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gutsby · 8 months

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Best Served Cold

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Since your fiancé can’t seem to keep his hands off of Lori, you decide Daryl is the perfect way to make him pay. Revenge sex has never felt so good.

Warning: NSFW. Attempted SA. Unprotected p-in-v. I don’t condone cheating (unless it’s on abusers lol). Semi-public sex and getting caught doing it in a tent 🫣 Based on this kickass idea from @dilfsandmartinis (I'm so sorry it took this long for me to post the story) !! 💓

Your man returned to your tent that night like he did most others: slick with sweat and too tired for sex. At least not again, not with you. He would undoubtedly claim to have been checking the perimeter, standing guard like a good leader should, but any blind man in that quarry camp could’ve seen he was just boning Lori.

A lot.

You were really more offended that he thought you stupid enough to abide by his lies than the fact he was fucking someone else. That part wasn’t new—his dick never knew how to stay in one hole longer than a month or two—but in an apocalypse? With his newly-deceased best friend’s widow? That was low, even for Shane.

Which was why you felt no compunction yourself as you slipped quietly from your tent toward the water’s edge that night, pink vibrator clutched tightly in hand.

Useful little thing that it was, a six-setting suction device that worked wonders on your clit, even underwater. You figured since Shane couldn’t be bothered with you or your sexual pleasure so long as the former Mrs. Grimes was occupying his time, you’d make use of this sex toy instead and start really leaning into the “self care” you’d been craving for so long.

The water was warm all the way up to your chest, and the air around you tepid. You moved around, treaded in place, and finally reached comfortable bearings a couple yards from shore. You relished the solitude and silence.

The moment you felt the toy come to life in your hand, you couldn’t help but smile. Exhaling as you brought the tip close to your center.

“Shit.” Even the gentlest setting too harsh on your clit, you nipped your lower lip and bit back a whimper.

You swirled it lightly on your inner thigh, tried painstakingly as ever to acclimate yourself to the buzz of the rubber, but damn were you sensitive. Almost too tender to be touched, too ripe with excitement and aching for the feel of something on you, or in you, or just barely skimming the surface of your skin underwater.

A low moan escaped your lips the second the head drifted back to your clit. Your toes curled into rough, rocky terrain underfoot, and your breaths started to quicken. You made a gentle motion with your hips—a sweet, semi-circular thing you’d been doing over Shane’s lower half as long as you could remember—begging for more friction, needing more of that mechanical hum.

You pressed the button for a higher setting. The peaks of your pleasure soared to new heights.

You were helpless to the trembling of your knees and felt immensely grateful for the water’s aid in keeping you straight. You pressed the rounded tip of the toy even tighter to your core and didn’t heed a thing around you as you sighed several expletives under your breath. A jolt of bliss washed over your body.

Your eyes had just started to close in the first throes of that wild sensation, when a new sound startled you.

“Ya done pissin’ or what?”

You shot a look toward the shore and saw a slightly less-than cheery individual standing at the edge of it, the toes of his boots grazing the incoming waves.

You froze in place. You hardly knew what to say.

“Ain’t safe fer you out here ‘n you know it. Come on.” Daryl beckoned you with one hand and started to turn.

At what point was it appropriate to tell him you were naked?

You thought he could surmise from the fact you were neck-deep in the water and refusing to move that maybe something more was keeping you in. Daryl seemed clueless, however.

“I ain’t got all night, kid,” he snorted, “’f you don’t hurry, Shane an’ the rest of ‘em’ll be out and— ah.”

Ah.

At the last, he stepped on a pile of clothes folded neatly on the shoreline nearby, undergarments and all.

So this wasn’t a midnight swim or a late night piss at all, but a full-blown skinny dip. He should have known you weren’t the bikini type.

Awkwardly, almost begrudgingly, Daryl gathered what clothes of yours he could and chucked them closer to the lake. Then he turned on his heels and stalked up the beach without another word—fuming, it seemed to you. Once averted, though, Daryl’s face betrayed a look of horror. Like a parent who’d just stumbled upon a box of condoms in their daughter’s sock drawer after swearing she was still a virgin.

In the few short weeks since you’d been thrown together in this mess, Daryl had practically taken to you like family. He hated Shane ‘Shit-for-Brains’ Walsh most days, it was true, but the fact that you were you, and times were tough, and nothing seemed to occupy Daryl’s mind quite like the thought of keeping you safe, that he had to keep you close at all times. He just hadn’t imagined your proximity would turn this intimate so suddenly.

“Keep up,” he spoke more sharply than usual. Didn’t even wait for you to dry and dress completely before snagging your hand in his.

You glanced at your taut, hardened nipples poking up through the damp material of your tank top and suddenly wished you’d brought a towel. Or a bra. Your shorts, too, clung to your ass like a second skin and made you feel extra bare before Daryl’s eyes—even if he hadn’t spared a look at you once as you’d traipsed behind him through the woods.

When you tripped, he held you up; when you nearly ate shit over several rocky spots, he carried you over them. His eyes never strayed toward your body, though.

Once you’d made it to the clearing where your group had made camp, Daryl lowered you to the ground and still couldn’t find it within himself to look your way. You shuffled uncomfortably on your feet, now standing inches away from the tent you shared with Shane.

“Thanks for...that,” you said, flatly.

Daryl managed a curt nod.

Before you turned in, you decided to venture a look at Daryl’s chest, and you felt an influx of embarrassment. The taupe-colored cutoff he wore as a shirt was soaked with water. Instinctively, you brushed your fingers over the stain—as if touching it might dry the fabric, or else mask your humiliation at being the cause. You tried not to evince a hint of surprise at how sturdy he felt.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Daryl.”

You hadn’t thought any man was capable of looking more afflicted than Daryl did before, but somehow, incredibly, he appeared even more ill at ease when you touched him. You immediately retracted your hand.

“’S’okay,” he managed. He would’ve given anything not to be where he was, or who he was, at that moment.

Just when another apology leapt to your tongue—feeling even worse that you might’ve crossed a physical boundary you shouldn’t have—a twig snapped close-by.

You and Daryl jumped in your skin. You turned toward the source of the sound.

Shane was tugging his pants into place, pulling the zip up in haphazard fashion as he marched out of the woods.

He’d either been blowing Lori’s back out (again) or off to take a piss in the bushes. By the looks of his dazed and drowsy expression, you guessed it was the latter.

“Got a nice rack, doesn’t she?” Shane observed, careless as ever.

He walked past the two of you and unzipped the tent.

“I was jus—” Daryl started.

“Don’t care,” Shane cut in, “Goodnight.”

You were amazed at the level of nonchalance your fiancé exhibited. On finding you soaked to the bone and touching another man in the middle of the night, the old Shane probably would’ve laid Daryl flat on his ass.

But overprotective, possessive Shane was no more.

Before disappearing into the tent, Shane reached for your elbow. You barely got another glimpse at Daryl as you were ushered inside.

The tent was re-zipped in an instant, and you assumed Daryl would be quick to leave the scene, too.

You turned and saw Shane fumbling to unscrew the lid of his canteen. Taking several big gulps before re-fastening the top, tossing the jug to the side, and letting out a sigh.

“You get a look at the hard-on he had?” Shane chuckled.

You almost choked on your spit.

“What?”

“Pitched a tent in his pants bigger’n this,” he returned, gesturing to the polyester enclosure overhead. Then he got back to his feet, walked over to you, and kept going, in spite of your perplexed expression, “He must really wanna fuck you.”

You blinked up at him, unsure if you were more baffled by Shane’s serene demeanor or the fact that you hadn’t noticed Daryl’s boner. You decided to overlook the erection for the time being.

“And you don’t...care if he did?” Instantly chiding yourself for the twinge of indignation in your tone.

“Nuh-uh,” Shane said. His hands came to rest comfortably on your hips, and he seemed to be hearing your words without really comprehending what you meant. As usual.

If he picked up on the irritation in your voice, he didn’t show it. He just rolled the denim of your shorts between his fingers and pulled you closer.

“This,” he hummed, fingers sinking between your legs, “is not for him.”

And Shane was community dick. Made sense.

You didn’t attempt to conceal your annoyance this time as you rolled your eyes and pushed his hands away.

“Well maybe if Daryl asked nicely…” you trailed off, starting toward the bed.

Shane stopped you before you could. He took a firmer hold of your sides and showed the first real hint of jealousy in his eyes. You were almost glad to see it.

“No,” Shane said, shaking his head. Then, snaking his touch back down your legs—with the fabric of your shorts fisted in his hands this time—he continued amidst your quiet protests.

You were gripping his wrists, trying to keep them from moving any further. But Shane was insistent.

“He wouldn’t get to ask nicely, because I’d blow his fucking brains out before he ever got the—”

“Shane.” You were actively shoving his hands off now. You didn’t mind this envious side coming back to the surface, but you would not, under any circumstance, be Shane’s sloppy seconds the same hour he’d fucked Lori.

“No. You— you smell like—” you cut yourself off before the woman’s name could leave your lips.

“Like what?” Shane snapped. Suddenly intrigued to hear what you had to say.

You tried to wriggle out of his grip, but when you couldn’t, and when he pressed you again, you sputtered some nonsense about his drinking—how he reeked of booze, not Rick’s wife.

“Thought you liked it when I fucked you drunk,” Shane grinned, voice dripping with condescension, “Said it gave me stamina.”

You’d said no such thing. You groaned lightly as Shane managed to pull your panties and shorts, together, to your ankles. When he started to take them off at your feet, he hardly seemed to notice your nails dig in his shoulders, silently begging him to stop.

“Think I should invite Daryl back over? Let him watch me fuck you stupid?” Shane’s mouth was hovering close to your center, hot breaths fanning over your lower half.

In any other situation, you would’ve craved him here: on his knees, ready to suck and lick and dick you down like he always used to do. But things were different now, you had to remind yourself. Apart from the walking dead invading your world, there was no Rick in the picture, no semblance of platonic feelings between his widow and your fiancé—you felt physically sick at the thought of Shane touching you now. You tried to stand the instant he threw you on the bed.

“Shane, I don’t wanna—”

“Fuck? Yeah, I figured,” Shane shrugged as he tried to peel your shirt off your body.

“Then quit,” you hissed. You were starting to fear the fabric might tear if you held on any tighter.

When it seemed evident you weren’t going to give in on the top, Shane let go and turned to his pants instead. Pinning you down with one hand, he unbuckled his belt as you whimpered and pleaded that he stop. The sounds only made the mound in his pants more pronounced.

The two of you had dabbled in CNC before, but this was not that. No safeword, no fallback, no trace of consent between you, and to be frank, you were starting to get scared. The second Shane freed his cock from his boxers, you felt a surge of panic rise to your chest.

“Fuck— STOP!” Without thinking, you jerked your knee.

You hadn’t meant to hit his balls so hard. But you did. And he folded in half, seizing with pain, while you took that as your chance to slide off the bed, slip on your panties—and hightail it the fuck out of there.

Shane’s cries pierced the night air like a blade through rotted flesh. You stumbled, half-blind in the dark, and blazed a reckless path through the tents all around you. Weaving in and out of neighboring spaces, searching desperately for any lone, dim glow of a lantern to tell you someone was awake to hear your pleas if needed. But sadly, no tent was alight but yours, and the entrance to that was presently being torn open once more as Shane staggered out there himself.

“Y/N!” he bellowed.

In your haste, you’d tripped over Glenn’s knapsack. You scraped your knee, scrambled back to your feet, and tried with everything in you not to make a sound as you retreated further from Shane’s voice.

You probably looked feral, weaving in and out of tents with your knee leaking blood and your pupils grown wide with fear. You scampered fast across the rocky campgrounds and made a beeline for the woods.

Until Shane’s footsteps fell heavy mere feet away.

Quickly changing course, you dove for the nearest tent and ripped it open. When you slipped inside, zipped it up, and went crab-walking backward like a panic-stricken animal, you hardly saw much of anything else.

Had your pulse not been pounding in your ears and your gaze not glued to the front of the tent, you likely would’ve gotten a pretty good laugh at the sight behind you.

At the very least, a chuckle or a smile or a slightly sheepish blush would’ve been supplied in a second, seeing someone wide-eyed and holding his cock in a death grip just inches from your rear.

You’d unwittingly scrambled into the tent of a man who’d just been beating his dick off furiously to the thought of you—and there you were, sitting pretty in pure, unadulterated fear for the sight of your fiancé any second now. When you turned your head, your hand flew to your mouth.

“Dar— oh!”

Like before, your heads snapped in the direction of a new sound, quick to sense that it was Shane, and this time, you went crawling over to the archer without a second thought. Hardly noticing his pants were down, you leapt into his lap.

“Y/N—” Shane hissed as he tripped over something outside. You heard a clatter and a bang, the sound of a few curse words sputtered in vain, and a groan. Daryl’s arms snaked around your sides and pulled you closer.

“What’ve ya gone and done this time?” he whispered.

“Told him no,” you murmured back.

You pretended not to feel the singe of Daryl’s gaze boring straight through the side of your head. Then a little lower, to your near-bare lower half and shaking legs. It didn’t take long for him to piece together what had happened.

“Y/N,” Daryl started, far louder than you could bear. You shushed him swiftly, ignoring the flare of anger in his eyes that told you he was currently conjuring up fifty different ways to kill Shane and just aching to act on it.

“Don’t. Please,” you said.

“Did he—”

“No. I...kneed him in the balls before he got the chance.”

“Oh.”

Shane was pacing outside, like he knew you were somewhere close. He called your name every now and then, drew near enough to send you rigid with fear. Then Daryl would hold you tight, stroke your hair, or else just graze his lips on your shoulder to let you know he was there, and eventually, the fright would subside. You nestled yourself into that touch and felt something far kinder than fear for the first time in a long time.

You felt aroused.

Ever more inspired by the sound of Shane stewing, fuming outside within earshot and the nudge of Daryl’s member against your barely-clothed core. Well…you were tempted, to say the least. You just weren’t sure if Daryl would be on board for being your lightning-quick rebound fuck of the night.

You sighed as his hips moved gently against your own.

“You think maybe—” you started.

“Yeah?”

“—you might…tell me what you were doing before I barged in here?”

Even in the dark, you could sense a blush creeping up his neck. You loved to see a man like Daryl flustered.

“Oh, uh, that?” he said in half a chuckle. Glancing down at his groin and going back and forth between two thoughts in his mind, most likely. Tell you the truth or come up with a half-assed lie on the spot.

“Just…jerking off to you.”

He never had been any good at a bluff.

Your face visibly brightened in the dim glow of the tent. You tried not to let your elation get too far ahead of you, though, lest your voice raise above a whisper and draw Shane’s attention.

“Yeah? What about?”

Daryl never thought it possible for a woman’s enthusiasm in a question to turn him on, but yours did. He looked to your lips and swallowed, suddenly at a loss for how to answer.

“I…well…”

“You’re fucking dead to me, Y/N. If you don’t—”

Your fiancé’s voice was as close, and as terrifying, as it had ever been. You eased Daryl onto his back.

“Were you thinking of this?” you teased.

You made that soft semi-circular motion with your hips and watched a brand new face contort with pleasure. The footsteps outside hardly registered in your mind any longer, as your attention was singly focused on Daryl.

He fought a groan in his throat as you grazed your slick heat over his length.

You coated him with your arousal quicker than even you had expected. You knew you were turned on, but never had it been like that, where you were damn near dripping sweet nectar all over a man’s cock. You let a little whine leave your lips.

You couldn’t help it; your cunt rocked back and forth over Daryl’s fat, throbbing cock and made obscene sounds as you did. The archer’s hands found your hips and gently guided you up and down as his own moans struggled to break loose.

You could’ve stayed like that forever, you figured—if you hadn’t been so fucking wet that the head of his cock slipped inside of your heat the second you and Daryl bucked your hips together. An inch was quick to stretch to seven before you could think or blink or do anything else but groan in pleasure, and suddenly, he was bottoming out inside you.

“Fuck!” Daryl hissed.

“Daryl!”

“Daryl?”

Fucking Shane, of all voices you didn’t want to hear in that moment. Fortunately, he’d heard Daryl’s voice alone and not the sound of your moan, calling his name at the same time, for entirely different reasons, it seemed.

Daryl gritted his teeth as you bounced on his cock,

“Yeah?”

“I’m looking for Y/N. You seen her, brother?”

Seen you, felt you, fucked you, yeah—he had.

Daryl closed his eyes and tried not to blow his load on the spot as you squeezed around him.

“No— no, I haven’t. Not since earlier,” he grunted.

“You sure?” Shane pressed, dissatisfied, “I heard her running around this way.”

You braced your knees against the ground and rode the man beneath you even harder, taking every ounce of resentment you felt toward Shane out on Daryl’s cock. Fuck if revenge sex didn’t feel nice when the object of your ire was standing right outside the tent.

