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littlegodzilla · 2 years

Note

Hello! I'm so glad that your requests are finally open, gawd I've waited for this day 😭❤️.

So I would like to request a Norman and Reader smut where reader is also a part of the TWD cast and her character is paired opposite Daryl's in the show and while shooting for Daryl and Reader segs scenes under the sheets Norman actually makes her come 😏🤓

Hi anon!!

Sorry for taking me so long! But I was pretty busy with my work and my mini series. I'm really sorry! I hope you are still here!

I hope you'll like it!!

Enjoy!!

≈≈≈≈≈≈

Under the sheets.

Norman Reedus x Reader.

Anon request. One shot.

Warnings: Smut. Not much plot.

Words: 3470.

Taglist: @phoenixblack89 @browneyes528 @lilythemadqueen @darylsgarden @thefemininemystiquee @green-eyedladywrites @hail-yourselves @ruinedbythehobbit @xxtinasxxblog @ravenwings73 @spenciepoo338 @b-tchymoon @minervadashwood @darylssluttt @let-love-bleeds-red

≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈

You're a little nervous, you've been going over the script for several weeks, but finally the scene has arrived. The Walking Dead was a great opportunity for you, even though you started in the middle of the show, but you soon fit in with the cast, everyone welcomed you as one of them, they helped you with the complicated scenes.

Your character is part of The Kingdom, at the beginning your character doesn't interact much with Daryl, your affinity is linked to Carol, your first scene together was in Shiva's cage, you were already there and Daryl hides there looking for a moment of solitude, but he is surprised to find you next to the tigress.

The idea of the screenwriters is to form a relationship with you and Daryl, at first you are not convinced, Daryl is a beloved character, but it is not something forced, little by little your bond and your shots together are more frequent and as time goes by, people are comfortable with you around the archer.

Your relationship with Norman developed as slowly as your character's relationship with Daryl. At first you would stand on the sidelines on one side of the table to eat, you would share small conversations with the group, on the other side Norman would talk to Andy and Melissa, he didn't purposely ignore you, he tended to surround himself with the people he knew and felt more comfortable with. But you couldn't help but watch him, you tried to be discreet, you admired from a distance the way he acted, how he took the script and studied it until he became the Daryl he wanted to show the world. As your characters interacted, so did you and little by little you began to trust each other, to spend more time together, you no longer sat on one side of the table, Norman made room for you near his group and even though you all talked, you felt special for being there.

A year ago your character confessed to Daryl, after all the bad things Alexandria and its inhabitants had been through, your character couldn't take it anymore and told Daryl everything she felt. Your characters shared their first on-camera kiss.

It was the first time you kissed Norman.

Since then, a year ago, you feel Norman fooling around with you more evidently than you thought, it was nothing special, he didn't have any magic phrase, or anything like that, Norman is patient, he looks at you, he smiles at you, he jokes and talks to you, he makes it natural, easy and that's what has made you crazy about him.

That's why now you're shaking like a flan.

Your characters' relationship has been well accepted, so the producers want to go a step further and show some intimacy between you and Daryl, they wanted you to have a moment of peace and passion after so much pain and suffering.

The room is set up to shoot the scene, it's the room you share almost from the moment you arrive in Alexandria, when your character gets him to let his guard down. The lighting is dim, it's hot, hotter than it usually is in Georgia, there are several cameras, but you are relatively "alone". Norman appears in the room then dressed in Daryl's clothes, hair disheveled, but he was clean, neat, which was odd to his character, but the producers are excited.

"Alright guys, let's get started, remember, you're the one who starts the action." He looks at you indicating what to do. "We all know Daryl needs that push, take it easy, don't get overwhelmed."

"Okay..." You throat clear and put your script aside then face Norman.

You stare at each other, Norman immediately takes his stance as Daryl, but before you start to speak, he slyly winks at you and your cheeks redden.

"Daryl, stop it." You ask him nervously. "We have peace again." You walk up to him, resting your hands on his shoulders.

"Ya dunno that..." He's changed his voice to the gruff, growling tone so characteristic of Daryl. "What if they come back, what if another Negan shows up, another Alpha...?"

"Stop, no, don't think about that." You hold his face so he'll look at you. "Alexandria is safe again. We can relax, a little, take care of our people... be happy." You whisper without taking your eyes off him.

"Death is still out there..."

"And we'll keep fighting it, but..." You lick your lips, closing your eyes for a moment. Giving it a dramatic touch, remembering your phrases. "I love you, Daryl, I need you here..." You whisper once more and wait.

Norman has a line there, you know it, he has to reciprocate your feelings and then you should make the first move, but Norman says nothing, doesn't move. He bites his lip nervously, hair covering his eyes, avoiding your gaze. Your hands brush his cheeks before resting them on his shoulders again and then you stand on tiptoe, your lips meeting.

It's just a peck, your lips against his, you wanted to break away fast, but you feel his lips move under yours and you freeze. It's just a touch, you feel his lips press against yours, but you forget what you were going to do, your sentence, the kiss is getting long and awkward and uncomfortable. You curse mentally and pull away from him.

"S-sorry, I..." You stammer wanting to stop the scene, but Norman won't let you.

He holds your arm so you don't pull away, he pulls you in, his hand cradles your cheek and his lips trap yours in an intense kiss. He catches your upper lip at the same time his hands hold your face, a moan escapes you as his teeth scrape your lip and his tongue darts into your mouth, your fingers tremble in your grip on his wrists. The kiss becomes more intense, Norman dominates the kiss, you're sure he's stopped thinking like Daryl as you kiss. You yourself forget that you're not there alone, that you're kissing in front of a group, cameras and lighting maintaining that atmosphere, but you're not able to think of anything every time his tongue tangles with yours, when his hand plays with your hair between his fingers, tugging it lightly, keeping you glued to him, making you sigh once more.

Your brain kicks in once more, without letting your lips part you begin to unbutton his vest, pulling it down from his shoulders, your body vibrates as your hands rub his broad shoulders running up and down his arms. Norman leaves your mouth to kiss your jaw and neck, your body slams against the wall of the room as his hands tighten on your waist massaging your skin, squeezing your buttocks between his fingers. You moan uncontrollably as you quickly undo the buttons of his shirt and pull it off until it falls to the floor. It's his turn, he leaves your ass to grab your shirt and pull it over your head, you're wearing several layers which he quickly peels off until you're down to your bra. Your bodies part a few inches apart, Norman watches you intently, his bare chest rises and falls in a deep breath, his eyes are hidden under his hair but you can feel them pierce through you staring at you. Your mouths meet once more, the kisses become wild and you feel yourself struggling to keep up with him. Norman grabs you by the thighs and, helping himself to the wall, lifts you off the floor. You can't hide your surprise, but you wrap your legs around his waist before he starts walking to the bed, sitting on the edge of the mattress. You settle onto his lap, untangle your legs from his waist to rest your knees on the mattress, Norman helps you, his hands not letting go of your ass, he sticks you to his crotch and you rock your hips, you gasp against his mouth and look at each other, his package is hard and the very prick just smiles and winks discreetly at you before he goes back to kissing your neck, biting your skin, licking and sucking, leaving a small mark on it. Your judgment clouds again, your hips swaying on their own, your skin crawling with goose bumps as his hands caress your back and unclasp your bra. You bite your lip nervously as he undoes your garment, his lips that were playing with your neck, down your collarbone to your chest, your arms wrap around his shoulders, your fingers tangle in his hair, Norman kneads your breasts between his hands, his tongue brushes against one of your nipples and you close your eyes throwing your head back.

