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ponderingmoonlight · 3 months

Text

Sanemi losing what is left of his patience when you get injured by a demon

Pairing: Sanemi x wife!reader

Word Count: 3k

Synopsis: Despite the fact that your husband is the opposite of your quiet and kind self, you love him dearly while Sanemi treasures you in a purely unique way. But even though you learned to love his rough side the way it is, you can't stop tears from falling when your husband loses it after you get injured by a demon

Warning: this is THE angst to fluff y'all, Sanemi is a rough but soft boi I'm so weak for him in this fic omgomgomg, been listeing to again by noah cyrus and lana del rey while writing this, injury + angst + near death experience

this might be my favorite sanemi fic coming from my own hands so PLEASE if you feel the same, I'm super thankful for a lil like, comment or even reblog. THANK YOU SO MUCH 🤍

Oh, it was never easy, being the wife to none other than the wind hashira. When you’re quiet he’s noisy, when you’re put together he’s all over the place, while you act loving and kind Sanemi shows his devilish side.

But there was not once a day that made you second-guess your decision, not a single moment that made you feel something apart from deep affection for that man. It doesn’t matter that you are the opposite of him in each and every sense. He’s yours. And you’ll forever be his.

“Sanemi!”

Your oh so sweet voice echoes like a well-composed melody through his ears, makes him forget the wave of anger that washed over him earlier. Just seeing you standing there in the yukata he gifted you years ago while holding a dish with ohagi in your hands allows him to forget all the shit that happened for a brief second.

“Didn’t I tell you that you aren’t allowed to overwork yourself?”, he grumbles before sitting down opposite of you.

You look as good as always with your hair well-brushed and kind eyes lit by the down-going sun. What would his life look like if it didn’t contain of coming home to you? You, his only ray of sunshine. You, the only one who’s able to calm his temper down. Just you, his beloved wife. Who would have thought that out of all hashira, he’d be the one who treasures his wife the most?

“It’s not me who is overworked, but you. Did you get bruised again?”, you question with your melodic voice.

“Nah, I’m fine.”

“Will you stay home tonight?”

“I definitely hope so. If that crow disturbs my sleep again…”

“You have an important roll to fulfil, as a hashira-“

“’It’s my honor to bring peace to those who aren’t able to look out for themselves.’ Yeah, I already know.”

In contrary to his harsh tone, his fingertips caress your cheek gently while his eyes soften in an instant. It was hard, learning how to read him. When you first met, it was not uncommon that you broke out in tears after he talked to you like that. But now, after 4 years of getting to know him, you never lose your kind smile.

“How was your day?”, he continues.

With a swift motion, he pulls you between his legs and presses your head against his bare chest while his strong arms keep you in place. This are the moments that make your life worth living. Just you and your husband, arm in arm, watching the sunset in nothing but peace and silence.

“I enjoyed the nice weather while taking care of the garden. The tulips look exceptionally beautiful this season.”

“They’ll never be as beautiful as you, though”, he replies with low voice.

If life could stay like that. Oh, what you’d give to never let go of him again…

-later that night-

“Wind pillar, wind pillar! An emergency occurred! Countless demons were spotted nearby! The demon slayer corps need your assistance-“

“Can you just shut the fuck up”, Sanemi mumbles while pulling you closer sleep-drunken.

Immediately, you are wide awake. Nearby demons?

“Sanemi, you need to get up. What if someone gets injured?”, you whisper into the dark night.

“So what?”

You stare at him through the veil of darkness, not daring to say another word. He will get up eventually. He always does.

“Urgh, fine…Time to kill some demons, then”, he finally grumbles and drags himself away from you in order to put on his uniform.

“You stay here until I get back. Even if our estate is build pretty safe and I’ll rip off the heads of the demons around first, I don’t want you to be out there on your own. Got it?”, he instructs you before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead like he always does.

“I will. Please be careful and watch out for yourself”, you whimper.

It’s a challenge to let go of him each and every night he is forced to leave. He might be a hashira, but what if he doesn’t return by sunrise some day? What if he meets an upper-ranked demon unexpectedly? Just when he’s about to leave, you grab his hand one last time.

“And don’t act reckless”, you add.

No matter how much it hurts to let go of his hand, you know you have no other choice. This is the life you chose, the price you have to pay in order to call that wonderful man your beloved husband.

“I can never promise you that”, he replies before leaving you alone in the now cold and awkwardly dark room.

Everything will turn out alright. It just has to…

You don’t know how long you’ve been awake already. Minutes? Hours? All you’re able to do is stare at the ceiling above, ears perking up with every minor movement of the trees outside. Surely, Sanemi will return soon. Being the skilled fighter he is, it normally takes him at most two hours until he returns with his sheets still a little warm. But aren’t those two hours over already?

Another noise outside catches your attention. Is it a tree again? You furrow your eyebrows, immediately sitting up straight while staring outside the window. No, this almost sounds like the whimpers of a child. A child outside at this hour?

You swallow hard. A child outside when there are demons reported around this area?

“P-please, someone help me! I-I’m so s-scared!”

Your heart drops to the floor. There is no doubt in the fact that this has to be a child. Your mind starts racing back and forth. It would be absolutely unacceptable to leave that poor soul out on its own, especially when you can’t know if the area is really free of demons. But on the other hand…You bite your lip when your husband’s words replay themselves in your head.