You almost wanted to moan, wanted to whimper, but were quick to think better of it the longer you spent moving up and down his length. Seeing shades of lust in his eyes like never before, you just couldn’t bear the thought of having to pry yourself off any time soon.

Daryl sank his fingers into your thighs and sighed, leaving ten perfect crescents in their wake.

“Don’t you fuckin’ stop,” he murmured.

“Could ya— could you come outside and help me look?”

‘Come the fuck on’ seemed to be the silent, shared sentiment between you and Daryl as your bodies writhed fast against each other and your highs came close into view. You braced your hands against his chest and begged him not to answer with your eyes, but you also knew Daryl couldn’t not say something to him, either.

“I…I’m sure she’s fine.” Daryl tried, weakly.

He flipped you over so you were flat on your back, hands careful not to make much noise or cause you discomfort as he did. Cock never leaving your wet, greedy hole, he found it easier than ever to resume the pace you’d made above him—now pounding you quietly into his sleeping pad.

You gripped his back and, simultaneously, bit down on his shoulder to keep from letting out a shriek when he grazed a particularly sensitive spot inside you. Tried not to whine when he hit it again. And again. And again.

Shane was growing impatient. Hovered close to the front of the tent so you could see the outline of his shadow.

“You got something better to do, Dixon?” he snapped.

Yeah, fuck your fiancée, Daryl thought with a smirk. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him even deeper.

That light, airy feeling preceding ecstasy was close at hand. You wanted to give in—let the levee break and just relish the sweet sensation quick to follow—but you knew you couldn’t. Knew yourself too well to be a screamer not to hold on a little longer, until Shane had left.

But the way Daryl’s cock was pumping in and out of you at present made it hard, to say the least.

“Just…tired, ‘s’all,” Daryl groaned close to your ear.

“Tired from what?!” Shane jeered, “Wrist been hurtin’ from how hard you’ve been jerkin’ it to Y/N, huh?”

You almost burst out laughing. Daryl quickly cupped your mouth. Fucked you harder to shut you up.

And shut up you did; but not for long, you feared. The faster he pounded you, the more that coil in your stomach came to swell, and soon enough you might—

“Eat shit, Walsh.”

“Just help me out. Please.”

Daryl shook his head and fucked you harder, much to your chagrin. You didn’t want him to stop, but you needed him to, in truth, or that swollen thing inside of you just might get the better of you and burst. You pressed your hands to his chest and tried to whimper something softly, but Daryl just hushed you with his hand to your mouth and kept on at that breakneck pace. Your eyes rolled back, your legs started to shake, and if Daryl hadn’t had to tear his attention away to say something to Shane, he might have seen how close you were to blowing your cover…before it was too late.

With one more stroke inside your wet, sensitive hole, you felt a cord inside you snap and a flurry of wild, unbridled bliss take over, stronger than you’d felt in ages.

A shriek desperate to escape your throat, your teeth raked down Daryl’s flesh with the force of it, and, instinctively, the man yanked his hand away and yelped.

You hated to do it, but the feeling was just too good. Your lips parted to release one of the most lewd and obscene sex screams of your life—with Daryl’s name following over and over as you came.

Daryl’s eyes grew to half the size of his face, it seemed. Stilling inside you, feeling your sweet, hot juices flow down him in waves, he sat there and couldn’t quite decide if he was more turned on or terrified.

When Shane tore through the fabric of the tent and charged inside, he figured it out pretty quickly, though.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon one shot #daryl dixon imagine #daryl x reader #the walking dead #twd daryl #twd fanfiction #twd imagine #smut #shane walsh #shane walsh smut

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crxssbowcarl · 3 months

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A TRIM

carl grimes x female reader

summary: carl refused to let anyone near his hair after losing his mom, but when he desperately needs a trim he goes to the person he trusts most, you.

(intended lowercase)

warnings: mentions of losing a parent.

pure fluff

“a trim, got it?”

carl twisted around in the chair he was sitting on to face you, you could tell he was nervous and you understood why. he hadn't cut his hair since he was 13, lori used to give him haircuts and he couldn't bring himself to let anyone else do it after she died, until now.

you currently stood behind him, a pair of shears held in your dominant hand while your other held a comb and spray bottle. “yes, a trim, I got it. now, are you gonna sit still and let me start?” you teased, a brief laugh passing your lips.

he nodded, removing the bandage from around his face and setting it on the counter next to his hat. “yeah, just please be careful—”

“carl.” you interrupted, making eye contact with him through the mirror, taking in his worried expression. “I know how important your hair is to you and I will be very careful, I just need you to trust me.”

he caught his lip between his teeth before giving you a curt nod and straightening his posture. “okay.”

you gave him a reassuring smile followed by a gentle kiss to the top of his head before starting. you grabbed a section of his hair, spraying it with the water until it was drenched, repeating this until his hair was thoroughly soaked. you didn't have a lot of experience with cutting hair and you were beyond nervous, but when he came to you and asked you if you would give him a trim you didn't have the heart to tell him no.

you took a deep breath before grabbing a decent portion of hair, bringing the comb to it and running it through it, stopping about an inch from the bottom, holding it up so carl could see it, “how's that?”

“that's fine.” he concluded after a few moments of staring at it, closing his eyes tightly when you brought the scissors up to his hair.

you hesitated. you knew how important this was to him, when he told you stories about his mom your heart would ache for him, and his hair was one of the only things left he could relate to her besides judith and messing this up would break his heart.

the sound of the scissors snipping the hair caused you both to flinch, you watching the hair fall to the tiled floor.

you exchanged a glance with him to make sure he was still comfortable, and you continued, copying your previous cut over and over again until you had chopped roughly the same length of hair off of every section.

the bathroom was completely silent minus the sound of the scissors and you shuffling around, neither of you could bring yourselves to speak, both too focused on your movements to say anything.

eventually, you finished the larger part of his hair and all that was left was his bangs. you walked around so you could be face to face with him, examining the way his bangs framed his face. “okay..” you mumbled, grabbing the larger portion of his bangs between your index and middle finger using them as a guide and you worked on his fringe while trying to avoid getting any hair in the open wound on his face. once you were satisfied with how that side looked, you moved onto the other side, making a few quick snips before setting the scissors down and stepping back to admire your work.

“what do you think? did I do okay?”

he stood up, leaning closer to the mirror to examine his hair as you watched him anxiously, awaiting his reaction. you rocked back and forth on your heel, your hands interlaced behind your back, “carl?” you tried, becoming extremely paranoid that you had messed up, but your worry was quickly brought to an end when he wrapped his arms around you.

“it looks great, thank you.”

your worried expression was replaced by a geeky smile, and you returned his hug, giving him a tight squeeze. “oh thank god, I was so worried.” you laughed, pressing a kiss to the bridge of his nose,

“thank you, by the way.” he looked confused at your statement, tilting his head to the side slightly, “for what?”

“for trusting me, I know that this was hard for you and i’m glad you trusted me of all people.”

he ducked his head down and nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, smiling against the exposed skin, “i’m glad I did, too.”

divider by @saradika-graphics

masterlist

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 1 month

Text

Down Bad — Spencer Reid x Fem Reader (Smut 18+)

Summary: After seeing that her ex boyfriend is engaged to his “rebound girl”, Reader finds herself missing the comforts and pleasures of sex.

Notes: ahh!! @reidsbookclub thank you my absolute love for reading this ahead of time. your enthusiasm and support and love is so so so appreciated <3 and this is my piece for @imagining-in-the-margins Friends with Benefits challenge

Word Count: 6 K

Content Warnings: Alcohol consumption (not drunk), oral sex (female receiving), p in v sex, (kinda) dom Spencer ( hopeful ending?), unprotected sex, some negative self body image (reader), finishing inside with birth control, breeding kink, possessive language, dirty talk/crude language (I know Spencer's probably a tab bit OOC but this is me trying here)

Down Bad

There was no way for my situation to turn crappier. My finger stood, haunted and frozen above my phone screen. The bathroom sink ran unattended as I attempted to defrost my heart. It had dropped to my stomach as my eyebrows shot up.

I still followed Lydia, my ex's younger sister on Instagram and Facebook. Her brother might have turned out to be a terrible communicator, but she was cool.

Just a couple of months ago, she was a student in Geology and the last time we spoke she was writing a paper on Ancient Rocks in communities that used aqueducts systems. What you could do with a Master's in Geology was beyond me and my office job. I'm sure she hears too many "you must live under a rock" joke from her dad. He was always cracking the most dad jokes that have ever dad-joked; I missed it. And Lori's South Chocolate Gravy Pie. I didn't even want to know how many sticks of butter it took.

Lydia had her arms thrown around a tall, leggy, blonde girl that looked like her name was Sarah or Hannah. The post was in black and white and Hannah/Sarah showed off her gorgeous ring.

lydia-nielson99 The best honorary sister ever <3!

When my ex and I dated, the idea of fine dining was a night out at a movie sharing a bucket of popcorn and an honest-to-God-attempt at moving hopping. We talked about marriage; he'd slip on fake rings made from grass blades braided together meticulously on my finger, kiss it, and promise me that he'd earn me something worthy of my finger.

The post had only been up for 43 minutes and already had gotten a hundred or so likes. I scrolled the comment section, ignoring the rushing tap, to read the comments from my friends, our couple friends. They must've liked Sarah/Hannah better, or at least liked her and Shane better together then Shane and me. I haven’t heard from them since the breakup.

Aren't most geologists analog? I slipped my phone back into my pocket and washed my hands, wishing that I could crawl under a rock, one of those ancient ones that Lydia studies.

I couldn't decide. I couldn't decide between a red that would give me a headache I could feel in my teeth or straight gasoline that would make my face, and heart, as equally numb.

I wanted something quick and something strong. I was so, so, so over Shane it wasn't even funny. But that didn't stop him from being the love of my life, to the loss of my life. I just wondered, as I roamed the supermarket with my metal carriage holding tequila, limes, Kraft Mac and Cheese, and frozen pizza bagels, if he told Hannah/Sarah the same things.

If he would sit across from her, now probably able to splurge on a dinner fancier than Taco Bell or Denny's, and hold her hands. Would he move her ring from her middle finger to her ring finger like he did on mine?

God, I cringed, dropping in a box of Double Stuffed Oreos, I let him, shit talk me under tables with promises of rings and cradles in the other breath.

I reached for the pint of strawberry as another text pinged. Internally I knew that I would soon face an onslaught of future wine moms just jumping at the chance to "check in with me" during "such a challenging and emotional time" for me. I ignored the message, but it pinged again.

Spencer: Penelope said that the new season of that show you like is on. We can watch it tonight. I think that Hotch is actually gonna let us out at a normal time.

Spencer, my roommate, always texted with formality and correct grammar. I actually think that it would be impossible for him to do anything, but use proper spelling and grammar.

Unlike certain geologists, Spencer is actually analog. When I was searching for a roommate after my break-up, our mutual friend Penelope put us in touch. And just mere months later we've formed a friendship that most days is closer to a partnership than it is to anything else. Friends were hard for me, and relationships even harder. Looking back, I think that allowed Shane to bulldoze through boundaries I didn't even know I should have.

Spencer, a certified genius and self-described technophobe, couldn't tell me the purpose of Instagram, let alone that my ex-boyfriend's sister posted a picture with her newest soon to be sister-in-law, Sarah/Hannah.

I dropped a pint of Rocky Road ice cream and looped around for an extra box of Kraft Mac and Cheese before replying back to Spencer.

Me: Worst. Day. Ever!!! Ice cream & carbs @ 7

I stared at the bottle of tequila, understanding that ever since my 31st birthday, me and excessive drinking due to external crises would result in bloating, headaches, backaches, anxiety, and an entire weekend of recovery. Maybe instead of several shots, but I already finished half of the bottle of red I bought as a bottom of the ninth decision.

"Tequila?" Spencer mused, dropping his bag on the table. "This must be like Defcon 4? And I should know, I work in national security."

I grunted, my fingers drumming against the table. The cheap speaker connected to my phone plays sad breakup music. I saw Spencer's wheels turn as he sat down with me at the table.

"Want boxed Mac & Cheese?" I asked, standing up to scoop some of the dinner into a plate for myself. I didn't seek it out often, but there was something familiar and comforting about Kraft Mac & Cheese. "I know it's got a lot of shitty stuff in it. But I'm actually going to lose my mind tonight."

My voice turned shrill and unsteady. And my eyes flooded with sharp, salty tears. Spencer stood and then backed away, his eyes and face melting in mutual pain. "What happened?"

"Shane's getting married."

"That explains the tequila."

I laughed. Spencer didn't offer any condolences as the seconds ticked and ticked. Instead he looked at me. He must've noticed the groceries. The Oreos, ice creams, and boxes of incredibly processed macaroni and cheese all screamed classic crisis for me. Being as smart as he is, Spencer could probably have told something about me within weeks of meeting me.

"Well, I already drank some of that red wine." I said. "The tequila doesn't sound like a good choice. But bad choices can be fun choices when you want to hide under a rock for the rest of your life."

Spencer still didn't offer anything, he kicked off his shoes and grabbed a bowl from the cabinet. "No tequila."

“You’re no fun." I huffed, grabbing my bowl and heading to the living room. "You promised me new episodes of The Queen's Court."

Spencer still frowned, his arms crossed as his steaming bowl of processed cheese pasta sat to his side on the counter. "I didn't think that Shane still was someone you thought about."

I sighed.

“It’s understandable. He’s marrying the girl he started dating right after breaking-up with you.”

I didn't think about Shane, not that often though. But he still was my first love. The love I shared with Shane was something he stole from me. I had given him all that youth for free; now I was thirty-one. Don't get me wrong, thirty-one is young, I don't feel old. But it's this weird, almost off-putting subliminal feeling when all of my friends either smell like weed or little babies.

"I don't love him. I don't want to be with him."

Spencer had rolled up his sleeves, revealing his forearms. He had a couple pictures of himself when he was younger. Him with his mom at one of his many post-graduate celebrations. One with his co-workers at a bar. He changed a lot; in pictures of the past he was thin and lanky. But now, when he would wear pants or cardigans or button downs with the sleeves rolled up, I found it difficult to not stare in appreciation. My sex life with Shane was good, consistent, and effective. While it might sound clinical to some, I think we both enjoyed knowing that we both knew how to, simply, get the job done for each other. I must be missing sex an awful lot to be getting flushed at the sight of Spencer’s arms.

Two years older than me, Spencer had had a life harder than most people. Penelope explained to me that he was finding it hard to live alone after he was falsely incarcerated. And working the hours he did at the BAU, he found it hard to find someone okay with someone coming home all hours of the night.

Like Spencer, I hated living alone. So together, we built a little home as roommates, as friends, and somewhere along the lines, as partners. And over the last couple of months, Spencer had never brought a date home. I had one hook up about two weeks after we moved in together. It was fine, but not enough to tempt back onto the horrid, vapid, devoid of anything promising landscape that was Bumble and Hinge.

"I just..." I bring my face into my hands in embarrassment. "I miss having someone to come home to who wants to see me."

Spencer crossed through the living room, bowl in hand. He sat criss cross on the floor like he did most nights. "I want to see you. I always want to see you, Y/N."

"You know what I mean, Spencer…And if I'm being honest...sex. God, I miss sex. Good, consistent, effective sex from someone that knows me."

Spencer and I never talked about sex. When we would watch movies that had sex scenes in it, neither of us would talk. One time we watched a movie starring whatever current Hollywood Pretty Boy had captured the hearts of the Internet at the time, and I commented that I would "ride that cowboy into the sunset." I remembered looking at Spencer for his reaction. Usually he would blush or roll his eyes or kick me playfully in the shin for being crass.

But that time he didn't. Instead, his jaw set, grinding firmly and unyieldingly. After that I didn't make sexy jokes or talk about sex in front of him. I thought it made him uncomfortable, till now I suppose

The music changed, and the breakup anthem of the century played. I stood up on the sofa, solo cup in hand and swayed to the music as Spencer stood below.

"You want sex?" Spencer asked. "We can have sex on this sofa right now if that's what you want. I mean, how much wine have you had?"

I busted out laughing, sipping the red wine from my solo cup. I didn't bother for a fancy wine glass. Besides, it was cheap and . And clearly it was working if it made me imagine Spencer Reid, my hot, stoic roommate with dreamy brown eyes, offering me sex.

"Spencer! Come, dance. Please!" His eyes shifted over my body. And he must have noticed the way my knees wobbled under the insecurity of the sofa cushions or the way my eyes must have been glazed and sparkly.

He obliged me, and his hand wrapped around mine. He raised my hand above my head to twirl me and then walked me down from the couch. "Let's get you on level ground. I hurt my leg a couple years after I started the BAU and it's no fun healing up."

He sat me down on the couch and placed a throw blanket on my lap. My bowl of Mac & Cheese was missing, but returned back to my lap, reheated. Spencer also replaced my solo cup, cutting me off, thankfully, from alcohol for the time.