"Focus closer." You hear it in the room.

Your body tenses all at once, so hard and obvious that you tremble in Norman's arms, your fingers stiffen between the strands of his hair and your hips hang in suspension as you're rubbing clear against him. Norman grunts against your skin before snaping in annoyance. He lifts his head from between your tits and looks over your shoulder at the group filming the scene.

"Can we cut away for a moment?" He says, you still unable to move.

"Is something wrong?" one of them asks, concerned.

"No, but understand that this scene is complicated." He makes a hand gesture pointing to the camera you have just inches away from you. "We're trying to get into the role, it's already uncomfortable having someone hanging around, if you talk..."

"Yeah, right, sorry Norman, you're right. The truth was looking perfect." Laments another. "Continue where you were, we'll cut out shortly so you can get inside the bed for a little jump into the action."

Norman nods and seeks your gaze again. You're nervous, not even able to kiss him when he does it again, his hands pulling you to him, his lips brushing your neck to your ear.

"Relax..." He whispers barely moving his lips so it doesn't show on camera. "Ignore them..."

Of course, since that's so simple. You nod your head still feeling your body tremble, he bites your ear moving down your neck again, his fingers play with your nipples, squeezing them lightly sending a stream of pleasure throughout your body. Slowly your hips move again, he is still hard and tight against his pants. You sigh as he lowers your hips so the friction is more, he moves you against him, following his rhythm, his forehead rests against yours and he sighs against your lips.

He's enjoying himself, he really is, it's not just a performance anymore, it's not just a scene from the TV series anymore. The flirting and innuendoes are long gone, now he is totally aroused, enjoying that intimate moment so he can touch you. You're sure you would feel violent and uncomfortable if it were someone else, another situation, but Norman wants you and that's the proof. Still it's crazy, you're not alone in that room, anyone could notice and maybe Norman would know how to get out of the situation, but you're sure you just wanted the Earth to swallow you up.

You feel and hear him unbutton your pants, his lips that were still tracing your neck make a small wet sound as he pulls away and stares at you. His pupils are fully dilated and he licks his lips.

God is he going to kill you.

"Okay, let's move on to the scene inside the bed." They cut the recording again pulling you out of your reverie.

"Can you give us a few minutes?" Norman asks looking back over your shoulder at them.

"Yeah, sure, we know these things are sometimes a little awkward. Let us know."

The crew leaves the room, you're amazed at the power Reedus comes to have over the people on set, and off set. You stare at him, still not off his lap, but his hands tightly gripping your buttocks won't let you either. Your eyes connect for a few seconds, neither of you say anything, his breathing is heavy, controlling himself unlike you who's heart is racing. He brushes your cheek with his thumb and leaves a softer kiss on your lips.

"I-I think..." You stammer, but he gestures for you to be quiet.

"We don't have much time and talking isn't what I want right now."

"N-Norman, that's crazy, they're..." But you can't finish the sentence, his hand slips inside your pants and his fingers move against your clit.

A moan escapes between your lips and you hold tightly to his shoulders as he increases the intensity of his fingers against your sensitive muscle. It's only a few seconds, his fingers are lost lower, between your folds, wet since you've started the whole scene. You gasp and he grunts as two fingers ease their way into your pussy, he moves them in and out then pulls them out leaving you wanting more, totally aroused, your pussy clenching against nothing wanting something to fill it again. You shiver as Norman licks his own fingers tasting you and hums.

"Ya taste so fuckin' good." He growls in Daryl's voice and for a second you think you've cum just with his voice.

"This is crazy..."

"Maybe, do you want me to stop?" he stares at you, intently, his hands on your waist again, his thumbs stroking your skin.

You are unable to respond even though your brain is screaming at you that yes, you should stop him. Norman smiles mischievously lifting you off his lap, he pulls your pants and underwear off and hides them under the bed, opens the sheets for you to get inside as he gets rid of his clothes and does the same with yours. Hiding under the covers Norman kisses you again, as he has been doing throughout the recording, intense, wild, dominant, his tongue bursting into your mouth, moving his hips, his naked cock rubbing against your folds, brushing against your clit.

"T-they're going to figure it out..." You try to put some sense into all this.

"It's possible, but we'll have had our fun." He smiles mischievously and you know you're lost.

"Can we go in now?"

"Yes." He says sitting up, covering your nakedness from the waist down with the sheets, you cover your breasts with your arms as you were protected by Norman's body before, but now everyone is looking at you. "I thought, she should be on top of Daryl." He speaks again and you look at him opening your eyes wide.

"I like it, her showing him how it's done and then Daryl can take the control" Says one of them and tells the cameraman where to stand.

You two move at the same time to change positions, the sheets remain wrapped around your waist so that nothing is visible while still being sensual and erotic, but without bordering on pornography. Norman places his cock under the sheets between your folds but doesn't push himself inside you, his tip pressing against your clit, your hands shaking against his chest, your knees resting on the mattress is the only thing visible outside the sheets, with your feet and Norman's legs, your naughtiness is well hidden.

"All right, everyone ready? Action!" they shout next to you.

Norman shakes his head, his bangs revealing his blue eyes, he wiggles his hips under you, his tip pushes against your clit and you have to close your eyes for a second. When you look back up at him the challenge is still shining in his eyes, mischievous and aroused. You take a deep breath, if you're really going to get caught at this, at least you're going to have fun. You lean over his body to kiss him, he reciprocates the moment, you push his hair away from his eyes and break the kiss to settle back on top of him. You slowly move your hips, your pussy sliding down his length, your folds moistening his cock as you rock on him. You sigh at the sensation of his tip rubbing your clit sending waves of pleasure throughout your body, you rest your hands on his chest as you move faster, gasping and letting out some moans. Norman lifts his hands to your tits, massages them and squeezes your nipples drawing a louder moan from you. You look at him and discover that he hasn't taken his eyes off you, his half-open mouth lets out an almost imperceptible gasp, there's a half smile forming on his mouth, enjoying it all. You see him close his eyes, grimacing in even greater pleasure as your folds wrap around his tip only to slide back down his entire length. You smile in satisfaction, but your moment of glory only lasts a few seconds.