“No matter what happens when I’m gone. Don’t. Go. Out. On. Your. Own. At. Night. Need me to spell it, (y/n)? Never ever, not in a million years. Got it?”

Not under any circumstances. Your husband made that very clear countless times. But does that include a helpless child outside your estate in the middle of the night? You aren’t a fighter like Sanemi is, even refused to keep an emergency katana in the house just in case. There is no way you could harm a single soul, not even a demon. Leaving a child outside in the middle of the night…isn’t that just as unforgivable?

Sanemi said that he’ll take care of the demons around first. That means you’re safe, right? But even if that poor child doesn’t face danger in the form of a demon, it will certainly freeze with that cold breeze rushing over the land these days.

“P-please, is someone there? I’m s-so tired and s-so cold…I…I can’t walk anymore…”

Your heart aches with every word. No matter how much value the promise you made towards your husband holds in your heart, you simply can’t stand the thought of ignoring an innocent little child that needs your help.

“Why are you out there all on your own, where are your parents?”, you shout into the darkness of your home while making your way to the door.

Is it really okay, breaking the promise you’ve made like that? You grab the handle of the door tightly. This might be the only time you’re actually useful. Without any skills apart from cooking, you can only watch from the side-lines how the demon slayer corps save the world. Maybe this is your chance to do a little something as well, your chance to actually be helpful.

You swing your door open while holding your breath.

“Where are you? Let’s get you inside and grab a warm tea, okay? You must be freezing”, you speak out gently, eyes scanning the garden for the little figure.

“I’m right here!”, the innocent voice cries out to your right.

Instantly, you pick up your pace and sprint towards the tiny figure lying in the grass. Oh no, you can’t imagine what this little child has been through, how it even got here. Did it get lost in the woods and failed to return before the night came? You’ll have to prepare a guestroom right away, just after inviting this little one in-

“Foolish woman.”

Time stands still, your glossy orbs starts to tremble when the tiny figure in front of you starts to build itself up, grows taller and taller until it surpasses your own height by multiple inches. This…this isn’t a child.

Your eyes widen in sheer horror, blood rushing through your ears so violently that you feel like fainting any given minute after it strucks you like lighting.

You were tricked by a demon. After Sanemi warned you over and over, you fell for the lousy trick of a demon. Out of instinct you start stumbling backwards, glossy eyes darted towards the horrific creature with bright red eyes and fangs bigger than your own head.

“I waited patiently until that demon slayer was gone. A young and beautiful woman like you sure tastes nice. Now that I’m seeing you fully, you were definitely worth the wait. I’m sure your flesh tastes excellent.”

Your blood freezes in your veins. Is this really how your life will come to an end? Because you didn’t listen to your husband, because you wanted to be somehow useful? How will Sanemi react, finding out that you were killed? Suddenly your legs threaten to give in and force you to come to a stand. It’s not like you’d be able to defend yourself in any kind of way when all you ever did was taking care of Sanemi and your imaginary perfect life.

A perfect life, ruined by one night of carelessness.

His face flashes in front of your inner eyes, the kind smile he always wore when he didn’t know you were watching. Despite the flaws others see in him, his hot temper and the way he treats his little brother, you are head over heels for him. Your husband, your everything, your Sanemi. A perfect little marriage, ruined by you.

“Don’t”, you hush into the night like the fool you’re are.

“How much I love hearing you little women beg not to get killed. Music in my ears!”

He dashes towards, ready to slice your throat open single-handed. Out of instinct, you let yourself fall backwards into the wet grass, watching how his claws brush over your forehead with enough force to discolour your vision red.

“Nice moves. You seem really healthy. That’s actually even better”, the demon purrs.

This is it. Your final moment on this earth, killed through the hands of a demon in your own well-groomed garden. You never imagined it all to go down like this, not when you’re still so young and full of love.

You didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye, to tell Sanemi one final time how much you adore him and that you’ll love him through everything. Will he be okay? The man who lost almost everything, who has to live with a burden heavier than earth itself balanced on his strong shoulders. This…this will break him even more.

“Any last words?”, the demon jeers at you.

Your breath gets stuck in your throat. No, there is nothing this creature deserves to hear from you, not even a single scream will escape your lips. You rest your lids, picture his oh so gorgeous face in front of your inner eye. If you only had more time, if you only listened. Your beloved marriage, vanishing in thin air.

“I’m sorry Sanemi. I’m so so sorry…”

When will it be over?

“Touch her and you’ll die.”

What...No, this is impossible, you have to be dreaming-

“Or nah, you’ll die anyway.”

The urge to open your eyes again becomes unbearable.

Your heart skips a beat. Instead of getting greeted by the claws of the demon, you’re able to read it very clearly.

“Destroy.”

This back, so familiar broad…

“Sanemi?”

“Didn’t I tell you to stay inside the house?”, he barks over his shoulder.

It happens faster than your eyes are able to follow. One high jump, one slash of his sword and the demon’s head falls onto the soft grass in front of you. Immediately, you are surrounded by dust rising towards the moon.

“What were you even thinking?”

Before you’re even able to feel relieved your husband storms towards you, not a single spark of affection gleaming in his furious eyes.

“You promised over and over”, he screams on top of his lungs.

“I’m-“

“And you fucking lied into my face!”

Roughly, he grabs your Yukata with both hands and yanks your throbbing figure towards him.