"Peach flavored electrolyte water. And tomorrow I'll make you breakfast." He offered, sitting down on my right as he started the show.

"I didn't mean to be annoying and buzzed. I know you don’t like it" I said, not looking at Spencer. "I don't love him. Or like him. Or even want to be with him. Ugh. No, I just...I want…sex."

Spencer nodded, not even looking at me as the scene between the Queen and her lady's maid wore on. I kept trying to convince Spencer that the Queen was actually the villain and the warring clan would take over and let the series run on and on for an infinite amount of seasons. But it was campy and dramatic and exactly what I needed as I licked my, apparently, very open and painful wounds.

"What's the matter?" I asked, pausing the television. "You look pissed off."

"You know that he was the one that lost out when you guys broke up." Spencer's eyes didn't meet mine, even though the television remained paused. "He didn't deserve you. Not if he didn't know how goddamn lucky he was when he had you."

I don't let my heart think this means anything."What?" But I feel my cheeks prickle with

heat, just like they did when Spencer, albeit jokingly, offered to have sex with me.

"I said, it's his loss. If I had you, I wouldn't ever lose you, Y/N."

"I'm nothing special." I admit. I wasn't the most positive or confident girl, in my mid twenties I went to therapy for a good three years to sort out some baggage from my childhood. We all have something and mine was having a hard time seeing myself. I couldn't maintain positivity, to my brain it was better to remain neutral than to jam positivity down my throat that I couldn't honestly accept.

"You're not nothing special, Y/N." Spencer's voice cut through, sharp and confident. He sat up, his body sliding so close to mine that his knees touched my thighs. "You're the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. And you're smart. And funny. You make me laugh like no one has during a time in my life when I was convinced no one would be able to."

Our apartment isn't big, but it's enough space for Spencer and I to feel like we're could interact when we wanted, which was most of the time. But there was enough space for us to find our alone time when needed.

As Spencer's knees rubbed against mine and his soft eyes met mine, the room seemed to collapse. It was as if all the air was sucked out.

“And I am so...I've never been happier to have you be the last person I see before I go to sleep and the first person I get to see when I wake up. And if I...and if I had that with you the way he did? I wouldn't have messed it up."

"Spencer…" He raised his hand, showing me his palm, a sign that I think signified he meant no harm, but as he words, heated and charged sliced through me, I could feel them ricochet upon impact.

"I know…But, when I said I would fuck you on this couch, Y/N, it wasn't an empty promise. I meant it. And it wouldn’t have to mean anything.”

Spencer shifted on the couch. It creaked with his weight. The bowl of Mac & Cheese burned against my leg— even through the throw blanket. My heart was racing and racing till it skipped a beat. It nearly stopped. He sounded so sure of himself. I wanted to laugh it off again, as if the thought of me and Spencer hooking up…no fucking on the sofa was something comedic or entertaining.

“Are you…Spencer…are you sure?”

I tried to keep my voice steady, unwilling to let him know that the thought of his hands on my body lit a fire inside of me, a fire that I had yet to challenge. But God do I want to tame it. Sex with Spencer would be messy and complicated.

Spencer’s eyes narrowed in on my face. I would’ve thought that being stared at so intensely would have made me want to sink into the couch so I’d be as forgotten as stray hair ties and pocket change. But I wasn’t. Spencer’s brown eyes, liquid bronze bore into me. I felt a hot excitement wash over me that I knew was arousal.

“Yes.”

“Is it bad that I want you to kiss me?” I sighed. “It’s bad timing for either of us. But…”

“But you want me to kiss you?” I nodded and Spencer moved closer to me on the couch. “You want me to help you forget how that man has made you hurt.”

“Spencer…” Before I could rescind my desire, not that I would ever think about it, his hand cupped my cheek. Spencer’s thumb brushed against my jawbone as his eyes scanned my face. I could smell his lavender mint body wash; crisp and clean.

His mouth was anything, but crisp and clean. It was hot and dirty. Spencer kissed me with a hunger that couldn’t be sated with just one kiss. I knew for the moment his lips touched mine, I was done for. I wasn’t a whiskey drinker; I hardly knew what it even tasted like. But Spencer’s kisses felt like it. He doesn’t drink, but his warm body was flush against mine and I tasted the heady, smokey warmth of a strong cocktail. His arms and torso were thick and solid.

I brought my hands up to his neck and carded my fingers through his scalp. He groaned, the vibrations tingled against my lips as he kissed me. Spencer’s teeth tugged at my bottom lip, pulling it out before he kissed it again. He shifted so his back was against the couch and I was hauled up to his lap.

“There you go, baby.” Spencer said. His hands were large and imposing against my back and I could feel their heat through my shirt.

My muscles and resolve transformed to liquid when he called me that. I could feel my heart surge and lurch and leap as Spencer’s lips nipped against my skin. It was so good, so warm, so achingly wonderful that I felt myself wondering if I could do this over and over. I loved my vibrator and I would continue to love my vibrator long after this once-in-a-life-time situation with my roommate would end. But there was nothing like straddling a man’s lap.

And Spencer Reid was a sight to behold. I knew he used to be skinny, but in the years that I didn’t know him, Spencer had grown up. He filled out his pants with his strong thighs and softer stomach. His pants were strained and tented. I grinded down, enjoying his haughty moan in my ear.

I arched my back, exposing my neck as Spencer’s wet, hot mouth pressed kissed along the column of my throat. Feeling him grin as he kissed me I tugged at his hair sharp and hard. His grunt is a mixture of surprise and pleasure. I didn’t think that he’d be this vocal but with me writing in his lap I felt him try to hold back.

“Just touch me.” I whined, kissing Spencer. “Please just touch me.”

His pants tented against my core. I tensed at the feeling of his erection. My pajama pants and underwear, though thin, offer only a sliver of the friction I desired. Spencer’s fingers, quick and nimble, didn’t hesitate to undo the drawstring bow.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” Spencer murmured, kissing my temple. His lips are like a tattoo kiss as he resurrects something inside of me that I had long buried. “Sit on the couch.”

I scrambled to sit, my body acting of its own accord as Spencer’s words rattled through me. He was so confident, so sure, so certain. And his hands never left my body. It was as if there was some internal pull between the two of us. He sank to his knees and swung my right leg over his shoulder. I lifted my butt and he slid my pajama pants off my legs. Tossing them to the floor, Spencer licked his lower lip and looked at me as if I was good enough to eat. I supposed that we were about to find out just exactly how good I was.

“Open up for me, baby girl.” Spencer whispered, his breath landed on my skin and made me jump. “Let me see just how pretty you are.”

Spencer Reid had a dirty mouth. My cheeks and chest and belly burned with arousal. He kissed along the edges of my panties. Spencer’s middle finger dragged along my underwear, teasing my clit through the cotton fabric. With the patience of a saint, Spencer tormented both of us. He looked at me as if he could commit me to memory. His eyes were heavy with lust and something that I swore could mean something more. But that line of thinking had red wine written all over it. It wasn’t drunk. Hell, I wasn’t even buzzed anymore.

“Jesus, I’m a lucky fucking bastard.”

Yet, I sat there. With my legs spread, held open by Spencer’s large hands, practically humming with need and desire.

“Please. Please. Just touch me.” I begged, beyond caring if I sounded wanton with need. Spencer smirked as he hooked a finger underneath my panties and slipped them down my legs. And there I sat, legs spread. Finally he obliged. With two fingers, Spencer dragged them up my exposed core. The heel of his hand brushed against my clit. His skin was soft and his fingers deft and skilled. I closed my eyes as the pleasure took control of my body.

Spencer slipped a fingertip inside of me. He could feel the wetness dripping from my cunt. I grabbed his wrist, forcing him to hold his hand against my core. Our eyes met and I could not tell which one of us decided to let his finger sink inside of me. I watched as he slipped inside and released a throaty moan. My cries were extinguished by Spencer’s unyielding mouth. He pumped in and out, in and out, before slipping out of my cunt all together. I lunged forward at the sudden loss and was met by Spencer’s wry chuckle.

“I am going to eat your pussy. And you are going to cum against my face with your legs around my shoulders.”

I groaned. It’s as if Spencer knew that my brain needed to be switched off. He nipped at my inner thigh. Blood rushed throughout my body and I felt my pussy heat at the sensation. Spencer’s soft breath was hot against my skin as he kissed. He licked a line up my aroused core before flicking his tongue over my clit. It was a teasing, tormenting motion that coaxed a wave of pleasure to build. He’s a man possessed, so far gone that I didn’t even attempt to hold back as a moan rises in my throat.

“Jesus. You are a sight to behold. I’m going to show you how a man takes his time.”

As if he could possibly spread me apart even further, Spencer squeezed my thighs. Clearly he wanted to see all of me. Taste all of me. I could feel a coil tighten in my lower stomach and as Spencer lowered his mouth to my core, I felt the coil snap.

His licks aren’t shy and timid like I imagined. They’re purposeful and powerful. And threaten to melt my carefully crafted guard. He’s already gotten me well past the point of foreplay. I’m so wet that I’m sure cock that tents his pants can slip inside without much resistance. But he didn’t stop. His tongue continued lick and nip and suck against my most intimate area.

“Is this all for me? So wet. So pretty, sweetheart. Your cunt is dripping for me.”

I panted, unable to form a coherent thought as Spencer’s heated gaze spread over me. “All for you. Only for you.”

“Well in that case, I think I have a job to do.

All I could see was red. His hands gripped my thighs. I hated my thighs, usually. They’re too soft and squishy and usually ruin most pairs of pants eventually.

“Fucking hell.” Spencer cursed as he sunk two fingers into my needy cunt. “You’re so hot and tight for me, Y/N. Look at you. All splayed out. All for me.”

“You don’t have to do it until I finish.” I blurted out. “I—I know this isn’t….I want tonight to be for you as much as it is for me.”

Spencer’s eyes shifted.

“Ssshh, shhh,” He cooed. He looked up at me with his eyes big and blissed out. It was almost too much for me to handle. I watched as he kneeled in front of me; pants had become too tight from the moment my fingers groped him. At this point it was nearly impossible to withstand.

“I’ve thought about this way too much for us to rush this. I’m going to take my time with you, baby. You are going to ride my face like a good girl.The only thing that’s keeping me from cumming in my pants is the thought of burying my face into your pulsing cunt followed by my fucking you raw with my leaking cock.”

I yelped as he and sucked along my inner thigh. My skin was impossibly soft and tempting. “Fuck. Fuck, baby. You’re perfect. You are a fucking dream.”

I fisted his hair, feeling the familiar rush of pleasure from my head to my toes. For a while it only set my own bedsheets ablaze, but now it spread to Spencer. He groaned against my core, still lapping me up as the wall of pleasure threatened to come crashing down.

One second I was moaning, feeling myself toe the precipice before I teetered over. The feeling built and crashed before I could even enjoy it.

“Fuck! No. Damn it.” I cursed myself for not being able to climax, despite the down right sinful things Spencer was hell bent on doing between my legs. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I can’t…sometimes I have a hard time.”

“Don’t worry,” Spencer assured, his thumb brushing against my kneecap, “We’ll find our rhythm. Together. Anything you want. And I think I might actually die if I don’t get inside you this second.”

I laughed, dragging Spencer up by the shirt collar. He placed his hands against my hips and pulled me forward for a kiss.

I tasted myself against his lips and it turned my on beyond belief. “I want you. I’m on the pill and I want you. It’s awful timing because I don’t have any condoms and it’s a terrible idea but—”

I’m cut off by Spencer’s lips again. His mouth seared against mine, hot and needy. “I’m clean. I want this. I want you. So badly, sweetheart. So bad.”

I nodded, my mouth unwilling and unable to leave Spencer as he knelt in between my legs. He stood to his full height and took my hands. “I know I have promised to fuck you on this couch, but I have a bad knee and once I’m buried inside you, baby, I don’t think I’ll be able to hold back.”

“My bed’s made.”

Spencer’s hands didn’t leave my waist as I walked him to my bedroom. I should’ve been more embarrassed as I walked with him, considering I looked more akin to Winnie the Pooh than a sexy hook up. But once I felt a sharp sting on my ass, I quickly realized that Spencer thought the opposite.

“Don’t blame me.” Spencer said. “With that ass you’re lucky I haven’t had the sense to take you over my knee already.”

I turned, facing Spencer and standing with just an oversized pajama shirt covering my chest. His hands hovered over my waist, pulling me towards him by the fabric of my shirt. “I need to see those tits, baby. They drive me fucking wild in the morning. When you’re sitting on that damn counter with your messy hair and no bra. You’re a sight to behold, baby.”

“On one condition.” I presented, attempting to act as if the dirty words that fell between us had no effect on me. “Those pants? They find their way to the hamper. And fast.”

Spencer chuckled as his fingers brushed stray pieces of my hair away from my face. He touched me with such tenderness that I could feel myself craving it long after it was gone. He dropped his pants, followed by his boxers. I meant to tease him about the mini double helix DNAs printed all over his boxers, but I was effectively silenced by his erection.

I felt him the entire time I sat and made out with in his lap. I could feel how hard and thick and long he must be, but seeing him out in the open made my body lurch with need. He devoured me with his lips, pushing me down into the bed as his quick hands rid me of my shirt. Spencer’s teeth met my nipple, nipping and twisting it to elicit the dirtiest moans from my lips. He smiled, sucking marks into my skin that would last even after all what stood between us shattered.

Licking my lips, I could still taste myself from his kiss. Never feeling anything quite this intense with anyone, I suddenly felt so naked and bare. But Spencer’s calm hands, big and gentle, soothed me wordlessly.

“I need you.” I begged, wanton with need, “I need your cock so bad.” I wasn’t a begging woman, but as Spencer pressed the tip of his cock at my entrance I figured that anyone can learn how to relent now and again.

Sweet kisses to my sweaty skin replaced his dirty words that made me flush. As Spencer hovered above me, I drank him in. His eyes were hazel, but sometimes, depending on what he wore, they were brown or green. I quickly unbuttoned his top, eager to have his warmth spread all over him. He was thick and solid— all man. From the muscles in his back to the furrow of his brow and the slight curl pattern to his hair, Spencer sucked all the air from my lungs.

I was weightless. I was floating. I was soaring.

When he finally slid into me it was with an excruciatingly slow speed. “Don’t wanna hurt you.” He mumbled, a hand brushed my hair and a pair of lips kissed my forehead. “Give ya a chance to see what you can handle.”

Emboldened, I wrapped my legs and interlocked my ankles around Spencer’s butt. He lunged forward and his forehead dipped towards my breast. His kisses were fast and erratic as I felt him sink deeper and deeper inside of me.

“You’re so thick…ah!”

“Oh fuck.” His voice was as raw and as affected as mine. “It’ll be fine, darling. You’re so perfect like this. Taking this cock like a good girl. I know how to make it better for you.”

His thumbs, rough and sharp, circled around my clit helping me to take his cock deeper and deeper. I whined, desperate for the relief and embarrassed at the way I’m at center stage. Spencer took me, made me his and I’m nothing but a mess for him. My bones are liquid as he reaches out for my hand.

It was like there was a blueprint to my body. I had it locked away somewhere. But somehow, somewhere along the way Spencer figured out where it was stored. He read the blueprint. And he knew exactly what to do to make my foundation crumble. With each stroke of his fingers against my clit or pulse of his cock in my pussy, he knew exactly what I needed.

Spencer’s lust filled voice rang clear. “You feel close. I’m so close. Can you come for me? Huh? Show me how you play with that pretty little pussy. How do you do it, Y/N?”

His hands and fingers dug into my lush body with an unrelenting desire I wasn’t accustomed to. Magic fingers. God. And I magic fucking cock. I grabbed his hair, dragging him down to my lips as I teased my clit. Looking down to where our two halves met nearly sent me over the edge. My cock swallowed Spencer’s thick cock, it was hot and erotic and I watched with my mouth hanging open in pure, unadulterated desire. My pussy, wet and hungry for more, begged him for more. I grabbed his ass with my unoccupied, dragging my fingernails down his skin as I begged for him to fuck me harder.

“Harder. Spencer. I need it.”

Spencer brought his face into my neck, kissing and biting my neck as he pounded into me. The angle set rockets of pleasure from my core to my toes, spurring me on as I practically chanted his name. Spencer moaned, his teeth sharp and mouth hot and heady as his kisses grew more and more frantic.

His thrusting was still sharp and calculated as his cocked continued to fuck me. “God, you look gorgeous when I fuck you. All fucked out from my cock. My girl.”

I liked the way he called me his. It was nice to be claimed. To be wanted and desired so badly that two letter little words were tacked on. It was a tiny word, but it changed the entire meaning. It was the sort of word that could make foundations falter and buildings collapse and roommates morph into something else entirely. Endorphins and hormones and who else knows what coursed through my veins.