Norman incorporates under you, his mouth slams against yours so desperately it hurts, his teeth bite your lips and his tongue chokes you as it thrusts into your mouth. One of his hands rests on your lower back on the sheets, the other is hidden between your bodies and you feel his tip slide into your pussy. You both gasp at the same time, your nails scratching his cheek as you feel him slowly fill you.

"Fucking tight..." He huffs through his teeth sitting up fully on his crotch.

You need a moment, you can't move yet, you need to adjust to his size, but you know you can't stay like this for long otherwise they'll notice. You look up to find Norman still staring at you, he's breathing heavily through his nose, his hand is lost in the sheets rubbing your clit again, you tense around his cock for a moment, Norman hisses and you start to move over his lap. Norman holds your ass and helps you move over him, you moan as you feel him go in much deeper, your walls tighten and clench around his cock each time you bounce on his body, the pleasure increases as his fingers don't stop. You know you are about to cum, you look at him urgently and can't hold back any longer. Your mouths collide again, drowning your moan inside his as pleasure explodes through your body. Norman grunts, he grabs your ass and pulls you backwards on top of you, your waists still wrapped in the sheets covering your nakedness, he places one of your legs over his shoulder and begins to fuck you through your orgasm, thrusting hard and deeper seeking his own relief.

"Norman, hold her hand." You hear beside you and you tense up again.

You hear Norman moan in your ear as your walls tighten around him, he is about to cum, but he still has the lucidity to reach for your hand and grip it tightly, the camera moves to that position and your fingers become entangled. Norman uses your hand and the edge of the mattress as a foothold and pushes back inside you, twice more, before pulling out and cumming on your stomach as he hides his face against your shoulder and trembles slightly on your body.

"And cut! Fuck that was perfect, very good scene, guys." They congratulate you two and you burst out laughing.

Norman slowly recovers and gets up on the bed moving you with him, sitting back on his lap, you feel the strands of cum from your belly roll down your skin, staining you both more. Your gaze and his meet again, you can see a glint of apology and shyness in them and it surprises you. Where is all that bravery now?

"Love ya..." You say trying to make a masculine voice. Norman looks at you with a slight frown, confused. "You've forgotten your line, Reedus." You joke with a smile full of mischief and he snorts through his nose.

"Shit, you're right." The team, who were already packing up, then stop to look at you. "Looks to me like we're going to have to repeat the scene. All of it." He smiles, too, raising an eyebrow.

You look at the recording crew who are looking at you in confusion and a new laugh comes over you resting your forehead on Norman's shoulder, you hear him and feel him chuckle as he strokes your hair, not getting off his lap yet.

You don't quite know what's going to happen when they leave, when you leave that room, you don't know what it means or where it all leads, but....

You wouldn't mind repeating the scene again.

***

The End.

****

I hope you liked it!

See you in the next stories!!

#my stuff #norman reedus #daryl dixon #normanreedus #smut #ask me #one shot #ask me request #anon request #anon smut request #smut requests #norman reedus smut #norman reedus request #norman reedus x reader

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theshadowrealmitself · 4 months

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Can we get more Spider-Man content? I’ve already read through all of the current ones, and I crave more. All of your posts are great and I’d love to see more of them.

I’d love to make more fun posts but I’m still recovering from being sick rn and classes just started back so I’ve been mostly suffering these past few days so my brain just hasn’t really been working 😭

But! I can leave this one thought for you:

Peter Parker working for Norman Osborn while he’s still an undergraduate and getting into a whispered heated argument with him when Norman a) takes one of Peter’s designs and unveils it without crediting him and also b) removes safety features from it to make it cheaper to manufacture it

Peter quits on the spot when he realizes Norman isn’t sorry for what he’s done and isn’t gonna make things right, and Norman threatens him with never getting to “work in this town again” and good luck proving those were his designs and Oscorp’s also keeping all of Peter’s other stuff that they’ve stolen from him

(This is about the time that Norman’s started taking the goblin serum so he’s just at absolute peak asshole™️ mode)

Within seconds of Norman telling Peter he won’t stand a chance against Oscorp’s legal team, especially as a broke college student, Matt Murdock shows up after sprinting towards them (his super hearing letting him hear the entire argument) to hand Peter his business card and let him know he’ll take his case pro-bono

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shoshiwrites · 5 months

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Band of Brothers Ages: IRL vs. Actors

Did you know that according to a 1947 study, almost half the men who served in WWII were still under age 26 by the end of the war?

What this is : A (very long) post comparing the ages of the actors in Band of Brothers vs. the IRL figures they are portraying.

Background: Did I need to do this? No. Did anyone ask for this? Also no. Did I do it anyway? Yes.

Disclaimers: This is SUPER approximate for the most part. I based IRL ages off of D-Day unless otherwise noted, and actor ages off of January 1, 2000, the year filming took place (the latter is where the most variation will be because I didn't try to figure out what month filming started). I also didn't fact-check birthdays beyond googling. Most are sourced from the Band of Brothers and Military Wikis on fandom.com, Wikipedia, and IMDb.

I broke them up into rough categories, which are, again, approximate. I know I often forget how young the real life people were here, and this was a good reminder of that. I also found it interesting to see which actors were actually younger than their roles!

Check it all out under the cut ⬇️

~10+ years older

Dale Dye (55) as Col. Robert F. Sink (39) (~16 years)

Michael Cudlitz (35) as Denver "Bull" Randleman (23) (~12)

Marc Warren (32) as Albert Blithe (20) (~12)

Rocky Marshall (33) as Earl J. McClung (21) (~12)

Frank John Hughes (32) as William J. Guarnere (21) (~11)

Neal McDonough (33) as Lynn D. (Buck) Compton (22) (~11)

Dexter Fletcher (33) as John W. Martin (22) (~11)

~5+ years older

Simon Schatzberger (32) as Joseph A. Lesniewski (23) (~9)

Richard Speight Jr. (30) Warren H. (Skip) Muck (22) (~8)

Jason O'Mara (30) as Thomas Meehan (22) (~8)

Ron Livingston (32) as Lewis Nixon (25) (~7)

Donnie Wahlberg (30) as C. Carwood Lipton (24) (~6)

Matthew Settle (30) as Ronald C. Speirs (24) (~6)

Nolan Hemmings (28) as Charles E. "Chuck" Grant (22) (~6)

Douglas Spain (25) as Antonio C. Garcia (19) (~6)

George Calil (26) as James H. "Mo" Alley Jr. (21) (~5)