“I’m so-“

“Is all of this a joke to you? Don’t you trust your husband enough to do as you’re told!? You’ve had this one job, that one fucking job to stay inside the house!”

“Sanemi, I-“

“Are you out of your goddamn mind? Did you really want to die right here?”

“Sanemi…”

You breathe his name into the night with strangled voice, tears now streaming down your face like a waterfall. You made a reckless mistake, but none of this happened because you wanted to hurt him. His words, his furious gaze, his hardened eyes so venomous that you have to look away dig themselves like knives into your already fragile heart and simply take your breath away. Out of all feelings, your husband is livid at you.

“I…I’m sorry”, you finally press out.

“You could have died, (y/n). You know that?”

He pulls you towards himself even harder, his hands fisting the fabric of your yukata so tightly that you fear he might rip it.

“You could have died and I couldn’t have done a single fucking thing. Losing you…Fuck!”

He yanks your chin upwards with one hand, forces you to look at him through your wet lashes. But you aren’t greeted by his stone-cold glare. No, are those…tears shimmering in his orbs? What’s left of your heart breaks in an instant.

“I can’t lose you. Not you, not the love of my life. Not another loved one. I couldn’t fucking stand this shitty world without you by my side. How many times did I tell you to stay inside the house when I’m gone at night?”, he screams at you.

“I-I’m sorry”, you hush through shaky lips.

“You’re my everything. Fuck, I love you so much…Losing you like that…”

The next second you find yourself devoured in his strong arms, holding you pressed against his chest so tightly that you can feel his heart pounding.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again, (y/n). Never”, he mutters into your hair while caressing your bloody hair.

“I’m sorry”, you mumble again.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Are you hurt? You’re bleeding, goddamn. Let’s get you inside, this needs to get stitched up.”

You don’t dare to contradict, allowing him to carry you back into safety with your arms cramped around his neck.

You’re safe. Sanemi is absolutely furious with you, but the worry in his eyes, the gleam…You bury your head inside his uniform, desperately trying to escape your own foolishness. None of this would have happened if you just stayed inside like he told you. If you were smart enough…

“How did he get you outside?”, Sanemi finally breaks the silence while cleaning your wound.

“He played a scared and lost child”, you mumble.

“Huh, what I thought. You’d never break a promise over nothing”, Sanemi replies, his voice a little softer than before.

“I know you tried to help, but never to shit like that again. When I saw you lying there and your blood on the grass, I almost died. You’re my everything, my wife. I can’t lose you because of a demon, you hear me? I was so damn worried about you…”

“I just wanted to do something…useful…”

“Useful? Are you too dumb to see how useful you are?”, he bites back.

Sanemi stops barking at you immediately after seeing how glossy your eyes turn all over again. No matter how fucking mad he is right now, he can’t hurt you any further. It’s clear you acted out of the right motives, he shouldn’t scream at you like that. Especially since you almost died tonight. Not his wife, not when you’re everything he has.

“I treasure you more than everything else in this world. You’re the reason I’m still believing there’s something good left here. Don’t you dare to risk your important life like that again, got it?”, he gently continues before caressing your cheek the way you love so much.

“I never wanted to cause you this much trouble. I…I was acting dumb…”, you mutter, intertwining your fingers with his.

“We’re all a little dumb from time to time, yeah? Let’s go back to sleep, that was more than enough for one night.”

You don’t hesitate when he pulls you along into the oh so inviting sheets. With him by your side, they definitely feel way more inviting. With him by your side, you don’t have to fear a single nightmare haunting you down this frightful night.

“At least I’m having an excuse now for a day off tomorrow. I love you, (y/n). So so much”, Sanemi mumbles into your hair, holding you so comforting against his chest that sleep washes over you almost immediately.

“I love you too, Sanemi…”

There is no doubt in the fact that Sanemi held you even closer each and every night after almost losing you through the hands of a demon.

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine @skeleton-the-gangser (reader isn't pregnant in that one, but the vibe is the same as with the Yoriichi fic you enjoyed)

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norris55s · 4 months

Text

just friends - pato o'ward

sister’s best friend!reader x pato o’ward social media au

a/n: it’s a sister’s best friend to best friends to lovers brain rot. i also needed something to soothe my heart after that last lap on the indy500. i also love pato with all my heart. fc is olivia rodrigo!

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y/ninstagram

liked by patriciooward, elbaoward and 21,546 others

y/ninstagram: the bff + the princess and the prince at their wedding + the bitch ass brother

view all 1,125 comments

elbaoward: love you soooo much 🤍🤍🤍

y/ninstagram: i love u more 4eva, don’t care if ur married ur my wifey above all🤍

elbaoward: wifeys 4eva

patriciooward: I’m the cool brother

y/ninstagram: uncool*

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patriciooward

liked by y/ninstagram, elbaoward and 126,746 others

patriciooward: Woke up with a new brother today. Congratulations to the love birds. 🤍 Also pictured y/ninstagram waking up with a hangover. ☕️

view all 2,332 comments

y/ninstagram: delete

patriciooward: But you look like a ray of sunshine

elbaoward: thank you always baby brother🤍 you look like you had a goood time lol

user46: ayo who is y/n i’m new here

user67: okay I love y/n lore, she is an influencer/model type of deal and she is pato’s sister’s bestie since forever ago and she and pato get along really well, they’re seen together a lot when elba attends races with her. it’s an ongoing joke in the fandom that pato has the biggest crush on her, which has never been denied nor confirmed lol but they’ve never posted each other on their feeds before so the rumors are rumoring

