Walker Bait
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader
Summary: An unforeseen foray into a sex shop leaves you and Daryl trapped between a plastic cock and a hard place as a herd of walkers closes in. Angry sex ensues.
Warnings: NSFW. Protected p-in-v. Oral (m!receiving). Hatefucking, facefucking, and lots of dirty talk, leaning heavy on the “enemies” in the enemies-to-lovers trope. Mentions of a variety of sex toys and other filthy materials, including a blueberry-flavored condom and a walker wearing nipple clamps. 6.5k words.
“All ya gotta do is suck it.”
You were eye-level with the length of it now, all but staring down the barrel of the gun, so to speak. You wetted your lips, shifted uncomfortably on your knees. Then, almost reluctantly, you looked up at Daryl.
“What if it gets in my mouth?”
“It won’t.”
Daryl gripped the base of it with a sturdy hand and guided it closer to your mouth. You made a face as if to recoil, but Daryl was adamant. Insistent. One more false start and he’d probably just shove the thing down your throat. A man of many virtues he may have been, but patience was not among them.
“If I’d known you’d take this long I would’ve done it myself,” he scoffed.
You had just begun parting your lips to allow him entry, but on hearing this, you forced them shut, frowned, and opened them again just to retort:
“Why don’t you, then?! You wanna suck this shit so bad, be my guest.” You were already wobbling back onto your feet, wiping the dirt off your jeans and watching Daryl’s face turn even redder.
“‘Cause I’m teachin’ you, dipshit,” he snapped, “Can’t even tie yer fuckin’ shoes, but I figured ya maybe could siphon gas this once. My bad.”
And there it was: smug, shitstain Daryl ready to jump down your throat with another show of superiority. You couldn’t track, couldn’t forage, couldn’t hunt, couldn’t suck the gasoline out of a car or even put the hose in your mouth. You were useless in his eyes, and he was never shy to make sure you knew it. He looked you over once and hardly seemed to see you at all—just narrowed his eyes and flung the plastic tube in your direction.
Because Rick and all the rest of them were home, and you were here, scoping out the remnants of a seedy one stoplight town miles away, Daryl felt far more at liberty to act like a dick. He would’ve rather anyone been by his side but you, and he let you know as much, but somehow, in some sick and absurd twist of fate, you had been obliged to tag along. You sensed it was because you were the newest addition to Alexandria. And, quite frankly, because you sucked at every other task you’d been given, sucking gas out of cars was all that was left for you to do.
So easy a walker with a dislodged jaw could’ve done it. But you couldn’t. And Daryl despised you for it.
“Figure it out,” he muttered, turning on his heels to stalk off.
You weren’t sure if it was the irate glint in his eyes or the air of condescension in his tone, but you were floored. He’d made two, maybe three steps in the opposite direction when he felt something strike the black leather on his back. He turned again, dropped his gaze to the ground, and saw the plastic hose at his feet. When he looked back up, you were quick to trail behind, stomping past him without a second glance.
“Suck it yourself, asshole.” And you couldn’t help it; you gave him the finger over your shoulder.
You didn’t need eyes in the back of your head to see the rancid, sullen scowl plastered flat across Daryl’s face. Didn’t need ultrasonic hearing to catch him curse beneath his breath and kick something at his feet. You just kept walking in the other direction and hoped with everything you had he wouldn’t follow.
When you’d made it a ways down the street and Daryl hadn’t bothered to chase after you, you breathed a sigh of relief. Now he could raid the mini mart and loot canned foods to his heart’s content or prove himself useful in fifty other ways, and you could just explore.
From the looks of it, you were at the heart of this defunct podunk town and had virtually every amenity at your fingertips.
A barbershop on your right and a dive bar on your left, two boutiques with their windows all busted in, an unsightly patch of grass that once passed as a park, and one lone Texaco, almost treacherous in the light of day as it stood without a single car stationed at its pumps. “NO WAY OUT” emblazoned on a makeshift placard and half a dozen bodies littering the sidewalk before you.
Nothing quite like that small town Southern charm.
Against your better judgment, you went fishing in your back pocket for a few familiar friends to lift your spirits. First, the near-spent package of Virginia Slims, then the lighter, then your Walkman and headphones. An admittedly lethal combination for any would-be survivor of the apocalypse—limiting your hearing and crippling your lungs was no way to live in a world like this, Carol always warned before she snatched both culprits from your hands—but you didn’t care today. You were most of the way down the street and turning down a side avenue; if any walkers were in the vicinity, you figured you would’ve heard them moaning and groaning and dragging their boney asses behind you long before. By all appearances, you and Daryl were totally alone.
You thumbed one miniature flame into view and brought it close to the cigarette you had clamped between your teeth. Then you deposited the lighter back in your pocket, snapped your headset over your ears, and fiddled with the portable cassette player until the strains of some archaic Molly Hatchet tune went spiraling in your ears—“Bounty Hunter,” by the sounds of it.
You were walking at an easy pace now. Took a left off Main and strolled quietly onto Sheppard Street, careful to dodge every bottle, beer can, and rotting body you could. You took a drag and ogled some of the saddest storefronts you’d ever seen. Windows all blown to bits and insides looking like shit as every place appeared to be looted.
It wasn’t until you’d walked a little longer and made your way past the epicenter of the havoc that you saw any spot worth looking at. Where it seemed every other place for food, clothes, firearms, or frozen yogurt along this stretch of road was ransacked and dilapidated, you noticed one building that wasn’t.
In fact, it stopped you dead in your tracks and warranted a triple take to ensure you were seeing things properly the first time you saw it. Blinking with disbelief in the face of this scorching Georgia heat, came your first, unfathomable, ‘What the fuck?’