Rick Gomez (27) as George Luz (22) (~5 year)

Scott Grimes (28) as Donald G. Malarkey (23) (~5)

Stephen Graham (26) as Myron "Mike" Ranney (21) (~5)

~less than 5 years older

Shane Taylor (25) as Eugene G. Roe (21) (~4)

Tim Matthews (23) as Alex M. Penkala Jr. (19) (~4)

Matthew Leitch (24) as Floyd M. "Tab" Talbert (20) (~4)

Peter O'Meara (30) as Norman S. Dike Jr. (26) (~4)

Tom Hardy (22) as John A. Janovec (18) (~4)

Rick Warden (28) as Harry F. Welsh (25) (~3)

Kirk Acevedo (28) as Joseph D. Toye (25) (~3)

Eion Bailey (25) as David Kenyon Webster (22) (~3)

Craig Heaney (26) as Roy W. Cobb (29) (~3)

Damian Lewis (28) as Richard D. Winters (26) (~2)

Robin Laing as Edward J. "Babe" Heffron (~2, 21/23)

Ben Caplan (26) as Walter S. "Smokey" Gordon Jr. (24) (~2)

David Schwimmer (32) as Herbert M. Sobel (33) (~1 year)

Michael Fassbender (22) as Burton P. "Pat" Christenson (21) (~1)

Colin Hanks (22) as Lt. Henry Jones (21) (~1) (age around Bastogne)

Bart Ruspoli (23) as Edward J. Tipper (22) (~1)

~Same age

Peter Youngblood Hills as Darrell C. "Shifty" Powers (21)

Mark Huberman as Lester "Les" Hashey (19)

Younger

Lucie Jeanne (23) as Renée Lemaire (30) (age around Bastogne) (~7)

Ross McCall (23) as Joseph D. Liebgott (29) (~6)

Simon Pegg (29) as William S. Evans (~33) (~4)

Philip Barantini (19) as Wayne A. "Skinny" Sisk (22) (~3)

James Madio (24) as Frank J. Perconte (27) (~3)

Stephen McCole (25) as Frederick "Moose" Heyliger (27) (~2)

Matt Hickey (~16) as Patrick S. O'Keefe (18) (~2)

Incomplete/not found

Phil McKee as Maj. Robert L. Strayer (34)

Rene L. Moreno as Joseph Ramirez (30)

Doug Allen as Alton M. More (24)

David Nicolle as Lt. Thomas A. Peacock (24)

Rebecca Okot as Anna (Augusta Chiwy) (24) (age around Bastogne)

Alex Sabga-Brady as Francis J. Mellet (23)

Mark Lawrence as William H. Dukeman Jr. (22)

Nicholas Aaron as Robert E. (Popeye) Wynn (22)

Peter McCabe as Donald B. Hoobler (21)

Marcos D'Cruze as Joseph P. Domingus (not found)

#ty mercurygray for that sweet sweet jstor access #band of brothers #uhh one more disclaimer it's entirely possible that i mistyped stuff here and that i switched ages/etc.#i did try to proofread though!#anyway. i apologize if anyone has already done this.#shoshi.txt #sort of #it's also very possible that i spent too much time online today

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slashingdisneypasta · 4 months

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MultiVillains x Reader || Reactions

Topic: You move into an apartment in a dodgy neighbourhood.

Characters Included: (Rarin'-to-Fuck) Buck, Dr Peter Andover, Erik Destler, Freddy Krueger, Bonus!Jason Voorhees, Ian Essko, Bonus!Madame Blavatski, Inkubus, Jim Bickerman, Bonus!Reba, Doom Room's MC, Minister Kratski, Stuart Lloyd, Wayne Jackson, Bonus!Norman Tyrus and Bonus!Dale Acton.

Tagging: @ghouletka , @grav3yardgirl , @marinerainbow , @masqueradeball , @thecourtofgraywaves , @yesthetrashbin and @your-mxnd-is-mxne .

Rarin'-To-Fuck Buck: *Stays right by the window where he can see his car so it doesn't get stolen* "Uh... nice place... " (You: Thank you! I was so jazzed to find it on the market!, it has a dishwasher and everythin- ) "I was kidding Y/N this place is a fucken dump. Lets go- "

Dr Peter Andover: "... no." (You: What. But- ) "We have rooms at the clinic, you can stay there." (You: I cant live at the clinic- ) "Ohhh yes you can."

Erik Destler: "Oh, this is near to the brothel I used to- Ehem. I mean, Y/N this is a very nice, uh... home... you found, here... " || He wants to sweep you away but also he doesn't want you questioning him on that first bit XD So I guess he's just gonna have to stalk you all the time ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ With love. For your safety.

Freddy Krueger: "You couldn't find an actual house?? Oh, and wouldja look at that! Guys with guns. *Waiving out the window* Hey fellas- " (You: Newsflash Fred its not the 60's anymore old man and you cant just b u y a h o u s e !! And put your hand down- )

Jason Voorhees: *Nope. No- Jason will not let you stay here XD He takes one look around, picks you up, and leaves.*

Ian Essko: "What filthy-fucking-hell... Oh! Wait wait wait- " (You: Don't you dare take out that black light Ian.) "What? Afraid of what you'll find in this house of horror!??"

Madame Blavatski: "Oh- this is nice. Lovely. I lived in a home just like this in my stripping days in Russia! Very lovely, very good. And you have drug dealers just two doors down, which is convenient. I already visited, they're very nice boys, and I bought you welcome-to-area 'blow'- da? They even gave discount!" *head pats*

Inkubus: *He's very calm, listening to you talk about it and show him all around, until the very end* "Y/N, love, may I ask something of you right now?" (You: Oh- sure? ^^) "Wonderful. Uh, don't be here between eleven and 3 tomorrow." (You: Why?- ) "Mmm, no particular reason... do you think these beams are good and flammable?" || If it is not clear- the man is going to burn your apartment building down so you don't live here, anymore.

Jim Bickerman: *He's been walking around peering out the windows shaking his head. When he finally looks at you waiting for his thoughts, he flashes a big smile.* "We're going gun shopping." (You: Oh no we are NOT- )

Reba: (You: So! ^^ What do you think?) "... well I noticed the police station a block away, I liked that feature."

The Doom Room's MC: "Well its better then my place, at least."

Minister Kratski: *not getting outta the limo*

Stuart Lloyd: "Y/N I saw some hooligans just down the street with switchblades. I don't think this area is safe." (You: Oh don't worry, I have a plan! ^^) "*Genuinely relieved* oh, great. Wh- what is it?" (You: I got these really big ass boots from the charity store- and I'm going to keep them just outside my door so everyone walking by thinks a lumberjack lives here!) "... ... Y/N- "

Wayne Jackson: *He's very quiet. Just wandering in and out of rooms, lookin' around* (You: ... Wayne, is everything okay?) "... preeetty sure I lived here in the 70's. Cant be sure, though." (You: Oh- ) *Pulls an open door away from a wall* "Ah! I did! Heheh, I made that w in bullet holes."

