#dunno it just hit the right spot and i don't want to go back to Normal fanfic now :( | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

macfrog · 1 year

Text

jet

🎉 thank u guys so much for 1k followers 🎉 i don’t know how we got here but i love you all endlessly and can’t thank you enough for all the love n support. here’s some smutty joel to celebrate 🤩 this might become something, it might not. i dunno. wanted to try it out tho. lmk your thoughts ✨

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

summary: you and joel have an agreement: follow his movements, follow his orders, stay alive. what happens when, one night, he asks you to break the deal?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) post-outbreak!joel, pining i guess?? when don't i pine for this man, praise kink, light bondage, fingering, unprotected p in v sex (don't u dare), creampie, dom!joel, soft!joel, age gap (late 20s reader, late 40s joel), cursing, cute horsies

word count: 6.9k

main masterlist

Somewhere between Missouri and Illinois, last time you checked. Joel has the map, and you don’t bother asking him to see it much. You’ve been following the Mississippi north, on his orders, looking to hit St. Louis sometime tomorrow. Provided you don’t run into any trouble, that is.

It’s been three days with no safe refuge. Camping out in deserted houses with wood for windowpanes, stores infested with rats, office buildings with infected roaming. Joel figures the outskirts of the city are a good spot to stop for a couple nights, regain your strength, find supplies.

You’re a few paces ahead of him, only turning your head slightly when you notice an offramp, and looking back ahead when he doesn’t give any direction. You weave in and out of abandoned cars, hips swaying with the clipping of your horse’s hooves on broken asphalt, Joel’s horse in time at your heels.

You’d untethered the pair of them on a farm back in Nebraska. Joel had told you to stay put while he cleared the house, but you’d wandered over to the field when you spotted them. Timid, skittish, starving.

Five minutes hooked over the fence and they were both eating grass you’d pulled from the earth, right out of your hand. Joel’s heavy footsteps approaching had spooked them back a few steps, but you’d petted their muzzles and when he did the same, they soon warmed to him, too.

He’d jerked his head in a nod and muttered, “Good job,” before finding two saddles, strapping them on, and helping you onto the chestnut brown one – who you’d named Jet.

Joel had found tins of food in the farmhouse, and a switchblade for you to carry. He had a new stain on his shirt.

“Infected?” you asked.

He grunted in reply. Then rolled the tins into his backpack and hoisted himself onto his own horse, giving her reins a tug.

You knew that meant that yeah, there’d been infected inside. And recent, too, going by how well-kept the horses looked. It can’t have been longer than a week.

Joel’s silence as you both wandered down the farm track probably meant that there weren’t just adults in the house, either.

You’d glanced over to him, giving him a small smile. Bent over and reached for his horse’s ears, scratching where her soft black coat met her mane. The reins lay loose around Joel’s knuckles.

Protecting and providing for you was more important than some infected kids in a farmhouse. Joel had made that more than clear over the time you’d been with him. But somewhere, buried deep underneath years of fighting and killing, tucked away under a dusty flannel shirt, you knew his heart was hurting.

That was two weeks ago. Joel hasn’t talked about it, and you’re not interested in bringing it back up. Y’all got to the farm, took everything it had to offer, and you left.

Jet clicks her way along the highway somewhere south of the city. It’s still bright out; Joel reckons probably a few more hours of sunlight, so you know he’ll be scouting for places to camp out soon.

You lean back to stretch your spine, hand steadying yourself on Jet’s rump, her tail swishing as she walks. Her head bobs, looking from left to right, from the trucks with smashed windows sprouting moss, over to the trees losing leaves in the fall breeze.

It’s peaceful. Not much is, these days.

It’s quiet enough that Joel can listen for any sound of oncoming threat, and quiet enough that you can shut your eyes and pretend like you’re on some trail in the Texas country, on a warm summer evening; not exhausted, covered in dirt, weeks since you washed, days since you slept.

You’re humming gently to yourself, imagination taking you down by a creek where Joel pulls you by hand off the horse and you sit down to a picnic or something. He’d bring a basket. Maybe a bottle of wine, or a cheese board. Maybe he lays you back and kisses you on the blanket. Maybe his hand starts to wander up your thigh, skirt ruffling as he goes…

“Not much out here, is there?”

His voice startles you, bursting the seams of your daydream. He isn’t much of a talker, not unless you start it. You sit up straight and give your head a shake, as if dislodging the fantasy from your mind.

You twist around to look at his face; squinting under the bright white sky. Tired, same as you, lined, flecked with years and sun and survival.

“Hm?” he asks when you still don’t reply.

“Not a lot,” you finally say, clearing your throat and turning back to the road.

Finding the horses isn’t the only thing that’d happened two weeks ago.

Joel hadn’t wanted to camp in the farmhouse, hadn’t wanted to have to shift the bodies. Too much effort, or too much for you to see, maybe. You’d protested, heart set on a night’s sleep in an actual bed, but he hadn’t budged.

And you knew not to push him.

The sun was setting, though, so Joel led you down a dirt track toward a barn and burst the padlock. He tied the horses up just inside the door, used bundled up hay as a makeshift mattress upon which he laid out a blanket for you.

He barricaded the door as you lay back, did a walkaround of the place just in case any infected – or worse – were waiting to surprise y’all, and then sat down next to you.

Your head by his thigh, you put a hand on his knee.

“You can lie down, too, y’know.”

He grunted in response, breathing deep and steady.

“Joel.”

You took his shoulder and tried to pull him down to you, but the man is stronger than anyone you’ve ever met, even in his late forties, and you were convinced he’d only pretended to be yanked toward you so as not to hurt your feelings too much.

He remained upright. “Just want to keep watch for a while.”

Joel’s like this when you’re on the road. He’s cautious. On high alert. Always watching ahead, always listening out for whatever he thinks he might hear in the distance. Sometimes you can say something to him and have to give his leg a kick for him to answer you.

You’d sighed and pushed yourself up to lean your bicep against his. He furrowed his brows and scanned you from your jeans to your jaw.

“If you’re up, I’m up,” you told him.

“You need sleep,” he replied flatly.

You shrugged. “So do you.”

“What good is both of us tired?”

You sighed again and shook your head. You weren’t gonna argue with him.

Good thing he didn’t feel much like arguing, either. Ten minutes later he was on top of you, jeans loose on his thighs, head buried in your shoulder, fucking you senseless. Grunting and groaning into your skin.

You’d scored marks into his shoulder blades with your nails that you’re sure, if you peeled back his shirt right now, would still be there.

It’d tired you both out enough that Joel settled with your head on his chest, his hand in your hair, eyes trained on the barn doors. You don’t know if he slept a wink. You never know if he sleeps these days.

Joel hears the hoarseness of your voice and knows that you’re tired, ‘cause he clicks to his horse and she trots up alongside you and Jet. He pulls the map from his backpack. You tilt your head to take a look.

“Keep ridin’ for another hour,” he mumbles. “’m sure we’ll find somewhere soon. Looks like we’re still a little way out of St. Louis.”

You nod, rolling your head back. The cloudy sky burns your corneas as you watch a bird fly overhead. Joel slips the map back into his bag and you feel his hand on your thigh.

“You okay?”

“Mhm. Tired,” you whisper.

“Only a little while longer.” He gives your leg a small squeeze and his hand returns to the reins. He doesn’t fall back, instead, stays ambling along by your side. It feels like company. Feels nice. Feels…normal.

Two weeks is a long fucking time. Especially when your adrenaline peaks on the regular, sometimes multiple times in one day, and you’re alone with Joel all day and all night. Trusting each other, relying on each other. Saving each other time and time again. It was only natural that you began to rely on each other for…more than just survival.

You can’t remember when you found him. It was in the QZ, back when you believed in stability and structure. When you believed in people. Now, the only thing you believed in was Joel. Broken, hurt, shut-off Joel, who’d grumbled an apology when his shoulder brushed yours in the hallway and changed everything.

You like to think you were something new to him, something different. A challenge, maybe. Something worth holding onto, anyway, for reasons he was yet to let you in on.

He had an apartment of his own, with a bed of his own, which was something you weren’t used to. You shared a cramped apartment with Luce, a single mom with a two-year-old. Joel’s was where you went when the tantrums, the screaming in the middle of the night, the ration cards being destroyed either by ripping, by eating, or else by other means, became too suffocating.

Joel didn’t believe in anything or anyone, either. That’s what kept you coming back.

He’d just open his door and step aside to let you in. Barely a word. He’d ask if you’d eaten, and share his plate with you either way. Wordlessly picking away at the same food, making sure you got the last spoonful of soup, the last strip of jerky.

Most nights he’d fuck you until your mind went blank, nothing but the smell of him, feel of him, sound of him. No talking, no kissing, no touching. Just the sound of the bed springs, Joel’s soft groans as he bottomed out inside you. The feel of his hot skin, hips rubbing against the inside of your thighs. The bare, cracked brick walls of his apartment would fade away with each thrust, and then slowly seep back in when your orgasm began to wash away.

You knew it was time-wasting, for both of you. Scratching an itch. But some nights, it felt like more. The nights when he’d be so caught up in what he was doing, so caught up in you, that he’d forget to pull out. The nights his hips would snap messily and suddenly he was spilling inside of you, a deep groan humming against your skin between his teeth.

He wouldn’t care to ask, and you wouldn’t offer the information for free, but you remember every fucking time he did it. Where it’d happened, the position he had you in, how long it took for him to finally peel his body off of yours.

And afterwards, he’d let you sleep with your head on his chest. Let you play with his fingers. Let you talk to him; let you ask questions.

Didn’t mean he answered all of them. Didn’t even mean he answered much. Some, he’d give away more openly than others, but you soon got used to clocking when he was keeping a secret. Make a mental note of it, remember to chip away at it.

He trusted you, though; you knew that. Knew it by the way his fingers knotted safely in your hair, the way he’d lie naked with you until the sun came up. The way his breathing would slow, the way he’d mumble in his sleep.

You never talked to him about the incoherent words he’d breathe – but you could piece them together well enough to understand him better than his waken self would ever reveal.

When you brought up leaving, one rainy night weeks ago, he thought about it maybe twice over. Asked how he was supposed to keep you safe.

You do that already, you told him.

‘s different outside. You don’t understand.

It can’t be any worse than in here.

You’d taken a step forward, and he’d flinched, but allowed you to take his strong jaw in your hands. You tried to form a sentence, and when your throat closed up, eyes flitting between his, he took your wrists and lowered them. The shadow of a rain-spattered window doused in a sickly amber glow across his face.

You’d wanted to kiss him. And had he left your hands where they were just a few seconds longer, you think you might’ve. Joel saw it in your eyes, and stopped it.

Whatever. It had still convinced him. He packed his bag and you snuck down the fire escape the following night. Joel’s fingers were hooked around your belt loop the entire time, keeping your hip in stride with his all the way until you were at least a hundred feet away from the QZ wall.

His other concern was his age. Why someone like you would want to run away with someone like him. Forty-something, graying, past his peak. He has, like, twenty years on you. Once he made some reference about Bruce Springsteen and, when your face blanked, he sighed and took the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

I know who Bruce Springsteen is, asshole, you’d said, just didn’t get that reference.

He’d shaken his head and given you a sly, twisted smirk, then pushed you out the door of the apartment block you guys were searching.

Still, despite the years between you, you have one major thing in common.

You’re both good at getting each other…there.

Joel knows exactly what to do to make you tick. You know exactly how to push him until he does it. It’s in the way you look at him, the way you touch him. Things you say that make his stony eyes flit once down your body, and then you know you’re in.

It’s a little harder to do while on horseback, you gotta admit. The best you can do is look at him, say a sentence or two laced with want and need. Hope that he reads through the lines.

It’s worked a few times, when Joel’s suddenly found a shed or basement you can camp out in and then made it difficult for you to walk for the next couple days.

Right now, you feel too tired to even bat your eyelashes at him, never mind coming up with lines to turn him on. You’ve been on the highway for a few hours by this point, little sign of shelter anywhere nearby. Joel holds his hand out and you bring your horses to a stop in view of a hospital a couple miles ahead.

“That’s gotta be teemin’ with them,” you say, looking over to study his expression.

“Hm,” Joel agrees, and glances to the right.

“What you thinkin’? Sun’s getting lower.”

He takes a deep breath, pulls on the reins. “Know somewhere nearby.”

He heads off the highway with a click of his teeth, and you follow. You shut your eyes, chin burying beneath the collar of your shirt. You’d kinda hoped that he’d offer to clear even a small part of the hospital for you to rest up, maybe more, but you trust him enough to lead you somewhere safer, somewhere quieter.

That trust begins to wear thin, though, when the sun disappears behind the trees, drowning you guys in a low dusk, and the temperature begins to fall. Joel’s using what’s left of the gray light to guide him, slowing down to take a hold of Jet’s reins and line her up with his own horse.

“I thought you said an hour,” you mumble, grip becoming slack on the leather.

“Changed my mind,” he replies. “Almost there.”

Your eyes start to roll with exhaustion, hips aching from the position you’ve been sat in for hours now. It’s not until you notice the silhouette of a tall sign in the clearing, black against the fading purple sky, that you blink yourself awake.

Joel pulls you and Jet off the road to a deserted parking lot, shadowed by a motel. He slows the horses down, listening for any signs of life, leading them to the side of the building.

“Easy,” he whispers, pulling on the reins. Both animals come to a halt.

He slides off the saddle, hitting the ground with a thud. He takes your hands, pulling you down to him, and you glance around.

“Stay here,” he tells you, and you don’t have the energy to argue back.

He makes off, pulling his gun from his holster. You stand with a hand on each horse’s muzzle, gently petting. Joel’s gone for a decent amount of time, his silhouette slowly sneaking in and out of every room, spending a couple minutes in each before he clears it.

He returns with a box of pills, some gauze, and a bottle of water, which he hands to you. You take a long swig and pass it back, and he does the same.

“What will we do with Jet ‘n…?”

“Huh?” he asks, replacing the cap on the half-empty bottle.

“What’s your horse called?”

“She ain’t got a name.”

You tsk. “Bad owner.”

“We ain’t their owners.”

“Mine’s is Jet. Pick a name.”

Joel sighs and shakes his head, but you know he’s gonna spend all night thinking up some name to go with yours. “We’ll tie ‘em up out here.”

“What if something happens to them?”

“Well,” he says, leading them toward the shelter, “if somethin’ happens to them, it only means it’s about thirty seconds away from happenin’ to us.”

He jerks his head toward the first room as he ties them up, and you know the conversation is over.

You wander into the small, dingy room, pulling your jacket from your shoulders. It smells of damp, the wallpaper’s peeling off the wall above the bed. The sheets are in disarray, a little dusty, but they look clean enough. The bathroom walls are covered in grime. Drawers empty, closet doors missing, entire place ransacked.

It’s as good as you get, these days. At least it has a solid roof.

Joel settles the horses and closes the door gently behind himself. You’re already tugging your boots off, sat at the foot of the bed.

He rests his gun on the nightstand and straightens up, stretching his back with a quiet groan.

“’s cozy,” you offer, and he nods.

“Better ‘n risking that hospital.”

The bedsprings creak when you shimmy up the mattress, resting your back against the hardwood headboard. It ain’t the most comfortable, but then it’s not meant to be, is it? It’s only meant to be safe, which Joel’s made sure of.

He stands at the bottom of the bed, watching you as you bounce up and down a couple times, laughing quietly at the sound of the springs beneath you. His expression clouds over under low brows.

“Y’okay?” you ask, tilting your head.

He nods again. Eyes flitting up and down, from your face to your neck, back up, and then lower still. Your chest. Your stomach. Your legs. You feel your heartbeat quicken when he takes a step forward.

“Just had to find somewhere better.”

“Better?” You smile. “Have you seen the world, Miller?”

He leans his knee against the foot of the bed. His brown eyes darken even more, and his jaw tenses.

“Had to find somewhere better,” he mutters, “so I could fuck you in peace.”

Your breath catches. You stare from his lips back up to his eyes. His fists are balled tight. His chest heaves with steady panting. There’s something flickering in the depths of those warm eyes; an ember, drawing you in. Tantalizing you.

You sit forward, pushing onto all fours, and crawl down the groaning bed to him, rising onto your knees when your hands meet his shirt. Your chest against his stomach, you look up into his eyes.

His rough hands knot in your hair and he pulls down, yanking your head back and your chin up to him. He studies your face, outlined in the moonlight seeping through the window. Then he lowers his jaw and lines his lips against yours.

“That what you want?” he hums against your mouth. You swallow his words – they claw at your throat as they go.

“Uhuh,” you breathe back, trying to connect your lips. He doesn’t allow you; steadily dodges your jaw like you’re a pair of negative magnets, repelling off one another. You moan.

“Needy girl,” Joel whispers. “Two weeks too long for you?”

“Mhm.”

You’re not tired anymore. You’re fucking desperate. You feel your cunt dripping, seeping through your underwear, worsened when Joel’s hand reaches down between your legs and cups you through your jeans.

You gasp and grab his arms to steady yourself.

“Tell me what you want,” he says, hand tensing around your core.

Your lip trembles as you watch the way his mouth moves, how he shapes the words. His teeth locked between soft lips, dappled with brown hair, ends singed gray. The way he almost spits the words.

Your chest meets his torso when you breathe in, a deep, shaky breath. Joel notices; the corners of his mouth twitch, holding back a smile.

“Want you to…want you…”

He doesn’t wait for you to finish your sentence. He pushes you back and falls on top of you, strong body pinning you against the mattress, hand still clamped to your crotch.

His head dips to your neck where he bites, scratches and sucks, mumbling against your hot skin, “Tell me, baby. Use your words.”

Your head begins to swim, body starts pulsing with electricity. Baby. Joel’s pet names are limited to one thing. One activity.

“Want you to f– fuck, Joel – fuck me.” Fuck me fuck me fuck me.

His hand begins wrestling with the button of your jeans. Thick fingers fumbling with your zipper, taking your waistband with both hands and hauling it down. The force of it pulls you down the mattress too, squealing as Joel rips the denim from your legs. You lower your hands to help him, but once they’re tossed to the floor, he bats you away.

He’s shaking his head, tsking, then takes both your wrists in one of his huge hands. Fingers twisted around your delicate skin, pinning them above your head. The bed sighs around you when he pushes your hands into the mattress. Your back arches, your chest rising to meet his.

Your legs part, knees settling either side of his waist. Of course they do. It’s what you know now. It’s basic fucking instinct at this point.

His free hand returns to cup your sex, feeling how wet you are through your now soaked underwear.

“Baby,” he coos, “this all for me?”

You nod a little too eagerly, not that you’re present enough to care. But it beckons a smug smile from Joel, who begins sliding your panties down your thighs.

Your hips lift to let him drag the fabric down, biting your lip, not willing to wait another fucking second for him. Lace meets denim on the torn-up floor, and you sigh, settling back against the rusty bedsprings and mottled sheets.

Joel’s free hand ghosts from your wrist down to your elbow, teetering along the sleeve of your t-shirt over to the collar, where he pulls it so far down into the valley between your breasts that a small noise passes your lips.

“Hm?” he asks, fingers pausing against your breastbone.

“’s my only shirt. Don’t…”

He kisses his teeth. His gaze never lifts from your heaving chest, skin damp with sweat right underneath his fingers. You can see him tossing it over in his head. What he wants to do, versus what he probably shouldn’t.

He blinks. Decision made.

“Give you one of mine,” he growls, and hooks his fingers, dragging the fabric of your shirt lower and lower until the collar tears open and it’s another scrap lost to the motel room floor.

And then there you are, naked and writhing underneath him. He’s still in his dusty flannel. There’s sweat lining his forehead. He holds himself over you, hovering, taking every inch of you in and storing it behind his eyes.