It was just me and him. Together in a limitless space that neither of us would care to ever leave.

“So close.” I groaned and Spencer knew well enough to just continue rather than to change anything up. “That’s it, baby. Oh! Fuck. Spencer.”

My high came crashing down around me. I felt my cunt clamp around Spencer’s cock as he continued to thrust into me. His eyes watched me with an analytic level of observation. I knew he had a good memory; one that refused to allow him to forget much of anything. But as he watched me fall apart, naked and vulnerable and oh so aroused, it was like he was trying to commit me to memory.

“Come inside. Fuck! Spencer. Please. I need it. I want it.” I begged him, desperate for him to climax inside of me. I wanted to see what it would feel like to have his cum dripping from my needy, spent pussy. I wondered if it would feel different, if it would change something, something fundamentally.

His voice was hoarse and strained as he came, shooting spurts of hot cum into my cunt. It was unabashedly erotic, watching him fall apart with his bare cock stuffed inside me. “Fucking, hell. It’s never been like that before.” He kissed my jaw, holding me in place by my chin while still sheathed inside of me. It was a lovely feeling. Full and safe. I must have been so drunk on him because I thought I could stay like this forever.

The silence that fell between the two of us lingered for several months. Spencer’s fingers danced along my hip bone and up to my rib change. His eyes were closed and his hair was matted with sweat against his forehead. He had creases near his eyes and deep, well set-in bags under his eyes. I wondered how inappropriate it would be for him to spend the night with me. Naked of course. I don’t think either of us could handle having it any other way.

I never fucked my roommate. Nor have I been ballsy enough to have “feel better” sex with a friend. It’s not like I expected him to lay out a red carpet and get down on one knee after he gave me a handful of (earth shattering) orgasms.

“Y/N.” Spencer breathed. A beat passed before I dared to reply.

“Spencer.” He stirred beside me, his hand resting against my thigh.

“I think…I think we’re gonna need to try that again and again and again…” He rolled over onto me, kissing along my jaw. I felt the pads of his thumbs against my bare breasts and sighed.

God, help me. He’s my man.

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ashtheketchum · 2 months

Text

● Bad girl ●

Daryl Dixon X FEM.Reader

Era: Season 2, farm

Summary: Daryl had been badly injured while searching for Sophia and your daddy had ordered Daryl to stay overnight in your house. The archer had his own room with a bed and you took care of his wounds. But one time you had sneaked a peek into his room while he was jerking off and he caught you.

Warnings: +18 CONTENT, FEMALE Reader, spanking, fingering, AGE GAP (Daryl is in his late 30s, Reader is 20 years old), teasing, perv Daryl, masturbate, Reader watches Daryl masturbating

Words: 2.5k

Masterlist!

___________________________________

PoV (Y/N):

The world was ending and, as my daddy would call it, "sick" people were running around. But suddenly a group of survivors came to us and they brought an injured boy to us. Apparently Otis had shot him and another girl was missing. My daddy took care of the injured boy and meanwhile the survivors were allowed to live with us in the front yard. They were not allowed to enter our house except for Rick and Lori, the parents of the injured boy.

I was the middle daughter of the Greenes. Maggie was my older sister and Beth was my younger sister, but I still wasn't allowed to do much with the survivors. It kind of annoyed me, but I could understand my daddy, after all we didn't know these survivors. But one survivor seemed very interesting to me. I think his name was Daryl, but I didn't see him very often. He looked for the missing little girl every day and only came back late at night. Inside, I already gave up hope of getting to know him better, but one day I got my chance.

One day Daryl came back badly wounded and he had also been shot by Andrea. Apparently he had also received one of his arrows in his side. My daddy took care of his wounds and now he had to lie in our guest room. While my daddy took care of his wounds, I brought him food and towels to wash himself with.

But while I was with him, I hardly spoke to him. I came in with a "Hello" and left with a "Ask if you need anything.". But not because I was afraid or because I didn't want to talk to him, I just didn't dare. Even though he sometimes looked at me with a non-grumpy expression on his face, I didn't dare say more. But it didn't seem to bother him, he actually seemed to enjoy the peace and quiet. But I really wanted to talk to him.

But today I wanted to do it differently. I had some food in my hands for Daryl and I was about to knock on his door when I suddenly heard a soft moan coming from his room. At first I thought he was moaning because of the pain, so I quietly opened the door so it was ajar. I quietly looked in to see if Daryl was really moaning because of the pain. But when I saw why he was really moaning, I turned bright red and my cunt started to throb and tingle.

Daryl had his back turned to me, I could see his bare back, which was covered in scars. I had noticed these scars many times, even though he constantly tried to hide them. Sometimes I had to come into his room when he was sleeping to bring him new clothes or leave his food there. My eyes sometimes fell on his broad back and, accordingly, on his scars.

Daryl's right arm moved up and down very quickly, while in his other hand he held a white cloth. He pressed it close to his face, probably to muffle his noises. Although I didn't have much experience with sexual things, I knew enough to know that Daryl was jerking himself off. Although I couldn't see anything, his noises were enough to make my panties wet. I put the food I wanted to bring him on the floor and then my hand wandered between my legs, under my skirt. I slowly pressed my middle finger against my clit, through my panties, and a quiet gasp escaped me. I did my best to be quiet, since everyone was still near the house. Not inside the house, but close. And Daryl was still behind the door.

The sound of skin slapping against each other became faster and faster and Daryl's breathing became faster too. As his hand moved faster, my movements on my clit also became much more faster. I closed my eyes, completely lost in the feeling of masturbation. My panties became wetter and wetter and my legs began to shake while I wished and imagined Daryl was moaning my name. My legs eventually gave up and I slowly knelt on the floor. On the other hand, I could briefly hear Daryl moaning very loudly before I heard nothing more. But I couldn't stop touching myself and imagining Daryl moaning my name, his rough fingers massaging my clit and stroking my skin. With my eyes closed, I gasped a little louder, his name also escaped my lips sometimes.

God, I was so lost in thought that I actually heard him say my name. "(Y/N)?… Hey…" But soon I was surprised by reality when I felt a rough hand on my shoulder. I immediately jumped and looked up at Daryl, his cheeks bright red. He looked at me confused and a little annoyed and I already knew that he knew what I had just done. But he also seemed uncomfortable, because his cheeks were bright red and his hands were shaking slightly. Maybe this was just the aftereffects of masturbating. "D-daryl…!?" Shocked, I pulled my hand away from between my legs and looked at his plate, which was next to me. The food had probably gone cold by now.

"I-i…! I can explain…!" I stuttered harshly, while I held my hand that had been satisfying my clit until recently. My fingertips shone slightly from my arousal seeping through my panties. But I didn't want Daryl to see them, even though he probably already knew what I was doing.

The archer remained silent, he just looked between my legs. There was something sparkling in his blue eyes before he turned around and looked down at me. At first I was afraid he would tell my daddy and I would get into so much trouble. "Come with me." Daryl then said suddenly. Without waiting for my answer, he went into his room and sat down on his bed. Swallowing hard, I got up anyway, taking the plate with me so that no one would get suspicious. Once inside the room, I put the plate on the bedside table and stood in front of Daryl. He looked down briefly before looking up at me, I couldn't even read his expression. "Ya were watchin' me, righ´?" He asked suddenly.

I didn't think it was possible, but my face turned even redder than it had been before. Swallowing hard, I looked down at the floor, feeling incredibly uncomfortable that he was now confronting me like this. The last time I had felt so pathetic was when Maggie had caught me kissing a picture of my favorite actor at the time. But this situation was a whole new level. But I didn't wanted to lie to Daryl, he was a good man. "Y-yes… I-I'm sorry, I didn't want-!" "Lay over ma lap. Now." His words confused me even more. Had he just told me to lie on his lap so that my butt was in the air? But I didn't contradict him, I just nodded silently.

I moved hesitantly towards him and knelt down on the bed next to him. At first I looked at Daryl quietly to make sure that this was really what he wanted. But his dark blue eyes looked at me stubbornly, as if they were telling me even more forcefully that I should finally lie across his lap. So I nodded slightly before I lay across his lap, my hips now over his thighs and my butt was stretched up a little. "'S yar family in yar house?" He asked as he lifted my skirt. Now I felt completely naked in front of him and my shame grew more and more. Daryl could now not only see my ass, but also my wet panties. "N-no…" I answered his question anyway. "W-why-!? Ah!” I gasped loudly when I felt him slap my left butt cheek.

It wasn't a hard slap, but he wasn't gentle either. It was hard enough to make me gasp and whimper, but not hard enough to hurt me. Another slap, this time on my right ass cheek. Whimpering, I dug my nails into his bed cover that was underneath us. "Yar dirty, ya know tha'?" He suddenly asked. I couldn't even answer his question before he slapped my ass again. I pressed my legs together tightly, even though these slaps hurt somehow, they also aroused me at the same time. I felt myself getting even wetter and my lower abdomen tingled strongly as I felt his slap on my ass again.

Whimpering, I pressed my face into his bed, but this was also a mistake. The bed smelled like him. How could it not smell like him, he was lying in this bed the whole time. Daryl's smell made my eyes roll back slightly and my whimpering turned into a quiet moan. While he slapped my now red skin with his right hand, his left hand held my legs down, as I sometimes lifted them out of reflex. "Dirty girl… ya like tha'?" He asked suddenly. A quiet whimper escaped me again, but I didn't answer him. Yes, I liked it, but I didn't want to admit it. Daryl remained silent for a while before he lifted some of the fabric of my panties and let it slap against my skin again. "Yar so goddamn wet…" He growled quietly.

Before I could react, Daryl pushed my panties aside, now he could see my wet pussy. "D-daryl…" "Shhh… be quiet." He said, in a stern but at the same time gentle tone. I hadn't known Daryl for long, but I believed and trusted him. It was dumb, yeah. But I didn´t really care. I could have pushed him away at any time, his grip wasn't firm or hurtful. He slowly let his finger slide through my wet folds before he pressed his rough finger against my clit. Panting, I pressed my legs together tighter and whimpered a little louder. For a while, Daryl massaged my clit in circular movements and I kept moaning and whimpering quietly. "D-daryl, please…" My voice came out quietly. At first I thought he hadn't heard me, but when he slid his fingers to my entrance, I got a cold shiver.

"Ya wan' it here?" He then asked, circling his finger around my entrance. Breathing heavily, I nodded slightly before pressing my face into his bed covers. His scent immediately filled my nose again, and he slowly pushed his finger into me. "Fuck, yar tigh'…" Daryl murmured quietly as he slowly began to move his finger. I was wet enough that he could start right away and I didn't feel any pain, it just felt weird. "D-daryl…~! G-god…" I murmured quietly as my grip on his bed covers became tighter and tighter.

Daryl just growled softly before he curled his finger slightly. He gently pressed his fingertip against my wet, tight inner walls and the hairs on my neck stood up. At some point Daryl added a second finger and he moved his fingers much faster now. Moaning, I pushed my ass even further towards him, which made him slap my ass with his other hand. Little tears of excitement came to my eyes, the mixture of his fingers inside me and his slaps on my ass provoked an orgasm in me. My breathing became faster and stronger while my legs trembled more and more. "Ya cumming?" The archer asked as he slapped my ass again.

"Y-yes…! P-please~…!" "Please wha'?" "P-please, make me cum~!" I moaned loudly and trembled even more. Daryl moved his fingers as fast as he could and pressed his fingertips against my special spot, which made me see black for a moment. Daryl slapped my ass once more and hit my special spot once more before I moaned loudly into his bed and came around his fingers. My head was spinning as Daryl slowly pulled his fingers out of me and gently stroked my ass. "'re ya good?" I heard Daryl ask in a soft voice.

Humming, I nodded slightly, but I was still trying to recover from the orgasm. I had touched myself before, but I had never been so overwhelmed by an orgasm, if I ever had one. "Yeah, yeah… I'm good…" I murmured quietly. I lay still for a while, Daryl adjusted my panties a little and pulled my skirt down again so that it covered my ass.

When I finally got myself together, I slowly climbed down from him. My face was still bright red and my legs were shaking a little. Daryl just looked up at me quietly before looking down at his food. "Can we… do this again?" I asked uncertainly and then looked at him. Daryl remained silent for a moment before turning back to me and looking at me again with his unreadable expression. "If ya wan´? Jus´… don´ tell yar old man." A certain joy and hope spread through me, but I didn't show it, I just nodded. Then I left his room again and closed the door behind me.

Somehow everything went a little too fast for me, but I didn't regret it for a second. So I went back to my room with a big grin to change my panties.

PoV Daryl:

I stayed in bed for a while before looking at my fingers, which were still wet from her orgasm. Something stirred in my pants again as I hesitantly put my fingers in my mouth and tasted them. God, she tasted as sweet as she looked. Of course I knew that she had been interested in me for a long time, but I never dared to speak to her properly because of our age difference. But this situation that happened recently made my heart beat faster and I could now dream about it every night. How her pussy wrapped tightly around my fingers, how her ass slowly turned red with every slap and how she moaned my name. God, I was already looking forward to the next time.

#daryl #daryl dixon #daryl twd #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #twd #twd daryl dixon #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead daryl dixon

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heathermason6060 · 2 months

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Daryl Dixon x f!Reader Smut: Matchmaker Merle

Warnings: slight drug use, mentions of Lori, Daryl is a virgin, Shane being Shane, No use of Y/N, unprotected sex

Summary: Merle tries to get Daryl laid with an old family friend. Apparently, Merle is a master matchmaker? Buildup to smut.

Notes: Sorry for having the buildup so slow, I'm really bad at porn without at least a LITTLE plot lmao

You were allowed a little leeway your first day at camp. Glenn had found you, confused and lost, covered in dirt and blood after the bombs had gone off and separated you from your friends and family. You were on the highway, like everyone else, but as soon as they saw the city being lit up, all hell broke loose. They started acting like animals. Running and screaming, looting. The dead coming back to life didn't help much either.

On your second day, you were expected to start pitching in. You didn't mind helping, it was the way Shane approached you that rubbed you the wrong way. You offered to help hunt, fish, and go out looking for supplies, but he just laughed at you. He laughed like you were a child asking for a gun. He handed you a brush and sat you down beside Carol, who was washing clothes at the bottom of the quarry.

You found comfort in familiarity. Which came in the form of something extremely unexpected, Merle Dixon. Maybe it was because you'd seen each other a few times at the corner store back near where you lived, maybe it was the fact he had respect for your folks, but when you were taken back to camp he didn't treat you the way he treated the other women.

He wasn't respectful or chivalrous by any means, but he didn't treat you like a piece of meat. He didn't constantly try to get in your pants or speak to you in that slimy demeaning way he had with Andrea or Amy. You were grateful for it, even if you did catch him staring at your ass more than once, because he was the one thing that made you feel a little more at home with the group.

You'd never met his brother before. You'd seen him once, at the small mechanic shop near the corner store you'd occasionally see Merle in. Rednecks were anything but rare where you grew up, but something about Daryl felt different. He was quieter, more of Merle's shadow than his own person. But you knew just by looking at him that he was anything but somebody's shadow.

He saw you on your second day, after you'd done your morning “chores” and went to sit next to the campfire. He was carving something, maybe a bolt for his crossbow, and he barely looked up when you sat down across from him.

Daryl looked up again, a spark of recognition in his eyes. His voice, strong and firm, called your name as if it was a question.

“Yes?” You could see the exact moment the realization clicked that he did in fact remember you.

He didn't know much about you at all. He knew Merle knew your folks, and you lived pretty close, but he'd never actually spoken to you before.

He did like to watch you, though, you'd always go into the corner store next to the mechanic shop and buy a coke and a bag of chips at lunch. He thought you were the prettiest woman he'd ever seen. Merle had a different set of words he'd prefer to use for you, but Daryl thought they felt too nasty. You weren't white trash, you were pretty, out of place, and the words ‘hot piece of ass' just didn't fit you.

“Shit. Didn't think it was you when they said your name yesterday.” His fingers absentmindedly rubbed the length of his stick, looking over you a few times as he tongued the inside of his cheek in thought. “Huh. You seen Merle yet?”

“Yeah, I got here yesterday morning.” You answered, the day before Daryl had been gone most of the day hunting. By the time he got back you were already in your new tent, something that Glenn had made sure to pick up when he brought you back to his group.

“What happened? Your folks alright?” He asked, knowing it was strange for you to be here without your family and friends.

“I have no idea. Don't remember much. We were real close to the city when the bombs went off, all I remember is fire and screaming and I woke up in the back of a gas station.”

He nodded again, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he listened.