Norman Tyrus: "... no." (You: Norman- ) "Nope." (You: Not another place, Norman- ) "You're moving. You're not staying here." (You: I'm gonna stop showing you my new places.) "How about ya just find a place that doesn't have bullet holes in the front fucken door?" Dale Acton: "OH!!! I know those guys upstairs, I used to buy coke from them a couple years back! Until a deal fell through at least... hey, don't tell 'em you're with me. You'll be fine. We probably shouldn't be seen together, though, so uh... bye babe- "

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theteasetwrites · 2 years

Text

Sense

❧ Pairing: Alpha!Daryl Dixon x Female Omega!Reader ❧ Era: Season 2 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: SMUT—a/b/o dynamics (leave me alone), rough sex, oral (female receiving), fingering, doggystyle, unprotected sex, knotting (shut up), heat/rut (fuck you), outdoor sex (?), like one or two mentions of breeding, swearing, Shane being creepy ❧ Word Count: 9.2k

❧ Prompt: "What do you even see in this guy?" from the Norman Reedus Whores Discord Prompt Challenge (more info here)

❧ Summary: It's that time of year again, the time when yours and Daryl's highest point of sexual desire sync up. There are a few problems, though: Daryl's preoccupied with finding Sophia, and Shane is getting a little too... attracted to you.

❧ A/N: Here it is, my first foray into omegaverse. You either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain, as they say. I've become the villain. Nevertheless, I'm pretty happy with how this turned out and I didn't cringe too much while writing it so hopefully you don't cringe too much while reading it either (but it's ok if you do—omegaverse is always a little cringe).

Gold-tinted light streamed through the thin fabric of the polyester tent, allowing tiny particles of dust to shine as they floated past the ever-widening beam that shone across your eyelids, causing them to flutter open with a wince.

Something about summers in Georgia seemed to make the sun even more intense, and the heat that radiated from it even more oppressive. You wiggled yourself loose in his arms, tightly wrapped around you from the back. He always tended to cling tighter to you in his sleep, as if it was some kind of unconscious instinct.

With a huff, you turned on your side to face him, tucking your head between the crook of his neck and the pillow in an attempt to escape the bright light of early morning, and to cling to the last remnants of sleep for as long as you could.

It was also an excuse to take in his scent, strong and woody, yet somehow also soft and musky. By force of habit, he held you closer, his arm tightening over the curve of your side as his nose gently nuzzled your cheek, tickling you awake.

“Goddamn, it’s bright,” he mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut to keep the morning light from burning his eyes. Blue eyes are more sensitive to sunlight, and his were no exception.

“Mm…” you hummed. Despite your state of consciousness, you felt more like you were in one of those dreams that are so vivid they almost seem real, with fuzziness blurring the usually harsh edges of your perspective. Mornings were always like this, slow and quiet. Even with the world gone to shit, at least you still had this, that one constant—waking up next to him, in those bulky arms made muscular from years of hunting with that silly crossbow. Well, you used to think it was silly. Now you couldn’t complain, since it certainly came in handy against the walkers.

Ah, yes—the walkers. The only thing that could possibly ruin the peace of your morning. That, and Sophia was missing. Still missing.

Daryl had been beating himself up about it for the last three days, not able to rest a second since coming to the Greene farm. He was hellbent on finding the child, relating the situation to the time he’d been lost in the woods when he was even younger than her. Only difference for him was that no one cared enough to look for him.

But it was an inopportune time for the young girl to go missing. You could smell it on him.

A necessary fact of life. It would happen twice, maybe three times in any given year, but it was enough to threaten his ability to find that little girl. It was radiating off him stronger and stronger with each passing hour, starting around dawn just the day before. For Daryl, it came quick and fast, a scab demanding to be picked, an itch begging to be scratched, a biological imperative he had no choice but to succumb to at some point, but he was determined to keep it off as long as he had to.

You worried for him, knowing how strong his urge was, and how much it clouded his mind and ate at his insides. For some men like him, it was much less intense, much more tolerable. For him, however, it was nearly painful, but he had to put it off, he thought. He couldn’t put himself before that poor soul lost in the forest, before the grieving mother whose glassy eyes haunted him everyday that child was gone, in danger of being torn apart by flesh-eating monsters.

“Daryl,” you mumbled, feeling him begin to squirm restlessly against you. You knew him well enough to know he was trying to shake the rut out of him, trying to ignore it, though he knew it wasn’t good for him. You tried to hold him steady, pulling the blanket further up his body as if to keep him contained, but the fresh sweat beading on his bare chest was a reminder of just how terribly hot he already was. “Why don’t you stay here today, huh? Don’t go out there… Just rest.”

Just rest, a phrase that had been on your lips many times before, but always seemed to go unheard by the stubborn man. Such a suggestion was practically against the man’s religion, if he had cared enough to believe in one. There was less and less to believe in these days, anyway.

“Nah,” he replied gruffly, suddenly sitting up in your shared cot to squint in dismay at the sun streaming in. “That kid’s still out there.”

You huffed and watched him move like a rabid animal as he frantically searched for his clothes, cursing under his breath when he picked up one of your jeans instead of his. “Told ya to keep your clothes separate, woman,” he huffed, shaking his head as he buttoned up his raggedy plaid shirt.

“Mm,” you hummed with a smile, amused by his characteristic grumpiness, though you knew he was a little more irritable than usual, despite his denial. “Keeps my scent on you… Speaking of which…” You sat up to stretch, taking a deep breath as you did so. Even in your own state of slight discomfort, you were always much better at handling it than he was. “Your scent is getting stronger, you know.”

He tilted his head in slight annoyance, knowing that was your way of nagging him about his rut. “I’m fine,” he said simply. “Just stressed.”

You narrowed your eyes at the notion. “Your smell doesn’t get stronger when you’re stressed, Daryl. It gets stronger when you’re—”

“Damnit, woman!” he barked. “I ain’t ruttin’, Christ.”

“Mhm, sure… Well, my heat’s coming.”

Even after three years of being with you, he still turned a light shade of red whenever you so bluntly referred to sex. Still, if your heat was coming, that meant his rut was coming, too. At this point, they were synced, not an uncommon occurrence for mated alphas and omegas such as yourselves.

Daryl had never quite come to terms with being an alpha, but that’s what he was, and though he often found himself frustrated with his condition, at least he had you.