You jerk your hands, trying to break free just to touch him, feel him, but he pulls away again, tutting.

“No, pretty girl,” Joel coos, “gonna take my time with ya.”

You moan in protest, still wriggling under his body. His grip on your wrists doesn’t loosen, not even when his free hand dips to undo his belt. The cold metal kisses your naked thighs when he pulls it through his jeans; the leather drags up your torso and across your face as he lifts it.

He takes your hands individually, careful and yet rough, urgent, and slots them between the slats of the headboard. Your head turns up to watch what he’s doing. The silver of his belt buckle knocks against the wood as he slips it under your wrists, feeding it between your skin and the mattress, wrapping it around the slat between your hands.

Then he slips the belt through the buckle, and pulls. Tight. Your hands come together, wrists kissing, the leather burning your skin the tighter he pulls. You whine, head rolling back to meet his gaze, fixed on yours.

“Since you don’t wanna listen.”

The drip in his voice, sweet like honey, smooth as whiskey, forces your legs open wider. Joel smirks, pushing himself down the mattress and out of your view.

Staring up at the gray ceiling, you’re left just to feel him. Feel him as his palms splay out on your knees, pushing them into the bed. Feel his stubble graze the inside of your thigh as he drags his tongue up, leaving a trail of wet behind.

Feel when he breathes a whisper across your aching cunt, something you can’t hear over the ruffling of sheets around your head as you toss around. And feel when his fingers part your lips, opening you up wide for him to really fucking see.

“Fuck, baby,” he says, and you find the strength to lift your head to watch. He’s leant over you, one arm hooked around your left thigh, holding it open, the other fucking…playing with you. Like you’re some fancy gadget. Like you’re brand new to him.

“So,” he runs two fingers from your clit through your folds, “fuckin’,” lines them up at your entrance, “pretty – for me.”

He pushes up into you, and your head hits the pillow with a stifled groan. You’re panting through your teeth, back arching the deeper he goes, stretching you out and rocking waves of sparkling heat through you. Waves that hit the other end of your stomach and come rippling back, throbbing around his thick fingers.

His arm bears down on your thigh, forcing your legs wide open for him. His hand cups your clit and you buck your hips, rutting against the base of his palm. Joel laughs softly.

“Patience, darlin’. Don’t want it to be over ‘fore it’s even started.”

Your head rocks back and forth, eyes tight shut. It’s all you can fucking do, tied tight to the bed. Joel pumps his fingers in and out of you, adding a third when you’re wet enough, thumb never leaving your clit.

You can feel your orgasm brewing in your stomach. Feel the tension between your hips. You’re chasing it, eyes shut, focusing only on Joel’s hand fucking in and out, in and out. You’re coming close, body pushing into the mattress, legs widening even more to let him slip a fourth finger inside you.

“Feel good?” he asks, almost with a laugh. There’s a smirk painted across his lips, you know it, even though you can’t find the energy to open your eyes.

You whimper in response, some small, muffled sound roughly shaped like yeah.

“Yeah,” Joel agrees, and his wrist flicks harder.

You moan every time his fingertips kiss the edge of your cunt, pushing against the soft walls. You moan when he drags them out, leaving you empty. Again, when he pushes them back in, rough and fast. And then when he lowers his lips to your ear and tells you how good you’re being, how pretty you look, how hard he’s gonna…

It’s like he changes his mind in an instant.

Withdraws his hand, slick-covered and still hooked. Pulls it away as quickly as he pulls your orgasm from your body. It drains from you; reduces back to an ache you can’t reach.

Joel slips his fingers between his lips as he readjusts himself, repositioning on the squealing mattress. Sucks them clean as casually as he would at a cookout or something, then takes your hips in both hands and straightens you up.

His jeans are tugged down barely past his ass. He’s not prepared to waste any time ripping his own clothes off like he did yours. Just leans forward, pulls his solid cock from his boxershorts, and spits into his hand.

You watch through eyes glazed with lust as he strokes himself a couple times, eyes always on your swollen cunt, groaning as his spit coats his shaft. Then he lowers himself to you and does the same, only running his length through your folds.

You whine, feeling that familiar thickness separate you so close to where you need him, and yet so fucking far.

“Joel…” you whisper, but he’s not listening.

Transfixed on the sight of his cock moving against your soaked cunt. Listening to the sweet, wet sounds the pair of you make. His tip catches on your entrance a couple times and you gasp. Just fucking do it already.

“Fuck,” Joel growls under his breath, and then…

It’s been months. Might even be years. But the feeling of him pushing inside you for the first time is still the same. Every. Fucking. Time. He’s bigger, thicker than anyone you’ve ever slept with before. And he knows it, because every single time, he glides into you without hesitation. No time for you to adjust. Just fills you up straight away, lets you deal with it later.

He’s cocky like that. Too careful when you’re on the road, and too careless when you’re between the sheets. Not that you’re fuckin’ complaining.

Your mouth falls open in a choked moan. Your lungs are gasping for air. Joel’s all you can feel.

Your elbows lift into the air, arms desperate to break free just to grab onto him, ground yourself, feel him close against you. Your wrists lock against the hardwood, leather digging into your skin as punishment for trying to break free. You’re stuck; nothing but the overwhelming feeling of him between your legs, filling you up and leaving you empty over and over again.

“Good girl,” he’s panting, still watching where his cock lines up with your cunt, and then disappears inside.

He leans down and his lips find home on your shoulder, sucking sweet marks into the skin like he always does. His tip bumps against your cervix, jolts of sensitivity pushing through you each time he bottoms out causing you to whine into his flannel.

“Fuck, Joel.”

“I know, I know. I got you. I’ll get you there again, baby.”

You had a routine. Follow his movements, follow his orders, stay alive. Deviate slightly from that routine, even for a minute, and you threw the whole agreement into jeopardy. One misstep on a crowded street dotted with cars once had a sniper open firing at you both for nearly two hours until Joel found him and put a bullet between his eyes. That time your curiosity got the better of you and Joel almost lost a hand stopping you from walking down an alleyway and straight into a wire trap.

Repeat it, Joel had said that night. Crouched by his apartment window, rain battering off the glass. Hands on the frame, ready to hoist it up and let you slip out any second. Repeat. It.

Do as you say, you whispered back. And only then did he pull the sash.

This is not the fucking routine. This is not the agreement. You fucked, of course you did. But that’s all it ever was. Hungry, touch-starved, desperate sex. Bored sex. We-almost-died-today sex. Not this.

Not: clear an entire motel just so nothing within a two-mile radius gets to hear you fuck me senseless. Strip me down, tie me up, push me to the edge with your hands, but don’t let me go without you. Curl your lips around my ear while you’re buried inside me and whisper praises. Whisper baby. Whisper…anything you like. Anything you wouldn’t say when the sun’s up.

This feels like it means something. To both of you. Feels like Joel’s looking for something in you, asking something of you. And you want to give it to him, whatever it is.

And maybe that’s the point.

He’s proving that he could make you do fucking anything. Let him tie you to a bedframe, push you close enough to the edge that you can feel the pressure of release beckoning you forward like the wind circling your ankles.

And you’re proving that you’ll do it. You’ll do what he says. Follow him to the edge, refuse to jump. Pull his body into yours, make it feel like home for a night.

He’s proving that he’ll take care of you, and you’re proving that you’ll let him.

Your wrists are burning. Leather digging marks, searing skin, then rubbing over it again and again to cut it deeper. It’s starting to hurt, if you’re honest with yourself. Your face probably gives it away.

Probably, possibly. Definitely.

Joel notices you quieten and lifts his head from the crook of your neck. Studies your face for a fraction of a second and knows.

“Hey,” he says, reaching up. He loosens the belt with one hand whilst still deep inside you, hips thrusting slowly just as a place marker.

When your hands slip free, Joel’s clasp gently around your wrist, fingers delicate over the sensitive, reddened skin. His eyes almost glisten at the sight.

“Baby…” he whispers.

“’s okay,” you reassure him, loosening his grasp on you and settling your shaky hands on his jaw. “I’m okay. Liked it.”

Joel lowers his forehead against yours and picks his pace up again, and you moan into the space between your lips. Your legs lift higher, knees bumping against his shoulders. His hips snap into yours, his jeans rutting against the inside of your thighs, the bed creaking with each messy thrust.

“Close, baby,” his voice vibrates against your lips.

“Yeah,” you whine, chest pushing against his. “Fuck. Right there. Fuck.”

Your arm drapes over his shoulder blades, nails dig into the rough cotton of his shirt. Your left hand is still at his jaw, fingers caressing his cheek. Joined together at your hips and your brows, gaze never really meeting for longer than a second, but still. You’re right there. Joel – he’s right there.

It’s new, it’s intimate. It’s almost…sweet.

“Gonna cum with me?” he asks, sincerely. He’s not trying to coax it out of you. He’s checking that you want to fall over the edge. Not for him, not because of him, but with him.

You nod and he returns it, sweat sticking his dark hair to his forehead.

With his eyes on you, flitting between your parted lips and your batting eyelashes, too scared to settle on either place for too long, he lifts your hips and fucks into you fast. Deep. Fucking – hard. Skin slapping against yours, breath hot and tangling with yours between your lips.

The pressure between your hips begins to build again, rapidly, Joel adding to it with every movement. Every push of his thick cock against your walls only draws them in tighter, closing around him, holding him closer to you with each moan escaping both your lips.

“Darlin’…” he murmurs in a broken voice, and you know. He’s starting to falter. Thrusts weakening.

“’m there too,” you reply, gasping for breath.

“Let me – feel you,” he says, “pretty girl.”

Maybe it’s the fact you don’t normally talk. Maybe the fact he never touches you the way he has tonight. Maybe it’s him wanting you to cum first, before he will.

Or maybe it’s pretty girl, that finally sends you over.

You look so good to him. You’re being so good for him. ‘n he can’t help it, has to let you know. Has to let every thought that passes through his head slip out past his tongue.

Pulling his chest flat against yours, you throw your head back to the pillow with a moan so filthy, so guttural that you’d be surprised if you don’t have company in five minutes.

Joel’s at your heels, face buried between your breasts, groaning into your chest as his cock twitches deep inside you and you feel him fill you up.

Your orgasm’s still knocking you senseless, every nerve in your body electrified. You’re holding Joel tight to your body, his ear flat to your chest, and you know he can hear your heartbeat. Know he’s listening to it throwing punches from behind your ribcage.

He’s still groaning through his breaths, heavy and thick with his release. Cock still deep inside you, still, softening. You lay like that for…well, you’ve no idea how long. But after a bit, Joel pulls himself up off of you and wanders into the bathroom.

You sit up on your elbows, taking deep, steady breaths, and let the stars in your vision dissipate. Joel emerges a couple minutes later and finally tugs his jeans down. He lifts both his shirt and the tee underneath off in one motion, tossing them onto the sideboard, then slips back under the covers, wordlessly hooking a hand around your upper arm and pulling you down onto his chest.

Your legs intertwine with his. There’s cum seeping out of you onto his thigh. Both of you, mixed up as one. His fingers sift through your hair, doing little to untangle it but trying all the same. His breathing in time with yours, his lips pressed safely to the crown of your head.

Before you know it, you’re sleeping.

Dawn breaks early. Too early. You’re still tangled up in Joel, feeling his chest rise and fall. Listening to his heartbeat – slow, calm. The drapes – not that there’s much left of them – are too thin to stop any light from flooding in. It’s only a matter of time before he wakes up.

The rough sheets sting against your wrists – red marks scoring them where Joel’s belt had been. You wince, running light fingers over the grazes, hissing at your fingertips as they go.

It hurts way less than it thrills you. This little reminder of what you did last night. What Joel did. The pain subsides the longer you touch the scars, knitted brows melting into a smile.

You slowly lift your head, propping yourself up on your elbow. Just watching him. The dust in the room frames him in a sea of white glitter, the slow-emerging sun lights across his face and dips where the scar on his nose sits.

His arms are still around your waist, cradling you. Holding you to him. You know he’s stirring when they tighten, and then fall loose. Façade back up. Walls slowly rebuilding.

You dress yourselves in silence. Run out of words to say. There ain’t nothing to say – nothing that wasn’t said last night. Joel sinks into the mattress beside you to tie his laces, and your arms brush against one another a couple times. It’s like fire on ice.

He’s first to leave the room. Just pulls his jeans over his boots and stands, unlocks the door and lets the light flood in. You check once over for anything left behind, and slip out. The air is cool, twilight still slowly washing away. You sling your jacket over Jet’s back and pull yourself up.

Joel’s t-shirt is loose over your shoulders. He gave you a fresh one from his bag. It smells like him, but you don’t let him see when you bury your nose into it to breathe him in. The hem bunches up over the top of your thighs once you’re sat on the horse.

His eyes scan down you once, surveying you in hisshirt. Then he swerves off back toward the road, silhouette cutting between the rays of sun streaming between the pine trees.

“Ghost,” he tosses over his shoulder.

“Huh?” You click to Jet to follow.

“Horse’s name. Ghost.”

“How come?” you ask when you’re side by side with him.

He shrugs, upper lip turning. “When it’s dark, you can’t hardly see her. She’s like a ghost.”

Joel’s hand surfs gently across Ghost’s mane, fingers scratching her shining coat. Your bodies rock in time with the sway of the horses’ walking. The echo of their hooves on the asphalt masks the silence for a few moments.

“Alright,” you eventually accept, turning away to watch the sun lift above the prickly treetops.

And to hide the smile tugging on your lips.

----------

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littlegodzilla · 9 months

Text

Well I heard someone might be a little down in the dumps today. It's been a while since I've posted anything here, but I wanted to do a little something to make you feel better.

I hope you like it

************

I can try.

Daryl Dixon x Fem Reader.

One shot.

@celtic-crossbow birthday present.

Warnings: M. Friends to lovers. Smut.

Words: 10k.

Summary: You and Daryl are good friends, but sometimes is good to try new things.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"No. Stop... wait..." You gasp with a frown. "Stop, stop."

"What's wrong?"

"That I can't... I can't."

"What?"

"It's not going to work...I'm going home." You push his hands away from you, getting up from the bed, reaching for your clothes.

"But what's wrong with you? I thought you..."

"Yes, I wanted to, but you've been looking for my spot for fifteen minutes... it's not going to go well, I'd better go." You shake your head getting dressed.

"But don't leave me like this! At least let me finish."

"Use your hands, like I'm going to do when I get home." You tell him and quickly leave the room.

"You're such a bitch!"

You hurry out of the house, adjusting your jacket to your body, the weather is still nice, but the nights are starting to get cold. Your feet move fast towards home, you want to get home as soon as possible and get into bed, you'd even like to disappear if possible.

Things have changed. A lot if you stop to think about it. Alexandria has changed for a few years now, after the Wolves, the hordes of Walkers, The Whisperers and some Communities that tried to take over yours, but finally Alexandria is safe and you all live in tranquility, or at least what this new world allows you. Since then, since you have settled there, you have allowed yourself to free yourself a little, of course there will always be guards to keep, to go out for supplies, to fight, but when all is quiet, you allow yourself to be who you were before. You spend days on the porch or in the garden, reading, watching the clouds move, you help in the fields, with the animals, you teach the children, who are more and more in the community. You have boyfriends. You have sex, arguments, breakups. It almost feels like your old life, but something is not right now.

You have been dating Nathan for a few months now, thanks to Deanna you have a new calendar and the days don't go on forever. You've been going out with him for a while now, he's nice, you get along well, you have fun... but in bed you don't quite click. It's frustrating and a bit embarrassing, you've been running away like a rat, but you'd rather cut the relationship before things get even more strained.

You get home. You're going to spend a few days at Rick and Michonne's house, the last storm that hit Alexandria washed away part of the roof of your house, now you entertain yourself in the morning to fix it with the help of other colleagues, but you still have for a few days. You close the door with some violence, your anger coming out.

"Dun be so noisy. There’re children sleepin’." You hear a voice in the darkness.

"Fuck, Daryl!" you jump, holding a hand to your chest. "What the fuck are you doing in the dark?"

"I've just come up now." He says turning on a small light in the dining room. "Rick and I are gonna out fer few days."

"Well turn on the light, you could kill someone with a heart attack." You growl, looking sideways at him, he shakes his head.

"Sorry." He apologizes, you can feel his gaze running up and down you, making you nervous. "Bad night?"

"Frustrating." You reply in a curt tone, making it clear you don't want to talk about it. "Where are you going?" You'd rather change the subject. You know Rick doesn't get out of the community much since RJ was born helping Michonne with whatever she needs.

"Dunno. Not too far. Maybe a couple of days, no more than a week." he answers your question, shaking out his backpack a bit, rearranging the things inside. "Back Rick wants to go to Hiltop, need anythin’ from there?" he wants to know, you stand for a moment thoughtfully and gesture to him.

"Wait." You nod and trying not to make any noise, you go up to your room, coming down shortly after. "Here, give it to Maggie, please." You hand him a small letter. He looks at it, but nods, tucking it into his vest pocket. "Thank you. Have a safe trip and be safe." You ask.

"A'right. Night."

"Good night." You whisper looking at him again and go up to your room.

You've been traveling with Rick's group since they showed up by the Greene farm where you too had taken refuge after your parents were bitten and Hershel locked them in the barn. Your first impression with Rick Grimes' group was rough and wild, but you will never regret following him after that, thanks to him you had a real home in the prison, thanks to him you were still alive, thanks to him you now have this community, you are safe and happy. They are your family now and you know you can trust them, Maggie, Tara, Michonne, Rosita, they are your friends you can vent to, Carol sometimes acts more like a mother and that's not much older than you, but it's her instinct above all else. Carl and Sophia are little siblings to all of you, as are Judith and RJ.

You lie in bed, curling up, feeling your body pulse, the heat coursing under your skin, but you ignore it, your head dull, the anger still lingering. You close your eyes and try to sleep.

"Good morning." Michonne greets you that morning, carrying little RJ in her arms.

"Good morning." You greet her by putting the coffee pot on the stove for breakfast the two of you. "Hey, shorty." You touch his nose and smile looking at Michonne out of the corner of your eye. "Quiet night?"

"Until Rick left...I think he feels it, he's been restless after that." She tells you, tucking the child into her arms.

"Daryl told me it wouldn't be many days, they'll stop by Hiltop when they get back." You tell her, she nods and sighs.

"Sometimes I miss getting out and exploring the world."

"Me too, you can leave the little one with Rosita or Carol, for a few hours I don't think they'll mind."

"I know, but now I have the constant fear of... not coming back." She whispers and you look at her pityingly.

"Hey that's not going to happen, you're our samurai, no one can take you." You joke and she laughs low, chuckling. "Sit down, I've made breakfast."

"Thanks. If you keep this up I don't know if I'll let you go home." She jokes too. "Speaking of which, you came early last night, usually when you meet Nathan..."

"Yeah, well... we broke up..."

"Broke up? Why, what happened?" she sets RJ down in his highchair accepting the coffee you hand him.

"It wasn't working... we didn't quite click..." You explain on top of it, but start to explain more when she prods you a little.

"You know Nathan is going to get hysterical, they're going to say a lot of bullshit..."

"I don't care, at the end of the day I took off leaving him halfway through." You shrug your shoulders as you braid your hair into a braid.

"If you see him get too nervous, we can get him to shut up."

"Don't worry, Michonne, I'll manage."

After breakfast, you leave the Rick family's house, to go to work in the fields and with the animals, that afternoon you have guard duty too, it's going to be a long day, but at least it will help you to keep your head busy.