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patriciooward

liked by y/ninstagram, elbaoward and 108,924 others

patriciooward: Pre-Season recharging with some sea salt. Also pictured y/ninstagram on the phone with God. 🌊🍌

view all 2,835 comments

y/ninstagram: posting bad pictures of me is becoming a thing i see

patriciooward: Technically, you started it

user74: now what is going on why are they vacationing together

user82: y/n said on her tiktok live that they’re with a bunch of other friends so there’s that

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patriciooward

liked by y/ninstagram, elbaoward and 183,746 others

patriciooward: Good season start 😊 Also pictured y/ninstagram side eying me when I asked if I could try her ramen 🍜

view all 1,845 comments

y/ninstagram: you don’t just ask a girl to have her ramen, even if you got a podium

user13: anyone else noticing how they’re becoming super close after elba’s wedding

user82: I think everyone is noticing alright… elba isn’t even there

user26: they’re so dating

user98: i thought the same thing but literally every interview today was dedicated to pato saying they’re just friends

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y/ninstagram

liked by patriciooward, elbaoward and 20,724 others

y/ninstagram: it’s rawe ceek + pato’s lil hat

view all 1,835 comments

elbaoward: why are you replacing me with another o’ward?

patriciooward: Sorry, she’s my best friend now. You have a whole ass husband

y/ninstagram: u could never be replaced bby girl 😽😽😽

patriciooward: Wow

user82: are we seeing this fam

user23: maybe the best friend gate is all part of pato’s plan to get the girl

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patriciooward

liked by y/ninstagram, elbaoward and 127,924 others

patriciooward: Did the best we could on that race considering the circumstances 🤪 Also pictured y/ninstagram’s sushi eyes 🍱

view all 2,321 comments

y/ninstagram: maybe u didnt win on track but you won best sushi recommendation

user83: they’re so sus but they also don’t even touch when they’re in public… perhaps they are just best friends

user53: who needs touching when pato looks at her like she put the stars up in the sky

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patriciooward

liked by y/ninstagram, elbaoward and 192,246 others

patriciooward: F1 testing done right 🥹 Also pictured y/ninstagram’s face when I got in the car 🧡

view all 2,725 comments

user24: are we still pretending we believe the best friends bullshit

y/ninstagram: this is so crazy to me because i’m honestly here for a shot with lando norris

landonorris: message received 🫡

patriciooward: Mate 😂

user27: that’s the most threatening laugh emoji i have ever seen

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y/ninstagram

liked by patriciooward, elbaoward and 25,935 others

y/ninstagram: it’s indy 500 time + elba being pretty + pato eating something he definitely shouldn’t be eating

view all 1,983 comments

elbaoward: the support system is in need of support

y/ninstagram: we are doing great! (we are crying)

user45: how are we feeling watching the race personally I want to throw up

y/ninstagram: im fine! (i have blacked out multiple times)

user36: oh man… im so glad she’s there after that final lap heartbreak

user26: please give pato our love ❤️ he gave it all

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patriciooward

liked by y/ninstagram, elbaoward and 293,927 others

patriciooward: I woke up with a big smile on my face today, feeling very loved by all of you. Wouldn’t change a thing about my journey so far, I know it will be so special the day my name is written among the stars and I get to experience the magic everyone talks about. Excited for the rest of the season, wouldn’t want it to be with anyone else arrowmclaren 🧡 #indy500

view all 7,014 comments

y/ninstagram: you inspire me every single day. your time will come and it’ll be epic. 🧡

elbaoward: you are a force of nature and the sun ☀️

user83: im sorry i really want to comment about the race and compliment pato but are we just going to ignore the last picture of him and y/n holding hands

user53: are we going to ignore their hug on national tv i really felt like i was interrupting

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y/ninstagram

liked by patriciooward, elbaoward and 35,924 others

y/ninstagram: lover boy + lover boy + lover boy. you’re amazing. 🧡

view all 3,045 comments

patriciooward: 🧡

elbaoward: been a long time coming 🥰

landonorris: 😔

landonorris: jk ive been in on pato’s crush all along

y/ninstagram: 💀

user94: WAR IS OVER

user52: not the hard launch

user85: at least tell us how it happened after friend zoning each other for months

y/nusername: comfort after a heartbreak go crazy

patriciooward: You’re a natural romantic

#f1 #f1 au #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 smau #f1 social media au #indycar #indy 500 #pato o'ward #pato o’ward fanfic #pato o’ward x reader #pato o’ward smau #pato o’ward social media au #pato oward

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angel-of-the-moons · 11 months

Note

Need Steven with a freak. Let’s say he’s been dating this girl for a while and he’s ready to take it to the next step. He’s super worried he’ll make you all uncomfortable and stuff when he asks but the next thing he know he’s being ridden till the break of dawn

(I’m ovulating I am so sorry-)

OMG SAMESIES AND I. AM. ✨FERAL✨ RN

Please

Steven Grant x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Smut, just smut af, protected sex (implant), oral sex (m!receiving) creampie, overstimulation

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: This lil dress here is what I had in mind for the outfit in the start. (I'm a sucker for sunflower patterns)

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

It had to be tonight. He just couldn't take it anymore. None of them could.