And, oh, you…

You with your scent, the one that he’d memorized and somehow could conjure up in moments when he needed you most, but that wasn’t good enough. He needed you next to him, physically. He always did. He knew that from the moment he first held you that he wouldn’t be able to go without you again, without feeling your closeness, or taking in your sweet, floral scent.

Sitting there before him, his ratty grey t-shirt two sizes too big draped over your shoulders, just perfectly accentuating the outline of your breasts as they rise and fall with each breath, you looked… ripe.

Ripe in that you were at your most delectable state, your highest point of primal attraction. You were always beautiful, of course, but in your heat, you were irresistible. He hadn’t been oblivious to it the past few days, weeks even. He knew your body so well now that he had your heat down to an exact science. He knew it was coming, and if your heat’s coming, then his rut is coming, but he didn’t have time for that now, not with the responsibility he had put on his own shoulders.

Still, it was hard to say no, hard not to get back in that cot and take you, tightly gripping your hot, aching body against his as his swelling knot grew inside you, binding you to him even long after he’d released himself into you.

No time for that, though. Not when he had a job to do.

“I know,” he said, acknowledging that you were on the verge of your heat, that you were going to need him just as much as he needed you soon. “But I gotta look.” He turned to strap his crossbow over his broad chest, the one that made you lick your lips just thinking about your hands all over the muscular tissue. “Gotta find that little girl.”

If there was one thing you loved about Daryl, it was his compassion, his willingness to risk his life to save the weak. Maybe most people didn’t get to see that side of him, but now that he had the opportunity, he could fully be the good man you always knew he was. It was sweet, but it was selfless. Too selfless.

You tossed the blanket from your body, exposing your bare legs to the air, drawing his eyes immediately to the darkened bit of fabric at the front of your panties, just barely covered by the hem of his shirt.

With your sudden movement, he caught a deep whiff of you, a more pungent scent than usual emitting from your core as you walked a few steps towards him.

The feeling of your hands on his chest sent a powerful signal to his brain, one that rang out like a siren, screaming at him to give in. He could tell what you were doing just by the flutter of your lashes, the smirk in your lip, the curl of your fingers as they trailed playfully up and down the collar of his shirt. You wanted him to touch you, to make that slight pain in your core go away before it got too intense, to rid you of that heat building up inside you like a house fire. He wanted that, too. It was impossible not to let your body press up against his, not to feel the hardness of your aroused nipples against his chest, not to rest his hands upon your hips as your forehead touched his.

“Please stay,” you whispered over his lips. “I need my alpha.”

Those words were strategically chosen. You knew reminding him of his possession of you, his omega, would get that chest of his pumped full of hot air and his cheeks reddened with a surge of blood flowing to his head. Not only that, but the possession in your voice, the tone that reminded him that he was yours just as much as you were his.

He could only muster a few deep, strangled sighs as your hungry lips pursed to kiss just below his ear, making his hands grip harder at your sides and pull you closer until he could feel your heat against his groin, your core getting hotter and hotter with each passing moment, and your scent becoming so irresistible that he found himself subconsciously, ever so slightly, grinding his lower body against yours.

With a turn of his head, he let your lips meet his, despite how much he knew he was just teasing himself, and you, now. There was no way he could stay, no way he could let that helpless child stay out there any longer. Still, if he could allow himself just one moment to satiate his need for you, he would, even if it only eased a small part of his primal lust.

“I want your knot,” you whispered sloppily, wildly as your tongue became more desperate to taste his, breaching the entrance of his mouth to lap up his taste.

He growled low at your words, his hand rising up to tangle in your hair and pull your face as close as it could get. The other hand found itself squeezing your bottom, fingertips digging into the plump flesh as he held you steady to better thrust himself against you, your slick beginning to seep through the thin fabric of your panties and onto the surface of his jeans.

“(Y/N)...” he panted. “I—I can’t…”

“Yes you can,” you panted back, now putting your own hand on the back of his head to pull his lips back to yours. When his lips peeled away, you used your free hand to drag his down to cup your clothed mound, allowing his fingers to graze the puddle of wetness. “My body needs you, Daryl… Just you. Only you.”

Another tried and true method for getting him to shut up and screw you, but the closest you got was thrusting back and forth on his palm, using it to relieve the slightest amount of tension from your aching body. It worked for a moment, but soon you nearly sent him backwards with the force of your body writhing on his hand, and you knew you couldn’t get anywhere with it—you needed the intense friction of his cock, the feeling of it pulsing inside you and hitting the deepest part of you just right.

“Oh, God,” your lips mumbled as they sloppily massaged his. “Fuck me now.”

He pulled his hand away swiftly, using it to separate his body from yours, as he was sure he couldn’t go another moment of being that close to you without ending up back on that bed.

“Later,” he said, followed by a hard swallow as he tried to calm himself down. Sweat beaded on his forehead, dripping down the side of his face and wettening the short strands of caramel brown hair stuck to either side.

His body heat showed no signs of dropping, not until he could get far away from you, and he could already tell that if he stayed with you today, he wouldn’t leave for hours after he’d knotted you. There was too much work to be done, and his own biological need would have to wait. He just hoped you could wait, too, though something about the deep, trembling frown dragging on your face told him you couldn’t. At least, not without some struggle.

“Hey,” he said, trying to muster up the strength to touch you without losing it. His hands cupped your cheeks, on fire from the sheer intensity of your internal heat. “I gotta try to find that kid. It’s eatin’ me up inside.”

You mustered a small smile. He was always so damn selfless, it infuriated you. Well, it was what made you fall in love with him, besides the innate biological attraction that drew you to him. Your life philosophy had always been this: there are plenty of alphas, but a good alpha is hard to come by. Daryl was a good alpha, the only one you could tolerate, the only one you could love. You were sure of that.

Soulmates… As cheesy as it sounded, you knew it from day one, from the moment he walked up to you in that sleazy dive bar, face blurred from the cigarette smoke curling in grey clouds all around him, his hands tucked deep in his jean pockets as he cleared his throat, then stuttered, “C-can I, uh… Can I buy ya a drink?”

If you couldn’t tell by his scent, you would’ve thought he was a beta, but his scent was always strong—you were sure it was because he was immediately attracted to you, and your scent hit him like a semi-truck, too. It was love at first… scent.

No, Daryl was unlike any other alpha male you’d ever met, but he was one. That was impossible to deny.

“I know,” you said with a nod. Lifting his hand from your cheek, you pressed a light kiss to his palm, then nuzzled deeper into his touch. That damn man’s hands... Being held by him felt like being a porcelain teacup carefully tucked away in layers of sturdy bubble wrap, cushioned and protected from any cracks that could threaten to mar your fragile surface. “But your rut is eating you up inside too… It’s not good to hold it back for so long.”

He rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t help but be grateful for your concern, even slightly amused by how precious you were. “Always naggin’ me, woman, ya know that?”