The whispers, gossip and looks soon spread through the community. Nathan, completely pissed off with you, goes out of his way to make it clear to every man in Alexandria that you are a slut. You try not to make a big deal out of it, but two weeks have passed and your neediness continues to grow and no one pays any attention to you, which makes the situation more frustrating

Daryl and Rick have been back from patrol for a week now, they've brought some people with them, they've made new deals with other communities that are starting to expand, they've even brought more supplies. They are at the bar that opened a year ago having a home brew, it's not great, but it's drinkable. Abraham, Eugene and Glenn are with them.

"We're expanding the southern part of the community." Rick explains to Glenn since he hasn't been around for a while. "We're opening up the walls bit by bit, keeping an eye on the hordes of Walkers and slowly moving the houses out of the compound."

"That's a good idea, we're expanding the farming area too, there are more and more of us and the houses are getting too small."

"If ya guys need help with construction we can form a posse." Daryl says as Abraham nods.

"Thanks, I'll talk to Maggie and Jesus." He nods grateful for the support of those who have always been his family.

"I tell you guys don't let that bitch fool you." They hear talking from another table. "She dried up and took off." He growls again. Daryl frowns.

"Who are they talking about?" Glenn asks curiously and Eugene snorts saying your name. Daryl's blue gaze bores into him.

"Apparently they had a relationship. But the thing didn't work out. They broke it off and he's running around talking all kinds of shit." He keeps talking, this time Abraham. "I've threatened to smash his face in, but he won't fucking listen to me." Daryl sees the anger under the ginger mustache.

"I'll have to go talk to him myself." Rick snaps tongue in annoyance.

"Hey, Nathan." Daryl raises his voice and almost the entire bar falls silent. "Why dun ya keep yer voice down?"

"What do you say, Dixon?" he replies, rising from his stool. Rick and the others tense up, but Daryl remains calm.

"That yer talkin’ shit ‘bout someone who ain't here and can't defend herself." He turns his head to look at him. "Besides, it's bullshit."

"And what the fuck do you know?" he roars, but Daryl doesn't flinch.

"I know ‘cause I've been with her too." His companions' eyes widen so wide they look like they're going to pop out of their sockets. "Ya should stop sayin’ she's a slut, maybe ya weren't able to touch her like she deserved." He spits at Nathan with a growl at the end of the sentence.

"And you do, redneck? Since when do you know what a pussy is?"

"Better than ya, like I see." He replies and when the man wants to pounce on him, the bar owner grabs him and pulls him out of there by force.

"Have you slept with her?" Abraham asks unable to contain himself any longer.

"Nah." He shakes his head, drinking from his beer.

"And why the fuck did you tell her that?"

"To get him to stop sayin’ that shit about her."

"But now they'll think she's your girlfriend." Rick tries to understand. "That's not going to get any guy to want to be with her again." Daryl gives them all a sidelong glance, and goes back to drinking from his beer.

"She's gonna be pissed." Eugene says what they're all thinking. "It's not like she's flirting with the men in this community all day, but she has her needs. Just like everyone else." Eugene says again. Daryl gives them a sidelong glance, but shrugs it off as unimportant.

It's frustrating. And you're pissed off. You don't know what's wrong with the men in the community, but they all avoid you like you're cursed, have a fatal disease, or worse. You don't need a steady partner either, but maybe you do need someone to give you some fucking affection.

"Is it that you guys are avoiding me or what's going on?" you growl when another fellow member waves at you from afar, but he looks scared.

"No, it's just... we don't want any trouble."

"Trouble about what? Hey if it's about Nathan, I understand being pissed, but that's only ever happened to me with him..."

"No, it's not about that, Daryl already said he had a big mouth."

"Daryl? I-I don't understand..."

"You're his girl, he said so. I'll pass on Dixon having me in his crosshairs."

You're speechless, you can't even defend yourself from what he just said before he walks away. What Daryl talked to them? That you're his girl? What's that all about? You don't understand anything. Yet as the pieces start to fall into place, your brow furrows, your cheeks flush as anger bubbles under your skin. You emerge from the bar almost like a basilisk ready to talk to the archer. You discover the motorcycle parked next to Rick's house, so you don't hesitate, you walk determinedly towards the basement door and slam it with all your might.

"Dixon, I know you're in there!" you bang on the door again. "Your bike is outside!"

You're tempted to turn around the house, go in the front door and kick down the basement door inside, but it's too late, surely the kids are already asleep. Then the door opens, Daryl looks at you confused from the other side, his hair is disheveled and his eyes are narrowed, it looks like you've woken him up. At another time you'd feel sorry for him, but you're still angry, so you walk in uninvited, crossing your arms.

"What are you doing?" You bark.

"What?" he grunts, rubbing his eyes. You realize then that he's only wearing his jeans, bare-chested and barefoot.

"What have you been going around saying?" you insist shaking your leg nervously.

"What ‘bout? The beer from the bar still has my head choking." He rubs his hair and cross his arms, hands under his armpits.

"What have you told Nathan? Or all the guys in the community? That we're boyfriend and girlfriend?"

"No. I didn't say 'girlfriend'." He shakes his head, understanding what you're saying at last. "I just shut his mouth. He was goin’ around callin’ ya slut and frigid. I just made him think the problem was his ‘cause he didn't know how to touch ya."

"That was my problem! You had no business butting in." You snort in frustration.

"I didn't want him to keep talkin’ bout ya like that." He's not upset, that much is obvious and it stresses you out more.

"Now all the guys are ignoring me! It's like they're afraid of me. No, they're afraid of you."

"M? Ain't gonna do anything to them."

"No, but they think I'm your girl." You remind him, waving your arms nervously. "You can go to the bar and talk to them, clear it up. Tell them we broke it off or it was a shag. But we're not together anymore."

"’kay." He shrugs. "Sorry."

"Well..." You tell him going to the door again. "Anyway... thanks." You look sideways at him. "I know you just wanted to help me and I appreciate it, but I deserve it too."

"Dun think so."

"I left him half-heartedly, I got frustrated, I couldn't... no matter how much he..." You have to admit you're embarrassed to talk about this with Daryl. "So he had a right to say all those things about me." You shrug turning back towards the door.

"I can try." Daryl speaks and you stop.

"What?" you turn to look at him.

"It's frustratin’, the need, wantin’ to finish but not getting there..." He advances towards you, slowly, calculating his steps. Your eyes follow his every advance feeling goosebumps rise on your skin. "Even when yer alone in yer room, it's as if ya've suddenly forgotten how yer own body works.”

"Y-yes..." You gasp, his thumb brushing your lower lips, his blue eyes sinking into you.

"I can try..." He says again. "Maybe it was just Nathan, that he really didn't know what he was doin’."

It's possible, but you're so enraptured in his gaze that you're unable to respond. Daryl holds you by the back of the neck, his nose brushing against yours.

"I only have one condition, close yer eyes." He whispers very close to your mouth.

You hesitate for a few seconds, not quite sure if you want to figure out how this is going to go on, but your eyes close. Seconds later, Daryl's lips are on yours, very lightly, slowly, they feel warm, but not nervous. The sensation makes you snap your eyes open, seeing Daryl staring at you. He breaks the kiss, but his hand is still holding the back of your neck.

"Close yer eyes."

"Y-Yes." You nod closing them again.

This time his mouth encompasses yours completely, his fingers closing tighter against your skin and hair, you don't hesitate to reciprocate, his lips moving against yours, his tongue entering your mouth and you moan low resting your hands on his bare chest. Daryl kisses the line of your jaw, down your neck, you throw your head back, leaning against the door. Daryl's mouth continues to run down your neck, you feel him bite against your racing pulse and you moan at the pleasure coursing through you. You close your eyes tighter, tempted to open them again to see what he's doing.

A squeak escapes your mouth as Daryl pulls you away from the door to make you walk towards his room. He pulls your shirt off, his large hands caressing your wide hips, moving down to your ass as his mouth kisses and bites your shoulder, moving down to your chest. Daryl's hands grip your ass tighter lifting you a few seconds off the floor then sitting you on his bed. Daryl kneels in front of you, his fingers brush your cheeks and lips, you can't see him because your eyes are still closed, but he smiles at you for being so obedient.

He unclasps your bra, his mouth once again running over the skin of your shoulders as he pulls down the straps of your bra before tossing it to the floor.

"Daryl..." A gasp escapes you.

His fingers grasp one of your breasts, he bites and kisses its shape before catching your nipple in his mouth, which he plays with inside his mouth, sucking, licking and nibbling at his pleasure, not neglecting your other nipple which he fiddles with between his fingers getting your head to start spinning, pleasure forming in your stomach, your body jerking. Daryl releases your nipple with a wet sucking sound, licks your skin with the gate of his tongue, from your sternum, down to your navel as he guides your body to lie on the bed. He bites your navel, licks your soft, bulging skin. His deft fingers unbuckle the belt of your pants as well as your boots quickly leaving you in your panties on his mattress. Daryl stops, giving you a little time to catch your breath, he sees you agitated, he doesn't want to make you nervous. He gets up from the floor, you are tempted to open your eyes again when you hear the sound of his belt slapping against the bedroom floor. You lick and bite your lip, waiting for what else Daryl is going to do with you. You feel his body lay down next to you, his mouth runs down your cheek and neck again, one of his arms wraps around your shoulders under your body, his other hand again caresses your belly, your hips, his fingers tighten on your thick thighs to spread your legs apart. You jerk, his hand under your neck covers your eyes as the fingers of his other hand caress your clothed pussy. You hold your breath for a few seconds, your heart racing, your skin too sensitive to his touch.

"Yer scared?"

"No..." You assure him and swallow hard.

"Anxious." He understands then, caresses your mons, slowly moving down, finding the opening of your folds, feeling the dampness of your underwear. "Needy." He kisses your cheek, your mouth, your tongues tangle in a passionate battle.

You arch your back, Daryl's fingers begin to move in circles over your clit, you spread your legs wider to give him better access, still kissing. You dare to touch him at last, one of your hands grips the back of his neck, pulling his hair slightly, your other hand holds his wrist, not stopping him, perhaps daring to guide him a little, before reaching for your breast and stimulating your own nipple. The hunter's pupils dilate, at the sight of you, his fingers on your clitoris move faster.

"Ya like this, ain't ya?" he whispers against your ear, catching that same nipple you're touching, in his mouth, you withdraw your hand, moaning louder.

"Daryl!”

You're so close, you can feel it, how the pleasure starts coursing through your whole body to pool in your lower belly, you're so close already, your eyes roll under Daryl's palm.

"No, not yet." He denies you and his fingers stop the moment.

"What?" you sound desperate, but you don't care, you were touching the best orgasm in a long time and he's denied you.

"Hold on a little." He asks you, releasing you.

Again the urge to open your eyes and say what he's thinking comes over you, but you hold tightly to the sheets as Daryl grabs your panties by the edges of the waistband. You lift your hips to help him get rid of them, the garment getting tangled around one of your ankles. Your heart races faster as you are aware of what Daryl wants to do to you and you bite your lip again.

"Nathan didn't know how to touch ya." You hear him speak. "I barely touched y’ and look how yer already." He scoffs, his fingers running along your folds.

"Don't... Don't talk about him now." You protest with a thread of a voice hearing him chuckle.

Daryl settles between your legs, spreading them a little further apart, his thumbs parting your folds watching your entrance press against nothing. When his tongue brushes your skin, hot, wet, you jump, your hips thrust against his mouth and Daryl devours you like a starving man. His tongue runs up and down your cunt, between your folds, prodding at your entrance, working its way in, he grunts and purrs at your taste, his lips close and press against your clit, sucking, pressing to heighten your pleasure. Which soon begins to swirl in your lower belly again. You close your eyes tightly, clutch the sheets between your fingers, until your knuckles turn white. Your legs jerk, in your mind you beg for it not to stop again. The air gets stuck in your lungs as one of his fingers finds its way into your core moving in and out, adding a second finger, increasing the pleasure, you spread your legs further apart, moving your hips against his hand. You feel him getting closer and closer, stronger and stronger. Daryl has no intention of stopping, but the point he's taking you to is too much.

"Daryl, wait, wait..." You moan, but you can't stop him in time.

You cum, with a long moan, in surprise and pleasure, you let yourself go, feeling yourself squirt and splash on Daryl's face. It's not the first time you've cum like this, it had happened to you before with other boyfriends who had known how to touch your exact spots, but from experience not everyone liked the experience and you didn't want this to ruin the moment.

"Fuck... Daryl, I'm sorry..." You say apologetically, covering your face with both hands.

"Did ya squirt?" He lifts his head, licking his lips. "I've never seen a woman do that..."

"I-I'm sorry..."

"Can ya do it again?"

"Can we pretend it didn't happen and..." You uncover your eyes and look at him, you can't help yourself. "What?"

"Could ya do it again?"

"I- I don't know..." You stammer, completely confused, it's the first positive reaction you've had to this.

“Find out?"

He kisses you again, intense, needy, his teeth biting your lips, his tongue fucking your mouth, his hand covers your eyes again and you close them just the same, lying back, letting his fingers cover your core again, overstimulating your clit, fucking you with his fingers, bringing you to another orgasm, this time faster than before. Your fingers tangle in his hair, you can't help it, and you bite him on the cheek as you cum again, soaking his fingers. Daryl protests at the bite, but his fingers don't stop until you close your legs and hold his wrist.

"Turn around." He tells you in a husky voice.

He releases you and turns away from you.

You do as he asks, turn around, hug the pillow, using it to cover your face, spread your legs apart, dig your knees into the mattress and raise your hips. Behind your back you hear Daryl rummaging for something and the tearing of plastic. You're about to say that at your age you're not worried about getting pregnant, but you're grateful that he's worried about the possibility or you getting something. You gasp as he returns to your side, pushes you slightly further forward, holds you by the waist and guides his cock to your entrance, pushing himself inside, bit by bit. You open your eyes wide, holding your breath, feeling him stretch you, working his way up until he's wedged inside you. You hear him huff and puff, gripping your hips with both hands, he slowly pulls out again, tearing a gasp from you, and you groan as he thrusts in a single thrust, taking on an almost cruel rhythm. Fucking you fast and hard, his fingers digging into the skin of your wide hips. Your moans echo in the room, muffled by the creak and squeak of the bed with each thrust Daryl delivers.

"Oh my God..." You moan holding onto the pillow, bucking your hips against his cock, moving to the opposite direction of his thrusts.

"Fuck..." You hear him say and his movements become more desperate.

The pace is fast, clumsy, sloppy, he's reaching his limit, you can sense it by how tightly he grips your body. But that's not what surprises you the most, it's the fact that he's going to get you to cum again. Three times, since before the apocalypse that hasn't happened to you.

"Daryl, Daryl!" you moan, your toes curling as you tense and clench around his cock.

You hear him curse through his teeth and your orgasm takes over as he spanks your ass hard as he too cums staying still inside you as he unloads and fills the condom.

You both need to catch your breath, you can feel him rocking forward, but he doesn't quite land on your body, his fists are resting on the mattress. You gasp hard against the pillow, trying to process everything that just happened, to stop your knees from shaking.

Daryl steps carefully away from you, you hear his footsteps getting lost down the hallway, all the way to the bathroom, you guess, until you hear the flush of water running. Maybe it's your cue. Maybe it's time for you to grab your clothes and leave. You don't wait for him to tell you. Still feeling weak in the knees, you grab your clothes from the floor, get dressed quickly, leaving the room with your shoes still in your hand. You pass him at the bathroom door. You don't quite know what to say, but he doesn't seem to expect you to either.

“Night." He says.

"G-good night..." You reply, lowering your gaze, walking out of the basement.

You're not sure you'll be able to sleep that night with how fast your heart is beating.

You watch the sunrise. Lying in your bed, looking up at the ceiling, you slowly watch the moon leave its place for the sun, the first rays are annoying, but then you get out of bed. Ready to go on with your daily routine. That makes you think, what's going to happen now between you and Daryl? How should you talk to him? Look at him? What exactly did it mean?

You've known Daryl for years, you've seen him change, that transformation that earned the trust of his entire group, you've seen him fail, make mistakes, but also be loyal, faithful, a friend and protector, you've even seen him joke and laugh when he thought no one was watching. You know his true loyalty is with Rick and Carol, they are the most important people to him, even though he loves the whole group, they are the ones he would give his life for the most. Still, being wandered back and forth and in prison, he took time and patience to teach you how to defend yourselves, how to hunt and how to be invisible. You can say you are friends, almost certainly, you know that if you asked him for help or a favor, he would do it. But this is different. You're not blind, Daryl has his own charm. Many women have noticed that appeal too. Quiet and grumpy, but at the same time he has a big heart. It's also true that you've never seen him with a woman or a man either, but it's clear he knows what he's doing and how he's doing it... maybe before the world went to hell he was in a relationship, or in his travels from community to community he's met other women he's had fun with... no, Daryl's not like that, you don't see him that way.

You let out air loudly through your mouth, trying to stop thinking about it, you adjust your clothes and leave the house to head to the farm area, Olivia gave you a list of things that needed to be replenished in the store room; Beans, tomato, squash if there were still any left, you were starting to plant cabbages as well and although they are not your cup of tea, you are excited to see how the first ones are starting to emerge, slowly forming. It's ironic, how little you loved getting up early on your parents' farm to help them with the work in the fields and how much you treasure it now. You still hate mosquitoes, though.

"Good morning." You raise your head when you see Carol right in front of you, with such a characteristic smile. You smile too.

"Good morning, Carol." You greet her, carefully plucking some tomatoes, dropping them in the box you bring with you. "Do you need anything?"

"I've come to get some carrots and squash to make a couple of pies." She tells you walking into the field with you. "I talked to Olivia and she gave me permission." She jokes, making you smile again. "How are you, I see you in a better mood than you've been these days." She comments absentmindedly and you open your eyes wide.

You know you can't hesitate with her, Carol is quiet but she knows how to observe and as the mother of the group, she will worry if she sees you take too long to answer or try to make up a lie.

"Y-yes, it's just that I went to talk to Daryl yesterday." Your voice trembles for a second and you clears your throat.

"Oh, so that was you, Michonne said someone almost woke RJ up because they were banging on the garage door."

"Shit..."

"Don't worry, I think Rick already calmed her down."

"Argh, I don't want to know about that..."

"So were you able to talk to Daryl?" She asks you again, helping her pluck the carrots. "You know he sometimes acts without thinking, but he doesn't mean it."

"It's like you're talking about a puppy or a child..."

"What's the difference?" she jokes, making you laugh, but yes, if you told her what Daryl had done to you she wouldn't think of him as a child.

"We were able to talk and he told me he'd clear it up, so I was more at ease."

Carol shoots you a curious look, you frown slightly, waiting for her to say something, but the woman remains in a state of mystery. When you finish filling your boxes, you walk together toward Olivia's storage room.

"What, are you going to tell me what's on your mind or not?" You say because you can't stop seeing her smile.

"It's nothing, it's just that your 'courtship' gave a lot of buzz."

"Oh yeah?" You look at her curiously.

"Sure, believe it or not, Daryl has a lot of popularity among women." She nods, your eyebrows raise higher making her laugh.

"But... I've never seen Daryl with a girl... Do you know if he's ever had a girlfriend?"

"Well, we know he's tricky when it comes to making friends, but yeah, I know he had a thing with a girl he met in the woods... you know, after what happened with Negan, that time he took to himself." You nod. "And Connie..."

"I knew it!" You blurt out, perhaps shouting louder than you should have. "I knew it...I thought it was so cute that he wanted to learn sign language." You laugh softly, Carol nods. "But Connie."

"She's in the Commonwealth, you know she comes to see us from time to time, but last time, she told us she'd met someone there."

"Poor Daryl..."

"He was the first one to be happy for her, he's always been so good at heart."

"Yes... And what about the other girl?"

