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andshesaidwhat · 5 months ago

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Cuff Me - James Kelly Smut

Summary: You and your boyfriend, James, get into a fight after he almost runs into trouble with the police. Not liking his pissy attitude, you decide to teach him a lesson in restraint.

Warnings: unprotected sex, penetrative sex, bondage, bratty!James, teasing, James is a switch when the circumstances are right, masturbation (reader receiving), edging, denial, begging, degradation, praise, lots of pet names (pretty baby, baby, doll, etc.), James is a yapper, angst, angry sex, cock warming, multiple orgasms (reader receiving), face-sitting, handjob (James receiving), oral sex (James and reader receiving), James is a lil mean at first but reader puts him in his place.

Masterlist

You could hear the faint sounds of sirens in the distance as your stomach tied in knots. You chewed worriedly on your bottom lip, watching outside the window of the car you’d parked behind an old, rundown pub.

You sighed, rubbing your face with your hands as you closed your eyes. When you’d gotten a call from your boyfriend that he was in trouble and needed you to pick him up, you’d dropped everything to go to him. Now, as you waited, you felt the anxiety growing inside of you.

What had he gotten caught up in now?

You jumped as you heard a banging on the passenger window, opening your eyes to see James with his hood up. You quickly unlocked the car, letting him get in. He pushed his hood back, leaning against the headrest as he caught his breath.

James had a reddened bruise on his cheekbone, and his knuckles were a bit bloody. You sighed to yourself, making sure the coast was clear before beginning to drive back to the house you shared.

Knowing he was at least safe, the worry started to melt into anger as you asked, “What happened this time?”

“Frankie said he needed some help,” James sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. “I was just takin’ a drive with him, to talk. I didn’t know he’d stolen the fuckin’ car.”

“Jesus, James,” you said, exasperated. “How many times are you gonna let him rope you into these situations, huh?”

“He’s my brother,” James argued, turning to you with a defensive expression hardened onto his face. “It’s what brothers do, okay? They look out for each other.”

“He doesn’t look out for you,” you retorted, turning down the street to your neighborhood. “When has he ever sacrificed anything for your wellbeing? He doesn’t, James. All he ever does is drag you into his mess. Yet, still, every time he calls, you run to him.”

James’ jaw clenched, but he didn’t say anything — knowing that you were right. His fingers fiddled with the hem of his hoodie as he turned to look out the window, watching the houses go by.

“Things are good for you right now, James,” you said, pulling into your driveway and parking the car. “You opened up your own shop, we got our own place, we’re not in any debt anymore. Why would you want to jeopardize all of that when you’ve worked so hard to get it?”

James didn’t answer, getting out of the car and slamming the door as he walked into the house. Seething, you followed after him, storming through the front door.

“What the fuck are you mad at me for?” You yelled, grabbing his arm and spinning him around to face you. “I didn’t have to come save your ass, you know? I could’ve fucking left you to deal with your own shit. What would you have done then, hm?”

His eyes were burning with intensity and you clenched your thighs together. He was so fucking sexy when he was angry. You fought to keep your resolve, to remember why you were arguing in the first place.

James noticed the brief flash of desire in your eyes, smirking as he walked closer to you. You stood your ground, trying to keep your glare strong as he stalked toward you. He dipped his head low, caressing your cheek with a tattooed hand.

“Pretty baby,” he whispered, holding your face gently. “Gettin’ all mad at me. ‘S cute.”

He tilted your head to the side, kissing slowly down your neck. You sucked in a breath, your eyes fluttering shut as your stomach stirred with need.

“James,” you groaned, forming a weak, half-assed attempt to push him off of you. “I…I’m trying to talk to you about this.”

He raised his head back up, brushing his lips against yours as he whispered, “I’m done talkin’.”

He devoured your mouth in a hungry, heated kiss that you instantly melted into. His tongue laid claim, tasting your own as you released a breathy sigh. His hands trailed down your body, gripping your waist tightly and pulling you against him.

His movements were rough and angry. Not enough to hurt — never that — but enough for you to know that this wasn’t going to be the gentle love-making the two of you often shared.

He nipped at your lips, backing you up until you were pinned against the wall. All thoughts of your fight had flown out the window as you pushed his hoodie off of his shoulders. He raised his arms, allowing you to pull the white tank top over his head.

Your hands roamed over the expanse of his toned chest as he laughed against your lips and whispered, “You’re so easy, baby.”

Easy?

You pulled away from his mouth, shoving at his chest to push him off of you. He groaned, discontentedly, as you paced back and forth in the living room, feeling your blood boil.

“You can be such a fucking asshole sometimes,” you grumbled, resting your hands on your hips as you turned back to face him.

You tried to ignore how good he looked in that moment. His bare chest was rising and falling with heavy, angry breaths and his jeans hung dangerously low on his hips.

“C’mon,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I was joking.”

“This isn’t a fucking joke, James,” you bit back, walking closer to him. “This is your life at stake — our life at stake. You think you can just smooth talk your way out of anything, that you can just avoid it and it’ll go away, but it won’t always work that way.”

“Okay! Fine! I fucked up! I’m sorry!” James yelled, throwing his hands up in the air. “Can you just get over here ‘n let me fuck you so we can go back to normal?”

You laughed, dryly, narrowing your eyes at him.

“You think you can just look at me with those pretty little eyes and I’ll get on my knees for you?” You asked, cocking your head as you walked back over to him. “Is that how you think this is going to go?”

“I think that’s how this usually goes,” he smirked, arrogance dripping from his tone.

You wanted to wipe that smug look clean off of his face. He thought that he had you wrapped around his finger. He thought that you’d respond to his every beck and call. Normally, that was right — but, this time, things were going to happen a little differently.

“Well, I think that you need a little reminder that you don’t always get to be in control,” you said, trailing the tip of your fingers down his abdomen. You smirked, feeling the muscles ripple beneath your touch. “I think that you need a lesson in restraint.”

James chuckled, raising a mocking brow as he asked, “Oh yeah? What’re you gonna do, cuff me?”

You turned around, walking toward the bedroom and smiling to yourself as he mindlessly followed. You reached into one of the drawers in the bedside table and bit your lip as your fingers grazed cold metal.

You held up a pair of handcuffs, twirling them around as you gave him a challenging look. He stared at you, incredulously, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. Real funny, doll,” he grumbled, crossing his strong arms over his chest. “Now put ‘em away.”

You shook your head, and said, “Put your arms out in front of you.”

“You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me,” he huffed, rubbing a hand over his face. “This is cute ‘n all, baby, but we both know that you can’t put those to proper use.”

You quirked a brow and asked, “Is that a challenge?”

“It’s a fact, sweetheart,” he shrugged, a smug smile pulling at his lips. “If you want us to use ‘em, give ‘em here, but you’re not lockin’ those things around me.”

“Really? Because you seemed to be perfectly fine with the prospect of ending up in cuffs when you got involved in Frankie’s bullshit,” you said, matter-of-factly. “How about this — you either cooperate, or you can go sleep on the couch and we can continue this fight in the morning.”

James seethed, glaring at you, but he didn’t walk away. You smirked triumphantly and said, “Good. Now put your hands out.”

He hesitated, but eventually obliged with another roll of his eyes. You couldn’t wait to make his eyes roll in an entirely different way. Begrudgingly, he held his wrists out in front of him.

You clamped the metal cuffs around both wrists — not so tight that it would cause him pain, but tight enough to be a nuisance. You tugged on the chain that connected them, pulling him toward you. He stumbled forward with a huff, clenching his jaw in quiet anger.

“Once you’re begging all pretty for me, maybe then I’ll think about forgiving you,” you said, sweetly, rubbing your fingers through his hair.

His eyes narrowed at you as he growled, “I don’t fuckin’ beg.”

You smirked and said, “We’ll see about that.”

You pushed him back onto the bed, giggling as he flopped and grumbled to himself. You removed your shirt and jeans, watching his eyes darken as he stared at your half-naked form. You slowly crawled over him, grabbing his wrists and raising them above his head. You hooked the cuffs around a beam in your headboard, making sure he wouldn’t be able to move them.

You sat back, biting your lip as you admired him. His muscles were flexed and tense in this position and his eyes were swimming with a mixture of anger and lust.

You placed a hand on either side of his head, leaning down to gently brush your lips against his. When he raised his head to try and kiss you, you dodged him and kissed across his jaw instead.

He released an unhappy groan that turned into a shaky sigh as your lips began to move down his neck. You took your time, placing slow, open-mouthed kisses across his throat. You’d stop to linger on the places that made him shiver beneath you, nipping and sucking dark marks into his skin.

Your mouth made its way down his chest, following a trail down his stomach. James tensed, pulling against the restraints with a groan.

“So sensitive, baby,” you cooed, smirking at his pissed off expression.

His breathing was labored as you kissed his hips, your tongue grazing the skin just above the waistband of his boxers. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth as you unbuttoned his jeans, pulling them down his legs. You tossed them to the side, rubbing your hands up and down his thighs.

His erection was strained against the thin material of his briefs. You used your fingers to lightly trace the large outline, giggling at the way his hips squirmed. You pressed down gently against the area where a small wet spot had already begun forming before placing a kiss to the clothed member. James’ hips bucked up, chasing your lips as you sat back on your heels and watched him with amusement.

“C’mon, baby, don’t fuckin’ tease me,” he groaned, releasing a shaky breath.

“Aw, Jamie,” you pouted, mocking him. “I’m just getting started.”

You hooked your fingers under the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down his legs, watching his pulsing erection spring free. Licking your lips, you leaned down to kiss the top of one of his muscular thighs, then the other. You moved up to pepper kisses onto his hips, careful to avoid touching him where you knew he wanted you to.

James groaned, gritting his teeth as he complained, “I get it, okay? You’ve proven your point, baby. You’re in control — whatever. Just fuckin’ get on with it—oh, fuck.”

He gasped, cursing as your fist wrapped around his dick, slowly stroking it. You swiped your thumb over his tip, gathering the pre-cum that had started dripping down his shaft to aid your movements.

“Is this what you wanted, Jamie?” You asked, cocking your head as you watched him squirm. When he didn’t respond, you squeezed your fist, causing him to arch his back as his hips thrusted up into your touch. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” he breathed, glaring up at you with indignation. “This is what I want.”

You moved your fist faster, earning a strained moan from him. You used your other hand to cup his balls, gently massaging them.

“Fuck, yeah, keep doin’ that,” he groaned, humming in appreciation.

“Yeah? You like that?” You asked, grinning as he nodded furiously. “What about this?”

You leaned down and placed a teasing kiss to the tip of his dick, slowly swirling your tongue around it as you continued to stroke him.

“Shit,” he moaned, pulling against the hold of the handcuffs. “Yeah. Fuck, I like that.”

You continued to tease him, sucking the tip into your mouth just to pull back off again. He groaned, thrusting his hips in an attempt to push himself further past your lips.

“Baby, just let me feel your mouth,” he protested, panting as he pouted at you. “Take it all, baby, don’t make me wait. You can take it all, I know you can.”

“What’s the magic word, Jamie?” You taunted, continuing your languid strokes. “You gotta ask nicely.”

James clenched his jaw, gritting his teeth as he ground out, “Please.”

“Please, what?” You asked, batting your lashes innocently.

“Please, suck my dick,” he huffed, glaring at you. “There. Is that what you want me to say?”

“It’s a good start,” you smirked, lowering your head to take him into your mouth.

“Fuck,” James moaned, watching as he disappeared between your lips. “Just like that, baby. God, those pretty lips always feel so fuckin’ good wrapped around me.”

You hummed at the praise, causing his hips to twitch. You took him as far as you could, using your hand to work what couldn’t fit. Your tongue traced the underside of his shaft, swirling around the tip each time you’d come up.

James’ back arched as he panted, strings of lewd moans falling from his lips. You could feel him getting closer. His hips began to stutter and his breathing grew rough and ragged. You took him as far down your throat as you could manage, swallowing around him.

“Ah, shit,” he cried out, throwing his head back against the pillows. “I’m so close, baby. I’m almost there, just keep goin’.”

You pulled off of him with a smirk, watching as his hips desperately rutted into the air. He groaned, pulling against the restraints in frustration.

“I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson just yet,” you tutted, moving back to stand at the foot of the bed.

His words of protest stopped in his throat the moment you unclasped your bra, letting it fall to the floor. His mouth hung open as he took in the sight of you, dick twitching as your fingers traced along your chest. When you moved your hands down to the waistband of your underwear, pushing them down with a wiggle of your hips, he let out a strangled groan as he desperately tried to reach out to you.

“You’ve had your fun, okay?” James choked out, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. “Stop torturing me.”

You crawled back over him, straddling his chest. He licked his lips as he ogled at the delicious view you were granting him.

“Actually,” you started, a mischievous glint in your eyes, “I haven’t even started having my fun yet.”

You slowly rubbed your hands up and down your thighs in a teasing motion. You let one hand move up toward your chest while the other drifted down between your legs. James’ eyes widened and his breathing grew faster as the realization of what you were doing set in.

“No,” he breathed, his eyebrows pinching together in desperation. “No, baby, c’mon. Don’t do this to me.”

“Mm, but I need to be touched so badly, Jamie,” you taunted, trailing your fingers further up the inside of your thigh. “Such a shame you can’t help me out.”

He pulled against the cuffs again, panting as he said, “Let me out of these ‘n I can help you. You know it feels so much better when I do it, baby. Just let me out. Let me touch you.”

“You aren’t getting out that easily,” you said, shaking your head.

He groaned in exasperation, still struggling in the hold of the restraints. You brought your fingers down to circle your clit, sighing in pleasure. His eyebrows scrunched together as he let out a noise that resembled a whine. You knew that it drove him insane — watching you get pleasure from anything that wasn’t him. You wanted him to break, you wanted him to cave in to the desperation. His noises of protest grew louder as you pushed two fingers inside yourself, curling them with an exaggerated moan.

“Stop,” he panted, eyes wide with urgency. “You don’t have to let me go, just…let me help you. You can still be in control, baby, just use my mouth. It’ll feel so much better, promise.”

You quirked a brow, leaning over him as you asked, “You wanna taste me, Jamie?”

He nodded his head frantically, licking his lips at the mere prospect of getting his mouth on you. His breaths were shaky and unstable as he peered up at you with pleading eyes.

“C’mere,” he panted. “Let me show you how sorry I am.”

You moved further up the bed, your knees resting on either side of his head. You hovered above his face, practically dripping onto him.

James wasted no time, lifting his head up and latching his mouth onto you. You let out a shaky breath, gripping the headboard to keep yourself stable. His stubble was rough against the skin of your thighs. His tongue licked a stripe from slit to clit, swirling around the sensitive bundle before gently sucking it into his mouth. He lapped at you like a starved man, his groans sending vibrations through your core.

His eyes stayed locked onto you, watching every reaction. He didn’t want to blink, he barely took breaks to breathe. If he was suffocated between your legs, it would be a happy way to go.

“Mm, so good, Jamie,” you breathed, running your fingers through his hair and pushing it out of his eyes. “It’s so much better when your mouth is put to good use instead of talkin’ a bunch of shit.”

A wicked glint shone in his eyes as he nipped at your clit with his teeth. You yelped, tightening your grip in his hair as you tilted your head.

“Careful, Jamie,” you warned. “I could still leave you locked up like this and not give you anything at all.”

He flattened his tongue, soothing the swollen bud before returning to his eager ministrations. He knew your body as well as you did, knowing exactly what to do to bring you to the precipice of pleasure.

You felt that coil in the pit of your stomach tighten, threatening to snap as he effortlessly brought you to the edge.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come, Jamie,” you moaned, moving your hips in time with his actions. “Is that what you want? Want me to come all over your pretty fuckin’ face?”

“Mhm,” he hummed against you, eyes darkening as he waited in anticipation for you to come undone.

The sensation of his mouth combined with the vibrations of his voice were all you needed to fall apart. The searing pleasure coursed through your veins as you rode out your release, James eagerly lapping up every drop of it.

Catching your breath, you moved back down his body. You nearly came again at the sight of him. His lips were red and swollen, glistening with the remnants of your desire. He licked them, greedily, staring at you with a predatory glint in his eyes.

His hips writhed on the bed, pre-cum pooled at the base of his dick. You leaned down, licking it off of him. James gasped at the contact. He was desperate for any touch from you.

You sat back on his hips, slowly beginning to grind against the length of him. A strangled groan sounded from his lips as he yanked on the handcuffs. He could feel the wet heat between your legs, torturously close to giving him what he craved.

“Let me be inside you, doll,” he panted, bucking his hips up into you. “I’ll make you feel so good. I’ll fill you up just how you like it.”

You could tell he was close to breaking, his need getting the better of him. You couldn’t fight the pulsing desire either, wanting to feel him stretching you out in the way that only he could.

You raised up on your knees, lining him up with your entrance before sinking down onto him until your hips sat flesh against his.

You gasped, softly, as he cried out, “Fuck!”

He looked at you, biting his lip until it drew blood as he waited impatiently for you to move. His chest was heaving with strangled breaths, every muscle in his body tense with need.

“You gotta move, baby,” he said, breathlessly. “Do something, anything.”

You smiled sweetly at him, batting your lashes as you asked, “You want me to fuck you, Jamie?”

“Yes,” he breathed. “I want you to fuck me, baby.”

“Beg,” you told him, dropping the innocent smile. “Beg me to fuck you.”

His jaw clenched, his resolve wearing thin, as he growled, “I don’t fuckin’ beg.”

You raised your brow in a challenge, lifting your hips up so that just his tip remained inside of you before sinking back down onto him and stopping again.

His eyes rolled back as he tugged again on the restraints. His breaths were shaky, coming out in noises that dangerously resembled whimpers. He swallowed hard, squeezing his eyes shut before finally giving in.

“Please, baby, fuck me,” he begged, his voice raw with desperation. “I need to feel you. I can’t take it anymore. I promise, I’ll do anything you want. I’ll be good, okay? I’ll be so good, just please fuck me.”

“That’s it, Jamie,” you cooed, finally moving your hips as you began to ride him. He cried out your name, his voice breaking as you gave him what he so desperately needed. “See what happens when you follow the rules? You get rewarded with the things you want.”

His head fell back against the pillows, his hips thrusting up to meet yours as he moaned. His eyebrows pinched together in pleasure as he watched his dick disappearing between your legs.

“Fuck me, baby,” he groaned, using all of his remaining strength to fuck up into you. “You feel so fuckin’ good. Always so tight ‘n wet for me, aren’t you, angel?”

“Just for you, Jamie,” you breathed, nails digging into the skin of his hips as each thrust brought you closer to that wave of ecstasy. “Always for you.”

You knew he wouldn’t last long, having been too worked up. You clenched around him, nearing the edge as well as he whimpered with the strain of holding back.

“Please, don’t stop,” be begged, eyes shiny with the need to get his release. “Gonna let me come inside you, right? Not gonna stop this time?”

“I’m not gonna stop,” you reassured him. “You can let go, Jamie.”

With your permission, he let the waves of pleasure overtake him. His hips bucked wildly as he came with a cry of your name. You were soon to follow, squeezing around him as the both of you fell over the edge together.

Your legs nearly gave out as you rode through your mutual high. Coming down, you braced your hands on his chest to stabilize yourself. You both caught your breath, James’ head lulling against the pillows with a satiated smile.

You leaned over to grab the key off of the bedside table and undid the handcuffs, gently grabbing his arms and lowering them back down. You placed tender kisses against the raw skin of his wrists, the budding anger you’d felt dissipating.

James sat up and wrapped his arms around you, pressing his lips against yours, sweetly. He pulled back for a moment, looking at you, before kissing your forehead, then your nose, then each cheek, then your lips again.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered, bringing one hand up to gently cup your face. “I shoulda known better. I just wanted to help him.”

“I know you did, Jamie,” you said, softly, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I just worry about you. I don’t want you getting hurt again because of him.”

“I know,” he nodded, smiling at you. “You’ve always been so good to me. I’m not gonna worry you anymore, okay? I promise. I wanna do things right with you. I want our life to be a clean slate.”

You sighed, gratefully, touching your forehead to his as you relaxed in his arms. You could never stay mad at him for very long. You wouldn’t want to.

“I mean…not everything has to be clean,” you grinned, playfully. “It’s okay to play a little dirty sometimes.”

James chuckled, kissing you again as he rolled you over so that he was lying on top of you. One hand trailed down to your hip while the other one remained holding your face.

“My pretty baby,” he cooed, kissing down your neck. “Such a dirty girl.”

He grabbed the handcuffs, raising your hands above your head with a devious smirk as he whispered, “Your turn.”

You knew you were both in for a very long night.

#smut #fanfiction #hayden christensen smut #smutrequests #james kelly smut #james kelly #american heist #one shot #imagine #james kelly x reader

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buckysgrace · 6 months ago

Note

Hi. You’re amazing!

Do you ever write fluff? Like if you found out you were pregnant with Billy’s baby and at first he’s upset and doesn’t want anything to do with you but after you have the baby ( a little boy with blonde curls like Billy) he gets all emotional and wants to desperately be a better father than his dad was to him 😭

Hello! Thank you so much <3 I absolutely will write fluff!

CW: Mentions of abortion, mentions of child abuse, lots of Billy being scared and a lil mean.

Billy's son is also referenced as having blonde curls and his nose, but the rest is ambiguous!

He was scared.

Billy honestly didn't know what he was going to do. There had been many arguments with you about it, but you seemed fairly determined. You were going to have this baby, whether he wanted to be a part of the baby's life or not.

It wasn't necessarily that he didn't want to be involved, but he could feel a crushing fear spreading through him every time he thought about being a dad.

His relationship with his own dad was strained. Things weren’t the best between them. He never really had a positive father figure, someone that showed him how to stay calm even when he was frustrated. The last thing he wanted was to end up snapping at his own child.

He couldn’t be a dad.

“Not mine,” He said once you showed up with the ultrasound, the bloodwork and everything. Denial was all he could think about, all he could process. He couldn’t fuck up your life and this child’s life if he wasn’t involved. It was that simple, “I didn’t knock you up.”

“Uh huh,” Was your dry answer, your eyes looking less than amused, “Do you want a paternity test then, William?” Came your snarky response, because you both knew the truth. This baby was his, there was no doubt in Billy’s mind about that. And it terrified him.

“Don’t call me that.” He said as he pushed his hair off of his forehead, feeling sick as it continued to wash over him. He was going to be a dad. He was going to end up just like Neil.

“Then don’t act like you weren’t a part of this.” You said, looking just as fearful as what he felt. He sat down on the edge of his bed, tapping his foot rapidly as he thought about how good a smoke sounded right now. He’d need a lot more to make him relax.

“It’s still early, right?” He questioned at last, turning his attention back to you. He watched the way your eyebrows furrowed tightly together and then relaxed again. Your eyes softened, telling him what he already knew.

“I’m not getting an abortion,” You said at last, “I’ve made up my mind. You can make your decision, but I’m not letting you walk in and out of our lives whenever you see fit. You can be a part of this baby's life or we can end this. Whatever you prefer.” You were gentle with him, setting out the options softly like you always did. You understood him better than anyone else, made him feel safe. It made him sick to think about how he was hurting the one person he really cared about.

“Can I think about it?” He asked at last, feeling like there wasn’t anything else to do. He didn’t have an answer yet and he didn’t want to end up saying the wrong thing. He was growing angry at himself. He could only imagine what Neil would say once he found out.

“Yeah,” You replied gently, eyes softening as you nodded your head, “But I can’t wait forever. I need to know your answer soon.” Your voice slightly wavered but he looked away, not wanting to see you so upset.

“Yeah,” He responded as he nodded his head and placed his fingers tightly together, “I’ll let you know.” He said at last, staying put until you left. Everything was falling apart, breaking down around him. He couldn’t deal with it right now.

Ignoring you was harder than he’d thought it would be. He looked for you everywhere he went, even though he knew he couldn’t have you. That was his own fault regardless. He’d made up his mind. It would be easier this way.

Yet, when the invitation for your baby shower arrived in his mail he felt his walls caving in. They crashed into him, making him break down as he stared at your handwritten notes on the card. He could tell just by reading it that you were excited, not afraid. He wished he could be more like you.

In the end, he decided to go. He needed closure, as he was sure you needed to. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to stand living in the same town as you, knowing that his child would never know him. Somehow, that made him feel even worse.

He felt lonely as the months drew on. He had no one to confide in for his problems; especially Neil and Susan. He didn’t know what to say when they questioned about your disappearance and he felt even more at a loss when they asked him if you were pregnant. A shrug of his shoulders was his answer. He really didn’t know.

