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writella · 2 days ago

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Here He Is, Finally

Synopsis: “When’s it gonna be my turn? Open me up, tell me you like it, fuck me to death, love me until I love myself—” This is a story about the inner struggles of a desiring Daryl who just wants to be free of the perceptions the town, and his own mind, have put on him, so he can love you and love himself, in the ways he’s always wanted to.

—or: As Daryl becomes the talk of the town, insecurity sets in that hinders him from having sex with you— the thing you most want to do.

Details: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader, ambiguous age gap, mixing early seasons’ + later seasons’ personality of Daryl, the town being mean but also thinking Daryl’s hot because he is, discussions of gossiping, insecurity, and poor self-image, Daryl fights someone :), and smut— unprotected + he’s nervous but then it gets good, and it’s their/Daryl’s/your first time in whatever way you want it to be.

A/N: He’s literally me (I’m a girl).

— With love from writella. ♡

There it was. You finally said it. You told Daryl that you were ready to have sex.

When you told him, the two of you were having a quiet morning and he was about to leave. Pulling yourself up to his height, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and he took you by the waist, one hand reached up to hold your head, rubbing his thumb there. Good, you had thought, he’s reciprocating. That let you know he was okay, but still, underneath, you knew he was embarrassed about last night. You weren’t going to bring it up though, not then. You wanted to move forward, to show him that you didn’t care. “Daryl,” you started, words slow, uneasy in voice but sure in intention, as you whispered to him from above his shoulder, “I just wanted to tell you– that– I feel like I’m ready.” You paused for a moment. “And whatever you feel, I’m okay with it. Just talk to me.” As silence ensued, you kissed him on the cheek, “I love you,” you said, and pulled back.

Daryl kept his hands in yours as he looked at you. His features were sad and soft as much as they were unreadable. He kissed you on the forehead. “I love you too,” he said– it wasn’t the first time you two had exchanged those words– and then he left. Just like that.

You had no expectation for how he would react. You only knew he wouldn’t give you a flat-out no, so this, was understandable. But still, there was something hollow about it, even if his kiss and words were tender. It was another relationship moment that reminded you that these things never happen as they do in fairytale romances.

You see, you had always pictured him or whoever you were with at the time, bringing you close, kissing you, their fingers trailing down and under the hem of your skirt or pants, asking you if you were ready, if you were sure, if you wanted them to go slow, slower, but Daryl— as it turns—was incredibly pure, or at least pretending to be. Either too nervous or sensitive about these things, possibly inexperienced, or much more innocent with his intentions than you ever expected. It’s like you knew Daryl like the back of your hand, but when it came to anything about you as a couple, his history, who he’s dated before– you were clueless. You didn’t know what it could be.

One thing you did suspect, although Daryl has never told you, is that he thought of you as precious, something to be delicate with, like a flower. Sometimes you’d tell him he didn’t have to be so slow or soft when you were kissing– he was always a little sloppy anyway– and whenever there was a task to get done you’d be the first to tell anyone you could do it yourself, he knew this about you. And it’s not like he babies you or anything, that was never his way. Like when you two were fighting walkers, or doing work around the communities, or when he’s teaching you how to do something. You’ve even told him that he could be a bit demanding sometimes, grouchy, rough, and he agreed– that was true. He didn’t do it on purpose, the whole being hard on you thing. But alone? When he was on top of you or you over him? Waking up to you? Feeling your hand reach for his own in the dark? Even just eating dinner with you? The guy was a mess! A little boy, even. Heart racing. Eyes averted at times.

Whenever he nipped you, on the lips, or the neck, maybe he pushed you on the bed too hard, grabbed your waist too tight that it squeezed the bone, there were always silent apologizes of gentle circles, sweet kisses, and tongue licks to soothe the pain or possible bruises he left on you. And sometimes, when you’re home alone or you shower together, and he starts to kiss you or pull you in by the waist, he almost always sets out with the intention that this time he’d finally do it— the sex thing— he always wanted to. Only if you knew! Honestly, he’d feel like such a pervert if he let you know how many times, both before and after you got together, that he’s thought of being inside you, or you on your knees for him, or him kissing up your thighs and tasting you– he genuinely thinks he’d really like it, all of it, but especially that. But every time you’ve kissed and kissed enough, he’d get too overwhelmed about how to proceed or too nervous to even try. He tells you that you two should shower or go to bed or that he has to go for whatever reason. So all you’ve done is grind on each other, a lot, but that’s about it. You know he’s gotten hard and you’ve gotten wet, but you’re not sure if he’s ever noticed. He wants to put his hands in your pants, he wants to rip your blouse, he wants to squeeze your tits and slap your ass, but every time he thinks about actually doing it, he feels it's too forward or raunchy, or maybe it's not actually like him in the way he’s pictured in his head, or maybe you’d hate it, and specifically the way he did it. And he has thought about doing it slowly, romantically, but every time he thinks about doing that, he feels stupid, thinking he’ll come off as clumsy and pathetic to you. He doesn’t exactly get the concept of slow and sexy yet— reaching up, breathing you in, letting his fingers linger, or hands caress and massage. It’s not that he couldn’t do it though, or so he thinks, if he really tries; it's that doesn’t even think he’s sexy to begin with.

The only thing Daryl knows for sure are the things people call him when they think he’s not listening.

“Deep and… grunty,” one much too young girl said to her equally young friend who giggled, indicating her agreement even if she was too afraid to verbalize it. “I just like his voice,” the first girl said, “it’s sexy.” Or, “Wild,” as one of Aaron’s friends whispered to him, “Like he could throw me around, do it in front of the whole town, and wouldn’t care who saw.” To which Aaron scoffed and replied, “That’s literally my fucking friend.” But in truth, it’s not like he hadn’t thought about it himself, how Daryl looked underneath his vest and button-downs– it was just once though!– he promises!– as if he needed to explain it to himself. He even told his husband about it; they had agreed on Daryl’s attractiveness. Eric called it “rugged,” and they laughed about it over dinner. Now, Aaron would repeat that word as he overheard another group of ladies discussing ways to describe or trademark some of the male leaders in town. As Aaron passed by, “rugged,” was his suggested alternative to the word “beast” when one older lady described Daryl, in a way that would make anyone not a part of the conversation cringe, “Beast, sexy armed beast.” But Aaron was only met with silence and weird hums until a girl replied that “sexy armed rugged,” doesn’t make any sense. To that, all the ladies agreed. As Aaron walked away, wanting nothing more with this kind of conversation about his friends, he caught the new suggestion: “Daddy,” a girl had said with the widest smile on her face— she wasn’t a teenager, but it was obviously her first time being vocal about these things. She must have felt she said something so salacious. And as much as Aaron wanted to gag, there was also a part of him that reluctantly stopped himself from laughing and blushing with the rest of the woman. One of them rolled her eyes saying, “They can’t all be daddy,” to which another girl said, “But they kind of are!” and then he was too far away to hear anymore.

Daryl didn’t get any of it.

The only ones that truly bothered him though were when they added, “I know he’s a little ugly but,” or “I know he’s not my type but,” or “I know he looks a little dirty but,” “And he never does his hair but,” “And he’s not like the smartest but,” but, but, but—

It all made him feel bad about himself; more confused.

Even when it was just generally flattering, he found it hard to take any of it as a compliment. Sometimes he would, maybe the whispers of him being “kinda hot,” on the days when he’d return to his cut-off sleeved shirts, or maybe those moments when a lady would be talking to her friend saying how he’s “handsome,” or how she just knows “he’s packing–big–” and what’s better than a big dick, right? At least that is what Daryl thought– it's the bit of Merle in him– and he bets Negan wished he had one— Daryl was pretty sure Negan’s is a tiny little bitch just like his personality. No one gets to kill one of his best friends and gets more than a three-incher. Right, J.C.? If you’re even up there? Not that Daryl would mind if you were or weren’t, or cares if you did, he wouldn’t mind– Daryl didn’t think about religion that much anymore. And on that note, he realizes that he doesn’t do a lot of the same things he used to anymore. Like the way he would walk around without a care, even confidently sometimes, not thinking about how much he swung his arms or the way he talked or the way his hair fell that day. There was this one time, as he was walking over to Rick in the garden, telling him he couldn’t find whatever particular tools Rick wanted, he yelled, “They ain’t there no more, Rick!” that he heard some older guy say to his friend that Daryl sounded like a “human gremlin,” to which the friend tried to one-up him by saying, “more like a garbage disposal.” Then another day, some girl said he looks like a “wet rat sometimes,” especially when his hair is flat or, as said in the phrase, wet; and he never forgot it, either of them or anything anyone has ever said about him. It’s always been like this. Even when he was a kid.

Daryl tries to remember that people have just gotten too comfortable now that Alexandria is back on track, at least that’s basically what you had said. One day, Daryl came into your room, huffing and throwing himself on your desk chair, saying, “Some people don’t know how to keep their mouths shut.” To which you had asked him what was wrong, but he shook his head.

“Well,” you begin, responding to his un-answer, “some gossip is misogynized. It used to be a way for women to spread information, but–” you avoid the lecture— “I get what you mean.” You look at him, seeing the way his eyes still drift. “I can’t tell you everything, but Rosita and I had heard some people speculate on the whole her and Saddiq and Gabriel thing.” You shook your head, your eyes rolling a little, “It made her upset. I could tell. But it took her a while to talk about it. I think some people forget they can talk behind closed doors now. Our porches aren’t as private as they used to be, and people have gotten mean.” To that, you both nodded in agreement and then you climbed toward the edge of your bed to hold his hand. Something was obviously wrong. “Has anyone said anything about you?”

Again, he shakes his head and you have to leave it at that— all he wanted to do was ask questions about you now, and he wouldn’t let you change the subject.

But at home, alone, he stares at the mirror, trying to see what other people see: handsome, rugged, possibly wild… but all he saw were things he didn’t l understand, things that made him feel he wasn’t good enough. Did they really think he was attractive? And if so, why did they always have to bring up that there was something completely unattractive about him before the compliment? And why were those remarks always easier to believe? Or was it all just some weird fantasy they felt dirty about having? And was being rude behind his back was some sort of justification for it? Was it all of them above? Most importantly, did you think any of this?

Next Saturday, a week after you told him you were ready, the town gathered in the church during the evening for the monthly communal meal. This was something that started during the rehabilitation of Alexandria, another thing that the population was getting too big to contain, but Rick and Judith liked it. So, Michonne agreed to keep it— for now— despite reasoning that “this is what holidays are for, Rick.”

It was about an hour in, 6pm and sunset now past. Some people who had been busy working were still filing in, little by little, but for the most part, a majority of citizens were seated, eating, and chatting. There was a steady rain outside that made everything smell fresh, and if it wasn’t for all the chatter, you could even possibly hear the light drumming on the church walls. Everyone was quite pleased about it, spring seemed to be coming early.

Daryl had not come to see you last night and left early this morning so you didn’t know where he went or what he did, but what you did know for certain is that he never carried an umbrella. Therefore, when he finally arrived, 30 minutes later, his hair was soaked, and since he didn’t even wear his jacket, the long sleeves of his shirt were drenched with water droplets sticking to his vest and shoes that sloshed and left wet footprints on the wooden floor.

Obvious to say, he was noticed by all.

There is a fine line with Daryl between not giving a fuck about how he was perceived, and caring far too much while not willing to do anything about it, and of course, with all that has happened in the past few weeks, it was the ladder. He hated being the center of attention, but it was hard for him to not be noticeable, it never was, especially now. He felt ridiculous.

As he walks onto the stage– where all the tables of food are placed– you follow him.

“Hi,” you say next to him.

“Hi,” he replies, calling you by your nickname kindly enough, but not ever looking at you.

“You know, I think Rick was hoping you were coming back on time. I don’t know why he put all that stuff on his chair if it wasn’t for you or Michonne and Michonne sat with me.”

He simply nods, humming as acknowledgment.

“Daryl,” you move to the other side of the table as he gathers his food so he can look at you. Quietly you say, “We don’t have to talk about it now, but– I hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable the other day. Or if it was about the night before, you just have to tell me.” You poke his shoulder, “You’re acting weird and you know it.”

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” is all he grumbles.

“But I still want to say I’m sorry if I did.”

Daryl quickly finds some napkins to dry his hands and wrists with and comes over to place them on the sides of your head to kiss you there. “You ain’t got anything to be sorry about. Alright? I’m fine.” His hands drop and holds you by the neck for a moment, the movement makes some water droplets bleed onto your clothes, you feel it but you say nothing. The only thing Daryl notices from you is that your eyes look almost identical to his despite the differing color– his mood is affecting yours, but he doesn’t know what to say right now to make you feel better so he opts for something he always know is true, “You’re perfect. You know that right?” And I’m just fuckin’ weirdo, he wants to add, but he doesn’t.

You were smiling at him. He doesn’t get it. He looked like an idiot all soaking wet and you were smiling at him. There couldn’t be a better reaction, but still, it’s moments like this where he can’t believe you’re real. All you say is “Okay,” never taking a compliment, just like him, instead of finding a way to break-up with him like he always nearly suspects. “Come to me when you finish, alright? We can leave if you want?”

“Alright,” he responds and you leave him be.

As Daryl goes down the rows of tables picking out what he wants, he heads to the last one. The way the event was set up was that everyone who came early had the opportunity to take a seat at one of the four tables that were placed along each corner of the stage and the rest sat in the pews, but despite the higher vantage point the stage gave, that did not mean Daryl couldn’t hear what those around the stage were saying around him— as always. It must be a hunter’s ear or something.

“Be careful,” a woman says smirking, her eyes gesturing to Daryl. “Let’s hope he doesn’t wet us.” The friend in front of her snickers, looking back to see that Daryl is now by the table just above theirs. Whispering, the first woman continues, shaking her head, “I don’t know how Rick or the girl put up with it. She just acted like nothing was wrong. He’s mudding up the whole damn church!”