But Steven was the worst about his urges. He felt awkward and worried it would chase you away, the first girlfriend he ever got to finally have; all the others didn't understand his... Problems.

Problems he later learned were triggered by Marc (and in some cases, Jake), but you? You took them in stride, like a duck to water.

The moment he first saw you, his breath had been sucked right out of him. Marc and Jake went dead silent, too.

It was a gloomy, dreary day; the rain coming down in heavy droplets, casting a grim light down on the London streets.

But there you were, walking around the museum, looking at exhibits and scribbling notes in your tiny notebook with oh, so many post-its sticking out, fattening the tiny book until it looked close to bursting.

You were the only ray of sunshine on that day, your yellow dress that hugged your body just right, little sunflowers covering the fabric. Your hair done just the right way to accentuate your face as your eyes studied each artifact and bauble you saw.

To say the boys were instantly smitten was an understatement.

It took weeks of bumping into you to work up the courage to talk to you, and it was only when you came in to buy a rather dinky looking scarab plushie in the gift shop. It's this conversation where he finds out you're in school, trying to become an archaeologist and historian.

Steven's dream girl, and he had hearts in his eyes at every word you spoke.

He couldn't help but blubber out a request for a date, and you agreed.

The rest... History in the making.

You'd been dating for two months, but already he could feel the pull of urges he didn't necessarily indulge in often.

Sure, he, Marc and Jake could indulge in it themselves, trying to take the edge off. But sometimes it felt like the more he indulged in it, the more intense his fantasies got.

He simply couldn't keep tugging his cock for momentary relief anymore, imagining it was your soft hand, your mouth, your tits or something else wrapped around his cock that had him practically drooling: your sweet cunt.

But tonight? Tonight was the night. He was afraid to bring it up because he didn't want you to feel like he was moving too fast; and he could barely function when you admitted you were a little surprised he waited so long. (And teased him a little for how sometimes he just wasn't stealthy when trying to conceal a surprise boner.)

You'd told him that you thought about him too, and that you were more than willing to let him indulge.

But it was from there that you found out that Steven had never actually been intimate with anyone. Jake and Marc had, yes. But poor Steven has just never had the luck.

And that's how Steven found himself in this precarious situation, you on your knees, your pretty little mouth wrapped around his cock as you bobbed your head so sweetly, tongue laving around his length, hollowing and sucking your cheeks with every drag, tracing the vein that ran up the side of him.

He couldn't stop with the babbling praises, the sweet petting in your hair.

Honestly, if you knew he was this weak? You'd have jumped his bones a lot sooner. Probably after the fourth or fifth date. It was rare you found someone who was intellectually a joy to talk to (not excluding Marc and Jake) who was so handsome and sweet to you.

One hand was thrust down into your panties, playing with yourself, dress hiked up so you could have better access as you continue sucking him off, the lewd sounds coming from both of you more suited to a pornography than the quiet air of his flat.

You could feel your orgasm cresting already, but you knew that you didn't want to just cum on your fingers like you had so many times before, you wanted to feel Steven inside of you and god did you want to drain him for everything he had.

Steven made a whine, babbling your name again.

"L-luv, I'm--I'm gonna--ugh--"

He couldn't even get the sentence out before you felt him spill down your throat, his hips bucking suddenly you gagged, carefully adjusting so you didn't choke as he pumped his load into your greedy mouth.

Well... you weren't surprised he didn't last very long...

He immediately started rattling off apologies that had you giggling.

God damn, you were going to enjoy draining him. Maybe Marc and Jake, too.

The blush that spread up to his ears made him look absolutely adorable.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--" He stammered out, covering his face. "In--in your mouth, I--"

With the fluid grace of a cat you climb into his lap, straddling him.

You cup his cheeks and kiss him softly, before pulling away.

"You're alright." You assure him, peppering his adorable face with kisses.

It's when he squeezes your thighs and ruts up into you, his face buried in your neck that you realize he's still hard.

You bite your lip and kiss his ear.

"Steven, do you want me to ride you?"

"Ohgodsyesplease." He breathes out on a whimper.

You hastily line his cock up with your hole and sink down, taking him in inch by delicious inch until you're stretched beautifully around him.

You tip your head back with a groan. He certainly had girth for days, that was for sure.

"I'm... Already close. Can you help me?" You say, giving him a sweet pout that makes his heart jump up into his throat.

"Y-yes, I can--"

The way he keeps cutting himself off makes you want to cuddle him and cover him with kisses, but at the same time fuck him until his legs go numb.

Maybe you'd do the former later.

You pull his fingers into your mouth and he makes a soft moan when you suck his fingers, swirling your tongue around his calloused digits until you deemed them wet enough.

Then, you guide his hand down your body to your throbbing clit, and show him the rhythm that'd work for you best.

"Try to keep it in time with me, m'kay?" You groan, grinding down on him in one slow, languid movement.

His eyes roll back, but he nods and keeps his fingers over your clit, massaging the bundle of nerves in time with each downward stroke of your hips.

Every bit of him had you aching, from his electric touches to his fat cock spearing you open and fucking your weeping pussy in the best way possible, you kicked yourself mentally again for not bringing up sex sooner.

Steven's cock felt far better inside of you than your fingers or your toys at home. He felt hot, he felt real. And real is what you'd been lacking lately.