"I didn't know her." She shrugs. "But he told me she didn't want to come to Alexandria, he made her choose and when Daryl went looking for her, she was gone."

"...Do you think he misses her?"

"I don't know, this happened even before Connie, maybe he has her as a good memory, but I don't think so... Why?"

"No, curiosity, like I'm telling you, I've never seen him with a woman and... now you've blown me away."

"Daryl is so much more than you think."

Those words ring in your ears for the rest of the day. Yes, it's true, you found out that very night, when you showed up over there and he did with you whatever he wanted, whatever you let him, but it's not just that. You've discovered that Daryl has his little secrets, he's had his romances, his little love stories. None of them have ended, maybe, well and maybe that's why he's still elusive but it makes you want to know more, it makes you think about you, what has what happened meant to him? Should you talk about it?

"Hey..." His voice pierces your ears, making you raise your head. You're helping Olivia with the warehouse inventory and he's peeking through the garage door.

"Hi..." You whisper, you feel nervous and your hands move awkwardly, you don't know where to put them and you fold your arms. "Are you here to get something?"

"Carol." He answers with a nod. "I was told she had gone to the orchard, have ya seen her?"

"She came all the way out here with me, she was bringing some stuff to make some pies, I guess she's home."

"Nah... she ain't there, I've already looked for her."

"Uhm... maybe she's at the mill, or she's gone to help Rosita with Coco..." You give him several options seeing how he shrugs. "Is something wrong?"

"No, I'm gonna go to Hiltop." He tells you. "Maggie and Glenn need help there, I'm taking a group for a few days. I just wanted to say goodbye."

"Oh... You've already got the posse closed?"

"Yeah, wanna come?" He shifts his body weight from one foot to the other, squeezing the crossbow band with his hand.

"Uhm no, if you've already got it all organized."

"No, ya can come, if ya wanna, the more hands we have the better." He shakes his body, raising his hands.

"Okay." You nod, you really feel like going to Hiltop, see Maggie, maybe talk to her about what happened with Daryl. "I'll pack the backpack and..."

"Okay, let Rick know, we'll wait for you at the gate."

"Okay."

It looks like things haven't changed between you and Daryl. You're relieved about that. Thinking about how you should act from now on was weighing you down a bit, but the hunter doesn't show any sign of discomfort, or approach either, it's a bit disappointing, but you prefer it that way, you don't want the friendship you have with him to be ruined. Once you have your pack ready, you grab your Halberd and run off in search of the group, Daryl is waiting for you along with a couple of wagons with the horses, your companions and the gear you're going to need.

"Hop on." The archer says to you, looking at the bike. You nod, climbing on without hesitation. It's not the first time you've ridden together on his bike.

On the ride nothing is out of the ordinary, except for how fast your heart feels. You're used to riding the bike with him, but your head is going a mile a minute. Daryl slows down a little as you ride over the bridge you built a few years ago, the vibration of the wheels going over it sends a tingle through your body and you hug a little tighter to Daryl's body. He looks over his shoulder at you, smiles and speeds off again. Arriving at Hilltop fills you with excitement, you almost jump off the bike when the gates open and you finally stop. Maggie, Glenn and Jesus are the first to greet you. You run straight to your friend, hugging her tightly. It's been days since you've seen her, she takes care of the whole community with her husband and Jesus, she had too many obligations on her back.

"I didn't know you were coming."

"I joined the group at the last minute." You smile, hugging Glenn and Jesus too.

"Good, because I hadn't gotten around to responding to your letter yet." He looks at you apologetically and you shake your head. "We've been pretty busy."

"I can see that, I love how you guys are rebuilding it, after what happened with the Whisperers." You sigh. "It's almost like going back to our parents' farm."

"Yeah... come on, we'll show you where you'll be sleeping these days." Glenn gestures for you to leave your things there.

The wagons are put aside, the animals are taken to the stable. Your companions are housed in different wooden cottages and you and Daryl are taken to another, slightly larger, two-bedroom cottage.

"We didn't know you were coming, but I guess you don't mind sharing the house."

"No, no problem." Daryl shakes his head. "It's not the first time."

"No, I remind you that I was the one putting up with his snoring in prison." You joke and hear him snort.

"My snoring? The one moving the walls was you."

"No way!" You look at him offended, watching a small smile form on his mouth.

"I'll leave this here." He changes the subject, dropping his backpack on the couch. "I'm gonna go with the others, to find out what we're doin’ tomorrow."

"Okay, I'm going with Maggie and Jesus."

"Okay." He nods before leaving the house.

With your friend and Jesus you go up to the main house of Hilltop, they have restored it, it is almost as majestic as it once was, no doubt they are trying their best to preserve that place. You feel a little uneasy, you didn't want to make a big deal out of it, seeing that Daryl hasn't changed his attitude towards you, but after what Carol has told you about his courtship, you need to talk to someone about it.

"We've been scouting the northeast area, we've covered more ground since the last checkpoint, across the bridge. We've found some settlements..." Maggie begins to speak as you enter her office.

"I've slept with Daryl." You throw up, unable to contain yourself any longer. Jesus and Maggie raise their heads at the same time.

"What?" is all you can say.

"Are you dating Daryl?" he dares to ask. He doesn't want to get too much into the conversation, but curiosity gets the better of him too.

"No..." You avert your gaze, but you know you've captured Maggie Rhee's undivided attention.

You forcefully release air through your mouth, wanting to shake off the weight you feel on your back. You start talking, you tell her what happened with Nathan, how the relationship started to deteriorate, the little connection you had in bed and how you left his house leaving him in the middle. You then explain to him that Daryl tried to defend himself in his own way, tangling things up a bit more and when you wanted to talk to him, things cleared up, but you were surprised by his proposal.

"Was he the one who told you?" Maggie is getting more and more intrigued.

"Yes...and it was..."

"Okay! I don't want to know so many details!" Jesus refuses. "I'm leaving, when you're done, we'll talk." He tells you and leaves quickly.

"But don't say anything. Daryl keeps treating me as usual, it's not weird or awkward... I don't want things to get complicated."

"But...do you like him?"

"Daryl? Well..." You get quiet all of a sudden.

"Come on, haven't you ever thought about it?"

"I don't know. Have you?"

"No! I have Glenn."

"Let's see...he's changed a lot since we met him at your dad's farm...not just physically, I'm aware of that, but I never thought he...well nor that he could...like me." You shrug.

"Why not?"

"I don't know!" you groan in despair, covering your face with both hands. "I always thought Carol and him, but... well, we're friends..."

"Glenn and I started out that way." He tells you. "Sort of... and now we're married and we have Hershel."

"That last part doesn't bother me, getting pregnant at my age..."

"You can always adopt, like Aaron."

"First we'll figure out what this is, then we'll talk about kids..."

Maggie smiles broadly, you feel your cheeks flush, but you try to concentrate on what's important, the plans your friend was talking about with Jesus, the settlements found, the departures to talk to them, expand the circle of allies or prepare for a new battle. You spend hours planning, talking, rewriting everything they have to show it to Rick and Michonne, planning something also with Ezekiel. When you finish with your meeting you make a dinner for all the people of Hilltop, you use a huge kitchen that they have installed in the main house, there are a few of you who move between the stoves and tables, leaving everything ready. You feel your heart warming up as you look around you, discovering that everyone is enjoying that moment, the peace and calm that surrounds all those people. You look across the table when your eyes connect with Daryl's on the other side, next to Glenn and a few others, he stares at you, you can see him smiling sideways, a smile forms on your mouth as well and you look away, focusing on the food on your plate.

Your heart beats so hard you feel it pounding against your bones.

When dinner is over you feel your body pass you a ton. After all the travel, the community involvement and then the relaxation you've felt from being at dinner, it has taken all your strength. As you enter the house you almost throw yourself on the couch, but Daryl holds you down.

"No, no." He says. "Go to bed." He orders you. "Tomorrow we're gonna start work and ya need to be in top shape."

"Bossy..."

"Get used to it, although I dun think ya care sometimes." He subtly pushes you toward the room you've decided is going to be yours. You know what he means. You've understood his little dig. You turn to look at him, but he just points to your room with his chin. "Night." He says and disappears into his own room.

"Good night..." You whisper at his door.

Things are definitely business as usual. You know what Daryl is doing, he's feeling out the situation, trying to figure out the same thing you are, that everything is fine, that there's no conflict, that you can still call each other friends. Still, you can't help but smile, he tries to flirt with you too, carefully, dropping his words, waiting to see their effect. You wonder again what would have happened if that woman had returned with him to Alexandria or Connie hadn't stayed in the Commonwealth.

******************

Jobs are hard at Hilltop, everyone cooperates to raise the houses, expand the walls surrounding the city, protect the fields, outside Hilltop, so that the Walkers don't enter and destroy everything. Also to keep the animals safe.

Maggie has wanted to know on several occasions how things have been going with Daryl, if there have been any problems, you repeat to her several times that no, it's fine, not to insist on it. Anyway, you come home exhausted every day, the only thing you think about is taking a shower and going to sleep.

Your body is much more relaxed when you get out of the shower, the mist on your skin is the perfect sign that you've used up all the hot water. You feel a little bad for Daryl, but you know he'll understand.

"Rough day?" You hear Daryl's voice from his bedroom door.

"Same as yours." You look at him, he's showered too, before you, so he was already home when you've arrived.

"Come..." He whispers in a little roar that ruffles your hair.

"Okay." You whisper as well walking over to where he is.

Your body weighs down on Daryl's, you arch your back feeling the pleasure coursing through you as the archer, grabbing your ass, helps you move over him and he cums letting out a gasp in a grunt. You lay back on his chest, trying to catch your breath, Daryl's hands are still on your ass, you can feel his fingertips close, squeezing your ass, almost making you laugh.

"I don't know if I'll be able to go to my room..." You say with a trickle of voice.

"Ya can stay here. Dun gotta leave."

**************

There they are again, those same young women who have been after him for several weeks now. You frown slightly. Daryl has just returned from another trip of a few days, this time he brings some gasoline and parts that will be used to reinforce the walls of the community and continue its expansion, your people come and go constantly, some of you stay longer inside the high walls to take care of the city, but he is constantly out, which makes seeing him come back always a relief.

As soon as he drops the bike in front of his front door, there's already a group of girls nearby, wanting to help him, all talking at once, hovering around him, touching him without his permission. What do they intend?

"I think if you keep staring so hard you'll get some of them blown up." You listen beside you. Your heart leaps inside your chest, you raise your head, discovering Carol right next to you. You didn't even realize when she got there.

"I don't know..." You try to make something up, but she sits, on the porch, grabbing another shirt to help you. You're mending some clothes, small holes, adding patches of denim or leather to make them sturdier. Out of caution.

"Are these the girls you told me about?" She asks you again, you just nod.

"They've been after him like headless chickens for weeks." You sigh fixing your gaze for a moment on the patch you're sewing, the last thing you need is to stab a finger. "No matter what time, they're always waiting for him in front of his house."

"How do you know that, do you spy on him?"

"What? No! But we're neighbors, I see them walking past my house and..."

"I don't think you need to worry. I'm pretty sure Daryl has no interest in girls that young."

That shuts you up, also stopping in your tasks. You look up directing your gaze back to Daryl, the girls and now Rick is talking to his brother, the two of them seem engrossed in an important conversation. Ignoring the archer's small fan club.

"I-I don't mean age... Daryl can be with whoever he wants, but it bothers me that they think it's so simple, that he's going to notice them dressed... like this..."

You can feel that like this slipping out of your mouth. There is disappointment and frustration in such a small word. They're young and you understand that, despite the world you live in, they like to draw attention to themselves, feeling safe behind those walls, but you don't think those tiny jean shorts and tight t-shirts are the right bait with Daryl.

"You think Daryl isn't a man who notices pretty legs or a pair of boobs?" Carol asks, mockery and irony shaking her question. You grunt, shaking your head.

"No, of course he'll like those things, but I mean..."

"Are you afraid they'll take him away from you?" Attacks Carol again and that leaves you speechless.

After what happened at Hilltop, you've talked to the group. You've ended up telling them all, whatever is going on between you and Daryl. Maybe your main idea was to take a load off your mind, to clear your head, but you were also hoping for some kind of advice, some encouragement from them. But you only found curiosity and gossip, which makes that every time Daryl is around or comes up in a topic of conversation, mocking looks fall on you, wanting to disappear.

"No. I'm not afraid they'll take him away from me. He's nothing of mine." You fight back, feeling yourself start to get angry, nervous. It always happens to you when you're cornered. "But I think if they knew him well, they'd know that Daryl is not one to be swayed by first impressions, and it's obvious that they're just trying to get his attention because of his physique..."

"They want to have fun with him, yes, that's obvious." Carol agrees, calming down her game a bit when she realizes she's pulling on you too much. "But you know Daryl and you shouldn't worry. I doubt he'll fall for their game."

"I'm not worried...but I find it a little depressing that every day they do the same thing, like hoping that in the end, out of desperation, he'll agree."

"As I say, I don't think you should worry, he's clear about his own interests." Says the white-haired woman again.

You raise your head once again directing your gaze towards the hunter. Rick nods his head several times, Daryl speaks and expresses himself with his whole body, with quick and nervous gestures, but both men seem to come to an agreement. Rick taps him on the shoulder affectionately, helping him with the gas canisters he has brought, Carl is also there to lend a hand, Abraham and Olivia, who notes down everything the archer has brought. Leaving the bike and the empty trailer, Daryl is left alone again, well, the group of young people is still by his side, waiting to get his attention, but the man passes by. Between his hands he fiddles with a piece of paper, it looks like a new list of things to do or bring. You tense slightly as you realize he is walking directly toward your house, toward Carol and you. The girls call out to him, but they stay back, they never get too close when he's with any of you, whether it's Denise, or Rosita or whoever, they prefer to talk to him when he's alone. Or at least try to.

"Here comes Romeo."

"Carol!" you groan, looking at her with wide eyes.

"Hey Pookie!" The woman greets him, ignoring your reproachful voice. "How was the ride?"

"Fine, fine. I brought gas from a stand that traded it for Walkers, they have huge barrels, ain't sure where they get it from or how it stays stable, but it'll help us for a few days." He comments with his voice in a growl. Carol nods. "I've also brought some parts Eugene needed for the radio, I'm going with him to the Commonwealth to see Princess and Merce, Rick has some stuff for them." He shrugs. You raise your eyebrows.

"You're leaving again?" you blurt out, perhaps sounding more distressed than you intend.

"Yes, tomorrow, I'll get some sleep today, pack a car with everything I need and leave early." She nods chewing her lip several times.

"But you just got here..." it sounds almost stupid and you watch as he just shrugs, not understanding why it's a problem.

It's not a problem, there's no problem really. You understand that it's his job, that despite how long Alexandria is his home, Daryl is more comfortable outside the walls, it's his spirit animal, it's who he is. But it's a selfish feeling, you'd like to see him at least a few days over there, calmly, simply enjoying the day, with you, perhaps, doing nothing else. A single heartbeat, strong, forceful against your chest makes you aware of what you have just thought. Your pulse quickens as your face must reflect everything you are thinking, for the faces of your companions change, they look worried.

You want him to stay in Alexandria, with you.

Fuck…

"Are you okay?" Carol asks you.

"Y-Yeah, just..."

"Wanna come to the Commonwealth?" Daryl's voice brings you out of your bubble completely.

"What?" you feel a little stupid for your question.

"It's a good idea." Rick's presence catches you by surprise. You hadn't even seen him, he's there, standing in front of you, hands on hips, with a kind and calm gesture, but at the same time he has an amused gleam in his eye. He knows something, surely Michonne has told him something. "Juanita is going to need help organizing the party she has planned, I'm also going to send Rosita, Enid, Eugene and another group to help, to organize it with Max as well."

"Yes, that's a good idea, besides it's been days since you've been out, I'm sure Connie will be glad to see you." You're encouraged by Carol, for a second you want to ask if she'll be happy to see you or Daryl, but you bite your tongue in time.

"Well, okay, that way I can see how Princess is doing too." You agree although still a little nervous. Daryl nods his head.

"Get some clothes ready, a backpack and we'll leave first thing tomorrow morning."

"Okay..." You nod watching as they all slowly leave, leaving you alone again with Carol.

"You really like him." She comments. It's not a question, there's no hesitation. She just mentions something so obvious it makes you shudder.

"I..." You gasp nervously, looking at Daryl.

"It's possible that you always liked him, but that none of them would have noticed."

"Sounds like a cheesy romance novel..." You mutter and she laughs.

"More like an erotic novel, don't you think?" she jokes getting your cheeks to flush bright red.

You decide to set about getting your things ready after your conversation with Carol. You don't want to think about it too much. Have real feelings for Daryl. Not just the sporadic sex you two have. That makes you nervous and anxious at the same time, you'd like to talk to the archer, ask him if he feels the same way too, but at the same time, you're afraid that he doesn't, and it will all end drastically and awkwardly for both of you.

You leave your backpack, your weapons, your things in general ready at the side of the bed. You go over the edge of your halberd, it's been days since you've been outside the walls of Alexandria, you want to have everything ready so that there won't be any problems later. At night you find it hard to fall asleep, you are nervous about the trip, it's nothing new, it has always happened to you. Sitting on your couch, with a book in your hands and a dim light, you try to lure yourself to sleep so you can go to bed when you hear a knock at the door. Frowning slightly, you put the book down on the couch to open the door. Daryl is on the other side. Maybe in another situation you'd be surprised he was there, but not now. A small smile forms on your mouth in greeting, he gives you a sidelong glance before entering the house as you step aside. The door closes slowly, neither of you needing to say anything. You lean against the wall as Daryl leans into you, kissing you slowly. Your arms go around his neck, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

Falling asleep after that was much easier.

The next morning, the two of you wake up in your room, not for the first time, here or in Daryl's basement, since that night at Hilltop, sleeping together is also an option and in the mornings it doesn't feel strange, neither the situation, nor the conversation. Daryl gives a gentle touch to one of the legs lying on top of his, waking you up completely. You rub your eyes lazily to look up at him out of the corner of your eye. He looks asleep too, but greets you with a small smile.

"Morning." He grunts, you just hum, unable to find your voice yet. "I'm gonna go home to get my things, gotta everythin’ ready?"

"Yes...but, don't you want some breakfast first?" You offer, looking at him already with your eyes fully open and awake. He shakes his head.

"I'll eat something while I get the bike organized." He comments, you nod letting him free, you move your legs aside, Daryl gets up looking for his clothes.

"Okay, so I'll meet you later at the main house by the warehouse to get the wagon and horses."

"Okay." He nods, getting up, putting on the black sweater and vest.

Even today you find it painful to look at his back, there are many new scars due to the new world you live in, you all have them, but nothing compared to what the hunter has tattooed on him from his previous life. You sigh, earning Daryl a raised eyebrow, you shake your head.

"I don't know if I'll be able to get up." You joke, not wanting to worry him with your real thoughts. Daryl laughs through his nose, lowering his head, hiding his red cheeks with his hair.

"Don't be long, the Commonwealth is far, we need all day to get there, dun want us to get caught in the night." He asks you and you nod your head.

"Yes, sir." You smile, earning an intense stare, but the archer leaves without another word.

Later, already prepared, with your pack and weapons with you, you're finishing off the last few boxes in the wagon, Olivia making a list of everything you're taking with you as you tie the horses to the wagon. Daryl approaches down the same street, Rick meets him at the door of the house, greeting him with a gentle touch on the back to which the hunter responds with the same touch. Eugene and the rest of the group accompanying you are also ready to leave.

"I'll go ahead with the bike." Daryl says. "We'll position ourselves around the wagon to avoid any kind of assault or any Walkers getting too close."