Daryl keeps his back turned. This ends up being his last straw. “How about you shut the fuck up,” he mutters.

“Excuse me?”

Louder, facing no one in particular he yells, “Why does everyone act like I don’t got ears?”

You look up, synchronized with everyone in the church and get up with Rick who is already slowly approaching him, but Michonne yanks you down.

“What is your problem?”

To that, he turns back to the woman, “How ‘bout you say what you said again and stop talking shit under your breath.”

“What?”

“I said,” he starts yelling again, “if you got somethin’ to say about me lady, say it to ma’ face. That’s what I said.”

“Hey, what’s goin’ on?” Rick asks almost warningly, but not before someone yells, “Who the fuck are you talking to, man?” from one of the aisles in the back. It was her husband, now standing from his seat. He and his wife make eye contact, and instantly he’s moving closer.

Daryl walks to the edge of the front stage, barking a quick “move” without any pause and Eugene and Siddiq violently bob their heads and grab their plates as Daryl steps on the table and jumps to the floor.

Rick tries to push him back but it’s no use, Daryl pushes him in return and he and the husband are charging at each other, speaking over each other: “What did you say to my wife?” “Told her to shut the fuck up. Thought I said it loud enough–” “Nah, man you were mumblin’ like always–” “Or d’you need me to say it louder with ma garbage disposal mouth?” Daryl pushes him, “Huh?” “I’m not fighting you, man.” But Daryl persists, getting in the man’s face, their noses almost touching. He whispers, “You know, maybe your wife’s got everyone’s name in her mouth because she don’t fuckin’ like you.” The man keeps shaking his head, but Daryl surprises him, he isn’t the only one the town gossips about. “She’s fucking Mark,” he tells him. That was true, and people knew it. “He’s your friend, ain’t he? Maybe that’s why she’s always–” But no, not him, her husband did not know, so he punches, straight in the eye. Daryl almost smiles as he takes the next swing.

The two are tussling, but not for long as Rick takes the chance to get Daryl from behind, taking him away with Gabriel’s help. “You done?” Rick asks as Gabriel holds him on the other side, His grip honestly does nothing though and Daryl shrugs him off. Poor Gabe looks like he’s about to have an aneurysm to see the church– practically his church– in such disarray.

With that, and with Daryl raging too much to contain, he shrugs Rick off and stomps out.

Michonne finally takes her hand off of your wrist and you make you way to leave too. As you walk, you look back to Rick who is already trying to follow, and wordlessly tell him that it’s your turn now, then, turn to awkwardly dodge the people still standing in the aisle and collect your things to go.

Daryl was not hard to find. It almost made you think he wanted to be found or knew you’d go after him— he’s being such a child today. Despite the town lights, you hold out your flashlight to find him sits on a tree stump on the edge of town next to one of his favorite trees. The leaves did a terrible job of covering him from anything but you knew he didn’t care. It was almost laughable honestly. Still, you take pity, he was yours and you were concerned. “I know you don’t care about getting wet,” you say with no malice or disappointment in your voice, “but all that water in your shoes can cause blisters. You didn’t even wear the ones that don’t have holes.”

He just shakes his head, as always, and water droplets fall from the tips of his hair.

“Remember when that happened to me and you drained them with needles even though Saddiq told us not to?”

He stares at you, stone-faced for a moment. “You’re the one who told me to do it.”

“Because they hurt really bad!”

“You were being a baby.”

“Really?” You ask ironically. “So if I’m the baby why are you acting like one right now? It’s been raining since morning, Daryl! Not even a jacket? You’re obviously upset about something but I’m not going to continue this with you in the rain, looking like a sad, wet puppy.”

He sneered at the comment, wet.

“Let’s just go home, okay? Let me take you.”

“We don’t live together.”

You frown. “Don’t be mean, Daryl,” you gently warn. “You know what I mean.”

You hold your hand out for him, water collecting in your palm as you wait. It was more of a gesture than actual help as you two were still a few feet away from each other. “Please? You could have already ran away on your bike or gone home and locked your door but you didn’t. I don’t know what’s going on but don’t act like I don’t know you.”

Reluctantly, he gets up, walking to you in almost slow motion. You wish you could call him the drama queen he is right now, but it was time to get out of this rain– you would hold it in for the time being.

As you enter the small place, you make no conversation. You simply get to work and he doesn’t stop you. You take off your rain jacket and boots, then you take off his vest and boots. You drag him to his room and hang up your sweater and take off your jewelry, then you empty his pant pockets. Finally, you hold his hand as he trails behind you and into the bathroom. You unbutton his shirt and unzip his pants and place them all in the hamper. He takes off his underwear and helps you take off your clothes too. When you’re done, you turn on the water and go in, he follows. You bathe and wash his hair in silence. You are tender and gentle, and he knows it, he appreciates it, but his mind is loud, and angry, and he feels so pathetic as you wash him like he’s 5 years old. You turn around to start washing yourself as he takes care of cleaning his legs and lower area. After he’s done, all he can do is look at you, your body, the soft humming you can’t help but do when you shower. It’s exactly as he said, you’re perfect. He wants to bang his head against the wall because of it.

When you two finish, you sit on his bed, wearing one of his white shirts and a pair of boxers, he wears the same except his bottoms are sweatpants. He hates these kinds of casual clothes actually, he’s only okay with wearing it sometimes, but he has nothing else at the moment. All he had to do was give his clothes to Carol to wash, but he didn’t. He hasn’t really done anything this week.

“Ms. Ellen is a bitch.” You finally say, giving him an ice pack for his eye. “And so is Mr. Gary and they both have the whiteness names in the world. And they’re both lazy as fuck and reek of nepotism because they only had one of the biggest houses and biggest egos in Alexandria because they were friends with Deanna and they’re still bitter that their house being destroyed in the fire— which I get— but it’s not okay that she uses her bitterness to talk shit about everyone. And it’s also not okay that you used your anger to fight someone who didn’t deserve it. That wasn’t like you.”

“Maybe it is. You didn’t always know me.”

“Well, sure, can act like a tough—”

“I don’t act like anything—”

“Fine, I’ll change it: Can you be a tough guy? Yeah. But do you pick fights and make big scenes in front of the kids like that? No, you don’t.” You stare at him, tapping him on the knee and forcing him to look at you. “You not talking is obviously not working, Daryl. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

He takes a moment. “I just—”

“What?”

“I don’t want to disappoint you,” he finally says lowly.

“I don’t think you could,” you answer, “I’m not even now, I’m just frustrated. Or confused really. Why do you think you would?”

He lowers his ice pack, “Cause I’m not fuckin’ Rick.”

You laugh a little. “Well, I did have my suspicions, but great, that’s good to know. I’m glad you’re not fucking Rick.”

He sucks his teeth. “Be serious.”

“Have you not realized I’ve been trying to be? For weeks now? It obviously doesn’t work.” Both of you look down as you continue, “And I finally tell you how I feel and what I want and you just leave and barely talk to me for the rest of the week. And before you even mention coming into my bed at night or saying goodnight or good morning to me and telling me what you’ll do that day, that’s not talking, it's just saying stuff. At some point I can’t always chalk it up to Oh, that’s just Daryl; at some point, a person starts thinking that they're the problem. That I’m the problem! That I’m not good enough.”

A tear falls down your cheek involuntarily, then another; you were clenching your jaw after you finished speaking but it was no use. After everything, all the bullshit and the girls and the punch to his eye that really fucking hurt even though it was his fault he got it, this is actually the worst thing that has happened to Daryl in the past months– making you cry.

“You’re more than good enough,” he says in his mumble, still not looking at you. “I’m just stupid.”

“You’re not stupid!” You yell frustratingly as you wipe tears away. “Stop talking down about yourself!”

Daryl looks off into the window. He wants to speak, he does. The words are all on the tip of his tongue but they cannot come out, they never do. As he watches you wipe away your last tears, he thinks everyone is right, that that guy is right, he has a garbage mouth, his voice is poison. He never makes any sense and he always says the wrong thing. Why speak anyway?

“I can’t help you or at least try to understand if you don’t say anything. I know it's hard— I don’t like doing it either. I was scared to tell you what I did last week. But it just starts with one thing.”

“It's too hard to.”

“But I’ve never judged you, right? ”

He shakes his head. You haven’t.

“The first thing that comes to your mind when I say, ‘what’s wrong?’, what is it? Just say it. I don’t care what it is. I’m not going to judge you, I’m not going to say you’re wrong, anything—”

“People think I’m ugly,” he interrupts, “I’ve heard them say it.”

Your eyes widen, in shock for him and in shock that people could still care about such stupid things right now. “Who said that to you?”

He shakes his head. “That’s why I mentioned Rick. No one says stuff like that about Rick.”

“Well, I don’t want you to be like Rick and you don’t have to be.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is?”

He gestures to himself, slapping his hands on his thighs, “Look at me.”

There’s something about the way his hand then reaches to cover his eyes in frustration, the way he slides it down to scratch his beard, accidentally magnifying to you the wisps of salt and pepper among the brown that gives you a clue to what he means. “I’m not some little girl, and I haven’t been for a long time.”

“I know, but you’re not my age either. And I don’t always think about you when it comes to it, it’s about me- I think about me.”

“So what about it? When it comes to the hair on your head and your eyes and the way you talk— that has nothing to do with how old you are, that’s just who you are. You didn’t choose to look as you do. And you and Rick have always looked the same age if I have to mention him, and his beard is whiter than yours at this point. Neither of you look old, or bad.” Your words do nothing so far. “You also have a better build than plenty of people in town. You’re stronger too.”

“But when they talk about Rick, all they say is that he talks too much and that he’s bossy and hardass and at least that’s true.”

You couldn’t help but smile, almost laughing a bit at that. It kind of was true.

“I’ve never heard anyone say things about him the way they say about me. Never anything about how he looks. But when they talk about me— they think I’m a fuckin’ animal.” There is silence after this. The word wild lingers in his mind and animal in yours. Again you want to ask, who could say that and have they not realized all Daryl has done for this place? Then, the more you listen, the more you realize that hidden beneath those with endless respect are some with hearts of cruelty and minds stuck in the regular old world ways that don’t exist anymore. “And sometimes, when I think about why you like me, I think that maybe it’s despite other things.”

“Despite?”

“Despite.” He practically spits.

“We all have bad qualities though. We’re not perfect.”

“I mean that I’m not some regular good looking guy.”

“Why would I want regular?” Your smile fades as his sad eyes persist. “Daryl, I can’t change your mind or make you feel the way I do about you, but why can’t you trust that I like you, and that I want to be around you? And that I’m,” you blush, “very attracted to you and I’ve felt like an embarrassing teenage girl the past few months waiting and trying to get you to have sex with me!” Quietly you say, “Have you not realized how much I really want you? How much I care? Everyday I feel lucky.”

He can’t take it. “Guess it’s like you said— can’t believe it if I don’t see it myself.”

His mouth is screwed shut, his throat tight, but just like you, it’s no use, a tear rolls down his cheek. Immediately you hug him. He holds you tightly in return and even though it makes your ribs hurt a little, you let him. All of this makes you see how much you two are alike than you’ve ever realized.

“You know,” you say into his hair, “there was this one time, I was up super early and couldn’t go back to sleep so I went out for a walk. I passed by Olivia’s house and she waved me over from her window and asked me if I could help her restock the pantry before Rick came later in the day to check it because she had this huge migraine. Well, that turned into me doing the whole thing for her. She said she was going inside for a break and some water and the next thing I know she’s asleep on her couch! And you know how her niece lives with her? I guess she runs in the morning and while I was finishing up, her and her friend lean up against one of the garage doors and I hear them talking. I was just about to open the door to leave but then she says, ‘She’s sweet but kind of a kiss-ass, right? Like a try-hard?’ And then her friend goes, ‘Yeah, she really wants to be one of them,’ ‘But all she is, is just Daryl’s little girlfriend.’” Daryl lets go to face you, his eyes incredulous just as yours were when he said someone called him ugly. “And then they started saying how I insert myself into places or something, so thought if I came out right then and they see me having done Olivia’s job for her… I didn't want them to get an up-close look of them being right. So I waited until they went in the house and then I left and for the whole rest of the week I was upset because I thought I was becoming friends with those girls but really I wasn’t, and I questioned if Rick and Michonne or Rosita or Glenn and Maggie even thought of me as a friend because they actually like me or if I’m even good enough to be one or if it’s only because I’m associated to you that they care to talk to me. I felt pathetic too.” You pause. “So, I’m really sorry, Daryl. You don’t deserve to feel like you’re being picked on in the town you live in— in the place you helped create.”

“It ain’t your fault.”

“That doesn’t make a difference. I should have said something.”

“You didn’t have to. I wanted that to happen.”

“But I wish I knew. Cause I would have if I knew. I feel like I let Michonne stop me because I didn’t understand. And all I’m saying is whether I've had it as bad as you or not, I do get it. And I’m angry for you. And you don’t have to be embarrassed to tell me things like this. It was dumb of me to keep my feelings in, just like you do with everything.”

Daryl swipes his hair to the side, parts of it are dry and waving while other areas are still wet, making him think about the rat joke. “No one likes you because of me,” he says. “You’re likable because you’re you and you care. And fuck those dumb-ass girls. They’re idiots for saying that.” He rubs your thigh. “I didn’t say anything the other day because when we were in the shower the night before I,” God, he feels stupid, “I got hard and you saw it and I realized it was the first time you saw it like that before and, I don’t know, I got scared.”

“Did you think that I’d think you’re ugly?”

“I don’t know.”