Daryl wanted to stay with you, talk for a while, having a familiar face made him feel like less of an outsider. But from the corner of his eye he saw Shane with his hands on his hips in that stupid pose he liked to do when he was about to give someone attitude. Daryl looked back to you and gathered his crossbow and bolts, muttering a quick excuse about needing to go hunt and that he'd see you around. He couldn't stand Shane, he'd only known him for a few weeks, give or take, and he was doing everything he could to avoid the wife fucker.

Shane gave you a talking to that evening, warning you about the “backwoods rednecks”, even though you knew it wasn't out of the kindness of his heart. It was just another way to control the people in his camp, something he got off on doing. He didn't trust either of the Dixon brothers, that was for certain, but going out of his way to ‘warn’ you? It took everything in you to just nod and say okay.

“When you gonna tap that, baby brother?” Merle's voice and the way he said it made Daryl cringe. He needed to do a better job about not staring at you so blatantly.

“Not my type.” Daryl lied through his teeth, picking another strip of stringy squirrel meat from the stick he'd used to roast it over the fire.

The Dixon brothers usually had a smaller, separate fire away from the main groups. It was mostly Merle's idea, he'd tell Daryl ‘they're not like us, keep your distance, we're just redneck trash to them.’. Not that Daryl gave a shit. He mostly thought the same anyways.

You were at the group fire, sitting beside Andrea and Amy, who were busy chattering about how they wished they could catch some fish instead of surviving off tree rats and canned peas. You didn't mind it, even though you preferred larger game, meat was meat. You ate your squirrel like it was a gourmet dinner, something Daryl took note of.

“Not your type? Hah! That's bullshit and we both know it. She's everybody's type, boy, you better get on that before someone else does.”

Daryl wasn't sure who Merle was referring to. Glenn could barely speak to women, T-Dog was far too respectful, Shane was so far up Lori’s ass he had shit in his ears. (That's so gross I'm so sorry)

The sound of harsh sniffing had Daryl looking away from you and back to his brother. He wiped the white residue from his nose and offered Daryl his large knife, containing another line.

“Nah. I'm good.” Daryl waved him off, not feeling like being on uppers around all these people. Made his temper even shorter than it already was. “Careful with that shit, if Shane sees-”

“He ain't gonna do shit about it. I'd like to see him say somethin’.” The fact Merle was always looking for an excuse to butt heads had Daryl on edge. “Take it, and go take her off in the woods before I do.”

It never took too much demanding from Merle before Daryl would give in. It was a fatal flaw in his character. He looked up to him and whatever he said went, even when he didn't really want to. So he took the coke and worked up the nerves to talk to you.

You'd just finished washing everyone's stupid dirty dishes and went into the woods to piss when you saw Daryl again. You gasped as you walked around the tree you'd used for cover and saw him walking through the treeline, worried he'd seen you. But he was too focused on his steps, and that put you at ease.

You walked up the half-assed trail to meet him, not feeling like chatting next to your pee puddle.

“Hey, you going hunting?” You asked, slipping your hands in your shorts pockets.

He shook his head as he reached you, snatching a stray stick out of his hair. “Goin’ down to some of the old shops down the road. Tired of all these canned peas. You comin’?”

You eagerly nodded, happy to be away from the group. They were nice enough, but since you normally hung around Merle, they treated you as someone they didn't fully trust. Especially Lori, Shane and Dale. The amount of times you caught Lori staring daggers into you every time you were within ten feet of Carl was starting to drive you insane.

“Been wanting to get out and do something for days. Can't fucking stand Shane's micromanaging.” You said as you walked, wishing you would've known you'd be going on an impromptu supply run. You only had your knife, you'd prefer to have your Ruger your father had given you. It was in the RV, where Shane had taken it to ‘clean’. You were more than suspicious that he just didn't want you carrying a gun around camp.

Daryl snorted. “Yeah. Can't stand that asshole. What kinda man-” He stopped himself, shaking his head.

“What?” You looked over at him, careful not to trip on the multiple storm blown branches from the larger trees.

“Nothin’. Just don't like ‘em.”

You were silent for a few minutes as you thought of something to say. You know, in apocalypse type situations, you mainly think about securing your next meal, how to not get killed in your sleep, how to protect your friends and family. But here you were, trying to think of what to say to a man you were steadily growing attracted to. You always thought he was cute before this, but seeing how capable he was, how he was so sure of himself, it was a side to him you didn't expect. It was like he was one of those people always secretly hoping for an excuse to go live in the woods and live in anarchy.

“How attached are you to this group?” He asked, catching you off guard.

“Not at all. Can't stand most of them. Why?”

“Just thinkin’ about leavin’. Don't belong here with these people. Lori screamed at a damn snake the other day and got the kids all riled up.” He had a visible look of distaste on his face. Of all things to scream your head off at in an apocalypse, wildlife wasn't on your list.

“Are you asking me to come?” You asked, unsuccessfully attempting to hide your excitement. The idea of splitting off with the Dixon brothers seemed your best bet, even if Merle was, well, Merle. You knew you were probably one of the only women on earth that didn't have to worry about him constantly trying to get in your pants. What you didn't know though, was that he was trying his damnedest to get his little brother laid, even if you were the daughter of a family friend.

“Yeah. You don't belong here either.” You didn't know if it was true or not, but it felt true to you.

“Sure. As long as I'm not gonna be a burden, or anything.” You knew you'd need to rely on the two of them for protection and some food, at least until you got used to your new life. You adapted fairly quickly.

“Wouldn't’ve asked if you were.”

“Alright, well, if you make up your mind, let me know.”

You arrived at the first store, a small gas station much like the one the two of you used to frequent back then. It was fairly untouched, but you knew it wouldn't be that way for long.

You broke into a bag of jerky, thankful it was Daryl with you and not anyone else. If someone gave you a speech on taking care of the group before yourself you might just take off on your own without Daryl.

He scored a bunch of chips, some cup noodles, and a 6 pack of beer for Merle.

Instead of going back like you'd originally planned, you talked each other into going further off down the road to an old Dollar General. You stored your stash in a hollowed out log next to the road so you wouldn't need to carry it the entire time and carried on.

“This was a great idea.” Your tongue was stained red from sour patch kids, you went through five bags and gave Daryl the greens and yellows.

Daryl licked the sour crystals from his fingertips and grunted in agreement, tossing the empty bag over his shoulder off the roof that the two of you had gone up to to indulge in your spoils.

You laid on your back and sighed, surrounded by empty snack bags and wrappers. “Fuck. I needed this.” Neither of you cringed at your corny comment, because although a cliche, you really, really did need this.

Daryl hadn't eaten much besides the gummies, thanks to being pressured into taking the coke by Merle. He cursed himself for it, wishing he had the nerve to just say no and stick with it.

He glanced over at you, your body orange in the light of the setting sun. You still wore those cute short Bobbie Brooks shorts he'd always seen you wearing around town. His eyes drifted to your legs and he let out a soft exhale, wishing he was as silver tongued as he thought his brother was. Even if the ladies rarely appreciated Merle's filthy flirting, he had to admit his one liners were pretty impressive sometimes.

You opened your eyes and used your hand as a shield from the sun to look at him. You'd barely caught him staring at your legs, and felt a smile tug at your lips.

“You wanna fool around?” You half joked, prepared to laugh if he turned you down. But the look on his face told you he really, really didn't want to turn you down.

He froze for a moment, his eyes looking anywhere but you, his heart hammering against his chest. His thoughts ran frantic, from Merle telling him to have sex with you, and to you, who he was terrified to have sex with. He was suddenly very grateful for the coke he'd taken, and it clicked in his mind why Merle had been so insistent on him taking it. He knew he wouldn't last three minutes without it.

“You serious?” He asked, his brows knitted tightly together from the sun and in concentration as he read your face.

“Yeah, why not?” You shrugged, sitting upright so you didn't have to keep squinting up at him. You looked cool on the outside, but on the inside you were barely holding it together. You'd never thought of Daryl this way before, given you'd only seen him once before all this, but now that you were, it felt like you were about to potentially have sex with the hottest man on earth.

“Uh, yeah, I guess.”

Awkward was an understatement. Daryl didn't know what to do with his hands. His dick had been hard off and on the whole trip with you, despite the coke. He didn't know what would feel good to you, something he found himself oddly concerned with. His only experience with women was watching them getting fucked in porn, so he tried it that way.

Your eyes widened in surprise when he quickly turned and leaned over you, his hands slipping up your shirt. He choked out a gasp, looking down at the outline of his hands as he squeezed your tits. You were caught off guard by his sudden boldness, and the way he was roughly groping your chest wasn't helping. You grimaced, about to tell him to ease up, but he caught your mouth in an unexpected kiss before you could speak.

You were way too horny to care about how messy his kissing was. Truthfully, it was pretty hot, filled with so much desire and lust that it didn't matter he was inexperienced. The fact he was this eager just because of you had you moaning into his mouth.

He took that as a sign he was doing something right and rolled your nipples between his fingers, doing what felt right. He pinched them, making you gasp against his lips, and he couldn't hide the crooked grin from his face. He pulled back just long enough to start unbuttoning your shirt.

You took over for him, not wanting him to get impatient and rip off one of your only good shirts. When his eyes landed on your chest he whimpered, he fucking whimpered! You groaned at the sound and pulled him back against you by his shoulders, sinking your head into the crook of his neck to kiss the skin there.

He hadn't expected you to do anything to him. In the videos he watched, most of the time the dude just rips her clothes off and fucks her in different positions for half an hour while she screams and moans like she's hurt. He hated that sound, the over exaggerated noises, he much preferred the noises you made.

You laid down on your back, grateful the sun had sunk below the tips of the trees so it wasn't so bright anymore. He was on you in a second, now kissing your neck, eager to give you the same pleasure you were making him feel. The moan that rumbled in your chest made his heart jump, knowing he was doing something right.

“God, s’so good.” You exhaled lazily, your eyes closing as he used his knee to kick your thighs apart for his waist. He quickly ground against you, a stifled groan stuck in his throat at the feeling of friction.

“Take ‘em off.” He demanded, tugging impatiently at your shorts before he went to unbuckle his belt. You happily obliged, unbuttoning your shorts and dragging them down your thighs.

When Daryl saw your lacy red panties he shivered. At camp, most of the underwear he saw hanging up were more… practical? The women had quickly changed their lace panties and thongs for boy shorts, but here you were, the skin around your hips indented obscenely from the way they hugged you like magic.

“Fuck.” He exhaled deeply, his forehead resting against yours as he looked down at your body under his. He was really, really glad Merle gave him coke. Just the sight of you mostly naked under him had his cock throbbing painfully.

He finished with his pants, only pulling them down enough to drag his leaking dick out, his jaw dropping when he saw you shimmying out of your panties. His head spun, his mouth watered, and before he could even think he was scooting down to plant his face between your legs.

You gasped, your head falling back against the rough flooring of the roof. He was so eager., so heartbreakingly eager to please you, it had your pussy so wet it was almost unbearable. His hot tongue was sloppy, inaccurate, it couldn't decide where it wanted to be. He'd be licking broad stripes one second, and the next he was swirling it around your clit. You were beginning to think maybe he wasn't as inexperienced as you believed.

Daryl learned all he knew about sex from porn. If there was one thing he was fascinated about, it was giving head. One of the first things he always wanted to do was eat out a woman. He never thought it would be someone as hot as you.

He tried everything he knew that made the women in videos moan, and to his surprise, you moaned the most when he kept it simple and just sucked your clit. So he did that, hollowing out his cheeks and sucking it into his mouth to roll his tongue around.

You were in shambles. You tried desperately to pull at his hair, but it was too short to grab so you settled on sinking your nails into his scalp as you rolled your hips against his face and tried not to be so loud.

Your jaw dropped and your eyes squeezed shut when he dug his tongue into the side of your clit, dragging your orgasm out so unexpectedly that you gasped.

“Fuck, oh, oh god!” You sputtered, your thighs squeezing his head to hold him there as you came, your back arching and your toes curling so hard your foot almost cramped up.

Daryl slipped his hand under him and grabbed his cock, stroking it as he felt your body tremble and jerk under him. He was sure this was a dream, he'd wake up any second in his tent with Merle snoring beside him and you all the way across camp. He squeezed his dick, milking the precum from his tip as your thighs finally relaxed.

“My god. You're really good at that.” You panted, your eyes blurry as you watched him slide up your body and take its place on top of you.

He grinned, knowing you were unintentionally starting to give him an ego. “Yeah?” He racked his brain for dirty talk, but since it was fried from making you cum, all he could come up with was “I got somethin’ I'm even better at.” Complete lie.

You, on the other hand, had no idea he was a virgin, and grinned widely at the implications, shifting your body up till you felt his heavy cock graze against your inner thigh. The feeling alone sent a bolt through your body, and your chest heaved with deep excited breaths.

He leaned up and grabbed your shoulder, signaling for you to turn over. You didn't question it and rolled over, propping yourself on your hands and knees.

The sight of you from behind had him falling apart. He let out a quiet whimper and bit his bottom lip before grabbing his cock and scooting forward to push it against you.

“Jesus, so fuckin wet.” He breathed, his heart beating so loud he could hear the blood in his ears. He slid his dick between your folds, going through all the steps in his head that he'd seen countless times. He even slapped it against your pussy a few times, missing the amused expression on your face, and pushed himself into you.

What Daryl didn't learn from porn was that usually, you go in slow when someone hasn't had sex recently. So when he just pushed his dick inside you with no hesitation you cried out, the burn from the unprepared stretching making you jolt forward. He grabbed your hips to bring you back against him, his jaw going slack as he felt your hot wet walls squeezing the life out of him.

“Fuck!” You spat, the burning and stabbing pain almost enough to turn you off completely. “You gotta be slower than that, Daryl.”

He was too deep to process what you said. He finally let out the breath he'd been holding with a deep, guttural groan, still frozen inside you. “Sah-Sorry.” He sputtered, his hands squeezing your hips so hard you knew for a fact there'd be ten little light purple bruises there tomorrow.

Before you could say or do anything else he started moving, setting the pace quickly, snapping his hips against your ass so roughly your hands almost slipped out from under you. The uncomfortable stretch quickly faded into a deep, primal pleasure, and soon you were letting out short moans with every thrust of his hips.

You barely got used to the feeling before he grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked it back, drawing a cry from your throat. You weren't expecting this from Daryl, he was so confident, so rough, it confused you but drove you absolutely wild at the same time.

His other hand kept its tight grip on your hip, pulling you back to meet each of his demanding thrusts, making sure his dick went as deep as possible each time. The way you were moaning and gasping fueled him to fuck you rougher, wanting to hear every sound that you were possible of making.

“Dirty little whore.” He grunted, his jaw aching from how hard he'd been clenching his teeth.

His words earned a strangled whimper from you, making his lips curl up in a cocky grin.

He fucked you for a while like that, hips pounding against your ass so hard that the noises of your skin slapping was making your cheeks burn in embarrassed arousal. So much for keeping it quiet.

“Hey-” The words were hard to get out from his aggressive thrusts, especially now that he was hunched over your body so he could squeeze your breasts. “I- wanna turn over.”

He raised his chest from your back and took the opportunity to catch his breath while you shifted under him to roll over on your back. The look on your face made him shudder with a quiet gasp. Your face was tinted a light red, blissed out, your pupils blown and hair all messed up around your face. He was back on you immediately, kissing you hungrily as he slipped his cock back inside you, much easier this time.

“Y’feel so fuckin’ good.” He breathed against your lips, wet from his sloppy kisses, and he kissed down your jaw to your neck. His accent was much thicker when he was inside you, barely pronouncing any words fully anymore.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, and your legs around his waist, angling your hips up so he could drive his cock deeper into you. The new feeling made him moan pathetically into your neck, and he had to stifle the noises he didn't like with a bite to the skin where your neck met shoulder.

The pressure of his teeth had your eyes rolling back in your head. There was so much stimulation, his dick driving relentlessly into your throbbing pussy, his fingers pinching your nipple and the other hand in your hair, pulling your head to the side to give him better access to your neck. A particularly deep thrust made you cry out, and you felt yourself nearing your second orgasm.

“Fuck!” You whined, your eyes squeezing tightly shut as you felt the tension building in your core as he fucked his dick into you.

“That's it, y’gonna come for me?” His teeth drew away from your red neck, a string of spit connecting the two of you.

All you could muster was an obscene “Mhmm!”, your thighs squeezing him tight around the waist.

“C'mon girl.” His words were choppy from the force of his thrusts. He slowed for a second, readjusting himself before building back up to his former quick pace, each thrust sending your body scooting a little upwards along the floor of the roof. You were incredibly thankful it wasn't concrete.

“Lemme hear it, c'mon.” His words alone were enough to send you falling over your edge. Your jaw dropped, your head tilting back as your back arched under his heavy body, and his arm slipped under you to hold your chest tight against his.

The look on your face and the feeling of you cumming around his dick was all he needed. His face went slack and he let out a shameful whine, something he'd never heard himself make before, and came inside you. Neither of you noticed, too fucked out of your minds to even process it.

