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ladywuvly · 1 month

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♱ love bites pt.1 (vampireslave!simonriley x princess!f!reader)

summary|| The world stands divided, witnessing the dawn of a fierce civil war between mankind and vampires. Since the day you were born, your father, the king, has dedicated his life to mastering the art of manipulating the masses. However, his relentless pursuit of power has overshadowed everything else. Nevertheless, when a pale-faced servant is introduced into the castle, an inexplicable connection draws you towards him. wc: 6.8K

warnings|| MDNI; 18+ content, violence + mentions of, blood, swearing, abuse, slavery, child neglect, human trafficking.

masterlist. socials. recs.

It was the day of your birthday, a day that should've brought you joy and excitement. Yet, it wasn't as if turning a year older, granted you any additional control or responsibility over your own life.

Instead, you found yourself trapped in this house castle you called home. Surrounded by a series of unfamiliar faces, royal servants, and a new tutor every few months.

Isolated from the other children your age, a burning desire for freedom consumed you, as you watched them get the life you wanted; the life you yearned for.

While they were allowed to live freely, you were imprisoned inside this mansion. Locked away in your bedroom, walls covered in lavish decor. Shelves and dressers filled with things you rarely used - makeup and perfumes rarely touched, dresses and linens you dreaded to even wear.

You were merely a marionette, dressed up and down, manipulated at your parent's whim, while others turned a blind eye at your misery.

Although, what did you expect, you were a princess after all.

Marianne suddenly entered your bedroom. Crossing the threshold gracefully with her eerie ambiance of mystery and allure.

Marianne had been your mother's handmaid for as long as you could remember. She had been a gift to your mother, from your father, long before you were born.

Flawless porcelain skin and deep captivating red eyes that set her apart from the rest of the other servants around the castle.

Time seemed to have no effect on her. She had not aged a single day in all of your years. Frozen in time at the age of 26, and was, considerably, the only consistent part in your life.

Marianne laid out a dress for you. Placing it down carefully on your bed as she continued to busy herself around your bedroom.

Your head turned at the sound of her voice and you looked up at her sympathetically. "Do I have to go?"

Leaning back as her hands playfully combed through your hair, fingers gliding smoothly through your freshly brushed strands.

"It's best to get it done and over with." She said calmly.

As you made your way down the stairs, you took a moment to calm yourself before entering the dining room sheepishly.

Your father was seated at the head of the table, your mother beside him.

Catching sight of you, he swiftly fished his pocket watch from his coat. "You're late. I don't have the time to wait for you."

You followed your father outside to the waiting carriage. Accepting the kind hand offered by Louis, your chauffeur, and settled into the comfortable seats.

The ride dragged on, perhaps it was on account of what awaited you, upon your arrival. It baffled you at how things had reached this point.

Once the existence of vampires was revealed to the world, they were immediately labeled as a threat. Dangerous creatures of the night that lurked amongst the shadows. Monsters hiding among men.

On contrary to popular belief, they didn't burst into flames when exposed to sunlight. They weren't threatened by garlic, or crosses, or holy water. They didn't die from a stake to the heart and they were certainly not undead.

Although, they appeared pale in complexion, possessed immense strength and heightened senses, and required a dietary supplement of blood to survive.

It would be unfair to label them as monstrous, and you refused to believe this was the only way to live alongside them. They had once been people, just like you were. They experienced emotions and suffered pain.

Sure, it was different from the typical ways of the 'living' world. Still, that didn't justify enslaving their entire race.

It was argued that it was the only method to ensure humanities safety. Claiming that without it you’d be vulnerable, unprotected. Nevertheless, you wouldn't embrace the idea that this was the sole approach to a harmonious existence.

Soon the carriage came to a halt and your father got out. You peered out from behind him, surveying your surroundings before stepping onto the muddy road.

You trailed behind him into the building, entering a large auditorial room where the auction would be taking place. That familiar nauseous feeling swirled in your stomach as he led you to your seats near the back of the audience.

You anxiously looked around the room, taking in every detail. Within a matter of moments another man strode across the stage, approaching the podium.

The room became silent in anticipation as he began to speak. His words fell deaf to your ears, drowned out by the unsettling start of the auction.

Your eyes remained fixed on the stage. Witnessing as one after another, was forcefully brought out.

Both men and women, hands bound and feet shackled, appeared before the crowd. Some looked more heavily mistreated than others.

What disgusted you even more was the lack of empathy displayed by those around you, not even flinching as each individual was auctioned off to the highest bidder.

The sight was repulsive, and you couldn't bear to raise your bidding paddle held tightly in your hands.

As the auction began to come to an end, your father seethed at you through his barred teeth. "If you do not bid, I will do it for you."

Reluctantly, you shifted your gaze back to the stage, as another man was being dragged out.

He stood with an imposing height. Towering over the both men who held him captive at either side. His shoulders wide, and the shirt he wore did a poor job at concealing the dried blood and dirt that clung to his pale skin.

Your eyes couldn't help but linger on him, captivated by his presence. Despite his greasy blonde hair that fell over his eyes impedingly, it didn’t mask the strong features of his face.

He pulled away from the man on his right, earning a painful kick to the back of his legs that sent him collapsing onto his knees.

With his hair serving as a makeshift restraint, his head was raised. Lifting his chin defiantly, revealing his face in all its glory to the many interested onlookers among the audience.

His appearance was striking and as strange as it seemed, you couldn't help but feel drawn to him. His rugged face, marked by dirt and blood, still possessed an undeniable beauty.

Soon bids were being placed, and although the thought of purchasing this man in front of you seemed unfathomable, you couldn't resist impulsively raising the paddle high into the air.

"13,000! 13,000 for..oh, and well if it isn’t the Princess herself, ladies and gentleman!" The entire room turned their attention from the auctioneer to you, causing you to squirm uncomfortably in your seat.

As you looked back at the stage, the man's gaze locked with yours. His eyebrows furrowed harshly and he shot you a piercing glare causing your heart to ache.

"He's going to be difficult to break in." Your father disgruntled.

"You told me to bid."

"13,000, going once! Going twice! Sold to our Majesty and the Princess!" Your father rose from his seat, you instinctively followed. Waving and smiling as the men and women in the crowd erupted in applause.

As you glanced back at the stage, a wave of dread washed over you as you watched them forcefully drag the man away and out of your sight. Sorrow-filled, you tore your gaze away and hurriedly followed in his footsteps.

As he stood by the reception desk, meticulously filling out paperwork and a bill of sale. Your attention was drawn to the two familiar men who had been escorting individuals on an off stage.

They seemed to be engaged in a conversation with your father, he discreetly offered them a few coin each, before he turned and handed you a pen.

"What’s this for?" You ask, your voice filled with uncertainty. "Ownership papers." His reply caused you to freeze.

It was hard to believe that this was actually happening. You would be this man's owner. He would become your possession.

"Father… I-I'm not sure if I can-" You stammered, your voice trembling.

"That's enough." He said, silencing you.

It was astonishing, how effortlessly your father made you remember just how easy it was to hate him. He had managed to portray this as nothing more than a point of sale, stripping away all humility.

Swallowing down your tears, you leaned over to hastily scribble your signature at the paper’s edge. Every letter and each stroke of the pen, another stab wound to your heart.

You dropped the pen as if it had burned you, walking out of the building and leaving your father inside.

As you caught your breath out on the sidewalk, a laughing bunch of children dashed by you. Joyfully passing a vibrant red rubber ball amongst each other.

Their contagious laughter brought a fleeting smile to your face, but it soon faded as rearing envy flooded your chest. You longed to once be part of their innocent joy.

Your father appeared from behind you and as the carriage arrived he promptly took his seat without bothering to spare you a glance.

You took a moment to look for where they might have placed the man of such impending size. It would be difficult to hide a man of his stature, even on something as grand as the royal carriage.

As you glanced at Louis. He met your gaze before casting his eyes behind him towards the rear.

You cautiously approached the back of the carriage, stealing a glance around the corner to catch a small glimpse of him.

There he was, shackled securely to the luggage rack sitting upright on the short, compact shelf.

You swiftly glanced over your shoulder, ensuring that your father hadn't caught you gazing inquisitively at the cryptic man.

"Princess?" A gravely, somber voice broke the silence.

Startled, you jumped in surprise caught off guard by the sudden sound. Turning back to face the man who remained bound in place.