The walk up towards the little gymnasium felt odd, like he didn’t quite belong as he stared at the little balloons and elephant decorations that were spotted throughout the room. There were familiar faces; your friends and family. Some other people that weren’t quite as well known. He still felt awkward, like everyone knew that he was the one who had knocked you up and ran.

“Hey,” You drew out as you approached him, your palm flat against the bump in front of you, “I didn’t think you’d be here.” You said slowly, literally glowing as you stood in front of him. You had a sundress on, your cheeks were warm and forehead a little sweaty. He wondered if it was from the baby.

“I didn’t think I’d come either.” He admitted at last, hating how horrible that sounded. He just felt like he was in a rut, buried deep inside of a hole with no real way of coming out. You were like sunshine through the dirt, warming his skin as he watched you.

“What does this mean?” You asked him at last, tilting your head as your eyes softened over his features. He wished that he had a real answer for you, to tell you how he felt. He was in love with you; deeply. He just didn’t want to hurt you either. It was complicated.

“I really don’t know yet,” He mumbled, “It just felt right.” He decided on, unable to tell you just how much he missed you. He was nearly desperate enough to fall to his knees and beg for your forgiveness. He would if you pushed him hard enough.

“Billy,” You drew out in exasperation, “I can’t have you doing this, being so wishy-washy. What do you want?” You asked him seriously, looking like you were close to cracking too. He wanted to reach out and touch you, to hold you. He needed to apologize.

“I just want to be better,” He replied slowly, “I want to be here. For you and for-,” He stalled for a moment as he looked down at your baby bump, feeling like he was at a loss once again. He wasn’t sure if you wanted him in his life or not.

“Him,” You said quickly, “We’re having a little boy.” Your eyes were glazed over in tears, your lips pulling into the tightest smile. You were clearly emotional, making him feel awful as he reached his hand forward. Your fingers met slowly, molding against one another. He felt sparks traveling up his arms, leaving him resentful of the past few months he’d wasted.

“That’s-, that’s good,” He answered after he cleared his throat. He was already scared to be a dad, but to have a son? He feared that even more. He was sure he was following directly into Neil’s shows, “Have you decided on a name?”

“I kind of like Cash,” You stated as you rubbed at your belly, “Just feels right. C’mon, you can open the presents with me.” You explained as you tugged him along, leaving him a little jittery. He thought about pulling out a cigarette, but figured it wasn’t the right place to do it.

He felt a little lost but slowly grew more and more keen on what was happening. It was still a lot to process, but it felt right being there by your side. You were clearly excited despite everything that had happened. He was grateful that you were so open, that you didn’t hold a grudge against him.

“Where are you living at?” He asked instead, curious as to whether your living situation had changed or not. You were still living at home the last time he checked. He was slightly nervous, wondering if someone else had slipped into his spot.

“Still with my parents,” You admitted as you shrugged your shoulders, “They were upset, but they’ve come around.” Your lips were pulled into a smile, looking less than worried. Apparently things had been fairly well for you.

“They probably hate me.” He said a moment later, sure that it was true. He couldn’t see how they wouldn’t. He had practically left you. You snapped your eyes up towards him.

“Hate is a strong word,” You told him quickly, “But yeah, they’re not the happiest. Especially dad.” You explained slowly as you continued to rub at your baby bump.

“Great,” He mumbled as he placed his hands in his pockets, “I’m really sorry.” He breathed out slowly, knowing his apology was more important than everything else. He meant it too. He shouldn’t have pushed you away.

“You just disappeared,” You started slowly, “I thought you were gone.” Your voice was soft, full of hurt and distress. He felt his throat tightening, burning as he thought about how much he missed you. He was a fool to ever stray away from you, to leave you on your own.

“I thought about it,” He told you honestly, knowing there was no point in lying, “I don’t want to be like my dad.” He replied at last, getting down to the root of the issue. He didn’t want to accidentally lash out at you or at your future child. He never wanted that for him. It would be better to be alone.

“You won’t,” You told him quickly, sternly as he exhaled deeply, “You’re not like your dad. I promise you.” You cupped his face softly, your hands smooth and gentle against his skin. He leaned against you, craving the feeling.

“What if I lose control?” He asked at last as he drew his eyes over your features, taking in the way you were watching him. You sighed deeply as you rubbed your fingers across his skin. You looked deep in thought as you pressed your nails gently against his stubble.

“You never did that at your swimming classes,” You reminded him, “You should come stay with me. Move in. It would be good for our baby.” You moved your hands to his neck, then to his shoulder and down to his hands. You gripped them slowly, pressing them against your growing tummy.

He stalled for the longest time, blinking slowly as he felt like the world was freezing around him. Underneath your skin he could feel your baby moving. He gulped, eyes wide as he felt the smallest smile curling against his lips. He exhaled deeply as he looked towards you again.

“I don’t know.” He replied nervously as he felt his heart hammering roughly inside of his chest. He chewed on his bottom lip, thinking that it would be easier. He’d be closer for you, for the baby. If he was really going to do this, he needed to be near you.

“You don’t have to marry me or anything,” You started, “Or be with me if that’s what you want.” You said sheepishly, looking embarrassed as you quickly looked away. He felt his heart shatter a bit again, worried that he had truly hurt you.

“You have someone else?” He asked at last, worried that you had moved on. He had done wrong, but he really did love you. You were the only one he was passionate about. He wasn’t sure how to move on if you had found someone else.

“No,” You responded with a smile, “But I just want you to be happy. Even if it’s not with us.” You nodded your head, but looked like that was hard to admit. He didn’t want you to be alone. Not anymore.

“You make me happy,” He said at last, “We’ll work this out. I promise.” He said as he brought your hand up to his lips, savoring the feeling of your skin against his mouth. He closed his eyes, feeling very regretful. He wouldn’t lose you again.

When he returned home he felt odd, but not like he had in the past few months. He didn’t drink away his feelings, or drown his anger out with music. Instead, he worked on packing. He wasn’t going to be like Neil; not at all. He was going to be there for you. He was going to be there for his son. No matter how scared he was. He couldn’t let either of you down.

“Where are you going?” Neil’s voice made him jump, surprising him as he paused with the article of clothing in his hands. He turned slowly, looking at the way Neil was leaning against the door frame. He had his hands crossed tightly over his chest, his eyebrows furrowed together tightly. His features were stoic, like he was deciding whether he should be angry or not.

“I’m moving out,” He said as he turned away, shoving the clothes back into his bag, “I uh, found a place.” Billy replied slowly as he finished zipping up his bag. He wondered how much he’d really be able to take with him. Probably not much if his dad got angry.

“You moving in with that bitch?” Neil tilted his head up as he spoke, like he was trying to make himself taller. His eyes were sharp, cold as his gaze cut into Billy. He felt sick as he gulped harshly, trying to keep his tone at bay.

“Don’t call her that.” Billy responded hotly, feeling defensive of you. You weren’t anything like that and you were letting him back into your life; just like that. You were everything and more to him and he wasn’t going to let Neil speak ill of you.

“Is the kid yours or some little bastard?” His lip curled up in disgust as he spoke, his features filling with disappointment. Billy didn’t care. He was going to be happy with you. He wouldn’t be like Neil. Not ever.

“Mine,” He said roughly, “And don’t you ever call him that.” He snatched up his bag, taking his few items with him as he moved forward. Neil scoffed as he shook his head, irritated as Billy pushed forward.

“She’s going to ruin your life,” He grumbled as he gripped Billy’s shoulder, holding him in place for a moment, “And don’t even think about crawling back. I won’t have you.” He said threateningly, like he might change Billy’s mind.

“I won’t come back.” Billy promised, stern with his answer as he walked past him. He wouldn’t let his son suffer the same way he had. They both deserved better than this.

The rest of the months passed breezily, making him come to terms a little easier as your due date approached. He had done a lot of ass kissing, pleading and groveling until he got back on your good side. He brought you flowers every day, rubbed your feet after work and gave you plenty of kisses.

You complained about how you looked as the final weeks approached, but he thought that you looked beautiful. Stunning. In his opinion, you were glowing. He loved rubbing your tummy too, feeling like he got a deeper connection that way.

Your labor was messy, a little chaotic. Billy was terrified something would go wrong, but stayed close to you regardless. By the end of it, his hand was numb and his wrist aching from how tightly he’d been gripping you.

“Look at him,” You breathed out as you held the little boy in your arms, “He’s so cute.” You sniffled, looking like you were seconds away from breaking down again.

He stared and stared, memorizing his son's features as he came to terms that he was a father. He had a little boy, someone to take care of. He looked so fragile, so tiny. It made him nervous. He was fearful that he’d accidentally hurt him by holding him wrong, or by dropping him. He wasn’t sure how his rough hands were supposed to hold something so soft.

"Billy," You breathed out quietly, making his throat grow raw as he stared down at the little boy. Soft blonde curls and the same sloped nose he had. Everything else about the little boy reminded him of you, "Are you crying?" You asked gently, making him feel even more emotional as he shook his head.

“No,” He said hoarsely, doing everything in his power to keep from breaking down, “S’just a lot.” He mumbled as he wiped at his eyes, inhaling deeply through his nose as he tried to calm himself down. His hands were shaking, his heart thumping roughly inside of his chest.

“I know,” You replied softly as you sat up a bit, gesturing the bundle in your arms towards him, “C’mon. You’ll feel better.” You reassured him, but he still felt hesitant. He pressed his fingertips together before he nodded, accepting the little baby from you.

Names hadn’t quite been figured out yet, but that didn’t matter at the moment. He looked healthy, his cheeks full and fists clenched together as he stretched his arms out. Billy felt a small chuckle leave his neck, fighting over the sob that was threatening to burst free.

He suddenly couldn’t remember why he had been so nervous, or scared. As his son curled against his arms it felt natural, like he already knew what he was doing. He savored the warmth, the way the little baby cooed as he adjusted him in his arms. Everything felt right suddenly.

“I won’t let anything bad ever happen to you,” He promised as he kissed his little head, sighing deeply as he snuggled his little son towards him, “Not ever. I promise.”

#Billy Hargrove #Billy Hargrove fic #Billy Hargrove x reader #Billy Hargrove x yn #Billy Hargrove x you #Billy Hargrove is a good dad #Dad!Billy Hargrove #Billy Hargrove request #Billy Hargrove angst #Billy Hargrove fluff

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angelwings-crossbowstrings · 8 months ago

Text

But Put Together, the Cracks We’ll Close In

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Early Alexandria

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; mentions of past child abuse; mentions of suggested abortion; blood and injury

Summary: Fresh into Alexandria, Daryl meets his match in a two year little girl and slowly loses his heart to her mother. You.

A/N: Based on the request/headcanon from @louifaith Just a couple of things. The child is described as in hair and eye color. Nothing is mentioned of reader so these traits could come from her father. There is also the mention of an “Eskimo kiss.” I grew up hearing and using that term but I’m not sure if it is offensive or PC nowadays. please feel free to send me a message if I need to change it. It is not my intention to be offensive to anyone! Also, sorry if anyone likes Spencer. He's always my go to asshole. I received my answer on the above questioned term. I will definitely not be using it again! It has been edited out. *gif is not mine

“S’that?”

Daryl felt the opossum sway in his grip, looking down with a scowl firmly plastered at the bright eyes returning his gaze, brimming with curiosity. She was a toddler, maybe two years old? Christ, someone had a toddler in this mess. “Dinner.” He grunted, pulling the dead animal out of her reach. He found out quickly that the curious little creature would not be deterred so easily. Standing on her tip-toes, she made a grab for the marsupial. “Knock it off.” He huffed and took a step back, bumping into Carol.

“Daryl, she’s a child. Don’t be such a grump.”

“Ain’t you got a mama—family to get back to?” He snapped, ignoring his best friend. The little girl’s eyes brightened.

“Mama! Mama!” She clapped. Daryl rolled his eyes at her enthusiasm.

“Yeah, go get ‘er.” There was an intense sigh of relief when the little human went running (waddling?) out of sight. “They got kids here.”

“Yes, Daryl. That’s what that was.” Carol nudged him playfully. “The people seem to think they’re safe here. It gives me the creeps.” He nodded but didn’t comment. “They obviously don’t know what’s going on out there, not like we do. I think we need to be cautious here. Find a way to fit in but keep our guard up, you know?”

Daryl snorted. “Yeah, good luck with that. Ain’t got no intention of tryin’ to fit in with these folks. Livin’ in a fuckin’ fairytale here. Ain’t gonna last.”

“You’re such a ray of sunshine.” Sasha clapped him on the shoulder as she passed, earning yet another grunt.

“Mama, here!”

Oh dear god, no. “S’back.” The hunter stated flatly.

“Oh, and she brought a friend.” Sure enough, the little girl was dragging you along, tugging incessantly at your hand as if the child had found the world’s most priceless treasure. “You did tell her to ‘go get her.’”

“Nadia, slow down!”

And slow down, she did. Right in front of a scowl-wearing redneck with a bleeding opossum in his grasp.

“Mama, dinner! Dorl dinner.”

Dorl?!? Daryl looked helplessly over to where Carl was carrying Judith, the little light of his life. Would this be what she was like as she grew up? She already knew him, loved him despite how broken and hopeless he was. She would laugh at him if he was ranting about something and hold out those chubby little hands and he was done for, whatever had irritated him was forgotten.

But this child? This wasn’t his lil’ asskicker.

Daryl liked kids but he liked them from a distance. He had no business being around them, save for Carl and Judith. I wish I could have known Sophia. He wouldn’t bother getting to know anyone in this place. It’d burn like every other home they had anyway.

“Dorl, huh?” You smiled.

“Daryl.” He replied flatly, his lip curling.

“I’m Y/N. I assume Aaron found your group?”

He didn’t answer, too occupied with trying to continuously move away from the small child clumsily reaching for his knife sheath. “Stop that.” He barked, expecting the kid to balk. She did quite the opposite and wrapped her tiny arms around his leg, just below his knee. What the fuck was he supposed to do now? Shake her off? Of course not. She might get hurt. While he really didn’t want to be touched, he couldn’t help but feel like it was somehow his job to make sure this kid wasn’t hurt. “Can ya—would ya—?” Shoulders slumped, he didn’t even gesture. You know what he was asking.

Chuckling, you reached down and gently pried the little girl loose. “Nadia, you’re supposed to ask before hugs, remember?”

“Hug Dorl.” The dark-headed child pouted.

That was his cue to step away, as quickly as possible, without running. He absolutely did not run.

When you looked up, he was already gone, lost in the middle of his group as they headed in to surrender weapons and be interviewed by Deanna.

Daryl sat on the now red-stained porch, prepping his kill for cooking later. Carol had scolded him and made him promise to use the backyard going forward, but he doubted they would be there long enough for him to need the area. It was just the way the world was. Nice places like this could never last.

“Dorl dinner!”

Jesus take the wheel. “Ya need a bell.” He grunted, looking around for you. “An’ apparently a leash.” Maybe if he ignored her, she would go find you. But what if she wandered off alone and somehow made it out of the gates? Shit. “Sit down, gremlin.”

She giggled and patted her chunky hands against her chest. “Nada.”

Daryl stopped moving and stared for a moment. Wasn’t that Spanish? Maybe? Wait. You had called her Nadia. Maybe that’s what she was trying to say. “Nadia?” Blue eyes squinted in wait.

Nadia bounced and nodded and then pointed at him. “Dorl! Dorl, Nada!”

He released his knife and leaned his elbow against his knee, the heel of his hand pressing into his forehead. “Dare-ul.” He tried.

“Dooorl.”

“Oh, for fucksake.” The archer gave up, picking up his knife and continuing with his task. Nadia didn’t even seem to notice what he was doing but leaned in closely with the most serious look he’d ever seen. He needed to lean back once she made it much too far into his personal space.

“Fucksy.” She said, maintaining eye contact as if she were challenging him.

“No! Don’t say that. Can’t be teachin’ ya sh—stuff like that!” He panicked, opossum forgotten. Daryl threw back his head with a groan. “Can’tcha please just go to your mama?”

Nadia’s little face lit up and off she went with a chorus of mama mama mama. Watching her go, Daryl wondered where the little one’s father was, but soon banished the thought. It was none of his business. What was his business was to make sure the annoying curtain-climber made it home safely. Abandoning his dinner—no time to cover it if he was going to catch up—he walked briskly until he caught sight of her. Little legs can fuckin’ move. We’re fucked when Jude learns to walk.

He stayed close, but far back enough to not catch her attention. She seemed to know exactly where she was going. Rounding the curb to the end of the street, he caught sight of the small house. Quaint compared to the other homes. The front door was open but he dared not go closer. Boots firmly planted on the sidewalk, he observed the struggle of a tiny human tackling front porch steps. Nadia was determined though. Had he chosen to help, he was certain she would give him that serious look again and yell at him in baby-speak.

“Nadia Avery, how do you keep getting out the door!”

Maybe cause you leave it open? He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.

Regardless, there you were, swooping down to gather the bundle into your arms with a couple of sobs and more than a few sniffles. “Baby, you have to stop doing that! You scare mommy.” Nadia was nuzzling your jaw but then suddenly pointed right at him.

“Dorl got Nada.”

When your eyes found his own, Daryl froze. His arms were out to his sides, his eyes wide. He looked nothing short of a deer caught in the sights of his crossbow when it realized it’s about to be shot. “I—uh, kid found me.” Forcing himself to relax a fraction, he rubbed at the back of his neck. “Didn’t want ‘er wand’rin’ ‘round by herself.”

Your face softened into a grateful smile. “Thank you for making sure she got home.” He nodded curtly and you turned away, only to turn back in the same motion. “Would you like to come inside? I have some stew that I’m heating. Plenty for the three of us.”

A part of him that he didn’t know existed wanted to immediately accept the offer but the part of him that had kept him alive this long spoke louder. “Nah, got my own dinner I need to take care’a. Thanks, though.”

You nodded, the smile never faltering. “Think of it as a standing invitation. Nadia seems to like you. She’s a good judge of character.”

He snorted. “Alright.”

“Goodnight, Daryl.”

“Night.” He took two steps.

“Nigh’ nigh’, Dorl!”

He heard the sound of a kiss being blown his way, but didn’t turn around. Maybe if he ignored her, she’d go away.

It had been three days since he had last seen you or Nadia. He found that it unsettled him but not enough to go looking. Aaron had gifted him a work area and parts to build himself a bike. It was the best thing anyone could have offered him at that point. He felt like he still wasn’t fitting in, and while that was the idea at first, now it just felt…lonely.

Carol was always gone when he got up and not home yet when we retired to bed. Rick and Michonne couldn’t stay out of the bedroom for more than five minutes unless something ‘coppy’ needed to be handled. Carl was always outside with Jude in the nice weather.

Daryl was alone. Though he usually preferred it that way, he couldn’t seem to shake the negativity it seemed to bring to the surface.

Spending time around something familiar from the old world came to be a comfort. When the posh little community with its “good morning” while walking the dog and laughter over coffee at the gazebo became too much for Daryl, he disappeared into Aaron’s garage. Aaron and his husband seemed okay in the archer’s book. They never once stared at him like he was going to rob them blind or beat them to a pulp. They showed him kindness even if his only attempts at conversation consisted of nods and grunts.

“You going to this party tonight?” Aaron asked from the doorway the led into the house from the garage.

“Nah.” Daryl picked up a wrench and continued his work, not giving the question a proper thought.

“You really should make an effort to get to know more people here.”

“They don’t like me. Shouldn’t, really.” The archer shrugged.

“They just don’t know you. Maybe you should give them a chance.” Aaron kept his persuasion in the doorway. He had gifted Daryl that space and was unwilling to step into it without an invitation he was unlikely to receive without asking.

“Better they don’t know me.”

There was a sigh that made Daryl curl his lip. “Just think about it, okay?” The shuffle of feet and the door opening signaled the other man’s exit.

Why should Daryl go? He had little interest in fitting in, even when his own group was making such an effort. Carol and Rick were wary and had whatever it was they had but Carol would tell him if she felt it necessary. Daryl was just plain wary, utterly uninterested. Most of them would likely be dead soon and he didn’t need anyone else to mourn.

So why he found himself showered and in a fresh set of clothing that was his own form of presentable was absolutely beyond him. It had nothing to do with the fact that on his walk home, he thought maybe you’d be at the party. Nope, nothing like that.

He had made it at least to the yard outside, watching the festivities through the window. Everyone he knew seemed so at ease in there. Dressed up, laughing and drinking. Mingling like they belonged there. He didn’t belong there.

“Nah.” He said softly before turning away. He was passing by Aaron’s house when a call of his name from that familiar voice had him stopping with a sigh. “Yeah?”

“You went. Good for you. Did you have a good time?” Aaron asked from the porch. Daryl shrugged. The man’s eyes narrowed and suddenly the archer was nervous, feeling judged. “You didn’t go in, did you?”

Daryl shook his head. “Just ain’t my thing.”

“Hey, you tried.”

“Why didn’t you go?” That wasn’t supposed to sound so accusatory but Daryl was tired and had simply had his fill of the day and that place.

“Eric’s ankle is still giving him trouble. We just thought it best to skip out on this one.”

This one? Christ. That insinuated there would be more. With an inward groan, he answered outwardly with a grunt.

“We’ve got dinner ready. More than can feed us. Can we tempt you?” The offer was sincere and Daryl was hungry, but his battery was running on fumes. He glanced toward his own home and then back at Aaron. “Eric makes a mean spaghetti, man. Come on, you’re already out.”

Daryl sighed. “Fine.” He was grateful for the invitation, he just sucked at showing it, as with almost every other emotion. Aaron held open the door and with a nod, the archer entered, still ill at ease being inside someone else’s home when his own still felt less than comfortable.

“Dorl.”

Before he could prepare himself, Nadia was latching onto his lower legs. Arms out awkwardly, he glared at Aaron. “Didn’t say she was here.”

The man just shrugged a shoulder. “Didn’t say she wasn’t either.”

“Hi, Daryl!” You came around the corner from the dining room, no doubt to gather your spawn but he couldn’t seem to form a thought around the smile you were giving him.

“Mama! Dorl!”

“I can see that, baby. You think you can let go so that he can walk?” Nadia shook her head with a vicious pout.

“Dorl up?”

“What?” He looked down at the toddler and back up at you, silently hoping you’d act as translator for the little gremlin.

“She wants you to pick her up. You don’t—”

For reasons unbeknownst to even him, he bent down and placed his hands beneath Nadia’s arms, lifting her onto his hip. It felt no different than holding Judith. Nadia was heavier of course.

“Dorl!” Chubby arms wrapped around his neck, her little cheek rubbing against his stubbled one. “Tickle.” She giggled like it was the funniest thing in the world and repeated the action.

You were still smiling but much more softly. “She really likes you.” Daryl grunted. “You don’t say much, do you?”

“Ain’t gotta lot to say.” He shrugged the shoulder Nadia’s chin was resting on, sending her into another fit of giggles. She pulled back suddenly, very in his space and then pressed her face against his cheek. He flinched but otherwise didn’t move. There was the smallest flutter that tickled his skin before she reared back again, smiling proudly. “What—”

“Butterfly kisses.” You informed, arms crossed but your smile hidden behind your hand.

“What the fu—heck’s that?”

“Oh come on, you never gave your mom butterfly kisses?” You chuckled.

Daryl felt nauseous at the mention of his mother. The only thing he’d shared with her were bruises and a few after-beating hugs. But you didn’t know him. He took the anger and locked it down, but it must have spilled into his expression.

“I’m sorry.” Your smile was gone, but to his surprise (and relief), there was no pity in your eyes. Only understanding. Still, it wasn’t a subject he cared to let linger.

He turned his attention to the child, who had developed a sudden interest in the hair over his ears. “Ya ever gave a nose kiss?” He almost laughed out loud when Nadia’s eyes flew wide with wonder. She didn’t confirm or deny but the fact that she hadn’t moved was answer enough. “S’simple.” Daryl brought a hand up to the back of her head and gently urged her forward, rubbing the tip of his nose over hers. “There. Nose kiss.”

She kept those wide eyes as her little mouth began to spread open into one of the biggest smiles he’d ever seen on a kid, granted he hadn’t spent much time around any.

“Again!” She squealed, grabbing his cheeks and pulling him forward. He expected to have a bloody nose from the force with which she came at him, but her movements became deliberate and gentle, as if getting it right was the most important thing in the world.

Nadia was incredibly pleased with herself, her little hands patting against Daryl’s chest before she wiggled out her request for freedom and sprinted toward the dining room with this newfound information to share with Eric and Aaron.