"The group stay well aware, we know what the way there is like, we have communities that are allies, but there are always people who don't respect the rules." Rick speaks as well. "Don't waste ammunition unnecessarily, but don't be intimidated either."

"Don't worry, boss." Abraham says getting into his car. "We'll call in on the radio as soon as we get there."

"Go carefully." He asks you and you all set off.

Before you leave the community you see Carol standing by the front door, waving goodbye to you. A mischievous smile runs across her mouth and you look down, you know what's going through her mind and you don't want her to see your face turn red. A new trip with Daryl, which will keep you out of the community for a few days, surely Princess will offer you the hunter's old apartment, where he lived with the Grimes family. Thinking about it makes your stomach clench, butterflies flutter loudly almost making you dizzy. You shake your head to get those thoughts out of your head. The trip is going to be a long one, you need to stay alert on the road, the last thing you want is for your companions to end up in trouble because of your fantasies.

**********************

Princess and Merce are waiting for you at the huge gates of the Commonwealth when you arrive late at night. The sun is already setting leaving the uncertainty of the night behind you, but it has been an intense journey. You have been caught in an ambush of Walkers, two or three of which you have been able to deal with without much trouble, but further along the same road, they were cutting you off. Among them there was still some Whisperer, guiding them, using them as a shield to continue to survive. The supplies and yourselves are fine, but you arrive tired, covered in blood and mud, which does not prevent your friend from hugging you when you enter the community. Juanita gives Daryl a gentle hug, she has known the hunter for less time than some of you, but has learned that displays of affection with him are brief, with the rest she allows herself to give you a tight hug, smiling broadly and even laughs when she hugs Rosita, excited. Yumiko, Magna and Connie are also waiting for you in the main square, Max runs directly to hug Eugene who wraps his arms around her, happy to see her again. Merce approaches you giving you a handshake, the soldier is still stiff and formal, despite no longer working under anyone's orders.

"It's good to see you again." You hear Daryl mutter, out of the corner of your eye you see him gesturing to Connie. She smiles broadly, giving him a hug that he accepts without hesitation.

You don't like the way you feel at that moment. Connie is a wonderful person and an excellent friend, for your stomach to cringe like that when you see them together, you don't like it. You don't want to feel that way. You and Daryl are nothing and they seem to fit together perfectly. You wonder again what would have happened if the two of them had decided to stay in Alexandria or come to the Commonwealth together. You'd possibly see Daryl a lot less and you'd never have figured out those feelings you have for him.

"Shit..." You mumble under your breath. Magna looks up, they're getting the stuff from the cart where you are.

"Everything okay?" she asks you leaving several boxes in a small trailer being taken away by other soldiers from the community.

"What? Oh, yeah, it's just... it's been a long trip." You lie, though not entirely. Truth be told a shower and a bed wouldn't hurt right about now.

"Okay, let the boys take care of this, come with us." Princess says, taking her partner's hand and you all walk towards the main building. You have a small meeting at the entrance. Max hands out a few things among you, apartment keys, a few bags with some towels and food already prepared.

"We have placed most of you in your old apartments, the rest of you are also relocated to various houses. If you don't know how to get there, we'll drive you, I think some of you are coming to the community for the first time." She says looking at some of the companions who have come with you.

"There is hot water so you can take a shower, the apartments are clean and we have prepared something to eat for you." Max explains as well. "We guess you guys are exhausted, we'll talk about the party tomorrow."

"Daryl." Merce speaks after a while observing the situation. "You guys we've put you in Rick and the kids' old house. Where you were living."

"A'right, thanks... I figure it's time for a well deserved rest." He looks at you, your body trembles, you didn't expect him to invite you, although it's clear, where else would you go? Well maybe in some other apartment, or with Rosita and Coco.

You detect out of the corner of your eye how Connie looks at the two of you, curiously, and then she smiles biting her lip. You open your eyes wide, nervous, feeling your cheeks burn. Something knows, something senses, which is reaffirmed when Daryl gives you a tap to get your attention, you snap out of your self-absorption to look at him.

"Cmon?"

"Y-yeah, see you tomorrow." You smile a little.

"Is there something I should know?" You listen to Merce talk to Princess.

"Later at home I'll explain it to you." She replies kissing your cheek. "Everyone to rest." She gives the others permission to retire.

"You're good at being the boss." Rosita tells her, cradling Coco in her arms.

"Nope. Merce take care of everything, I just pretend I know what I'm talking about." She jokes, making the small group laugh. "People are a lot calmer now that things aren't ruled...well, like they used to be." He shrugs.

A party. The thought keeps running through your mind as you walk the dark but quiet streets of the Commonwealth. True, things are quiet, it almost seems like the world you once knew, but that's... you still remember the first party in that world of the dead. When you arrived in Alexandria, not knowing what was going to happen, who these people were, or if things would work out. Deanna invited you all to a party to welcome you, seeing dresses, party clothes, high heels inside the closet of what would be your new home made you a little dizzy, making you think that that community would not stand for long.

You were glad you were wrong about that.

"It's been a while since I've celebrated Christmas." You comment, not sure if you said it loud enough or just thought it. When you feel Daryl's gaze on you, you know you've caught his attention.

"We've never celebrated." He mutters, not giving it a thought. You look at him in surprise.

"Never?"

"Well, when I was a kid, but I don't remember much...it was just another day my dad came home drunk." He shrugs.

"I'm sorry to hear that..." You whisper pityingly. You know little and less about Daryl's life, only what he's told you, and truth be told, he's never been too cheerful.

"It's not like I care." He shakes his body. "We can do it so the kids can enjoy a different kind of day, gifts, sounds good to me."

"I have to figure out what to get Judith and RJ."

"It's not like you have much of a choice." He tries to joke and you laugh through your nose.

"You're right..." You stand there for a moment thinking. "Do you want to come with me to the mall?" You say it as a joke, but at the same time it's true, you'd like to take a quick trip to the mall near the Commonwealth, “I'm sure it's stripped down, but just to try it out.”

"To the mall next door?" he asks catching you by surprise. "Do you think there will be anything left?"

"I-I don't know, but I'd sure like to take a look."

"Okay, we can make a list, bring stuff for the kids here too..."

"And for us, I mean... I'm sure the others will be excited too."

"I guess."

A small smile tugs at your mouth, biting your lip to try to stifle it a little and not annoy the hunter, but you feel his gaze on you, one eyebrow raised, questioning.

"What?"

"Nothing, I'm just excited by the idea. Just from imagining the kids opening the presents." You laugh softly and he seems to catch it, snorting.

"You like kids." He understands, looking sideways at you, opening the apartment door. "But I've never seen you with one."

"The world went to shit, Daryl, remember? The thought of bringing a baby into this world scares me, I know we're safer now, that things are different than they were in the beginning, but..." You shrug, venturing inside the house, right behind him. "Besides at my age the chances of me getting pregnant are very small..."

"But it's not impossible." You cut off your thoughts. You look at him, twisting your head slightly, smile trying to joke and put your hands on your hips.

"Is it that you want a baby, Dixon?"

He looks at you, there doesn't seem to be any expression on his face, but the intensity in his eyes make your smile falter, forcing you to hold your breath for a few seconds before he shakes his head.

You, maybe.

"Nah, who'd want another Dixon for the world?"

"I know of a group that would love to help you with that." You can't bite your tongue in time. By the time you're aware of what you've said, Daryl is already looking at you with raised eyebrows and a pursed mouth. How stupid.

"What?"

"Nothing."

But you know his question is rhetorical. That he understood perfectly well what you were referring to, he's just trying to set the conversation straight. You're standing there, in the middle of the living room of the apartment, now it feels incredibly small to you, feeling suffocated, you'd like to leave the conversation there, tell him goodnight and tomorrow will be another day. But Daryl turns on his axis and walks towards you a couple of steps.

"You mean the group short shorts?" He says with an amused edge to his voice.

Oh. He's noticed it too. You think, but of course, how can you not? As Carol told you, why wouldn't nice legs and little ones still in place get his attention? They'd get your attention too if you'd like those things. You shake off those thoughts, taking a small step back, looking at him sideways.

"They are always waiting for you when you come back from some mission..." You try to justify yourself.

"They're just looking for attention. Besides I don't think I could handle all four at once. I'm not that good."

Your gaze shoots to him, there's a small smile on his mouth at the same time the tips of his ears look reddened. You hold each other's gaze for a few seconds before you laugh and lower your head, hiding the laugh between your teeth.

"Idiot."

"I have no intention with any of them." You say again. "I don't like them following me around either, but they don't listen to me."

"Bark, you're good at it when you're angry." You prod him and he snorts.

"I think you like it when I bark at you." He smiles moving a little closer to you.

"You don't bark at me...you just growl at me." You smile wanting to tease him, Daryl growls, brushing his nose against yours, a chuckle escapes you.

"You want me to growl at you?" he whispers against your lips, you nod.

"Yes..."

Opening your eyes you feel Daryl's arm around your waist, pressing you against his chest, fully asleep, or so it seems. Slowly, not wanting to wake him, you look up, discovering how calm and relaxed he seems. His other arm under his head, his disheveled hair falling over his eyes, his mouth half open, letting out several sighs that don't become snores. It is a privileged view that you try to burn into your mind. Very slowly you move between his arms, kissing his chin, the line of his jaw, but the movement wakes Daryl, putting him on alert. His huge hand covers your mouth as he turns sharply, standing over you. Your heart races at the sight of his still sleeping eyes. As he begins to become aware of where he is and who you are, he snorts and slowly lowers his hand from your mouth.

"I'm sorry. I was asleep..."

"I know, it's a miracle I didn't know existed." You joke and he rolls his eyes.

"Shut up. What were you doing?"

"Looking at you."

"That's creepy." He jokes and you laugh quietly.

"I like looking at you, you're so cute." You continue to sting watching his ears turn red.

"Why didn't you roll over and go back to sleep?"

"Because we have to go get the kids presents." You smile wider seeing him get a small smile too.

"Okay." He grunts letting you off the hook, sitting down on the bed to get his clothes and get dressed.

It's been days since you've dreamed of that time. Before you and Daryl started this relationship. The Christmas that changed everything for you.

Your relationship with Daryl started to become more evident and continuous from that first night in the Commonwealth. You went next to the mall, talking to Princess, Merce and Max about your gift idea, everyone thought it was a good idea and put together different requests from kids and teens in the community to try to bring everything. While you were looking for the last requests before Christmas day, the party was all organized, the room where it was going to be held was fully decorated, even a Christmas tree had been put up and was being surrounded by lots of presents, but some were left behind and you were doing your best to find them when you and Daryl heard a very soft cry coming from one of the tents.

There you found Oscar, a baby just a few months old, begging for attention, possibly starving. His mother was chained up not far from him and it was evident that she had not long ago been transformed. You didn't even hesitate, Daryl gave his mother rest and then took little Oscar in his arms, he was wrapped in a blanket with that name embroidered on it, so you decided to leave that name for the baby. When you returned to the community there was a small commotion when you saw the baby in your arms, many questions plastered on the faces and eyes of your companions.

"You were supposed to go for gifts for the children, where did you get that one?" Princess asked for the others.

You explained to them what had happened at the mall and no one doubted that you had done the sensible thing. On the other hand, the idea of adopting Oscar didn't cross your mind at first, in fact your idea was to leave him at the Commonwealth, surely someone would take care of him, but Daryl didn't think so.

"We kept it. We found him."

"Daryl, it's a baby, it's not a toy. You can't just… claim him..."

"And what yer gonna do, leave him here for someone to raffle off." He snorted and you opened your mouth but then closed it. If you thought about it...

"I'm just trying to find him a family."

"We could be his family!" He barked and you looked at him with wide eyes.

"We?"

"In Alexandria, I meant... all of us, in the community... you..." mumbled looked visibly nervous. You knew there was something struggling to get out but his mouth refused to spit it out.

"Fine, we'll take him with us to Alexandria, but you can't force me to have a baby, Daryl." You tried to make him understand. "Much less if I have to take care of it by myself."

Again you saw that gesture in him, like chewing his lip as his eyes searched for a spot to look other than you, the ideas building up in his head, but his mouth still didn't want to speak.

"You know Daryl. If you have something to say to me, say it, it's not good to keep things to yourself." You provoked him to speak, but he just turns and walks away. "I thought so..." You growled.

As Rick arrived with the others, even Carol with Ezekiel from The Kingdom, you had to explain again how you had found Oscar, earning you some funny looks from your friends, but you wanted to ignore them, however, in your mind Daryl's words followed, maybe you should take Oscar to Alexandria, he will be safe there too, after all there will be other mothers there who can help you if you had doubts, plus other children he could make friends with. Maybe you should listen to Daryl. During the day you took care of Oscar, taking care of him, bringing out your maternal instinct. It's not that you don't like children, you loved taking care of Judith and RJ, but you never thought you would become a mother. That day with Oscar in your arms, you ended up making the decision that you would be his mother and that he would come back to Alexandria with you.

Daryl got to you before you got to him. At the ball, after getting everything ready, the archer appeared through the party room, walking straight towards you.

"Daryl listen..."

"I wanna have a baby with ya." Your words got stuck in your throat. "Ya asked me if I wanted to have a baby, yes, if it's with ya." You were unable to speak, Daryl was breathing heavily, his nose swelling, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Saying all that was complicated for him, it was clear he'd had an intense argument with himself. "You said you didn't think you could have babies and suddenly Oscar has shown up...it's...I dunno..." He was stunned, he simply couldn't get his thoughts together and it was overwhelming him.

"Is that what you want? It would be a commitment... very long term, Daryl, it's..."

"Yer my girl, ain't ya? A commitment..."

"I'm your girl?" your heart raced violently at those words.

"Ya wanna a ring or somethin’?" he asked leaving you speechless once again.

The sparkle on your finger captures your attention, pulling you back out of the memories. You didn't need a ring for Daryl to make it clear how he felt, his words had already done that, but still the archer showed up with a ring that symbolized a little more of how he felt.

"You're such a romantic, Dixon." You laughed with him accepting the gift.

"We were already friends. The sex is fine. All that was missing was the baby." He told you and you laughed.

"Mom?" You hear in the hallway, putting you both on alert.

"Shall I go?" asks Daryl who is already sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Please, I'll be right there and fix some breakfast."

"Okay." He leans over giving you a kiss. "Coming, champ."

"Daddy!" replies Oscar with an excited shout.

You sit on the bed for a few more seconds, enjoying just that, the feeling that is enveloping you, in the distance, you hear Daryl's voice and Oscar's laughter enjoying his father's attentions. You close your eyes feeling goose bumps, your heart racing. How everything has changed with a few simple words.

"I can try…”

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dommelody · 1 year

Text

writing this while listening to "i can't do this"

cw: sub!satoru,public sex, smut,+18,male!reader

satoru gets horny after the mission

"oiii,satoru? where did he go ?"

" as soon as we finished the mission he and y/n just vanished! "

"well,i don't care as long as i can go home now lol bye"

"byee,I'll wait here a bit longer in case they went to the toilet I'm also beat from this mission i need some rest"

"alright, going first then see ya"

"yea see u"

-----------

"H-Heyy slow-ngh d-down fuck~♡"

"satoru? i cant hear you~ what did u say~?"

as soon as u teasingly said that you fastened the pace and your thrusts became harder

"istg you're-ahn d-doing it on purpose w-wait noooo-ahnnn ♡"

"did i hit the spot? hmm~?" saying that while leaning and whispering into his sensitive ear sent shivers down his spine.

"i-i dunno-ohh~ ♡"

"stop acting like a brat and answer me"

you then pushed ur dick as deep as possible in his soaking wet hole which made him moan loud and roll his eyes back trying to process the amount of pleasure you are giving him.

"...ood"

"hmm?"

"i-it f-f-feels good~♡ ur dick feels so fucking good nghh~"

at this point you knew better than anyone that when satoru starts talking like this it means that his mind now is only full by u . ur dick pleasuring him to be exact. you felt him tighten around your cock which means he was on the verge of coming so, like the teasing and mean person you are ,u purposely slowed down the pace .

however to ur surprise satoru couldn't take ur torturing anymore and decided to shamelessly rock his hips back and forth trying to reach his high.

u couldn't help but chuckle a little at the sight in front of u then u went as deep as possible again with only one rough push.

"this is what u want?"

"harder~♡"

"u slutty sorcerer seducing me to this empty toilet right after our mission i guess all u were thinking about was my cock eh"

satoru responded while struggling with each word to form because he was a moaning and a panting mess :"but i-ngh i couldn't help it i suddenly felt super horn-!!!??"

"hello? anyone here? satoru san ? y/n ? did they just leave me and went home?"

right before satoru was about to cum you got interrupted by the other sorcerer that finished the mission with u you were inside the toilet stall so he didnt notice u

satoru whispers to u :"hey what do we do now ?"

even at this moment you couldn't help but look at satoru who was trying to stop his heavy breathing or else he will get caught. looking at his red nape full with your kiss marks made you even harder inside him which made him twitch and give you a glare to stop whatever ur doing

but who can even endure this sexy man in front of him blush reaching his back and ears and that ass that keeps clenching on you because he was about to cum before being interrupted

he turned looking at you with trembling voice :"s-stop it"

"f/n? did u not go home?"

"oh u were here after all i was waiting for u where is satoru san ?"

"u idiot!!w-what ? mmm♡ f-fuck u"

as soon as u told ur friend that u were inside the stall u started to thrust inside satoru making him choke a moan and precum dripping on the stall's door

"oh satoru? hmm i dunno where he is "

saying that while being balls deep inside him while sliding a hand to tease his nipples making it harder for satoru as it is already

suddenly satoru's phone start vibrating inside his pocket

the vibrations made him clench into ur cock so hard as if he was milking u

"huh isn't this satoru's phone? i know his ringtone"

as soon as satoru heared the sorcerer outside the stall the fear of getting caugh turning into pleasure since he wasn't in his right state of mind making him cum all over the door and some got on his underwear at this point it became torture for u as well u put ur hand into his mouth and flushed the toilet to make some noize to cover the last thrusts's sounds into his already wet ass making u cum inside him while biting his nape and covering his mouth to suppress the moans from both of u at this point satoru was coming for the second time but this time he had a dry orgasm since he had already came seconds ago

"haaa- i-ngh i told u to stop fucking me after i come im sensitive fuck-"

"f/n satoru left his phone with me but i think he forgot it and just went home u can go back home too i thing i got a stomachache im not getting out soon *fake crying*"

"omfg lol thats lame ok ok im going home then see u around"

"yea byee"

as soon as he left satoru sat on the toilet trying to cool down after the intense sex u had

"ur unbelievable what if he had found up"

"he wont be able to because he is oblivious af plus stop acting tough u also liked it no? *sliding finger on his lower stomach*"

he just turns his face away and u can see his face red u giggled and said "next time u ask for my cock be ready for the consequences satoru♡"

#sub gojo #dom reader #male reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu smut

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in1-nutshell · 8 months

Note

Hellooo :)

Wanted to ask if you can write a Predacon Buddy version/AU? In my idea their alt mode would be similar to a Night fury from How to train your dragon/HTTYD. I'm imagining a mix between movie 1 Toothless personality and movie 3 Toothless personality mostly.

Buddy being very playful and outgoing even as a Predacon, play fighting with Skylynx and/or Darksteel and teasing Predaking by laying in his lap (can we call it that?? I dunno. I mean his front legs) and placing their paws/claws on Predakings snout. Or simply stealing his Energon/prey/whatever he eats for a chase?

Buddy, despite being with their pack most of the time, sometimes ends up with the Autobots. Nobody knows how or why. Buddy, being in their alt mode, just one day chilling in the Autobots base as the bots come back from a mission (Ratchet left for too). The bots just walk in and see a fragging Predacon chilling in the middle of their base like- THE FRAG?? HOW DID THAT GET IN HERE??!