Juicy Peach Pleasure Shop—Take a bite inside!
There were some sick, twisted people in this world before the turn, that was for sure.
You made a beeline for the entrance.
Admittedly, you’d seen your fair share of funky ass sex shops in your day, but this one took the cake. All shuttered up and seemingly untouched since the world first went to shit—because who in their right mind was robbing a pocket pussy emporium in the midst of the apocalypse?—the store was in surprisingly pristine condition.
The inside was probably tiny and grimy and crawling with walkers—but it was also now your only hope to make yourself useful to the Alexandria community, you thought.
You quickly came to realize that this store would allow you to supply a truckload of sex toys and offer every adult back home the opportunity at a kinkier recreational outlet. With a stockpile of vibrators, ball gags, and anal beads alike, you could finally show them you were good for something. Maybe even worth keeping around, in spite of your subpar siphoning skills and the fact that you’d scared off nearly every animal Daryl attempted to hunt.
You’d be a Juicy Peach pioneer, and one that was likely to meet with tremendous success, if you could just…get the damn door open.
You gave the handle several violent shakes and thrust your body against the door, to no avail.
The sun’s rays were relentless on your back and already bringing a sheen of sweat to your skin, try as you might to keep your cool. You fooled around a few more seconds with the knob, found it hopelessly stuck in its position, and were about ready to abandon the task altogether when you felt the glass begin to give way. Instead of pushing the door, all you had to do was pull it open.
If you were around anyone else but yourself and the dead, you probably would’ve blushed. Would’ve taken a peek at your surroundings, perhaps lifted one half of your headset off your ears and tried to listen to see if anyone had heard. But no, you forged ahead, as careless and oblivious as you were engrossed in the present song’s guitar solo.
Should you have bothered to do either, you likely would’ve heard a set of feet sprinting in your direction and seen someone reaching for you in a hurry. Would’ve caught a glimpse of the stranger’s left hand before it clamped over your mouth or the right as it closed around your own on the door handle and yanked it back. The next thing you knew, you were being hauled inside and held tight against someone’s body, all but immobile in their grip and struggling to gasp for air.
Then a breath, hot on your ear as the person pulled you closer:
“Herd. Don’t move.”
You tensed in Daryl’s arms and watched the scene unfold before you. Just outside the store’s boarded windows, a super-sized group of geeks began to descend on the street where you’d just been standing. Seeing them shuffle, stumble, groan, and hiss their way down, you shuddered to think you hadn’t heard them at all—and would have been overrun in a minute if Daryl hadn’t intervened just then.
The man’s hand remained glued to your mouth, sensing you might shriek as you watched the horde grow in size.
Slowly, he backed you away from the door and started looking around.
“Daryl, I—” you began in a whisper, turning around to face him.
Before you could continue, a half-rotted corpse rose from the floor a few feet away and started toward you and Daryl. You fought your first inclination to scream, remembering your current predicament, and opted instead for a frantic, furious wave of your arm as you pointed behind Daryl.
The man leveled his crossbow in a blink and had a bolt lodged in the walker’s skull even faster. You watched the body crumple to the ground, just before another one of its companions came rounding the corner.
This time, Daryl slipped his dagger from the sheath on his belt and in a single, swift maneuver, drove the blade through the walker’s temple. You watched with widened, paralyzed eyes as this one, too, dropped fast to the floor. But when it did, you still couldn’t bring yourself to displace your gaze, for something bizarre had snagged your attention.
“What in the everliving fuck is tha’?” Daryl breathed, eyes stuck to the same sight as yours.
That rank, decayed biter had a pair of nipple clamps fastened to its chest.
Just as your mind raced to furnish the man with an answer, Daryl took a sweeping look around the place and scrunched his nose.
“Is this—”
“Daryl, I can explain—”
You watched the anger flare in his eyes as he turned.
“You got us trapped in a sex shop?” Daryl snarled.
Though neither of you were in a position to speak too far above a whisper with the walkers outside, it was painfully obvious that your partner was yearning to yell in your face. In an instant, he got within an inch of it and stood towering over you, seething between gritted teeth:
“Risked our lives for a fuckin’ vibrator?”
“How was I supposed to know?” you whispered back, gesturing wildly to the window behind you.
Daryl’s fingers curled into fists, and for a second it seemed like one was primed to strike the nearest surface, but he stopped. Unclenched his hands and simply glared down at you.
“Ain’t you a peach,” he muttered, low and slow, “Ain’t you a goddamn useless little peach, huh?”
He took off in the other direction, probably in search of a back exit.
You stood and silently scolded yourself for feeling even the slightest inkling of arousal at the last, sarcasm-soaked insult. What the hell was wrong with you?
You hung back another minute or so and weren’t surprised in the least when you heard Daryl groan out loud, coming to find the back door barricaded all the way to the ceiling.
“Sonovabitch!”
Taking one, apprehensive look out the window, you observed the herd hadn’t budged. They were moving and milling about, to be sure, but the bulk of them hadn’t wavered from the shop’s front stoop, leaving you and Daryl prisoners within these four walls.
You flinched when one of the walkers bumped its near-fleshless head against the glass. Silently, warily, you backed away and hoped it wouldn’t stray any further.
At length, none of them did.
Nearly an hour had passed before you could tear yourself away from the window, watching each doe-eyed, groaning monster outside like your life depended on it. Then Daryl came staggering back, all but drenched in sweat and slashed every which way down his arms. He’d been prying whatever stuff he could get from the exit, only to find that the door itself had been boarded up and jammed shut. The herd hadn’t stirred.
Daryl had barely been able to look at you when he demanded you start looking—for batteries, rope, whatever the hell you could find in this “depraved place.” You’d gone searching without another word, and the pair of you had been radio silent ever since. Combing over aisles of porn flicks and cock pumps and pretending like this wasn’t the most uncomfortable thing either of you had ever had to do.