“Careful.” You said, though there was no hint of anything unkind in your tone. When he looked away from the other room, he found your expression to be one he couldn’t seem to identify. It was soft yet guarded. He didn’t move away when you reached a single hand out to adjust his vest. “You’re smiling.” And you walked away, leaving him there to realize that he was indeed wearing a small, lopsided grin.

He shook it off with a groan, absolutely regretting his decision to come in for dinner.

“Dorl!” Came the loud shout from the table. “Dorl, sketti!”

This was not going to end well.

It had been two weeks since the spaghetti dinner, which in fact had ended rather pleasantly. Aside from your giggles when he realized he was eating his meal with the same gusto and manners as the toddler next to him, Aaron had offered him a job that let him go outside the walls. He’d accepted almost immediately.

Little Nadia had been determined to take him home with them, so he walked you there with her tiny hand in his. Halfway, she had begun to tire and fuss, instinct had kicked in and he scooped her up in the same manner he would Judith. The child was asleep on his shoulder almost instantly.

He had zero intention of entering your home and was thankful the kid was out cold so that she couldn’t initiate the suggestion. He had passed her off to you and started to leave.

“Daryl.” You had called quietly. He still wasn’t sure why he had turned back to you so quickly. “That invitation is still open.” You smiled, he grunted. “Thanks for being so sweet with her. Goodnight.”

There had been a heavy feeling in his chest but he had nodded. “G’night.”

Now, you and little Nadia were almost a constant presence when he wasn’t beyond the wall. A presence that he found no longer really irritated him.

He would sit on the porch with the kid, working on his crossbow while Nadia colored or played with toys. He had to find her some of her own to have there because it seemed she and Judith were at odds about Daryl’s attention. He had made the mistake of lifting lil’ asskicker out of her playpen while Nadia was on his heels and the latter had begun to wail.

He had quickly passed Jude off to an equally concerned Michonne and scooped up the kid. “S’wrong? Hey.” Little arms wrapped around his neck and, though he didn’t see the angry pout directed at the other baby, Michonne did. He turned at her chuckle, eyes wide and confused.

Before she could explain, those little arms squeezed harder. “My Dorl.”

From that moment on, he saved time with Judith for emergencies (there were none) and for after Nadia had gone home with you.

“Don’t touch that, Dia.” Daryl huffed, catching her little hand reaching for the knife he had on the porch table. He had spent the morning skinning a few squirrels for Carol to use in a stew but was at that point, working on the tension on his bow.

And babysitting.

You had some inventory to do at the infirmary with Pete. The doctor gave him bad vibes so when you had asked, he’d accepted all too quickly. Even offered to tag along and keep an eye on the kid there. In the end, after you had politely declined, he had reasoned that you were a grown woman and could handle yourself.

“Babysitting, again, hmm?”

Daryl glanced up from his crossbow toward Carol on the top step, Nadia already beaming up at her from the hug around her waist. It lasted all of three seconds before the kid was back to her toys beside Daryl’s boot.

“Mhm.” Was the only answer he offered, one that was mimicked from the little person below him. He didn’t smile but Carol didn’t miss the way his eyes left the weapon to regard Nadia for a moment before returning to the task.

“Where’s Y/N?” She asked, plopping down onto the other chair. She grabbed a toy that had rolled away and handed it back to the child.

“Some inventory shit at the infirmary.” Daryl shrugged, rotating the bow to check his work. Carol made a noise that gave him pause, one he didn’t like. “What?”

“No one’s at the infirmary. I was just there for Mr. Henderson’s blood pressure medication.”

He could feel his heartrate picking up, a sense of foreboding so strong that he could barely think straight. “Pete weren’t there?”

Carol shook her head. “No one.” She sat up straight when Daryl stood, sheathing his knife and placing his crossbow on the railing. “Daryl?”

“Dia, I’m gonna be right back. You’re gonna stay with Carol for a few minutes. Tell me the rules.”

Nadia’s wide eyes narrowed into seriousness. “No bow. No move. Be good. No shit.” It took her a moment to babble through the small list but Daryl ruffled her hair with the smallest of half smiles.

“No shit, Daryl?”

He was already stepping off the porch. “Her mama hears ‘er sayin’ that an’ m’a dead man.”

Carol laughed and shook her head, turning her attention to the little human that was already working up to a cry as Daryl walked out of sight. “Do you like cookies, Nadia?”

He checked the infirmary first. He didn’t doubt Carol, but maybe she had missed a room or something. It was, as Carol had said, empty. “Fuck.” The next most logical place would be your home. He ran the entire way. He’d feel like an absolute fool if you were fine, but he’d cross that bridge later. The door was open, he could see that from the moment he rounded the curb. You had a habit of doing that and he hated it, but who was he to tell you what to do?

“Y/N?” He took your steps two at a time and stopped on the threshold. “Y/N? Are ya here?” No answer. He felt like shit the moment his boot touched the floor inside. He’d never taken you up on an invitation for the dinner you continuously offered him, much less any offer to simply come inside. Now here he was tearing room to room, in your safe space. There were covered pots on the stove and the oven was on, but where were you? “Y/N!” He placed a booted foot on the bottom stair before your voice stunned him frozen.

“Daryl?”

He nearly collapsed in relief.

“What’s wrong? Where’s Nadia? Daryl?”

“She’s fine. She’s with Carol.” He rasped, sheathing his knife when he saw you staring at it. Your hair was wet, your clothes damp. You must have been in the shower. “M’sorry. Carol said ya weren’t at the—just got worried. M’sorry.” His eyes had lowered to the stairs below you but then your bare feet were padding down them to stop directly in front of him. “I’ll, uh—lemme go get ‘er.” He had barely moved before your hand was on his shoulder. To his shock, he didn’t flinch; didn’t even have the urge.

“Are you okay?” You asked, ducking your head to seek out his gaze. He continued to expertly dodge.

“M’fine. Just—I’ll go get Dia.” He stepped away and out of the loose grip you had on him, immediately missing the warmth of your hand. What the hell was wrong with him?

“I was making us dinner.” The words rushed out of you, like you were trying to get them out before he could leave. Daryl looked over his shoulder from the doorway, an eyebrow arched. “Us. Me, Nadia, and—well, you.”

��Me? Why?” He hadn’t meant to sound so unkind, ungrateful, but that was just who he was down deep, wasn’t it? Still, you seemed unbothered, your nervousness born of something else entirely.

“Because Nadia likes you. I like you. We’d like to spend time with you that doesn’t involve me asking for favors or the entire community leering and making assumptions.”

He still hadn’t fully turned, but narrowed his eyes. “Think they ain’t gonna make assumptions when ya have me in your house?”

“Fair point.” You nodded, chuckling. “Honestly, I don’t give a fuck what they think but I worry that you do.” Head tilted, Daryl turned but remained in the doorway. “You seem so private, quiet. I don’t want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” Your bottom lip disappeared between your teeth for a moment. “So, will you come? Please?”

As much as he tried, he couldn’t sense a single ounce of dishonesty or ill intent in you. It was certainly there, wasn’t it? No one outside of the group that had grown to like him over months of death and sorrow wanted anything to do with him. So, why you? Why Nadia? “Alright, I’ll go get ‘er an’ be back.” He turned and took a step before you called out again.

“Don’t worry about changing or anything. Just bring you, okay?”

He nodded around the very foreign flutter in his chest, clearing his throat and leaving the house before he could overthink things right there in front of you. He’d be able to do that in abundance on the way to grab the kid.

To say he was confused was the largest of understatements. You were a beautiful woman. Where was Nadia’s father? In that world, the absence usually meant he was either dead or had willingly left, which he couldn’t fathom either. Was the kid the reason all the single men weren’t knocking down your door? That couldn’t be it. Nadia was amazing, all bright smiles and such an innocence that was refreshing in a world as dark it was.

Even if you did have suitors, why were you taking the time to get to know him? He was damn sure nothing special and had nothing to offer you. Daryl growled at himself. He was jumping the gun. You hadn’t expressed any real interest in him. You wanted to have dinner. Aaron and Eric had him over for dinner all the time. It was what friends did. He was your friend after all. He had to be for you to trust him with Nadia. He snorted. Maybe that was all the brat’s doing and you were just along for the ride.

His shoulders were slumped, feet dragging by the time he made it back to his house, already opening his arms in expectation of the bundle of Nadia that would be leaping into them any moment. “Dorl!”

“She was about to strap on your crossbow and come find you herself.” Carol teased from the doorway.

“I was barely gone twenty minutes, kid.” He nodded to Carol and turned back to take Nadia home. “Your mama’s at home makin’ something for supper. Ya hungry?”

“Mmmmhmmmm!” Little legs were swinging while bright eyes watched the street in front of them, her arms loosely around his neck, trusting him to not let her fall. And he would never. Daryl craned his head to look at her, all dark hair and big blue eyes. She could pass as his own kid to anyone who didn’t know better.

Whoa. That train of that was roughly derailed.

Easily done when the top of her head leaned against his temple and she began to hum some tune he didn’t know. It calmed his anxiety enough to not eat him from the inside out before he made it back to your house. Nadia was wiggling to be lowered before he could even get her to the steps. Much to her annoyance (if her little growl and pout were anything to go by), he didn’t place her on her feet until they were on the porch.

The door was still open and, man, he really wanted you to stop doing that.

“Mama!” Nadia squealed, running right into your arms.

“Hi, baby! Did you have fun with Daryl today?” You hefted her onto your hip, your face turned toward hers even though your smile was aimed at the archer.

“We always have fun.” He was close enough to ruffle the kid’s hair without invading your space.

“No shit!” Nadia proclaimed with her arms in the air. You were smiling but your eyebrows shot up toward your hairline. Daryl cleared his throat.

“M’a tell Carol to watch ‘er mouth.”

“Carol. Right.” You chuckled. You started to reach for his arm but must have thought better of it and motioned toward the dining room instead. He found he was disappointed. “Go ahead and sit down wherever. There’s some wine and water already there.”

Daryl liked wine. He’d partake when at Aaron and Eric’s for dinner but here? He wasn’t sure that was such a good idea. The table could seat six but there were three places set, the middle chair holding a booster seat. He didn’t sit, wouldn’t until you did. Instead he noticed how close the glasses of wine were sitting to Nadia’s place and took the liberty of moving each of them to the other side. Not that the kid would bother them but it just felt—right?

“Alright, kiddo. You get to eat first.” You weren’t carrying Nadia anymore but she was right behind you, looking up at the bowl of pasta like a pup that was about to get its kibble. Daryl was already lifting the kid into her seat when you turned from placing the bowl on the table. “Thank you.” You did touch his arm then. “Go ahead and sit. I’ll be right back.”

Nadia had apparently chosen his spot for him, patting the back of the chair to her left. Chewing on the side of his thumb, he glanced toward the kitchen. Wasn’t he supposed to pull your chair out for you or something? Aaron had.

“No, no, Dorl.” Nadia pulled at his elbow, earning a halfhearted scowl before he realized she was trying to get him to stop the anxious habit.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, not sure why he was apologizing when she just went back to dancing and eating once he had dropped his hand. He watched her for a moment, just being a kid, innocent and oblivious to the dangers and heartache that lay in wait just outside of Alexandria’s protective walls. She and you—just two more people for him to mourn in the end. What was he doing there? He had no business being in your lives. If he didn’t lose the two of you, then you would lose him. It was inevitable. It was fate. It was the way the world worked now, tirelessly snuffing out any semblance of light that could give someone like him hope.

And goddamnit, he’d be devastated. He adored your kid and though he couldn’t quite decipher what it was that he felt for you, he knew that if anything happened to you, he’d shatter.

“Daryl?”

“What?” He snapped out of reflex, not fully out of his head before he had realized you were speaking. You flinched, the pasta in the two bowls you were holding bounced but didn’t spill. “M’sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. Are you okay?” The bowls were placed on the table and a basket of fresh bread that he hadn’t noticed you had already brought out. How long had he been standing there?

“Yeah, uh—yeah, m’fine.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot, suddenly feeling very trapped in the small room. It wasn’t really that small, was it? “M’just—” He didn’t finish before he all but ran to the door, closing it behind him like he really wished you would start doing. He had a cigarette lit within seconds, trembling fingers bringing it to his lips for a long drag.

Pale light from inside cascaded around him as the door opened. You didn’t move any closer, obviously staying near Nadia while the little girl ate. “You okay?”

“Mhm.” Lie.

“Come back inside?” You requested after glancing toward Nadia, finding her eating her pasta elegantly with her fingers. Daryl said nothing, wasn’t even sure he could, but he flicked his cigarette toward the sidewalk and stood, walking past you with but a beat of hesitance.

Despite Nadia’s excitement at his return, he remained quiet, but offered the kid a ghost of a smile when she offered a bite of her own food. Disgruntled at his refusal, she wore her own version of a scowl and continued to eat. You had taken your seat, giving the bread basket a tiny shove toward the archer.

“Thanks.” He mumbled. He wasn’t sure how to act around you anymore. Staring at his food, he questioned whether the way he usually ate might disgust you. It was never something he actively thought about. He grew up in a home where he snatched what he could get and ate it quickly before someone could take it or reprimand him for it. It was nearly the same now that the world had ended. Thankful for any scrap of food, but quick to make sure it was gone before someone came ready to fight for it.

“If you think any louder, I might be able to hear it.”

Daryl glanced up, unable to meet your eyes. You were swirling the wine around in the glass with your gaze settled on him. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s just dinner, Daryl.”

With a barely there nod, he picked up his fork and began to eat, slowly and carefully, not noticing the way you watched him with a quizzical expression.

Nadia was having a hard time keeping her head up by the time dinner was finished, her little eyes closing before snapping open with a jerk of her head.

“Time for bed.” You announced, attempting to wipe her face around languid movements of annoyance. “Come on, baby.” Lifting her from the chair, you tilted your head when she leaned her upper body back toward Daryl, reaching out with lazy, grabby hands.

“Dorl night night.”

Halfway out of his seat, he froze. “Think ya should, uh—your mama should handle this’un, Dia.” She didn’t seem to have it in her to argue, flopping onto your shoulder. You managed to hold up a finger, asking him to wait while you put Nadia to bed. He did, but busied himself gathering the dishes, taking them to the sink, and rinsing them out as Carol had trained him to do. “Wow, my very own human dishwasher. Can I keep you?”

Daryl felt the heat rise in his face, traveling down to his chest and up to the tips of his ears. “Stop.” God, you were just as bad as Carol.

“Daryl.”

Oh, boy. Your tone had gone from playful to serious in two seconds flat. His stomach was in knots but he dared not turn around and rinsed the same bowl at least three times. “Hmm?”

“I’d like to see, uh—I’d like it if you'd come around more often. Tonight was—it was nice.”

And there it was. The one thing that had caused him so much inner turmoil now confirmed. You were interested and, for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why. When he finally managed to get his tongue to work, the words that spilled out were nothing like the ones running through his head and he regretted them immediately. “Where’s Dia’s daddy?” Christ, Dixon. “M’sorry.” He tried to backpedal, finally turning toward you and leaning back against the sink with a white-knuckled grip against the edge of the countertop. “Ain’t my business.”

“Gone. I don’t really give a fuck where.” You shrugged, so nonchalantly that he had to look at you. “He didn’t want her. Nearly got himself killed finding pills for me to take. I refused, he left. But I have her and I hope he’s a walker.” Your gaze was fond but serious, and he found not a single trace of annoyance or anger. “She’s never really liked men. Even Aaron and Eric had to coax her inside for dinner with a stale candybar.” You laughed at the memory, and Daryl realized he could listen to that sound for the rest of his life. “But then you. She wasn’t afraid, not for a single second.”

“It was the ‘possum.” He shrugged, shyly ducking his head for only a moment but looking back up through his fringe when you laughed again.

“Okay, we can go with that.” You lifted yourself up onto the island, kicking your legs, reminding him of Nadia. “Doesn’t really explain why she stuck to you like glue every moment since then, though. Dorl this and Dorl that. I’m not complaining. You’re good for her.” Daryl scoffed, ducking his head once more. “You are, Daryl. And I think she might be good for you too.”

“She’s a kid. Don’t know no better.” He shrugged, the urge to run becoming more and more prevalent. He didn’t belong there. It wasn’t his family. Nadia wasn’t his kid and you weren’t his. God, he wished you were.

You hummed, holding back something. “I had fun tonight, but when you come back, don't worry so much about what I think, okay?” The way he tried to eat more slowly?

“Yeah, okay. Was nice. Thanks, uh—thanks for havin’ me.” The archer made the choice to pass you and head for the door. Your bare feet hit the floor just behind him. “I’ll see ya ‘round. Lemme know if ya need someone to watch Dia.” Why the hell did he offer that?

“I will. Thank you.” The smile you gave him was almost sad. Maybe disappointed? “Goodnight, Daryl.”

“Yeah. Night.” He crossed the threshold but turned back, keeping his head low. “Keep your door shut.” There was no time for you to answer before he was jogging down your steps, barely slowing his stride all the way home. All the lights were off when he arrived and he couldn’t be more grateful to slip in and down to his room to berate himself properly until he was finally able to fall asleep.

Logically, he should have avoided you since that night, but Daryl never claimed to be the brightest crayon in the box. He absolutely did not look for reasons to go to your house, satisfied to find the door closed each and every time. If he saw you carrying something, he’d jog over to take it from you, no matter how big or small. He responded by meeting Nadia in the middle each time she called for him, even if he was covered in dark blood and brain matter.

“Dorl smell ick.” She would say.

He was down bad and though he would deny it until his last breath with the age old line of we’re just friends, Carol was smarter than that.

“Daryl, you and I are friends. You’re sweet on that girl and you can fight me if you try to claim any different.” She stirred at the brownie batter, intermittently swatting away his hand when he tried to sneak a taste. “You should just tell her how you feel.”

“Stop actin’ like ya know ev’rythin’.” He snapped with no real heat.

“Okay, fine. I know nothing.” She stated coolly, spreading the mixture into a baking pan. “Except that Spencer has been spending an awful lot of time around her and Nadia.”

Well, that had his attention. “What? When?” He hopped off the countertop and was quickly standing just beside Carol, moving accordingly so that she could continue her baking.

“Usually when you’re out. I think you intimidate him.”

“Damn well better intimidate him.”

“Why? You’re ‘just friends,’ remember?” Daryl curled his lip at her air quotes, turning on a heel to head toward the door.

“Shuddup.”

He hadn’t been focused, lingering on what Carol had told him that morning. Worrying that Spencer was putting the moves on you that very moment he wasn’t there to do anything about it. What if he’d missed his chance? He growled, trying to take more of his own weight off of Aaron but his leg burned and ached.

“Ain’t that bad.” He tried to brush it off, but it was, in fact, that bad. He hadn’t seen the damn trap, the walker backing him right onto it. He was lucky the dead bastard didn’t take a chunk of him when he went down, but Aaron was quick. Had Daryl been alone, he’d likely be snarling and growling on the ground with his calf still locked within that metal.

“Keep telling yourself that and maybe your stubbornness will keep you on your feet until we can make it back.” The other man huffed. “First Eric, now you. I swear, I’m cursed.” Daryl groaned but couldn’t disagree.

Christ. The archer’s head was fucked. He couldn’t focus with images of you running rampant at the forefront of his mind. The way you would smile when you saw him; how you’d laugh when he’d huff at Dia for calling him Dorl; you’d have him for dinner a few times a week and it was less and less awkward.

He was so fucked.

“Open the gate!” Aaron called urgently. Daryl hadn’t even been paying attention but maybe zoning out was what brought him that far with such an injury. The toe of his boot was dragging, his leg both numb and throbbing in a way he couldn’t seem to understand was even possible. Sasha was yelling, but he couldn’t understand what she was saying. He was too busy trying to look over his shoulder at the steady crimson trail that followed them. Would walkers follow it right to the gates? “Jesus, okay. I’m going to get help to carry you to the infirmary.”

“Fuck Pete. Gimme Y/N or just take me home.” Daryl slurred, his head falling back against the metal just inside the gates. He was fading, tired and smothered by a dark cloud that was creeping into the edges of his vision and mind. He knew he wouldn’t die from this, but damn, did it still suck.

“Dorl! Mama, Dorl boo-boo!”

Tiny, warm hands were on his face. He was cold, didn’t even realize it. Big blue eyes were hovering right in front of his face, a little mouth between chubby cheeks speaking with an urgency that made him want to scoop her up and soothe the worry. “Dia.” He breathed, his mind finally catching up, though he wasn’t sure for how long.

“Nada kiss boo-boo.”

Daryl chuckled breathlessly but pulled the little girl against his chest. “Nah, baby girl, don’t kiss that boo-boo. S’gross.” Big crocodile tears were forming and falling, and his heart ached. His little girl was never supposed to cry, never supposed to even be sad. “M’okay. Your mama’s gonna make it all better, you’ll see.”

“Mama, Dorl got big boo-boo.”

“I see that, baby. Can you move so mommy can take a look?” You were there, your voice a balm to the pain that was slowly fading.

“She’s alright.” Daryl shifted Nadia to his side, letting her hold on with her head on his filthy chest. You’d have to give her a bath later and somehow, he had the energy to feel bad about that.

“Jesus, Daryl, what did you do?” You were cutting the lower part of his pant leg, right there on the street, but he didn’t have it in him to see who might be watching. He muttered bear trap but didn’t really recall it being his voice. Was it even him?

The child holding to him made a noise when the wound was revealed, jagged punctures that still steadily bled and she shouldn’t be seeing that. Why wasn’t someone taking her away? “Ssh. S’okay, Dia. Just look at me—can ya hum that song ya always do when we take ya home?” A tiny sniffle but then a little tune in his ear.

“What happened? He okay?” Rick.

“Daryl!” Ah, Carol. Good.

“Hey, take her, would ya? Don’t need to be here.” He was gentle if not weak when he tried to hand off Nadia, kissing one of her little hands when he finally peeled them away from his neck. “M’a be okay, Dia.” She cried. Even as Carol promised her cookies and brownies, she cried and his heart ached more than his leg. He barely caught the word disinfect before the hellfire in his leg struck him like a hammer to the head and he knew no more.

“S’not that big’a deal. I can take care’a myself at home.” Daryl grimaced and watched you moving things around in your living room. You disappeared and returned several moments later with pillows and blankets.

“I know you can, but I also know you’re stubborn as a mule and you’ll try to go out of those gates behind Aaron within a day.” He barely opened his mouth before you held up an authoritative finger. “Don’t lie to me, Daryl Dixon. And don’t pretend I don’t know at least a little by now.”

“Dorl!”

Before he could process her voice, the archer had a lapful of toddler. It was hazy but he could remember how he felt at the gate, the protective instinct, the absolute knowledge that Nadia was his no matter how untrue it was. He couldn’t seem to shake it.

“Hey, Dia.”

“Be careful of his boo-boo, sweetie.” You admonished in the most gentle tone while propping Daryl’s leg up on a pillow. “He’s going to stay with us for a few days so I can keep an eye on him.”

“Why?” Came the innocent reply.

“Because Daryl is naughty and doesn’t like to listen when he’s told he can’t do something. Like you with Miss Carol’s cookies.”

Nadia gasped dramatically and turned those big blues to Daryl. “Dorl takes cookies.”

Glancing at you, expression bland, he nodded. “Yeah, I take the cookies.”

“So he has to stay right here on this couch unless mommy is helping him, okay? Can you be my junior nurse and make sure he stays put?”

“That ain’t fair.” Daryl objected with an indignant pout.

“Why? Because you know it’ll work?”

Daryl grunted and crossed his arms. He was in for a long few days.

A week later, the stitches were out but there was residual swelling that was hindering healing. Nothing to worry about, you had told him.

“Why ain’t Ken wearin’ no clothes?” Daryl was concerned to be ‘playing Barbies’ when Barbie wore a bathing suit and Ken was naked as the day he was—assembled? So far he’d been able to avoid dialogue and just bounce the doll around with facial expressions that kept the toddler occupied. “Seems a lil’ fucked up.”

“You try finding doll clothes nowadays.” There was laughter in your voice and tenderness in your touch while you cleaned the wound and changed the dressings. Only a couple more days of that.

“Maybe I will.” The archer mused, standing the doll on top of Nadia’s head, keeping it there with his finger on the top. Her little arms could only reach the legs, facing reddening and scrunching with giggles.

“Time to pick up your toys. Daryl needs to rest and you, missy, need to get to bed.”

“Noooooo.”