“Daryl,” you tisk, “after the amount of times we’ve showered together already?”

He gets defensive, “I don’t know! Felt different.”

“People usually get excited to know their partner is excited because of them.”

“I just feel like you’re gonna be disappointed.”

“Why do you always think that? I don’t have any expectations. I just want you to show me you love me.” You begin to look nervous, “I want to feel wanted too.”

“But I do… I do want you.”

“Then show me.”

“I don’t know how.”

You try to think, “Daryl— what is it that you picture when- when you want to do it?”

“I picture you,” he says simply.

“You do?” Your face is immediately warm.

He laughs, “Of course I do.”

“Well what do I do? Or what do you do to me?”

“Depends.”

“Pick one,” you say, almost desperately.

“Sometimes it just starts with what we always do. Kissin’. Maybe you’re on top of me.”

You waste no time; you get on top of him.

“And I press you down.” Daryl’s hands are now heavy on your hips, your hands are on his chest, you rock into him slowly.

“And sometimes I think about you bouncing on me or-” he pauses, the way you rock and the way he pushes up to you hitting a perfect spot of friction that makes the both of you gasp.

“Say it,” you tell him.

“I’m fucking you from behind. Or you're on the bottom and I’m going hard or being all gentle and shit like you but I don’t know how.”

“You know we can do all that, right?”

Daryl is red. Both you and him are surprised at yourself, but his bashfulness almost brings it out of you naturally. And honestly, your jacked and grumpy dilf boyfriend has left you repressed for far too long— you’re horny.

Suddenly, you move yourself onto one of his thighs and start palming his bulge as you rock. “Do I do this in your dreams?”

He almost groans, “Now you do.”

You move yourself from his thigh and lay down to start kissing him. He reciprocates, grabbing your face and pulling you close. Daryl starts nipping at your neck and you try your hardest not to yelp so he won’t stop. As you two continue, your slick starts to wet his boxers and you press your legs together as he gets harder under his sweatpants.

“Have you ever noticed how wet I get when we kiss?”

“Only at night,” it’s hard for his words to come out as you continue palming him, “when you don’t have clothes on.”

“And you never did anything about it?” You whine. “Do you know how bad I need you? How much I think about you?”

“I think about you more.”

“You do?

“Yes.” Daryl swallows, whimpering a little. You now stroke him, his dick riding up against his thigh, and it feels too good. “What- What do I do in your dreams?”

“You lay me on the bed and put your dick in me and fuck me and it feels amazing,” you say between hot breaths. “And you’re not scared to do it.”

“I wanna do it.”

“So, please, Daryl, do it. I want it so bad.”

Daryl uses your words as courage. He takes you off of him and goes over you.

You both take off your shirts and he strips you from his boxers and him from his sweatpants.

Finally, without regret or without him turning away you see his cock stand. It’s proud, meaty, and you can’t lie, a little scary, but you’ll never tell him, even if your widening eyes give you away. It’ll fit, you assure yourself. You won’t be afraid.

“You okay?” He asks, timidity setting in again.

But you nod assuredly. “Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

You pout, he’s stalling. “When you look at me, what do you see?”

“Beautiful.”

“And you're handsome. No pretenses. No exceptions.” You come up on your knees to face him, kissing his lips softly. “It’s like we said, we’ve dreamed about this.”

You lay down again, and Daryl places his hands on your inner thighs to spread them, making space for himself. You watch as takes hold of himself, mouth agape and pumping himself a few times as he stares at your body before slowly entering you. Your pussy is drooling at the sight.

Your eyes instantly close and scrunch. Although it worries Daryl, he’s glad you’ve shut them so he can continue looking up and down— up at your face to see if you’re in pain and down as he watches his cock enter you for the first time. You were incredibly tight to him, tighter than he ever imagined, he wasn’t used to this feeling and he liked it, a lot. It made his stomach clench and all his muscles flex as his breathing gets heavier, trying to stop the possibility of him moaning at the sight of it all.

“Are you okay?”

It was big and there was something about it that felt good but it hurt, the stretch indescribable, but you nod and tell him, “I like it,” because that was true, and everything else felt like too much to explain right now, your thoughts almost dissipating.

“You sure?”

You just nod again, whining.

“Alright,” he says, putting his hands on the bed to start.

Once more your eyes screw shut. He almost takes himself out before he pushes back into you again. He doesn’t know if he went slow enough but he tried. Your eyes wrinkling because of how hard you closed them doesn’t help though. He wants to tell you to relax but he’s not even relaxed himself to even make it sound believable.

He tries again, not going so far out this time and slowly goes back in to the hilt again, so slowly in fact he thinks that must have been awkward for you. He stops, tries one more time, then stops again. Your sounds seem like you’re hurt. He knows you’ll say it’s just pain and adjustment to his size but he instantly perceives it as disgust. He knows it’s not, but he can’t help it, he can’t. He must be ‘too much’; ‘too big,’ that’s what it is. Those are things he has heard in porn tapes Merle used to give him or things he noticed in porno mags he maybe used to read that he had found in a store near Hershel’s farm all those years ago, and supposedly it was a good thing for it to be too much, but now, look at you: you were in pain. And it was taking everything in him not to ram into you. He felt pathetic, again. Stupid, again. Like he didn’t know what he was doing. Maybe he should just withdraw right now, clean you up, try to give you a sympathetic look through his hair that said he was sorry for defiling you and not even make you feel an ounce of pleasure in the process. Everyone was right, he is a joke.

“Daryl,” you say, looking up at him, “you don’t have to keep stopping for me. I just need to relax and you just need to be slow. I think I can take it.”

“I know,” he responds, kissing your forehead.

“Close your eyes,” you tell him. “Do what feels right to you. You have to trust me to tell you if it hurts or not.”

He almost laughs at that. You think he’s so strong; that he has all the power. It’s so strange to him.

Daryl puts his head in the crux of your neck, closes his eyes, and tries again. He holds your waist, thumb on your ribs and the other fingers on your back as he pushes his hips into you.

You hug his chest and feel all of it. “Make yourself feel good Daryl, it’s gonna feel so good to me if you do that, I promise.” After his 4th small pump you let out a whiny moan of relief. “Oh- okay- keep going.”

Daryl moves his elbows to the bed by your head and starts pushing his hips against you, finding a rough yet steady rhythm. He loves the slapping sound your bodies are making and can’t help but speed up. He goes deeper and you start moaning. He already feels he’s losing himself. He tries to kiss you to slow down, but realizes he can’t plow into you the same way he just found out he likes. He goes back to it and he starts grunting and groaning— there is a part of him that is embarrassed by it but it just feels so good. “Are you gonna come?” He asks between sharp thrusts.

“Don’t focus on that,” you tell him. “Stay like this. Please.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice, he really can’t think of anything anymore than continuing to pump himself in you so he does. You try your best to rock up into him, but he has full control, his hands on your hips still as tight as ever as he pushes into you, making you and the bed bounce at his mercy.

You’re more than fine with it all. Even better, you couldn’t believe this meant that Daryl was about to come inside you. Something in you knew it was about to happen. It was the way he placed his elbows by your head and started cursing and ramming into you harder and even whimpered in your ear and gave you these little puppy kisses there before getting back to it. You were surprised by how noisy he was but you didn’t dare say a word other than panting and whining back into him so he’d continue, even in moments when it felt too much and too hard. He was forgetting all his doubts and that was the goal right now. You lock your legs around his hips and tell him, “You feel amazing inside me. My handsome man,” and that does it, “Oh, fuck,” he says as he releases every last drop of himself inside you.

Now, as he slows down, he looks at you, thumb on your bottom lip and chin as he tries his best to keep rolling his hips on you as he comes down from his high, but you ask, “Will you kiss me down there, Daryl? I’ve always wanted that.”

“You don’t want me to make you come?”

“I think it’ll happen if you do it like that. I just want to know what it feels like.”

He stops for a moment deciding if this means he’s failed or not, but he simply says, “Okay,” all kindly and nodding like it was your idea even though it was because this means another one of his dreams were coming true.

Instantly, he’s licking you, feeling more assured of what he could do— this was one of his most vivid fantasies so even though he doesn’t know for sure, he thinks he’s got.

“Oh, oh my god,” his tongue is bringing up wetness to your clit and sucking on it, “that’s good.” He starts licking your clit, going fast, “Daryl, that’s so good.”

He looks up at you, dazed already, “Yeah?”

“Oh, yes.” You fix his hair and he loves the feeling. Truly, he was going a little too fast actually, going up and down and this way and that way too much, but the sounds his mouth and your pussy were making together were too glorious. You let him go, you let him be proud, and either way, you’re whining and moaning because of it. He’s perfectly imperfect and he doesn’t even know it. But you’re too in love with the feeling of him to explain what that means right now so all you say is what he told you about yourself in the church, “I think you’re just perfect.”

To that, he stops again and he looks up at you, smiling. It’s one of those rare ones he seldom does, teeth and all, and your slick coating his lips all the while. His eyes are shining, and he gives you the smallest, sweetest, most innocent kiss to the most obscene place on your body— your clit.

At this point all your sounds have been short, quiet, filled with whines but to this, you moan at the sight, full and loud. It’s involuntary. It’s pornographic. It’s the hottest thing he’s ever heard in his life. His cock stirs, springing up again as he goes back to giving you your first and forever the most slobberiest head of your life.

After a while he beckons you from below, “Hey, angel,” he calls.

“Mm,” you respond lightly. You’re nearly blissed out. He’s going to make you come.

“I think those girls were right.”

Your eyes become so cute yet so sad— you just want him on you again. “What do you mean?”

“You are sweet. Sweetest thing I’ve ever had in my life.”

“Oh,” you whisper, moaning again as he goes back to licking your clit. “Oh. Fuck.”

He starts licking and kissing your puffy lips, making wet sounds with his tongue, slurping little bits of you where he can. He loves how slick and noisy your pretty pussy is. Your clit throbs and he hums into it all dark and grumbled and husky going, “Mmmmmm.”

You tell him, “God, it’s so good, Daryl.” To which he responds, referring to a different it, “And it’s mine.”

Oh, so he’s cocky now? Well, that’s new for him. You lay back at the thought, at the feeling, reveling in delight.

Here he is, finally.

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minaharkerdailymirror · 12 hours ago

Note

It was the truth the things she felt. Mina would not have put up with him otherwise if she didn't love him as much as she did. He had his faults, just like she did. But she also saw the growth in him. The limitless potential, the light in him. she loved him so much.

She saw him change, saw him try to be better, she saw him improving. It wasn't an easy road. Especially when one's brain was frozen like that but he was doing it. And she tried to better herself too. She accepted the vampires as well as someone like her could, accepted whatever odd polycule they were. she made room in her heart for him in a way that she hadn't for anyone else.

"We did the right thing hunting what we did," Mina told him quietly, though sometimes she wasn't sure. Some were aware of what they did, some were not and Mina had to put them down. But the early days...oh the early days were harder. Mina was so glad Daniel wasn't around for them.

"How can I ask you to help shoulder the things I did back before you were even thought of?" she said quietly, "I can't ask you to do that. I'm supposed to shoulder your pain, not the other way around. I just need you near me right now."

It was different!!

But then he told her all the other things, like they were meant to find the other. Like they were soulmates and she deserved to be happy and to heal. And when he held her close, called her the sun to him; the dam broke. She started sobbing, the weight of everything maybe for decades weighed in on her and she clung to him desperately and cried and cried.

And that's what she needed. that's why she needed him there. Because she knew this was coming and didn't want to face that alone.

“So, you want to interview vampires, so you?”

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keu-i · 23 hours ago

Text

ENHYPEN HYUNG LINE + MAKE-UP SEX !

pair: hyung line x f!reader warnings: pwp, smut, angst/arguing, hurt/comfort, bratty reader, they ’re a little mean sorryyy, punishments, dom/sub dynamics, mentions of crying, daddy kink, praising/degrading, thigh riding, fingering, size kink, piv, unprotected sex, oral (m. rec), breeding kink, cum swallowing words: 3.4k **NOT PROOFREAD**

I’M NEW HEREEE!! LMK WHAT YOU THINK OF THIS AND IF I SHOULD WRITE MORE STUFF LIKE THIS, THANKS <3

HEESEUNG —

“can we go to ‘phora after you finish?”

“no, sit down.” heeseung referred to you tugging on his shirt from behind. “why’re you moving around so much today?”

you provided a hum, quickly ending the conversation you just started. you’ve been sitting here all day, on this leathery brown sofa. you’d been needing to go to the beauty store to buy a new concealer since last week, and it’s been annoying you that you can’t go today as it seemed your boyfriend was practically almost done with this track he’s working on.

you sat on the far end of the couch, farthest from him. there’d been nobody in the studio as of now, he took a short break earlier but was barely spending any time with you. that in itself made you sorta upset, you craved his attention more than anything.

you were feeling like a burden to him by even being here, and he made it no better by not giving in to your demands. you knew he was doing something, but you hated when work inclined with your time with him— and you know it sounds extremely selfish, but it’s okay to be a little selfish sometimes…

“well can you hurry up??” “i kinda wanna go home.” you spoke up, the agitation overwhelming your tone.

“you can wait, but if you’re gonna have a fit, step out.” heeseung, was known for not putting up with any of your shit, no matter how much of a sweetheart he was. when it comes to his work he doesn’t really play around.

“i wasn’t gonna!” you poked your lip out, pouting.

“i can hear it in your voice, babe. don’t start, i'm busy; we’ll leave in a bit..” he put an end to the commotion you were about to start, he didn’t have the time do deal with your mellow drama. that was being only if he doesn’t have to fix it himself. and he knew just how to do that. all he has to do, is wait.

“ugh, okay. but hurry..”