You cried under him, twisting and squirming, impaled on his dick as your orgasm shook you to your core. Only when the final waves rolled off you did you relax, your eyes struggling to open as your breathing slowed.

Daryl raised his face from your chest and looked down at you, enjoying the look on your face as he regained his bearings. He ran his hands up and down your torso a few times, his eyes appreciating every little red mark on your neck and chest from his teeth.

Only when the last jolts of pleasure left his body did he realize he came inside you.

“Shit.” He grunted as he slowly drug his dick out of you, his breath catching in his throat when he saw the way his cum oozed out between your slick, puffy folds.

“Hmm, ‘s fine.” You mumbled lazily, reaching up to push your hair from your face. “We're on top of a Dollar General. We'll get the morning after pill.”

He nodded at your words, still hypnotized by the sight of his cum leaking out of you. A deep part of him wanted to stuff his dick back in you and keep it in, he didn't know why, but the idea was so hot he could've gone for a round two if you wanted.

“We better get back.” You struggled to prop yourself up on your elbows, your weakened muscles protesting. The sun was well below the trees now, and if you got back when it was dark you knew Shane would throw a goddamn hissy fit.

“We ain't gotta.” He half joked, a lazy grin on his face. “Can just stay here. Go back in the mornin’.”

You smiled, shaking your head, even though the idea was incredibly tempting. “Shane will kill us.”

“Fuck him.”

“I don't wanna piss him off when he's the one in possession of my gun right now.” Your words had him raising his brows and nodding in agreement.

The two of you put your clothes back on and went through the back entrance, grabbing all your bags and making sure to pick up some morning after pills from the locked shelf behind the front desk. You caught him trying to discreetly grab some condoms, not knowing you saw, and you felt excitement bubble in your chest at the prospect of him expecting this to happen again.

Thankfully Shane wasn't in camp when you snuck back in. He was down by the quarry, catching frogs or some shit, and you were able to share your spoils with the group before he came to ask questions.

“Well, shit. Look at you.” Merle was smiling ear to ear, clapping Daryl on the back after he went to his brother's tent with a bag of goodies.

It was extremely obvious what the two of you had done. Your hair was still messy despite you brushing it with your fingers on the way back, your face pink, your neck red. You were climbing into your own tent as Merle watched you from across camp.

Daryl's neck and face were also red, and he had a few scratch marks on the back of his neck.

And his fly was still down.

“Shut up.” Daryl shrugged his brother's hand off him, opening a bag of Funyuns.

“My baby brothers no longer a fuckin’ loser!” He laughed, giving a wolf whistle before playfully ruffling his hair. “Atta boy. I told you.”

“Ya’ ain't tell me shit.” Daryl grumbled, stuffing Funyuns in his mouth to hide the smile that was creeping onto his face.

“Hey.”

“What?” Daryl groaned, exasperated already.

“Think she’ll give me a ride?”

“Shut the hell up, man.”

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inthe-dark-tonight · 3 months

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three days too long

rick grimes x fem!reader

summery: you wake up to a surprise after rick comes back from a three day long supply run

word count: 1.8k

warnings: prison era, secret relationship, reader is down bad for rick (just like me), p in v sex, light biting??? idk

notes: well……. i’ve been rewatching the walking dead so naturally my rick era has resurfaced and i’m not sorry. expect more to come. thank you to my love @joelsversion for reading this over for me ILYSM!!! <3

You’re not sure when he got back or how long you had been asleep before he quietly snuck past the white sheets covering the door to your cell.

Rick had been gone on a supply run for three days, not knowing it would take that long when he left alongside Daryl and Glenn. You spent those three days doing anything to keep your mind off him and where he was at. Taking watch in the tower with Maggie one morning, watching after Judith a few hours each day, tending to the gardens. None of it helped to keep your thoughts from drifting towards Rick.

You start to stir when you feel warmth pressed against your back, a large arm snaking under you to wrap around your waist, the other across your chest as you lay on your stomach. Warm breath fans over your neck, tickling you as a humming sound sends a vibration through you. At that moment you know it’s him. He’s finally back.

“Rick?” Your sleepy voice comes out barely a whisper as your eyes begin to flutter open.

The moonlight seeping in through the barred windows of the prison, filtering through the white sheets you keep up for a bit of privacy, creates enough light for you to make out his figure.

“Shhhh,” His deep voice sends a shiver down your back. “Missed you baby,” he whispers, lips lightly brushing over your ear before planting a kiss on your cheek.

You hum softly, nuzzling into your pillow and shifting to make yourself more comfortable. Your hips lift up from the bed, unintentionally pressing into Rick’s as he pulls you closer to him. He lets out a low groan before you lie still again, and you can feel his bulge starting to grow in his jeans.

“I missed you too.” You finally answer, turning your head over your shoulder to get a good look at him.

He must've washed up before coming to see you, you think to yourself. His face was clean for just coming back from a run, not a single smudge of dirt on his cheeks, his hair slightly damp where it curls around his neck and ears.

“Three days too long for you, hm?” He smiles and a deep chuckle escapes him before kissing your cheek once more.

You take in a deep breath, eyes falling shut. “Way too long.” You hum.

He continues kissing you, lips moving slowly down to your jaw, trailing down the side of your neck. The feeling of his beard against your soft skin tickles you, causing you to shrug your shoulders. A soft giggle leaves your lips as you try to wiggle away from him, causing him to hold you tighter.

“Mm mm, stay still.” He plants one last kiss on your shoulder before letting you go and shifting positions.

One arm holds him up, hovering above you, as the other reaches down for his belt buckle. The sound of his buckle coming undone sends heat straight to your core, and a second later you hear the sound of his zipper. You look down over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of him, a large hand wrapped around his fully erect cock as he pumps his fist a few times. When your eyes drift up to his, he’s already staring down at you, mouth parted and a hungry look on his face. You have to bite down, hard, on your bottom lip to suppress your moan.

This thing between you two hasn’t been going on for long, maybe a couple months at most. Ever since you first laid eyes on Rick, when he showed up at the camp in his sheriff's uniform over a year ago, you’ve been harboring a small crush. Even after finding out that same day that he was Lori’s supposedly dead husband, you couldn’t help yourself. And here you are now, trying to keep quiet, keep this thing a secret from the others. For now.

“Gonna stay quiet for me?” His head tilts to the side, eyes still locked on yours.

As soon as you nod your head, a silent promise, his hand releases his cock and finds its way to your shorts. He pulls them down along with your underwear, and the cool air hitting your already soaked cunt causes your hips to lift off the bed.

He leans back down, pressing his body against yours once again, his cock slipping between your legs and finding a spot between your wet folds as he positions himself. Both of his hands move to cover yours where they lay next to your head, intertwining his fingers with yours before slowly moving his hips back and forth, cock sliding effortlessly between your folds.

His lips are back at your ear as he slowly rocks back and forth, covering his length with your juices. “Three days was too long for me, too.”

Your stomach flutters at his words, walls clenching in anticipation. Rick rocks his hips, once, twice more through your folds before pulling all the way back, tip catching at your entrance.

“Rick,” you sigh. “Need you.”

“I know, baby.” He nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, breathing you in before slowly thrusting fully into you.

Your eyes squeeze shut as you bite your cheek, trying to hold back any noises. Once you're full he stills for a moment, letting you get used to the feeling of his thick cock stretching you before he moves again. As he slowly pulls out, you can hear how wet you are.

“Shit.” Rick mumbles into your hair, moving one of his hands to grip at your waist.

Gently, he tilts your hips up, holding them there as he thrust back in. A soft moan escapes you, and you quickly stop yourself, biting at your lower lip harder than before. Rick doesn't say anything, instead he starts to quicken his pace, letting out soft groans as he fucks into you.

You reach your free hand back and bury your fingers in the dark curls at the back of his head, tugging at them lightly. He lets out a low grunt, muffled by your hair where his face is buried in your neck.

Rick lifts his head up, staring down at you with a slack jaw as he continues his deep thrusts. Although it’s quite dark in your cell, you can make out the beads of sweat starting to form around his temples, causing a few stray hairs to stick to his forehead. The moonlight creates a white glow around him, he’s pretty. You’ve thought that from the start, but especially like this. Panting above you as he thrusts his cock deep inside you, stifling the moans that threaten to escape his pink lips.

He leans down, tilting his head so his lips are less than an inch away from yours. You tilt your head up, brushing your nose against his as his eyes fall shut and he leans in to press his lips to yours. Immediately his tongue is asking for entrance, pushing past your lips and intertwining with your own. He hums, his chest vibrating against you as your lips move in sync.

The knot in your stomach starts to tighten as he hits all the right spots inside you, his thrusts never faltering. He holds your hips at the perfect angle, hitting you at just the right spot with each thrust. You pull your lips away from his for a moment, catching your breath as his forehead presses against yours.

“‘M close.” You say between breaths.

“Let me feel you.” His blue eyes look back into yours, desire swimming within them.

His hand leaves your hip, hooking his fingers under your jaw as his thumb rests on your lower lip, pulling it down ever so slightly before kissing you. His other hand lets go of yours where he’s holding it against the mattress, lightly brushing over the back of your neck to move your hair out of the way. Both of his rough hands rest on your shoulders as he places kisses on the back of your neck.

The sensation of his lips against your damp skin sends heat straight to your core, causing you to clench around his length as you fight the urge to cry out. You tug at his hair, harder this time, trying to pull him closer if it’s even possible. He lets out a low whine, sinking his teeth lightly into the skin at your shoulder, leaving an open mouthed kiss over the small mark left there as he plunges into you one last time. Your body stiffens, eyes squeezing shut as a white hot feeling shoots through you, the coil in your core finally coming undone.

“Ri-“ before you can finish crying out his name, his hand quickly covers your mouth.

You whimper as he presses his hand lightly against your mouth, your own hand quickly moving to grip his forearm as your walls flutter around him, drenching his cock. Your eyes squeeze shut as he continues to rock his hips back and forth, holding you tightly against himself as your orgasm washes over you. A deep muffled sigh leaves you as your body starts to relax, and you feel his thrusts start to slow down before he quickly pulls out, lifting himself off of you and aiming at the edge of the cot.

Through heavy lids you watch him, trying to catch your breath as you roll onto your side. He’s sat on the edge of the bed now, buttoning his pants as your eyes trace over his silhouette. When he looks back down at you, a small smirk grows on his face. He pushes his damp hair out of his face with his large hand and shakes his head back and forth before leaning down, only inches from your face.

“You better hope they didn’t hear you.” He says in a sarcastic tone, hand resting on your cheek as he kisses your lips softly.

A smile forms on your lips as he pulls away, then he stands up to fix his pants. As he slowly heads towards the doorway, he fastens his buckle. You quickly shoot up, sitting up right in your bed now.

“Wait!” You whisper.

He quickly turns towards you, a concerned look on his face as he looks over your form.

“Stay.” It’s not a question, and he knows that.

He nods his head, pausing for a moment before walking back towards the single cot. You turn towards the wall as he climbs in behind you, the springs beneath the mattress pad squeaking as he does so. When his arm wraps around you, you scoot closer so his warm chest is pressed against your back. He nuzzles into the back of your neck, burying his nose into your hair as you let out a content sigh, eyes falling shut as you slowly drift off to sleep.

“Missed you so much.” He whispers, barely loud enough to hear before you both fall asleep.

thank you for reading <3 this is also posted on my ao3 - pale_m00nlight

also if anyone would like to follow my twd sideblog where i only reblog and talk about the walking dead and my love for rick grimes…. feel free to follow me @scary-divine :))) 🤍

#prison era rick grimes i love you sm #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes smut #rick grimes fic #rick grimes fanfiction #rick grimes twd #rick grimes

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songofsunset · 2 years

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when next I have a spare minute I need to dig up my papyrus and make moon knight fanart

#why did I read that book now my brain is in full MOON KNIGHT mode lmao #and yet STILL SOMEHOW on an avatar kick #these are NOT compatible genres lmao I cannot possibly cross these over #wait fuck the main character is named jake and was in the marines and had a twin brother die wait actually i could do something with this #I DO NOT WANT TO BUT LIKE #THE POTENTIAL IS THERE #khonshu vs ewya fight fight fight (im betting on ewya but on the OTHER hand pandora is literally a moon so khonshu might have jurisdiction)#someone please send help I do NOT need to write this crossover (but oh no literally no one else would lmao)#lori chat #i almost need an intervention but also I want to read whatever unhinged fic this would be

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liliesdiary · 10 months

Text

"Not So Tough Now, Darlin?"

"Not So Tough Now, Darlin?" Shane Walsh x You

Warning: dubcon, Shane drunk fucking you, inspired by that one moment at the CDC except it's mostly consensual, brutal fuck, hair pulling, darling/darlin, fem!reader

Words: 650

Special mentions: @versatilehater @sinsandsweetness @dustbunniess

Daydreaming about Shane Walsh drunk-hate fucking you.

You and Shane never got along, he was always stubborn and a hot head, you saw his obsession with Lori and even called him out on several occasions. You and Shane have always butted heads, yelling at each other but neither of y'all could deny the sexual tension between you two. You always caught Shane staring at your ass in those short dresses and skirts you loved to wear. This time he wasn't letting it slide.

He continued his assault on your hole, tightening his grip on your bruised waist as you were bent over the counter. He was a drunken angry mess and abused your body as you trembled beneath him. Precum was slipping from his cock as he thrusted into you, making you a wet mess.

You moaned and whimpered, “Fuck, please slow down!”, you tried to protest but he covered your mouth and whispered in you ear, “You’re going to fucking take it like a good girl, you’ve been nothing but a brat to me, flaunting your ass with those tiny ass skirts you wear. You didn't think I’d snap one of these days and just bend over your ass and fuck you stupid, darlin?”

Your eyes widen and was filled with tears, your legs were shaking as he thrusted that big veiny cock of his, and fuck it was huge. You winced everytime he thrusted into your aching hole, moving your soaked panties to the side as you were still wearing them. You tried to protest again but his rageful drunken thrusts made you stumble and you couldn’t take it anymore. You fell to your knees and tried to crawl away but he grabbed you by your braids harshly and made you face him, his eyes were glossy and red, “Where are you goin, sweetheart? You ain't running away from me.” He then picked you up over his shoulders and sat down on a chair nearby.

He then bent you over on his chair and pressed his bulge against that tiny skirt of yours. You felt his bulge against his jeans, making you even more wet.

“Fuck,” He groans as he rips your soaked panties off, “You're so fucking wet sweetheart..”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but feel a mix of fear and arousal coursing through your veins. You were at his mercy, completely vulnerable and exposed in this moment.

Shane's hands shook as he pulled your skirt up, revealing your bare ass to him. He gripped your hips tightly, positioning himself between your legs. His eyes locked onto yours, filled with a raw intensity that made your heart race even faster.

"You think I don't know how much you want this?" he growled, his voice low and gravelly. "How much you crave my cock inside you? You can deny it all you want darling, but I see the way you look at me. The way you flaunt yourself around, knowing exactly what effect it has on me."

You bit your lip, unable to meet his gaze as shame and desire battled within you. You knew Shane was right - there had always been an undeniable attraction between you two, despite your frequent clashes. And now, here you were, about to be taken by force by the very man you couldn't help but fantasize about.

Shane's thrusts became more violent as he pulled your braids, his hips slamming against yours in a brutal rhythm that left you gasping for air. His rough hands dug into your soft flesh, leaving bruises and marks on your arms and shoulders. You struggled to maintain balance as he continued to pound into you, his cock stretching you wider than ever before. He drunkenly fucked your pussy, groaning and getting rougher with you by the second as you stumble and tremble beneath him, "Always acting so tough huh? Not so tough now darlin, ain't that right?”

#shane walsh fanfiction #shane twd #shane the walking dead #twd shane #the walking dead shane #shane walsh imagine #shane walsh twd #shane walsh #shane walsh headcannons #shane walsh smut #jon bernthal x reader #jon bernthal x you #jon bernthal #jon bernthal smut #im so wet #જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 𝓛𝓲𝓵𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝓓𝓲𝓪𝓻𝔂 #𐙚 𝓛𝓲𝓵𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝓓𝓪𝔂𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶𝓼 𐙚

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renren-006 · 5 months

Text

Over The Years- Daryl x Fem Reader

plot: being in love with daryl through the years but he’s clueless

word count: 2639

a/n: hey! i love that you guys have been eating up my Daryl Fics soooo heres another one. this took me sooo long to write so oi hope you enjoy!!

This has been posted on AO3- Over The Years

taglist: @rosecentury

Atlanta - 1:

"you've been staring at him all day, y/n," Lori said, coming to your side. You were standing by the van, 'helping Dale,' watching Daryl do whatever he was doing in his little area. You offered to help, but the man shooed you off.

"I'm not," you told her; she gave you the mom look she gave Carl, making you cave. "okay, so what if I am?"