When the opportunity to slip somewhere else first presented itself, you took it.
Toward the back of the store, you found a set of changing rooms. All cluttered with boxes and other junk but nevertheless a potential treasure trove for supplies. You eased your way in.
To your relief, there were only two half-rotted walkers making their rounds amongst the wreckage. You knifed them both and went calmly about your business.
And for awhile, it was just that—business. You were ecstatic to find two pairs of boxcutters, a dozen rolls of tape, and more rope than you knew what to do with. You had loaded your arms chock-full of finds, were just about to step outside to show Daryl, when a clothes rack caught your eye.
You turned your head and stopped to take in the sight.
On a single, flimsy hanger at the center of the shelf, there dangled a baby pink lace lingerie set.
You hadn’t seen anything that tantalizing, lithe, and sheer in a long, long time. You were practically drawn to it, feeling your feet shuffle clumsily in its direction and your arms drop every last item they held. Surely, then, you embodied everything a Victoria’s Secret salesman could’ve dreamed—so singularly focused on that stupid piece of clothing that you were literally stepping over dead bodies to get there.
If Daryl could see you then, he’d probably slap you upside the head.
“This ain’t a fashion show, sweetheart, we got the dead beatin’ down our front door!” You could almost hear him now.
Almost. Any hypothetical harangue from your supply run partner and every other pressing concern, it seemed, was lost on you now. All you knew was lace embroidery and plunging necklines, satin fabrics and fuck-me mesh open gussets.
You were clothed in the garment quicker than you could say, ‘Bad idea.’ You did a spin in the mirror.
A thousand dumb ideas danced before your mind’s eye as you placed your hands on your hips, moved your shoulders in sync, gave your ass a little shake. It was ridiculous, but you just hadn’t thought of yourself that way in so long; it was like you were staring at a brand new reflection. Years in a noxious, nightmarish world like the one you currently inhabited would do that. Turn a person into a bloodless stoic, so focused on the means of survival that they couldn’t even say a simple—
“What the fuck?!”
Your heart leapt into your throat when you saw Daryl’s form appear in the corner of the mirror. You quickly covered your tits and turned back to look at him.
“I-I-I’m sorry, Daryl, I—”
“You off yer fuckin’ rocker or sumn’?” Daryl spat, striding right over to you, “We got a whole pack of walkers champin’ at the bit to get us outside, and yer in here playin’ dress up?!”
Daryl clenched his jaw and shoved the clothes rack to the side, sending it tumbling over the two dead walkers with a crash. You hugged your arms to your chest even tighter.
Just when you opened your mouth to speak again, to try and apologize once more, Daryl shoved a thick, angry finger in your face.
“If you go and get yer dumbass devoured by a dildo-wielding geek, tha’s on you. I ain’t fuckin’ comin’ ta save ya no more.”
Damn if the man didn’t have a way with words, even when he was fuming out the ears.
You glanced down and immediately wished you hadn’t. Or had, sooner. Your blue-eyed nemesis was currently sporting the largest hard-on you thought you’d ever seen.
Daryl looked down too and seemed only to grow in his anger, if that were even possible, as it appeared he was infuriated at the sight below him. Enraged with his own erection.
You almost would’ve found this predicament amusing if you weren’t still afraid Daryl might throw you over his shoulder and feed you to the herd outside. Deciding to play it safe, you kept your mouth shut and stood with your hands clasped in front of you. Eyed the outline of his dick only once. Okay, maybe twice.
When your eyes traveled back up to his face in a nervous gaze, you found that Daryl was glaring at you. A hand hovered uncertainly above his belt buckle.
“Fuck it.” You heard him say under his breath before suddenly reaching for you.
Your whole body tensed in his calloused hands as he shoved you toward the door, gripping your wrists behind your back and thrusting you ahead.
You dug your heels into the floor, uselessly, trying to stop your vicious path past the changing rooms and into the store. Your eyes widened as you saw an even larger horde amassed beyond the front door, and for several, fleeting seconds you seriously thought that Daryl might throw you out there.
“Daryl, please,” you wailed, thrashing against him, “I didn’t mean it, I was being stupid—you don’t have to do this!”
At the center of the store, Daryl stopped. Spun you around shortly to face him.
“What?”
“Don’t feed me to the herd, please, I’m begging you.” Your stomach clenched with fear.
Daryl’s expression shifted almost imperceptibly. If you weren’t so goddamn terrified, you would’ve detected that tiny change was in fact amusement.
“‘M not gon’ feed you to the walkers, girl,” he grunted, all matter-of-fact. Then, just as calmly, “‘M gonna fuck you over this counter.”
Oh.
It seemed your World War Z nightmare-fantasy had taken a pornographic turn. The meaning of his words hardly registered in your brain before he shuttled you off to the cashier’s counter at the front of the store. Before you knew it, you were lying flat on a cold, glass surface and staring straight out into a sea of undead faces a few yards ahead. You swallowed.
You flinched with another grating sensation, this time at your wrists.
You glanced over your shoulder and saw Daryl binding your hands together behind your back. Where he had obtained the black BDSM rope in the time it had taken him to bring you here was beyond you.
“Not to be a Debbie Downer here or anything, but isn’t this...kind of…dangerous?” you asked, jerking your head in the direction of the walkers outside the window.
“Don’t care.” Daryl pulled the rope even tighter.
“But they can hear us if they’re right outside.”
From your vantage point, it seemed Daryl was ready to yank your hair and pound you senseless. Instead, he smiled. Gave your ass a light pat.
“Then you’d be wise to keep tha’ pretty mouth of yours shut while I’m fuckin’ ya, sunshine.”