. . .

you were still upset with heeseung about not going, and you had sparely spoken a word to him since the incident from earlier. but the guilt of it all was only eating him away inside, seeing your sulking state made him feel even worse and he couldn’t hold himself back anymore.

“babe.. c’mere,” heeseung’s voice filled the quiet room, his tone much softer, a striking contrast from the way he acted hours ago.

you didn’t wanna give in so easily with him, not after he told you no when all you wanted was some new concealer.. you wanted to put up a little bit of a fight; but the minute he flashed that apologetic, doe- eyed look at you it was enough make you want to melt in a puddle. curse him for being so damn cute..

“m’sorry baby.. let me make it up to you,” he attempts to atone for his actions, caging his arms around your waist to pull you closer to him, “we can go tomorrow if you want.. i’ll buy whatever you want pretty.” your body trembles the minute his lips find the soft spot of your neck, playing with the hem of your short skirt.

“mmh.. hee,” a tiny moan slips from your lips when his hands get closer to your core, a surge of heat rushing through. “oh gosh,”

his fingers swirl around your entrance, collecting your wetness, bringing it up to decorate your clit before dipping them back into your entrance. he looks up at you, a chuckle on his face, so cocky and arrogant. he swipes his middle harshly on your clit, you were feeling ecstatic, already on the verge of coming as he kept up his ministrations. you begin to gush on his fingers as you writhe your hips.

“fuck..” he groans. “you only get this wet for me, right baby?”

your eyes slightly rolled to the back of your head as you felt the slight pressure on your clit, your chest heaving, trying your hardest in collecting yourself. his palm slaps your pussy when you don’t answer him, and you whimper out a “y-yes..” quickly. he’s been doing this for what felt like hours and you swore you were going to pass out just from this alone.

he chuckles again, sounding like a curt scoff. pulling his lip between his teeth, you notice the look in his eyes, and you gulp. he pulls your thighs further apart, stretching.

you squeak at the stretch, your thighs are burning.

“stay still,” heeseung grunts out. “i don’t wanna make you cry right now, baby you know i hate that.”

heeseung takes both fingers into your pussy, scissoring them in and out of you. you watch as glob of his spit falls onto your clit as he smiles at the squelching sound of everything. your eyes rolled all the way back to your skull when you start to hear how messy it all is.

“baby.. you’re squirting,”

JAY —

“why do you keep pushing me away?” “can you not?” jay’s voice surpassed the boundary between calm and annoyed. he didn’t seem to understand you at all today. and it’s more of a problem that you refused to talk with him about any of it. all you continue to say is ‘nothing.’

“i’m not.. it’s just, really hot in here..” you exhaled, shifting your gaze to avoid direct eye contact with him.

“could’ve just said something, i’ll go turn the ac on.”

“no !” you pulled his arm almost dragging him back onto the couch. “i don’t want to turn it on.”

“what? aren’t you hot?” he blinked in confusion.

you nod.

“then why not..?”

“cause i don’ wanna!” you roll your eyes in discontent, by this point you were being unreasonably stubborn for no reason and jay was quite literally over your attitude you’ve been giving him all day.

“babe, i’ll either touch and hold you while it’s cold so you’re comfortable, or make you sweat like a bitch and not care.” “but you’re infront of me, i’m gonna touch you. i don’t care. so choose.” he eyed you, face calmed but holding so much emotion. confusion, anger, love. but it’s all just mixing up like a bowl of açaí and he can’t pick out which one he’s feeling right now.

“neither!” you retaliate, but to your demise, you got his cuddly wrath anyway.

“jay! get— hey!” you pushed and nudged but no hope. he wasn’t gonna let you go, felt like you needed comfort, but he couldn’t depict if it was just his instincts or not.

“ow!” you felt the weight of his body rise leaving you feeling like a light weight blob of mass. “y/n, did you just.. hit me?” his face, was all misshapen. a furrowed and betrayed look caping his features in like they were a precious jewel sworn to never see light of day.

“baby— i.. i didn’t mean it!” “it just happened..” you broke a huge no-no in your book. sworn to never put your hands on eachother in a vile way, that is unless consented. meaning, the two of you should never hit one another. look at you now, your stubborn little ass is in a huge mess.

“mhm, yeah” you watched as he left the couch the both of you once sat on together. now you’re sad, cold and alone, in the once hot area.

“jay, i’m serious, ’m sorry!”

“corner.”

“huh?..”

his hand cupped the back of your head, leading you to the nearest corner in the room, only for him to finish you off; shoving your face into the corner. “sit. and don’t move a damn inch. got it? mrs. y/n?”

“yes..” you sulked, look what you did, being a spoiled fucking brat. should’ve got over your little drama party when you had the chance. but look at you now.

“yes what?”

“yes daddy..?” your voice wobbled. the mere thought or feel of being in trouble is terrible. yet you saw through your punishment and done your vile actions.

“oh? good girl, finally using that mouth for what it’s worth. finally listening. over that pity party? huh?” he joked, a cackle bubbling from his throat as he walked away from your smaller being.

half an hour had passed and he’d left you there to reflect on your actions, but he knew he couldn’t keep you there alone for too long. instead, he’d much rather release each other’s frustrations by fucking it out— that always works in the end to resolve your differences, doesn’t it ..?

. . .

“jay, p-please slow down!” you stuttered, begging for mercy. eyes fluttering as you ride on top of his big cock. being on top with jay felt like nothing of the sort.

he still had all the control, his thickness sliding in and out, your juices leaking everywhere with each and every thrust; your entrance giving that tickling feeling that you knew all too well.

sometimes your boyfriend could be super soft and gentle with you, while other times he’d fuck you rough and mercilessly, leaving you completely dumb as you’re full of nothing but his cock. jay likes putting you on top just to fuck you like you were laying down.

he slows down just a liiittle bit... but not without leaving a light slap on your cheek. noticing the way you’re bringing your bottom lip into your mouth, tears streaming down your face. he coos at you, rubbing your thigh.

“sorry baby,” he pouts, gently rubbing your clit. “come closer.” you watch in confusion as he pants but you obey.

he pinches your cheeks with his right hand, squishing your face. you could smell your pussy wafting from his fingers. “you did soo well taking my cock,” jake hums at you proudly, “yeah? so tight.”

“do i get a reward for being good, daddy?” you mutter.

your boyfriend hums again, before tapping your cheek. you try opening your mouth knowing exactly what he wants. gazing into his eyes, you greedily stick your tongue out. he suddenly slams his cock back into you, making you gasp from the sudden fill.

“uh uh,” he says sternly. “keep your mouth open.”

you watch as he let’s a string of his spit fall right on your tongue.

this was going to be a long afternoon.

JAKE —

“does it really take that long to unlock a door?” your hands met your hips, knee at a bent degree, tips of your shoe tapping the ground. “i’m getting tired of standing here, c’mon!”

“does it take a lot for you to shut your pretty fuckin’ mouth?” “shit baby, what’s your problem today, you've been acting bratty the past few hours.” his key forcefully twisted into place, giving jake a satisfying click.

“nothing..” you quickly mutter.

“really? nothing?” “so, you’re being disrespectful for no reason?, don’t you know where that gets you?” his figure caged you between the passenger side door, eyes locked on yours. you knew you had no reason to be upset, and even knowing that, you were terrible angry.

“i’m speaking to you.”

“yes jake.. i know.”

“then get in the car and act fucking right.” he pulled you towards him, reaching out to open the door for you. “hear me?”

“good.” he closed after hearing a complying hum from you before reaching over your lap, buckling your seatbelt.

you honestly couldn’t stay mad at him, look at how he treats you even after he scolds you. a man everybody wants, but only you have. and you felt ungrateful, like you didn’t deserve him.

the real reason you were so upset in the first place was only because jake had wanted you to come to these dinner reservations he made with his friends and although you really did enjoy his friend’s company sometimes, you didn’t want to go anywhere.

all you wanted was to stay in and be with your boyfriend all day but instead you took your anger and frustration out on him— which only made you harbor more guilt inside.

the car ride went completely silent for the first ten minutes, then an idea sprang into your mind. why not show how sorry you were for your attitude by giving him some road head ? you’ve never tried it before, but there’s a first time for everything you suppose. plus, you genuinely felt remorseful, and there wasn’t a more perfect way of apologizing than doing that in your opinion.

. . .

“hpmh,—” your lips kiss his pinkish-red tip, when you unzipped his pants to expose his hard on, a small bead of pre-cum leaked out. dipping your tongue out to lick it up, his cock flinching at any slight stimulation. “babe— yes! fuck..”

opening your mouth wider to take his full length, your eyes began watering when the end of his shaft hits the back of your throat. “look at you, already taking it all.. look so fucking hot like that with your mouth full of my cock.” his hand gripping hard onto the steering wheel, the other grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling hard as he forces more of himself down your throat.

you gag and choke a bit from his hips rutting into you, but that doesn’t stop you from sucking his cock like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do on earth. giving all your efforts to please him, looking up with bright big eyes while you deepthroat. your pussy was uncomfortably wet, you could feel your slick leaking on your thighs. moaning as you continue bobbing your head up and down, feeling him throbbing in your warm mouth from the sensations.

“yeah baby… just like that keep going.. fuck…” jake wanted to swing his head back from the pleasure so badly, but he had to focus on the road.. pulling your hair tighter as he feels himself getting close.

you could sense he was close too by his erratic movements, and you know exactly how to get him to cum. collecting more saliva as much as you could to make it even sloppier, some of it almost dripping from the corners of your mouth as you keep going. he felt like the end was nearing for him, he grunts loudly, bucking his hips up in a frenzy.

“shit- ’m gonna come… you better swallow of all of it like a good fucking girl.” you nod, feeling him pulsate even more in your mouth, humming around the base of his length as you send him to a higher state of pleasure. the back of your throat gets hit with shots of hot cum, milking every last bit of him until you know for sure he’s done. “you really have no idea what you do to me y/n, do you?” he pants while trying to catch his breath, wanting to look down at the beautiful mess he’s created.

“i swallowed it all daddy, look.” you open your mouth wide, sticking your tongue to show him it was all empty.

“that’s my good girl,” jake praises you, quickly glancing down to see you looking all lazy and defeated. he wanted to say to hell with it and skip the plans, turn back around just so he could fuck you. there’s no way he’d able to last more than an hour without having his cock buried inside of you..

SUNGHOON —

an hour, a whole god damn hour, you were being completely ignored, concealing all your tiny sobs. you were sorry for your actions, hell, even sorry for yourself, but also sorry for your boyfriend, the man who had to put up with all of your brattiness.

today you just decided to chose violence and pick a fight with your boyfriend for absolutely no reason other than you just felt like it. but now you were paying the consequences of those actions by his silent treatment he gave you. when he’d finally noticed you’ve been crying, he couldn’t hold anymore of this little grudge against you, he couldn’t see you like that no matter what.

your thought process was cut off once you felt a warm compress on your back. making you bawl your eyes out even more.

“babe, what are you crying for?”

“i don’t know.. i’m—”

“you’re sorry?” his hands caressed your sides, his mouth kissing along your shoulder. “i know baby. it’s okay.”

“did i leave you alone for too long?” he pulled you further into his build by your waist, cupping you in his hold. his tough demeanor shrinking to bits once he saw your puffy, red eyes.

“no..” you quickly turned to wrap your arms around his neck, snuggling yourself into his embrace. you can’t believe how sunghoon deprived you were for just an hour. the hold this man had on you..

“you wanna tell me what happened today?” “or no?” he added, hearing nothing in reply.

“maybe later..?” “i miss you.”

“i miss you too babe, i just don’t like when you act that that. i feel neglected, like you can’t open up to me.”

“i know.. i’m sorry, i just didn’t feel good today..” you retracted your nuzzle from the crook of his neck.

“just one of those days?” “you know i won’t ever know what’s wrong unless you tell me, right?”

you hummed. “yes, but.. i don’t know i was just being selfish and i took it all out on you..”

“you’re a really good girl, baby, i love you okay? you don’t have to ever close yourself off with me. ‘kay?”

“mkay..” you reached for a kiss in which he gratefully returned.

“baby.. well, maybe.., did you check yourself?” he cautiously approached the upcoming topic. he could feel parts of his sweats sticking to his skin like rice cake on a hot day. and he had a feeling that your attitude wasn’t just an attitude.

“what do you mean..?” your brows furrowed at the random question displayed before you.

“you know, like.. are you on?”

“my period?” he hummed in response to answer.

“noo..? i checked earlier.. plus i didn’t feel any paining.. or any symptoms like usual..”

he nods at your reassurance, knowing how cranky you can get when it’s close to that time of the month. that’s when everything shifted, you were suddenly pulled onto his lap and kissing him roughly on the couch, his hands exploring each and every inch of your body. you knew exactly how this was gonna end— you being completely ruined by the end of this night.

. . .

“babe, you’re fucking squeezin’ me.” sunghoon groaned, gripping the sides of your hips in a tight manner. “pussy still begging for more, huh?”

“please hoonie..” you whined at the friction of his cock colliding with yours perfectly, feeling every ridge and vein. like his cock was made just for you. “want it so bad..”

he wasted no time in burying himself deeper inside you, in all honesty he wanted you no more than you wanted him. he needed you the most right now. the fact that he’d spent so long ignoring you today because of his stubborn, selfish actions left him feeling more than guilty, and he was going to show you just how much he wants you.

sunghoon’s hand pressed on your stomach with every stroke he landed in you. every curve his length went through to touch your G. “fuck..” he landed a sharp slap onto your tits.

you couldn’t help but grind your hips back up against him. a tense burning sensation sprawling throughout your whole body. it make you urge for more, like nothing was enough, even though you were in pure bliss. you were nothing but a mewling, shrieking mess.