You approached him cautiously, his appearance became even more unsettling. Although his face remained somewhat concealed, the deep scars that were etched into his skin were too distracting to ignore.

The long jagged scars that scattered across his face. Remnants of a past wound ran across his nose. His face, a roadmap of strength and survival.

Cutting deeply over his lips like a badge of honor. Saw-toothed and jagged, narrowly missing his eye, dividing his eyebrow and cheek with a single stroke, which only added to his allure.

Each scar, a testament to a life lived, resiliently.

Your eyes welled up with tears, brimming and threatening to overflow. The feeling of self-disgust washed over you, utterly ashamed at what you had done. The depths you had sunk, purchasing him as if he were mere property.

"Everythin’ a’right there, Princess?" His voice was hoarse and deep, sending a shiver down your spine. Never before had the sound of someone's voice evoked such a whirlwind of emotions within you.

"Don’t call me that." You snapped, feeling far from deserving of such a title. At the moment you felt nothing like a princess. A princess was strong, courageous, and compassionate, someone who helped others, not oppressed them.

He seemed familiar with the tone of your voice and with a stern expression turned to look away. "No! I-I’m sorry. I just… I just hate being called that." You stammered.

"Then wha' is it I call you?"

Your ears hummed in pleasure, as he played with your name a few times under his breath.

"And you? What shall I call you?" You asked him nervously.

"Anythin' you please." He gazed at you intensely, causing you to shyly glance down at your hands.

"No, I want to know your name." You insisted, shaking your head.

"Simon." He stated sharply.

"Simon…" You repeated, before anxiously biting your bottom lip. Mesmerized, you couldn't tare your eyes away from his intense crimson gaze as it slowly drifted down to your mouth.

The sudden sound of your father's voice calling your name caused you to gasp, releasing your flushed lip. Shattering the moment, you turned your attention towards the front of the carriage.

Glancing back at the mysterious man. "I’m sorry, I’m truly so sorry." You panicked, stepping away, rushing to take your seat.

As you made your way back to the castle, the ride was filled with an eerie silence.

Once you’d arrived home and stepped out of the carriage, the sound of jingling chains caught your attention.

Your father disappeared into the castle, leaving you alone with Simon. Watching as Louis released him from his restraints.

You couldn't help but feel the stir of curiosity and anger emanating from his gaze, freezing you in place.

Perhaps it was the countless years of torment he endured, that over time had hardened his natural state.

He stood tall, towering over your own figure. He was incredibly intimidating, and with each passing minute, the thought of fleeing became increasingly tempting.

Simon possessed an imposing build, with muscles that commanded attention. His blonde hair was too long and unruly, but that only added to his overall delphic demeanor.

However, his facial hair proved to be quite distracting, diverting the attention from his striking features.

His tattered clothing barely held together, falling apart at the seams, while his feet remained bare.

Your boots protected your feet from the sharp gravel stones, and although you were aware that he didn't experience pain in the same manner as you did, it still must’ve been somewhat uncomfortable. His overall appearance upset you.

"I’m sorry." You mumbled softly, casting your gaze downwards in shame.

"You keep apologizing."

He sounded annoyed, angry, his tone filled with irritation.

"I don't know what else to say." Closing your eyes to keep the tears at bay. With a shake of your head and a sniffle, you took a deep breath to compose yourself.

The sound of hurried footsteps on the splintered rock caught your attention. You turned to see Marianne as she made her way towards you.

It only took a call of your name for you to run to her. Enveloping you into her warm embrace, cradling your head into her chest.

Overwhelmed by the intensity of emotions you broke down, no longer strong enough to hold back your tears. Sobs racked through your throat, causing your shoulders to tremble with each wail of grief.

In that moment, Simon's presence faded into the background. With tender gestures and the gentle stroking of your hair, Marianne comforted you. Her soothing words reassured you, easing your tears.

"Louis?! Louis?!" Marianne's voice rang out, beckoning the man who had disappeared for only a moment.

"What has happened?!" He exclaimed angrily, his accusatory gaze fixated on Simon.

"He’s done nothing." Marianne interjected, her voice calm yet firm. "You're well aware of the princess's nature."

Simon remained stuck in place, utterly surprised at your sudden outpour of emotion.

Throughout his years, he had encountered countless young women, but witnessing, a princess of all people, weeping uncontrollably in the embrace of someone who, by all appearances, shared his vampiric nature, seemed unfathomable.

Marianne regarded Simon with an inscrutable expression, her gaze impossible to decipher. "Louis, escort him to the bathing chambers. See to it that he is cleaned and attired appropriately before bringing him to the princess's quarters. We shall await his arrival there."

She instructed, gently tugging at your weeping form as she led you towards the grand castle.

"Goodness Marianne, it was absolutely awful." You said once you had distanced yourself from the men, finding the courage to explain yourself.

"They were all beaten and chained, some of them so weak they couldn't even stand on their own. It's sickening that I participated in such a thing. Heavens, I bought a man."

Tears continued to stream down your face as she guided you indoors. "It's alright now, my dear, don’t worry. All is well. Let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?"

Simon squeezed into the porcelain tub, sinking comfortably against its back with his arms draped over the sides. He’d cut his hair, shaved his beard, and meticulously scrubbed all the dirt off his scarred skin, leaving it free from any traces.

As he indulged in the soothing warmth of the water, his mind wandered back to you.

Your wide tear-filled eyes that glistened as you looked up at him. Lashes that appeared fuller as they clung together from the tears cascading down your flushed cheeks.

The remembrance of your disheveled state, stirred a sense of melancholy deep within him.

Letting out a heavy sigh, he submerged himself beneath the water's surface.

Despite the fact that Louis had provided Simon with the largest clothes he could find. With his impressive height and broad build, they still seemed to be slightly too snug for his frame.

The shirt appeared to be undersized. It fell short, just below his hips, and was a bit snug around his shoulders. On the other hand, the old pair of boots that were given to him fit perfectly.

Louis guided him through the castle and when they finally reached your door, Louis left him standing in the hallway. Simon stood there for a moment unsure about what might lay beyond the door.

Sitting in your usual spot by the window, your lace-up heeled boots lay untied on the floor beside you. Sensing a change in the room, you turned around, anticipating Marianne. However, you were surprised when you saw Simon approaching.

Finally, with his hair cut short and his face clean-shaven, you could catch a glimpse of his true self. Though, his presence seemed so estranged in your feminine room.

You stood up, suddenly anxious. Yet, his height startled you and you took a clumsy step back, accidentally hitting the wooden bench with your heel, causing you to awkwardly plop down onto your rear end.

As soon as Marianne stepped in, you quickly stood back on your feet. Gently smoothing down the fabric of your skirt, attempting to alleviate the shakiness of your hands.

Simon obediently sat down into a chair not too far from him upon Marianne's request, and you gracefully resumed your own seat as well. Simon found it peculiar how willingly you followed Marianne's instructions.

"Simon, you are not t- Marianne..." You interjected, cutting her off.

From the moment you entered your bedroom, you had made it clear that she was not to address him in the same manner as the other servants.

Marianne let out a sigh before starting again. "Hello, Simon. My name is Marianne, the queen's lady-in-waiting. However, for all practical purposes, I have been taking care of the princess since she was a young girl."

Simon glanced back and forth between the two of you, catching your gaze as you observed him from your perch by the window.

"To ensure a seamless transition, there are just a handful of guidelines you need to adhere to." She informed him.

"Firstly, you will be residing in the servant chambers. Louis will assign you daily tasks to keep you occupied. Once you complete your duties, you are free to engage in any activities of your choice. Feel free to explore the castle grounds, take care of the animals and crops, or anything else that keeps you busy." She continued.

"However, you must always be attentive to the Princess herself. For you are to be devoted to her." Simon glanced in your direction, immediately catching sight of your somber expression, despite your attempts to hide it from him.

"It is strictly prohibited to enter the west wing of the castle. The library and ballroom, on the other hand, can be accessed with prior permission from the king, queen, or the princess." She finished.

After she’d gone over a few more things she’d eventually excused herself.

Once Marianne left your bedroom, you followed her to the door, closing it behind her. A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you turned back to face Simon.

Marianne had encouraged you to make an attempt at talking with him. It wasn’t everyday a pale fresh face was introduced to the castle.

You found him standing in the middle of the room, his expression filled with uncertainty. "You have questions."