Please do it with the Autobots and Decepticons if that's alright!!

I love your writing SO DAMN MUCH ♥️♥️

PS Sorry for any spelling mistakes!

Thank you for the complement! And don't worry too much about spelling mistakes, we all make them!

Predacon Buddy's are slowly becoming a common theme here.

Hope you enjoy!

Bot Buddy the Night Fury Predacon with Bumblebee, Smokescreen, Predaking, and Soundwave

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Cybertronain reader

TFP

Shockwave doesn’t really know what happened to this Predacon when they came out of the test tube.

He blames Starscream.

Does Starscream have anything to do with this?

Maybe. He seems like the most logical suspect.

Buddy came out small, cute, and curious. Already nipping at Cons pedes when they came to close with their retractable dermas.

Curiosity was a dangerous thing to have if left unchecked.

So, Shockwave did the only logical thing.

He gave Buddy to Predacon, Skylynx, and Darksteel to look after.

The three older Predacons had their servos full trying to take care of Buddy.

Which was mainly Predaking doing most of the work. He was the most responsible out of the group and their king, naturally he picked up this duty.

Draksteel and Skynx where in charge of playing with Buddy.

Curiosity led Buddy to find the empty Autobot base by accident.

Of course, they didn’t really care about this ongoing war.

Right now, they wanted some places with a warm spot, maybe something soft to cuddle.

Some stray beams of sunlight hit the floor of the base creating a lovely warm place to sleep. But they needed the soft thing now to make things complete.

A soft little gasp was heard behind Buddy as they turned around quickly baring their retractable dermas.

They quickly put them away seeing a small human boy frozen in place. The weird looking frames on his face intrigued Buddy as they crept closer.

Raf just stayed still not knowing what to do.

Buddy vented out roughly knocking Raf’s glasses off his face which caused him to fall to the floor.

Buddy softly pocked at Raf’s hair.

Finally! The soft thing has been found!

Buddy carried Raf by the helm of his shirt and moved to the warm spot, circled around the place before plopping down.

Raf was trapped in between Buddy’s helm and front servos as they snuggled up to him before falling into recharge.

This is what Raf gets for staying at the base for 5 minutes alone.

Miko was never going to let him live this down.

For now, he figured he wasn’t in danger, and the small dragon was warm… and he didn’t get much sleep lately…

Raf was out like a light before he knew it causing Buddy to snuggle even further into their new favorite human.

Team Buddy duty

These bots were supposed to be watching Buddy. Buddy wasn’t supposed to leave the Nemesis until they had orders to go otherwise. Are they panicking when they can’t find Buddy on the ship? Who’s going to tell them in their face without risking the consequences?

Predaking

Soundwave

Team that’s about to have a break down

These bots are very concerned in finding Buddy. Whether it be in the base sunbathing with their new favorite human or just gliding back from a long day of flying, these bots are about to lose it. They are just glad that no one got hurt by the end of the day.

Bumblebee

Smokescreen

Predaking

#transformers #transformers x reader #maccadam #bot buddy #tfp #tfp x reader #tfp predaking #tfp soundwave #tfp bumblebee x platonic reader #tfp bumblebee #tfp soundwave x platonic reader #tfp smokescreen

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thisthatpinkvenom · 1 year

Text

FREE CINNAMOROLL HUGS FOR YOU

DAD!SEONGHWA / MOM!FEM READER

⤏ Synopsis: Seonghwa's always there when you're in dire need of a hug; especially when it finally hits you that your daughter is growing up fast.

⤏ Genre(s): drabble*, fluffity fluff fluff

⤏ Content: established relationship!au, parents!au, non-idol!au

⤏ NSFW Warning(s): none

⤏ Note*: this content is completely fictional.

It was nearing nine o'clock when Seonghwa stood outside the classroom where four and five year olds trickled in one by one; Spider-Man, Hello Kitty and a few other familiar icons making appearances on their miniature backpacks. He looked at the small Cinnamoroll backpack that hooked around his two fingers by its handle loop, a melancholic smile making its way onto his face when his eyes found sight of the small girl who stood three heads shorter than him. There's not an inch of personal space between the two of them as she idled between his parted feet, eating away at her fingernail while she quietly observed the kids whom she had to call her classmates in the next few minutes. Seonghwa clicked his tongue softly, and pulled her hand away from her mouth.

"Don't bite your nails, Yuha."

He dangled the backpack in front of Yuha and left gentle taps on her arm, waiting for her to stretch her arms for him to slip the straps onto her shoulders. And before he could, she spun on her heel and dove face-first against his tummy, basking in the comforting scent of her father's cologne. Seonghwa's button-up was soon dampened by the tears decorating his shirt and Yuha's backpack dropped to the floor just as his knee did. And he tried—he really did—not to shed tears of his own as he listened to his baby wail into his shoulder.

"Daddy, d-don't leave me!" she pleaded, nuzzling her sniffling nose into his neck.

"I'm not leaving you, Baby," he assured her, "I'll come back for you in a few hours." His hand smoothed over her back as he swayed her side to side, the other cradling the back of her head.

"Why can't I be with you?" Yuha croaked when she faced him, her eyes puffy and glistening under the fluorescent light. Seonghwa sighed and cupped her small face in his hands, his thumbs battling the continuous trails of tears pouring onto her cheeks.

Seonghwa tried explaining in the simplest way he could and murmured, "Daddy has to go to work, Yuha. It's big grown-up stuff…it's not fun."

Yuha looked down at her feet, finding temporary solace in her similarly matching Cinnamoroll crocs. The white dog smiled warmly at her from below, his bright blue eyes and pink cheeks never failing to spark a tinge of happiness in her. He'd always reminded her of her father: quiet, but good and helpful and liked taking naps.

"I'm scared…" she mumbled, once she gathered the courage to look back up. "I dunno anybody."

He nearly melted into mush right there on the spot, brushing the strands of hair let loose to the back of her ear.

"You have to start somewhere. Mommy and I were so nervous to meet you for the first time and look at us now. It's okay to be scared, but it'll go away if you want it to."

She perked up at his word of advice, tears becoming obsolete as her eyes began to glint a promising sparkle in them instead.

"Really, Daddy?"

He hummed and reassured her, "You're a good kid, Yuha; I know you can make a friend. And if you don't make one today, well…that's okay, try again tomorrow. You can always try again."

"Okay," she said, meekly. A small smile crept onto his lips before he enveloped her into another tight embrace.

"Now, don't cry anymore, okay? You're a strong girl—just like Mommy," Seonghwa whispered, patting Yuha's back.

He felt her firm nods against his shoulder before he pressed a kiss to her cheek, picking up her backpack and finally fixing it behind her. Yuha's tiny hands gripped her shoulder straps as she recited words of encouragement under her breath, her eyes finding purchase in her foam shoes again. They soon followed the trail which ended where her father's face resided, and his warm smile forever engraved itself in the back of her mind, ready to appear whenever she found herself in distress. Without a word, she lifted her arms and waited with small, antsy steps in her place and like he's read her mind, she's hoisted into his arms.

"Did I not give enough hugs?" he asked with a playful lilt in his tone.

Yuha huffed, "No, never."

"Yep"—he chuckled—"you're just like your mommy…"

"And she really cried yesterday?" you asked, searching for confirmation in Seonghwa who hummed. You frowned, trudging to your shared bed where your husband was settled upright. If you weren't so caught up in reliving how your daughter ran into her classroom this morning without so much so looking back at you, you'd take more than just note of the glasses fashionably sloped down his nose while he read a news article on his phone. Sometimes, you couldn't believe this man really made a baby with you and was the extra source of warmth in your bed every night. You must've done something great in your past life, that's for sure.

And when you flopped next to him on your belly, he let out a passive laugh and placed his hand on your bottom.

"What's the matter, Baby?"

You flipped onto your backside, staring at the little nooks and crannies of the popcorn ceiling.

Sighing, you confided, "She didn't do that with me today."

Seonghwa shifted in his place, looking at you with an incredulous stare. Meeting his eyes, you pouted and let out another sigh.

"What? Don't give me that look, Hwa."

"You're saying you wanted her to cry?"

"It's not that, I"—you pinched your nose bridge—"she just gave me a little hug and ran off. She wasn't being a baby, Hwa." Your husband found it to be difficult to contain the amusement threatening his lips as he listened to your voice crack and your words quake. "I-I mean, my baby wasn't being my baby," you whimpered.

"Aw...Honey, she is," he cooed, inviting you with opened arms to which you accepted in the next sniffle you made. "Not like she's doing taxes, she's still learning one plus one—"

"By the time we both blink, she will be!" you whined into his chest.

"We'll get through this, Baby. You're strong," he gently hushed you, aware of the time as the darkness washed over the sky. Brushing his fingers through your hair while he listened to your staggered breaths, he chuckled. "Can you loosen your grip a bit?"

You huffed, "No."

Like mother, like daughter.

#ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez timestamps #ateez angst #ateez fluff #ateez x reader #ateez drabbles #ateez smut #seonghwa scenarios #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa smut

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fallinforerling · 2 years

Note

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMY5KHJVr/

just imagine that you're in something with Erling and he sees a story/post about you with a man from your group friend and him being like " what's this ????" and feeling insecure, and then telling him "I don't care about him, I only care about you"

aaaaaa sorry for the rambling, hope you're having a good day <3

the status | e.h

ೃ⁀➷ erling's taglist

ೃ⁀➷ erling's masterlist

ೃ⁀➷ masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You knew Erling too well. You noticed every little demeanor about his behavior that gave away certain emotions, especially when he didn’t liked something, and because of this, you noticed that something was really bothering him right now.

You eyed him again across the kitchen, still cutting some vegetables while trying to figure out what could be the possible reason for his annoyance. He looked amazing, even fresh out of the shower. Something about the slick back hair and the simple clothes he used around the house were so attractive to you that it was inevitable to eye him from time to time. That’s how you noticed he wasn’t annoyed five minutes ago. Something happened.

“Everything okay, babe?” You asked after a while, noticing how his shoulders went a little stiff, his brows furrowed while looking up from his phone.

You both exchanged looks before he shrugged, locking it.

“Uh, yeah, yeah… I’m perfect.” His tone was so serious, going perfectly along with his poker face, that you had to physically stop yourself from laughing right there.

Instead, you just arched an eyebrow in his direction, continuing your tasks of chopping vegetables and stirring the pot, hearing from time to time a huff or a sigh coming from Erling, making you smile a bit. Sooner than later…

“Can I ask something?” He said then, still flat-toned. You pursed your lips, trying very hard to stay serious when you looked up from the pot.

“Sure, what’s up?” His eyes followed your movements as you dried your hands and made your way around the counter to his spot. With you standing and him sitting on a stool, you barely made it to his shoulder. He was looking down at you with an illegible expression. “What is it?” You caressed his cheek, wanting to know why he seemed so upset.

Your touch had some effect because his gaze and posture relaxed. You made your way between his legs, hugging his waist as tightly as possible, looking up at him with a half-smile; you wanted to reassure him that you were there to listen.

“I just..” He began, sighing. “I dunno, I saw something that made me a little bit… Look, I don’t want to sound like a jealous prick or something, but…” He ran his hands through his hair, looking frustrated. “Are you, like… Seeing other people?”

The question shocked you a bit, but you couldn’t get really offended by it. You two weren’t exactly a couple, but your relationship wasn’t just a friendship. It was something in between that stressed you from time to time. You kept staring at him, trying to figure out where did that question came from.

“No?” You didn’t want to sound like you were confused, but… You were. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, uhm… I know we haven’t said anything about exclusivity ever, but I was wondering if…” He paused at the last second, biting his lip before shaking his head. “You know what? Let’s just forget that I said anything, ok? It’s dumb.”

“No! It’s not dumb. C’mon! What is it, Erling?” You shook him a bit, eager for whatever answer he was going to give you.

Why was he talking about exclusivity all of the sudden?

“Okay, okay! Here.” He took his phone again, typing for a few seconds before showing you the screen.

You squinted at first, unable to see clearly what was on it given how close it was to your face. After a minute, you saw a post on Instagram. The photo seemed familiar, and your brain took a while to recognize various of your friends' faces. Then it hit you: it was Brad’s post from his birthday earlier in the year. You didn’t saw anything particularly strange until you considered Erling’s point of view. You were almost sitting on Brad’s lap, making a kissing face toward his face.

“Oh…” A light blush started to cover your cheeks. Your eyes made it back to Erling’s face, who was looking back at you with puppy eyes. “That.”

“Yeah?” He seemed anxious for an answer, biting his lip again. “Then? Are you going out with him?”

“My god! No, no. I’ll never date Brad, gross!” You said immediately, wrinkling your nose at the mere thought of Brad being romantically close to you. “He’s just a friend. It was his birthday… Wait, how did you find that photo? It was at the beginning of the year!”

“Uh… I dunno, I was checking your tags?” He looked guilty, which made you laugh a bit. “I’m sorry, I just got a bit curious…”

“Don’t be sorry.” You hugged him again, kissing his neck in the process. “And, no. No dating Brad nor anyone else for that matter.”

“Well, are you sure he doesn’t want to? Seems like both of you are pretty close…” He frowned again, covering his eyes with one hand after saying it. “God, sorry. I just can’t stand the idea of someone else… I’m sorry.”

“Babe! Stop saying sorry!” You took his hand, kissing it as well, just to have more physical contact with him, trying to reassure him in any way possible. “Let’s not talk about him, okay? I only care about you. I’m not dating anyone else, and I don’t want to.”

“Really?” His tone sounded hopeful, which broke your heart a bit. “Are we… dating-dating?”

You smiled, noticing how dumb it sounded to just ask something that at all times was obvious. You gave him a little peck before answering.

“What are we doing here if not dating, love?” You giggled when his face just gave away confusion, excitement, and shyness that weren’t typical of him. “Do you want me to officially ask you to be my boyfriend?” You teased him, enjoying how he blushed and looked away from you.

“Oh, shut it.” You both laughed before he held you closer, kissing you multiple times. “I think dinner is about to burn, baby.”

“What?!” You panicked, looking back at the stove, where your pot was safe but seemingly in danger of spilling all over the counter. “Fuck! Let me get that.”

He let you go, laughing when you gave him a serious look, thanking every God that you still had a dinner to serve.

“Ah, what a girlfriend I have, huh?”

“Oh, now you shut it, Haaland!”

But you couldn’t be more grateful for his laugh and your newfound relationship status.

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oikasugayama · 9 months

Note

Jouno x reader ... Listen... Ahem...

Pussy slapping.

- 🧁

(MDNI) OKAAAAAY OKAY OKAY so i had to do a little *ahem* research because i was thinking of something a little more intense and it was NOT clicking, but jouno cupping his hand just a bit and smacking quick not-too-hard-but-still-firm swats against his partner's pussy to 1. give her clit little shocks of stimulation and 2. mimick the feeling of his balls/hips hitting against her while he fucks her...... YEAH. yeah he's into that and his partner becomes into that and it's HAPPENING.

afab reader insert below the cut

he likes it because he can't see your pussy. he likes having his hands on it and his mouth on it so he can map it out in his mind. He likes how squishy it is when he smacks it--there's a cushiony feeling and his hand almost naturally springs back after he smacks it.

it starts a while after you've started having sex--he doesn't throw it on you right away, but it does kind of come up naturally. as you get more and more comfortable having sex together, he slowly gets more and more dom-y, more teasing with more vicious words, more edging, demanding more of your body which he insists is always for your pleasure.

he's not so sick or twisted that he'd want to torture you in bed--he tells you very firmly that if you say the word "stop" he will literally launch himself off the bed and stop touching you immediately. you've yet to utter that word, only occasionally having to tell him to slow down or give you a second to adjust.

the first time he slaps your pussy is when you cum on his cock despite him telling you that you better hold off, you better find a way to make it not happen because he doesnt want you to cum yet, but you can't do it, it hits you like a truck and you spasm around him, arching your back up and clawing at the skin on his shoulders where you hold him.

he groans and scowls and pulls out of you, sliding his hand down your body until it cups your pussy. you flinch, clenching and whining about the sensitivity

"not even an apology for disobeying me," he mumbles, swinging his hand back and landing a direct hit on your pussy, one of his fingers flicking your sensitive clit. you squeal and jump and moan, surprised at how good the sting feels. if it were a slap on the face it would be quite weak, hardly enough to turn your head-- if it were on the ass, it'd be pitiful. but on your pussy, it's perfect, just the right amount to sting your labia which leaves a tingling, tickling after-effect. and the shock to your clit is delectable.

"mm.. 'm not sorry." you say quietly, biting your lip and keeping your legs spread wide, wondering if you can get him to do that again.

Smack!

you moan again, rolling your head back against the pillows.

"you like that?" he asks, smacking again. "can't believe you're into getting your pussy slapped." Smack!

Smack!

"feels good," you admit, whining deep in your throat as you feel the potential for another orgasm start to build.

"oh yeah?" Smack! "Think you could cum from it?" Smack!

"I dunno..."

"then we're going to find out, aren't we?"

He talks to you through a few different phases-- first is the intermittent smacks with some teasing and clit rubbing. It's good, and obviously the clit rubbing could get you to cum, but you want more smacking. You want the tingle and the feel of his hand on you.

So he tries a few types of slaps-- some harder, some higher, some more directed, some with less purpose, some in quick succession.

finally you both find the sweet spot.

He slaps your pussy as if we were fucking you. He keeps time, keeps his smacks even and on target. Smack, smack, smack, smack, smack. You moan and squirm more, telling him it's good, he can keep going, it's good, it's really good.

You selfishly wish he could see the fucked out look on your face or the way you start squeezing and playing with your tits to give you some extra stimulation as you start edging closer and closer.

"'m not gonna be able to cum from this alone, I don't think," you admit after a while, when you're so close to a climax without being able to fit that final stretch to the peak. "can you eat me out?"

"oh, with pleasure," he says, rubbing a soothing hand over your red, throbbing pussy as a means to guide his face down to you. He licks up your slit, collecting so. much. wetness. that he manages to open his mouth and let it dribble down onto your clit.

"god damn you like that, huh? filthy slut." you can practically hear the smile and excitement in his voice "'m gonna fuck you so good, god damn."

he licks your clit in circles for a few seconds before giving it wet, open-mouthed kisses that end in his slurping it between his lips. you buck your hips up at the intense feeling, and he pushes your hips down, so you grab his head and push it down too.

if there's one thing he can do, it's take a hint.

he eats you out fast and messy then, slobbering all over your clit as he flicks his tongue as fast as he can over it. he slips two fingers in your wet, welcoming cunt and moves them fast, timing his tongue and fingers together so you feel so good, so tense, like you're winding higher and higher and higher and--

"oh fuck!!! jouno!! fuck!! oh, baby, fuck meeeeeeee..."

you yell and writhe and your voice cracks and it turns into a long, drawn out whining moan as he fucks and sucks you through another orgasm, leaving his face and hand and your entire crotch wet and sticky

#ask answered #it's oral season apparently bc i'm about to write dazai oral and i wrote chuuya oral yesterday #🧁 anon #welcome cupcake anon hello hello!!!#jouno smut #jouno x reader #jouno headcanons #bsd x reader #bsd smut #bsd headcanons #hunting dogs x reader #hunting dogs smut #hunting dogs headcanons

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sugawhaaa · 1 year

Text

Gaon one-shot

"I may or may not have lost my ring"

Paring::dom!Jiseok x sub!fem!reader

Warnings::smut

Word count::1,034

Genre::established relationship, smut, fingering, soft

~Not proof read~

A/N:: I cannot believe how many notes I got on my emo boy beomgyu fanfic!!!! And it such short time?!?!?! Tysm 😭

Song to listen to while reading::

Jiseok's fingers went in and out of you faster than you ever imagined. He kept repeatedly hitting your G-spot making you moan continuesly. As his fingers reached deeper and deeper into you, you felt your body getting tense and warm.