“Don’t sass your mama.” Daryl dropped the doll in favor of patting the kid on the head. “G’on now.” The archer dropped an arm outward, fully expecting the hug that was incoming. “Night, kid.”

“Nigh’ night’, dada.”

It was at that moment Daryl Dixon completely forgot how to breathe. His eyes were already on yours before the kid decided to drop that bomb and skip away to brush her teeth like she hadn’t just turned his world upside down.

“M’sorry. M’so sorry. I don’t—she didn’t—”

“I’m just—” you interrupted, backing toward the doorway, “I need to put her to bed.” You stumbled out of the room as if he were chasing you.

He wasn’t sure he could move if he tried. His heart was in his nose, his stomach in his ass, and his lungs were plaited around his spine. Why would the kid call him dada? It made no sense. A couple of months wasn’t long enough for anything like that. Right? Fuck, he needed to talk to Carol. His brain was malfunctioning. He couldn’t process this.

Throwing off the blankets, Daryl sat up, levering to his feet. He still had a limp but it was easier now. Shuffling to the exit, he stopped, staring at the handle of the closed door. You’d been doing that now, hadn’t you? He said something once and you had listened.

“So you’re just gonna run away after that, is that it?”

The archer spun so fast that he lost his balance, righting himself with a hand on the wall. “It ain’t—I was—just needed to talk to Carol.” He admitted. His shirt was damp and he was certain he would vomit.

“She didn’t mean anything by it, Daryl. I’ll talk to her.” You were wringing your hands, your chin wobbling.

Don’t cry. Please don’t cry. He had the sudden desire to hug you but didn’t dare move. Aside from casual touches, bumping shoulders in jest, and of course the occasional wound treatment, the two of you had never physically interacted. Not that he hadn’t thought about it. Wow, had he thought about it. “I know she didn’t mean nothin’.” Ouch. Somehow that revelation was worse.

“She loves you, Daryl. I’ll talk to her, I promise. Please don’t walk out on her. On—on me.”

He likely looked like an idiot hobbling half the distance to where you stood. “Ain’t goin’ nowhere.” When you nodded and dropped your head, he dared another unsteady step. “M’a stay as long as ya want me here. You an’ Dia.” With one hand, he touched your shoulder and left the decision up to you. You needed no further prompting to step into his arms. For a moment, nothing else mattered. But then you were stepping back.

“Okay.” You nodded, turning your head to wipe away a tear you thought he didn’t already notice. “I like having you here.” He returned the nod silently.

Nothing else was said. Daryl went back to the couch, you went to get ready for bed. The night went on with both you and Daryl feeling more alone than ever.

“She really called you dada?” Carol asked in an excited whisper, the wide grin on her face in direct contrast to Daryl’s frown. “That’s a good thing, right?”

“No!” He shot back immediately, looking over his shoulder at the little girl playing on the living room floor. They had somehow even managed to get her to sit next to Judith’s playpen, so long as Daryl didn’t touch Lil’ Asskicker, peace remained. “I mean, yeah. Fuck, I dunno what I mean, Carol.”

“Daryl.” The seriousness in her tone brought his gaze to hers, flinching when he found her leaning on her elbows much closer than she had been just a moment ago. “I’m gonna ask you a question and I want you to answer me honestly.”

“Ain’t never lied to ya.”

“Okay.” Her eyes, just as blue as his own, narrowed. “Do you love that little girl?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” It was true. It was so different from how he loved Judith but yet completely the same. He would give anything for her to have been his, to have been there while you carried her. He wanted to spit on the man that tried to force you to end it. He couldn’t imagine a world without you and little Nadia anymore. It was as if the two of you were the missing pieces that could give him a chance to be whole.

“And Y/N?”

“What?”

“Do you love Y/N?” Carol leaned back a little, her gaze no less intense.

“S’a lil’ more—I, uh—”

“I said STOP!”

Daryl was on his feet instantly at the sound of your voice, running outside. His limp was less profound and didn’t hinder him from descending the steps to see you across the street with your arm in Spencer’s grasp. You were likely on your way to collect Nadia.

“Come on, Y/N. You’re beautiful, and I’ve seen the way you look at me.” Spencer pulled you toward him.

“You’re delusional!”

“Stop being such a prude. You’ve got a kid. You think you got any other options out there?”

“Yeah! She does!” Daryl’s fist had already connected before the other man had even realized he was approaching. The archer stepped in front of you and stayed there, coiled to attack but holding steady until he was given a reason.

“You?” Spencer spat, literally, a glob of blood and saliva landing next to Daryl’s boot. “The dirty redneck everyone’s afraid of? That’s laughable.”

Daryl started to move until he felt the smallest tug on his jeans. Nadia was looking up at him, equal parts curious and afraid.

“Dada mad?”

Your arms encircled his stomach with whispers of he’s not worth it repeated over his shoulder. “Get the fuck outta here an’ don’t come near my girls again.” The archer waited, arching a brow when Spencer hesitated.

“You heard him.” Rick stepped up to Daryl’s left, Michonne and Carol on this right. “Best be going now.” Spitting again, the man curled his lip and scrambled to his feet, stomping off toward his mother’s home. “Well, that’s gonna be a problem.”

“I’ll go talk to Deanna.” Maggie offered, nodding at Rick but stopping to squeeze Daryl’s arm on her way by. What the fuck? Had everyone noticed?

“We should make ourselves scarce.” Michonne suggested with a knowing grin.

Once they were all out of sight, Daryl deflated, one hand falling to the top of Nadia’s head. “Ain’t angry, Dia.” She sniffled and seemed to only hug his leg tighter. When it was clear he couldn’t turn with the added weight to his injured leg, you stepped around in front of him.

“Your girls?” You asked, expression so terrifyingly unreadable.

“I just—he needed to leave an’ I didn’t want him to think he could come back ‘round.” His bottom lip was instantly being gnawed between his teeth. “Needed to make sure ya were okay.”

“So, we’re not your girls?” There was definitely disappointment there. You were wringing your hands again before reaching toward Nadia.

“I mean, if ya—yeah.” Daryl swallowed hard. “Yeah, you’re my girls. Have been for a while. M’just a idiot an’ I was—I’m scared. Don’t wanna be like my old man.”

You hummed, stepping into him to brush back the fringe across his eyes. “You haven’t told me anything about your parents, but I’m willing to listen. I wanna know everything about you.”

“Me too—’bout you, I mean. ‘Bout Dia.” He was reaching for your face, leaning in just as you did. His lips barely brushed yours before there came another tug at his jeans again.

“Home, dada.”

You laughed while Daryl just looked stricken and confused. “You heard her, Daryl. Let’s go home and figure this out.”

One Year Later

“Daddy! Lookit picture!!”

Daryl looked up from the mess of rabbits he was skinning on the porch, blowing upward to move some of the hair from his eyes. The almost four year old was sprinting down the street from the Grimes’ house, a piece of paper waving in her grip above her head. He waved to Michonne who had been watching Nadia make it back safely. “Whatcha got there, Dia?” She was grinning from ear to ear when she presented it to him, holding it out in front of her because ew no when he reached for it with bloody fingers.

There were three stick figures. One was obviously him if the crazy hair and scribbled attempt at a crossbow were anything to go by. A small figure was at his side, dark hair and a big smile: Nadia. And then there was you. Daryl snorted. You were a stick figure with a circle drawn around the middle.

“Your mama’s gonna ‘preciate that, kid.”

“Appreciate what?” You stepped out with two glasses of water, placing them on the table and resting your hand on your swollen belly. Nadia proudly displayed the drawing and received a big smile and mhm, so pretty from you while Daryl snickered into his shoulder. “Go put it on the fridge, baby, and wash your hands. Supper’s nearly ready.”

“Okay, mama!” And off she went in a blur.

“Not funny, Dixon.” You dug your bare toes into his lower back until he yelped.

“S’a little funny.” He wiped his knife across his jeans.

“About as funny as you cleaning these rabbits on my front porch.” He ducked his head sheepishly when he turned to watch you lower into your chair.

“I’ll clean it up, Sunshine. Don’t get all uppity ‘bout it.” Rising from his perch, he gathered the meat onto a parchment you had given him and wrapped it, leaving the bones and fur to handle later. “Dia! C’mere!” Moving at inhuman speed, she was looking up at him from the doorway the next second. Daryl jerked his chin toward a bag on the table beside his water glass. “Broughtcha somethin’ back.”

You leaned forward with curiosity and watched your daughter pull out the contents of the bag, barely catching a glimpse of the different colors before Nadia hugged Daryl’s leg and disappeared back inside with squeals of delight echoing in her wake.

“What did you bring her?”

Daryl smirked. “Told ya I’d find clothes for them dolls.”

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #step dad!daryl #dad!daryl #daryl x female reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl dixon twd #Spotify

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boba-beom · 11 months ago

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ೃ⁀➷ be good | CHOI SOOBIN NSFW

pairing: idol!soobin x f!reader

genre: fluff, smut | long ass one shot

summary: while you’re both abroad, soobin missed talking to moas but you also missed having some alone time with him. this night is the only night he’s had the room to yourselves, so you decide to play around with him while he goes live. and he lets you.

disclaimer: this only fiction and does not represent this idol in any way.

a/n: happy belated soobin day ♥ it was about time letting this out of the dungeon lol also the date for the weverse live is 2022.07.28. I hope you enjoy it with some references to the live itself hehe. thank you to my angel @junniieesbby for beta reading <3

wc: 3.1 k

WARNINGS UNDER CUT

warning(s): messy oral (m!receiving), face fucking, slight hair pulling, soobin cums multiple times, cum swallowing, use of affectionate terms (baby, princess, good girl, good boy), A LOT of praising, making out, perv!soobin, panty stealing soobs, penetration, soobin's biggggg, slight overstim, momentary cockwarming, whiny soobin:(((, unprotected sex (wrap it up and stay safe!!), boob sucking, soobin’s a lil messy but still so sweet.

"Hello MOAs! How are you guys?" Soobin's voice vibrates against your chest. You're laying on his legs under the duvet while he props his phone on the bedside, showing from his chest up. It was a spontaneous decision for him to go live at a different angle, but it only came to your advantage.

Watching Soobin read out comments from his beloved fans was so endearing to you, you knew how much of a hard-working leader your boyfriend has been for the past three years, but it was just as endearing knowing that he's the same endearing person in front and behind the screen.

What MOAs didn't know was that you were in the perfect position to lightly skim your hands over his thighs and occasionally over his crotch. It certainly did not go unnoticed by Soobin.

"'Who's your roommate tonight? Is it Beomgyu?'" He reads out a comment in which he replies with an airy chuckle, partially from the way your fingertips were caressing his semi-hard dick through his mesh shorts. "Ah, no, we all have our own rooms tonight. I think the members are asleep now, though."

You had to admit, you wanted to applaud Soobin for his voice not faltering while your fingers were wandering around his lower body. Yet, you wonder just how far you could go until he'd beg for a time out. He looks at you for a split second through his black frames, feeling it slightly slip down his nose bridge until he pushes it back up, laying his arm straight in front of him so he could cup your cheek — his way of allowing you to do whatever you want — out of frame from the camera.

His caresses were warm, his thumb rubbing up and down your cheek until you raise your head up to capture his thumb in your mouth. Your tongue swirls around his digit and then released it to place a single kiss on his clothed crotch. You could feel he'd definitely gotten harder from your last touch. Soobin, on the other hand, found his breathing picking up after feeling the warmth of your wet mouth on the pad of his thumb, hoping you'd use your mouth on his cock in the next few minutes.

You tug on the band of his shorts, and as if on cue, he picks up his phone so it was closer to his face. As he continues to read and answer comments and questions regarding their trip in America so far, he removes his frames and sets it on the bedside table. He was holding his phone just above your head, his eyes subtly flickering towards your face every now and then to see what you would do next.

For a moment, you let him answer the next few questions but you were growing impatient. Finally hooking your fingers under the waistband of his shorts and underwear, he hisses out of satisfaction, releasing his pretty, hard cock from the restraints ; watching precum leak from his blushed tip.

He was big. Bigger in both length and girth. The biggest you've seen, and ever since your first time together you had devoted yourself to him, and promised to look after and please him the best you could.

"'Is there a ghost in your room?'" He reads out. You chuckle from the thought that his fans were either messing around with him, or sensing that he wasn't alone.

You took this as your opportunity to start working on him, what could be better than you and his fans teasing him at completely different ends of the spectrum? You wrap your hand around the base of his cock, feeling his thighs tensing under your arms.

"Mmm..." Soobin hums. He could feel a moan about to escape but he managed to save himself from doing so, "BOO!" He pulls the phone closer to his face, thinking he was able to surprise those watching him, but his wavering chuckles didn't go unnoticed.

You slowly place wet kisses along his shaft, trailing up to his tip until the hint of saltiness overtook your tastebuds, tapping the head of his cock on your tongue a few times before lightly suckling on it. If your boyfriend's breathing wasn't fast enough before, then it's definitely picked up now. The urge to roll his eyes back was strong, but he remembered to keep reading new comments to distract him from doing so.

"'Soobin is sexy just by breathing.'" He reads out another comment then carefully observes the way you stretch your lips, taking more of his thick cock in your mouth. The sight was so filthy but it felt so heavenly to him. "Thank you." He chuckles at the comment.

After lightly sucking and licking his tip for a few more minutes, and Soobin talking to MOAs, you decide to take more of him in your mouth, inching the tip closer to the back of your throat, but careful enough to not gag. Soobin places his free hand on the top of your head, his fingers lacing through the loose strands but curling in to form a stable grip in your hair. His other hand still holding the phone close to his face and he positions his phone so only his nose up was in frame. Loosely holding your head up to face him, he didn't have to wait for you to nod and agree to use your mouth for his pleasure, but you were also excited to please him for your own satisfaction.

He began pushing your head lower each time, feeling how wet and slippery your mouth was around his cock, your saliva was starting to drip from your bottom lip and down along his length, just the way he likes it. Your tongue traces the prominent vein under his shaft and you felt your panties dampening by the second. Soobin didn't always use you like this, but when he did, you just knew you were going to be fucked good the second the live ends.

You look up at him, holding eye contact while his mouth is slightly agape from the overwhelming pleasure, and he looks so pretty with his bangs beginning to stick to his forehead, partially covering his eyes.

He shuffles slightly, trying to get into a more comfortable position for the both of you. Using the hand holding the phone to stabilise his balance on the bed, the camera was flat against the sheets, blacking out the viewers' screens. While his fans were questioning the blacked out screen in the chat, you took this opportunity to remove the duvet over your back, throwing it aside with half of it hanging off of the bed.

"I'm close," Soobin silently mouths at you, his eyes hazy and drunk off the feeling of the perfect suction and pace you were going at. You smile up at him when his tip occasionally slipping past your lips and he swore he could have came then and there.

You pick up the speed at which you were going at, using your hands to jerk the part of his shaft that your mouth couldn't take, determined to stimulate him as much as you can. Your sweet boyfriend let out a soft gasp but played it off as if he was just sighing, but even with that, it could have sounded a little off if anyone listened closely.

Releasing his tip with a quiet pop, you were controlling the sound of your breathing, trying to catch your breath without the phone mic picking it up. You smile at the sight of his head thrown back, quickly tapping his thigh and nodding your head in the direction of his phone, reminding him that he just left the live with a blank screen.

Thankfully he adjusted the camera close to his face again, hoping the fans hadn't heard anything and allowed him to adjust properly. "'Where did you go?' 'What was with the rustling?'" He read a few more comments flying up his screen, and you picked up where you left him with his tip occasionally reuniting with the back of your throat.

A gentle sigh slipped out of Soobin's lips when you swallowed around the head of his cock, momentarily squeezing his tip before lightly humming around him. The sound was almost like an incentive for you to keep going, but instead you were left with your eyes widening, afraid that you might get caught at any given second.

"Huh? Hah-" His breath was airy and ragged in the most discreet way possible. You sped up making it difficult for him to formulate his sentence, stuttering out a couple of strangled chuckles, "Oh! My legs— my legs are sweaty so I had to remove the duvet." He sighs in between words all while his cute bunny smile was plastered on his face.

You were shuffling your legs to press your thighs together from the sound of his sighs, hoping he could be more vocal once he's done with the livestream. But you had to remind yourself that you were currently prioritising Soobin's pleasure and you can always receive yours later.

His hand tuggs on your hair again, pulling your head upward just as you were about to bob your head towards his public bone. You inaudibly wince from the brief pain, mouth left open with your tongue hanging out of your mouth with a trail of saliva attached from your tongue to his glistening tip.

Soobin was meant to be answering a question, but he was distracted from the lewd sight just a few inches in front of him. Another smile crept up your lips as you gathered your spit and stuck your tongue out again just for your saliva to slide off your tongue and dribble down the head and his pink-ish shaft. You can't help but ogle at it yourself, he has such a pretty cock you could never have enough of it. His eyes follows yours and his eyelids drops a little, trying his hardest not to roll his eyes back for the nth time that evening.

His dick starts twitching more in the palm of your hand, indicating he was nearing his orgasm at any given moment. "Uh guys, I'm gonna have to end the live now. My phone is at three percent so I need to charge it. Sleep well MOAs!" His breath wavered at the last second. You had never seen him end his lives so quickly before, but it was just the excitement building up.

He places his phone down beside him, lifting the hem of his white shirt a little higher up his torso and pulling his shorts and underwear past his ankles to place them aside. Not bothering to charge the device, he rushes to place each hand on either side on the crown of your head.

His cock inches in a little more each time, reaching into your mouth until the head bumps the back of your throat repeatedly, filling the room with the sound of the gargling. He raises his hips as he controls your head to move until the tip of your nose made contact with his pubic bone.

"Oh baby," he groans, throwing his head back. "God, you're doing so good for me. You almost made me moan on live." He let out a sheepish chuckle, followed by a strangled moan which had the sound shooting straight to the pulse intensifying between your thighs.

The recurring twitches manages to send your sweet boyfriend over the edge, his hand stilling your head as he lets out the prettiest sounds to exist. His moans were laced with curses and a string of your name in between. You watch his torso lift off the bed, curving inwards to look at the way you took in his load.

"That's it, princess. Swallow it all for me, yeah?" The moment your eyes met, the corner of his lips lifts into a smirk. He loved the way you look; your dishevelled hair, your eyes and lips glistening, a sheer coat of his cum leaking from the corner of your lips. Soobin missed seeing you in such a state, and it's only just clicked to him that you haven't done this for a while.

"Baby?" You ask him. "I can't believe you let me do that to you while you were live." You both chuckle, realising how pervy that sounded. To Soobin, however, it sounded like another idea.

He replies with a hum, watching you use your fingers to pick up the spilled cum from the corner of your lips and darting your tongue out to swallow the remaining.

"Would you let me ride you," you crawl higher up the bed, situating your legs on either side of his hips until your clothed core starts grinding over his bare, still-hard cock. "While you're on live?"

You bury your face into the crook of his neck, smelling his fresh scent mixed with his aftershave that you undeniably loved. His arms wraps around your waist, his hands finding purchase on your ass cheeks to squeeze them ; loving the feeling of your ass in his large palms, his thumbs massaging circles before giving your flesh another good squeeze.

"I think you're onto something." He smiles, picking up his phone, which was now charging, and opening the Weverse app to notify MOAs that he'll be able to go back on live shortly.

A soft whine left your lips, lingering by his ear. Pulling back, he leans in to peck your lips a few times until your one hand held his shoulder to steady the kiss and the other wrapping around the side of his neck.

As much as you loved kissing Soobin, moments like these would be engraved in your mind. His plush bottom lip trapped between your teeth, plumping them from your harsh kisses. He tastes like chocolate chips from the Chips Ahoy cookie he ate before the live.

Irregular breaths filled the once quiet room, only heightening his hearing and noticing the way you were softly moaning against his lips. It turned him on for the most part, to the point his dick was throbbing beneath you again. You wouldn't have known until he pushed your ass down and he lifted his hips to meet your throbbing core.

Both of you exchange moans, like harmonies exclusive to the both of you. He could feel your damp panties against his shaft, but the thin barrier was beginning to agitate him.

"Baby, panties off." He litters butterfly kisses along your jaw, and then let you pull your panties down your legs in a slow, seductive manner. You were going to throw them somewhere over the bed, but felt the smallest bit of resistance from his fingers looping through and scrunching it up into his fist to stuff it into the pocket of his discarded shorts. "I'm gonna have to take this, sorry."

Soobin was definitely going to be using that in the near future. When he gets a little turned on for no reason before a performance, he'd need to jack off in the restroom just for his hard-on to disappear, he'd use your panties to help him; sniffing them, or even wrapping it around his shaft imagining that you were dry humping him—his guilty pleasure.

"Put it in," you sigh. You were ready to feel him inside you again, after not having sex for what felt like months because of practice prior the trip abroad, and now his schedule has been packed full of interviews. "Slowly."

You were hovering your core above his hips, pushing your weight on his shoulders to use him to balance yourself. He held the base of his dick, aligning it to your leaking cunt and sliding it up to your clit. Even that small action made your knees weak, your balance faltering to the point your knuckles were turning white on his shoulders.

Soobin's other hand held onto your waist, prodding his blushed tip at your entrance. You felt the pressure of his hand pushing you down, easing himself inside you until your hips were flush against each other.

"I missed this. My baby's been so patient." He growls against your chest in attempt to hold in his moans, but his one hand found its way to your breast, massaging it through your top. He lifts it up, bunching it up under your neck until your chest was on full display just for him.

"Go on baby, show me how much you've missed me." You run your fingers through his hair all while he flicks his tongue at your nipple, moving onto the other in an alternate pattern.

With you working yourself on his shaft, he encapsulates one of your breasts in his mouth, suckling on it with his teeth grazing your hardened nipple every now and again. You let out wanton moans, throwing your head back from the sensation. It was hard to concentrate on the pattern of your hips once you felt his fingers applying pressure to your clit.

You clench onto his cock, feeling yourself heavily throbbing while he's inside you. Soobin releases your boob from his mouth to let out his whines he could no longer hold in.

"Keep moving like that, I want to fill you up with my cum." He whimpers, throwing his head back with his eyes tightly shut. You moan in response, just thinking about him filling you up was enough to push you closer to your high.

After thrusting your hips onto him a few more times, his hands find their way on your hips, holding you down as he curls in, watching his abdomen flex.

"Cum in me baby, be a good boy for me." You coo at him while you kiss his neck. You could feel his shaft pulse inside you until he was moaning in your ear, indicating his release. Spurts of his cum fills you up until it was leaking down your shaking thighs and onto the sheets beneath the both of you.

"Shit, Soob. My legs—"

"It's okay angel, I got you." His voice was a little hoarse, weak from his beautiful moans a second ago.

You continued to slowly ride out both your highs, all while the palm of his hand was caressing your leg, in attempt to ease the shakiness of it.

"You're still pulsing. You want another round?" He smirks at you, eyes hidden under his damp bangs.

You shake your head, "not yet, just stay inside me while you go back on live."

"You're so bad." He chuckles at your proposition, picking up his phone and checking if he looks alright before going back on live.

He loads up Weverse for the second time, holding his phone closer to his face so the frame stopped just by his shoulders. You lean back so your shadow can't be seen, accidentally clenching around his still-hard dick, but Soobin bit the inside of his cheeks to suppress a whine.

"Hi MOAs, I wanted to talk to you still. I'm charging my phone so I can still talk to you guys." He explains to his fans, trying so hard not to buck his hips up into yours.

taglist: @ahnneyong @prodsh00ky @wccycc @lizdevorak @fairybin @laylasbunbunny @acaiasahi @ttyunz @cha0thicpisces @fairybinie @ja4hyvn @yunkiwii @aprilisque @bb-eilish @ericyjun @luvsoobs @yeonyeonyeonjun @junniieesbby @kyrkitten @hyuntaena @day6andetcetera @dainsleif-when-playable @txt-yaomi @soobinsman (here's my taglist, lmk if you want to be added to it and please specify!)

#kflixnet #k-labels #soobin smut #soobin hard hours #soobin x reader #soobin scenarios #soobin imagines #soobin oneshot #txt smut #txt hard hours #txt scenarios #txt imagines #txt oneshot #mdni #smiles hard hours #last try #those tags and those who follow me would be the only ones to see this <3

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hypewinter · 2 years ago

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Clockwork clutched the bundle close to his chest as he approached the two entities.

"I am glad you could meet with me on such short notice," he greeted.

The first of the two figures looked up. She was a tall and boney woman, with ash grey skin. She wore a long black mourning dress and a veil that obscured most of her features.