Whatever Steven would give you, you planned on taking happily. You would--

Your eyes flutter open when Steven suddenly arches his back and hits you deeper than you expected him to; opening your mouth in a quiet cry, no sound escapes as your orgasm hits you and Steven continues swiping at your clit, fucking you from below as you shudder and collapse on top of him as he continues breathing on the hot embers of your orgasm to keep it going for as long as possible.

"Please." He whines in your ear.

"Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease."

"In-inside--" You whimper, biting down on his shoulder, earning a toe-curling moan from him.

"You can do it inside."

He grits his teeth and let's out a hissing cry, veins popping in his neck and forehead as he fucks his spend up into you, his orgasm burning and flaying his nerves raw as he pumps you full.

He drops back onto the cushions of the couch and sofa, breathing hard, desperately trying to drag oxygen back into his lungs.

Reality however, is a cruel mistress and he looks down at where you two were connected.

"Oh, b-bloody hell. I--I didn't--"

"Relax, hon." You giggle, leaning back with one hand braced on one of his knees for support, your other hand trailing lazily down to where his cock still split you open, his cum leaking out around his length. The sight of you sent a dizzying spiral through him.

"I'm safe, promise. I have an implant. Still good for another three years."

The thought that he could keep doing this for three years--

His mind went blank when you grind down on his lap, feeling his cock stir to life despite the fact he was now exhausted.

"L-luv, I... I don't think I can..." He panted desperately.

Your brace your hands on his chest and start bouncing on his lap, grinning wickedly the whole time.

"I'm gonna keep going until I drain you dry, sweetheart. Get comfortable."

The gulp he made was audible in the space you shared, as was the sinful slap of skin on skin.

#answered #moon knight #steven grant #steven grant smut #steven grant x you #steven grant x reader

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angelwings-crossbowstrings · 6 months

Text

But Put Together, the Cracks We’ll Close In

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Early Alexandria

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

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

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

“S’that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mama, here!”

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

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

“Nadia, slow down!”

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

“Mama, dinner! Dorl dinner.”

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

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

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

“Dorl, huh?” You smiled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dorl dinner!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Dooorl.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dorl got Nada.”

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

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

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

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

He snorted. “Alright.”

“Goodnight, Daryl.”

“Night.” He took two steps.

“Nigh’ nigh’, Dorl!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Better they don’t know me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, you tried.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Dorl.”

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

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

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

“Mama! Dorl!”

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

“Dorl up?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the fu—heck’s that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was not going to end well.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And babysitting.

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

“Babysitting, again, hmm?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No shit, Daryl?”

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

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

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

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

“Daryl?”

He nearly collapsed in relief.

“What’s wrong? Where’s Nadia? Daryl?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Whoa. That train of that was roughly derailed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“M’a tell Carol to watch ‘er mouth.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Daryl?”

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

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

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

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

“Mhm.” Lie.

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t be. It’s just dinner, Daryl.”

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

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

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

“Dorl night night.”

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

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

“Daryl.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dorl smell ick.” She would say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Damn well better intimidate him.”

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

“Shuddup.”

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

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

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

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

He was so fucked.

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

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

“Dorl! Mama, Dorl boo-boo!”

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

“Nada kiss boo-boo.”

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

“Mama, Dorl got big boo-boo.”

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

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

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

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

“What happened? He okay?” Rick.

“Daryl!” Ah, Carol. Good.

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

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

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

“Dorl!”

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

“Hey, Dia.”

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

“Why?” Came the innocent reply.

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

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

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

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

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

“Why? Because you know it’ll work?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Noooooo.”

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

“Nigh’ night’, dada.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ain’t never lied to ya.”

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

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

“And Y/N?”

“What?”

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

“S’a lil’ more—I, uh—”

“I said STOP!”

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

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

“You’re delusional!”

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

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

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

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

“Dada mad?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Home, dada.”

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

One Year Later

“Daddy! Lookit picture!!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What did you bring her?”

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

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

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zegrasdrysdale · 23 days

Note

Morning wood with EE73?? Please and thank you 🩷

[ good morning to you too ] e. edwards

➾ paring : Ethan Edwards x fem!reader

➾ summary : friends become lovers when an awkward moment turns into a morning of passion

➾ warning(s) : smut !! morning wood, fingering, soft morning sex, unprotected p in v sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), nicknames during sex, a single use of “y/n”

➾ author’s note : this was supposed to be a short lil thing but then i got carried away and it’s now 90% smut and 10% plot (oops)

༺═──────────────═༻

Her entire body slowly wakes up from head to toe when she wakes from her light sleep. At first she feels nothing as she comes out of her sleep, then she slowly begins to feel something poking the back of her thigh. She’s very quick to realize that it’s Ethan’s dick that’s poking her. She remains very still so she doesn’t cause anything to happen. Especially since he’s already moving a little bit.

Then the worst case scenario happens. Ethan mumbles her name in his sleep. It’s her nickname that only he calls her.

She moves quickly but hopefully carefully out of bed to avoid what will be a very embarrassing moment for the both of them.

What she thought was graceful was really not. She ends up scrambling out of bed and falls to the ground. Ethan wakes up and looks over the side of the bed.

“Uh, good morning to you too?” he says, phrasing it like a question. “Why did you decide to fall out of bed?”