Daryl pressed one quick kiss on your shoulder before bounding off in the other direction. You shimmied helplessly against your restraints as you tried to flip yourself over.
“You’re sick, Dixon. You’re a sick son of a bitch, I hope you know that,” you whisper-shouted after him. You doubt he heard you but had a sneaking suspicion he’d already seen the soaked-through spot between your legs to disprove it even if he had. You pressed your head to the counter and cursed your primal instincts for turning your lower half into an uncomely mess every time a man twice your age said something mean to you.
You would’ve liked to have leaned back—or, rather, forward—and said a big ‘fuck you’ to Molly Hatchet as well for getting you into this bind in the first place, were it not for the sound of Daryl’s footsteps returning.
“Listen, I learned my lesson, Dar. If you could just untie me, we would be a lot better off figuring out a way to escape this place than—”
You yelped as something smacked your ass. It wasn’t Daryl’s hand.
“Ouch!” You strained against the rope once more, only succeeding in wiggling your ass before Daryl’s pleasantly occupied eyes.
“C’mon now, it ain’t tha’ bad, honey. Stuff’s meant to feel good,” he chided. Another strike on your ass check punctuated his words.
He was right; it didn’t really hurt. Just felt strange, all bent over and exposed before him like that. You glanced back and saw the crop in his hands, the smug look on his face, and for a second, you did feel a twinge of pleasure as you imagined him doing much more.
You whimpered when he spanked you again—this time, with the flattened palm of his hand.
“Better?” Daryl quipped, grinning.
The second you nodded your head, you heard the sound of the crop clatter to the floor behind you. Daryl swiftly took your ass in both hands and started kneading the skin. Really digging his fingers into the flesh and sending shockwaves trembling all through your body.
“Rick’s the only reason yer here, y’know,” Daryl said behind you. You yelped when he smacked your ass again, and you curled your toes into the linoleum below.
The man rubbed the spot as soon as he’d struck it, palming your skin like it was the softest, smoothest thing he’d ever felt.
“Thinks you’d be an asset.” Another slap on your rear.
“I told him he don’t know wha’ the fuck he’s talkin’ ‘bout. Said you were ‘bout as useful as a one-legged man in an ass-kickin’ contest.”
You fought back a chuckle. That was pretty good.
And when he spanked your ass another time, the sting didn’t hurt as much. You propped your chin on the surface beneath you, pursed your lips, and actually suppressed the threat of a moan.
“I said ya were a liability,” Daryl continued, “Didn’t know no fuckin’ manners neither.”
At that, you were tempted to speak, almost wanting to defend yourself against his baseless accusations. But Daryl stopped that from happening, as he grabbed a fistful of your hair and arched your back up to meet his face, half-standing.
“I think ya need me ta teach ya some manners, how ‘bout tha’?” he growled in your ear.
If the warmth pooling between your legs couldn’t answer for you, you decided words would have to do. You nodded and said, “Uh-huh.”
Daryl threw you back onto the counter and gave your ass another brutal smack.
“‘Uh-huh’ don’t sound too polite to me, sugar,” he said sharply, cruelly. He didn’t soothe your backside with the pulse of his fingers and stood back from you instead.
“Yes...y-yes sir,” you stammered out, legs trembling underneath you.
Your feet were slightly raised, all but standing on tip-toes to keep your body propped up against the counter, and you were suddenly aware that your cunt was plainly exposed. The open gusset in your lacy attire seemed to have spread even further, swelling with the size of your now-engorged folds and probably displaying yourself to Daryl in all the worst ways.
The man groaned behind you.
You sensed some fabric shuffle, the clink of a belt come undone, and finally a tongue—pressed flat against you and licking a stripe up your oozing heat.
You shuddered forward on the tabletop and let out a lewd-sounding squeal. Your eyes widened at the sight ahead of you as you swore you could’ve seen a walker turn their rotted head in your direction outside. Daryl clamped a hand over your mouth.
“Now tha’s— what we’re not gonna do,” he whispered through gritted teeth, “We’re not gonna make one fuckin’ sound so the geeks out there can stay right where they are. Ya hear me?”
Daryl’s hand moved to your throat and pinched it in a vicious grip when you didn’t answer him.
“Ya hear me?”
You managed one strangled ‘Yes sir’ and left your lips parted as Daryl placed a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss on them. He stepped back again.
You heard some other quiet stirrings behind you as Daryl fiddled with something above your back. Frankly, you were already too lust-struck and cum-hungry to care, breathing out in soft, gentle puffs of air as you tried to rein in your reeling mind. You watched the walkers for a minute, tried to ground yourself in the unsavory reality all around you—the precarious position you were currently standing in, as one stray stumble of one of those undead shitheads might veritably mean the end of you and Daryl’s lives as you knew it—and you sighed. Scanned your eyes across the sea of wretched, fleshy heads and wanted to hurl.
At present, Daryl stroked your lower back with the tips of his fingers.
“Y’know, it’s been real tough ta find anything useful here,” he mused aloud, running his touch over your skin and sending a flurry of goosebumps in its path, “Ain’t nothin’ worth keepin’ here, really—‘cept maybe some dirty magazines.”
You internally rolled your eyes. Good for you, Daryl.
Then he lifted his hand and dragged it down a little further, causing you to clench your legs and snag your bottom lip between your teeth.
“But I got curious, see…” Daryl’s forefinger followed the contour of your ass and slid down between your cheeks, traveling lazily ‘til he reached your aching core. He sank that same finger deep between your folds and circled around in your heat, eliciting a strained whimper above as he gathered your juices.
“Daryl—” you whined.
“Don’t interrupt,” Daryl growled, slapping your pussy.
You winced and let out the smallest of moans. Daryl smirked.