"Just be careful, hunny," she told you, "he's not the type to realize his or your feelings."

"I know," you told Lori. This wasn't the first of these conversations, but it was the last time someone told you to be careful.

Atlanta - 2:

"If yer trying to fish here, yer in the wrong spot," Daryl said as he came up behind you on a rock, trying to catch fish or just waste the day away.

"I figured," you told him, hitting the empty bucket you had. "I'm just…"

"Tryna' not to be bored?" He asked you. You nodded.

"You want to know how ta' catch fish?" he asked; you smiled and nodded, reeling the cast in and handing him the pol, following him to a different spot and spending the rest of the afternoon taking tips from him on fishing. If someone asked you what you learned, you could only tell them that Daryl's eyes looked almost green in the sunlight.

Farm - 1:

you saw him take his stuff and walk off; he hiked over weeds to his area a yelling distance away. Carol watched you watch the man walking away from the group's solidarity.

"he's stubborn," she commented; you nodded. You faced her, to see she was already watching you. "he's stubborn with his feelings too."

"I know. I know both those things," you told Carol; she nodded. She walked off after patting your back, knowing you knew the unsaid things in the air. You continued working around the group, keeping watch, cooking dinner, and helping with the Greene family. Maggie became a close friend of yours through the days on the farm.

Farm - 2:

"Hey," you said as you stood in the doorway. Daryl glanced up from bed, his shirt half on over his bandages.

"Hey," he said, not responding more to you entering his room.

"Just wanted to check on you."

"Dont need ya to," Daryl said, trying to hide from you more and more. You stood in the doorway still, knowing entering wouldn't go well.

"I didn't ask if you did," you told him. "I'm in the kitchen; shout if you want anything."

Part of you wanted to give more care to him, show him you cared, but you knew him well enough to know he didn't need that from you. He nodded his head at you, and you closed the door again. Then, he walked down back to the kitchen to help Maggie with lunch.

Farm - 3:

"Ya need help," Daryl asked. You were trying to get a sheet of wood up on the window to nail it shit, but you only had two hands. He came up and grabbed the wood from you, holding it up for you

"Thank you," you told him, and he grunted back at you. You finished up nailing in the panels with his help.

"You need any help?"

"Nah, I got it," he said, leaving after helping you. Things were still the same between the two of you, you thought. Daryl, however, couldn't see how he was growing to care for you.

On the road:

You never planned on getting hurt, but it just happened. You, Daryl, Glenn, and Maggie were off in a group scouting a building you had seen. Rick had made the five of you go to keep an eye on each other and get as much stuff as possible. You walked in first, knife in hand, Glenn close behind with a flashlight. Maggie and Daryl took the rear, much to Daryl's dismay.

Once you were all inside the building, you realized this used to be a Military compound, a small one, but it still had some things left inside. There was an airfield outside, probably a small compound not used for much. Once you split off from everyone, you wandered around the shelving units, finding some rations. When you didn't see the ceiling being held up by one of the shelving units and when you accidentally bumped into it, part of the roof came falling down. You yelled as part of it fell on top of you, crushing your ankle. Daryl was the first person over to you, rushing to see what was wrong.

"The roof! I didn't see," you said, grinding your teeth. Daryl stood there, eyes wide at seeing you on the floor with half the ceiling on your leg. "Daryl!" you practically yelled at him. The shock of you yelling shocked him out of his daze, and he rushed to lift the wood off your leg. Glen and Maggie rushed over soon after seeing the aftermath of the roof collapse and Daryl lifting it off you.

"What happened?" Maggie asked as she picked me up. I hobbled a bit, yelping when I put my left leg down. "Shit"

"The roof...I didn't see that it was falling, and the shelves were holding it up," you said, "I think I fucked up my ankle."

"How could ya not look?" Darly said angrily, "Now ya hurt and.."

"Hey, it's fine, Daryl. She didn't know. This could have happened to any of us," Glenn defended. "Let's look for crutches; they have to have some here. After you look around, you find some crammed in the back of a closet and leave the building. Daryl hung back with you while you were trying to walk.

"I shouldenta' yelled," Daryl said, breaking your silence. You nodded, knowing he was only trying to look after you.

"It's okay."

"Nah, it's not," he told you, stopping you from walking any further "Sorry"

"It's okay, Daryl, really. I was stupid anyway."

"Nah, coulda' happened to anyone," he said. During the rest of the walk, you had a small smile, and Daryl had a hand on your back guiding you. He didn't want you to fall again, let alone on his watch.

Prison:

The prison setting took everyone a while to settle into it; Daryl, however, took to it really fast, moving into one of the guard towers. You desperately wanted to be near him again, not only because you knew how you felt but also because he was the only person you felt truly safe around. You watched him go back to that guard station every night after dinner just outside the cell block. You turned back into your bunk at the end of the hall, far from everyone and enough privacy that you felt calm. Carol already knew about your affection for the archer and tried many times to get the two of you to sit next to each other. You moved, always, leaving the spot open for Glenn to take and talk Daryl's ear off about whatever he had found on a run that day. You took your spot next to Maggie, who silently let you watch the archer with no complaints.

That was months ago.

"Why don't you join us on the run tomorrow?" Maggie asked you, "We need to find stuff for Judith."

"Yes, I'll come."

"No, ya won't," Daryl said, walking up behind the two of you outside.

"Daryl, I'm fine. I'm going."

"Then I'm coming'" He said, glaring daggers at the two of you and going to get his bike ready.

"Ass," you muttered to him as he walked away; he didn't seem to hear you.

"He cares," Maggie said as you grabbed the bags by the upper gate. You signed, you knew that but for some reason, he had distanced himself, or maybe you had

"Whatever," you said and made your way down the path. The pickup truck was made for two, and Daryl knew that.

"Hop on," he said, riding up to you. You looked at him, and it seemed like he knew you wanted him there. You climbed on behind him and headed out with the others. The ride was quiet, but it spoke enough about the two of you that no words needed to be spoken.

Daryl and you scouted a house; all was quiet between you two. You found an unopened can of peanut butter and showed it to him, he smiled over at you.

"Who knew we'd find it," he told you, taking it from your hands.

"Guess you're my good luck charm," you told him, grabbing the can back and putting it in your bag. When you glanced back, he was looking at you. "Daryl?"

"Nah, it's nothin'," he said, snapping out of his daze. "I'm looking upstairs," he said, moving away from you and up to the tip floor. You continued rummaging through the downstairs before heading out to the porch and waiting for Daryl.

Prison:

Daryl didn't get jealous. You had never seen him that way. It was early in the morning, everyone was outside, and you were helping Carol with the food prep. One of the guys from the town you saved had a very obvious thing for you. He was younger than you, but it didn't bother him. He made a move that morning in Daryl's direct eyesight. He had come over, taking your ear off, and then he got close, trying to grab or touch you. You had stepped away, trying to tell him that you didn't see him like that and that he needed to give you space. He didn't listen. Daryl barged over and tugged the guy back from you.

"Didn't ya hear? She said to back off," Daryl said, putting himself between him and you.

"Oh, shit! Hi Daryl!" the guy said, unaware that Daryl could rip this guy to shreds. You put your hand on his bicep, feeling it flex under your touch.

"I'm fine," you told him calmly. He looked back at you, seeing that you were relieved he stopped in but worried he would rip the guy to shreds.

"Good," he said, pushing the guy back, "don't ya go near her again," the guy nodded, running off, getting the message.

On the run:

You were with Daryl and Beth, wandering around the unfamiliar world. It was a miracle that you found Beth during the invasion and even more so that Daryl made a B-line for you. When the three of you started on your journey, it was slow. Daryl watched for the two of you Until Beth was taken in the night.

"Beth!" you yelled, "Beth!"

"C'mon," Daryl said, tugging you back from the road and away from the walker's grouping. "Well, find her."

You walked after that car for miles until your feet couldn't take it, and you collapsed. Daryl wanted to drop beside you, but he couldn't.

That was when the real test of being back out in the world came. These men that Daryl didn't want to join but did anyway made your skin crawl. The way they looked at you, the way they wanted you, it made you sick. Daryl quickly understood the rules, realizing I got no say in anything in this group and was merely seen as an item for the taking.

"She's mine," He said, causing the boys upfront to look back at the two of you. You were behind Daryl, per his request. "Aint no one touching her."

"Boss! He can't do that," one yelled.

"Rules are rules," the boss said, "She's his."

Still didn't stop looking or not sleeping. Daryl noticed it; of course, he did.

There was one man both of you knew who didn't care about the rules. One night in particular proved this to Daryl and the rest of the men. He had left you no longer than a few minutes in a different direction than you out in the woods when the man sprung on you. You tried to grab your knife, but he was already prepared to stop you. You were helpless as he tried to get his way with you.

"Don't scream now," he said, with his hand over your mouth, suppressing any screams you tried to get out. You started hitting him, making him yell back in pain from it. "Crazy bitch” he said, slapping you.

"Daryl!" you yelled, scrambling to get up. The man behind you grabbed your leg, making you fall to the ground. "Daryl!" you screamed again, knowing that was your last attempt at calling for the archer. Your breath was completely knocked out of you. You heard fast-moving, crunching footsteps as the man tried to turn you over, and then, nothing. You turned, seeing an arrow between his eyes and the man falling back. You scrambled away, trying to catch your breath as Daryl jumped to hold you.

"I'm sorry," he said into your hair as you held onto him, too shoved to say a word. The world became quiet in his arms.

On the run:

The road to salvation was long. The group had been walking for days; hope was dwindling. You lagged, not having much energy for things anymore. Daryl is always stuck by your side, never leaving the comfort of your space. He had been quiet for a while, keeping his thoughts locked away. You stopped walking, alerting Daryl but not the others.

"Hey?" he asked, looking back at you and watching him.

"somethings wrong with you, and you won't tell me," you told him, matter a fact. "I know there is."

'aint nothin'"

"Nothing? Really? You haven't left my side since the…¦," you said, drifting off, not wanting to mention the near attack you had. "Since you know when I feel like I can't breathe without you worrying."

"I.."

"What is wrong?" you pressed; Maggie had seen that you had stopped and told the others to slow the pace a bit. You knew she probably understood that what was happening with the two of you needed to be talked about away from the group, so she kept them moving slowly. "I can't stand to see ya hurt anymore," he told me, knowing somethin' was on his mind. "I can't stand thinkin' somethin' happen if i leave ya"

"Daryl, that's not your responsibility," you said.

"maybe it should be," Daryl said.

"What?"

"I care about you a lot" he said, looking down, "I love ya"

The world stopped when he said those words, something he had never even said to Carol or Rick, ever or often. You took his hands in yours, making him look at you.

"I have loved you since we were on that mountain in Atlanta," you told him, "I have always loved you."

"ya have?"

"How could I not, Daryl?" you said; he smiled a bit, something you had not seen in a very long time.

"You my woman now," he told you, "you've been mine since I told those men you were."

"I'll always be yours; you never have to worry about that."

Extra:

Alexandria: (years later)

"How long have I been an idiot?" Daryl asked Carol. They were both lounging on the porch in Alexandria, watching you chase after a little brown-haired girl. She was only two, but she had spirit. You were smiling so big that Daryl felt like his heart was melting.

"You've been an idiot for as long as she's been in love with you

ain't helping" Daryl said, shoving Carol a bit.

"I think you started falling for her when we were in Prison"

"yea…your right"

"You were stubborn to let yourself feel until you almost lost her," Carol said. Daryl nodded, not wanting to admit that it took a life-or-death situation for him to truly know he couldn't ever lose you.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixion #daryl x reader #daryl dixion imagine #the walking dead imagine #fanfic #daryl dixon #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl twd #daryl dixon x female reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon twd #twd fanfiction

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deliciousangelfestival · 1 month

Text

Another Ending - 2 | Bucky Barnes

Character: ex!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: It was supposed to be a short week watching over your niece, who loves romance books. She thought you were just a normal aunt, but it turns out you have secrets.

Tags: Spies, action, threat, offense, fight scene, violence, romance, comedy.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 ,-

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Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

The car ride was tense, with only the sound of tires humming against the asphalt breaking the silence. You stared out the window, watching the trees blur by, trying to suppress the anxiety gnawing at you.

“We need to get to the train station,” you suggested, breaking the silence.

Bucky’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Too risky. We have to stay low for a while.”

You nodded, your mind racing through the possibilities. If a motel or hotel was too dangerous, where could you go? “We should camp. I have the gear in the car.”

Bucky glanced at you, a small nod of approval. “Good.”

The awkward silence returned, thick and suffocating, until a small voice broke through.

“This is destiny,” Lori murmured, her face lighting up as she reached into her bag to pull out a notebook. She began scribbling furiously.

You and Bucky exchanged a confused look. “What’s got you writing all of a sudden?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“New ideas for my fanfiction,” Lori said, her tone excited.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Lori…”

Bucky kept driving, his eyes scanning the road ahead until he found a secluded area surrounded by trees. He maneuvered the car off the road, hiding it as best he could among the foliage.

“Who is she, really?” Bucky asked, his tone serious.

“My niece,” you replied, your voice low.

Lori, sensing the conversation was about her, raised her hand like she was in class. “Oh, I have a confession to make. I’m the one who replied to your email.”

Bucky’s eyes widened as he turned to you, his expression a mix of disbelief and something else. “Can’t say I’m not a little disappointed. But thanks to her, I finally know your real name.”

Lori, completely missing the tension in the air, beamed. “You didn’t even know each other’s names, but you kept looking for her? That’s so romantic.”

Bucky shot you a look, his expression unreadable, but the way his gaze lingered made you uncomfortable. Was she really your niece? He couldn’t help but wonder.

You shook your head, grabbing your bag and pulling out a burner phone. You needed to call your sister and let her know you were taking Lori with you, that things had gotten… complicated.

Lori, oblivious to the serious undertone of the situation, watched you and Bucky closely, analyzing every glance and gesture. Through her writer’s lens, she saw the tension between you two as something else entirely. She grinned, her mind already spinning a new story of enemies-turned-lovers.

“Uh, I have a question,” Lori piped up. “After I replied, did you immediately read it?”

Bucky didn’t answer, his silence louder than any words could be. Lori took it as confirmation. “So, before you replied, you rushed to find my cool aunt, and when you got closer, you finally sent it. That’s such dedication to chasing love.” She squealed, hugging her notebook to her chest like a love-struck fangirl.

🥀🥀🥀🥀

Both of you walked in silence, the tension between you growing thicker with every step. You stayed close to the car, unwilling to stray too far, as if the vehicle was the only thing grounding you in this increasingly chaotic world.

“We can’t be together,” you finally said, your voice heavy with regret.

“But—” Bucky began, but you cut him off.

Without a word, you reached up and tugged down your collar, revealing a line of jagged scars etched into the skin of your neck. You usually kept them hidden under layers of makeup, but today, there was no time for that. The collar had been your only shield.

“These… they still haunt me,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky’s eyes softened, and without hesitation, he pulled up his shirt to reveal the scars marring his shoulder. The sight of them made your heart twist with guilt.

“It’s not just you,” he said, his voice low and filled with a shared pain. He stepped closer, the distance between you shrinking as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “We were both in the wrong.”

In the world of espionage, trust was a luxury neither of you could afford. You had been a double agent, living in the gray area between loyalty and betrayal. Bucky, a triple agent, had danced even closer to the edge. The scars you both bore were reminders of the countless times trust had been shattered.

The real reason you were being hunted wasn’t just because you were a skilled operative; it was because you had broken a vow. You had promised never to contact Bucky again, a promise made under the threat of being burned by your agency. But you had broken that promise, and now, you were paying the price.

“Bucky…” you whispered, your voice filled with an ache you couldn’t suppress. But your words died in your throat as you caught sight of movement behind a tree.

Lori. Your creative, ever-curious niece was hiding, scribbling furiously in her notebook as if she was documenting your every word.

“So, both of them feel guilty. It haunts them,” Lori muttered to herself, her eyes wide with fascination as she jotted down her thoughts.

You sighed deeply, the weight of everything crashing down on you. You marched over to Lori, grabbing her bag with a grunt. “Why is this so heavy?” you demanded, feeling the strain in your arm. Then it hit you. “Didn’t I tell you not to bring your books?”

Lori snatched her bag back, clutching it to her chest protectively. “No! I can’t live without them. This one is my favorite.”

You sighed again, rubbing your temples as if it would somehow alleviate the stress of the situation. Arguing with Lori was pointless; she was as stubborn as you were. You glanced over at Bucky, who had been watching the exchange with an amused yet concerned look.

“We should set up camp here,” you said, your voice resigned but firm.

Bucky nodded, but the way his eyes lingered on you told you that he wasn’t just agreeing to the plan; he was agreeing to this unspoken understanding that, despite everything, you were in this together, whether you liked it or not.