“hoon! ugh, please ruin me..hmm please..” your arms reached up, grasping around his neck.

“you’re driving me fucking crazy, y’know?” he airly chuckled throwing he head back. the feel of your slick creating sticky vines across his skin whenever he’d pull out. the sound of it, the look of it. all of it turning him on even more.

your back arched at the thought of maxing out around his thick shaft. the praise you’ll get since you’ve done so well for him.

“i love you..” you mumbled bittersweet nothings one after another.

“shit, loosen the fuck up.” his hands entangled your sweaty hair gripping it in a careful but aggressive manner. “fuck, i’m gonna come.” he began to thrust into your messy cunt relentlessly, pounding you into oblivion.

“hoon— mm’nside please..!” you slurred, drool heaping out the corner of your mouth.

“inside? huh? you want my babies, princess?” “you do, don’t you? want me to fill your fucking pussy with my seed.” sunghoon chuckled at your pleading. he was tired as hell, but soo turned on by you, by the thought of you bearing his children.

“’es yes, yes hoon!”

“whatever you want, baby.” his length pumped into you filling you up, not an empty fucking crevice in your soppy cunt.

“thank you.. daddy.. ”

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cybrasigilism · 3 days ago

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Three’s Company (Thanos/Choi Su-bong + Nam-gyu X Reader Drabble)

characters: thanos/choi su-bong (player 230), nam-gyu (player 124)

A/N: wanted to do a thanos/nam-gyu threesome thing that isnt just doublepen bc i’m lowkey tired. gotta love these maniacs though. THIS IS A DRABBLE WRITTEN IN POINT FORM/HEADCANON FORMAT FYI

MDNI! 18+ content below the cut, readers discretion is advised

➣ if these two are both fucking you, it usually involves you sucking thanos’s dick while nam-gyu plays with your pussy. the positioning is interchangeable, however if it’s nam-gyu’s dick you’ve got between your lips, trust he will have a firm hold on your head as he fucks your face.

➣ these two are big on voyeurism, typically it’s thanos fucking you while nam-gyu watches. however, thanos will happily sit back and watch as you ride his best friend

➣ while you give thanos head, nam-gyu will not be letting you cum unless you beg for it. he’s gonna be a complete asshole about it too, and you can bet that thanos will play along

“so rude, talking with your mouth full.. you need to teach your bitch some manners before she can cum on my fingers”

“ y’ gotta speak up señorita, we can’t understand you like this-“

➣ during foreplay, you can expect to be sandwiched between them. these two will also be equally fiending for your attention, picture something like nam-gyu kissing your neck as he gropes your tits through your shirt, all while you make out with thanos as he grabs your ass

➣ sometimes when thanos has you bent over, nam-gyu will taunt you from the front. kissing you, biting your bottom lip, leaving hickeys where he can on your neck, you name it he’s doing whatever he can to make sure you don’t put all of your attention on thanos

➣ they both love when you make out with one of them while you ride the other one’s face

➣ whether its nam-gyu or thanos plowing you, you can bet you’re leaving with bite marks all over your neck, tits, stomach, thighs and occasionally your ass

➣ will degrade you to each other, or even just in general

“shit, you told me she was a slut but i didn’t think it was this bad”

“fuck, you love when we use you like the cheap bitch you are, don’t you—“

“bet she was thinking of doing this all day huh, the pathetic little whore.” “better fuck her ‘till she can’t think about anything else then, if she wants to be so dirty minded”

➣ the aftercare is in fact a cuddle-pile, why do you ask? typically only after a particularly rough session though

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

i had way too much fun with this i fear, its been an idea brewing in my noggin for a minute now so i’m hoping you guys enjoy, even if it isn’t a request!

as always, any advice/constructive criticism on how i can improve my writing is appreciated and requested! have a great night/day lovelies 💋

tags: @kouzih @gongyoosgf @strangelife122 @gabbystinks @kvstjwonnie @pink-apples001 @fiicalapsiholoaga

#squid game 2 #squid game #squid game smut #squid game x reader #x reader smut #x reader fanfiction #player 230 #player 124 #player 230 x reader #player 124 x reader #nam gyu #thanos #thanos x reader #fanfiction

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kooggukk · 2 days ago

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𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 BEYOND THE JOB // JJK

daddy jungkook (literally)

; babysitting the cutest angel on earth is the perfect job. (except when her father is fucking hot and wants all of you)

+ comment if u wnna be added to the taglist

— 1/??

“seriously though, you have to fuckin’ quit that job already.”

Sasha, who happens to be your best friend ever since you started working at the local elementary school, just lectured you again. she was already teaching there when you arrived, you spent your lunch breaks with her and even be each other’s substitute sometimes.

surprisingly, she quit a few months after that. you stayed close though. at first, she was dying to know the drama happening among the teaching staff, but as shit kept going down which included you and the principal, all you ever hear from her is that you need to quit.

it wasn’t a huge surprise to her when you first told her your boss, aka the school’s principal, asked you out. it was weird, but everyone knew he was.. a little desperate. he had asked most of the female teachers out, some who agreed could only say bad things about the experience.

you declined his offer politely, explaining that you don’t want your personal life to mix with your job. it was awkward after that, but turns out he seems to be the dumbest person on earth. he asked you out two weeks after that, again.

still to this day, he keeps asking you out over and over and you keep rejecting him over and over again. sure, he got a lil’ crush on you, sweet, right? fuck no. he’s a pervert, doesn’t know what personal space is.

“but i need the money. i don’t know where else i could get such good salary.” you told her, for the nth time.

“be a stripper,” Sasha casually said, sipping on her diet coke while your eyes widened.

“don’t say nonsense, dafuq..” you both shared a giggle, but you definitely won’t put that job idea on the bottom of your list. maybe in the middle, or top 5. if you really can’t find a good place, then gotta be top 3.

“you could be one until you save enough money, then look for a less crazy one.”

“there’s never enough money, sasha.” you sighed, fuck inflation. when you grew up and finished studying, you realized the hardest part of being an adult was money. it’s crazy how difficult it is to make a living.

“if you don’t give in your quitting notice tomorrow, i’m gonna do it for you instead.” she narrowed her eyes at you.

“i don’t want to make a decision too quick. not until i know i can find another job.”

“quit.”

“no.”

“quit.”

“no.”

“quit.”

…

“okay.”

she squealed in her chair, gaining some attention on the two of you.

“if you dare to lie to me right now, i’m gonna make you eat your own shit.”

you kicked her under the table, sending her a glare. “behave, bitch.”

┈ ⪩⪨ ┈

“oh, __! what brings you here today?” your boss, sehun immediately stood up from his chair, ready to greet you with a hug.

panicking, you reached your hand out with a paper, catching his attention. “this is..?”

“my resignation notice, sir.”

“your what?”

he took the paper from your grip, examining it carefully. his eyebrows fell together, eyes scanning every single word.

he backed up, resting on the edge of his table. he looked at the paper again, rereading the first sentence.

‘Kindly accept this letter as my formal resignation…’

“are you sure, __?” he asked, putting the paper on his table. he crossed his arms, frustration written on his face.

you fixed your hair, giving him a firm nod. “yeah, i’ve been thinking of it for a while now.”

“i’m glad i could be a part of this amazing team, but i just feel like,” you struggled to find the words, obviously you didn’t want to tell in his face.

‘aye bruh, stop bein’ a pervert and you might stop losing your workers’

“look, teaching isn’t my thing. and i feel horrible to find that out so late.”

“well, if your passion for teaching ever comes back, you’re more than welcomed here.”

“thank you,” you smiled, because even though he’s the most annoying person you’ve ever met, your co-workers have always been kind to you.

the children also love you, and you’re extremely thankful for all the support and love you got from everyone.

during the usual lunch break, you co-workers heard the news too. they all wished you the best with a hug, some getting emotional too.

officially, this was your last week working at the school.

when you got home, sasha sent you a link to an advertisement.

‘looking for a nanny’

you laughed, dialing her contact. didn’t take her long to answer, obviously. she’s always on her damn phone, even when working.

“you can’t be serious. a nanny?” you laughed, finding the idea of you with a kid ridiculous.

“have you seen the description? girl, they pay damn well!” she said, followed by her exhaling.

“didn’t you say you’re gonna stop smoking?”

“i stopped. for three hours.”

you shook your head, putting her on speaker as you clicked the advertisement.

“170.000₩?” you blurted out loud, “a day?!” sasha hummed on the other side of the call.

“told ya’..”

“that’s.. nice. woah, yeah, nice.” you mumbled as you continued to read the requirements and some important details about the job.

“give it a try.” sasha said, but your eyes caught a sentence.

“they want someone with experience, as expected.” you let out a long sigh and fell back on your bed.

“you got the experience.”

“me? sasha, i never looked after a kid-“

“you work with kids. first and second graders. and they all fuckin’ love you.”

“that’s different.” you groaned.

“it’s not. a kid is a kid. 3 year olds are just as damn annoying as 7 year olds. prove me wrong..”

you laughed, she was right. they can be a huge pain in the ass, but they have the purest soul.

“true.”

“give it a try, __.” she said again, calling you by your name. oh she’s serious serious.

“yeah, i might call tomorrow then.”

“might? no, you will.” she corrected you and you rolled your eyes.

“sure.”

you called them the next day after considering it for half a day, being the typical embarrassment, you called at the wrong time.

the man was in a hurry, so you both just quickly agree on a time to meet in person. that happened to be the day after.

you looked at the address one more time after you got off the bus, realizing it was more of a wealthy neighborhood. you only had to walk about 5 minutes until you got there, hesitantly but you pressed the bell.

a tall, young man opened the door. his skin is smooth and fair, almost perfect. his hair dark, slightly wavy which was styled in a mullet cut, longer at the back.

his choice in clothes seemed to be rich, a white ribbed polo shirt with short sleeves, causing your eyes to drop to his sleeve tattoo in a second. he paired it with black tailored trousers.

“hey, you must be __?” he asked with uncertainty and you came back to life, smiling to him.

“yeah, i am.”

“great, come in.”

he stepped aside and you walked in, taking off your shoes and jacket.

the house was oddly barely decorated, not a single picture or painting on the walls, very few plants, which you’re sure are fake plants also. the house wasn’t really colorful, most of the furnitures are bright. like beige and cream white.

“would you like a drink? water, tea, soda? maybe coffee?” he suggested as he walked in front of you, leading you to the living room.

“no, thank you.” you politely refused, feeling a little.. off in such a nice home. not something you’re used to.

you sat down on the couch, carefully not to mess the neatly placed pillows behind. god you looked so uncomfortable and awkward.

“i’d like to introduce myself again, in person this time.” he spoke as he sat down on the armchair, next to the couch.

“i’m jeon jungkook, 27. i’m a dentist in the center of seoul. i’m the father of a sweet angel, nabi. she turns 5 in a few weeks, we could say she’s in her, erm,” he struggled to find an appropriate word.

“crazy phase?” you asked with a smile.

“yeah, something like that. she’s been loud lately, that’s all.” he chuckled, resting his arms on his knees.

you nodded and held your small bag tightly, “i’d like to introduce myself better too, then.”

“i’m __, 24 and i currently work at an elementary school. i handed in my resignation letter and this is my last week as a teacher, so i’m searching for a new job currently.”

you paused, hesitant what else to say.

“elementary school? so, you work with kids?”

“yes, first and second grade.”

after a few minutes of getting to know each other more, a little girl, most likely his daughter, walked down the stairs with her sleepy appearance.

“oh!” she stopped the moment she saw you, the tiredness leaving her eyes.

“nabi, c’mere.” jungkook held out his hand, “this is __. what do you say?” he asked her, holding her tiny hands.

“hello.” she greeted you and you smiled, her shyness is adorable.

“hi.”

“__ is here because she would like to look after you.” he said and she looked up to him so fast, you thought her neck would snap.

“daddy, are you leeving me?” she gasped and jungkook chuckled at her words, shaking his head.

“no, but when i’m at work, someone needs to be here and take care of you. how about __, does she seem nice? hm?”

the little girl shrugged, hugging her father’s arm. he sent her back to the bedroom, saying he would be there soon too.

“well, she’s a little shy at first but, i think she’s gonna open up fast.” he smiled and stood up, your eyes widening a bit and you stood up too.

“does that mean, i got the job?”

“see you next monday?” he asked and you almost started jumping, but you held back. instead, you gave him a huge smile and nodded.

“monday then.”

#bts #bts jungkook #bts x reader #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x yn #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan

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strawberrymoosetracks · 23 hours ago

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I read this as if it were in the modern day, and that the aforementioned God of War has taken on the modern form of someone who would be consitered the most powerful soldier, or the epitome of modern war. To me, the epitome of modern war is just a relatively fit guy who sits in a room with a PC. Heres my take on it, I didn't put much effort into this so sorry if it sucks :)

I've got to hand it to humans, they are great at making things efficient. Their innovation is beyond any other species I've encountered. One of their favorite things to make more efficient is war. Back in the old days, they trained young men, put them in armor, gave them a sword, and marched them thousands of miles for a fight against other young men who were similarly armed.

They started including horses, which sped up the transportation process. Then they came up with guns. A marvelous invention really. It made war much quicker, but it also forced armor to get better. As much as I liked the shiny armors, it was always too loud. It was nearly impossible to sneak anywhere, and seeing was a nightmare.

Nowadays, the most powerful warmonger is a guy at a desk. One may think that is crazy, but in all fairness, that guy has the ability to shoot a thousand suns at whoever they want to. I've had this job for eighty years, under three seperate faces.

I love efficiency...but the God of War gets bored when the people capeable of war are too scared to fight eachother. The Cold War ranks the lowest out of all the fun wars. Sooo, I look for fun in other ways. I started in the eighties when I could find someone who wasn't an anti-war hippie, but wasn't a complete jerk. That was when I realised my love language. I love physical touch. It's like my kryptonite. Maybe it's that it's been years since any soldier was willing to hug, especially in high war time. I had forgotten how great it felt to hug.