“I found some stuff,” he resumed, “Might actually make this little trip worthwhile.”
You panted in your current position, hardly hearing a word he said.
When he lifted something else to your heat, you did quickly sense that his wasn’t any part of his hand, or even his cock. You squirmed in place but didn’t speak.
“Found batteries,” Daryl declared, as though it were the grandest discovery he’d ever made.
“Ya know what batteries are good for, darlin’?” You could almost hear the grin in his voice.
Before you could answer, you felt a fierce pulse at your center. A tremor, a throb, an artificial oscillation.
A vibration.
You moaned.
Daryl twirled the tip of a pink vibrator against your clit and pressed.
So overcome with that raw, potent jolt, you couldn’t help it when you cried, “Fuck, Daryl!”
Daryl didn’t cover your mouth, but he did withdraw the device from your slit for a moment, just to whisper in your ear to shut. the fuck. up. The two of you ogled the swarm of walkers once more and stood in muted suspense. Waiting for one to turn toward the glass.
Not a single set of eyes drifted in your direction.
Bent over you with a buzzing vibrator at your core, Daryl couldn’t deny the rush was...addictive. He pushed the thing a little deeper and smiled when you stifled a moan.
“Ya might’ve been right comin’ all the way out here after all,” Daryl teased, “This shit’s way more fun than suckin’ gas, don’t ya think?”
You buried your face in the glass and wanted to scream when Daryl’s fingers started sliding in and out of your hole.
You were being so good, not making a sound, eyes all but welled up with tears at the pleasure that was coursing through your body. Daryl rubbed your back with his other hand and seemed to be treating you a little gentler now.
“Aw, tha’s my girl,” he said, words ripe with condescension. He traced his palm up the length of your spine and kept fingering you quietly. You barely even noticed that the vibrator was designed to hook inside you, still punishing your clit as it quivered away at the sensitive spot within your walls.
“Who woulda thought all it would take ta shake that disobedience away was a couple’a fingers in yer cunt and a stupid little toy.”
You were far too close to your release to give a shit about his patronizing speech; you bucked your hips against his hand, his front, and gritted your teeth as a tender bubble of pleasure grew deep within your belly. Then, to your surprise, you felt Daryl clasp your fingers while they were still knotted with rope behind you and squeezed them.
“Tha’s a good girl. Cum all over me, make tha’ pussy feel nice f’me, c’mon.”
You followed his command in short order and released all over his hand, humping his fingers and humming through a muffled shriek as you came.
Daryl beamed with pride and hardly had it in him to look away, notwithstanding the growing throng of walkers close ahead of you. He uncurled his fingers, slid them out, and took a nice, long taste of his hand while he watched you writhe underneath him.
“Take it out!” you hissed, thrashing against the vibrator still buzzing within you, “Take it out, take it out, take it out!”
In truth, you’d never felt so fucking good in your life. You surprised yourself when you stood there another couple seconds and came again, clenching repeatedly over the tiny pink toy and groaning into the condensation-dampened glass.
“FUCK!” you screamed, this time with no hint of restraint.
Daryl’s eyes bulged out of his head, and he yanked the thing out of you. Gaze darting to the window in a petrified look.
One walker paused in place and craned its neck with the slowest of motions. It stared blankly at the window before it but didn’t move. Daryl saw its mouth open and close, wheezing something violent, and stared another few seconds before shuffling back to its previous path. Daryl closed his eyes.
“What did I say about—” he started to whisper down to you, but you cut him short,
“We need a safe word or something, Daryl. This is too fuckin’ risky.”
You were right about that. Daryl straightened up and tucked the vibrator in his pocket, before wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.
“Yeah? How ‘bout ‘Walker Bait’?” he muttered, rubbing his face.
Then he was fumbling with the rope around your wrists and loosening it up. His heart was still thudding in his chest, scared half to death with the narrow miss you’d just had, though he didn’t want you to see it. He turned around as soon as you’d gotten free.
“Fine by me,” you grumbled back.
You watched Daryl disappear down a random aisle and felt obliged to cross your arms over your chest, pivoting back to the walkers with a wary gaze.
And, just when you started to wander back into the recesses of your mind, watching the swarm grow thicker and thicker and starting to doubt you’d ever escape this nightmare, you felt Daryl’s hands on you again. Squeezing your hips and turning you to face him.
“Jump,” he ordered.
You did as he said and locked your legs around his waist, welcomed by the familiar feeling of the counter behind you as Daryl pressed your bodies into it. He half-braced you against it, half-held you in his arms as he fingered something small and delicate beneath you.
Your smile widened at the sight of a condom wrapper being torn in two, and grew even bigger when you caught a glimpse of the rubber itself.
It was bright blue and littered with ridges. You laughed.
“The hell is that, Dixon?” you asked, bringing a hand to your mouth to muffle your amusement.
Daryl gingerly dragged the cobalt-colored condom over his length and made a face.
“Ain’t a single damn rubber here for normal people,” he grunted, “This one’s fuckin’ blueberry flavored.”
At the last, neither of you could contain your laughter as you both stared down at the bizarre blue condom stretching over Daryl’s cock. You scooted forward just a little.
“Never a dull moment with you, is there, Dar?” you said as you pushed his chest lightly. Telling him to step back so you could hop down and sink to the floor in front of him.
Daryl sucked in a breath as you took his shaft in your hands. He slapped a hand on the countertop and squeezed when your tongue darted past your lips.
Surely he couldn’t get a fruit-flavored condom and not expect you to give it a taste.
With the base of his cock between your fingers, you licked a long, wide line up his dick and moaned.
“Doesn’t taste much like blueberries,” you hummed, feigning disappointment as you gazed up at Daryl. He gripped the counter even harder and gritted his teeth to suppress a groan.