There was a brief moment of silence, before he suddenly spoke, taking a chance on your unusual demeanor. "Do I 'ave permission t'speak freely?"

"You don't need my permission to do anything." You replied honestly, yet, intrigued by his request.

"Neve' met someone like you." Simon paused, his voice filled with genuine curiosity.

Yet, his words caught you off guard, causing a blush to creep up your cheeks. "What do you mean?" You asked, genuinely surprised by his confession.

"All m’years, I've met thousands of people..." Simon explained, his tone filled with a mix of vulnerability and obligation.

"Ya’ see, I have been tortured, beaten, punished, abused..."

A lump formed in your throat, and tears welled up in your eyes as he confessed. "Stop that..." You whimpered softly, your voice barely audible.

"...but the first day I meet you, you apologized for nothin’." His voice remained steady. "You call me by my name, and allow me to call you by yours..." He stated in confusion.

"Simon.."

"I am at your command, your highness. I will not deny it... Simon, don't..."

You couldn't help but stare at the floor. Your throat constricted, a heavy lump settling in it, making it difficult for you to speak.

Simon's words struck a chord within you.

"I never wanted things to be like this." You confess, taking a step closer to him, unable to keep your distance.

"I never wanted to be trapped within these walls, raised by guards and maids instead of my own parents. Told how to dress, how to behave, how to speak, even how to feel. Forever alone, mocked, ridiculed..." Closing the gap between you, you continued.

"I may not know what it is like to be one of you, and I can never truly understand the pain of what you've been through, but I do know what it's like to have no control over your own life. To have every decision made for you. So, when I apologize, it's not for nothing. It's for everything. Everything that has ever happened to you because of me..."

As you stood just a step away from him. His face, a mixture of confusion and bewilderment.

"...so I find myself apologizing, repeatedly. Even though I know you may not believe me. I can no longer continue living this facade. Pretending that everything is okay, when it's far from." You let a breathless laugh escape your lips.

"I refuse to treat you in the same manner as my father would, and I was only at that stupid auction today because he insisted I had to be. So, please understand that I cannot treat you with anything less than kindness... and nothing you do or say can ever change that."

As you looked up at him, your hand softly touched his forearm, which dangled lazily by his side. Looking up at him, his captivating eyes met yours, an unbreakable connection.

They portrayed a deep sense of astonishment as you confessed, causing you to avert your gaze shamefully. However, you couldn't help but look back at him, wanting to appear courageous in the presence of such an overwhelmingly, intimidating man.

Simon was bewitched, an enchanted feeling he had never experienced before consumed him completely, leaving no doubt in his mind at your sincerity.

Initially, he had pictured you as a spoiled, immature, arrogant princess, who'd come from a privileged, lavish life. Someone who had everything handed to them on a silver platter, attended private classes and never missed a lesson.

Although, as he gazed at you, he saw the complete opposite.

The rosy blush on your cheeks, a beautiful indication that your heart pumped with life, and the sparkle in your eyes revealed a shimmer of hope for the future.

At your chest tightening confession, Simon realized that despite where he came from, an environment filled with poverty and hardship, where tainted hands met violence and hurt, you'd still welcome him with kindness and warmth. Something he hadn't felt since he was human.

"Please, do not make this difficult for me." You pleaded with him.

"I'm certain that the years you remain here will fade in comparison to the rest of your life, but it will be my entire existence."

Little did you realize just how wrong you were. Simon was already well aware that his time here would trump all the years he'd existed.

He knew that you, would surpass all the people he'd spent his everlasting eternity with.

The past few months remained somewhat peaceful. You had yet to ask much from Simon, other than helping hand here and there.

To be truthful, you were slightly embarrassed at your initial introduction of yourself, and your thoughts on the whole situation made you reluctant to ask things of him. However, that didn't mean you weren't observant.

Despite both of your seemingly busy schedules, it didn't deter you from watching him closely as he worked.

Tending to the horses and other animals in the stables. The times you witness him and Louis engaged in deep conversation.

He was truly a captivating sight to behold. You'd study him, working away, out in the fields, watching as he effortlessly hoisted those hefty bales of hay.

A task which would typically require the strength of two mortal men, he made, seem like child's play.

On hotter days, there were moments when you would catch him clad, in nothing but a pair of trousers and boots. His tunic-shirt, casually tossed over the fence as he tirelessly carried on with his work.

It was during these days, you'd take your time when admiring his naked upper body. With strong, powerful muscles rippling beneath scarred, sweat glistening skin. He was undeniably breathtaking.

He'd once asked you for permission to use the library and you had assured him that he no longer needed to ask your approval.

In fact, you'd even told him to let anyone causing him trouble know that it was you who had granted him access.

You'd ran into him a few times there, when gathering books your instructors told you to bring along to class.

Conversations were always short, neither of you talked very much. Simply a few brief, fleeting words regarding what each of you were reading or how you had been passing the time.

Once you began to feel anxious or perhaps even a bit flustered, you'd politely excuse yourself. Scurrying off to find solace in some deep, hidden corner of the castle.

Simon always found you incredibly strange. He was well aware of the fact that he had captured your attention, as he could feel your eyes fixed on him during numerous occasions.

In fact, he would often find himself going the extra mile just to amuse you. Whether it was casually removing his sweat soaked shirt or deliberately taking a bit more time to complete his tasks, knowing that you would be watching his every move.

It wasn't until your father had confronted you about your tutors' complaints, regarding your lack of focus during lessons. How they'd caught your attention slipping, or how easily you got distracted, often gazing out the window lost in your own thoughts, 'daydreaming' was what they'd called it.

As a result, he summoned you to his study, where he proceeded to ridicule you about how childish you were being. To waste their time and his precious coin on classes that you so stupidly couldn't comprehend, or didn't have the mental capacity to follow along.

His words cut like a knife, devoid of any kindness or compassion. His only purpose, to shatter the illusions you had created in your head, and to demand your undivided attention.

You quickly left his study, tears streaming down your face. Hurriedly, rushing through the grand halls of the castle. Your sole mission was to reach your bedroom, where you could finally surrender to the comfort of your bed and release all the pent-up emotions through a torrent of tears.

Yet, you were interrupted at the top of the stairs where you'd collided with someone with such force, you thought it would surely bring you both sprawling to the ground.

Instinctively, you threw your hands out to catch yourself, only to find them resting against a solid chest covered in well-defined muscles. A strong arm encircled tightly around your waist, keeping you from collapsing onto the ground in a puddle of tears.

Simon had spent quite some time in the library, secretly hoping he'd encounter you. Unfortunately, luck was never on his side. He'd abandoned his pursuit, making his way back to his quarters when he suddenly caught the sound of your hurried footsteps. The rampant rhythm of your heartbeat, and the unmistakable, sickly scent of your sorrow.

There were only a few things Simon found enjoyable about being what he was. Among them, was his heightened senses. With his newfound sense of smell and enhanced hearing, he had the luxury of knowing exactly how a person was feeling.

On occasion, he was able to catch the skipped beat of your heart, when he paid you a subtle compliment and the, oh so, delightful scent of your arousal that filled the air when he'd 'accidentally' brush up against you.

However, in this moment he didn't find it quite as appealing. The sight of freshly fallen tears, cascading down your flushed cheeks, and the sound of each wet breath you took in an effort to compose yourself, which had no effect, had Simon's chest constricting.

"Your highness? What has happened?" The sight of your distress caused a surge of anger coursing through him at the thought of someone causing you pain.

The unexpected appearance of Simon caused you to feel a sudden sense of relief. As his rough, calloused fingertips gently brushed away the tears streaming down your cheeks, and as his words registered in your mind, you shook your head.

Taking a large step away from him, distanced yourself from his comforting embrace. You swiftly wiped away any remanence of your tears, before crossing your arms tightly over yourself, in an attempt, determined to comfort yourself.

"Nothing. I am just being childish, that's all." You reassured him. Putting emphasis on childish, in reference to your father's patronizing words.

Simon tried to cheer you up teasingly. "Ain't a princess not suppose' t'lie?" Unfortunately he hadn't had much practice in the matter and his attempt only seemed to make things worse.

"You're right. I'm sorry-I just..." Your voice fractured, like delicate glass as you started to apologize, but he interrupted you.

"No. No, 's not what I meant." He said gently. Confused, you looked up at him. "You don't need to lie, not to me."