And now we get to the modern day, I have a girlfriend. She's super sweet, but sometimes she has some...interesting ideas. We get into conversations and find out that she has the strangest ideas. We go to the bar with friends and get into conversations about the romans, and as someone who was there, I have to set them straight. They always brush me off, saying that it can't be true. Maybe in my next iteration I can become a historian and set these lies straight. Anyways, we were at a bar with some other soldiers, and we were talking about Ares. That used to be my name, but I have been though too many lives since then.

"You think you can buy the loyalty of the God of War with something as small as affection? Don't be stupid." Leah said, taking a sip of her drink.

As the others seemed to agree, I just had to intervine. "As the aforementioned God of War, she's wrong you can absolutely do that. I'm basically a cat; pat my head and l'l be your loyal servant for... five minutes, give or take?"

The group was completely silent. They all stared at me, trying to work though it. Leah started laughing, "You're funny, Levi. You don't even get in real combat. Like come on." She slowly stoped laughing as my face continued to be serious. "You're not joking? You really think you're the God of War?"

"I don't think, I know." I said, staring into their blank faces, "Ok watch." I looked around the bar and eyed two guys who were friends. I pointed at them, and they immediately became enraged. They yelled at eachother, mostly nonsense. There was no real greivance, just some pent up anger I was using. One was about to swing when they suddenly stopped, sitting down and continued to talk as normal. I turned back to my drink and took a small sip.

I took a deep breath in and out, my shoulders dramatically rising and falling. It had been centuries since I told anyone I was the God of War. Since the romans went out, people stopped believing in pantheon gods. I would have shown the middevial europe my real self, but I had inconveniently been turned into a woman at that time. Calling myself a God was an easy way to get burnt at the stake, and getting out of that was too much work.

"No way..." My girlfriend muttered, staring at me.

I slowly turned to her, "Well, do I give loyalty for head pats?" She nodded slowly, her mouth agape.

My buddy next to her slowly leaned over and patted me on the head, "Please don't kill me."

I smirked, "Wasn't planning on it." I drank the rest of my drink and set it down, not really knowing how to start back up the conversation. It just became dead silent, everyone grapling with my revealed identity. Well I just ruined the night with this again, teaches me to never reveal myself with my close friends. So many centuries into this, and I apparently still have many things to learn.

—"You think you can buy the loyalty of the God of War with something as fickle as affection? Don't be foolish." —"As the aforementioned God of War, she's wrong. You can absolutely do that. I'm basically a cat; pat my head and I'll be your loyal servant for… five minutes, give or take?"

#writeblr #writing #I'm new to this whole writing thin #Hopefully this doesn't suck

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revelboo · 3 days ago

Note

Hi Revel! Not a request or anything but I just wanted to send in an ask telling you how much I appreciate your works! There’s such variety to choose from and I’m constantly impressed with the storylines that you craft and everything you come up with! I love how much you’ve thought about each character and it really shows in your work. For example, you’ve gone into little bits here and there about how each of your Starscreams’ are different and you are just superb at showing it! (Your take on Armada Starscream is my absolute favorite!!) It’s really inspiring honestly and makes me want to get back into fanfiction again. I can’t tell you how much I look forward to checking your blog each day and seeing what you’ve been up to! Also your blog is so accessible! I cannot imagine all the links you have to put in and kept up with but I’m so grateful for it! Ah, sorry for the rambling but I hope life treats you well. :^] <3

Here’s a silly little photo for you! He is so little <3

Thank you! I’m glad you like my nonsense and go out there and write the things you love! 💕

Bee’s just a tiny bab.

Even If It Kills Me Pt 14

Armada Starscream x Reader

• Head lifting from where you’re idly drawing on his datapad, you go still at the smell of food. Actual, hot food not chips or cookies. And Runway chirps holding up a brown paper bag. Watching the other two try to seize it from him before Starscream huffs through his vents and picks you up to set down on the floor with the mini-cons. “How did you get fast food?” You ask as Runway pushes the bag in your hands and then drapes himself against your back when you sit crosslegged on the floor and open it, the other two creeping closer and openly curious.

• Wings lifting and falling as he retrieves an energon cube for himself and smaller ones for the mini-cons and joins you on the floor, he watches you remove little wrapped packages from the bag. “The mini-cons found it,” he says and you shoot him a look. “A human set it on an outdoor table in the park and Runway snatched it,” he admits with a grimace. You don’t look angry, though as you grab a fistful of little yellow sticks and shove them in your mouth, eyes closing. Watches Sonar and Jetstorm lean over to vent curiously, recoiling when you offer them a bit. “They can’t eat that. Unless you want them purging on you later.”

• “Thank you for taking care of me,” you whisper to the mini-cons and Runway affectionately butts his helm against you before seizing one of the mini energon cubes Starscream is holding out for them. Because you’ve been wanting real food rather than the junk food Star keeps bringing you. Know he’s trying his best, keeps stealing things for you and he’s been working on something lately in a corner of his habsuite, the paneling of the wall and floor pulled up over there. Not sure what he’s up to since he gets flustered when you ask, making you think it has to do with you.

• “I’ve told you that you don’t need to thank me or them for that,” he mutters before taking a deep drink. Aware of you grinning up at him before you turn your attention back on the food, eating much quicker than you normally do to make him feel guilty. Because he’s almost certain he’s doing a terrible job caring for you and you’re just too nice to say anything to him. You seem happier at least with him. When you have your nightmares and he remembers the bruises on your face when he’d found you, the resignation, he thinks about returning to that home he’d found you at. Wanting to find whoever scared you so bad you still can’t shake the fear. Knows he’ll likely never be able to get revenge on his tormentor, but he could remove yours from the face of this world. But if he does and you ever find out, you may not look at him the same way anymore and he can’t risk that. Wants you to keep smiling for him. To be worthy of your trust.

• “I know,” you say, looking up to find him frowning at nothing like he sometimes does. That little show and tell of scars was the most he’s let his guard down and had been enough to understand that he understands you, because he’s suffered at someone else’s hands, too. That he’s been through not exactly the same thing, but something similar enough and he’d not been completely broken by it helps you keep smiling for him. He’s gruff and awkward, but he’s kind. And you want to protect him and that kindness, because it means everything to you.

#transformers x reader #starscream x reader #idw starscream

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brooke121000 · 9 hours ago

Text

aftercare • s. reid

summary: in which Spencer and Reader have a rough night together, and in the morning he worries wether he hurt her or not.

contains: vague descriptions of s3x.

———————————౨ৎ———————————

Your heart was rushing, your face was hot, and your nerves were shot to high hell. To say that Spencer had railed you would be an understatement. You two had been up for a while- it was a weekend, so you didn’t have the usual threat of your 8:00 alarm putting a damper on the night. By the morning, Spencer had woken up first.

He sat up and ran a hand through his hair, sighing and turning to observe your sleeping form.

Your neck was riddled in hickeys, your face tear-streaked and flushed. Eyes softening, he ran a hand over your arm and pulled the blanket further over your bare torso, hoping to at least cease your shivering.

The contact was enough to rouse you from your sleep. Your breath steadied, eyes flickering open.

“Hey, sweet girl.” Spencer murmured, his voice gentle and amorous.

You had looked up and seen him- his head was tilted to the side, features tense. “hey- what’s up?”

“Nothing-“ he shook his head. “Do you feel alright?”

“Mhm.”

He pulled you in closer to him, pressing a kiss to your nose- but his expression was unmistakable.

You met his eyes. “Penny for your thoughts?”

There was a comfortable silence for a while- before he finally spoke.

“Nothing, it’s just, uh- you cried.”

You paused for a moment- he was holding your face, his thumb trailing down your jaw and to your neck.

“..I did.” You finally spoke.

….

“It’s okay, Spence.” You smiled. “If I wanted you to stop I woulda told you.”

“Are you sure?” He frowned. “Cus if I hurt you, or made you uncomfortable, or-“

“‘M alright. My legs are still shaking though, Jesus.”

He beamed. “Yeah, they do that a lot. It’s actually the muscles response to an orgasm- your brain releases prostaglandins after sex, which cause muscle contractions. Sometimes it lingers, especially coupled with exhaustion.”

You nodded.

“Are you..” his eyes met you, full and worried. “Sure you’re okay?”

“Spencer, it’s fine.” You said, leaning your head on your chest. He took your hand in his. “ ‘s like you said- you just exhausted me. I’ll be alright.”

He grinned. “Well, now you’re just inflating my ego.”

“Oh, shut up.”

He ran a hand down your back. “Do you want breakfast, angel? I can make waffles.”

Your head perked up. “Waffles? At..” you turned to check the alarm clock. “6 AM? You really love me, huh?”

“Mhm.” He kissed the top of your head a final time and pulled his body away from you, getting out of bed and pulling the sheets back over you. He yawned and pulled on some pajamas, still groggy. When he finally made his way over to the door, you made a noise of protest.

“Spencer, wait.”

He turned, a hand on the doorway. “what’s wrong?”

“..can you stay a little longer?” You murmured.

He smiled. “..yea.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #fluff #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #smut

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 days ago

Text

Meet the Family 9

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, reference to suicide and Lloyd being offensive, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your boss needs a last-minute favour for the holidays.(petite!reader)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Note: Thanks for all your patience.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

Migraines always leave you a bit foggy. Like a hangover, or even a concussion. You power through the airport, waiting in line with your mustachioed curse. Lloyd taps his toe incessantly, adding to the plethora of overstimulation all around you. This isn’t how you envisioned your holidays.

It’s the 26th and you’re supposed to be on your way home, not catching the flight you booked for two days before. And alone. You’re supposed to be alone.

You take your boarding pass and leave Lloyd’s for him to grab himself. He huffs and follows after you. He’s like a big dumb dog sometimes. It’s amazing that the realization only comes over you then. It’s pretty obvious when he’s not behind a desk growling like some mafioso. He’s no kingpin, he’s a clown.

You drop into a seat, your carry-on beside you, and he claims the seat to your left. He’s on the edge, jiggling his leg. You could thank him for upgrading you both to first class but he’s the reason you’re even there. It’s the least he could do.

You cross your arms and stare through the haze. The first-class lounge is quiet and softly lit. Isolated but for the pest next to you. He continues to fidget. Is he nervous? You didn’t think that was possible since he seems to lack any degree of self-awareness.

“So, gimme the down low. You got a mom? Girl like you screams daddy issues. Is he still around?”

You sigh. “Sure is.”

“Wow, okay. Good guy? Strict? Shit, knowing you, he must be a hard ass,” he scoffs. “Should I put on my best behaviour? Should I have worn a tie, Pixie pie?” He tugs at the collar of his turtleneck.

“What you can do is hush,” you retort. “Jesus, I’m tryna get my head together.”

“Last night was wild,” he agrees, though it’s not the point you were making, nor a statement of fact. “We were so close, Pix. You shoulda just laid back and let the magic hands do their tricks. Promise,” he smooths his mustache, “this isn’t just for show. I’ve been told it adds a lot of sensation--”

“Ew. Would you—if you even say any of that in front of my family--”

“You gonna spank me?” He asks brightly and sits back, slinging an arm over the back of your chair.

“Please. I have to at least make this believable and you’re not making it any easier,” you snarl.

“Are you serious? Our chemistry is like if Einstein banged a beaker--”

“Einstein was a physicist--”

“Science is science, baby. All I know is there’s something here and the sooner you accept it, the harder I’ll-- I mean the easier this will be.”

You look at him dully. All those years you spent bending over backward for him. Behind the mask, he’s a cretin. You always had a suspicion but he was never your creep to deal with.

“How do you do that?” He asks.

You grumble and shake your head, turning your glare to the flat screen across from you.

“How the hell do you skin a man with your eyes? It’s bone tingling and boner-inducing, but damn, it’s something else,” he shifts in his chair noticeably, “you’re gonna make me fly all the way to Canada at half-mast?”

“You can book a seat across the plane from me if you’re going to keep on,” you warn him. “I’m really not in the mood. We have a deal. I’ll do my part. Pretend, nothing more, and you’ll keep your hands to yourself and give me my money.”

“I got it, baby. I’m a businessman,” he turns straight and plants his feet wide. “I make deals every day. You’ll get yours.”

“I want an advance--”

“An advance? What the hell do you mean? I paid for first-class. Elite,” he punctuates with his finger. “Advance, my juicy ass.”

“Ten. In my account. Before take-off.”

“Pfft, you don’t trust me?”

“No, I don’t,” you affirm. “More so, you owe me. I defaulted on the refund on the flight you made me miss. Oh, and I didn’t get to see my family. On Christmas.”

“Jeez, well you don’t seem that happy to,” he accuses.

“Money, now.”

“Fine, but I get one titty grab--”

“You get nothing. Mon-ey.” You rub your fingers together.

He huffs and leans forward as he takes his phone out. He rolls his eyes and taps around on the screen. He takes a deep breath then pushes down. He shows you the screen. “Go ahead and check. You got your blood money.”

“This is your idea,” you retort.

“It is my idea but you’re rejecting all my other ones. Like, you know, a sexy massage with a happy ending...”

“You’re going to give me another headache.”

“I’ll take it. At least I make you feel something.” He shrugs.

You shake your head at nothing and check your phone. You can never be too careful with him. Sharing a room has more than proven that.

🎁

You put the in-flight earbuds in and resign yourself to the hours ahead of you, trapped in a flying canister, next to this incessant man-child. He really brings out the bitch in you. That irritates you even more. You could do anything before without much thought at all; you just got through but Lloyd makes everything a task.