Regardless of the unsavory artificial flavor, you took the head of his cock between your lips and sucked. Bobbed your head up and down over his length as though trying to get a real mouthful of those so-called berry juices. You found yourself sorely dissatisfied with the taste but more than compensated for this loss in the form of Daryl’s throaty moans above you. It seemed he was letting loose on the restraints to keep quiet and finally gripping your hair, rutting into your mouth.
“Ah, honey, tha’s’it. Tha’s a good little slut,” he panted as he pushed you further down on his cock.
You tried not to gag when he grazed the back of your throat but couldn’t control the reflex. Daryl groaned even louder above you.
In a second, you were plucked off his bright blue boner and taken back into his arms, then shoved on the surface behind you.
“I ain’ fuckin’ waitin’ no more. Ya done achin’ for daddy’s cock?”
You nodded that you were. You readily accepted Daryl’s lips on your own and his tongue pushed deep in your mouth as he showered you with a string of sloppy kisses. Shifted you in his arms almost viciously, frantically, before bringing you down on his cock.
The second you were fully impaled on him, the two of you groaned. You bucked your hips and he rutted his, bouncing you up and down again and again with no time at all to adjust to his size.
All that could be heard in the deserted store was the sounds of your skin slapping against one another, punctuated every now and then with strangled moans and stifled whimpers. You steadied your hands on either one of his shoulders and stared, deeply, in Daryl’s half-hooded eyes. He panted out a breathy sigh as you clenched around him.
“Tha’s right, girl, fuckin’ take it. Take this fuckin’ cock like it’s yours,” he growled.
“It is mine, Daryl,” you bit back, grinding even harder, “Tell me it’s mine.”
Daryl’s jaw seemed to slacken just a bit, evidently aroused by the sound of you talking so dirty to him. In a blink, he was digging his nails in your sides and saying,
“It’s yours, baby. All fuckin’ yours.”
If someone had told you at the start of the day that this was how your dreaded supply run with Daryl would go, you wouldn’t have believed them. As your once-despised partner drilled you even deeper and caught your lips in a frenzied kiss, you still almost couldn’t comprehend it now. You bounced, and you writhed, and you rolled your desperate hips against him, but how in the fuck did this happen?
The moment Daryl dropped his thumb to your clit, you decided you didn’t care.
Your walls hugged him even tighter as he drew loose circles all over your swollen nub, and your head fell back. Daryl held you even tighter.
“Gonna cum again f’me? Gonna cum all over this cock?” he goaded you as your heels dug deep in his lower back.
All you could do was nod again—bring your lazy, fucked-out gaze back to Daryl and murmur in what hardly felt like words to you at all:
“Y-yes, daddy, yes.”
Daryl smiled at the sound of that word on your lips and thrusted his hips even harder, fucking you fast to build the friction on your sensitive, trembling walls.
That, paired with the flick of his thumb on your clit and the narrowing eyes holding you tight to his gaze—wordlessly coaxing you to cum for him now, make daddy proud—sent your senses spiraling into ecstasy. You released all over Daryl’s fat, throbbing cock and gripped him harder than you ever had before.
Before another scream could escape your lips, Daryl yanked you closer for a kiss and attempted to swallow every sound as his own orgasm surged inside him. You felt the man move both hands to your sides, seize them, and all but crush the bones beneath his fingers as he fucked you hard against the counter. He shot his load in the condom and groaned against your mouth.
Two former enemies, fucked out like a couple of crazed fools, stayed glued in place and blinked back at one other like you hardly understood what had just happened. Grinning nonetheless.
As Daryl leaned in for one last kiss, the pair of you froze—something rapped against the window.
The two of you turned and almost swore you could’ve felt your stomachs fall to the floor.
The herd of walkers outside, seemingly doubled in size, now stood at full attention at the storefront. Every undead, rotted head turned straight to face you.
They looked real fucking hungry.
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Love/Hate
Summary// celebrating a successful mission, you and Bucky snap back at each other. Things getting more heated once back home (goddamn why do my summaries suck so fucking bad)
Warnings// low blow comments, smut 2x, light eye fucking, big dick Bucky, hate fucking/anger fucking, rough sex, scratching, biting, maybe toxic(?Idk?), reader tells Bucky to ‘shut up’, some degrading, oral (m receiving), finger sucking, kinda spit kink, light begging, Bucky’s filthy mouth, sensual morning sex, filth. It’s filth. With a smidgen of plot.
AU// Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Note// if this one flops I’ll cry bc I’m actually kinda proud of it 😅 it’s based off of the hate fuck wyr ask, smooches to you Hatefuck anon
Dividers by// @firefly-graphics
18+ ONLY MINORS DNI
“I call that a job well done.” Steve grinned, leaning back in his seat as he looked at everyone who sat in the nearly empty bar. Only a few people left lingering since it was so close to last call.
Everyone slowly got caught up in their own conversations, laughing and talking about different things all at once. Bucky hunkered over in the corner as he sipped his beer in silence, occasionally catching himself looking over at you as you messed with your already empty bottle.
You couldn’t help but to steal a few looks yourself. Your eyes wandering over his sharp features, the curve of his plump lips, how the stubble that covered his jaw seemed to make it look that much more defined.
His mesmerizing blue eyes focused on his blonde best friend who was talking and large hand wrapped loosely around the neck of his beer, tapping the glass gently to an unknown rhythm.
A smirk curled Bucky’s lips when he looked over to meet your gaze, leaning back further in the booth as his eyes drank you in. Thinking of how much he enjoyed watching you work as he let himself get sucked into a hole of filthy thoughts.
What your legs would feel like wrapped around his waist, hands clinging to his back as he drove into your cunt with every bit of the built up tension he had until you screamed out for him.