"Jiseok, I think I'm gonna cum," you barely moaned out as he curled his fingers in the most star seeing way possible.

"I want to see how good I make you feel baby," he smirked as he whispered in your ear, his hot breath present in your ear. Lord and behold you came with a moan. Jiseok praised you more than you thought he could as his fingers basically just stayed in their place inside you. Once you calmed down jiseok took his hands off of you and went to snuggle you in your bed. As he was pulling up the blankets his eyes widened as he looked at his hand. Meanwhile you had your eyes closed and were focused on sleeping. Gaon frantically looked through the bed making you open your eyes "Jiseok what are you doing?" You grumbled.

"Well…I may or may not have lost my ring," He said as his cheeks started turning red.

"When did you last have it?" You said sitting up.

"Before you came for the third time…" he said, biting his lip nervously. Your jaw dropped.

"Do you think it…?" You said resting your arms around your stomach as Gaon nodded his head.

"Maybe?" Jiseok said before biting his lip nervously again. You started panicking. "Will it come out if you go to the washroom?" He said with a little bit of hope in his eyes.

"No, that's not how it works," you laughed.

"I didn't think so," he sighed "well then there's only one way to get it back," he said, getting on top of you again.

"What do you mean!?" You said closing your legs tightly.

"I don't want a metal ring stuck in your body for the rest of your life!" He exclaimed.

"I can get it out myself!" You said tucking up your legs. Gaon's face seemed shocked and red. You blushed and looked away from him.

"I just think I have a better angle…"

"What!?!"

"I'm just saying!!"

The two of you bickered before deciding Gaon was right. You hung your head low in embarrassment. You watched as he inserted two fingers back into you. You bit your lip harshly as his fingers searched around your insides. You tried not to moan as much as possible, it was embarrassing! All he was trying to do was get his ring back, but instead he was over stimulating you. You felt yourself already starting to cum again, the way he curled his fingers in an attempt to feel the ring made you see stars.

"I have an idea…" Gaon said as he pulled out his fingers depriving you of your release. You tried to cover up the fact that this whole situation feels amazing to you.

"Yes?" You said as he started sitting up again.

"Why don't we use a metal tracker?" Jiseok grinned and you smacked his arm.

"Not funny Jiseok!" You said while laughing.

"But seriously, if I dunno you cum again, it might be easier to find it," he said waiting for your approval of his plan. He wasn't wrong. It would probably help, it's just a matter of how much you have left in you. You nodded.

"That's true…" you said, putting a finger to your chin "what are you waiting for?" You smiled at him and he nervously went back to searching. Jiseok's facial expressions changed very quickly as he explored you. How is this so difficult? I mean there's only so much space that it could've gone…Unless it was already out of you?

In the middle of your thought Gaon harshly pressed against your core making you release a loud moan before biting your lip again. Your eyes squinted shut as he repeatedly hit the same spot. With no luck of the ring he decided to go deeper. Your legs jerked, causing you to almost close them entirely before Gaon put his hand up to your thigh stopping you.

On impulse Jiseok started licking the inside of your thigh. The sensation of his warm tongue on your skin and his fingers so deep inside you they could reach your stomach. You grabbed his hair and tugged on it harshly. You muttered something under your breath that couldn't be heard by Gaon. He kept on reaching deeper inside you, you didn't even think it was physically possible to reach that far. You came all over him, soaking the sheets. Saying you came would be an understatement in this case.

Gaon looked up at you in shock as buried your face in the pillows.

"Was that supposed to happen…?" He said as he crawled up to you. You nodded with your face still in the pillow. Gaon seemed slightly worried that he did something wrong so you assured him.

"I squirted…it means you essentially did extra good,"

His face lit up at your words.

"What was that? Can you repeat that last part?" He said with a smirk as he leaned closer to you. You smacked him as you both laughed.

"Oh did you find your ring?" You said sitting up. He shook his head and you sighed. "I'm sure it's fine…well go to the doctor tomorrow," you shrugged. Gaon nodded as his head rested on the other pillow with his eyes shut. He seemed tired. You tucked his hair back behind his ear and kissed him on the head. "I need to run to the washroom. I'll be right back," you said, getting up and putting some shorts on.

"Okay," Gaon mumbled. As you started walking to the doorway you stepped on something cold and circular. You looked down and saw Jiseok's ring. You picked it up and examined it.

"Jiseok!" You shouted making Gaon sit up and look at you.

"What!?" He said with panic written all over his face. You harshly pointed at the ring you were holding up for him to look at, with a stern face. He chuckled nervously with a shrug as you sighed.

Disclaimer~this is a complete work of fiction and is only intended for the imagination of Villains :)

Thank you for reading!!!♡

#xdinary heroes #xdh imagines #xdh smut #xdinari hero fanfic #xdinary heroes fluff #xdh #xdh fluff #xdh x reader #xh gaon #xh jungsu #kwak jiseok #o.de xdinary heroes #xdinary heroes gaon #xdinary heroes smut #xheroes #xh #Spotify

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 10 months

Text

Last Resort

Pairing: Benny ‘Borracho’ Magalon x Reader Rating: M

Warnings: Cursing, angst, fluff, reader is a little drunk, Reader and Borracho are exes; bittersweet ending

Notes: Idk, my brain spit this out. Enjoy. Not beta-read.

Summary: You glanced over, taking in the familiar slopes of his profile. He looked good—he'd shaved pretty recently, and you were almost sure you spotted a new streak of grey by his temple. Goddamn. There was no way that he'd gone out of his way to look that good just for you, but you could pretend, right? In that precise moment, it felt like being delulu was indeed the solulu.

"I shouldn't have called."

It wasn't an apology, because you couldn't bring yourself to apologize, not just yet. You knew that you'd technically done the responsible thing, called someone to pick you up rather than trying to get home alone—but fuck, you could've gotten an uber, a lyft, fucking something. Being drunk was an excuse, not a reason. Dialing your ex should've been your last resort.

But there you were, sitting in the front seat of your ex-boyfriend's car.

If Borracho looked at you, you didn't see it—you were too busy staring out of the passenger side window and wishing yourself back to the crowded curb outside of the club. The cigarette and weed smoke would've been unbearable, but fuck—at least you wouldn't be so close to him, smelling his cologne, hearing the murmur of his favorite music.

"...S'alright."

It was about as much as you'd gotten out of him when you'd been together, so why did it sting so goddamn much?

"Did I wake you up?" You hedged, "Take you away from anything...?"

"You mean anyone?"

Damn, he'd sniffed that out fast. Maybe you'd forgotten how sharp he was; maybe you were more tipsy than you thought.

"Whatever," You shrugged. "Did I?"

"No."

"Thought you might be on duty."

"You called because you thought I might be on duty?"

"No, just—When I called, it occurred to me that you might be."

"What would you have done if I had been?"

"Get an uber or something, I don't know."

"Why didn't you do that anyway?"

He sounded more curious than accusatory, but the question still made you slide down in your seat a little, shrinking under the weight of your guilt.

"...I dunno."

Borracho let it hang there. You glanced over, taking in the familiar slopes of his profile. He looked good—he'd shaved pretty recently, and you were almost sure you spotted a new streak of grey by his temple. Goddamn. There was no way that he'd gone out of his way to look that good just for you, but you could pretend, right? In that precise moment, it felt like being delulu was indeed the solulu.

Who did it hurt to pretend that Borracho still wanted to look good for you? That he wanted to see you like this as much as you'd wanted to see him? That when you'd been at loose ends, the only one of your friends that hadn't found someone to go home with, you'd thought of him, and only him—

Well. That last bit wasn't really pretending. You'd found yourself searching for your ex in the face of every stranger since you'd parted ways.

"Is there anyone for me to have pulled you away from?" The question left you before you could even think to stop it.

"Nope."

You thrilled with vindication for a single moment before he added, "You don't have anyone, either."

"What?"

He pulled the car to a stop at a red, turning to get a better look at you. His gaze swept over you, lingering on the length of your exposed thighs where they peeked out of your miniskirt before he met your eyes again.

"You're dressed to go fishing."

Fishing?!

"Oh—Fuck you," You spluttered, reaching for your door handle, only to hear the subtle snick of Borracho locking the doors and clicking on the child lock. "Let me out!"

"At least let me pull out of traffic," He argued, flicking the turn signal on, "You stumble out into traffic and get hit by a truck, I gotta make the report."

You folded your arms petulantly across your chest, glaring through the windshield as he pulled into a vacant strip mall parking lot. He unlocked the doors, and you hurried to get out, half-stumbling as your foot got caught in the footwell. You wobbled, catching hold of yourself on the door before you pulled yourself upright, slamming the car door shut behind yourself. You stomped over to a car stop and ignored your ass stinging as you plopped onto it, pressing your knees tight together and drawing your phone out. You could just get an uber from...Wherever the fuck you were.

You ignored the car door closing and plaintive sigh, followed by Borracho's footsteps.

"You can leave," You snipped as he stopped beside you.

"I'll wait until you get an uber."

"You don't need to."

"I'll feel better if I do."

"Whatever."

You swiped through your apps—crap, you deleted uber for space, didn't you? Fuck, now you had to redownload it with Borracho watching—

"Get back in the car."

"I'm fine."

"I'll shut up. Just get back in the car." He sighed again, crouching beside you. "C'mon, I'm already here—and it'll be cheaper."

...Well, that was true. Your girls night club tab had not been cheap. You cast a wary gaze toward Borracho, who held his hands up in surrender.

"...Fine," You grumbled. Borracho straightened, holding his hand out to you. You stubbornly ignored it and pushed yourself up from the car stop, wobbling before striding back over to his car and climbing inside. You put your seat belt on, sliding down in your seat again as Borracho climbed into the driver's seat and started the car back up.

You managed to keep your mouth shut for a whole block and a half.

"Fishing," You grumbled, "Fuck you."

"I know."

"I can do whatever the fuck I want—"

"I know."

"I can, you can. Whatever." You reached up, yanking the sun visor down and pushing aside the mirror cover. Oh—Damn, when had your mascara run? And why didn't he say anything?

"Your makeup wipes are still in the glove compartment."

You cast him an irritated look as you blindly reached down, yanking open the glove and feeling around for the familiar packaging. You tugged one out, raising it to your eyes and swiping away the run liner.

"You could've said something," You grumbled, sliding it further down and scrubbing off your lip products.

"Didn't think you'd want to hear them."

"So what'd you think I'd feel when I got home and saw all of the run makeup?" You looked over to see Borracho fighting back a grin and shrugging a shoulder. You scoffed a laugh, balling up the used makeup wipe and tossing it at him. "Fuck you!"

"Alright, alright," He waved the wipe away. "Still driving here."

You shut the mirror and visor, leaning back in your seat.

"...You have a good time, at least?" Borracho asked after a few moments.

"I guess. It was fine."

"Just fine?"

"Yeah, I mean. Standard." You considered for a moment. "I didn't really wanna go."

"Why did you?"

"Haven't gone out much lately."

"Why not?"

Why not. Probably because you're mutual breakup hadn't been all that mutual. Probably because whenever you went out with a guy and he mentioned a work function, your mind immediately sprang to hotel rooms, too much beer, scantily clad women. Probably because when you needed to get off, you still heard Borracho's moans in your ear, remembered the heated press of his body against yours.

You felt Borracho turn to look at you, and realized that you had been quiet for too long. You just shrugged.

"Busy with work, I guess."

Borraacho grunted on the other side of the car, muttering, "I hear that."

You smiled a little at the gentle commiseration, and made the mistake of glancing over just in time to see him turning the wheel single-handed. God—damn, but you missed those hands. You swallowed thickly, drawing in a deep breath.

"Y'okay?" He asked.

"I need something to soak up the booze."

"You gonna puke?"

"No."

"You sure?"

"Yes," You rolled your eyes. "I may piss you off, but I wouldn't throw up in your car on purpose. I know how much you love this thing."

Borracho didn't answer for a few moments, and when he did—

"Yucca fries?"

"Ugh, fuck yes."

"Quit hogging the chipotle mayo," You grumbled. Borracho grunted, holding out the little plastic container for you. You shoved your fry into it, scooping out a frankly ungodly amount, and ignoring that dollops that slipped onto his knuckles. You shoved the fry into your mouth, watching him raise his knuckles to his lips and sweep his tongue across the fallen sauce before he dropped the plastic into the to go back. You looked away hurriedly, stomach flipping at the sight. You took the bottle of water out of the cup holder and taking in a deep swig.

"Careful," Borracho grumbled. "You said you're not gonna be sick—"

"I'm not you fucking—" You shove the bottle back into the holder. "Anal-retentive shithead—"

"—Emphasis on the anal—"

"Shut the fuck up!" You spluttered a laugh, shoving your hand back into the to go bag.

"Okay," He muttered, "You good?"

"Yeah."

"Buckled up?"

"Mhm."

Borracho started the car back up, pulling out of the parking lot and steering the car toward the street. You reached into the bag, fishing past the little plastic container for the rest of the fries.

"Want another one?" You asked.

"Sure."

You held it out, keeping it steady as Borracho turned his head, biting off half of the fry. You popped the second half into your mouth, reaching into your bag for another one.

"You on shift at all tonight?" You asked.

"Tomorrow."

"Mm."

"That okay with you?"

You rolled your eyes. "None of my business what you do."

"No?"

"Not anymore."

"Why'd you ask, then?"

"Just trying to gauge how bad I'm fucking up your sleep schedule."

"I'll recover."

"Good for you."

"Early morning for you?"

"Yep."

"Better pound that water."

"I'll be fine."

"If you say so."

You reached down grudgingly, taking up the water again and drawing in another few gulps.

"Happy?" You asked.

"Whatever."

You shook your head, setting the near-empty bottle down in the cup holder. You felt oddly melancholy as Borracho turned down your street. You reached down, taking hold of your purse and undoing your seat belt as he pulled the car into the hydrant outside of your place. You began to gather up the trash, but he waved you off, urging,

"I've got it."

That was new. Still you nodded, looking at your lap. What else was there to do but get out of the car? Nothing—So why weren't you doing it?

"Everything okay?" Borracho asked softly, spurring you into embarrassed action.

"Mhm! Thanks, for the, uh—Thanks."

You got out of the car, gingerly shutting the door behind yourself and hurrying up the steps and not daring to look back as you got inside.

The clamor of office was nothing new, but it wasn't helping your hangover. You winced behind your sunglasses as the florescent bulbs overhead seemed to pulse with your headache. You ignored the faux-scandalized ooos that chased you to your desk.

"Lookin' a rough there, mama," Henderson taunted.

"Yeah, cause you're a saint and a goddamn daisy," You snipped in turn. You ignored the surrounding mocking cat-yowls and laughter, the sound of the chair of the opposite yours being drawn out. You glanced doggedly toward your partner.

"Borracho."

He gave you small nod, a flat, "Detective," Before shifting his full focus to his computer. You drew in a deep breath, reaching for the file nearest you.

God, you hated Mondays.

Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @recklessworry ; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ; @lorecraft ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @thesandbeneathmytoes

#Benny Borracho Magalon x Reader #Benny Borracho Magalon x You #Benny Borracho Magalon/Reader #Benny Borracho Magalon/You #Benny Borracho Magalon fic #Benny Borracho Magalon imagine #Last Resort

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piastrinorris · 2 years

Text

The Buffer

Pairing: Eddie Munson x gn!Reader (no gendered terms/pronouns)

Genre: fluff, tiny little smut mention at the end

Word count: 5k

Summary: Chrissy just wants to play wingwoman. If only the two people in question weren't so clueless.

A/N: Writing Chrissy is so fun. I hope I've done her justice.

Being friends with most of the school newspaper had its perks and its penalties. Pro: you get all the hot gossip before it hits the shelves of the school store. Con: whenever there is a big scoop and they have to work through their lunch break, yours becomes far more lonely. Usually you can find someone to sit with, but today you just so happen to prefer your own company.

Coincidentally, today is the day Chrissy Cunningham decides to sit at your table. "Hi!" she beams, setting her tray down, sitting down and then offering her hand out to you. "You don't mind if I sit here, right?"

Eyes narrowing, you take her hand warily. You've never heard anything bad about her, but you wonder why now, in your senior year, would she finally extend the olive branch? "You already made the trek all the way out here," you muse, and she giggles.

"Yeah, it's not my table but I thought, it's been a minute since we last talked and since your friends aren't here, I figured I could keep you company!" You can't get a read on her. She's the human equivalent of sunshine.

"That's sweet of you," you smile. "Yeah, it's the one downside of being on the outskirts of the school paper team," you shrug, and Chrissy nods in understanding. "Normally I'd find someone else to hang with, but I dunno, something told me to just sit here anyway."

Chrissy's eyes widen. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry, if you need some alone time I totally get that, I'm so sorry I assumed -"

"It's fine," you hold your hand out with a reassuring smile. "I'm actually glad you joined me."

She gasps exaggeratedly, pressing her palm to her chest and putting on a voice, "Who, li'l ol' me?!" You laugh, and she joins you. "Well, I would offer for you to sit with more of us, but some of the other girls are…"

"Say no more, I know how a lot of cheerleaders feel about me," you roll your eyes. "Nah, usually I'll go and sit with, like, the theatre kids, or those Hellfire boys, if I need a good book to read, they'll know."

"Oh my god, can I tell you something so bad?" She asks you with wide eyes and a hand over her mouth.

You look from side to side. "Bad, like… Like, scandalous or -?"

"Oh, no! Not at all! This is about me," she giggles. "Did you know that, up until a few weeks ago, I had no idea that Eddie the Fr… The one who plays Dungeons and Dragons," she quickly corrects herself before leaning in to whisper to you, "I had no idea that was Edward Munson from middle school."

"Girl," your eyes widen as you lean back and she holds her cheeks, laughing silently. "You mean to tell me you couldn't tell that Edward the metalhead became Eddie the metalhead?!"

"He had buzzed hair, I don't know!" She presses her fingers to her temples as her face cringes. "When he started talking about his band, it all came flooding back, and I felt so bad!" Her face starts to soften, though. She rests her elbow on the table and sits her chin on the palm of her hand, her fingers curling against her cheekbone. "He's kinda cute now, wouldn't you say?"

Of course she'd say that as you were taking a sip of your drink. Taken aback, your breath catches at just the wrong moment and you start sputtering and coughing. She grimaces, though you can tell she's trying really hard not to laugh. When you finally catch your breath, you say, "Can't say I've noticed any difference."

That's not technically a lie. You liked Eddie in his buzzed phase. You liked him in his half-grown-out phase. You even liked him in his irons-his-hair-straight phase, though you're grateful that it looks far healthier now that he keeps it curled. And sure, maybe your heart skips a beat or two when he calls you over personally to sit with you, or points to an empty spot next to him (provided one of his "baby sheep" hasn't taken it already). So there's never been a difference to whether or not you'd thought him cute. But if Chrissy Cunningham is into him? Any shot you might have had if you'd had the confidence to do something about it is definitely out of the window.

And so you come to your conclusion. Clearly, Chrissy has seen that you and him are still somewhat friends, and clearly she wants you to play wingman. It'll sting, sure, but it's not like you were planning on making a move anytime soon.

"You don't think he is?" she asks with a slight frown. You're perplexed. Do you chase her off his scent, would that make things too obvious? Or do you encourage it, and risk her questioning your enthusiasm? Either way, the risk is there, and at least now you can live vicariously through her.