You close your eyes as the video babbles on. It’s a new release, but those are all remakes and sequels without any real interest. The altitude does little for the shadow of achiness that lingers in the base of your skull. One wrong move and you’ll reawaken your migraine.

The steady thrum of air around the plane lulls you in a stupor. Just enough for you to stop caring but not deep enough for sleep. You let your head fall toward the window and sink into the numb daze.

A small tickle makes you shift. You think nothing of it. It’s so small, it could be nothing. Then the sensation travels down to your knee and back up your thigh. You smack Lloyd’s hand before he can repeat the action.

“Quit,” you hiss.

He spreads his hand and curls his fingers into your tender flesh. You squeak and open your eyes, clasping onto his wrist as he needs. It’s as if he pinching your nerves.

“Ow, oh, stop--” you protest.

“Come on, baby,” he leans over and winks. “Just let me pet the kitty. It’ll help you relax.”

“How many times can I tell you the same thing--”

“Just like a dog, you need to be repetitive. Conditioning or whatever,” he purrs.

You glance past him at the low wall blocking out your seats from the sight of the other pods in first class. You clutch his two middle fingers and squeeze. You bend them back until he grunts and recoils.

“You touching me isn’t going to make me relax--”

“Never know if you don’t try,” he wiggles his brows.

“Trust me, I know.”

“I’m sure your family don’t need you in a pissy mood. I’m doing it for them, Pixie.”

“Can I ask you something?” You narrow your eyes, “does the begging usually work?”

He snorts. He shakes his head and sits back, raising his palms, “you will be flattered to know I don’t usually beg.” He leans against the seat and rests his head on the cushion. “When I tell a girl to hike her skirt up, she just does it. All of them but you.” He clucks and rolls his eyes. “You know that pretty blond from Pristine? Yeah, whenever she comes around, I got her bent over the desk. Thought you’d catch on, she’s not very quiet.”

You won’t grace him with an excuse. You don’t need one. You’re usually busy, minding your own business, running his errands. You never cared about his office flings.

“Maybe you should’ve asked her to meet your family,” you suggest.

“Kidding me? She never shuts up. I gotta stuff my tie in her mouth. Usually why I turn her around--”

“Lloyd,” you snap.

“Jealous?” He smirks and you stare back blankly. “You know what? Gotta admit, you surprised me, Pixie Pie. Always quiet in the office, scurrying around like a little mouse. I figured you’d be good because you’d keep the yapper shut. Turns out, you know how to cut deep.” He pushes his shoulders wide and settles. “Never saw mom like that. Or Lillian. Yeah, that was good. You really got her.”

He snickers and flutters his fingers menacingly. You yawn and look at the small screen. You don’t know what’s going on in the movie. What you do know is that Lloyd Hansen has more issues than one person can solve and you’re not there for anything but business. This is work. You’re getting your money and you’re moving on.

🎁

Landing is usually a relief. You’re always happy to be on solid ground but it feels shaky as you walk off with your travel companion. The bounce in Lloyd’s step concerns you. He’s much too eager for this.

He grabs his bags from the carousel, yours too before you can even approach. He loads them all onto a car and steers it around the airport. He’s whistling as you get through the terminal and head for the front doors. As you step outside, he chatters and stops short.

“Holy grizzly dick, it’s freezing here,” he puffs a cloud of steam as his nose tints pink.

“There’s not much more snow here than back in the States.”

“Nah, it’s fucking frigid. Should’ve known,” he shivers and tucks his chin down. You make note of his snipe but don’t acknowledge it. “You maple drinkers drive on the same side of the road?” You glare at him and he winces as he meets your eyes. You’ve booked him trips to Vancouver several times. “Kidding. Obviously. That whole polite stereotype is bullshit, huh, Pix.”

You ignore him and hail a cab. You just want to be still. The last few days, you’ve been upended. The long drive, his family, the hotel, then a plane ride on top of it all. You’re ready to just stop.

He wheels the cart around to the trunk and leaves it to the driver to load. You want to admonish him but you’re over the argument. You know you’re going to need your energy. You get in and he climbs in with you.

He blows into his hands then rubs his cheek. “Santa dropped a load on this place, huh?” He unzips his coat and reaches under it. He fishes around the inside pocket and slips out a pair of glasses. You furrow your nose. You’ve never seen him wear glasses.

“Where did you get those?”

“Hipster boy in coach. Snagged them when I hit the restroom,” he explains and pops them on, leaning against you as he cranes to see his reflection in the rear-view mirror.

“You stole glasses?”

“Borrowed,” he insists then turns to you. “What’d ya think? Am I the perfect good boy for mom and pop?”

“You think glasses are gonna do something?”

“We talked about this, we gotta be convincing, sweetheart. I gotta be a man that sweet lil Pixie would go for.” He adjusts the glasses. “I read Hemingway and have a degree in Social Justice.”

“Shut--” you catch yourself and sniff. “I don’t even like Hemingway.”

“Jane Austen? Really? A romantic?”

“Does it matter?”

“I’d say. We have to at least pretend we can stand each other. Not just...” he looks down at his lap, “stand for each other.”

“Ugh, well, start with cutting out those nasty remarks. Second, try, uh, taking care of...” you gesture over your lip, “this.”

He blinks and his brows draw together. He touches his upper lip, “my mustache?” His eyes widen behind the lenses. “Um, this is style, honey.”

You scrunch your lips as you try not to laugh. He really believes that. You shrug as the driver gets in. He crosses his arms.

“Whatever. Judge me but don’t just the stache,” he snips. “So, you gotta tell me. Favourite book.”

“Do I?”

“Well, we’re ‘engaged’ so I think I should know,” he argues.

You watch through the windshield as the taxi follows the airport traffic to the street, “The Bell Jar. If I have to choose one.”

“Oooh, Plath. How... depressing. But I knew it, you’re a reader, Pixie. Bet you like to sink into a hot tub and get cozy with a good novel. You get the kinky one, let the hand wander below the surface--”

You elbow him and he cackles. “Alright, sorry. I just—a man’s used to eating daily.”

“Maybe a diet will do you well,” you retort.

“Cheat day will come soon enough,” he says. “I’ll do my best to keep my pants on, just don’t go putting your head in any ovens.”

“You’re awful,” you exclaim. “That’s awful.”

“Alright,” he combs his hair back, “gonna be a good boy. Promise.”

“You can take the glasses off.”

“I kinda like ‘em,” he grins and pinches the arms.

You make a face but say nothing. The city passes by and your eyes gloss over the familiar sights. The taxi drops you at the rental place and you pull up the booking. There’s at least an hour before you get outside Toronto, then another to your mom’s place. You take the keys and jingle them at Lloyd.

“Wanna drive?” You ask.

“I don’t really know where I’m going,” he says.

“Right.”

“Besides, Pixie, you got control issues.”

“Me?” You scoff. “Sure.”

“Oh, you do,” he assures you as you cross the lot to the rental. “Once you give in to them, you’ll be a lot happier and I'll be your perfect sub.”

You pop the trunk and tut as you approach the driver’s side, “get the bags in the car, would ya?”

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #series #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #meet the family #the gray man

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glorioustidalwavedefendor · 11 hours ago

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Also

Sometimes you'd just invite death, if it took to long ...

I have had the tremendous good fortune to know several mycologists, all of whom I would trust with my life and to help me hide a body should the occasion arise but not with a Ham Sandwich. A Short List of the bullshit I’ve seen the Mycologists do:

Went out on a late-summer mushrooming expidition with some as part of a class in scientific illustration to collect samples. The scandanavians are notorious about keeping thier family mushrooming grounds a secret but in order to go up with the mycologists, we all had to be blindflded for the better part of an hour in the car as we got close, and put our hands on a copy of All The Rain Promises And More because they didn’t think the Bible was “Serious Enough” and swear to keep any educated guesses we had about where we were a secret.

I thought this was perhaps over-doing it a little, until Valerie (not her real name) waved me over to a patch of rather boring looking white mushrooms and told me, Quote: “Now, when I was a young woman*, this was a more serious issue but should you ever find someone worthy of a slow, painful death, all you need is a sliver of these. The first symptom is stomach cramps and by then it’s too late. The toxin interferes with the body’s ability to translate DNA into protiens, and once it sets in, it’s irreversible. He’ll be dead no more than five days later of liver failure.” “That’s fascinating Valerie. I will keep it in mind.” “You’re a smart G- No. What’s the word. Thing that comes out at night**. Anyway, I’m sure you can find your way back here.”

*for context, Valerie is old enough that when she was born, women couldn’t vote. Sometimes, fools have the hubris to ask her what she thinks of the Good Old Days and she tells them that it’s so good that divorce and women’s rights has become a thing, instead of ‘having to beat a man to death and blame it on the poor mule” to get out of a bad marriage.

"Back in the day nobody got divorced, people understood that marriage is for life" yeah and back in the day it was normal for someone to be on their third marriage by 35 because their last two spouses died of tuberculosis, mine collapse or childbirth. "Till death do us apart" is a lot less of a serious commitment when Death is your next-door neighbour who visits every thursday to talk shit and drink tea.

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sinnabarmoth · 2 days ago

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Taking Care

Pairing: Rafayel x Fem|Reader

Prompt: Mini fic of Reader being a soft!dom with the lads. (Not necessarily sexual, just sweet 'let me take care of you' vibes)

Word count: 1k

Links to the other lads: (Sylus) (Xavier) (Zayne)

You hadn’t heard from Rafayel in a couple days which was…concerning. For someone that got upset when you forgot to text him at least once a day his radio silence was baffling. You texted, you called, but nothing. You even tried asking Thomas but he just shrugged and said that sometimes when Rafayel was working on a new piece he went full hermit mode. No one but the food delivery driver was going to see him.

You decided that just wouldn’t do. You knew how Rafayel was and you would not put it past him to forget to eat or sleep because he was too in the zone while working. So you went to the store to buy some ingredients for a home cooked dinner and went to his place. You let yourself in using the spare key he had given you and wandered in. No signs of life in the living room or kitchen. You put the groceries away and went to the studio.

Sure enough, there he was. He was sat in the middle of the floor hunched over a canvas. There was some old half eaten food containers shoved off to the side and various sketches scattered around the floor.

“Raf,” you said, “Still alive over there?”

He sat up straight and you could hear his bones crack as he straightened. You could see him wince as he stretched and turned to look at you. “Oh hi,” he said, “What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering your phone, I came to check on you.” you got closer and noticed that his entire person was covered in smudges of paint both fresh and dried. His hair was greasy and lank, and there were huge bags under his eyes. There was also an undeniable funk coming off of him that made your nose wrinkle. “Good thing I did too. What on earth are you doing?”

“Inspiration called and I had to answer.” he gestured to the painting. “She’s nearly done. I’ve been adding the finishing touches.”

“Okay. Glad to know you’ve been working hard but this is too much. You smell terrible and when was the last time you slept?”

“I don’t need sleep.”

“Yes, you very much do.” you held out your hand, “You can finish your painting tomorrow. You’re mine tonight.”

“Oh really?”

“Not in that way. Come on.” you hauled him to his feet and pulled him into the bathroom.

“Cutie, this really isn’t necessary--”

“Raf, sweetie,” you cupped his face, “You don’t look well. I knew there was a chance you weren’t taking care of yourself but I didn’t realize it was this bad. Now come along, we’re gonna get you cleaned up, I’m making us dinner, and then you are going to bed. Got it?”

“I know better than to say no to you.” he smiled. “What do you want me to do first?”

“You can start by brushing your teeth and having a shave, you’re stubbly.” you turned him to the sink. “I’m gonna draw you a bath.”

After he had finished you ordered him to strip and get in the tub. There was a cheeky offer to join him but you shook your head and told him he wasn’t getting anything like that until after he had a full night’s sleep. You did however sit at the edge of the tub and reclined his head back so you could wash his hair and massage his scalp. A deep sigh of satisfaction left him as you gently lathered the grease out of his hair. You left him to dry himself off and went to the bedroom to grab a change of clothes and threw his dirty clothes in the wash.

He looked so much better. “There’s my clean soft boyfriend again.” Without having to worry about his bad breath you pulled him down and gave him a kiss, little droplets of water from his still wet hair dripped onto your hands. “Feeling any better?”

“Much.”

“Good. Now come along. I’m gonna get dinner started.”

“Want any help?”

“No. You’ll just slow me down. You can pick out a movie for us to watch though.” you pulled him into the living room and sat him down on the couch. “Stay.”

“Yes ma’am.” he gave a little salute and turned on the TV. You went into the kitchen and started cooking. It wasn’t anything extravagant, just some simple porridge that was filling and hearty.

As you were cooking you kept glancing over at Rafayel just to make sure he was still doing okay. It broke your heart seeing how little he was taking care of himself. Was this what he was like before? How many times had he done something like this? Did Thomas pull him out of his spirals or did he end up just crashing and took care of himself after he got some actual sleep? You didn’t want to know. He had you now and you weren’t going to let him keep up these kinds of bad habits. Inspiration be damned! His health mattered more to you.

Once the food was ready you handed a large serving over to him, threw a blanket over your laps, and settled down to watch the movie he had picked. “Thanks for doing all this. It wasn’t necessary though. I was fine.”

“You were most decidedly not fine, Raf.” you ran a hand through his hair. “You looked like death warmed over and smelled just as bad. It’s not just you anymore, you have to take better care of yourself, doesn’t matter about inspiration. I want you healthy. And if you can’t be trusted to take care of yourself then I’ll do it for you.”

“I’m glad to have such an attentive caretaker.” he leaned his head on your shoulder. “I might just fall asleep right here.”

“Not until after you eat.” you picked up a spoonful of porridge and brought it to his mouth. “Eat.”