She stares up at him. “You have, um …” she trails off. “A problem. It poked me. I was trying to leave you to take care of it but ended up falling out of bed.” And you said my name remains unsaid.

That’s territory that she’s not sure she wants to enter. It will change everything between them if she says it. She isn’t interested in ruining the most important friendship she has.

Ethan leans back to see what she means. She watches his cheeks turn tomato red from the ground. “Oh shit,” he gasps. “I am so sorry. I didn’t- this rarely happens. It would happen when you sleep over. I-”

“You can’t control it,” she interrupts. “It’s natural. I’ll just leave and go make breakfast so you can take care of it.”

As she stands up, she realizes that between her thighs is damp and there’s a pit in the bottom of her stomach like she’s turned on. She presses her lips into a tight line and crosses one leg over the other to put some pressure on her core.

Yeah, this is super embarrassing. She can’t believe that her body is betraying her like this.

“(Y/N), come here,” he orders.

“Ethan, I-”

“Come here, Sunny,” he tries again, this time with an emphasis on her nickname.

She remembers the day he started calling her Sunny.. It was their freshman year and she was having a bad day. They met in English 101 at nine in the morning. He noticed that she wasn’t having the best day and said to her, “Well, aren’t you a ray of fucking sunshine.” She just glared at him not knowing that they were going to be the best of friends within the month.

Ethan called her ‘Sunshine’ for a few weeks until she got tired of it, so he shortened it to ‘Sunny’ right as Michigan went on winter break.

Clearly, he still uses it. It still makes her feel something. Especially now after she heard him moan her nickname in his sleep while he has morning wood.

The use of her nickname pulls her right to him. She sits with her legs crisscrossed on the side of the bed that she slept on. Her hands are folded on her lap to hide what’s probably a very obvious wet spot on the grey shorts she decided to wear to bed last night.

He sits up and lets the blankets fall to his waist. His hair is a complete mess since he’s just moving for the first time all morning. He quickly runs his hands through the mess to tame it before he turns his attention to his best friend.

“Do you trust me?” Ethan questions. She nods to answer his question. “I need you to use your words. I need to make sure that you trust me.”

“I trust you, E,” she tells him.

Ethan sighs and moves himself closer to her. He puts a hand on her knee and she sharply inhales. She looks at his hand before looking at his face. Their eyes meet and she immediately begins to relax.

This is Ethan Edwards. He wouldn’t do something if she didn’t want him to. She trusts him and he knows that.

He leans into her and claims her lips in a gentle kiss. She leans further into him and reciprocates the kiss. The pair test the waters between them as their relationship takes a turn she never thought would happen.

In the three years she’s known him, she’s wanted him. He had girlfriend after girlfriend or was hooking up with girls so she never got the chance to try anything with him. This is that chance.

The kiss deepens when Ethan brings his free hand up to cup her jaw. She allows herself to wrap one of her hands around his wrist so he doesn’t move his hand. She leans into the light touch. Her free hand slides into his hair so he doesn’t back away from her.

She finally has him and she doesn’t want to let him go. She also makes it a point not to rush anything. She lets Ethan take full control for the time being.

Her lips part and Ethan slips his tongue past them. She gasps as Ethan licks into her mouth. A soft hum follows.

His free hand drops to her waist and he pulls her closer to him. She throws one of her legs over his tights and straddles him over the blankets. She feels the bulge on her core through the covers.

Ethan lies down until he’s on his back with his head on the pillows. She follows him and her hair forms a curtain around their faces as the kiss quickens. One of Ethan’s hands pushes her hair back and she smiles into the kiss that follows. His other hand runs up and down her back slowly.

“Need you to do more, E,” she mumbles between kisses. “Please. Please.”

“You’ve never been patient, have you?” he teases. Ethan pulls back and meets her eyes. There’s a layer of lust that covers and darkens them.

“I’ve been patient enough,” she admits. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this to happen, Ethan.” He blinks at her. “So, I need you to stop taking this slow and do something. Anything, E.”

Almost like he’s been given permission to do anything he wants to her, which she basically has, Ethan flips them so she’s on her back and her hair forms a halo around her head on the pillows. She smiles and stares up at him.

Ethan kneels between her knees to pull off his Michigan hockey t-shirt and tosses it to the floor. She runs her hands from the waistband of his pajama pants up his chest. She traces his toned stomach and bites her lip. His hand fall to the bottom of her borrowed t-shirt and he dips his fingers underneath. She pulls the fabric up and off her body. His eyes fall to her naked upper body, and she doesn’t feel uncomfortable under his gaze. She stares up at him as a finger runs from her lips and down her body until it reaches the waistband of her shorts.

Impatiently, she lifts her hips so Ethan can slide off her shorts. He smiles and hooks his fingers in her shorts. It isn’t long before he tugs them down and leaves her completely naked beneath him. Her legs drop to the side for him.

“Fuck, Sunny,” Ethan sighs as leans down to press little kisses to her stomach. “So beautiful. All for me. All mine. You’re all mine now.”

“I’m all yours,” she breathes out. “Please, Ethan.”

“I’ve got you, pretty girl,” he assures her. “I’ll take care of you.”

She feels one of his fingers run through her slick folds. It catches her off guard and she hums. Her eyes flutter shut and she lets her sense of touch take over. She runs her fingers through his hair.