Reaching out, his fingers delicately brushed away a wayward piece of hair from your face, tucking the stray strand behind your ear, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

You inhaled deeply, preparing to speak, the words escaped your lips softly. "I'm falling behind in my studies." Simon would've asked why, but deep down, he feared he already knew the answer. Him.

"'s trivial." He said, attempting once again to displace your worries.

"To you." You sighed, while he simply hummed in response.

"Suppose."

Simon was never one for words, so he thought of something else that might cheer you up. "Come with me." He uttered unexpectedly, catching you off guard.

"What?... Where?" You asked him puzzled.

This time, he reached his hand out slowly, gently brushing against your wrist and palm, before finally catching the tips of your fingers with his.

Without saying a word, he led you carefully by his side, guiding you out of the castle entrance and towards the stables. You couldn't help but giggle uncontrollably as Simon tightened his grip on your hand, intertwining your fingers.

With your free hand, you lifted the skirt of your dress, in order to keep up with Simon's quickening pace. "Where are you taking me?" You asked him playfully. He didn't respond, instead pulling you closer to him as you approached the fence of the pasture.

"Simon I'm not allowed this far." You warned looking up at him. Once again, he paid no mind to your words, smiling down at you as he grabbed you by the waist to hoist you over the fencing.

"Simon!" You shrieked his name. Grasping his sturdy upper arms, at the feeling of him effortlessly lifting you off the ground and into the air. Once he set you back down on your feet, he placed one hand onto the railing, leaping to your side.

"Would you just come on." He said, grabbing your hand once more pulling you with him into the open fields of grass.

Suddenly, he came to a stop, positioning you in front of him. You could feel the firmness of his chest against your back, while his large hands firmly grasped onto your hips protectively.

"Si-Shh, shh, shh. Look." He interrupted you softly, gently nodding his head for you to look forward.

Straight ahead, in front of you both, was a harras of horses. Gracefully trotting over the lush grassy knoll. A handful of playful foals keeping pace beside their nurturing mothers.

As the sun began its descent behind the towering trees, it painted the flowery hills with radiant beams of golden light.

The view before you was absolutely breathtaking, and despite all your years living in the castle, you never imagined you'd see something quite this beautiful.

You gently rested your hands on Simon's, which were now wrapped loosely around your waist and leaned back into the comfort of his strong embrace. In that moment, all your previous worries and doubts seemed to fade away.

Simon felt you relax into him, drawing you tighter against his body, keeping you close.

He gently lowered his head, his nose grazing against the full of your hair and he took a deep breath, inhaling in your delicious scent, savoring the intoxicating aroma of vanilla that enveloped you both.

As his words escaped his lips, a gentle touch of his breath caressed the shell of your ear sending a delightful shiver down your spine. "Beautiful, isn't it?" His tone, a confident statement, rather than a question.

You gave a subtle nod, your voice currently untrustworthy as Simon's head remained nestled in your hair.

His hands began to wander. His brain, no longer thinking clearly as his senses grew hazy. His mind, a clouded mess, suddenly consumed by you.

With one hand he gently traced the curve of your hip, gripping at the softness of your plush thighs through the fabric of your skirt.

His other hand ventured upwards, long fingers spreading wide as they glided over your rib cage, brushing against your sternum just below your breast.

As his lips drug against the delicate skin of your neck and a surge of warmth enveloped you, your eyes widened in recognition.

You quickly spun around to distance yourself from him, but his arm remained securely around your waist holding you firmly in place.

Your hands reached out to push at his chest, but the intense look of hunger in his eyes, caused you to freeze.

How foolish of you, allowing him to lure you out here all alone. As much as you were reluctant to accept it, he was still a predator and his thirst for blood, veracious.

As his hand gently cradled your cheek, his fingers tangled in your wild hair. His eyes burned with an insatiable lust as he tilted your head.

You watched him salivate, his tongue darting out, licking his lips at your desirable taste.

A wavering sigh escaped your lips, leaving you utterly breathless. Fear gripped your trembling hands as he leaned closer, drawing you towards his awaiting mouth.

You knew there was no calling for help, no one would arrive fast enough to save you from him.

With a heavy heart, you closed your eyes as a single tear fell down your cheek. Bracing yourself for the inevitable pain, accepting of his bitter-sweet bite of death.

His cold breath fanned against your lips, before a burning warmth enveloped them. Pleasurable tingles coursed through your jaw, gradually ascending to your face, caressing your cheekbones and even reaching your hair, which was held captive in his strong hand.

The rough texture of his scarred lips was nothing compared to the pillowiness of them.

Simon deepened the kiss, stealing the breath from your lungs.

You had never experienced such a sweet sensation before. You were still young and hadn't been trusting enough to share such an intimate moment like this with somebody.

A kiss filled with such an overwhelming sense of passion, surpassing any tenderness you had ever experienced. Your body relaxed, your hands, once tightly clutching his shirt out of fear, now clung to it with longing, yearning to pull him closer to you.

His mouth parted, gently drawing your lower lip inside. His tongue caressing the tender flesh as he kissed you furiously. He tasted like tea, earthy with a hint of something sweet, perhaps cherries or marzipan.

Simon couldn't get enough of you. The soft curve of your waist, perfectly fitting his hand, as if it were meant to keep you by his side.

Since his arrival, he'd been yearning for more. Longing for your taste, and to let you consume every part of him completely. The sickly-sweet flavor of your lips, the taste of your mouth that he savored like the most cherished elixir.

The sudden nip of his teeth against your plump skin stung, jolting you back to reality. The instant your eyes widened in astonishment, you pulled away from him.

Simon's brows were knitted together, as though the absence of your lip brought him some kind of unbearable pain. He breathed deeply, his chest, rising and falling, as if it carried the weight of his yearning.

He caught sight of the solitary tear that had escaped your eye, his thumb brushing it away along with your fears. You thought about how you'd gotten yourself here. How you had been so blind, up until this moment.

"Simon..." His name had never before sounded so beautiful coming from trembling lips.

Was it perhaps because he had kissed you silly, until you became lightheaded and breathless, or simply his ears playing tricks on him, he didn't know. Whatever it was he didn't care, his only priority was to somehow kiss you again.

"...why would you do that?" You said feverishly.

"Didn't think y’d mind." His voice was slurred as he spoke somberly. A hint of something playful in his tone that sent an unfamiliar sensation through your body.

Simon could smell the sweetness of your desire, yet your face, a mix of confusion and uncertainty. "You didn't ask..."

Of course that's what you wanted, he thought. A proper kiss for a proper girl. He smiled down at you, your eyes, filled with emotions, glistened innocently as they met his gaze.

"’ought ya might'a liked it." His gaze was soft as he shifted back and forth between your wide eyes and swollen lips.

"I might have if you'd asked."

In all honesty you did love like it. In fact it was better than you could've ever imagined. Although, it wasn't like you had anything to compare it to.

"Simon..." The purr that hummed in his chest sent tingles through you. He leaned down again dragging his nose along the exposed skin of your clavicle.

You flinched, the feeling of mouth so close to the bare skin of your neck. You shivered and couldn't help but whimper at the feeling.

Simon could smell your fading aroma of pleasure, replaced by the reeking scent of fear. He pulled away to look at you but you diverted your gaze. Looking anywhere but his captivating eyes.

"What's got ya so frightened, Dovie?" Amazed at how easy he could tell how you were feeling, you stuttered out a reply.

"I-We can't... If my father- Wait... how could you tell?"

"It reeks." He said blatantly.

"Y-you can smell fear?"

"Mhm..." He leaned back in, kissing up the side of your throat, mumbling against your skin between each one. "and sorrow... happiness... arousal..." You blushed deeply, bringing a hand up to hide your flushed cheeks.

"None of that, Dovie. 'm a proud man, like to see what I do to you."

The sun had set leaving the sky a dark blue-gray. The wind had picked up, the breeze whipping against your warm skin and tangling your hair into a mess.

Simon's hands began to move up and down against your arms before brushing back your wild strands. You leaned closer to him, his body bracing against the wind protecting you from the nipping cold.

"S'time to getcha inside, little one."

⇠ call of duty masterlist. part.2⇢

so this was originally just going to be one fic but it got way too long. so I figured I'd break it into two, maybe a third if y'all have some ideas/requests on how I could continue it <3 next part will be smutty!