“You’re also a very no nonsense kind of caretaker.” Rafayel sighed but happily opened his mouth to accept the porridge.

“I don’t mess around when it comes to caring for what I love.” you kissed the top of his head. “Now keep eating, we’ll go to bed in a bit.”

After dinner was eaten and the movie finished Rafayel was really close to nodding off. He had started slipping about three quarters of the way through the film. When you asked him if he wanted to go to bed he shook his head and said he wanted to finish the movie first. You figured he was just too comfortable curled up next to you to want to move. But when the credits started rolling you dragged him off to the bedroom so he could have a sleep in a proper bed.

You snuggled in next to him, holding him close. “Good night, Raf. Sweet dreams.”

“So long as you are here, I know they will be.” he sighed, his eyes slipping closed. “I love you.”

You smiled and kissed his sleeping face. “Love you too.”

#love and deepspace #lads rafayel #rafayel x reader #letterbox prompt

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izvmimi · 2 days ago

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cw: platonic!zoro x reader. established romantic relationship with luffy. selfship-coded, reader has a devil fruit.

It’s not often that you and Zoro end up alone together, but today it really is just the two of you, him carrying the majority of the provisions you’d gone into town to collect for the next leg of your trip, and the remainder in the safekeeping of your internal storage.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to just stow away the rest?” you ask for the third time and by this time, Zoro decides to pretend he can’t hear you. In any other scenario, you’d make a comment about him needing to get over that silly fear of being emasculated, but for now you allow it, shoving your free hands in your pockets as you continue on on your stroll.

Even if when you’re around the rest of the crew there’s a huge and frequent show of you generally disliking each other, it’s hard to bicker when it’s just the two of you, because the truth is that you appreciate him tremendously. Zoro doesn’t always talk much, but he’s honest, and that is particularly important to you, making it easy to pour out your heart to him.

Perhaps that’s why today, you feel compelled to tell him exactly how you’ve been feeling these days since your return from the last island. Luffy has been asleep for days, recovering from injury that would probably have killed you on the spot, and while he apologized upon waking up two days ago to see you saddled with huge undereye circles and an open book with tear-staged pages at the foot of his bed, the fact of the matter is that you’re not sure how much longer you can handle this.

The crew is familiar with his wanton disregard for his own life, and perhaps you should know better by now, but it’s just too hard sometimes, and you can feel your heart starting to fill with resentment, and even that adds to your guilt.

Luffy is free, and freedom means choosing to live your life however dangerously you want.

“You know I hate complaining about him, and I know you’ll just tell me that I shouldn’t expect otherwise from Luffy, but just once, I wish he would take better care of himself.”

The thought slips out in a small voice, and Zoro lets it marinate in the quiet afternoon air. Discomfort rises like bile in your throat.

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” you immediately backtrack, but Zoro looks at you and shrugs.

“I get it. It’s fine.”

You bite your lower lip, keeping the gaze at the ground before you. Zoro should know that you’re only frustrated, that you love Luffy more than anything, and don’t mean to speak ill of him, right? It’s just eating at you, the idea that only one of you is preoccupied with the idea of separating for good.

Luffy would be fine without you even in death. You, on the other hand…

You take in a deep breath.

“I trust him,” you say out loud, to which Zoro chuckles to himself for a moment, which makes your cheeks warm in embarrassment.

“What’s so funny?!”

“That you’re this worried about him.” Zoro shoots you a glance, and mercilessly adds -

“Realistically, you’d probably croak before he does.”

“Wow!” you exclaim in dramatized offense.

Zoro shrugs. “I mean, I guess he probably cares enough about you that he wouldn’t allow that to happen, but still, I don’t think much can put that guy down for good.”

You pout, but something about that is reassuring, and that heaviness in your chest seems to alleviate just so.

“I guess that’s a relief.”

Zoro snorts again, which has you frowning at him again.

“Is it really this funny?” you ask, indignantly, but when he finally speaks again, his tone is serious.

“I think you’re misunderstanding him a bit,” he finally adds. Stopping for a moment, he gives you his full attention, and suddenly your heart starts to thump at the change in mood. He sizes you up for a moment, as if he’s trying to decide if what he has to tell you is worth it in any way, then lets out a sigh.

“He told me if something ever happened to him, there are a few things he wants to make sure happen for you, so that you’re okay.”

Your eyes widen for a moment, incredulous.

“What?”

Zoro resumes his stride.

“Can’t tell you what they are, though.”

You find yourself running to catch up to him, your heart pounding in your chest. The idea that Luffy has thought ahead, considering you even in the process, is almost too good to be true.

“So what was the point of even telling me?!” you hiss.

“So you don’t make up some narrative about not being cared for in your head, dumbass.” Zoro says. You stick your tongue out at him which has him scoff and look away, but you’re thankful.

The ship starts to reappear along the horizon and your outlook has changed a bit.

…

By the time you make it back on the ship again, Luffy has woken up from his restorative slumber and is already asking you if you brought any meat amongst your groceries, an arm looping around your shoulders and your waist. But instead of pushing him off of you for grabbing you too quickly, you look at him for a moment, and the sudden affection in your eyes is enough that it actually catches him by surprise.

“Hey, ___, what’s up?” he asks as you really take him in, but you just smile and plant a kiss on his cheek.

“Nothing. I’m just glad you’re back.”

He grins widely.

“Can’t get rid of me if you tried.”

#luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy x reader #mimi's notes #daydreams: op #lumimi

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i-dared-myself · 3 days ago

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ATEEZ x Ninth Member Headcanons

ATEEZ x reader

Slightly NSFW for but not so much so that I’m marking this 18+

Requested by anonymous: OMG YOU TAKE REQUESTS???? YOUR BLOG IS SO PERFECT Ahem- sorry, I got excited !!! Could I please request an ATEEZ 9th member au headcanons??? I've seen the skz one and now you made me want to see the idea with Ateez too!

Ahhh I’m so sorry to people who made requests before this one! I promise I'm still working on those ones, I just got really excited about ATEEZ!!!

•Hongjoon welcomes you to the group with a warm smile. He leads you to meet the others, and you know it will be chaos when you see them.

•You never feel out of place for a moment. They all make you feel welcome, and you try your very best to return that enthusiasm as you settle into the group.

•Your room is off from the others. Sometimes you like it that way, other times you don’t. It really depends.

•You like it on days where San is looking for someone to bother and Seonghwa isn’t around. You son’t like it on the nights that you have terrible dreams thay leave you sobbing into your pillows when you wake.

•When that happens, you push your door open and wander down the dark hallways. Wooyoung is always ready to comfort you, usually by using his body warmth to soothe you to sleep. And he’s not going to say anything if he gets a free cuddle out of it.

•Jongho stays up with you. You don’t mention what happened in the dreams, and he doesn’t press for an answer. Eventually you fall asleep and he doesn’t risk waking you, instead leaving you in his bed.

•Yeosang is always a bit unsure of himself. But then he remembers there’s no cameras around and you need him. So he mutters words of assurance to you and awkwardly pats your back.

•Hongjoon brings you to the kitchen with him. He either makes you a hot chocolate or a tea, depending on your mood. He lets you snuggle up to his side on the couch as you drink it, telling you about his day.

•Seonghwa immediately tugs you into his bed. He covers you in his blankets and coos about how brave you are. Sure it’s a bit ridiculous to be coddled at your age, but you soak up the love regardless.

Yunho listens as you blabber on about whatever it is. You cry into his shoulder as he rubs circles on your back. Eventually you can’t even remember what it is that woke you and doze away in his grasp.

•San groans as you poke him until he wakes up, but is fast to sit up. His brain is too foggy with sleep to really understand what’s happening, but he tosses you over his shoulder before depositing you in your bed and returning back to sleep right there on the floor. It’s the thought that counts, and that helps you.

•Mingi mutters about how he can take your nightmares in a fight, which makes you giggle. He rambles nonsense about how he’s tougher than whatever it is you’re kept up by. He’s silly and makes you laugh when you need it most.

•When your birthday comes around, you barely make it out with your life. You do your live as you were supposed to, and it goes by smoothly. No hiccups or cakes being smushed into faces.

•Then Yeosang calls you into the kitchen, and you’re awestruck by the pile of gifts on the counter, next to the worst cake you’ve ever seen.

•It’s hideous. Your name is scrawled out messily across the top in a colour that absolutely doesn’t match the frosting on the rest of it. There’s a huge crack down the centre, and you’re pretty sure you’re about to cry.

•“I told you it was fucking ugly!” Wooyoung hisses to Yunho, smacking his arm.

•You whisper that you love it, much to their surprise. Hongjoon cuts you a slice before putting it out in front of you. They sing happy birthday to you before you take a bite.

•You’re the only one to eat any of the dessert, because apparently they already ate two entire cakes. They screwed up the others even worse than the one they presented to you and didn’t know how else to discard of the evidence.

•They apologize for not just buying you a cake, and you ban them from ever buying you one. It becomes a yearly tradition for them to bake you one from scratch, and each cake gets better than the last.

•Probably because the first one gives you food poisoning. They apologize numerous times from your hospital bed, but you assure them that you’re fine.

•Your water bottle is covered with stickers. Whenever you travel in the world for a tour, Wooyoung buys you a sticker to remember it. You cry when you lose the bottle, and Hongjoon purchases you a new one.

•The rest of them pitch in to get you a bunch more stickers, until your water bottle is unrecognizable.

•Your room itself was plain when you moved in. The walls were white, the closet was empty, and the curtains were a depressing beige.

•Now, everything is slathered with your favourite colours. Mingi and San help hang the new curtains, while Yeosang and Seonghwa paint the walls. Jongho whines as he pinches his finger putting your new bed together with Hongjoon, and Yunho proudly displays glowing stars on your wall.

•It feels like home in a way you can’t describe, especially when Wooyoung trips and puts a hole in the plaster of your room. Everyone yells at him, and you don’t repair the dent.

•The day Mingi finds a bloody pad in the bathroom garbage is perhaps the most stressful day of your life. Even more so than your auditions and exams.

•He sprints into the living room, waving his arms around. He (thankfully) left it in the bathroom and didn’t touch it. “Someone here is dying!”

Hongjoon jumps to his feet, eyebrows pulling together in concern. He demands to know which member of the group has a deadly disease/alien parasite living inside them.

•You quietly admit it’s your period, and they all freeze. In all their time living with you, it hadn’t occurred to them that you went through cycles. Logically you did, but they never put two and two together.

•Seonghwa (again) coos about what a poor thing you are. You just want to curl up and die as he lifts you onto his lap and announces to the others that you’re so strong and brave.

•To which you tell him you’re not a child and stomp away to your room, slamming the door shut.

•The irony does not escape you.

•They all knock on your door, murmuring about how Seonghwa is an idiot. They promise to make him cook dinner, and anything you desire. Waffles do sound pretty good, so you open your door.

•Seonghwa is shoved closer and says how deeply sorry he is for offending you. San scratches his head and adds that you are so brave and strong.

•They all grown as you slam the door in their faces. They scold him insistently, before Seonghwa and San defend themselves.

•“I’m just saying I would be terrified to find blood coming out of me one day!” San exclaims. Seonghwa murmurs agreement. You peek out of your room hesitantly. He continues, “And having to just go on with your normal life? Yikes.”

•So you forgive them. The waffles you eat that night are fluffy and delicious.

•It’s well-known that ATEEZ is… freaky. They’re wholesome and sweet, but they’re a bunch of nasty freaks (Endearing term). You were shocked the first time Mingi used a microphone as a pretend-dick and jerked it off. That first time San kissed Wooyoung on the lips? You were horrified.

•You’ve grown used to it. You don’t even bat an eye when Jongho thrusts into the air. You’re not quite up to their level, but your face doesn’t heat up at their lewd actions, anymore.

•Although you do get flustered when they drag you into it. You cover your eyes with your hands as Seonghwa’s eyes roll back from where he’s straddled beneath you. You shriek as Yeosang slaps a hand on the wall next to your head, and nearly pass out when Hongjoon’s fingers curl around your throat.

•All of this is part of skits (You’re fairly certain of this, at least) and carefully thought out and planned ahead of time. For the days afterwards, you stay off of social media and ignore your mom’s calls.

•The time you nearly drown is a harrowing event. You take a short walk near the site you’re filming a vlog. You promise Yunho you’ll take security with you before you grab a jacket and follow a trail.

•You’re standing at the edge of a river when you realize your personal guard went on a lunch break. You sigh and turn to return to the group, not wanting to be out without protection.

•Then the dirt beneath your heel crumbles as you tumble into the rushing waters. A scream is ripped from your throat as everything is turned upside down and sideways and-

•You’re pulled onto the riverbank and gasp for air. Your eyes struggle to open, and you hear the panicked cries of the other members.

•“Who’s giving her mouth to mouth?” Yeosang shouts. The others fall into an eerie silence as you try and gather the words to tell them to back the fuck off.

•You manage to peel your eyes open, just in time to prevent San’s mouth from lowering to yours. You push him away before vomiting to the side.

•Hongjoon refuses to do any other filming that day, and brings you back home. Seonghwa cocoons you in blankets and curls up on the couch next to you. Mingi makes you a warm drink while Wooyoung runs his fingers through your hair.

•Jungho is the one to turn a movie on to distract you from your racing thoughts. Yunho dumps a bag of chips into a bowl and places it in front of you, but you’re arms are wrapped up too tightly for you too eat them.

•So Yeosang is the selfless hero who consumes the snack, telling you about how bad they taste and not to worry. When you point out that he could just feed them to you, he conveniently goes deaf from San yelling in his ear.

•And when you have nightmares that night from almost dying, you know you have plenty of people to go to.

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@velvetmoonlght

#ateez x reader #ateez #headcanons #ateez is freaky guys

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