Both of you exchanged heated looks, Bucky starting to get his hopes up on what could possibly happen after the group left the bar.
Until Sam let something slip about a mess up that happened during the mission.
“That was not my fault.” You said in a stern tone. Bucky rolling his eyes at you.
“It kinda was.” He nodded, pressing his lips into a thin line as your eyes narrowed at him.
“If you would’ve been more careful it wouldn’t have happened to begin with.” You snapped, cocking your head to the side.
“Here we go.” Natasha sighed, letting her head fall back against the booth seat.
“I have a-”
You waved a hand at him dismissively. “Vibranium arm. Yeah, yeah, we get it, James. That doesn’t mean you can just run into the line of fire!” You said, getting more aggravated by the second.
“Me run into the line of fire?! You jumped in front of me!” He exclaimed, leaning forward as he scoffed.
“Saved your ass didn’t I?! You’re not bulletproof!” You huffed out an annoyed breath. “Next time I’ll just let you get hurt.”
“You wouldn’t do that, it’d haunt your little pea brain too much to let someone else get hurt again because of you.”
“You wanna talk about people getting hurt because of-”
“Okay,” Steve drug out the word as he silenced you with a hand clamped over your mouth. “That’s enough. Everything worked out, you two stop it.”
You shoved Steve’s hand off of your mouth and turned in your seat. “I’m done for the night. Let me out, Steve.”
“No, no. Stay out with us. We’re celebrating.” Wanda insisted, sitting a hand on top of your arm from across the table.
“There’ll be another night of celebrating. I just wanna go home. I’ll see you all at the compound.” You said, getting out of the booth when Steve stood up.
Not even a couple minutes down the sidewalk you could hear boots gritting against the concrete. Letting your head tip back as you sighed. “Stop following me, Barnes.”
“I’m not letting you walk home alone.” He grumbled, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets.
“Glad to see they chose you for the guard dog position. Suits you.” You snarked, hearing him get closer.
“What the hell is that suppose to mean?” He said trailing right behind you.
You breathed a dry laugh and shook your head. “Exactly what you think it does.”
Walking faster, Bucky caught your arm in his left hand to stop you. “What is your problem with me?” He huffed, eyebrows knitted together as you glared at him.
“Besides the fact that you’re an asshole?”
“I’ve done nothing to you.”
You rolled your eyes at him, jerking your arm from his grip and continuing down the sidewalk.
The bickering didn’t stop for the entire walk, your blood boiling by the time you unlocked your door. Bucky stepping into your room behind you.
“Must be easy blaming everything on Hydra, isn’t it? Having a scape goat for every shitty thing you did.” You knew it was a low blow, especially by the anger that flared in his eyes as he stepped closer.
“At least I have an excuse for my fuck ups, unlike you!” You shoved at his sturdy chest when the careless words tumbled from his lips, your own heaving from the mixture of anger and undeniable lust that coursed your body.
Bucky took another step forward, grabbing your face in cold and warm hands before smashing his lips into yours. Your hands going to shove him away but instead gripping the front of his shirt to pull him closer.
The sudden shift in atmosphere seemed to add fuel to the fire in your veins. Sharing breaths as teeth and tongues gnashed together, clumsy hands working at each other’s clothes before Bucky’s hand went to the top of your head to urge you to your knees. The only thing left between you and his throbbing erection being the thin fabric of his briefs as he shoved them down.
Your mouth watered as you held his thick shaft in your hand, taking him in your mouth with a muffled moan as his head tipped back in a groan. Metal hand fisted tightly in your hair to guide you at a pace he wanted.
Looking up at him through your eyelashes, you moaned at the view above you. Bucky’s jaw slack and eyes hooded, muscles of his chest and abdomen flexed to make him look like he’d been snatched from a magazine cover.
“I like you s’much better with your mouth full of my cock.” He panted, feeling himself twitch as he looked at the way you swallowed him to the base. Drool coating your chin as you looked up at him, grazing your teeth against the throbbing vein that ran on the underside of his cock to elicit a drawn out moan from him. “Don’ stop.”
He let out an annoyed groan when you stood up, grasping himself as you wiped the back of your hand to your mouth. “I said don’t stop.”
“Shut up.” You huffed out, hands pressing to his chest to urge him to the bed. Kicking your underwear off as he positioned himself with his shoulders against the headboard.
There was nothing sensual or intimate about it. Pure, carnal desire fueling you as you let yourself lose every bit of control. Rolling your hips against him at a feverish pace that made your thighs ache but everything else feel so overwhelmed with pleasure as wanton moans and profanities filled the thick air.
“C’mon, you can do better than that-“ Bucky choked out, grip on your hips tightening as your bounced on him. Too focused on how full you felt to listen to him.
His chest and face flush as raspy moans poured pass his bitten lips, a louder groan pulling from his throat when your nails dug crescent shapes into his taut chest.
“Fuck-” He grunted, so wrapped up in the shocks of pure bliss that shot through him to notice the pleasurable sting of his skin. Reaching a hand up to grasp the back of your head and pull you down for a messy kiss, right hand splayed against your shoulder blades as he swallowed your moans.
Bucky planted his feet flat against the mattress, left hand gripping your ass as he fucked up into you. Tip kissing your cervix with each harsh thrust as the blunt nails of his right hand dug into your shoulder.
Your head dropped to his shoulder to muffle the cries of pleasure as his teeth grazed your neck before biting down on the flesh. A yelp passing your lips as you sat up again, hands pressing to his chest.
He watched the way you stretched around him, roughly groping at your chest as his hips pistoned into you. Loud moans echoing off of the walls as your slick coated his base. “Pretty pussy ‘s takin’ all my fat cock, baby.”