"Think nothing of it old friend," came a low gravely voice. "Why have you called?"

It was then that the ancient of time revealed what was in his arms. Gently unfolding the blanket, he exposed the face of a sleeping baby.

"Something has happened to the King of the Infinite Realms," he said. "As you can see he has now become a baby. As such it is no longer safe for him here."

"He's so cute!" the second being beamed. "I just want to squish his tiny widdle cheeks!" He was practically a being of pure light but right now, he had dimmed himself to a man with blonde hair. Very reminiscent of one of his chargers.

His outburst garnered a little slap on the back of his head from his companion. "Hush," she hissed. "The child is sleeping."

"Thank you, Lady Gotham," Clockwork said.

"Of course, you may continue."

"I have called you here because I need a favor. He cannot stay here and I was hoping I could place him in your care," The ancient of time explained.

Lady Gotham stepped forward, reaching for the baby, "Of course. It would be-"

Clockwork pulled baby Daniel out of reach. "Allow me to finish. I wish for you to raise him together."

It wasn't often that the guardian of Gotham was thrown off guard but this time, she audibly gasped. "You want me to raise the child with him?" she questioned, pointing to her companion.

"Indeed. I mean no offense but the Speed Force will provide a sense of humor and freedom you will not be able to. I have seen how tortured your own charges can become." Clockwork replied.

Lady Gotham growled but the Speed Force just went back to cooing. "Awwww I get to help raise this lil guy," he gushed. "Ohhhh I'm so excited! I'll teach him lots of fun games and we can binge watch so many shows together. And and and, I'll let him try all my favorite foods. Maybe I'll even introduce him to my speedsters. I bet it will be loads of fun!"

This earned him another slap. "You fool, what part of the child is sleeping do you not understand? Besides, the child will need more stimulation than television and he cannot eat all that junk you call food."

Clockwork turned back to Lady Gotham. "This is why I am leaving him in the care of the both of you. Each of you provides something the other can not. Can I count on you?"

Lady Gotham stepped forward once again and this time Clockwork allowed her to take the baby. "Fear not, Kronos. I will make sure this dolt does not endanger the child. He will be safe in our hands."

"Yep!" the Speed Force added. "We'll give him the happiest childhood on Earth!"

Clockwork sighed. He knew this was the optimal timeline yet still he doubted. He leaned in close to baby Daniel. "Take care little one," he whispered. "The Realms shall eagerly await your return." Then, in an uncharacteristic move, he planted a quick kiss on the baby's head. Daniel giggled softly in his sleep but didn't wake.

Clockwork straightened looked at the two before him. "Go now, quickly. And take care."

Both nodded firmly before turning and disappearing into the portal from whence they came.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #winter's tales

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dixons-sunshine · 9 months ago

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You Are My Sunshine | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine*

Summary: Being pregnant was a challenge, and being pregnant in an apocalypse came with a whole set of challenges on its own. Luckily, you had Daryl to take care of you, even if he was a little bit overprotective.

Genre: Fluff

Era: Alexandria, post Saviour war, pre the building of the bridge.

Warnings: Swearing, probably other things I can’t think of right now.

A/N: I don’t really know if pregnant ladies not being allowed to lift heavy things is factual or not. I just remembered someone telling me once that it could be harmful for the unborn child, and I’ve seen it being mentioned in movies and shows before, so I went based off of that. If it isn’t true, please pretend that it is for my sake lol.

“I know ya can, but it dun’ mean ya have to. Ya need’a take it easy.”

“Daryl, I'm perfectly capable of carrying it myself, you know.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, a small smile spreading over your face. “Dar, I have to do something. I can’t let everyone else do everything while I sit on my ass all day.”

“Yer pregnant. I ain't lettin’ ya overwork yerself. Anyone have a problem with that, let me know and I’ll handle ‘em. I ain’t lettin’ anythin’ happen to our baby jus’ ‘cause some people can’t pick up the slack and ya have to do their work for ‘em.”

“I highly doubt carrying one crate is gonna do anything,” you stated matter-of-factly, walking at a steady pace beside the archer while he was carrying the crate in question back to the pantry.

“Ain’t riskin’ it,” Daryl retorted with a sense of finality, pushing the crate onto one of the shelves before turning to you. He took a step towards you and placed a gentle hand on your growing bump, looking at you with a soft expression. “Ya and this baby, our baby, are the most important people in the world to me. I ain’t lettin’ nothin’ happen to the two of ya. If that means carryin’ a crate so that ya can rest or fightin’ off a herd of walkers so that yer safe, so be it. I’d do anythin’ for you and our lil’ one.”

You smiled softly at the archer you’ve grown to love above everything else. You leaned forward to press a quick, gentle peck on his cheek before leaning back, giggling at the bashful look and blush that coated Daryl’s face from the small action. “Sorry,” you said with a light laugh, aware of his feelings towards public displays of affection. “You’re just too adorable sometimes, you know that?”

That elicited a scoff from Daryl. He withdrew his hand from your bump and stepped back, ducking his head down to let his hair hide the growing blush on his face. “I ain’t adorable,” he retorted quietly.

“You are,” you responded with a light laugh. “There’s nothing you can say that’ll change my mind about that. You, Daryl Dixon, are adorable, sweet, caring and so much more. There honestly aren’t enough adjectives in the dictionary to describe how perfect you are to me.”

Daryl scoffed again. He shook his head at you, but you could see his mouth twitch up into a small smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Nah,” he started, glancing at you through the hair that hung in front of his eyes. “Yer the perfect one. ‘M lucky to call ya mine.”

“Don’t start with me, Dixon. We can go back and forth about who’s more perfect all day,” you joked, successfully gaining a small chuckle from him in response.

“Alright,” he started, taking a step forward to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “I ain’t about to start an argument with the pregnant lady.”

“If that’s the case, does that mean I can help out with the tasks around here?” you asked, batting your eyelashes up at him innocently.

Daryl scoffed and shook his head. “Nah, that I ain’t lettin' happen. I was talkin’ ‘bout petty arguments. Ya need to take it easy and rest. Leave the work to the people who ain’t got unborn babies in their bellies they have to worry ‘bout.”

“Daryl—” you started, about to voice your protest, but the archer cut you off.

“None of that,” he stated with a shake of his head, his tone stern. “Ya remember the times ya wouldn’t let me do much to help out when I was hurt? I could help jus’ fine then too, but ya were worried ‘bout me and takin’ care of me. Let me take care of ya now, alright? Ya have more at stake here than tearin’ a few stitches.”

You pondered over his words for a few moments, hesitantly nodding after a few seconds. “Alright,” you finally agreed with a small sigh. “I haven’t really been getting much sleep these past few days. I guess I can go take a nap or something if that’ll make you feel better.”

“Hey,” Daryl started, taking one of your hands in his. “This ain’t ‘cause I think yer incapable to help out or somethin’. I know ya can, but I would feel better knowin’ yer not accidentally overworkin’ yerself. I’ve seen it happen before. Ya’d get so focused on a task and would overwork yerself without even knowin’ it. I dun’ want that to happen to ya right now.”

“Okay,” you nodded, willing the feelings of being useless away at the archer’s reassuring words, knowing he spoke nothing but the truth. “But the moment you guys desperately need an extra pair of hands, promise me you’ll come get me?”

Daryl nodded half-heartedly, and you could tell that even if he promised he would, he probably wouldn’t come get you. He’d put yours and your baby’s safety above everything else, even at the cost of a few extra hours of work for him and the other Alexandrians.

You leaned up on your toes to press a feathery light kiss to his lips before withdrawing. You gave him a smile before turning to walk out of the pantry towards the home you shared with him. As soon as you reached the front door of your home and pushed inside, you shrugged off your jacket and kicked off your shoes, discarding them by the table next to the entrance. You looked at the expanse of the quiet house and sighed, knowing you’d be alone until the sun started to set.

Well, you thought to yourself, I might as well make the best of my time alone. You went towards the kitchen to get a glass of water before descending up the stairs towards your room. You changed into something more comfortable before settling down on the bed, grabbing the book you were busy reading and flipping to the page you were busy with. You absentmindedly placed one hand over your stomach, the other holding the book as your eyes started to trail over the words on the page.

After a while, the words on the page started to blur together. You blinked repeatedly, hoping to clear your vision, but to no avail. Your eyes fell closed on their own accord, and within a few moments, you were asleep.

The feeling of the bed dipping beside you awoke you from your slumber. You opened your eyes and brought one of your hands up to wipe the sleep out of your eyes. When your vision cleared, you locked eyes with Daryl, the man having a faint, soft smile on his face.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake ya,” he apologized, bringing a hand up to brush the stray hair back and away from your eyes.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him, bringing yourself up to a sitting position. You grabbed the book that you had read before falling asleep and placed it on your bedside table, before shifting your attention back to the archer.

Daryl was seated on the edge of the bed, busy pulling his boots off of his feet. When he was done, he laid back against the headboard, bringing his legs up to rest on the bed. His shoulders were slightly slumped, his posture giving away how tired he was. You furrowed your eyebrows at that. The workload hadn’t been that much that day, and as soon as the people were done they could return to their homes, so you couldn’t understand why Daryl looked so tired. Unless...

“Daryl,” you began softly, instantly catching the archer’s attention. “Did more work come in while I was here at home?” Daryl’s silence was enough of an answer. “Daryl—”

“S’fine. Nothin’ we couldn’t handle. Jus’ some buildin’ materials Maggie and the King sent us from their communities to fix up more houses. Rick wanted to get started on the repairs today, so Aaron and I got some people together to start.”

“Daryl,” you started, shaking your head. “I told you that if you needed an extra pair of hands to come and get me.”

“Nah, we were fine. Ya clearly needed the rest.”

“But—” you started to retort, but Daryl cut you off instantly.

“Michonne told me that really heavy liftin’ ain’t good for a pregnant lady. Said it can hurt the baby, so I didn’t want ya carryin’ logs and other heavy materials around. The rest of us can handle that.”

“When did you talk to Michonne?” you asked skeptically, your eyes narrowing in suspicion.

A sheepish look graced Daryl’s features. He avoided your gaze and instead focused his eyes on the bedsheets. “About a week after we found out that yer pregnant,” he admitted, nervously chewing on his bottom lip. “I was askin’ her and Carol what I could do to help make yer pregnancy easier, what would help with yer mornin’ sickness and what ya should avoid doin’, and she told me that ya needed to refrain from liftin’ heavy things. Said it could harm the baby.”

“So that’s why you’ve been so against me helping out around here?” you asked, earning a nod of confirmation from Daryl.

“Yeah. Most of the work we gotta do ‘round here involves heavy liftin’, and I didn’t want ya accidentally hurtin’ yerself or our lil’ one ‘cause of it. That’s why I’ve been so adamant about ya takin’ it easy,” he confirmed, ducking his head in embarrassment. “I didn’t wanna be overbearin’, but ya really wanted to help out with everythin’ and the thought of somethin’ goin’ wrong ‘cause of all the hard work we have to do was too much for me to handle. M’sorry.”

You gently grabbed Daryl’s hand, bringing it up to softly kiss his knuckles. “Why are you sorry? For not wanting anything to happen to me or our baby? You don’t have anything to apologize for. If anything, I should be apologizing.”

“For what?” Daryl asked confusedly, intertwining your fingers with his.

“For being so adamant about working. I just... I didn’t want to feel useless. I didn’t want to feel like a burden because I couldn’t help out.”

Daryl’s eyebrows furrowed, his lips pressing together tightly. “Yer not a burden. Dun’ ever think that. Yer carryin’ a life in yer belly, and that’s takin’ up most of yer energy and time. If anybody has a problem with the fact that ya can’t work as hard as ya used to for the next few months ‘cause yer pregnant, let me know and I’ll beat their ass.”

You smiled at him and pressed a kiss to his lips. When you pulled back, you could feel tears starting to form in your eyes. Daryl noticed it and frowned, concern lacing his voice.

“What’s wrong?” he asked frantically, bringing his hands up to cup your cheeks gently. He wiped away the tears that fell with his thumb.

“Hormones,” you said simply, laughing through your tears. “I don’t even really know why I’m crying.”

“C’mere,” Daryl said, wrapping his arms around you and guiding you to lay your head down on his chest. You shifted your body until your were comfortable, wrapping your arms around him as you listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Daryl’s arms wrapped around you, one of his hands venturing down to your baby bump. He gently started to caress your stomach, his hand’s soft movements making you sleepy almost instantly.

“M’sorry for bein’ so overprotective,” Daryl voiced after a few moments of silence, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

“And I’m sorry for being so stubborn. I promise I’ll be more careful and take it easier from now on,” you promised, nuzzling your head deeper into his chest.

“Thank god,” he sighed in relief. “Any more of yer stubbornness and I would’a been forced to lock ya in the house whenever there was work to do.”

You laughed and lightly hit one of his arms that were wrapped around you, eliciting a chuckle from the archer. “I love you,” you mumbled into his chest.

“I love ya too,” he responded, placing another kiss on your head. "Now get some more rest. I'll be right here when ya wake up.”

You nodded against his chest and closed your eyes, listening to his heartbeat, your own personal lullaby. As your eyes drifted closed for the second time that day, you swore you could hear Daryl start to hum a song. A song you’ve been singing to your baby in your stomach since you found out you were pregnant.

You are my sunshine.

A smile formed on your face as Daryl lowly continued to hum the song, his hand still gently caressing your stomach. With the gentle caress of his hand, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the song he was humming, you soon drifted into slumber, safe in your archer’s arms.

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musicallisto · 1 month ago

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Could I please please please ask for a lil thing about Lewis comforting his partner when they’re feeling insecure 🥺 👉🏻👈🏻

· · · · ♡ PRE-SEASON JITTERS (lh44)

… starring lewis hamilton x gn!reader (and roscoe !!)

... 1.4k words

... in which the bleak pre-season period has you feeling all sorts of anxious, but a homemade meal and affection from your favorite person (and dog!) could be just the thing you need.

... i love this request and I think we could all use a little bit of lewis reassurance every now and then 🥹 let's all forget this horrendous weekend for him btw

The pitter-patter of Roscoe's claws on the linoleum floors is what reveals your presence first. Slumbering in the kitchen amidst the fumes from the extractor hood, the bulldog suddenly straightens up, stares at the front door, ears pricked up for no apparent reason, and disappears into the hallway with a snort. That's when Lewis knows he has to set the table, add pepper to the risotto. He's not the best cook, and usually the private chef would be in charge of dinner... but in the week preceding each new season, the British driver prefers to keep his evenings and his hands busy.

Your steps are heavy, keys turning in the door laboriously—"Hi Roscoe, oh, you're a sleepy boy, aren't you?" faint between huffs and puffs. Lewis can read you like an open book after so many years: it's not just the bleak mid-February evening weighing you down.

You've had a shit day.

"Hi, Lew," you sigh as you step into the kitchen to wash your hands, something like weary relief peeking from your tone.

"Hi, love." In the cozy penthouse lights, your tense figure and slumped shoulders look out of place, too harrowed to belong in this neat space that the London night outside can't traverse. "I made dinner, nothing too fancy, sorry, but..."

"It's perfect," you cut him off gently, with those shiny eyes he adores so much, eyes that only ever seem to catch his light and nothing else's. A quick peck to his cheek unravels your twisted face a little more. "Wish it were pre-season jitters every week."

"I don't," he chuckles, the sound vibrating against your shoulder like a gentle caress. "Poor Bono's going to have a heart attack any day now... you'd think we haven't done this ten times over already."

Dinner is a ritual, almost a sacralized place for Lewis and you—and Roscoe, wagging his tail back and forth between your legs to see what he can puppy-look his humans into slipping him underneath the table. And it works, Lewis never having been one to resist him for long; Roscoe licks his chops with each mushroom he eagerly steals from the driver's fingers. Easy conversation turns into soft jokes and his latest media duty drama, your favorite to dissect after a long day... but he notices the spark in your smile doesn't reach your eyes, and your mouth contorts into a downtrodden pout when he leans over to scratch the top of Roscoe's big head.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asks in earnest, and as long as you don't meet those big, soulful brown eyes, you know you can get through the conversation without crumbling.

"Yeah, I'm just a little tired-"

"No," he shakes his head, smiling ever so slightly, as his hand reaches out to cradle your fingers on the table. "Come on, I know you by heart. I know you're upset. You know you can tell me everything that's on your mind, right?"

Moonlight filters through the large glass windows, mixing with the ceiling light's warm glow and casting a hundred different hues on your cheeks—fractals of white and gold softening the blacks of your eye bags. Lewis aches to see you so—gorgeous and exhausted, yet unwaveringly surrendered to him, willing to crash headfirst into his safe haven. His hand clasps yours at the same time as Roscoe rests a warm, heavy head on your lap.

"It's just... this stupid thing at work. I'm so... behind on everything, and there's this new guy who's always being passive-aggressive towards me in front of our boss, and he's a fucking idiot but—everyone loves him and his ideas, and I feel like no one... appreciates anything I do or even just values my presence, and..." Quivers in your voice you barely control anymore. "And also, you're gonna be leaving next week and I hate it so much when you're gone because then I feel sad but being sad makes me feel like a big burden to you because you're supposed to be focusing on racing and not... not babysitting me or listening to me drag you down, and then I—"

"Hey," he interrupts before your tirade degenerates, and you almost don't notice him getting up from his chair, shapes moving beyond the blurry veil of your eyelashes.

You rush to wipe them; in the blink of an eye he's there, with a gentle hand on your shoulder; its weight grounds you, much like Roscoe's chin pressing a little deeper against your thigh. As if sensing your distress.

"I think you may be getting into your own head a little. Don't you think?"

He speaks softly, but nothing paternalistic; a conciliatory hum that echoes the steady purring of the washing machine, and down below, all these cars full of people headed back to their own little warm huts. Words don't come to your tongue, blocked by the acerbic shame that bubbles in the pit of your throat—how many times must you fall to pieces over nothing in front of him like this? Instead, you shake your head, and that's good enough for him.

"You're not a burden, love."

You've heard it before, from unremarkable social media influencers and good-natured friends, but it's only when Lewis says it, with the perfect balance of pragmatism and warmth, that you truly let the meaning seep in.

"Not now, and not ever. I listen to you because I choose to listen to you, because I want to be there for you. And about work—look at it this way. Do you really think they'd keep you around if you contributed nothing? I know I'd get axed."

You laugh despite yourself, which Roscoe takes as a sign that the sudden sour mood is gone and everyone's attention will soon return to the food if the content little yelp he lets out is any indication.

"No one would ever axe you, Lew, you can't be bothered to do media day like every other week and have never been told anything. But I'm not a seven-time world champion of anything."

"You don't need to!" he chuckles too, raising his hands in mock innocence. "I'm just being realistic here. You're valued. You really do matter. Who do you trust more, some pathetic high school bully or a seven-time world champion?"

"You just want me to stroke your ego," you retort, rolling your eyes, though a small smile creeps on you lips when Lewis leans even closer, eye to eye with you.

"Well you brought it up first, and I can't exactly help being the greatest at what I do."

"Shut up," more giggles escape through your pursed lips.

Lewis' eyes crinkle a little brighter with each of your chuckles, but his grin fades into tenderness when he kisses your forehead. As he pulls back, his features are more relaxed, more quiet, but no less expressive for all that.

"Whenever I start beating myself up after a particularly shit weekend, you always tell me you wish I could see myself through your eyes, right? How admirable it is that I always give it my all, and that I always strive to be the best I possibly can? Well, that goes both ways. You get all caught up in your own head and don't realize how people see you... but I love you, and I do. From outside your head," he ends with a playful tap to the tip of your nose, where a few gleaming tears have dug a bed.

Your fingers intertwine with his out of habit, without really thinking about it, and you lean into his side just as his arms close around your frame, one hand cradling the back of your head. It's indescribable, the tranquility that overwhelms you whenever you're in Lewis' arms, like his strong heart is enough to numb all your aching nerves and wounds.

Time can't pass slow enough in his comforting embrace... much to Roscoe's dismay.

"Oh, sorry, big boy, you must be starving," Lewis laughs at the bulldog's disgruntled bark, "it's been at least ten minutes since you last ate anything..."

You ruffle Roscoe's thick neck as he nonchalantly trots behind Lewis and the treats he always smells on his clothes; though the dog's attention is too captivated by the prospect of food to pay you much attention now, you swear he rubs up against your leg like an approximative hug. Blinking away the last tears, you take in the domestic scene, Lewis mumbling sweet nothings to his waddling companion, the familiar sound of his food bowl scraping against the floor.

At least you do hold some significance in your small corner of London, you think. In between these walls, in the depths of their hearts—hearts that have, somewhat and somehow, chosen you. And it won't be easy to understand just yet... but at least, for now, it will be enough to treasure.

... f1 taglist; @retvenkos @giuseppe-yuki (want to be added? send me an ask!)

#f1 #f1 x reader #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton fluff #mywriting

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loupy-mongoose · 9 months ago

Text

Lil speech guide: Randy's speech Jamie's speech (Pokespeak will be in parentheses.)

It got pretty long, so under the Bar it goes!

PREVIOUS NEXT

~~~~~~

Jamie, the Gardevoir, and the three Lindens stood locked in tense silence. Randy fought to string together an explanation that wouldn't give away too much, while also trying to gauge Akoya's stance.

Jamie was the first to break the silence. Her expression hardened, her eyes displaying a sharp fury. Well? I'm not letting you a step further until I know it's not a threat.

The pointed stick in her hand lowered to point toward the family, and her authoritative tone chilled Randy. She meant business, which didn't help ease the man's racing mind.

Akoya answered before Randy could, her voice a bit too defensive in his opinion. It's none of your business what's in our bag. It's stuff for travel! What's wrong with that?!

Jamie clearly didn't believe her for a second. Her icy eyes bore into the white haired visitor. I won't tolerate a threat at my home. Tell me what's in there, or you WILL leave. Her eyes flashed ominously. Or worse.

Feeling a wave of protectiveness, Randy shuffled to stand in front of Akoya and Lavender. He hoped they couldn't feel the surge of utter dread that coursed through his body.

Listen, Jamie. He tried to keep his voice low, level, and non-threatening. What's in that bag is very precious to us, and we can't show you out here where others might see it. If we can go somewhere private, then maybe we can work something out.

He felt the sharp jab of Akoya's disapproval from behind him. Between her and the protesting red-head in front of them, he felt his resolve being wringed out of him.

Jamie stood still, her glare unwavering. After a moment, her head lifted slightly as she addressed their Pokemon company in an strong bark. (Darren, Sheila, Percy, please hide us with your wings.)

Percy and Darren gave startled, bewildered looks, while Sheila tilted her head and chuffed questioningly. But they did as she asked, reaching out to their widest wingspans, touching tip-to-tip with each other.

The Lindens hesitantly shuffled to adjust their positions as their space shrank.

There. Jamie eyed them all closely You wanted somewhere private; this is it. If you still won't show me, you'll have to leave.

Randy and Akoya glanced nervously at each other.

What could be done?

They came to a silent agreement.

Akoya turned back to Jamie, giving her a glare that verged on desperation. We're showing you because you forced our hand. NOT because we trust you. If you try anything...

To Randy's surprise, he caught a falter in Jamie's resolve, and something changed. A new expression slipped into her demeanor, if only barely.

Curiosity.

The look on Jamie's face turned from shock to determination.

Swiftly she addressed her three winged Pokemon. (Spread the word; we need to find a little pink Mew with blue accents. It is to be brought back to these three safely and secretly.)

The three beasts nodded in sincerity and took off.

Persim poked his head of of the bag, his face etched in horror, while Momo was shrieking. Stay in there for now, Perzi. Randy's voice was shaky, but reassuring. We'll handle it. Could you please try to calm Momo down?

The orange feline nodded uncertainly and ducked back into the bag. Randy saw a green bubble form in it as he zipped it shut. Momo's screams went quiet, but he knew it was just contained by the bubble. Poor Persim...

The red-headed girl looked solemnly at the devastated family, her expression softer than any of them had seen from her yet. I'm truly sorry about that... I promise you all, this is the best place for a Pokemon like them to be lost at. There will be lots of good Pokemon looking for them, and any humans will be curious at worst. It might scare them, but nobody will hurt them.

I would've done things differently if I'd known they were in there...

Akoya gave up looking nearby for her son and took a breath. She turned to Jamie, for once without venom. Listen, Jamie, with all due respect, we'll be able to find him easier than your little... network, or whatever you have here. He's gotta be terrified! He might just keep teleporting away if strangers find him, human or Pokemon...

Jamie folded her arms with a hesitant nod. You're free to search too, if you think so. Maybe you're right, and he'll only show for you guys. But if anyone spots him, I'll hear of it, so I'd best stick with you.

Akoya gave an uncertain look and opened her mouth to speak. But, feeling her about to protest, Randy interrupted her. We can talk later. Let's go find Midas.