You shrug, "I mean, I didn't say that, he's just… I dunno. He's always been Eddie," you allow yourself a small, wistful smile for a few seconds, which is cut short by Chrissy noticing something behind you.

"Oh my god, shh-shh, there he i- Eddie!" The tonal change from being so hushed when she started talking to yelling and waving by the end hurt your ears.

Tray full of food in hand, he saunters over to you both. "Well, hello to you both," he balances the tray in one hand while doing a funny salute-bow motion with the other. "To what am I owed this pleasure?'

"Well, we were just catching up, since someone was sitting here all alone," Chrissy starts with a pout, and Eddie frowns, turning to you.

"Well, hey, you know there's always room for you with us, right? I know the boys tend to… Get excited and forget other people exist, but you just gotta be just as loud," he explains, his head shaking slightly.

You giggle, "It's been fun, actually, just me and Chrissy here. She's real fun to be with." You didn't realise quite how much saying things like that would sting, but you're here now. Hopefully it'll get easier with time.

"You should come sit with us!" Chrissy pats the table at the spot next to you. You turn your gaze quickly to your own meal, poking at the parts you're yet to eat. You conveniently miss Eddie and Chrissy's silent conversation of eye flashes, tiny gestures and facial expressions.

Eventually Eddie caves and slides into the seat next to you. Chrissy waves her hand towards her, "No, no, come closer! I don't want to have to yell." Even when making her demands, she's adorable. He should be putty in her hands within seconds. Then your work will be done.

Eddie slides his chair over, so his leg barely grazes yours. If you lean even the slightest amount, you can feel the chain on his jeans press into you. "So, what hot topic are we catching up on, then?" he asks.

"I was -" Chrissy collapses into laughter, which makes both you and Eddie smile. There's that sting again. "I was just talking about yo- how I didn't know you were you from middle school!"

"I mean, can you believe." Eddie deadpans, looking at you while gesturing with his open palm to Chrissy.

"Even you said, didn't you!" Chrissy continues, now also talking to you. "You said even you knew he was the same guy from middle school, it was just me!"

You shake your head in disbelief. "I can't believe it's just the hair that fooled you! I remember you in middle school having to move your ponytail so you didn't sit on it! This doesn't even look half as long!" You gesture towards her hair, and she giggles even more.

"Yours doesn't seem to have changed much though," Eddie muses, mouth half-full of food as he points his fork at you. You hate that you don't even find that repulsive.

"Nah, I've pretty much looked the same since the age of six, just stretched out in certain places," you shake your head, to a chorus of laughter from the other two. "Except for the few months I was missing a chunk out of it because I tried to bleach that one part with toilet cleaner." The pair of them hiss through their teeth in sympathy.

"I can do you one better than that," Eddie smirks. "Though it's not my story, guy I met at the Hideout one time. He had tried to bleach his hair at home, was told to wrap it in plastic and heat it up. So he takes a grocery bag -"

Your hands fly up to your face in shock. "Not one that had a logo on it!" Eddie presses his lips together and nods.

Chrissy whines, "Oh, no! So did it transfer onto his -" Eddie interrupts with another nod. "Noooo!"

"I so wish I could have seen it," Eddie laughs. "In Chrissy's defence, though, I didn't think I was all that memorable," he glances over at you.

You shake your head. "I’ll never forget the day you dressed up as a Hobbit for Halloween wearing sneakers with hair taped to them," you laugh, and Chrissy looks at you wide-eyed.

"Sorry, what?! Where was I?!"

Eddie laughs behind his hand. "Oh god, I thought nobody had noticed that! So - I wanted to give the outfit my full devotion, which meant walking around barefooted with extra hair on my fe- You asked!" Eddie exclaims as Chrissy cringes. "But the teacher told me I couldn't not wear shoes, so I had to keep it canon somehow. God, that teacher sucked," he groans under his breath.

"Oh, yes. How terrible it must have been for you to get dress-coded," you deadpan, and Chrissy joins in, once again trying not to laugh.

"You poor thing, Eddie. Having to be told to put shoes on, so oppressive."

"You guys are really coming for my jugular, huh? Last time I join you two." Thankfully, his tone doesn't sound serious.

"Aww, but who else is gonna come bowling with us after school?" Chrissy pouts. You give her a wide-eyed stare and she simply bounces her eyebrows up and down at you in response.

Eddie blows air between his lips in a rasp. "I dunno, you drive a hard bargain..."

"I'll buy you a portion of loaded fries," you offer, clearly understanding your place as the buffer, the third wheel.

Eddie slaps the table, "Now I'm sold!"

He and Chrissy set up a time and a place and you simply nod quietly in agreement. It’s their date, after all. You’re just moral support until it’s your cue to leave them to it.

Once he’s finished with his food, he nods over at his usual table. “S’pose I should go see my herd. I guess I’ll see you later on this evening,” he smiles before leaving you to join his friends.

Chrissy grabs your wrist, looking all excited. “Isn’t this awesome?! I thought that’d give us time to go to the mall first - don't sweat it, I'll drive us - find something cute to wear, and then we can start the journey over to the bowling alley!”

You’re not sure why you have to dress cute, too, but you assume she doesn’t want to potentially appear overdressed, so at least if you’re there and he’s underdressed, he’s in the minority. You let her have her little makeover moment - as much as it all hurts to help Chrissy live your dream, she's just too nice to direct any ill will towards.

When you meet up with Eddie, he has smartened up a little - he's wearing a plaid button-up, though you see his homemade Hellfire shirt peek out beneath it, and a leather jacket. He's absolutely beaming at the sight of you both - which if course he is, you're stood next to the most infectious smile in Hawkins. He greets you with the same motion he did in the cafeteria, “Long time no see,” he smirks. “Shall we?”

Eddie turns his nose up at swapping his Reeboks for “clown shoes”, while Chrissy notices that hers squeak if she slides her feet in just the right way and obsesses over it, trying to get a sound out of every step.

Chrissy insists on "ladies first" as she writes her name without hesitation. She writes yours next, then Eddie's. It goes about the same as any other bowling game - though when you revel in getting the first strike, Chrissy pulls you in for a hug and practically throws you at Eddie to also hug him.

He smells nicer than he does at school. You feel his laugh rumble in his chest, "Thank you? I'd put that down to Hawkins High smelling worse in general."

Shoot. You'd said that out loud. You play it off with a semi-awkward laugh and a, "Yeah, that's probably it!"

Eddie gets the next strike, and Chrissy ushers you forward first to praise him. This tactic, admittedly, just genuinely puzzles you. Does she just want to be the most recent physical contact of his? But then why wouldn't she do the opposite when you got your first strike? None of it seems to make sense. Is this why she needs a wingman? Do you need to step in and intervene? You offer him a hug identical to the one he gave, and as much as you try to keep it as brief as possible, you can't help but linger just a little.

You try your best to not play your A-game, giving Chrissy the chance to try and impress Eddie all by herself, but she keeps hyping you up just as much, if not more. You try and play off like you're at least mildly disappointed, and Eddie ruffles your hair sympathetically. You glare at him and he chuckles, "C'mon, you promised me fries, didn't you?"

The three of you share the food between yourselves, Eddie eating the most, which he'd predicted and already "repaid" for by buying all your drinks. Chrissy excuses herself to the bathroom, and Eddie spots you eyeing a nearby claw machine. "You know there's a trick to those, right?"

Your brow furrows. "Isn't it, like, random? When the claw actually grips or whatever?"

Eddie taps his nose knowingly, "Trust me. C'mon," he gestures with his head and you follow him over to it. "Pick one."

You raise your eyebrows. "You're that confident?!" He nods, and you press your forehead to the glass as you choose, "That one. Teddy bear, black and curly hair."

"Just like me," Eddie smiles, taking a final loud slurp of his drink followed by an equally loud gasp. "Stand back, please." You comply, hopping back to watch over his shoulder as he explains his actions. "See, you're not wrong, but you can increase your chances, thanks to a handy little friend called physics. If we just keep, it, moving," he punctuates every pause with the press of a different button, aiming the claw so that it starts to swing, "so that it still wants to swing even as it comes up," his voice drawls a little slower as the claw descends, clutching your preferred toy in its grasp, "and then when it does," he pauses for effect to show you the claw swinging on its ascent, "gravity should keep it central enough as it swings back and forth that it should… Fall…" He extends each word until it drops into the shaft, where he extends his hands out proudly, "Right where you want it."

Your eyes are wide, fixated on where the best now sits. "And yet it's taken you how long to get a D grade?!"

He laughs, "Listen, if physics was taught through hotwiring cars and figuring out arcade game mechanics, I'd be running that class. Same as how I can count a 7d6 roll in seconds, but long division? When am I ever going to use that again, you know?"

“You’re a smart one, Mr Munson,” you smirk as he takes the bear out and hands it to you. Your breath hitches as you feel his fingers brush against yours, and you chide yourself for getting so flustered, not only over someone who a separate person has sought your help to set them up with, but over an action so basic.

Chrissy suddenly appears, bouncing between the two of you. “Ooh, what are we up to?” she asks in a delighted sing-song.

“Just showing off my mad skills," Eddie beams, leaning against the machine and holding his arms out to point at himself proudly.

Slightly dejected, you hand the bear over. "Yeah, look, he won this for you!"

Chrissy looks at Eddie with a face you can't quite read. Like she's questioning him. He returns the expression, and Chrissy shakes her head. "You hold onto it for now, come get another drink with me!" Less of an offer, more a warning as she takes your wrist and pulls you over to the vendor again. "So, talk me through this," she says when you're both definitely out of Eddie's earshot. "How could Eddie have won something for me when I wasn't even there?"

You shrug, "I dunno, but it seems to be going well, right? So, you want me to get out of you guys' hair now, or…?" After that brief contact, you're ready to go home and just scream into your pillow for all eternity.

"Why would - Oh! Oh. Oh, no," Chrissy goes on a whole journey of expression, from curiosity to surprise to realisation to bursting into a fit of giggles. "No, no, oh my god. Did you think that I was - that you were -?"

You look at her, totally lost. "I'm going to need you to please finish at least one of those sentences."

Chrissy holds back a snort of laughter before ordering just two drinks. "Oh god, you two are just precious little disasters, aren't you?" Your eyes narrow, and she holds your arm gently. "Okay, so I'm going to be the one to go, now, because my role here was to try and push the two of you together."

Chrissy's words echo in your head. So many thoughts consume you. She notices this and, after taking both drinks, guides you over to one of the designated booths for food, also waving Eddie over. He walks up to where you both sit, opting for sidling into your side. "Do I get to be filled in on whatever's going on here, or…?" Eddie asks, waving between the three of you.

"So, debrief time," Chrissy starts, placing her hands on the table. "Maybe I'm not the wingwoman I thought I was." Eddie's eyes go wide for a second before his expression becomes one of confusion. She continues, looking straight at him, "I, uh, accidentally led your date on to believe that I was the one who wanted to come here with you. So,” she slides the cups over to your side of the table, “I'm going to go now, you two finish these drinks and go play the one more game of bowling I already paid for, and I'll see you guys tomorrow, 'kay?" With one more slap of the table, Chrissy stands up, slides out of the booth and leaves.

Eddie sucks on his straw nervously while you play with the teddy bear sitting in your lap. You're the first one to break the silent tension, "So. Never thought to just, ask me out?"

Eddie chuckles humourlessly. "You live the life that I have, and matters of the heart become an unattainable luxury." You rest your head on his shoulder comfortingly. "Although," he smirks, "if you had just asked me out, I wouldn't have been caught longingly gazing at you from afar by Chrissy Cunningham, of all people."

You laugh, "Shut up," But Eddie shakes his head, his hair tickling your face in the process. He notices, and tucks it behind his ear.

"It's true! Since all cards are on the table, Chrissy caught me looking over at you last week, before your theatre friends caught you, and then next thing I knew, I'm being flagged down by the two of you, who are suddenly best pals," he crosses his fingers together.

"And… How long before that?" You ask tentatively.

Eddie shrugs his shoulder to gently jolt your head. "Nuh-uh, your turn first, I've already embarrassed myself enough." As you lift your head, you notice a flush of colour adorning his cheeks.

You, too, immediately turn red enough to blend in with the Coca-Cola sponsored furniture. "Um, well… We never really talked in middle school, but I remember thinking you were really cute, with your hair just growing out and the - the handwritten shirts you used to make, I always thought they were cool. I told my best friends at a slumber party, and they said you probably wouldn't even give me the time of day; I was younger and not skilled in any way to play in your band, so they told me you wouldn't care." Eddie's brow furrows, but he lets you continue. "Then, freshman year, I'd tried to join the school paper with my friends, but it was so not my scene. And I didn't know where else to go, but you just… Took me in, just like that. I told myself I wouldn't screw this up, that I'd only act on stuff if I knew it wasn't going to make things weird. And now, ironically, here I am having the weirdest conversation of my life."

"So, good news about that, weird is kind of my thing," Eddie starts, amused. "You really liked me for that long, huh?" You nod, and he laughs. "So, whenever you would sit next to me on the bus, even when there were empty seats…"

You nod, cringing, "I thought that might be something, like the start of some kind of epic middle school love story, but you proved my friends right. You wouldn't even talk to me,” you shrug.

He smirks, "Because my freshly-teenaged brain had no idea how to approach the very first person he felt attracted to."

If this were a cartoon, there’d be steam blowing out from your ears, you’re that red. “Shut up,” you mutter with a shy smile, looking back down again at the toy in your lap.

“It’s true!” Eddie beams. “I just kinda thought that… I don’t even know,” he shakes his head. “I thought maybe you might be the one to bring up the fact that you would always sit next to me.”

“And I would always sit next to you in the hopes you would bring that up to me,” you giggle.

Eddie moves his knee to rest next to yours, “God, what a pair of idiots we were, huh.”

“Speak for yourself, I’m the one who didn’t even realise I was being set up on this date,” you admit sheepishly.

“I mean, there were moments today where I thought maybe I was the third wheel all along!” Eddie laughs. “So, I kinda get it.” He reaches over to gently poke at the bear. “Got a name for him yet?”

You hold it up onto the table. “Yeah, Teddy Munson, after his dad,” you gently nudge him with your shoulder and he laughs. “He’s got your hair.”

“Yeah, but he’s got his mom’s cuteness,” Eddie looks sideways at you, the smallest of smiles tugging at the corners of his lips.

Taken aback, you scoff, “Oh sure, now he’s smooth!”

Eddie’s loud laugh fills your ears, causing your smile to reach them, too. “Well, now he knows he’s got a shot. Better late than never, right?”

“In that case, you should know that I totally botched that last game on purpose,” you nod.

Eddie leans back in his seat, a cocky half-smile adorning his face as he looks at you with head cocked and an arm draped across the back of the booth seat. “Oh, yeah? Sure you did.”

“Sorry, remind me, uh, who was it that got the first strike? And then suddenly got way worse? How do you explain that?” you lean back to match his energy, the adrenaline of a half-lifelong crush finally being actively reciprocated charging you.

“I’d call that a fluke, but it’s okay. Whatever helps you sleep tonight,” Eddie’s arm reaches up to once again ruffle your hair. In doing so, he ends up at a closer proximity to you. Oh, you could just lean in a fraction and simply smooch his smug face clean off of him right there and then, but your competitiveness just gets the better of you.

“Fine. Chrissy said she bought us a game, right? Let’s go,” you gesture to the alleys, and he hops out of the booth by pushing himself up to perch his feet on the seat and then vaulting over the back. You clap at his acrobatics and he bows his signature bow at you, before offering his hand to help you out. You take it, carefully shuffling out of the booth while also holding the teddy to your chest, explaining softly, “I’m bearing precious cargo, here.”

Eddie snorts, “Bear-ing,” while pointing to him, and you roll your eyes. “C’mon, you love it,” he drawls as you jokingly start to walk towards the exit, but he tightens his grip on your hand and instead pulls you over to the counter. Apparently, Chrissy had already explained the situation to the girl who was working, having given her a brief description of who to look for.

You take on the responsibility of writing your names on the card beneath the projector, while Eddie drapes himself over you. With a laugh, you ask, "You good?"

"Who, me? Sorry, my presence isn't too distracting for you, is it?"

"So is your tactic to annoy all your dates, or am I just the lucky one?" You ask with amusement.

"Oh, yeah. you mean the absolute hordes of people just lining up for a night with ol' Eddie, you're gonna have to beat them all off with a stick if you want a shot!" He yells sarcastically as he dramatically prances around you, making you laugh harder.

"Right, but I can't be your first date, surely?" You ask. You've never seen him with anyone, but you never know. Maybe he's more of a casual guy. Maybe even this is casual. Maybe, considering how wrong you were about Chrissy, you should stop making your own assumptions and wait for him to tell you.

He shrugs, "I've been on plenty of double dates where I've been the buffer-slash-distraction, but I've never really clicked with any of those. Let me put it this way - I bully the people I hold dear to me, and you're the only date I've bullied."

"I think there's a compliment in there somewhere," you pull a face, eyes darting around as you try to piece his sentence together.

"Alright, hotshot, let's see what you got," Eddie smirks, patting your back.

"Ooh, he's a poet! Can I expect a Corroded Coffin song about me, soon?" You grin, picking out your preferred ball.

"Yeah, it's gonna be called Humble Pie, 'cause that's what you'll be eating soon," he pinches your nose between his index and middle knuckles before gesturing towards your lane. "The floor is yours."

Taking aim and bending low, you take the shot and nail it, watching all the pins fall with glee in your eyes. You swivel round to grin at Eddie, "See?"

"Yeah, yeah. Don't think I'm not onto your little distraction technique, bending that far just to bowl," Eddie raises his eyebrows.

You narrow your eyes, gesturing to the other lanes, “It’s a legitimate strategy, Eddie, look at everyone else.”

Eddie barely glances over at them before stepping towards you. “No, I think you’re definitely doing it on purpose.” He closes the gap between you, looking down as he drawls, “I’m onto you, kid.”

Yet again, you could just give into temptation, grab his face and kiss him. Let him think of nothing else for the rest of the game. But then, perhaps that’s his plan for you. Regardless of how the game goes, your flirting’s become a competition in itself now. And you’re going to win.

You do lean in. You watch his eyes flicker down, his lips twitch. And then you pinch his cheek, “Your turn, big boy.” You walk back to the bench, and take a little extra pride in the oooh you can hear as he blows a breath out while he watches you.

On every good shot you get, you gloat. On every bad shot you get, you completely avoid Eddie, despite him chasing you around to goad you. On every good shot of Eddie’s, you pull a sarcastic look at his celebrations.

On a particularly bad shot of Eddie’s, you pout as you tease condescendingly, “Aww, could somebody not keep the ball out of the gutter? Poor thing.”

“Alright, now I am gonna have to stop you there, unless you want all this to go to waste,” Eddie points out with another drawl.

“And why would it go to waste?” you ask, folding your arms. “That’d only be the case if we both forfeited, which isn’t -”

Eddie stands close to you to murmur, “Keep that tone of voice up, and I’ll be forfeiting us both into the back of my truck, if you catch my drift.”

Normally an admission like this would render you floored, but you’re competition-fuelled-adrenaline-filled now. You narrow your eyes, “Using theoretical sex as a distraction technique, Munson? A low blow, even for you.”

“God, you are doing so many things for me right now,” he growls. “And I’d show you how non-theoretical that promise is but, uh, I think Gramps and the crew might have something to say,” he jerks his head over to the team of older bowlers in the lane next to you.

You bite your lip. “Loser of the game has to get the winner off?”

“Deal.”

When Chrissy calls you up the next morning, you tell her of how you and Eddie kissed for the first time as a celebration of the result of that second match. You opt to leave out the part that took place inside the van, where Eddie came in his pants while moaning your name between your legs as he devoured you to your climax.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic

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