“Mm, you wouldn’t last a day without me nagging you,” you laughed. Biting your lip, you reached up to fix his hair, still scraggly from his pillow. He scrunched his face in exaggerated annoyance, though even he couldn’t help but muster a boyish smirk at your doting.

As your eyes met his, another deep surge of pained arousal swept through you, triggering more slick to pool in your already soiled underwear. It was tempting to strip yourself of your shirt, knowing such a sight would be the ultimate trigger to get him to lay you down, but in your heart of hearts, you knew he needed to do this for your group. If you had to wait, you would wait, but you couldn’t wait much longer, you feared.

“When will you be back?”

“‘Fore dark.” He huffed and pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek, as anything else might’ve been dangerous. Noticing your eyes lower in disappointment, he nudged his forehead against yours. “Hey, omega,” he said softly. “You gonna be okay til I get back?”

No, you wanted to say, but you knew that would be a bit dramatic. Still, you knew from past heats that your need for him only grew stronger when he was gone, and if you were already leaking with slick now, who knows how bad you might get in the meantime.

“Mhm,” you hummed. “I’ll be fine… I think. What about you?”

He scoffed playfully. “Woman, I’m gon’ be fine. Just be ready when I get back, a’right? I’m gonna need you even more.”

“Yes, sir,” you laughed. “Be careful, okay?”

“You too, and…” His voice trailed off, his face becoming less animated and more stern with each passing moment he went over the words he was about to say. “Stay in the tent.”

Never before had you gone through your heat around so many other alphas. Rick and T-Dog didn’t worry him much—Rick was married, bonded with Lori, and T-Dog seemed respectful of your bond with Daryl, but then there was… Shane.

Shane was an odd one in that though he was ostensibly an alpha, he seemed too emboldened, often disrespecting Daryl’s claim over you. On at least two occasions he had gotten much too close to you for your liking, and Daryl already had a pretty strong hunch that Shane had slept with Lori, a marked omega not unlike you.

It infuriated him, and he couldn’t even fathom how Shane could still be breathing at this point. If he caught even a whiff of that man on you, he’d strangle him with his bare hands, he was certain of it.

Knowing just how much Shane’s dilated eyes followed your body on a daily basis, he was sure your heat would attract him like a moth to a flame.

“Keep that thing on ya if you gotta go out,” he added, gesturing to the hunting knife he’d given you as it lay on the foldable bedside table. “That pig cop bastard touches you, I’ll—”

“He won’t touch me,” you interjected. “Your scent is strong enough to keep him away… My big strong alpha.” Your fingers tickled his chest as you smirked, holding back a chuckle at the cheesy compliment.

His heart fluttered, as it always did when you broke out the “big strong alpha” card. He was a sucker for it.

“A’right,” he said. “I love ya, sweet girl. Be back soon, hopefully with that kid.”

“Love you, too, Daryl.”

As he requested, you stayed in the tent for a while after he’d left, occupying yourself with the usual routine for your heat.

It wasn’t ideal, but the cot in your tent was the only place to make a nest of his clothes, a safe spot to immerse yourself in his scent until he came back to you.

Even that proved difficult, as you became quickly lightheaded, losing your balance each time you bent over to pick up another one of his shirts.

“Shit,” you cursed, holding your forehead and shutting your eyes tight to try to will away the dizziness. Every omega’s heat was different, and yours always had the worst dizziness, the worst fever, the worst throbbing pain in your womb.

It was your body’s instinctual way of demanding to be bred, and thank God you still had your birth control pills, even if your irrational, heat-ridden mind desperately wanted to carry Daryl’s child more than usual. There couldn’t be a worse possible time to bring a child into the world, you were sure.

The pounding in your head started now, in sync with each quickening beat of your anxious heart. It was as if the further Daryl got from the farm, the worse your symptoms became, the more every cell in your body screamed bloody murder in an attempt to call him back to you.

“Ah!” you quietly cried out. Doubling over in pain, you flopped yourself back onto the bed, its surface now draped in layers upon layers of every article of clothing Daryl had in his possession.

You buried your head in his pillow, trying desperately to surround yourself in his scent. It eased the pain slightly, tricking your mind into thinking he was there with you, holding you, but you lacked his warmth, his unique touch, the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat soothing you to sleep as he held his deflating knot inside of you.

You reached down to find his favorite white undershirt, the one that always had the strongest scent. In desperation, you tugged off your shirt and laid the undershirt over your bare breasts, massaging them over top of the fabric.

It couldn’t beat the real thing, the real feeling of his chest pressed up to yours, but at least you’d get more of his scent on you, and at least your sensitive nipples could feel the familiar tickle of the ribbed fabric of that old tank top.

“Daryl…” you moaned shakily under your breath. You hadn’t realized just how bad it was, how much your heat had worsened just within a matter of the three hours he’d been gone.

The wetness was beginning to soak through your new pair of panties. You reached down to slip your fingers below the fabric, scooping up the slick as you tickled your aching clit.

Even just a little sensation was too much, and not at all the sensation you needed. Your body needed Daryl’s touch, not yours, not anyone else’s but his. The feeling stung, made you flinch in combined pain and pleasure. It might not have been him, but your hand was going to have to do if you wanted any semblance of relief before he got back.

You thrusted hard against your hand, arching your back with each movement as you desperately tried to soothe your body. All you could do was try to trick your heat-induced brain into thinking he was there, touching you… And moments later, when your fingers dug into you, squirming as they went in deeper and pumped hard to stimulate you, it almost worked.

“Oh, yes…” you sighed. “Daryl… Oh—”

“(Y/N)?”

Shane’s voice made you shoot up, sitting up straight to face the opening of the tent where the man’s silhouette was displayed from the outside.

Shit, you thought to yourself. What the hell does he want?

“(Y/N), you in there?”

“Yeah,” you huffed, quickly redressing yourself in Daryl’s shirt, then crossing over to haphazardly step into a pair of sweatpants. “Gimme a sec.”

Now semi-decent, you unzipped the flap of the tent, and swiftly stepped out to close it, hoping Shane couldn’t see the nest you’d made, or the wet spot on the bed.

Instead, you felt his eyes on you, trailing up and down your shirt, narrowing at the slight hardness of your nipples, still aroused from your touching.

“Everything okay?” you asked him, hoping to get him to leave as soon as he showed up.

He shrugged and folded his arms. “I was gonna ask you the same question. Ain’t seen ya since yesterday… Been in your tent all day. Thought you’d be out, I don’t know… doin’ laundry or somethin’.”

You scoffed, slightly offended by the assumption, though it wasn’t like there was much else to do. “I’m not feeling great,” you said simply, but you were sure he could tell why.