~~~~~~

PREVIOUS NEXT

New skill acquired~

And just for the fun of it, I'm uh... gonna share some of the (very) rough sketches I did for this part, because I find them hilarious.

Luna (my cat) randomly decided to leave the comfort of her cat tower to come lay on my arm. The trouble was, it was my drawing arm. So I made due. XD

#Linden Roots #art #comic #writing #full #babbies #mite #she's there too #Just not visible.#She's doing her thing and hiding in the floof.#I'm sure Jamie's gonna have a fun time meeting her~ :)

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chvoswxtch · 1 year ago

Text

stakeout

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: going on a stakeout with frank doesn't go anything like you thought it would.

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of guns, a lil steam ;)

word count: 9k

a/n: fun fact: I originally started writing this specific idea as a standalone fic months ago & then when i started doing this series, i knew it would be perfect for it, & i've been excited to finish it & share it with y'all ever since. grab a snack & a drink, get comfy, bc this is almost 30 pages of yearning & pining for our favorite soft bad boy frankie. thank you so much to my darling angel @spoodermain for being my wonderful beta reader & offering your genius feedback that really made this part shine. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

[previous chapter] | [next chapter] | [series masterlist]

How you had managed to talk Frank into letting you join a stakeout with him, you still weren’t sure, but it was nothing like you thought it would be. The entire three hour drive upstate was nearly composed of pure silence, only interrupted by trivial questions on your behalf, and answers in the form of monosyllables and grunts on his. The two of you had been sitting in his truck for almost six hours now, parked off on the side of a dirt road a good distance away from what looked like an abandoned warehouse that you hadn’t seen anyone enter or leave from.

You were going absolutely fucking stir crazy.

“Why can't we just go in?”

Frank let out a deep exhale through his nose, glancing over at you out of the corner of his eye in pure annoyance before returning his attentive gaze back to the warehouse.

In his defense, you had asked this question at least five times already.

Letting out an impatient sigh of your own, you turned your body slightly in the passenger seat to face him while gesturing loosely to the warehouse with your hand.

“Frank, we haven't seen anyone in hours. We could go in, take a look around, and probably be back before anyone even-”

“Hey hey, no. Ain’t no we. Alright, you’re stayin’ your ass right here. And I already told you why. It’s too out in the open. I got no way of knowin’ if there’s anyone in there watchin’, and I can’t tell if they got some kind of security system ‘round the place-”

“So call Billy. See if he knows-”

“Bill ain’t the head of security for the entire goddamn world.”

Frank’s snappy quips and his irritated tone had you throwing your hands up in exasperation, and you dramatically sank back into the passenger seat of his truck, glaring out your window as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Fine. Then I guess we’ll just keep sitting here in fucking silence and you can keep brooding.”

Frank let out another heavy exhale from deep within his chest, and you could practically feel his intense stare against the side of your face.

“Look, I know this ain’t the most excitin’ thing, and you can’t sit still to save your goddamn life, but this is how we do this smart, and it’s how I keep you safe, alright? I ain’t takin’ any risks with you. I know patience ain’t your strong suit, but I need ya to try for just a little longer, alright? We don’t see any movement in the next hour, we’ll call it, and try again tomorrow. See if we can come up with another plan. Yeah?”

“Fine.”

Frank let out a tiny chuckle at your bratty response, and all of a sudden you felt something land in your lap. You glanced downwards as a crease formed between your brows, seeing an extra large version of your favorite candy bar. When your eyes flickered over towards Frank in curiosity, you noticed that he was already eyeing you with an amused smile. He shook his head slowly, returning his line of sight to the warehouse with another soft chuckle.

“Eat that and quit poutin’.”

A light scoff left your lips when you picked up the candybar and tore open the wrapper, suddenly noticing the way that you had been ignoring your body’s alerts of hunger.

“I’m not pouting.”

“Whatever ya say, sweetheart. Just remember, you asked to come along.”

“And you let me.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as Frank shook his head again in response to the pure sass dripping from your voice, and you caught the way the edge of his mouth tugged higher upwards into a wider grin.

“Thought this would be the one time you were quiet for some reason.”

Letting out a dramatic scoff of bewilderment, you reached out to smack your palm against his broad shoulder, which only caused laughter to bellow from deep within Frank’s chest. You doubt he even felt your feeble smack through the black denim layer of his jacket. Rolling your eyes playfully, you looked away with a tiny victorious grin after noticing the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed like that.

He looked so carefree; like that usual heaviness he carried around wasn’t weighing him down, just for that small moment. Frank had such a beautiful smile, and it made you feel like the luckiest person in the world every time you got to witness it.

Taking a small bite of your candybar, you muttered under your breath, making him snicker.

“Asshole.”

»»———　　———««

Forty five minutes later, a police car silently pulled up behind Frank’s truck, and your heart started to hammer wildly in your chest. The flashing of bright red and blue was almost blinding in the opaque darkness surrounding the empty dirt road he had pulled onto. The truck was parked far enough away from the property that the flashing lights shouldn’t have alerted anyone that could be inside, but the explanation as to why the two of you were here in the first place was a whole other problem.

Especially considering that you were technically “missing”.

“Shit.”

Frank hissed quietly as he stared at the patrol car in the side view mirror, his full lips settling into a hard line as he reached underneath his seat to retrieve a pistol that was hidden. Your eyes immediately widened as the silver metal became illuminated by the faint moonlight, and you glanced frantically between Frank’s stoic face and the cop car in the rearview mirror.

“What are you doing?”

Frank hastily brought his index finger to his lips when you whisper-yelled at him.

“Preparin’ for a problem.”

Frank’s eyes remained narrowed on the reflection in the side view mirror as he pulled the hammer back on the pistol, the sound of it cocking in place only fueling the speed of your tumultuous heart rate.

“Put it away!”

Scrunching up his dark brows, Frank turned his head slightly to stare at you incredulously as if you had just said the most ridiculous statement in the history of the English language.

“What?”

“Frank-”

“You got a better goddamn idea?”

Great. You’re not even supposed to be here, and now you’re about to either go to prison or die in a shootout.

Your eyes frantically searched around Frank’s truck for something that could help the two of you out. As Frank rested the gun against his chest with a firm grip on the handle and his index finger pressed along the barrel, an idea suddenly popped into your head that made your stomach flip.

“Put it away.”

Frank turned his head and stared at you curiously when he heard the firm tone of your voice, but his confusion quickly morphed into pure annoyance. He scoffed, opening his mouth to protest before you turned in your seat to face him.

“You asked if I had a better idea and I do.”

Frank stared you down for what felt like an eternity. His features were set in a harsher version of their normal broody appearance, and the hardness in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine. A muscle feathered in his jaw as he ground his teeth, stealing one last glance at the side view mirror before stashing the pistol back underneath the seat, grumbling a string of curses under his breath.

“Now what? What’s this grand fuckin’ plan of yours, huh?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the door to the patrol car swing open. Quickly dashing across the truck bench, you ungracefully climbed onto Frank’s lap. His entire body immediately went rigid, and he looked absolutely stunned as he stared into your eyes.

“What-”

Before he could finish his sentence, you grabbed onto the back of his neck and leaned in to firmly press your lips against his. Frank stilled completely beneath you for a good thirty seconds, and you could feel the tension practically radiating from his body. You started to worry that maybe you should have at least given him a snippet of your plan before-oh.

Oh.

A warmth suddenly spread across your thighs and it took a second for your brain to register that it was from Frank’s hands. They experimentally roamed up the expanse of your thighs until they slowly climbed up your hips, settling on your waist in a firm but delicate grip. All the previous anxiety that was buzzing in your veins seemed to be drowned out by the sensation of the tender pace of his lips finally responding to your chaste kiss.

God, his lips were as soft as they looked, and so warm. There was a bitterness to the way he tasted from the copious amounts of freshly brewed black coffee he had consumed, but it was cut through by lingering sweet mint from the gum he had spat out earlier.

The gentleness of his touch and his uncertain kiss was surprising for someone who was so rough in so many other aspects of their life. You couldn’t help but grab a small fistful of the collar of his gray henley while you melted into his strong chest, your fingernails lightly scratching at the back of his neck with your other hand, holding him as close as physically possible. A low groan sounded quietly in the back of Frank’s throat when you dragged your nails against his skin, and it traveled straight to your-

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Jumping at the sudden intrusion of noise, you turned your head to see a young officer staring between you and Frank awkwardly, the end of his flashlight hovering over the glass of the driver’s side window. When the window was slowly rolled down, the seriousness of the previous situation broke through the haze of lust you had found yourself in, and you suddenly remembered why you were in Frank’s lap in the first place. Before you could scramble out an explanation, Frank’s rough voice cut through the timid silence and startled you.

“What?”

The young officer jumped backwards immediately from the way Frank practically barked at him, and you turned your head to stare at him in surprise. His chest was rising and falling quickly, his thick brows were knit together in pure frustration, and you could see that familiar flame of rage burning in his eyes.

He looked pissed.

Looking back at the officer, you let out a nervous laugh as you pressed your palm flat against Frank’s chest in an attempt to calm him, flashing the young man a soft smile.

“I’m sorry, is…is there a problem?”

He gulped as his eyes flickered from Frank’s unwavering hardened glare to you, nodding slowly as he uncomfortably gestured behind himself with his thumb.

“I…sorry to uh…interrupt. It’s just…well…this is private property. You’re…technically trespassing.”

Hearing the aggravated grunt that sounded from Frank as he opened his mouth to speak, you quickly covered his mouth with your small palm and let out another nervous laugh, trying to keep the officer’s attention on you.

“I’m very sorry, that’s um…that’s my fault. It’s…it’s our first night with a babysitter so, we got a little…carried away. I’m sure you can understand?”

There was a hopeful tone to your voice as your lips parted into the most convincing charming smile you could muster at the moment, hoping he would take the bait so that you and Frank could leave without a scene being caused. When the young man’s lips parted into a light smile, you felt a sense of ease wash over you.

“Of course, I can definitely…understand.”

But that ease was short lived when you caught where his line of sight went, and felt Frank’s grip on your waist tighten possessively.

As the young officer spoke those words, he made the mistake of letting his eyes wander over your chest in a shameless way, and you panicked when you felt Frank lean forward, reaching with one hand underneath his seat while also shielding your chest from the man’s prying eyes with his large body.

“The fuck are you lookin’ at?”

The officer instantly took another large step back, holding his hands up in surrender and mumbling a string of apologies as Frank started going off on him, reaching for the handle to the door. You quickly grabbed his jaw in your hand and forced him to look at you, staring into his furious glare with wide eyes as you whispered frantically through gritted teeth.

“Frank, stop it.”

Glancing back over at the young man, you let out a soft laugh as you waved your shaky hand dismissively.

“I’m really sorry, we’ll just…leave. We’ll leave. Have a good night.”

Quickly rolling up the window, you scurried back into the passenger seat and swiftly put your seatbelt on. When Frank didn’t move an inch, you turned your head to look at him, seeing a twisted up concoction of anger and confusion on his features. You hysterically gestured towards the steering wheel as you gawked at him.

“What are you doing? Drive!”

Frank’s jaw hardened as he let out a heavy grunt, turning the keys in the ignition and flashing the officer one final death glare before peeling off onto the dirt road in the opposite direction. Once the patrol car was out of sight, you let out a deep breath of relief and held your face in your trembling hands as you tried to calm your nerves.

Your mind was racing with all the worst possible case scenarios. What if that officer was with the Defenders of Freedom too? Is that why he was on that road? Did he get Frank’s license plate? Is he telling the others that the two of you found their base of operations? What would-

“That was good quick thinkin’.”

Frank’s gravely voice cutting through the silence made you realize that neither of you had spoken in the past ten minutes. Turning your head to look over at him, your brows knit together in puzzlement.

“What?”

Frank’s eyes darted over to you timidly, only for a moment, before settling back on the road in front of him.

“Your…plan.”

His voice sounded somewhat strained, and you noticed his features were blanketed in an expression you couldn’t fully make out from the faint glow of the street lights. He almost looked…shy?

Shy was not a word you would ever normally use to describe Frank Castle.

There was suddenly a feeling of heat nipping at the tops of your cheeks, and you were swiftly aware of the lingering sensation of your lips tingling from the kiss.

Is that why he couldn’t hardly look at you?

“Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable.”

Frank arched one of his thick brows as his eyes flickered back over towards you once again, his full lips pursing slightly as he nodded.

“Yeah…I s’pose they do.”

There was a layer of questioning in his tone, and you leaned back in your seat as you looked anywhere but at him while clearing your throat.

“It usually makes people look away, or want to get as far away from it as soon as possible.”

A quiet grunt of agreeance sounded in the back of Frank’s throat.

“That’s…smart.”

An uncomfortable silence settled between you and Frank, and the small unoccupied space in the middle of the truck bed suddenly felt like an ocean separating the two of you. Tension hung thick and heavy in the miniscule space of the cab like an awkward fog that you couldn’t have even sliced through with the sharpened hunter’s knife on Frank’s hip.

For the next half hour, the quiet thrum of the truck engine was the only sound disrupting the tense silence.

»»———　　———««

Stepping past Frank’s large frame into the motel room he had rented for the night, your eyes immediately landed on the bed in the middle of the room.

The bed.

The one.

Single.

Bed.

Glancing over your shoulder at Frank, he caught where your gaze had gone, and there was a sheepish expression on his face.

“Last room they had.”

Doing your best to appear nonchalant about the situation, you gave a slight nod of your head in understanding as you surveyed the room. The dingy wallpaper was beyond faded and peeling where the torn edges pulled away from the top of the wall. What had once probably been a tasteful shade of tan looked more like a muted shade of gold. The queen size bed in the middle of the room was covered in a multi-shade paisley quilt that the word ‘ugly’ couldn’t even begin to describe, and contrasted sharply with the hunter green carpet beneath your feet.

“You didn’t make a reservation?”

The joke you attempted to make to lighten the mood fell flat as Frank eyed you with an unreadable expression, dropping his black duffle bag onto the floor with a slight thud.

“Wasn’t expectin’ company. It ain’t the Ritz, but-”

“Frank, it’s fine. I was joking.”

“Right.”

The uncomfortable silence and awkward tension were absolutely killing you.

Things had never been this weird with Frank, and you didn’t know what to do with yourself. So you did the one thing you always did when you didn’t want to deal with an unpleasant situation.

You ran away from it.

“I’m gonna take a shower.”

About halfway through rushing towards the bathroom, you abruptly halted in your steps when you realized that you couldn’t shower because you didn’t have anything. You had slept at Frank’s last night, and you couldn’t go by your place this morning since it was an active crime scene.

You had no clothes. No toothbrush. No nothing.

“Shit.”

“You alright?”

There was a cautious tone to Frank’s deep voice, but it was clearly laced with concern when it nestled in your ears. You turned around to face him, your lips pulled into a tight expression that was supposed to resemble a smile, but probably looked more like a grimace.

“I just realized I don’t have anything.”

Frank cocked his head to the side slightly while he looked over at you, curiosity and confusion swirling around in his deep brown eyes.

“We couldn’t stop by my place this morning…and we left kinda in a hurry…so…”

All of a sudden you could see realization dawning on Frank’s face. His features softened considerably, and he quickly glanced at the small analog clock on the nightstand by the bed. It was late, and you were nearly in the middle of nowhere in some small town upstate about twenty miles from the location Frank had been given. There was nothing around the motel except a rundown gas station and a little twenty-four hour diner.

Frank turned his attention back to you, and his dark eyes wandered over you for a second before he met your gaze again. There was an apologetic expression on his features as he reached down to grab his duffle bag, walking over to set it down on the edge of the bed while he unzipped it and started to rustle through it.

“Here, I got some stuff you can borrow-”

“It’s okay. I can just-”

“Ain’t a big deal. I got extras of some things. Can’t promise anythin’ will fit or smell pretty.”

Frank glanced up to flash you a tiny smile as he held out a small pile of things towards you. As you reached out to take the items from him, your fingers lightly brushed against his, and you felt a spark shock through your system. Looking up at him, your lips tugged into a tight timid smile while you nodded.

“Thanks, Frank.”

Without waiting for a response, you dashed into the small bathroom for some privacy, hoping you’d be able to get yourself the fuck together.

Any attempt you were going to make to try to push that kiss from earlier out of your head was completely ruined when you began to lather his body wash in your hands to rub it into your wet skin, being careful to avoid getting any suds in your hurt hand, and comb it through your hair, since Frank was apparently a two in one kind of guy. Even though the temperature of the water was a degree short of scalding, the areas of your body that had been caressed by Frank’s large hands burned hotter.

He had touched you, really touched you, beyond the point of just trying to sell your distraction. He didn’t have to kiss you back the way he had. He could’ve just let his lips stay modestly pressed to yours until the officer walked up.

But Frank seemed to have lost himself in the kiss just as much as you had.

So why was he acting so strange now? If he wanted that kiss as much as you did, why was he acting more reserved with you now than he ever had before? Was his perceived passion blown out of proportion by your greedy and selfish imagination?

Or did he simply regret it?

The whirlwind of questions and convoluted doubt only got worse when you slipped his clothes on.

His clothes.

Frank had given you a long sleeve black t-shirt that was ridiculously soft and comfortable. You had recalled seeing him wear it on several occasions. While it fit him snugly, the sleeves hung comically off your hands, and the bottom of it reached the middle of your thighs. Your eyes had momentarily widened seeing that he had given you a pair of his black briefs, but they fit you somewhat better than the sweatpants he had offered.

It felt strangely intimate to be in Frank’s clothes. Granted, wearing someone else’s underwear is kind of intimate, but it also made you feel…comforted in an odd way. You were completely doused head to toe in the familiar scent of Frank, and that made you feel safe in a way that you had only ever felt with him.

When you stepped out of the steamy bathroom, Frank was sitting on the edge of the bed with his phone in his hand, staring down at it intently. He perked up when he heard the bathroom door creak open, and his eyes instantly snapped over to look over at you. His dark brown eyes roamed slowly over the sight of you in his clothes, and when he finally met your gaze, there was a look there you hadn’t seen before.

But it made your knees weak.

Trying to dispel the thick layer of tension in the air, you cleared your throat as you slowly walked over towards him and handed the pair of sweatpants back with a soft smile on your lips.

“I gave them my best shot.”

Frank’s eyes softened slightly and he let out a light chuckle, taking the sweats from you to place into his own lap.

“Everythin’ else work alright?”

“Yeah…yeah, um…thank you.”

“Sure. We’ll find a store first thing in the mornin’, get ya some stuff. How’s the hand?”

Frank held one of his large hands out towards you expectantly, and without even thinking, you placed your injured one on top of his.

“It’s fine. I wrapped it.”

He pushed back the sleeve past your wrist to inspect your handiwork, delicately turning your wrist from left to right to examine the placement and tightness of the layers of gauze covering your wounded palm and fingers. He made a subtle expression of pride, his dark eyes flickering up to meet yours with a nod of approval.

“Not bad.”

“I had a good teacher.”

Frank looked up at you with slightly raised brows, and then a quirk of a smile curled at the edge of his lips when it clicked that you had learned by watching him tend to your hand last night.

“S’pose you did.”

When Frank let go of your hand and rose from the bed, he moved to step around you, and you watched him toe off his boots by the door before starting to rummage through his duffle bag again. He had ditched his black denim jacket, and it looked like his shirt was straining against the expanse of his large back. When your eyes wandered upwards, your breath caught in your throat seeing a faint pink vertical line on the back of his neck.

The one you had left with your nails.

A surge of heat instantly spread across the tops of your cheeks, and between your thighs, as the phantom touch of Frank’s firm grasp on your waist burned once again on your skin. You had fantasized so many times about sitting on Frank’s lap and kissing him like that, but your imagination could never compare to the real thing. Your lips started to tingle again at the memory of his warm and soft lips responding eagerly to your kiss, and your ears rang loudly with the echo of his low groan that had sounded in his throat.

You were all of a sudden painfully aware of the fact that you were getting wet in Frank’s underwear.

You had never been so affected just from kissing someone before. Not even when you made out with a boy for the first time. Or…any boy you made out with for that matter.

Hell, Steven couldn’t even get you that worked up with his hand in your panties and detailed fucking instructions.

But Frank…Frank just drove you absolutely fucking wild.

“What happens now?”

Frank turned his head to look at you over his broad shoulder when your soft voice cut through the stillness. You could hear the faint desperation in your own voice, and you knew it heard it too. Frank never missed anything. There was a hesitancy to his features, and irresolution swimming around in his eyes, like he wasn’t sure what exactly you were referring to.

What happens with the investigation?

What happens tomorrow?

What happens next with us, Frank?

Frank carefully turned around to face you fully, and while his face appeared neutral, there was something glowing in his eyes.

“With what?”

His words were laced with pure curiosity, but there was a coveted challenge concealed within them. You didn’t have the courage to ask the question you really wanted the answer to, and you had a feeling Frank wouldn’t answer it unless he was prompted. Even then, there was a good chance he would avoid it. A sobering thought washed over you that you might not be prepared for that answer anyway, so you decided to play it safe.

“Well…we can’t go back there, right?”

Frank’s lips pursed into a somewhat thin line. He almost looked like he was disappointed by your choice of question. His pensive eyes studied you silently for a moment before clutching that same pair of sweatpants he had offered you in his large hand and stalking off towards the bathroom.

“I’ll figure somethin’ out.”

When the door to the bathroom firmly shut, you flopped back onto the stiff mattress with a heavy sigh and closed your eyes.

It was going to be a very long night.

These sleepovers with Frank were not going the way you had fantasized about previously at all.

»»———　　———««

Ten minutes later, Frank quietly emerged from the bathroom, and your eyes doubled in size as your jaw nearly became fully unhinged. The dark gray pair of sweatpants that he had offered you were slung dangerously low on his hips, and a delicious white sliver of the waistband of his briefs were peeking out above them. His cropped dark hair was tousled in damp curls, and droplets of warm water cascaded down the expanse of his lean and toned figure. Frank’s skin looked so smooth, like an exemplary chiseled piece of artwork carved into tan marble; a Greek god perfectly immortalized in impenetrable stone.

Your rapacious eyes were particularly interested in a droplet that was leisurely making its way down one of his deep cut v-lines, only to become absorbed by the fabric of his sweats. While you were marveling at the view of the unveiled Adonis before you, a sight abruptly caught your attention.

There was a faint pink scar above his right hip.

In an instant, you were no longer staring at him through cherry tinted lenses of desire, but with a slight pang of sadness cutting through your chest. There were numerous scars marked on Frank’s body. Some were faded, nearly blending in with his normal flesh tone, while some were opaque, a clear striking contrast of pain endured in comparison to the untainted color of skin that had never known affliction. Some were deep indentations nestled in his skin, almost to the bone, while others casually crested above the sea level of undisrupted ripples of flesh.

“I was a Marine.”

Frank’s deep voice cutting through the silence of the motel room swiftly redirected your line of sight to his face. He had a gray tank top in his large hands, and he subtly seemed to be wringing it with a twinge of nervousness. There was an unrestrained expression of aversion in his eyes, as if he didn’t know whether to hide the evidence of an unforgiving past, or allow you to consume this rare moment of vulnerability completely.

For a moment your eyes dropped to the chain around his neck.

The gold wedding band.

You hadn’t seen a glimpse of it since that night at the bar, when you’d caught sight of him in your guest bathroom with a few of his shirt buttons undone. You still didn’t know if it was his or if it had belonged to his wife, or what happened to her, but it was hard to look at now.

You didn’t like seeing him look so uncomfortable, so you did your best to put him at ease with a tender smile on your lips as you looked up at him in genuine understanding and grace.

“That…actually makes a lot of sense.”

Frank glanced down at the shirt in his hands for a moment, an apparition of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as a dry and short chuckle escaped his mouth.

“I’ll try not to take offense to that.”

The elusive, light-hearted tone of his voice made you wonder if you could try to dismantle at least one of the many walls that he seemed to have up within him. You didn’t want to pry too much, but you’d had so many questions about Frank for months, and it seemed like he was finally giving you a rare window to get a few answers.

“Is…is that where those came from?”

“Most of ‘em.”