#ladywuvly. m.list #18+ content #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost call of duty #ghost x female reader #ghost x reader #simon riley #fanfic #navi.#18+ blog #fandom #vampireslave!simonriley x princess!reader #vampire!simon ghost riley

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ladywuvly · 2 months

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☺️ oh my goodness thank you so much, ya’ll so nice!! :3

My Reading List ~

This is a masterlist of some of my favorite works by other writers on tumblr! Features, one shots, drabbles, headcanons, etc. Anything reader x daryl that I enjoyed a lot. Will constantly update as I find more.

To the authors whose work is linked here: I wasn't sure if I should tag you or if that would be rude or annoying plz lmk if tagging is not preferred and I will remove your tag and leave it as just the link!

2 Batteries Away (mildly angsty smut) - by @pirateprincessblog

Wha's up there? (funny little convo) - by @celtic-crossbow

She's alrigh' (another funny little convo. This author is great with these) - by @celtic-crossbow

Can you flip me on my back? (smutty drabble that made me die) - by @dixonzzgirl

Dog headcannons (omg?? this was geniusly adorable????) - by @dixonzzgirl

Sins and Honey Flavored Sweetness (smutty one shot) - by @scudslut

Long Before (long, smutty, beautifully written reader!greene x Daryl) - by @ladywuvly

When Skies are Gray (we only have the first chapter so far but I'm already hooked) - by @optimist-pine

The World Keeps Getting Hotter (Daryl fears death for the first time, because of you) - by @celtic-crossbow

Older and Older Pt 2 (first fic is younger reader tormenting Daryl with her suggestiveness, second is the smutty payoff for his suffering) - by @d1xonss

Love me, love my cat (Daryl isn’t a cat guy but he doesn’t have a damn choice) by - @spectacular-skywalker

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ladywuvly · 2 months

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omg wait really!! thanks :3

♱ long before (s2!daryl dixon x green!f!reader)

summary|| As fate would have it, a devastating tragedy compelled your father to open up your front gates to a group of families seeking refuge from the new world. Amidst the unexpected turn of events, a certain individual with piercing blue eyes, a colorful vocabulary, and a rugged charm manages to capture your attention. However, as tensions rise and emotions become complicated, you're forced to confess your deepest desires.

warnings|| MDNI; 18+ content, semi-public, blood/violence + mentions of, swearing, size kink (if you squint), smut, fingering/handjob (f!m!receiving), unprotected sex (p!v), rough sex, bodily fluids (sp!t/squ!rt), praise, dirty talk, begging, breeding, cockwarming;

masterlist. socials. rec.

It wasn't every day there were new people at the farm, let alone living people. However, when your older sister's shrilling voice called for your father and the all too familiar smell of fresh blood came wafting through the front door, you knew the peaceful salvation of your childhood home was no longer hidden from the terrors of the new world.

That had been weeks ago; before families were camped out under the shade of the oak trees in your front yard, before Otis had died, before you had met Rick, or before you had sat and comforted Lori as her son lay dying in the blood-stained sheets of your guest bedroom.

Long before they'd found any evidence of Carol's little girl being anywhere nearby, and even longer before a certain blue-eyed, foul-mouthed, redneck had caught your attention.

You'd heard him ride in with the rest of them. Watching him from behind the white, wooden column of the porch. Tanned, dirt and sweat-covered skin, dressed in a sleeveless button-up that exposed the toned muscles of his arms, which flexed as he flicked the kick-stand down and stepped off the motorbike.

It didn't take long for you to make friends with the rest of the group. Although, no matter how often you tried making peace with the shaggy-haired man, he always seemed to push you further and further away.

Perhaps he knew what you were trying to do. Like he'd somehow discovered your ploy. How you'd show up at his tent on the outskirts of the camp, dressed in those frilly little sun dresses, presenting him with something or another that always made his heart swell up in contentment.

No matter how short he was with you, or how many times he told you it was 'nun of y'er business', he still couldn't help but feel unworthy as he watched you frolic your way towards his islet tent.

It wasn't until he had heard you one morning, from the other side of the bathroom door, that was when he knew he was fucked.

Carol had demanded he'd shower, it did no good to have him 'stinking up every place he went' as she had put it. He had scoffed before eventually agreeing a shower might actually do him some good.

A place where he could relax for a short time, stretch out his strained muscles in the lukewarm water as he cleared his head from the millions of thoughts he had since their arrival.

The water was already running and he was praying that whoever it was in there, wasn't using up the rest of the warm water. He was about ready to bang on the door and call out a harsh 'hurry up in there'. That was until he heard the sweet sound of your voice from inside, suddenly rendering him speechless.

"oh daryl..." All high pitched and slurred, in that sweet honey-coated tone filled with urgency and pleasure. He wanted to move, he truly did.

You were just a girl, maybe 8 or 9 years younger than him. You didn't know what you were doing, acting solely on desire and lust, still foolish and ignorant about the real world.

That is what he told himself, as he imagined what you must've looked like in the moment. Hand shoved between the milky plush of your thighs, the same ones he'd caught himself staring at more times than he'd like to admit.

Skin flushed under the warm water and steam of the shower, face displaying a consuming look of pleasure, as your orgasm coaxed little whimpers and whines out of your parted lips. "daryl, daryl, daryl..."

He couldn't stand there any longer after listening to you finish. Rushing through the front door and down the porch steps before hastily grabbing his crossbow and wandering off in hopes of finding anything to distract himself from the blasphemous image of you.

Little did he know that wasn't the first time you had touched yourself to the thought of him.

Earlier that morning you'd woken up from an erotic-filled sleep, slick and sticky, panties clinging to the dripping arousal of your cunt as you rubbed your thighs together hoping to provide enough friction to lazily get yourself off.

You huffed and turned over a few times before giving up. Throwing the covers off and exposing yourself to the nipping cold of your bedroom.

You walked towards the window, hoping that the sight of the barely rising sun, was excuse enough to crawl back under the covers and rest for a few more minutes, before having to get up to start your early morning chores. However, the sight below you caused a chill to run up your spine, as goosebumps littered your skin.

He stood below your window, the picnic bench in front of him occupied by his crossbow, and the remains of his catch for this morning's breakfast.

The way he so effortlessly worked on his kill; cleaning, gutting, and skinning whatever poor little forest critter so foolishly crossed his path.

The sight of his muscular arms, as they flexed and strained, was alluring compared to his gore-full actions, and before you knew what you were doing, your hand snuck under the hem of your short, floral nightie.

Resting a hand against the window-pane as your other slipped into your panties. Your fingers played with the wetness of your arousal, coating them in your slick as you eased them past your slippery lips and into your weeping entrance.

You moaned quietly, pulling them back out to rub circles against your swollen clit and then plunging them back into your aching cunt again. Repeating the action over and over again, as you ogled the man before you.

You imagined what it would feel like to have his hands on you, instead of your own. Bigger and rougher, the callused skin of his palms running along the softness of your waist and hips, as he'd rock you back and forth on the pads of his fingers.

Gripping his forearm for leverage as you quivered against him. The pure strength of his bicep, which you'd grip at to keep yourself from collapsing into a puddle of sweat and cum.

His warm breath fanning against your cheek and neck, as he encouraged you with those sweet little praises. "You like that, huh? You like that, sweetheart?...Come on, sweet girl don't you want to cum?"

Your walls tightened as you became painfully close to the edge. Your legs trembled, knees buckling as you held yourself up against the glass. Your orgasm was bliss, soaking your thighs and hand with your release, as you muffled a cry, biting your bottom lip in order to keep yourself quiet.

Coming back down from your high you quickly stepped away from the window shamefully. Your skin felt hot and sticky, and even after just getting yourself off, you wanted more, you needed more.

You decided a shower would be best, something relaxing and isolate where you could refresh yourself, before having to go about your day.

It had been a few hours and you were now seated by the burning embers from this morning's fire, helping put together whatever you could find to make some sort of breakfast for everyone before they all got to work for the day.

You spotted Daryl as he made his way out of your house and back towards the camp. His hair, a darker shade of brown, as fresh water droplets dripped down the recently cleaned skin of his neck.

God, what you would give for him to let you lick it up with the flick of your tongue.

You imagined what he'd smell like, what he tasted like. His scent, wouldn't be clouded with any fragrance that distracted from his natural musk. His skin, warm and inviting against the drag of your tongue. You could feel yourself getting wet at just the thought of him.

Quickly you grabbed a plate and made your way up across the grass, stopping in front of him as he was headed towards the RV. You watched him freeze, his eyes casted down and away from you, causing you to frown at his refusal to meet your gaze.