As you began to unpack the gear, the reality of your situation weighed heavily on you. The scars, the guilt, the constant running—it was all too much. But here you were, setting up camp in the middle of nowhere with a man who was both your greatest ally and your deepest regret, and a niece who seemed determined to make you believe again in romance.

And all you could think about was how much it hurt, how much it haunted you, and how much you wished things could be different. But in the world you lived in, wishes were just as dangerous as promises.

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

After setting up the camp, you busied yourself with preparing dinner. The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving behind a dusky twilight that painted the sky in shades of purple and orange.

The scent of the forest mingled with the aroma of the food, creating a comforting atmosphere that contrasted sharply with the tension from earlier.

Bucky sat by the lake, his figure a dark silhouette against the shimmering water. He occasionally stole glances in your direction, watching as you moved with practiced efficiency. The sight of you, so capable and yet so burdened, stirred something in him that he couldn’t quite name.

A soft voice broke the stillness. “🎵I’m just a talking plant, don’t mind me,🎵” Lori sang in a playful, lilting tone as she twirled her way over to Bucky. She stopped beside him, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Do you like my aunt?” she asked, her tone innocent yet oddly probing.

Bucky blinked, caught off guard by the directness of the question. What’s wrong with this kid? He raised an eyebrow, trying to mask his surprise.

Lori, undeterred by his silence, continued with a knowing smile. “I get it. You’re a man of few words. You’re exactly like the male character from this book.”

She held up the novel she’d been carrying, the title "The Red Swan" emblazoned on the cover. Bucky tilted his head, the title vaguely familiar but not enough to place it.

“Are you really her niece?” Bucky asked, his curiosity piqued by Lori’s strange mix of wisdom and childlike wonder.

Lori shrugged a carefree gesture that spoke volumes. “My dad is a theater teacher.”

Bucky nodded slowly, the pieces falling into place. That explained a lot—her flair for the dramatic, her perceptiveness, her relentless curiosity.

“Here,” Lori said, thrusting the romance novel into his hands.

“Why?” Bucky asked, looking down at the book with a mix of skepticism and curiosity.

Lori sighed as if explaining something painfully obvious. “It’s as clear as the sky is blue that you like my aunt. But you never express it. If your actions alone aren’t enough, you need to use your words. From the start, you’ve only said thirty-one words. None of us can read each other’s minds.”

Bucky found himself unexpectedly impressed. This kid had been counting his words? And, annoyingly enough, she was right. He glanced at Lori, who gave him a confident salute, her eyes twinkling with a mix of innocence and cunning.

“Trust me,” she said with a playful wink before scampering back over to you, her small figure darting between the trees with the energy of a whirlwind.

Bucky watched her go, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips. There was something endearing about Lori’s antics, the way she seemed to bring a different side out of you, a side he hadn’t seen before. A side he realized he wanted to know more about.

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, and looked down at the book Lori had handed him. Romance novels had never been his thing, but something about the way she insisted piqued his interest.

He flipped to the summary on the back cover, his eyebrows raising in mild surprise at the plot. It was more intricate than he’d expected, with themes of loyalty, betrayal, and forbidden love woven through the narrative.

Intrigued despite himself, Bucky began reading, his fingers brushing the pages as he turned them. As he read, his breath hitched slightly. The story was compelling, drawing him in with its depth and emotion. “This is… interesting,” he murmured to himself, unable to deny the pull of the story.

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

The next morning, the three of you made your way to the train station. It was too risky to fly; the airport would be crawling with potential threats. You handled the ticket counter, purchasing a ticket for Lori while she waited with Bucky a short distance away. She noticed the way he kept his eyes on you, his gaze lingering as if trying to memorize every detail.

Unable to stand the silence any longer, Lori leaned over and pinched his thigh. “You should talk to her,” she whispered, her tone insistent.

Just then, you returned, holding the tickets in your hand. “Alright, I got it,” you said, glancing at Bucky. “I guess this is goodbye. Thanks for helping us.” Your voice was steady, but there was an undercurrent of something unsaid, a tension that hung in the air.

Bucky hesitated, his thoughts warring within him. Then, out of nowhere, he felt a sharp kick to his shin. Lori again, urging him forward. “Say something before you lose this chance!” she hissed.

“Seven years,” Bucky finally said, his voice rough with emotion.

“What?” You turned to him, confused by his sudden declaration.

“I’ve been looking for you and waiting for seven years,” he continued, his eyes locking onto yours.

The words hit you like a tidal wave, stirring up emotions you’d buried deep. Your breath caught in your throat, and your heart pounded in your chest. Seven years. The weight of those words hung between you, thickening the air. Lori squealed beside you, her excitement palpable, but you could barely hear her over the rush of blood in your ears.

Bucky took a step closer, his voice lowering to a near whisper. “I never stopped thinking about you. I never stopped searching. Every lead, every dead end—it all brought me back to you.”

Before you could respond, a sudden prickle of awareness swept over you. You didn’t have to look around to know—you were being watched. Instinct kicked in, and you grabbed Lori’s hand. “We have to go,” you said urgently, pulling her along.

“But Aunt, he’s not done!” Lori protested, glancing back at Bucky as you hurried away.

Bucky was right behind you, not willing to let you slip away again. “We can’t stay together, Bucky!” you insisted, your voice edged with both desperation and regret.

“You’re going to Massachusetts,” he replied, undeterred. “I want to go there too.”

“Why?” you demanded, your eyes narrowing.

Bucky held up the book that Lori had given him. “Because of this.” He pointed to the title on the cover, his expression serious.

“The Red Swan.” The words rolled off your tongue with a sense of familiarity that sent a shiver down your spine. The title dredged up old memories, ones you’d tried hard to forget.

Bucky saw the recognition in your eyes and pressed on. “From what I’ve read—”

“You read it?” Lori interrupted, her voice tinged with awe.

“From what I’ve read,” Bucky continued, his gaze never leaving yours, “the mission in this book mirrors the one we had. The same code names, the same hotel rooms…”

Lori gasped, her eyes wide with amazement. “Oh wow!”

“You don’t mean—” you started, your mind racing to catch up.

Bucky nodded grimly. “I need to see the author of this novel. What’s his deal? How does a romance author know so much about a mission we both lived through? The details are too precise to be coincidence.”

Your heart pounded harder, and you exchanged a glance with Bucky. The implications were chilling. Someone out there knew far too much about your past—a past that was supposed to be buried. And now, that knowledge was in the pages of a book for anyone to read.

"Let's go," you said, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. But then you hesitated, realizing, "Oh, but I didn’t buy your ticket."

Bucky chuckled softly, a rare sound that almost made you smile. "I’ll handle it," he replied, his confidence soothing your worry.

The three of you boarded the train, slipping into a quiet compartment. Lori, practically bouncing with excitement, clasped her hands together. She was thrilled that you and Bucky weren’t parting ways.

Unable to contain her joy, she started singing softly, “🎵We’re all in this together…🎵”

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dixons-sunshine · 5 months

Text

Holding On To You | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Despite not being too keen on PDA, Daryl craved comfort too. He got that comfort by holding your hand in his. It wasn't always that simple, though. He had to work his way up to being comfortable with that. Luckily, you were a patient person.

Or, three different scenarios in where the archer shows progress in his comfort with you.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Pre-prison (on the road); pre-Alexandria; Alexandria, pre Saviour arc.

Warnings: Swearing, migraines, mentions of injuries.

Word count: 2.1k

A/n: @louifaith, the muse you are, feeding our Daryl obsessed minds with your beautifully crafted scenarios. I wasn't feeling well today (a migraine and I was pretty dizzy) and didn't get much writing done, but this idea deserved to be written. There's a bit of Eugene slander in this but it's because I don't really like S5 Eugene. He's way better in the other seasons imo. Anyways, I hope you like this!

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

The cruelty of life seemed endless. With the stability and safety of the farm being something of the past, having to scavenge for scraps and having to move from house to house every few days, and with the impending arrival of Lori's little baby, everyone's spirits were diminished. Everyone longed for the comfort the farm brought for those few weeks you had all been looking for Sophia, everyone wanted a decent meal to satiate their hunger and although Lori's unborn baby was a reminder that innocence still existed, it was also a cruel reminder that you all needed to find someplace to plant some roots, and fast—especially if you didn't want to attract the dead with the baby's loud crying.

You sighed softly as you quietly followed behind Daryl, yours and his boots making clear tracks in the deep snow. The archer, as observant as ever, noticed your shift in mood and turned his head, eyeing you carefully.

“Ya alrigh'?” he questioned, turning his attention back to the tracks in front of him. Your relationship was pretty new, only having been "officially" together since the two of you had shared a kiss back after the fall of the farm.

You nodded, although he couldn't see you. “I'm fine.”

Daryl hummed, unconvinced. “Yer not fine. I know ya better than tha'.”

Your lips twitched up into a smile, walking a little faster to walk next to him. Daryl slowed his pace slightly to allow you to walk next to him at a steady pace, eyeing you as you adjusted your compound bow over your shoulder—a gift he had gotten you when you had mentioned wanting to learn how to hunt.

“I'm fine, I promise. I'm just tired, that's all,” you replied reassuringly, walking almost shoulder to shoulder with your partner.

Daryl shot you a worried look, fully prepared to head back. “If yer tired, we can go back. This trail ain't leadin' us anywhere, anyway.”

“I don't mean tired in the literal sense,” you corrected. “I'm just tired of all this moving around. Not knowing what our next meals going to be, if we even eat at all, not knowing when our current camp's going to be overrun with walkers, not knowing when Lori's baby's going to be here... It's mentally exhausting. We all need a break.”

Daryl nudged his nose up in a nod. “Yeah,” he agreed. “We could do with a couple' of days where we ain't gotta worry.”

Before you could respond, there was a snap of a twig ahead of the two of you. Instinctively, you and Daryl raised your respective weapons in the direction of the noise, expecting to find a walker staggering towards you. However, instead of coming face to face with danger, you saw a small deer walking over to something in the distance.

Daryl raised his crossbow, aiming to take the shot. However, your hand on his arm halted his intentions. He shot you a questioning look, but you only hushed him and beckoned for him to follow you. The two of you slowly crept closer, the scene before you becoming clearer. The small deer made its way to what was presumably its mother, nuzzling against her legs.

You smiled softly at the sight. Despite the fall of the world, beauty still remained. Unbeknownst to you, Daryl was thinking the exact same thing at that moment, but he wasn't looking at the deer. He was gazing at you, taking in your radiant smile, the sparkle in your eyes, just everything about you. You truly were beautiful to the archer.

Hesitantly, Daryl brushed his hand against yours. Your smile widened but you made no move to grab his hand, not wanting to scare him off. You moved at his pace, and whether he held your hand at that moment was his decision.

In the end, the only thing he did was link his pinky with yours, and it was a perfect moment for you. In your mind, that was really good progress for a man who wasn't familiar with giving or receiving comfort. You'd wait as long as you needed to for Daryl to be comfortable around you. You'd never push him, never.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

The road seemed endless. You listened to the incessant yapping from one of your newest companions in your group of ragtag survivors, Eugene Porter, and had to resist the urge to tell him to shut up. Despite the euphoria and relief that came with reuniting with your group and having new members that could help you all, you were tired. Not just physically, but mentally, too. It was so much worse this time around than when you were initially on the road two years back. You were sporting a bruised cheek with deep cuts and scrapes littering the rest of your body, and you had a raging migraine.

And Eugene's droning wasn't helping matters at all.

As if sensing your deteriorating resolve at not biting the poor man's head of, Rick finally called for a break. “We rest here for now. We'll get moving again in an hour. Everything you want to do, do it now. Once we move again, we're not stopping until nightfall.”

Everyone soon dispersed, some heading to a nearby creek to refill the water supply, some starting a small fire to heat up some food and some even laying down on the hard ground to get some much needed sleep. You walked over to a tree and slid down against it, resting your head on your knees, willing the migraine away.

You soon heard a rustling next to you, before feeling a body sitting down next to you. You didn't even have to look up to know it was Daryl—the archer's presence was something you had grown used to and you could identify him anywhere.

“Hey,” he greeted you quietly, loosely hugging his knees. “Ya alrigh'?”

You hummed, lifting your head to look at him. “I'm fine,” you replied. “I just have a migraine.”

Daryl nodded, his face showing sympathy for you. “M'sorry we dun' have anythin' fer yer migraine. I know how bad they can get.”

You smiled and shook your head, placing your hand on the ground beside you, right between you and Daryl. “It's okay. It'll go away eventually. It's not that bad, as long as Eugene's quiet.”

Daryl chuckled, eyeing the aforementioned man who was sitting near the campfire. “Yeah, he's quite annoying, ain't he?”

“No, he's alright. He just needs to learn to be quiet from time to time.”

Daryl hummed and quieted down, simply basking in the early afternoon heat under the shade of the tree while the two of you observed the survivors going about their chores. However, Rick soon called for everyone to regroup, and you and Daryl got up to follow behind him.

You and Daryl walked at the back, giving you some semblance of privacy, and some semblance of relief from Eugene's rambling as he was at the front with Abraham and Rosita. Slowly and hesitantly, Daryl moved closer to you and brushed his hand against yours, before slowly interlacing his fingers through yours.

You smiled up at him, and he returned the smile with a small one of his own. It may not have been the first time that you've held hands with the archer, but it was the first time that you've done so with people around. Although Daryl slightly manoeuvred the two of you in a way that your locked hands wouldn't draw attention if people weren't directly looking at you, it was still a big deal for you. He was starting to show you off publicly. Although people back at the prison knew you as "the hunter's girl" because of an incident where a guy flirted with you and Daryl put him in his place, PDA wasn't something they ever saw from the man. He preferred to keep that part of your lives private—so this simple gesture was a big deal.

You squeezed his hand, a gesture you and Daryl had come up with to quietly tell the other "I love you". Daryl smiled softly and squeezed your hand back.

You truly loved this man, and he had shown countless times that he loved you, too.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“You guys should come over again. This was nice,” Eric told you with a smile, him and Aaron walking out onto the porch with you and Daryl.

You smiled at him and nodded. “We will, especially if you're going to be serving that spaghetti you made again. It was delicious. Seriously, thank you. It's the best meal we've had in a while.”

“No thanks necessary,” Aaron replied, waving you off. “It was our pleasure.”

Daryl nodded, moving to shake Aaron's extended hand. “Thanks. This was a hell of a lot better than tha' party at Deanna's woulda been.”

Aaron nodded and withdrew his hand again, allowing Eric to take his place before moving over to give you a hug. You returned it before giving Eric a hug too, and then pulled back.

“We should get going. Once again, thanks for tonight.”

“Once again, it's our pleasure,” Eric laughed. “Goodnight, guys. We'll see you around.”

“Goodnight,” you greeted them.

“Nigh',” Daryl responded, turning to you and subconsciously extending his hand to you.

You smiled at him but didn't say anything, not wanting him to change his mind about it. You slipped your hand into his and walked with him down the porch steps and into the relatively quiet streets of Alexandria, music from Deanna's party playing very faintly in the background.

You and Daryl didn't instantly go home. You simply walked through the streets, familiarising yourselves with the community. Daryl never let go of your hand; he had even brought your hand up to his lips once to kiss your knuckles, and your heart swelled with love for the man.

The two of you had run into a couple of the people in the community who were returning to their homes after the party, and you had suspected that Daryl would pull his hand from yours, but he never did. His grip on your hand seemed to tighten slightly during your interactions with those people, seeking your comfort around people he didn't know. It made you feel special, important. It made you happy to know that the man you met back at the quarry trusted you enough to bring him comfort.

Later that night, when the two of you returned to the empty house and retreated into the sanctuary of your shared basement, snuggled up together under the covers was when you finally addressed what he had done. Daryl was laying with his head on your chest, absentmindedly tracing shapes and figures onto your hand.

“You held my hand today,” you told him, softly threading your fingers through his freshly washed, brown locks, the shower having been courtesy of your skillful convincing.

“Mhm,” Daryl hummed absentmindedly, nuzzling his face deeper into your chest.

“In front of people,” you said, eyeing his reaction carefully.

Daryl simply glanced up at you, his face not revealing anything. “Ya want me to stop doin' tha'?”

You shook your head. “No, I like it. It's just a little out of the ordinary for you, and it took me by surprise.”

Daryl was quiet for a few moments. “I always wanna hold yer hand when we're walkin' together. I jus' never had the courage to. Dun' want people to overreact when they see it. But, I dunno... I love ya and I'll be damned if I dun' hold my girl's hand 'cause of wha' people think.”

You giggled and kissed the top of Daryl's head. “So I can expect an increase in handholding?”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah.”

You smiled at him. “Good. That's exactly what I wanted to hear. I love you, Dar.”

Daryl placed a kiss to your chest, before laying his head back down. “Love ya more, sunshine.”

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