Frank kept his gaze averted downwards on the shirt in his hand as he spoke in a hushed tone, like his admissions couldn’t be uttered above a certain decibel level. It almost appeared as though it was easier for him to be vulnerable with you if he didn’t have to look at you.

Was he nervous to see your reaction to his rare divulgence? Or was there something lurking in the shadows of history that he couldn’t face?

Was he thinking about your lips as much as you were thinking about his?

You had to focus. You weren’t sure how grand or miniscule this window of opportunity was with Frank. This moment could be just as magnificently fleeting as a shooting star escaping across the cosmos, and if you blinked at the wrong second, you would miss it.

This could be your one chance to finally break through those meticulously crafted barriers of his. To unravel the chains of mystery that seemed to weigh him down, and finally erase that invisible line separating him from everyone else that he never seemed to let you cross.

But, you couldn’t push too hard. If your curiosity was too intrusive, he’d immediately shut down. If you misstepped over the delicate minefield of his own temper, you risked an explosion. It had to be the most graceful balancing act you’d ever done.

You had to treat this like the most important story of your entire career. Carefully pose the questions as innocent conversation, instead of an interrogation, and give him the space to answer as generally or as detailed as he wanted to.

Billy’s advice seemed to echo in your ears at that moment.

You gotta let him come to you.

“How long were you in the Marines?”

“Did four tours.”

When you didn’t speak for a moment, Frank finally lifted his head to meet your gaze. There was a twinkle of amusement shining in his warm brown eyes at your evident confusion, and he let out a light chuckle as a crooked smile tugged across his lips.

“All in all, little over ten years.”

A faint blush layered over the tops of your cheeks at your own ignorance. Normally when you interviewed someone, you had the benefit of being able to research them beforehand. With Frank, you were having to make up everything as you go with the extremely limited knowledge you had of him, and of his experience. You knew virtually nothing about the Marines, or the military in general, but seemed to be feeling generous in offering explanations.

“Did you enjoy it?”

“I was good at it.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Frank glanced around the motel room for a moment, seemingly lost in his own thoughts while pondering the question that lingered between you. After a beat of silence, he sat down on the edge of the bed with a heavy exhale, just a few inches away from where you had been sitting cross-legged on the middle of the mattress, and turned his head to the left to look at you.

“Did you always wanna be a journalist?”

Frank’s question took you by surprise. He didn’t often ask you personal questions about yourself, but you decided if you answered his questions honestly, maybe he would do the same.

“I’ve always been nosey.”

The corner of Frank’s full lips quirked up into a knowing smile, and you couldn’t help but let out a huff of air through your nose in a quiet snort.

“That don’t surprise me.”

Giving Frank a playful roll of your eyes in response to his comment, you lightly shrugged your shoulders, looking up at him with a faint smile on your lips.

“I’ve always liked story-telling. I’ve never really had the imagination to come up with my own, but I like other people’s stories, and I’ve always enjoyed writing. I thought a club would look good on my college applications, and I wasn’t very athletic or talented in anything else, so I decided to join my high school’s paper. That’s where I really fell in love with investigative journalism, which I realize sounds ridiculous given I was reporting high school ‘news’ but-”

“It ain’t ridiculous if it was important to ya.”

The sincerity in Frank’s tone coupled with the depth of his alluring gaze almost made you forget what you were talking about. It also made you suddenly aware of the fact that every time you downplayed yourself, Frank was quick to cut off your self-deprecation with a genuine sentiment. For a second, all you could do was stare into his eyes, until you decided to bare your soul in front of him.

“It was the first time I really felt like I was good at something. Like I…I had a purpose. I had something that was…mine. I could do something meaningful…something that mattered. It could be something I was proud of.”

Frank stayed silent while he soaked up the candor of your confession, like he was taking the time to commit every piece of it to memory. Sometimes you felt like he could see right through you when he stared into your eyes, and you felt incredibly small under his undivided attention. His head dipped slightly between his broad shoulders when he turned his head to stare down at his clasped hands for a moment.

“I never knew what the hell I wanted to do. I was a…bit of a troublemaker when I was a kid. My parents…they were older, ya’know? Couldn’t really do nothin’ to control me. I knew that, and took advantage of it. I was a real…”

“Asshole?”

Frank’s lips parted into a crooked smile, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

“I was gonna say prick. But…yeah. I was a little asshole.”

“Well thank God you grew out of that.”

Frank dropped his head slightly to stare back down at his hands again with a light chuckle. Your eyes followed his gaze, and you noticed a few scars covering his knuckles, resembling jagged designs carved into a tree trunk.

“I enlisted when I was eighteen. Thought…what the hell, ya’know? Was never any good at school or anythin’ like that…and I didn’t wanna get stuck at some…shit job. Thought it was my ticket out, ya’know? Get to travel, play with guns and tanks, that kinda shit.”

The light smile that had been on the edge of Frank’s mouth dissipated slowly, and his thick brows slowly drew closer in together while he rubbed his right thumb over the back of his left hand.

“Bein’ a Marine…it was the first time in my life I felt like I was worth a damn. Like I was really doin’ somethin’, ya’know? Somethin’ good…somethin’ important. I was good at it, damn good at it. Felt like I…like I finally found-”

“A purpose.”

Frank’s eyes flickered up to meet yours, and there seemed to be a shared expression of understanding between the two of you. You knew exactly what he meant, and he could see that reflected in your eyes.

“A purpose.”

He repeated those two words in a more quiet and contemplative voice, like he was repeating them more to himself than to you.

“So, how do you go from being a Marine to a bodyguard for a high maintenance journalist?”

“Just that goddamn lucky, I s’pose.”

The edges of Frank’s mouth twisted up into a sardonic smirk when he turned his head to look at you, and you were about to retort with a smartass comment of your own when you noticed something you hadn’t seen before.

Without even thinking, your hand reached out to trace a circular shaped scar on Frank’s left temple with your index finger. He didn’t go rigid when you touched him this time, not like he had in the truck. The smirk swiftly vanished along with the playful crinkles beside his eyes, and his full lips parted slightly while he stared at you intently as you lightly traced your finger over the mark.

It was indented slightly, and you could feel the faint dip beneath your fingertip. The edges of it were tinted more of a blush shade, making it obvious this wound had been made more recently than some of the others adorning his skin. It almost looked like a bullet hole…and that idea had your stomach twisting into tight knots.

“What’s this one from?”

All of a sudden, Frank’s large hand wrapped around your wrist to push your hand away at the exact same time he turned he pulled his hand away from your delicate caress. His lips were now pressed in a line and that familiar hardness was back in his gaze.

And just like that, whatever moment you two were having was clearly over.

Frank suddenly stood from the edge of the bed and silently pulled his tank top over his head, slipping his large arms through the sleeve holes and covering his body with the dark gray fabric.

“We should call it a night.”

Frank’s voice was flat, and you felt a surge of frustration burn in your bloodstream. Every time you felt like you were getting somewhere with him, he pulled back. It was like you were constantly trying to carefully navigate your way up an unclimbable mountain, and as soon as the peak came into view, you lost your footing and fell to the bottom.

He grabbed one of the pillows from the bed and tossed it onto the floor, and a crease of confusion settled in the middle of your forehead.

“What are you doing?”

“I’ll take the floor. You can have the bed.”

You looked down at the queen size bed you were sitting on top of, a bed of which you barely took up any space, and then looked back over at Frank, who was in the middle of making a pallet on the floor.

“Frank, you don’t have to sleep on the floor. This bed is big enough for both of us.”

“Slept in worse conditions.”

You pinched at the bridge of your nose in pure irritation at both the insensitive implications behind his remark and his unrelenting stubbornness.

“So you’ve told me, several times. Thank you, by the way, for telling me that you think sharing a bed with me is worse than whatever the hell your setup was in the military. You really know how to sweep a girl off her feet, Castle. I had no idea you were such a poet.”

Frank’s face twisted up in puzzlement and aggravation at the tone of sarcasm dripping from your clipped words.

“That ain’t what I-”

“I don’t want to hear a single complaint in the morning when you’re stiff and sore from choosing to sleep on the fucking floor.”

As you vexingly tugged back the thin and somewhat stiff quilt on top of the bed, you slid beneath it, the scratchiness of the cheap sheets against your bare legs only souring your mood even further. While you turned onto your side away from Frank and harshly smacked your hand against the button to turn off the lamp on the nightstand, he stared down at you with furrowed dark brows and a heavy frown in complete exasperation and perplexity.

“Oh for fucks-why is it always a goddamn argument with you?”

“Why are you always such an ass?”

“I’m an ass for tryin’ to be a gentleman and make sure you’re comfortable?”

Dragging your palms down your face with an irritated groan, you furiously sat up in the bed to look over at Frank with an exacerbated expression while the two of you raised your voices at each other in yet another argument.

“How are you making me uncomfortable if I’m offering, Frank? This bed is big, so big that you wouldn’t even have to breathe the same air as me. We could even put pillows down the middle just to make sure that we don’t accidentally touch in the middle of the night, because God fucking forbid-”

“Oh Jesus fuckin’ Christ, fine.”

Frank ripped the pillow off the ground and angrily tossed it onto the bed, tugging the covers back from the other side of the mattress to slip underneath angrily. He turned his head to glare at you as he harshly gestured towards himself in the bed.

“There? Happy? You gonna stop fuckin’ givin’ me shit, now?”

Returning Frank’s fuming glare with one of your own, the two of you seemed to be locked in an angry staring contest until you conceded and turned over again, dragging the unpleasant quilt up to your chin. You grit your teeth as you squeezed your eyes shut, letting out an aggravated exhale through your nose.

As hot as your blood felt in your veins, there was also a nauseating feeling of disappointment settling in your stomach.

Frank wasn’t thinking about your lips. He wasn’t thinking about your kiss at all. If he was, it was him wishing it didn’t happen.

Maybe that was part of the reason he wanted to sleep on the floor and seemed so pissed off at you. He didn’t want to be near you. He was mad that you kissed him without his permission.

You’d made him uncomfortable.

On the other side of the bed, Frank stared at the back of your head in the dim amber light of the room coming from the other bedside lamp. Turning his head to stare straight ahead blankly at the wall in front of him, he closed his eyes for a moment and let out a slow and heavy exhale as he grumbled a string of curses under his breath.

After a few terse minutes of deafening silence, you could feel Frank shifting underneath the sheets, and his gravelly voice filtered in through the dense quiet.

“Look, I wasn’t tryin’ to hurt your feelin’s-”

“You didn’t-”

“Yes, I did. I wasn’t implyin’ that sharin’ a bed with you was such a bad thing, alright? I only meant I slept in worse places than on a floor, s’all.”

Frank genuinely sounded apologetic, and you felt a rush of guilt wash over you from the way you had twisted his words, jumped to conclusions, and reacted poorly. He let out another heavy sigh before speaking again.

“I just…wanted you to feel comfortable.”

The hushed tone of his voice made it sound like he was entrusting you with his deepest secret. Swallowing down your pride, you turned on your side to face Frank, looking over at him silently for a moment before letting out a soft sigh.

“Frank, you’ve never made me uncomfortable.”

He was laying on his back, his head slightly propped up against the headboard, but his face was turned towards you. He seemed to be searching your eyes for any thread of faultiness in your words that he could unravel.

“I…I’m sorry I called you an ass.”

“You’re sorry for tellin’ me the truth?”

Frank arched one of his dark brows, and you could detect a faint smirk on the edge of his lips, even in the dim light of the room. You rolled your eyes as you laughed quietly.

“Can you just let me just apologize to you for making an ass of myself?”

Frank eyed you for a moment with a sly tug at the corner of his mouth.

“Aren’t good reporters s’posed to reserve their conclusions ‘bout somethin’ ‘til they got all the evidence?”

The low, hushed tone Frank spoke in to not disrupt the quiet peace that settled between the two of you made his voice sound sultry. That twinkle of amusement was shining in his eyes again, and you fought the grin that threatened to take over your lips.

Playful Frank was your favorite Frank.

“Are you implying that I’m not a good reporter, Mr. Castle?”

A low chuckle rumbled in Frank’s throat as he moved his right arm behind his head, closing his eyes while he turned his head to face upwards with a faint smirk on his lips.

“Considerin’ you’re trigger happy, and there’s ‘bout three guns within your reach, no. Absolutely not.”

“I am not-”

“Did you not just jump all over my ass a second ago over a misunderstandin’?”

Frank opened his eyes to look over at you, his thick dark brows raised slightly while that faint smirk remained subtly on his full lips.

Narrowing your eyes playfully, you poked your tongue against the inside of your cheek and lightly shrugged your shoulders beneath the quilt.

“Well, you gave me the conclusion that you were an ass the first day I met you, and you’ve only reinforced it since then. You also did just admit on record that you’ve been an ass since you were a kid, so.”

Another chuckle sounded from Frank as a grunt of agreeance sounded in his throat.

“I reckon you’re right ‘bout that.”

A few moments of tranquil quiet passed by between the two of you, but you were buzzing with questions on the inside. However, something he said abruptly clicked in your brain, and your eyes widened as you looked over at him.

“Frank?”

“Yeah?”

“Are there really three guns in this room?”

“Three on your side.”

Blinking a few times in dumbfoundment, your brows knit together as you stared over at him incredulously.

“What…what do you mean ‘three on my side’? How many are on your side?”

“Two, and a knife.”

“Jesus Christ, Rambo. Anything else?”

Frank let out a deep and amused chuckle at that, placing his left hand on his chest as he shifted slightly on his back to get comfortable.

“In the truck, yeah.”

“What? There’s more?”

“Go to bed.”

There was no firmness in Frank’s voice, just complete entertainment. You glanced around the dimly lit motel room cautiously, wondering where he might have placed them.

“Where are they?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

Letting out a scoff, you turned your head to look at him in minor annoyance.

“What if someone tries to break in?”

“I’ll handle it.”

You narrowed your eyes at the mirthy smirk curling on the edge of his mouth.

“What if…five people break in?”

“Highly unlikely, but both guns on my side got a clip that hold 12 rounds. You done?”

An exasperated huff left your lips as you turned to lay on your back and crossed your arms over your chest.

“Isn’t it proper safety protocol to let someone know where loaded firearms are stashed?”

“They ain’t loaded.”

“You just said-”

“The ones on my side are loaded. The ones on your side ain’t.”

“Why the hell not?”

“You said it yourself. You’re nosey, and you never even held a gun before.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but to your irritation, Frank had a point. Not that you would admit that out loud to him.

A few minutes of silence passed by before you spoke up again.

“You could always teach me.”

Frank opened his eyes and turned his head slightly to look at you, staring at you in a mixture of interest and confusion.

“Teach you what?”

You turned back onto your side to face him and lightly shrugged your shoulders.

“How to shoot.”

It was Frank’s time to stare at you in dumbfoundment. He arched one of his thick brows while he eyed you.

“You wanna learn how to shoot?”

“I mean…people are only trying to kill me.”

Frank didn’t return the playful smile that you flashed him, and it quickly fell from your lips. This was not going to be something he was going to agree to easily. You were really going to have to fight for this one. You had to show him that you were serious.

“If you hadn’t shown up last night, those men were going to kill me, Frank. I don’t ever want to feel that helpless ever again.”

The devout honesty in your voice was unmistakable, and Frank let out a deep exhale as he turned his head to look up towards the ceiling and closed his eyes again.

“Let’s deal with this shit first, then we’ll talk.”

There was a tiny surge of victory that coursed through you at that. It wasn’t technically a yes, but it also wasn’t a flat out no. You just needed to keep proving to him that this was something you were serious about.

You wanted to bring up the kiss, but you weren’t sure how to approach it. You didn’t want to ruin the peace your playful banter had brought about with Frank, but you couldn’t leave it alone.

Why was he so goddamn hard to read?

Why was he still being so hot and cold with you?

Even if he was still your bodyguard, the two of you were way past the point of professionalism.

“Frank?”

“Hm?”

“I…I’m sorry…if I made you uncomfortable.”

The thin material of the pillowcase rustled loudly in the quiet as Frank turned his head to look at you inquisitively, like he had no idea what you were talking about.

“Earlier…when I…kissed you.”

There wasn’t a desert on any continent as dry as your mouth right now, and your heart was pounding so relentlessly against the sturdy ivory of your ribcage, you swore he could hear it a few inches away.

The cloudy ignorance seemed to dissipate from between his brows, and his features migrated to an expression of recognition. For a moment he didn’t say anything, and it made you realize you found his silence far more unnerving than his unwanted answers.

“You didn’t.”

There was such a confidence behind those two words that it nearly knocked the breath out of your lungs. Those two little words held so many portals of possibilities.

You didn’t; it just caught me off guard.

You didn’t; everything is fine between us.

You didn’t; I wanted to taste you.

Staring over at Frank, words seemed to completely vanish from your brain. You didn’t know what to say. You had no idea how to respond to that. The intensity of his piercing gaze sent a slight shiver tumbling down your spine despite the blazing warmth you could feel radiating from his body a few inches away from you.

The amber glow from the bedside lamp lit up his eyes like the golden hour of sunlight shining through a glass of whiskey. You wanted to get lost in him again. You wanted to take your rightful place on the throne of his lap, tangle your fingers in his hair like a crown, and let him rule over the kingdom inside your body.

“Frank.”

Was the delicate whisper of his name a desperate plea, or an enticing invitation?

It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he answered it.

For a moment, his mesmerizing stare dropped to your lips, and you swore you saw him start to lean in-

But then at the last second, he cleared his throat and turned over onto his side away from you, moving as close to the edge of the bed on his side as he could get. Frank’s voice was rough when it reached your ears, no trace of the warm and playful tone he had used just minutes ago.

“Get some sleep.”

That hopeful ember of desire that he had ignited in you had been completely snuffed out by his own hand before the flame could even catch, and the ambient light in the motel went out along with it leaving you in dumbfoundment and darkness.

tags: @twoshields @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @ferns-fics @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @yeah3459 @collaps3r @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @annalism @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98

#frank castle #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x reader #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle fic #frank castle series #the bodyguard series #bodyguard!frank castle fic #bodyguard!frank castle series #bodyguard!frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher fic #the punisher series

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shadowdaddies · 1 year ago

Note

ooh could i request azriel x reader where the inner circle are not-so-subtlety playing matchmaker between the two, to the point where it’s awkwardly painful. however, they’re completely unaware of the fact that azriel and the reader have been together for over a year now, very much aware of the inner circle’s shenanigans and find the whole situation amusing 💗

lol this is so funny and def something Az would do, thanks for the request honey

Behind Closed Doors

Azriel x Reader fluff

Warnings: a lil steamy at the end but nothing explicit

You looked across the dinner table to see Feyre smiling at you with a familiar gleam in her eye as she sipped her drink. Arching a questioning brow at her, you watched as her eyes flicked between you and Azriel, who was seated next to you at the table.

You rolled your eyes, waving your hand in a dismissive gesture at her implication. The entire Inner Circle loved to tease you and Azriel, remarking on what a great couple the two of you would make. What they didn’t realize is that the two of you had been together for nearly two years now.

You’d initially held off on telling your friends about the relationship because you wanted time to get to know each other without pressure from them, but the natural connection that you had with Azriel led to teasing nonetheless.

Sometimes it was more subtle, like Feyre’s knowing glances, and sometimes the teasing was more obvious - such as now, when Mor suggested that everyone go dancing after dinner, Cassian’s comment that it would be a perfect excuse for Azriel and you to get your hands on each other.

As Rhys and Feyre chastised Cassian for his crude remark, you hid your smirk behind your hand as you brushed your hand against Azriel’s thigh under the table.

You spent the evening dancing at Rita’s, playing up the one dance that you had with Azriel, the two of you laughing at the obliviousness of your friends who had no idea about your relationship. When you finally had the chance, you whispered in Azriel’s ear, “Cassian wasn’t wrong earlier, about me wanting to get my hands on you.” Az smirked at you, glancing back at your friends before he murmured in your ear, “I’ll meet you back at your place.”

You rejoined your friends at the booth where everyone was sitting, Azriel excusing himself to leave for the night while you stayed behind for a few minutes to avoid suspicion. After one more dance with Nesta and Feyre, you announced that you were leaving for the night, hurrying out to the door in your excitement to see Azriel.

The moment you opened the door to your apartment, Azriel pulled you into his arms, kicking the door shut behind you as he lifted you against the wall. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pulled him in for a passionate kiss as he ground against you, eliciting a loud moan that masked the sound of the door opening beside you.

A wolf whistle abruptly dragged you from your lust-filled state, Azriel letting out a protective snarl as the two of you turned to the door, now open as Cassian and Nesta leaned against either side of the frame with huge grins on their faces. Nesta waved your wallet in the air, laughing as she teased you, “I saw that you forgot your wallet, so we came to make sure you were taken care of getting home safely.” She turned to Az, looking him up and down as she continued, “looks like you are definitely being taken care of.”

Azriel’s cheeks flushed as you turned to him, laughing softly as you shrugged your shoulders. “Well, I guess there’s no hiding our relationship now.”

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bambisnc · 8 months ago

Text

dreams come true? i sure hope they don’t. [ft. h.yj]

pairing : han yujin x f!reader <3 genre : so so crack. + lil bit fluffy cw/tw : uneditted + beverage mention + lmk if there r more sobs wc : 0.6k !! <3

“wait so let me get this straight- you like someone.. and instead of doing anything rational, or god forbid even half-normal about it; you’re trying out wikihow rituals to manipulate her dreams?!”

yujin at least has the decency to look sheepish. yeah okay so maybe he did have a crush on a certain someone, namely you, and yeah maybe he was a little too anxious to approach you.

and.. yeah maybe he happened to come across an article which taught him how to alter your dreams via a simple ritual.

writing out the name of your ~beloved~ along with a detailed description of the dream you wished for them to have on a piece of paper, place 9 orange and purple streaked moonstones on it and crumpling up the paper – was, as the site declared confidently, enough to be able to make yourself a constant presence in the dreams of whomever you wished.

as long as he remembered to loudly announce the exact minutes for which he’d known the aforementioned beloved before starting, that is.

well, yujin thought, it seemed harmless enough.

except some part of him did consider it necessary to do a couple of trial runs. he wouldn’t want you to start having dreams of, say, student council member ahn yujin or that new girl choi yujin who had been a little too friendly with you these past few days. there were a lot of yujin’s around weren't there..

which is what lead to you having a series of rather odd dreams. and the subsequent amount of time you spent lowkey freaking out about them.

“gyuvin i swear i wasn’t even thinking about greek gods at all before i fell asleep,” you vent to him one day at lunch, “but i was somehow a mermaid god or something?? AND hades, you know, the god of the underworld, was kinda beefing with me for no reason?!”

your friend who is unfortunately sworn to secrecy by yujin tries his best to distract you, “c’mon dreams are contractually meant to be weird; stop overthinking it! and besides-”

“BUT LISTEN when i woke up the first audio i heard, i think some video that yujin sent me, was about greek gods!! this has happened way too many times for me to put it off as a coincidence!!”

“i think you’re just delusional (like some other people i know..)”

you simply sigh out, “sorry, what was that?” not too willing to expend more energy in trying to convince him that your problem is very valid; and he’s just being very unsupportive of you right now.

"..." you suppose you'll have to make peace with the fact that your subconscious was probably just in a silly phase.

distant sounds of students leaving after evening classes, rustling of trees with a gentle breeze.. and a flick to your forehead?!

your eyes flutter open, more than eager to chastise whoever had thought it okay to break your comfortable reverie. but when your gaze lands on him, han yujin, you feel your complaints dying down. he’s holding out your favorite beverage to you; a soft smile adorning his face.

before you can let out a single word though, there’s.. another flick to your forehead?? what do people have against you..

your eyes flutter open (again?), more than eager to reprimand whoever thought it okay to break your .. wait had you been dreaming just now?

you find yourself with your cheek resting against a table. the one who flicked your forehead yet again appears to be yujin.

his eyes seem to twinkle slightly as he says, “i thought we were going to get our science assignment done yn? or did you plan on doing it while asleep? i so did not expect this from yo-”

“hey.,” you interrupt, “han yujin. you’re free now right? wanna go on a date with me?”

safe to say that you received a very positive response, especially with his now-flustered appearance.

gyuvin really should learn to keep his mouth shut, huh?

notes : @mellowdyverse MAIIII here u go love <3 i hope this wasnt horrific im struggling tm w writers block + [m.list] + woah the coloured text is going crazyy js ignore that hehe <3 song rec : nightwalker by ten tho. it has nothing 2 do w this but its so yumi likee

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snowball-doie · 2 months ago

Text

| pairing: Virgin!Hendery x Virgin!fem!Reader

| warnings: 18+ MDNI. Loss of virginity. Mentions of sex toys. Protected vaginal sex. Nervous Hendery oml he's just a lil guy trying his best~~

| wc: 5.4k

| aurora's note: happy birthday to me and my birthday twin, hendery <3 (this is my first time using chinese terms in a fic. please correct me if anything is wrong as i am not familiar with cantonese or mandarin!)