One finger turns into two, and both his fingers push into her. She gasps and curls her fingers in his hair. Ethan begins to flick his wrist and curl his fingers inside her in a ‘come here’ motion. “Oh my- fuck, Ethan,” she groans.

He kisses the inside of her upper thigh. His movements speed up slightly and she’s a shaking mess underneath his touch.

Her teeth dig into her bottom lip to stay quiet since she’s in a house full of hockey players. The last thing she or Ethan want right now is for them to be too loud and his teammates come knocking on the door or mess with him when he leaves the room. It takes everything in her to not scream his name when he adds a third finger while he continues the ‘come here’ motion.

A knot forms and immediately begins to tighten in her belly. Ethan crawls up her body so they’re face to face, but his fingers stay where they are.

“Ethan,” she pants. “E. I’m gonna cum. Fuck, I’m close.”

He withdraws his finger as soon as the last word comes out of her mouth. She frowns and looks up at him as he licks her slick off of the three fingers that were inside of her. She could cum just from that, but she does her best to wait.

“My fingers aren’t going to be the thing that makes you cum, pretty Sunny,” Ethan tells her as he kneels between her legs. “Not this time when I have been waiting years to get inside of you.”

He pushes his pajama pants and boxers off his body. Her eyes widen slightly as his dick pops out of his boxers. She knows the stories that have been floating around campus so she’s aware how big he is and she saw how big his bulge was in his pants.

She might die today. She wasn’t prepared for all those stories and rumors to be true.

Ethan settles himself between her legs and leans down to hover over her. She stares up at him and feels his tip at her entrance.

“Last chance to stop,” Ethan tells her. “Tell me know if you don’t want this, Sunny.”

“I want this,” she assures him. “I want this more than you will ever know, Ethan. I want you. I need you.”

With her full permission, Ethan slowly pushes into her. She bites her bottom lip and hums as he fills her with his cock. Her back arches off the bed at the feeling. He pushes into her until he bottoms out.

He allows her to adjust to his size before he begins to roll his hips. Ethan starts slow before slowly speeding up every few thrusts. Her hums turn into moans as Ethan moves deeper into her.

She wants this moment to be never ending. She knows that now she can have him whenever she wants and she gets to re-live this moment, but she’ll never experience this moment again. This moment when she allowed herself to be with Ethan after denying herself for the longest time. She let herself be vulnerable with the guy she trusts the most in this world.

Their friendship has officially turned into something more, and she is excited to see where it goes. She’s dreamed of this for almost a year and a half when she realized she wanted to be more than friends with him at one of the hockey celebration parties after an important win.

This is a chance of a lifetime for her. To be with the only guy that she’s wanted for the past 18 months or so. This is it.

A loud moan passes her lips as Ethan throws one of her legs over his shoulder and moves as deep as he can at the new angle. He quickly leans down and kisses her to quiet her. The kiss is feverish from the start and she hums every time Ethan thrusts his hips into her. He keeps her from getting too loud and the moan slipped by.

Her arms are wrapped around his neck and her fingers are in his hair. The bed creaks with every thrust of Ethan’s hips.

Soon, Ethan’s lips are not enough to keep her quiet. Moans bubble from her throat as he rolls his hips as fast as he can while moving as deep as he can.

“Holy fuck, E,” she gasps. “I’m close. Wanna cum so bad. Please.”

Ethan hums. “‘m close too, pretty girl,” he tells her as he pulls back from the hot kiss. “Wanna cum with you.”

She throws her head back as Ethan hits her favorite spot over and over again. The knot threatens to come undone any second and she pants the closer she gets to her pending orgasm.

Her legs shake as she holds herself off. She can feel her walls clenching around Ethan and she’s at her limit.

“Ethan!” she cries out as she cums around his dick. “Oh my God. Fuck, E.”

Her breathing becomes extremely labored and her vision goes white as she releases. She is so out of it that she doesn’t feel Ethan pull out and cum on her thighs and stomach. Her head is in the clouds and it takes her a few minutes to come down.

It can’t get any better than that, right? Then she realizes that she hasn’t gotten his tongue and realizes it could get so much better than that.

When she comes back to reality, there’s a wet cloth on her stomach and thighs. She looks down and watches as Ethan cleans up his mess. He looks up at her and smiles. “Welcome back,” he teases.

“Your fault,” she retorts.

Ethan throws the cloth in the direction of his bathroom before he crawls next to her. He throws the blankets over the two of them before he lies on his side to look at her. His head rests on his hand and he holds himself up with his elbow. She reaches up to trace his jawline.

There are footsteps outside of Ethan’s door, signaling that someone is up. Hopefully they didn’t wake whoever it is up with their morning activities.

“Why haven’t we done that before?” Ethan questions. “I mean, that was really fucking good. I might need to go another round soon.”

“Don’t you have practice soon?”

He quickly flips over to grab his phone. “Oh, shit,” he gasps at the same time a knock rings throughout the room.

“Yo, Eddy!” Luca calls through the door. “You ready to go?”

She giggles as Ethan runs frantically around the room to find something to wear to practice. He makes a point to stop and leave a lingering kiss on her lips.

“We’ll talk when I get back,” he tells her. “Don’t go anywhere, okay? Promise I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

She nods in agreement and watches Ethan run out the door. Luca’s voice carries in the hall. “I didn’t want to interrupt you but we were gonna be late,” Luca says as the two of them walk away.

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