"Here, I know it's not much... but you should eat something."

You offered him the small plate, only for him to hum and shake his head. "'m fine." You were concerned at his refusal. He was not a man of many words, but that didn’t mean dismissing you like this altogether. He'd normally just take whatever it was you were offering him, before going back to whatever it was he was doing.

"Look... everyone's eaten and you know nobody's going to be seen harboring back for seconds, given our circumstances." You laughed it off in hopes of lightening the mood. Only when you looked back at him, did you notice the look of anger take over his features.

"No you look... I don't know what ya' think this is, but we're not 'ere ta' make no friends. Our only priority is findin' a way ta' get the hell off this farm, and whether or not I eat this piss-pour excuse of a breakfast, is gonna change that. Ya' hearin' me?"

His words caught you off guard. They were harsh and filled with hurt, and knowing that those around you had most likely turned to look at him, once the sound of his voice had risen, was humiliating.

It was mean and patronizing, and you were embarrassed that he'd thought he could talk to you like that. Like you were just some ignorant girl. Like someone who didn't really know what was actually going on.

It didn't take you very long to flee after that. You had almost scoffed at him before shoving the plate of food into his chest and brushing past his shoulder.

You weren't going to let everyone see just how much his words had gotten to you, so you lifted your head and walked with poise back towards your house.

Only once you'd made it into the solidarity of your kitchen did you let out the breath you were holding. Cursing at yourself for not seeing it sooner, by letting the way he made you feel cloud your judgment of who he really was, who he really thought you were.

In that moment you decided for yourself to just push down this stupid little crush and focus on what was important. Helping get these people back on their feet, so they could get a move on.

You consumed yourself with chores the next few days. Helping Lori with laundry, Carol with any cooking, and even offered Andrea a hand maintaining the few guns your father had let them keep, while helping protect the farm.

She was pleasantly surprised at how much you knew about such weapons, but you quickly reminded her how you'd grown up and where exactly you were raised. This only encouraged her to teasingly call you a 'hick', before asking if you wanted to go shooting with her and Shane the next time they went out. You told her you'd think about it before excusing yourself from the RV.

That night you sat with them beside the dying fire, and it didn't take long before you felt the heat of a lingering gaze on you. However, this one was dark and grim, greedy and predatory. Unlike the light, pastel blue eyes you were so familiar with.

These felt thieving, like they were just waiting watching for the chance to get you alone, secluded and out of the keen sight of others.

You felt it best to turn in for the night. Walking back towards the house you weren't scared, far from it, you knew this farm like the back of your hand and yet you still felt unease.

The snap of a twig behind you caused you to gasp, as you expected a walker to step out in front of you and bite your face clean off. However, the sight of Shane emerging from the shadows was strangely just as frightening. Those temperamental eyes that looked you up and down, caused you to wrap your arms a little tighter around yourself.

"Andrea tells me you're good with a gun. Real good..."

Nodding compliantly, hoping it would satisfy him to cut the conversation short and allow you to escape inside. Except your silence only made him pursue you even more.

"She's giving me more credit than I deserve. My father taught me how to shoot, that's all." You quickly remitted.

Shane wandered closer and you took a quick look back at the house, trying to estimate how many steps you would need to take in order to get back inside if need be.

"What is your deal then, hm?"

"My deal?"

"I just mean, I'm trynna figure you out."

"I guess there's just not much to figure."

"Oh, but that's where you're wrong. I just want to know what makes a pretty young thing, such as yourself swoon so hard over that dirty old red-neck." You're shocked at the accuracy of his accusation.

"I think I'm tired, and it's getting late, and I'd like to go to bed. Goodnight Shane."

"Now just wait a min-Everythin' alright?" Daryl suddenly emerged from behind you and you'd suddenly grown frustrated.

You hadn't seen nor spoken to him in the last few days yet, here he was showing up to save you like you were some damsel in distress.

Dragging a hand through your hair and letting out an exasperated sigh. You watched as Shane stepped closer to the both of you. "You got impeccable timing, you know that?"

"Hell's that suppose to mean?"

"Nothin' man, just getting to know our hosts a little better, that's all."

"Yeah? Well don't."

Scoffing at both of the men, drawing their attention back to you. "I'm not standing around here to watch a cock-fight. Both of you, just leave me the hell alone." You left them at the bottom of the porch steps.

"Wait a sec... Just stop!... I'm sorry!" You froze, halfway through the door frame.

Slowly, you turned around to find Daryl standing at the bottom of the stairs, nervously scratching at the back of his neck.

"What?"

"I was pissed, 'n took it out on ya'. Wasn't right."

"Carol make you come up here."

"Nah, feel bad... didn't mean to hurt ya'."

You were genuinely surprised that he'd come back to apologize all on his own. Looking away from him seemed to be the only way to keep a smile from breaking out on your face. You nodded and hoped it was enough to get him to retreat, but he didn't.

"Hey..."

He called, making you look up at him through your lashes.

"When I say m'sorry, I mean it."

You nodded again quickly. "I believe you."

It was now his turn to nod this time, as he drummed his thumb against the side of his leg. "Only... you owe me another apology."

"Hmm?"

"That breakfast... was not piss-poor… made that with love." You teased, leaning up against the door frame.

He stifled a laugh and kicked at the dirt in front of him. "M'sorry 'bout that too then."

You couldn't help but flash a warm smile at him while you watched him fidget before you. Stepping back onto the porch and descending the steps until you stood face-to-face with him at the bottom.

You gazed into his eyes and despite the slight height you got from the stair, you found yourself still having to tilt your head up to meet his gaze. You couldn't help but feel a sense of curiosity, as there was an indescribable emotion hidden within them.

Rather than trying to put it into words, you decided to thank him. Affectionately rising up onto your tiptoes and planting a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Goodnight, Daryl."

Then with a smile, you made your way back up the stairs and towards the front door, as you finally entered the house.

You didn't sleep well that night, tossing and turning for hours before you eventually gave up on sleep altogether.

Once the sun began to rise you slipped on your boots and grabbed a sweater, hoping maybe an early morning walk could help you clear your thoughts.

They only really consisted of one thing, Daryl. Even though he apologized, that hadn't been the only time he'd been short with you. Sure, it was the first time he'd actually yelled at you.

You wondered why he had been so mean, what had made him snapping at you so early in the early morning, when you were just trying to be kind to him? What had happened that he was already pissed off about?

Coming up late last night when Shane had been trying to 'get to know you', and as much as he made you uncomfortable, why did Daryl feel the need to interrupt?

Did he secretly despise you that much that he had to ward off people from trying to befriend you? It confused you, how such a seemingly simple man suddenly became so complex.

You hadn't realized how far you had wandered until the sight of the old brick chimney came into view. You knew it was time to turn back when you'd somehow managed to subconsciously walk towards the one thing that was causing you so much troubled.

"What're ya' doin'?"

You gasped at the gruff sound of his voice. Turning around to see Daryl not too far from you. He looked well rested, like he'd just woken up.

"Couldn't sleep. Needed some time to think, figured a walk'd do me some good."

"So ya' wondered all the way out 'ere."

"I guess so."

He looked off from you, not having anything else to say, or maybe just not having the words. "Did I do something? I mean... to bother you or upset you in some way. I get it now that you're not one to make friends, but after you apologized… I just don't know what I did to deserve you making sure everyone stays clear of me."

"Like ya' talk with Shane was so friendly."

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

There was a pause as you waited for Daryl to speak.

"I heard ya'..."

Your face scrunched in confusion and Daryl sighed. He'd hoped you'd understood what he was talking about without having to go into much detail about it.

"Sayin' my name..."

Your eyes widened and you flushed bright red in embarrassment.

"I- I'm sorry, I thought the window was closed... I-"

"Window? Nah... in the shower..."

You became even more humiliated, not only by the fact that he had heard you touching yourself to the thought of him, but as you accidentally confessed how you'd done it more than just the once.

"Look y're a real pretty girl 'n all, but it just ain't right... With yer father lettin' us stay 'ere, it wouldn't be right."

"So you're saying if this wasn't the circumstance where we met, you'd take me to bed?"

"That ain't what I'm sayin'."

"Then what are you saying, Daryl?"

"That m'pushing 30 and y're barely 20..."

"21... 'n I'm not a child, Daryl. Not where it counts..."