You clasped a hand over his mouth to cut him off, letting your eyes close to bask in the feel of him sliding against sweet spots you hadn’t known to exist.
“I said shut up.” You said through stuttered breaths. Gasping when he suddenly lifted himself and your back hit the mattress, the new angle letting him fuck directly into a rough patch that made your eyes roll back. Hands searching for anything to grasp onto as your back arched off the mattress.
Metal fingers slipped into your mouth when you screamed out from the onslaught of pleasure, your lips absentmindedly locking around them as your whole body shook from the powerful thrusts Bucky delivered. Wracking your body with unmatchable bliss as he let guttural moans and feral growls spill freely into the thick air.
The building swirl in his abdomen only got worse when he looked over your fucked out form. Skin shiny with a thin layer of sweat, hands fisted in the disheveled sheets and whole body quaking as you released around him. Moaning against his fingers and legs tightening around his waist.
“Look at you- so stupid for my cock, you’ll do anything I say.” He removed his fingers from your mouth to tap your cheek lightly. “Open.”
You couldn’t help but listen, mind fuzzy from the overly sensitive feeling in your cunt as you opened your mouth. Bucky gathering saliva in his mouth before spitting it in yours, moaning when you swallowed it without a second thought.
“Jus’ needed me to stuff your pretty little cunt to shut you up.” He panted, trying to hold his orgasm off just a little longer.
“Sh-” you whimpered when his fingers dug into your cheeks, eyes opening to meet his lust filled ones. The feral look on his face making your cunt clamp around him again.
“Say that again and I’ll stop.” He growled through clenched teeth, a needy whine pulling from your throat as his body bent over yours more.
“Don’t stop- please,please,please, don’t stop-” you keened, that next mind shattering high so close that you could feel the second wave of heat start to spread.
“That’s right, baby. Fuckin’ beg for it.” Bucky moaned out, holding himself up on his forearms as he peered down at how his cock disappeared in your quivering walls with every rough snap of his hips.
The vice grip your silky walls had on him nearly pushed him over the edge as your nails raked down his back, your teeth digging into the skin of his shoulder when your body tensed again. Jerking slightly when his pace didn’t falter as your orgasm took over. Your vision whiting out and mind blanking before your body went lax against the plush mattress.
A gruff moan tore from Bucky’s throat as he coated your walls with his spend. Riding out the afterglow with short, hard thrusts until your shaky hands reached down to push against the taut muscles of his abdomen.
Body so overworked all you could do was whine when he slipped out. The empty feeling much more evident than you’d ever felt before as he collapsed next to you with a huffed out breath.
It felt like an eternity had passed when your body finally started to calm. Your racing heart and heaving breaths gradually slowing down as your hands searched for the blanket.
“Asshole…” you murmured when you saw that Bucky had turned onto his side and fell asleep. Managing to shift your sore form under the blanket so you could do the same.
You were woke up by the scratch of stubble against the skin of your neck, Bucky’s warm front pressed into your back as you shifted slightly. Wincing at the deep ache that had set in.
“M’sore.” You sighed when the rough pads of his fingers had traveled further down your abdomen.
“I’ll do the work.” He muttered against your skin, a smile slowly starting to spread on your face as you turned to your back.
“Hm, I like the sound of that.” You hummed, weaving your fingers in the short strands of his hair and pulling his lips to yours.
Carefully moving his body over yours and parting your thighs, Bucky reached between your bodies to guide himself into the warmth of your cunt. Groaning at the whimper that passed your lips when he slipped in, gently rocking his hips forward until he saw you wince.
“Sorry, darlin’. I won’t go all the way.” You nodded, his lips nipping at yours.
This time was far different than the events from the night before. Taking time to feel each other and drink in the softer sounds that left both of your lips.
No words being needed as he slowly worked you towards that high that you hadn’t felt before him.
“I’ve got you. Jus’ let go, sugar.” He soothed when you sucked in a sharp breath, chest pressing to his when your back arched.
“Bucky…” you breathed out, hands splayed on his firm back to feel the muscles ripple under his smooth skin with each roll of his hips.
“It’s okay, gorgeous. You feel so good.” He huffed, barely picking up the pace of his thrust to chase after his own high.
Your hand slipped down to grip the supple flesh of his ass, moaning against his mouth as his lips covered yours in a sensual kiss. Barely pushing deeper as he filled you with his release again.
Though, the soft moment was short lived when he slipped out of you. Bucky letting out a happy sigh as he stood from the bed, starting towards the bathroom off of your room.
“I’m going to shower.” He mumbled, knocking the door shut behind him.
Bucky twisted his back in attempt to bring some relief to his sore hips before stepping into the steaming shower. The water stinging parts of his chest and back as he tried to wash off as quickly as he could, finding a towel to wrap around his hips when he stepped out.
He sent you a wink as you pulled yourself from the bed with a huffed out sigh. “I’d say there’s coffee already made if you want me to get you some.” He offered, slipping his briefs on.
“I can get it myself.” You muttered, the bathroom door slamming when you walked in.
“Have it your way.” Bucky called out, jerking the door to your room open to go to the kitchen. The smell of freshly brewed coffee confirming what he’d said.
“Good to see you two didn’t kill each other while we were gone.” Steve droned, not looking up from a book he was reading at the counter.
“Mhm- what time you guys get in?” Bucky said leaning back against the counter with his coffee in hand.
“I-” Steve looked at him dumbfounded, the brunette lifting the mug to his lips before giving a lazy smile as you walked in. Freshly showered and wearing Bucky’s shirt from the night before.
“Mornin’.” He chirped as you poured your coffee, side eyeing him as you walked back towards the hallway.
“Don’t fucking talk to me.”
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