When you two first met, it was funny that you shared a birthday— Neither you nor Hendery thought you’d fall in love with someone who had the same birthday, so it was a bit silly on dates whenever it would come up in conversation, or whenever his friends would be like, “Wait, so how many gifts do we get for you guys?” after you moved in together. “If you only get us one total, you better sleep with one eye open,” Hendery told them. He didn’t fuck around about his birthday. Yeah, it was funny between the two of you, but if there wasn’t a big pile of birthday presents for the both of you every year, he’d hold it against whoever gave you or him the short end of the stick for the entire year.

You thought it was cute. Especially when it was the first year you two spent your birthday together, that felt incredibly momentous because the two of you were still shy around each other while trying to navigate what it was like being in your first ever relationship. Was it okay to hold your hand? Yes, stupid. Was it okay to kiss you? Yes… “I’m sorry if I suck, though,” you had warned him the first time. “No, no… I’m sorry if I suck…” Was it okay to brag about you at work? Of course. Our birthday is approaching, do you want to do anything special— Only if you aren’t busy with friends and family, of course! You laughed at Hendery’s tendency to trip over his own words and fumble trying to say the right thing. He wanted to be a good boyfriend. He wanted to figure out how to treat you well, how to have a healthy, long lasting relationship with someone who meant the whole world to him. And you tried to reassure him as much as you could that he was perfect the way he was, and that his efforts weren’t going unnoticed. “Let’s get dinner together somewhere nice,” you offered. Hendery nodded, cheeks red, his shyness and excitement taking over him.

Hendery found a nice restaurant to take you out to, somewhere out of the ordinary in the hopes that no one would recognize him and take photos of the two of you. The last thing he wanted was to have your first shared birthday together ruined by a dating scandal. He treated you to everything nice. He wore his favorite suit, you impressed him with a pretty dress that had him staring at your tits a second too long before you caught him and he cleared his throat while trying to play it off coolly. At the restaurant, he ordered an expensive wine, eyeing you to see if you were also impressed, which you were. You enjoyed dinner together in a quiet corner, chatting about each other’s work and your birthday wishes for the year. He wished for a world tour with his group, and to spend White Day with you the following year— It was so far away that you didn’t even have it on your radar… but Hendery looked like he’d been considering it for a long time, and it was exciting to him. You wished to get a promotion at work, and to get to meet each other’s families. Hendery chuckled at that. He seemed to be relieved that you were so committed to a relationship with him that you were already considering meeting his parents. He’d never brought a girl home before. Hell, you’d never brought a boy home before… You both talked about what each other’s parents would think of the other. By the time dessert arrived, Hendery’s hand was on your thigh, and his cheeks were tinted red from the alcohol, and that was when he decided to start sobering up in order to get you home safely.

“I’ll just go home with you—”

The waiters began singing happy birthday while placing a piece of chocolate cake decorated with two birthday candles in front of the two of you. Hendery’s grip tightened on your thigh for a brief moment before he removed it altogether. You pouted slightly at the loss of touch. After the waiters left, you and Hendery shared the chocolate cake until you were both too full to eat the last few bites that remained on the plate. He called for the check with his hand, then it immediately found its place on your thigh again, causing you to question where the shy boyfriend you knew disappeared to with his soberness.

“Ready?” he asked you after the check came and went, the balance fully paid.

You nodded.

Hendery took your hand and led you out of the restaurant, navigating his way so well through the narrow streets and alleyways of Seoul. He must’ve heard your comment earlier because instead of guiding you home, Hendery took you back to his place casually, smiling at you nervously as he opened the front door and let you in. You’d stayed over before. Usually the two of you had dates at home because going out ran the risk of getting caught, and once you were comfortable with each other, cuddling in bed throughout the night became commonplace. It never went further than that, however. There was one time you thought that maybe the two of you would finally sleep together, until he rolled off and went to hide in the bathroom for a bit. Since then, you’ve mulled over a million reasons as to why he wouldn’t fuck you that time. Obviously you both knew you were virgins. It was one of the first things to come up in conversation after admitting that neither of you had been in a relationship before— But you figured that him being an idol meant he couldn’t date, but there were plenty of people for him to fuck! Nope… Hendery had the same amount of limited experience you did.

“You want water or anything?” Hendery asked after closing the door behind you and taking off his suit jacket.

You shook your head.

“Wanna open some gifts the boys got us?”

You nodded.

Hendery eyed you for a second. “You okay?”

“Yeah… Just… thinking.”

He nodded understandingly, like he knew there was no point in prying, so he moved to the living room where the piles of gifts from his group members were sitting. He left space on the couch for you to sit next to him. The redness on his face had disappeared during the walk home, and he was acting sober again; Yet when you sat on the couch, Hendery put his hand on your thigh again so casually and without a second thought about what it was making you think… or making you need…

“Let’s see what we’ve got. Chenle’s gifts are usually good, we can start there?”

You nodded again, gulping. “Sure.”

With his free hand, Hendery handed you the gift Chenle labeled for you, then he put his own gift from Chenle on his lap. You’d met the boys a handful of times, so it wasn’t odd that they seemed comfortable enough to buy you gifts for the first birthday you spent together with Hendery— However, you imagined that Hendery made his way around to all of them to make sure they actually got you something so as to not embarrass you or piss him off. It worked, telling by the large box Chenle gift wrapped for you.

Taking Hendery’s lead, you opened the box to reveal a very nice, expensive hair care kit, meanwhile Hendery cheered over the expensive watch he got. Jesus, how much money did Chenle really have?

“Mmm… Yuta next?”

“I thought he was in Japan, when did he have time to send us gifts?”

Hendery laughed. “I have my ways.”

Yuta’s gifts were smaller, but you honestly didn’t care about the size or the price, you were just grateful to be getting anything at all, even if it were due to Hendery’s strong arming.

Your jaw dropped when you opened the gift, immediately shutting the box and trying to hide it from Hendery. But it was too late. His attention was caught. With a laugh, he begged to see what it was, but you refused shyly, keeping the box out of his reach. Hendery laughed harder and stretched over your body in an attempt to steal the box, but the further you leaned away, the more he leaned over you, until eventually he was practically on top of you. Both of you froze. Hendery cleared his throat nervously. His gaze was glued to your lips while you were staring at his eyes to figure out what he was thinking about.

“It can’t be that bad,” he croaked, keeping the topic on Yuta’s gift. “Did he get you something mean? I’ll punch him for you.”

“He’d beat you up.”

“He’s not as scary as he looks.”

“Neither are you.”

Hendery smirked slightly, then used your lowered guard as his opportunity to steal the box before sitting upright on the couch and opening the box. He paused. You also sat up and looked at him rather than the gift.

“Oh.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I wonder what he got me, then.” He chuckled.

Both of you were silent as Hendery opened his gift from Yuta, revealing a pair of fluffy handcuffs meant for sex, hidden beneath a stack of condoms and a letter that read: “Hope these are the right size. Have fun.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think he’d be a dumbass.” Hendery closed his box and set it to the side. You stared at your open gift that remained on his lap. “I’ll return them—”

“Wait.”

Yuta’s gift to Hendery had been a bit more on the nose than the gift to you. In your box was a vibrator with a note that said: “Don’t let him pussy out this time.” And you immediately regretted ever opening up to Yuta about the time you and Hendery nearly fucked— It was a moment of weakness, alright? You were confused, and frankly a bit hurt, and you knew that if you went to anyone really close to Hendery they would lie to you or tell him you were asking around about it, so… You went to someone you knew would give an honest opinion about sex and Henderyl but you never imagined that it would prompt him to send the two of you gifts that screamed, “Just fuck already!”

Was he wrong, though?

It’d been a while since the two of you started dating, and you were already talking about meeting each other’s families and spending White Day together. Was it really outrageous to expect that maybe you and Hendery could finally…

“I’ll keep it,” you told him.

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah. I’ve been meaning to buy one.”

His eyes widened. “Really?”

“Mhm.”

With a faux sense of confidence, you retrieved your gift and set it to the side so that it was out of sight, out of mind for Hendery.

“What about yours?” you egged on. He looked confused and anxious. “Are you going to keep yours?”

Hendery looked at his closed gift to his far side. “I—” He choked on air. “I don’t know. Not sure when I’d even use it…” He couldn’t bear to look at you as he said it.

“Why not now?”

That brought his attention back to you, his still wide with shock, his hand on your thigh instinctively squeezing, all a sign of him asking if you were sure of what you were saying, like you were an idiot and hadn’t been thinking about it ever since dinner. It seemed fitting, right? Both of you losing your virginities on your birthday… And Yuta was somewhat of a help in instigating what you desired since it gave you a less awkward, or at least less direct, way of telling Hendery that you were ready if he was too.

“O-Okay— Yeah— I mean, if you’re sure, yeah, that’s fine with me too—”

“Not the handcuffs, though.”

Hendery really looked like a deer lost in headlights. Adorable. “Yeah, I never expected—” He tripped over his tongue a bit, causing him to pause. “Are you sure about this, qīn'ài de? Like, absolutely sure?”

You nodded silently, unsure if you would be able to bring yourself to say it out loud due to your embarrassment and the way you couldn’t look at him when his hand started anxiously kneading your thigh. But to your surprise, Hendery lifted your head with a finger under your chin. Then he asked one more time if you were really, really, really fucking sure. When you croaked, “Yes, I’m sure,” Hendery tangled his hands with yours, causing you to whine again at the feeling of his hand abandoning your leg. You squeezed his hands for leverage while you stood up. At eye level with you, Hendery leaned in to kiss you passionately, forcing you to stumble back a step accidentally until he caught you, then began slowly navigating you towards the bedroom.

“Condoms,” you mumbled against his lips.

“Shit— Right—”

Hendery pulled away from you entirely to run back to the couch to retrieve the gift box from Yuta. He was headed back your way when he stopped. You watched as he dug through the box, grabbing only two condoms, leaving the rest and the pair of handcuffs behind before dropping the box onto the couch and returning to you. You giggled as you embraced him for another kiss.

Finally, the two of you were able to make it to the bedroom for real while giggling like a pair of immature idiots who could only laugh about the fact that you two a couple with no experience and that made the idea of having sex seem silly because if it wasn’t that, then it was nerve wracking, and neither of you wanted to think about that. At least he looked as on edge as you were. It comforted you to know that you weren’t alone in the experience or the feelings coursing through your body as Hendery laid you down on the bed gently with a hand cradling the back of your neck for support. Immediately, he tilted his head to begin attacking your neck. In the past, the two of you made out plenty, and as such you discovered that Hendery had a thing for hickies. Lots of them. Everywhere. Making them as noticeable as he could. Maybe that was why Yuta thought it was a good idea to gift such sexual items since it was clear from the get-go that Hendery was legit about keeping you and parading you around rather than just treating you like a one time or even a temporary thing.

However, what was completely new and unexpected was the way Hendery decided to grind his hips down, revealing to you how hard he was against your clothed clit. You let out an involuntary moan. Immediately, you grew embarrassed, trying to close your legs and hide away from him, but Hendery held your thighs open with his hands and he chuckled against your neck.

“Can I take this off?” he asked, hands already playing with the hem of your dress. After you nodded, Hendery leaned back slightly so that you had enough room to make space for pulling the dress up over your head. “Can I…” He stared at your chest. “I…”

It was obvious how Hendery was struggling to ask because he didn’t know where to begin with your bra, so you decided to teach him for future reference by unclasping it with ease then sliding the straps off your shoulders. Hendery looked like he was taking mental notes. Not only of how to undress you properly, but of every inch of your body that you were slowly revealing to him. When your bra fell onto the bed, Hendery’s breath shuddered as he couldn’t hold himself back from reaching out with both hands to play with them, fingers teasing your nipples, palms molding the plushness.

“I feel awkward,” you said, turning to look away from him. “You’re still dressed.”

“Oh. Right— Right, sorry, fuck, sorry.”

Hendery pulled away to start unbuttoning his dress shirt quickly before reaching down to fiddle with his belt. You looked at him again, admiring his abs, and the little bit of prickly hair on his pelvis that was growing in since the last time he shaved. When his belt was loose, Hendery unbuttoned and unzipped his dress pants, then carefully shimmied out of them while keeping his balance between your legs and on the soft texture of the mattress.

He laughed nervously while tossing his shirt to the side. “Better?”

“Much.”

As you reached up to bring him back down to you for a kiss, his hands went to your chest with an obvious stroke of courage overtaking him so that he could knead them for the first time in his life. His palms passed over his nipples, and you moaned suddenly. Hendery swallowed the noises you made with a smile, his hips grinding down again, and now that there was just your panties and his boxers between the two of you, you could feel the weight of his erection and the real size of him finally.

“Give me your hand,” you said between kisses.

Hendery surrendered his left hand to you, allowing you to take his wrist and guide him down to your pussy, letting his fingers catch on to your intentions by pushing your panties to the side. And then he stopped, unsure of what to do.

“Press your fingers here—” Following your instructions, Hendery’s fingers found your clit, making you jolt with pleasure.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No, fuck, feels so good. Rub it in circles.”

So he did, slowly, like he was testing the waters, watching to see through your reactions if he was doing it right or wrong. When you moaned his name and kissed him again, he knew that he was succeeding.

He panted into our mouth, “You’re so wet, qīn'ài de.”

“It’s your fault… Teasing me all night.”

He smirked. “What’re you talking about?” His fingers changed direction and applied more pressure.

“Your hand on my leg at dinner…” You squeezed his biceps to cope with the overwhelming pleasure. “And while opening gifts.”

“Two gifts.”

“Still distracting.”

“Like this?” He started flicking your clit faster, working you towards an orgasm. You nodded desperately.

An unexpected grip on his wrist urged Hendery to keep going, but his fingers were slipping, and he was having trouble figuring out if he needed to do something different or keep going the same, and once he lost his momentum, his uncertainty kicked in, leaving you with a fading orgasm. To avoid having him feel ashamed of the fact that he’d been so close to making you orgasm but couldn’t quite get there, you played it smooth by instigating the next step.

“I need you in me.”

Hendery was so blinded with lustful thoughts of what being inside of you would feel like that he didn’t even put the pieces together about why you were insisting all of a sudden. He leapt at the opportunity, his fingers leaving your clit so that he could take off your panties before stripping out of his boxers. Much to your own embarrassment, you stared at his cock, wondering how the Hell he would fit in you… Was he as big and scary as some of the guys in shitty online porn? No. But he was still carrying a good size that was long enough to make you think that maybe he would hit a spot somewhere beneath your belly button, and there was enough girth that you contemplated what the stretch would feel like. Hendery was preoccupied with the condoms that he didn’t notice you staring.

The first step was opening the plastic bag the condom was in, which Hendery did with ease; However, it was the second step of putting the condom on that gave him trouble, his shaky hands having a difficult time figuring out which way it was supposed to go, and how to roll it on. You fell in love with him all over again in that moment. It was a silly thing to prompt the “I love this man with my whole heart” thought, but… Seeing him struggle with it, while completely naked, his body shaking with excitement and a touch of anxiety reminded you that he was human too, and that he was just as in love with you and the idea of being with you as you were with him.

You figured it was in both of your best interests to lend him a helping hand, so you reached out to help him turn the condom the right way and put it on, but Hendery panicked.

“No, wait, wait, wait, I got it—” He fumbled with it again, his hips backing away from you. “If you touch me now, I might cum…” He blushed with embarrassment while you giggled to yourself. Both of you watched as he struggled for another few seconds to calm his shaking enough to get the opening of the condom to latch onto his tip before he rolled it down his length entirely. “Fucking asshole knew which size to get, too,” he whispered under his breath.

“Huh?”

“Nothing.”

Hendery leaned over you again, forcing you flat on your back, your head hitting the pillows. His arms bracketed your shoulders, making you feel pinned and small beneath him… The reality of the situation was becoming all too real. The two of you were naked, in his bed, ready to fuck, and he looked so fucking good— Shit.

“Just, um, tell me if I should do something differently… Okay?”

“Same,” you replied.

Hendery nodded, strands of brown hair falling in front of his eyes while he took his dick in one of his hands so that he could line himself up with your entrance.

“There… Right?”

You giggled. “Yeah.”

He looked even more embarrassed about having to make sure, but that was better than going for it and ending up in the wrong hole unexpectedly. And, besides, you thought it was cute. Slowly, Hendery began sliding inside of you without any warning, looking down at where your bodies met to make sure that he was doing it right and wasn’t fucking anything up. When you winced, however, Hendery hesitated.

“Shit, I’m sorry—”

“No, it’s okay.”

“Does it hurt?”

“A little.”

Hendery hesitated. “I’m sorry.”

You tried to comfort him and simultaneously ease your own nerves by pulling him in for a passionate kiss that he melted into almost immediately. Only his tip was inside of you, but it already stung. More than you expected. The lack of experience with toys or partners meant you couldn’t guess what it would feel like, and the stretch you were contemplating earlier was all too noticeable.

“Okay,” you whispered against his lips.

Another few inches slowly entered you. Instead of wincing like before, you moaned a euphoric sound followed by his name— His real name. He snickered. Whenever you used his real name, it was either when you were extremely pissed off, or extremely in love with him… Sometimes he had a hard time telling the difference. But the way you were clinging to him desperately, inviting him to fill you up more and more, and you were moaning for him, he knew that you were so in love with him that you couldn’t think straight.

Once he was finally settling inside of you as far as he could go, both of you froze, waiting for the other to say or do something. Honestly, you would’ve preferred if Hendery just did it because you didn’t want to psych yourself out, but… He didn’t seem confident enough to make decisions on your behalf.

“You can move,” you told him confidently.

Hendery cautiously obeyed by pulling out about two inches before thrusting forward again. He continued soft, shallow movements for a little bit to not only help you stretch around him, but also to keep him from cumming too fast.

“Is this okay?”

For a moment, you debated giving him the truthful answer or not… But you promised each other that you’d be honest and speak up if something needed to change. After his fumble getting you to an orgasm, you felt like it was about time to say something.

“You can pull out more, and go faster. I won’t break, I promise.”

That was the greenlight he needed to start fucking you in a way that felt more proper, which mirrored what he’d seen in porn and dreamt about every time he thought about what his first time with you would be like. His cock slowly dragged along your velvety walls as he pulled out until his tip was caught on your entrance, then all of a sudden, he thrusted all the way back into you. You dug your fingers into his back. Hendery grunted, moving to hide his face in the crook of your neck while his hips increased speed and roughness with every other thrust. His pathetic grunts mixed with your desperate moans were more lewd than you could’ve imagined. Your body was sensitive to his every touch. Roaming hands, his pelvis hitting your clit, his stomach touching yours, and his cock pumping out of you— That was the best part. It hurt at first, yes, but the longer you endured it, the more pleasurable it became. At one point you wondered if you’d be able to cum just by having him fuck you… One day, perhaps.

“I’m t-t-trying, qīn'ài de, I’m sorry.”

You tugged on his hair to keep him close as you whispered, “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.”

And that was enough to send Hendery over the edge, his whole weight collapsing on top of you as he groaned and finally came. At least you were pretty sure that was what happened. The way his length twitched inside of you and the condom shifted made you think that he was cumming… And his exhausted, hooded eyes seemed to indicate the same… You ran your fingers through his hair gently to comfort him while he came down from his high, his breath slowly returning to a normal pace. The whole thing seemed to be over in the blink of an eye. From the moment he pushed into you to his climax dwindling to an end, it was all said and done, and you felt a bit of whiplash in the moment.

“S-sorry…”

You laughed. “Why?”

“I couldn’t…” He hid his face in the crook of your neck to keep you from seeing his embarrassment. “I couldn’t make you cum.”

You laughed some more. “It’s okay. It was still fun.”

Slowly, Hendery pulled out of you, his gaze turned down to check on the condom before he slowly slid it off and carefully tied it off to keep it from spilling. And then he perked up with a sudden thought.

“Wait here.”

You propped yourself up on your elbows to watch as Hendery scrambled off the bed, tossed the condom in the trash, then on wobbly legs he ran out into the living room. You smiled to yourself. How the fuck he still had all that energy after fucking you was a mystery. What shocked you, though, was when he returned, it was with your newly gifted sex toy in hand, his brows furrowed with confusion.

“Is this thing charged? Does it need batteries? How the fuck does it work?”

“Batteries, baby,” you told him.

Hendery hurried over to his gaming desk and took his Xbox controller out to steal the batteries from inside to use in the toy instead. Of course that would be his solution instead of just getting new batteries like a normal person would…

“Why’s this so difficult?” he complained under his breath while struggling to put the batteries in the right way. “Fuck me.” Finally, he got the batteries in. With his knees to support him on the mattress while his hands were busy, Hendery found his place between your thighs again, admiring your slick that drenched the bed and your inner thighs. He gulped. “You’re so fucking pretty, qīn'ài de.” He dared to take a taste for himself. With his tongue spread flat, he licked a long, slow stripe up from your core to your clit, and he chuckled when your back arched off the bed and you tangled your fingers in his hair again. “Taste so good… Fuck…” He bit his lip. Somehow he was already getting hard again, but he tried his best to ignore it in favor of pleasing you. “Let’s see if this thing is worth keeping, yeah?”

You nodded shyly. “Okay…”

Hendery turned the vibrator on and fidgeted with the settings for a moment before he aimed the head of the bulb against your swollen clit. The second it made contact with you, you jolted, hands clinging to the sweaty sheets beneath you. He focused solely on your pussy, trying to figure out the best way to settle the toy on the hood of your clit instead of directly on it, then he discovered moving it around to your wet entrance and back up got a good reaction out of you too. If he left it still for too long, you whined and squirmed. So Hendery made sure to roll it around your clit in various directions and patterns, and before you knew it, one of his fingers was teasing your entrance then slowly pushing into you. Hendery seemed pleased with himself when you moaned his name.

“How do I…” he drifted off when he got too embarrassed to finish his question.

Your reached down with a shaky hand to grab his wrist and slowly began teaching him how to thrust his fingers in and out of you. “C-curl them, too… When you’re all the way in— Fuck, just like that, baby—“

He bit his lip in concentration as his fingers continued to curl when he was in you, then he’d relax so that he could pull out before pushing back in and continuing to search for your g-spot. It took a few tries. By the time he hit it, you were already close, your orgasm sneaking up on you thanks to the vibrator he was rolling over your sensitive nub.

“Don’t stop,” you begged him with a croak, grasping his hand tighter. Hendey’s arm muscles strained under your grasp while maintaining his pace. “I’m cumming!”

Your back arched off the bed, your walls tightened around his fingers, and your clit pulsed against the vibrator he refused to weaken his hold on. His fingers bullied your g-spot to help you ride out your orgasm. Hendery watched you go from moaning pleasantly to squirming under him while whining that it was too much, that you were too sensitive; His cruelty was wavered by your panting.

“That was better. Right?” He turned off the toy and removed his fingers from you.

You nodded, breathless. “Much.”

“You got so tight when you came… Fuck…”

“Imagine what’ll feel like when you’re fucking me.”

Hendery’s eyes glossed over his lust again, his cock jumping with excitement as he leaned in to kiss you. “I love you so fucking much, qīn'ài de.”

“I love you more.”

Birthday sex became an event in and of itself. After that first year, Hendery couldn’t shake the thought of sharing his birthday with you every year for the rest of his life, and as such, he wanted to try new and different things each time. The handcuffs happened in year two— Yuta seemed pleased with himself. He patted Hendery on the back and took credit for helping him lose his virginity to you. Year three had you on your hands and knees, ass up in the air, clawing at the sheets, begging for him to cum inside of you. By year four, Hendery couldn’t stop staring at the engagement ring on your finger while you jerked him off in the living room while your favorite movie played in the background. Some of the boys liked to joke that they didn’t have to get you guys gifts anymore since the “sex fiends” that you were decided date night and birthday sex was enough gifts between the two of you; However, Hendery’s threats still held true when he told all his friends that they still owed you gifts at the very least. Nine months after year six, the two of you celebrated a different birthday, which became Hendery’s favorite thing to celebrate aside from your own shared birthday in September.

#op #hendery #wayv #fanfic #hendery smut #hendery fanfic #wayv fanfic #wayv smut #nct #nct smut #nct fanfic

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