"Shouldn't be sayin' that."

"Why? Why does it matter? We're both adults. There's not a soul in that house that would even give a damn. The world has ended, there are no laws, no morals to live by anymore. There's only wants and needs, and I don't want to be scared anymore... and I need you..."

You stepped closer to him, eyes never leaving his as you bravely confessed your feelings. "Tell me... Tell me that you don't need me."

You watched his pale blue eyes as he studied your face. It was as if he was almost trying to decide whether or not this was real, whether or not you were real.

"I can't... but I can't give you what you want either..."

"You can-No, I can't"

"What is it you think that I want?"

"Why me, huh?... What is it about me that you need?" He dismissed your question with one of his own.

"I see the way that you are... with Rick... with Carol. You want to protect us, I know that."

He tried to brush you off, turning around to distance himself from you, but you grabbed his arm, stepping ahead of him to stop him from walking away from you. "Don't run from me. I may not know what you were like before this, but I know who you are now. I know why you showed up last night..."

"Ya' don't know nothin' ." He spit out.

"I know you wanted to protect me. I know that's why you warded off Shane, and why you apologized. You might not know why, but I do. It's because you care. You care about me... and us, and this place, and you can pretend all you want like you don't, but you can't fool me, Daryl."

You hadn't let go of him and you reached out to grab his other hand. He flinched and tried to pull back from you, but you didn't let him. Bringing his hand up to cup your cheek as you looked up at him longingly.

"So stay with me... Tell me that you do need me... and don't let anyone take me away from you..." All he did was stare at you, his hand remained relaxed against your cheek.

You were about to drop it in defeat and sulk your way back to the house, but his hand flexed, fingers threading into your hair and pulling you closer to him. You closed your eyes as he rested his forehead against yours. His breath was ragged and you were afraid he was going to pull back and leave you all alone.

He nudged the tip of your nose with his before tilting your head back and finally slotting his lips against your own. Leading closer into him, your grip on his arm tightened and you tugged him closer by the collar of his shirt. His hand still in your hair, pulled you into his needy mouth as his arm wrapped around your waist to keep you firmly pressed up against him.

You put every last bit of your doubt into the kiss, hoping he'd take it all away from you. That he could somehow tell you that you were right without having to pull his lips away from yours.

His hands began to wander, gripping at you wherever he could. Brushing your hair over your shoulders, and pulling at the sleeves of your sweater to run his hands over the exposed skin of your back. Hooking your arm around his neck and kissing him fiercely as he leaned down into you.

You opened your mouth for him as his hands traveled down over your waist. He rocked you against him, pressing you into his hips causing you to gasp into his mouth at the feeling of his erection digging into your stomach.

His hands didn't stop, leaving behind a trail of fire in their wake as he continued to caress as much of your skin as he could. He took a step forward and you stumbled for only a moment before he lifted you off of your feet and wrapped your legs around his hips.

He led you both over to his camp, ripping open his partially zipped tent before ducking the both of you inside. You hadn't pulled your mouth from his neck, and when he finally set you on trembling legs you were able to see just how much damage you'd done to the heated skin.

He began stripping you of your sweater as you simultaneously worked on the buttons of his shirt, only you hesitated at the sight of the pronounced tainted skin on his chest. His shirt was pushed off his shoulders, hanging around his elbows allowing his arms minimal movement to clutch at your waist.

Your fingers traced over the scars causing him to flinch, reaching up to pull your hands from his body. He looked at your face, utterly surprised when it wasn't a look of disgust or pity gracing your soft features. Instead, a small smile and a look of admiration.

He let your hands slowly rest back against his heaving chest. Caressing your wrists as you went back to tracing the darkened skin. He closed his eyes when you'd touched a particularly deep one, shivering as fantom pain shot across his shoulder.

You froze and he opened his eyes to see you looking back up at him worriedly. He hummed and leaned closer, nudging his nose against the side of yours before kissing you softly. "S'okay... don't hurt."

You nodded, slowly pushing his shirt the rest of the way off his arms, letting it fall, discarded on the ground behind him. You toed off your boots as he led you back towards his cot. Placing kisses along each new area of your body he exposed to the chilled morning air, as he pulled off your sweater and slip.

It soon joined his shirt and his own boots on the floor as he laid you bare on his sleeping bag, which was accompanied by a few thick blankets and a single pillow.

He pulled back to look at you, kneeling between your parted legs. Your hair, fanned out around your head in a halo as your skin flushed pink. A few marks along your neck and chest, turning a dark purple, a harsh comparison to your delicate complexion. It caused his heart to beat furiously, as his chest filled with pride.

You whined and reached out for him hoping he fall back down against you. Only he took your hands in his and pinned them against the blankets. His fingers laced and gripped tightly onto yours as he dove back into your neck and chest to continue his assault on your sensitive skin.

Your back arched as he sucked and nipped at the tender skin of your throat and your hips rolled against his, chasing that feverish need for pleasure. He pulled away from you again and you almost cried, but at the rustling sound of fabric and the jingle of his belt you whimpered in anticipation.

He was back on you before you could even call out for him. Hands ripping your panties down your legs, caressing the soft skin of your ankle, and placing a kiss to the muscular physique of your calf. "Daryl..."

There it was, that oh so familiar plead of his name, laced with lust and desire.

"Again..." He demanded.

"Daryl?... please, Daryl..."

He crawled between your legs, resting against the pillow with his hands on either side of your head. His lips caught yours as you caressed his sides. Hands traveling over his back, only to find more scars etched into his hardened skin.

You moaned into his mouth, pulling him even tighter against you, grinding your hips into his erection, which strained against the fabric of his boxers.

He growled and kissed your lips deeper, ignoring the voice in the back of his head telling him to stop. Telling him that he wasn't worthy enough. That he didn't deserve the privilege of touching your flawless skin with his tainted hands, or pressing his roughened lips against your delicate ones.

However, as your hand caught him firmly around the neck, keeping him from pulling away from you, and your hips eagerly bucked against his once again, as a symphony of your pleasure flowed into his mouth, the voice fell silent. Drowned out and muffled by you, and you alone.

Your fingers toyed with the waistband of his underwear, teasing the trail of hair leading down from his navel, before slipping underneath the fabric. His breath hitched as your nimble fingers wrapped tightly around the base of his cock, tugging at him skillfully.

He leaned in, resting his forehead against your temple, his lips parted as his breath quickened. You continued to attentively pump your hand up and down his hardened length. The fingers of your other hand tenderly running through his hair, showering him with affection as your lips brushed against his flushed cheek, leaving a trail of lingering kisses on his heated skin.

"f-fu... Fuck..." He stammered, his hands tightened around the quilts, his arms trembling as he struggled to maintain his advantage above you.

He suddenly pulled your hand off from around him, pinning it back onto the bed. "S'enough... won't last if ya' keep that up."

He groaned, trailing his free hand down between your bodies, as his fingers parted your lips, playing gently with your dripping folds. The sound of his voice in your ear sent shivers down your spine, causing you to gasp in pleasure. You instinctively clung onto him as you tugged lightly on his hair in an attempt to encourage him.

Daryl only hummed into your skin, nuzzling his face into your neck as he continued collecting your arousal on the tips of his callused fingers, spreading your wetness around your swollen, aching clit.

If it were anyone else, you might have felt self-conscious about how wet he'd made you from something as simple as his hands against your skin, or how perfectly his body fit against yours, but with Daryl, all your thoughts melted away. Everything just felt so comfortable, so right.

His fingers circled the rim of your entrance, slipping gently between your lips. You guided him back up to your awaiting mouth from his spot nuzzled in the valley of your breasts, where he'd taken his sweet time kissing and nipping at the swell of them.

His mouth latched onto yours, sucking at your lips and teasing you by grazing his teeth over them softly. You couldn't help but revel in the comfort and pleasure of his touch.

His finger eased smoothly into your slick entrance. Your walls drawing them in with an eager clench as a rush of pleasure washed over you, causing you to moan against him. His fingertip caressed against the certain spot deep inside of you.

You arched your back in ecstasy as he suddenly added another finger. He stretched you even further causing you to let out a pleasureful moan that made him pause and instantly detach from your lips.

Looking at you in disbelief, he couldn’t believe the sight before him, the way your hips began to hump against his hand, aiding to the pleasure coiling in the pit of your stomach.

You were absolutely breathtaking in your blissed-out state. His fingers stilled causing you to whine in frustration leaving you craving their pleasurable drag, in and out of your walls.

He sat up, pulling them from your weeping cunt to watch himself as he spread your arousal around your messy clit. You nodded your head profusely. "Don't stop..."

Your chest heaved, rising and falling in anticipation as he slipped his fingers back inside of you. His thighs were tensing beneath yours, trying his hardest not to grind against you, lost in his own pleasure.

That's when you felt him, your knees tightened around his hips as his cock started riding shamelessly against your inner thigh. You reached for his face, getting him to look back up at you as you caressed his jaw. "Please, Daryl... I need you-I need to feel you inside of me."

His fingers pulled back out from your entrance, popping them into his mouth, and licking them clean. Hoping to satisfy his craving of you with just a subtle taste of your sweet cunt.

He gripped at your waist, thumbs massaging circles against your hip-bones as he imagined tasting you straight from the source.

His lips were back on yours in seconds, hands pushing his boxers down franticly, and before you had the chance to catch your breath he'd already lined up at your entrance.

The head of his cock smeared in your slick as he teased you. He could feel your warmth soaking him as he let out a labored sigh, wishing he could just stuff you full.

He began slowly pushing into you and you clamp down on him. Your gasp turned more erratic and you fisted the sheets. Pulling them from your grasp, he reached out gripping your hand once you let out a soft hiss from the stretch of him.

"Relax sweetheart, we'll go slow."

He started carefully, squeezing your hand, he felt a subtle sting as your nails pierced through the skin on the back of his hand. A melody of whines slipped from between your lips, at the feeling of his cock, as it slid perfectly inside of your walls, as he entered himself inch by delicious inch.

He leaned forward, nose brushing against yours. As you both panted against each other, it kept you anchored to reality as he finally bottomed out inside of you with a deep groan.

Then he waited, for an agonizingly long time, before you gave him the go-ahead. Bucking your hips up, begging for more friction. He takes his time fucking into you, long and slow at first. Reaching so deeply with each thrust of his hips, causing you to gasp every time he bottomed out.

You withered and squirmed beneath him, moaning incoherent nonsense as he pinned you to the bed. Crying out as your orgasm built up at an aching speed.

His hips moved faster at the feeling of your walls relaxing around him, fitting his cock like a glove. You moaned and wrapped your legs tighter around his hips, he hooked the hinge of his arm under your knee. Lifting it up higher, so you could feel him reach deeper inside of you.

He let out a grunt against the crook of your neck. He couldn't see the way you took every inch of him, but he could hear it. The sticky squelching of your pliant little cunt being speared open for him, and fuck, he could feel it.

Hot, wet, and tight around him. Grinding your hips in rhythm with his, as noisy wet clicks filled the background noise. Embarrassingly loud, from how slick you'd become as he stuffed you full of him.

Hanging by a thread as you used your free hand to claw at his lower back, leaving angry red lines behind on his skin, as you held onto him desperately. He groaned at the pain and yet he enjoyed it. The feeling of being so close to you.

Your thighs opened wide for him, puffy lips spread and swollen, sensitive, aching clit peeking out from them, dragging against the hair at the base of him.

All of you, covered in a glossy sheen of your own juices, as a ring of arousal collected at the base of his cock, dripping onto his thighs. "Don't stop, m'gonna cum. Daryl, don't stop!"

You could feel the coil inside of you snap, a string of cries escaped your lips as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. The high-pitched whine of his name. His lips consumed yours as he thrusted into you riding out your orgasm.

The convulsing clench of your cunt was his downfall. His upper body collapsing on top of you as he moaned out your name, before painting your insides white, your womb becoming nice and full with the weight of his release.

Reaching back down, he cupped his balls, massaging them. Causing himself to cum even harder. He began whimpering against your ear, and his sloppy wet kisses left behind a trail of drool, as he kissed down the side of your neck.

The two of you remained connected for quite some time. Basking in the sex-filled atmosphere of his tent. Your labored breaths and the cooing of the mourning doves, was your lullaby.

The heat radiating from the man caging you on the cot was bliss. Even as your skin was covered in a sheer layer of moisture you didn't want him to move from his place on top of you.

Your breaths began to even out and the gentle kisses he was placing on your shoulders and neck became less frequent. He began to sit up, and you felt his softened member start to slip from inside you causing your hands to tighten on his body, stopping his retreat. He froze at the sudden movement, afraid he'd hurt you somehow.

"Not yet... just- just a few more minutes." You whispered, pulling him back down to lay on your chest. The full wait of him felt safe, comforting. It was like you'd finally found solace after months of living in fear.

His fingers played with your wild hair, lulling you to sleep. Your hands on his back, mindlessly began running over his jagged scars, causing him to shiver at your unfamiliar touch, but he didn't stop you.

As much as Daryl hated what his father had done to him as a child, and the disgust he felt when looking at the lifelong reminder, your gentle hands were a beautiful relief in comparison to his father’s cruel ones.

There were so many things about you that were beautiful, so many things he just wasn’t used to. He wondered if that’s why he must've turned you away so often.

How when you offered things to show your affection towards him; books, food, clothes, blankets, sometimes even just your thoughts and feelings, he'd turn you away.

It was weird for him to experience such kindness from people around him and when a beautiful girl, such as yourself, suddenly came along and did it all, without asking for anything in return, it scared him.

He expected that after a while you’d start asking things of him. Things he'd have a hard time being able to give you. Things like friendship and vulnerability, things that oftentimes led him to get taken advantage of.

And yet as you laid beneath him he found himself wanting to give you such things. Wanting to be the reason you smiled so brightly at him, or laughed so beautifully. He wanted to feel the caress of your hands anywhere and anytime he could have them.

He hadn’t realized what exactly made him so wary of you in the beginning, but he knew now. He knew that you brought to life a part of him that he thought had died, a long time ago, long before the world had even ended.

Long before his brother had convinced him they were weaknesses, and even longer before his father had tried to beat them out of him.

"Would ya' leave with me?" He asked unexpectedly.

"What?"

"If... When we 'ave ta leave. Would ya' come with me?"

His words took you by surprise. You hadn't really ever thought about leaving the farm. Not that there were many places to even run towards, but still, the thought of leaving behind everything you'd ever known scared you.

Yet, you also knew that the farm wouldn't be safe forever. You knew that one day you would have to leave, and whether it was now; with Daryl and his group, or later; with your father and sisters. That was the real question.

"I don't know. I think there's more to it." You said.

"Why's that?"

"I can't leave my family Daryl... but I also know that what we have here won't last forever, no matter how badly I wish it could." You could feel Daryl shift against you, leaning back to look up at you as you spoke.

"I'm worried that if we're out there on our own, my father won't be able to protect us all, no matter how badly he'd try." It hurt for you to admit it, but you weren't fool enough to not realize the truth.

"It would either make us learn how to protect each other or find others to protect us... and to tell you the truth, I don't know how many people are out there, that are worth protecting back..." You felt tears well up behind your eyes, as a hitch caught in your throat.

"Not like you... or Lori and Carl... or Glenn... Carol... I'm afraid that God might've dropped you all on our doorstep and my father is just too blind to see it."

Daryl wanted to laugh at the mention of God. "Ya' think God did all this?"

"I'd like to think he did something. Whether that be bring the dead back walking or sending you here. Either one puts a strain on my fathers pride." You teased.

Daryl sat up and this time you didn't stop him. You winced as you felt him disconnect from you and sighed as his hands ran softly over your hips. "'mazes me ya' still believe in God after everythin'"

"I've got to believe in something." You said smiling up at him. He laughed and shook his head.

As Daryl's eyes fixated on you, it was evident that his mind was lost in thought. He couldn't help but admire your unwavering faith in something as unreliable as God, even at a time like this.

In this apocalyptic world, it wasn't God who would shield you from the undead. It wouldn't be God who'd courageously plunge a knife into their skulls or valiantly fight to protect you from any danger, but rather Daryl.

He would willingly place himself between you and the snapping teeth of a walker or stand as a shield, to the menacing barrel of a gun, if it meant protecting your life.

Even in a world as cruel and tormenting as this one, he was determined to make sure you had a chance to experience just a little bit more time.

"Then believe in me..."

He looked at you, really looked at you this time.

"Don't waste y'er energy believin' in somethin' ya' don't even know will protect ya' or not... Not when m'here..."

#you’re literally the best.#blushing and kicking my feet up.

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