Indeed, he could. The scent was enough, much more potent and sweeter than usual, yet with much more of Daryl’s heavy scent than he liked. It was a bitter reminder that you were claimed, and the smell repulsed him, yet only made him want to cover it with his own.

“I know,” he said. “Your, uh… Your scent.”

Embarrassment. That was the only word you could think of to describe how you felt, and annoyance at his invasion of your privacy, but you weren’t confrontational enough to say anything. Not like Daryl.

“Yeah, well, uh… Did you need something?”

He lifted two silver pails in each hand, and you already knew what he was going to ask.

“Was gonna see if you’d help me pump some water from the well, if you’re up to it. Everybody else is busy, and I could use another hand.”

You always did have a hard time saying no, even if you knew your body was weak with your heat, but water was important, and maybe it could take your mind off your condition until Daryl would return, you reasoned.

Still, it was awfully bold of him to ask that of you, knowing you were in heat, and that you were with Daryl. You did as Daryl had told you—you took your knife and carried it in plain sight in the holder on your belt.

Each step you took alongside that man towards the well made you ache even more. Every muscle burned, and every dizzy spell became stronger until you sat with a huff on the wall of the well, taking a sip of your canteen as Shane readied the rope to lower his bucket.

“You all right?” he asked.

“Fine,” you sighed. “Just… I get really winded when I’m… Yeah.”

Shane nodded, watching closely as the water dripped from your chin, trickling onto your shirt and down below your collar.

“Don’t envy you,” he said. “Never been more inconvenient timing…”

“No,” you agreed. “No there hasn’t.”

You watched as he lowered the bucket, then pulled it back up with a strain of his muscles. Show-off, you thought, catching onto his less than subtle attempts to seduce you.

Filling his canteen from the pail, he sat himself down beside you, much too close for comfort.

His smell wasn’t too strong, but strong enough to make you sick. Any alpha’s scent besides Daryl’s would’ve made you nauseous now, and with Shane so close, his shoulder touching yours, you felt the bile in your stomach begin to rise at the base of your esophagus.

If he hadn't been there, it would’ve been nice. The warm August breeze tickling the nearby wind chimes, the birds chirping in the golden light of late afternoon, the placid quiet that settled in when all other sounds ceased… And then he nudged your shoulder again, offering you a misplaced smile before wrapping a loose arm around your shoulder, causing your spine to straighten in slight shock at the feeling.

“You all right?” he asked, rocking you back and forth with his hand curled on your shoulder.

Your cheek twitched in disgust at the whiff of his scent, much more powerful than usual in your heightened state. Aware of his scent rubbing off on you, you wriggled uncomfortably, thankfully causing him to remove his arm.

“I’m fine. Just need to get back soon. If Daryl knows I didn’t stay in the tent he’d skin me alive,” you laughed nervously.

“Where is Daryl?”

“Oh, um… He’s out looking for Sophia. Trying that new lead near the abandoned house.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Thought he’d be here with you… With you like this.”

That’s none of your damn business, you thought, but of course, you were much too nice to say that, so instead you defended him.

“Well, he knows how much it means to everyone if we find her… He cares.”

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, thinking about him, his selflessness, his bravery, his kindness. Maybe he didn’t always show it, but ever since he lost Merle, he’d been coming into his own, embracing his true nature instead of trying to be something he wasn’t.

“Pfft,” he scoffed, and just that simple, dismissive sound was enough to get your blood boiling. “Think he oughta care more about you.”

“He cares a lot about me,” you quickly replied. “You don’t know anything about Daryl.”

“I know he should be here takin’ care of you…” He leaned closer looking you forcefully in the eye. He had a much more stern, intense look than you’d seen in him before.

His hand caught you off guard as he tugged on the collar of your shirt, revealing Daryl’s mark on the junction of your neck and shoulder. “Hey!” You pulled away, standing up to your feet and looking back at him with wild, confused eyes. He’d never touched you like that before, and it terrified you, knowing how many male alphas could turn violent at the drop of a hat, and Shane was particularly volatile, more so than Daryl or Rick or T-Dog. He was the only one who truly frightened you at times, and immediately you cursed yourself for agreeing to go anywhere with him.

He stood up to pull harder on you, tugging more at your shirt collar to glare at the scar made by the indentation of Daryl’s teeth over years of him marking you in that same spot.

“What do you even see in this guy?” he asked. “Sorry excuse for an alpha.”

You pulled away one last time, nearly ready to pull out your knife if you needed to.

“Fuck you,” you replied. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. Don’t have to explain shit to you, Shane. I came out here to help, not to listen to you insult Daryl.”

You sidestepped around him to lift the filled pail. “I’m taking this back to camp. You can do the rest on your own,” you said, but he planted himself firmly in front of you, pushing you back towards the well. “Shane,” you said, “get out of my way.”

Before you knew it, he was lunging towards you, eyes locked on the crook of your shoulder, opposite of Daryl’s mark. If he’d gotten any further, you were sure he’d try to mark you by force.

Holding your knife to his neck, you pushed him away with all the strength you had. “What the hell is wrong with you?” you panted.

He shook his head, as if trying to shake out whatever desires he had. “I—I don’t…”

You didn’t wait for him to explain himself. There wasn’t any way he could, after all. He had come close to violating you, to marking you as some kind of encroachment upon you, upon Daryl’s mate.

The breeze hit you as you walked, wafting Shane’s faint smell up into your flaring nostrils. That bastard, you thought. The nerve… I can’t stand his fucking smell.

You couldn’t bear to bring that scent into your tent, so you sat several yards away from the camp, perched on a log as you hugged your legs against your chest, trying to let the scent of Daryl’s shirt envelop you.

That, and it seemed to be the only solution to easing your cramps, twice as bad as your run-of-the-mill menstrual cramps. The heat was unbearable as the sweat on your brow dripped and caught in your eyelashes, clouding your vision for a moment. You balled your fists and rubbed your eyes, and all the while, you swore you could smell Daryl’s scent getting stronger, as if it was carried by the breeze that gently flowed through your hair.

It was hypnotic, drawing your eyes up to instinctively look in the direction of the wind.

There he was, strutting towards you across the grassy field, sweat glistening on his bare, summer-tanned arms as his eyes narrowed at you. His look was somewhere between scolding and smoldering, with a heavy dose of desperation thrown in.

One thing was certain: he had one thing in mind when he saw you.

Picking up his pace and stepping with long strides, practically jogging, he tore his crossbow from his back and flung it to the ground, a coarse grunt combined followed by a deep huff as he swiftly moved closer, like a caged tiger about to be let out.

“Daryl?” you called out to him. You found yourself walking towards him, too, eyes locked on his heaving chest as his hands frantically worked to unbutton the top of his shirt.

The closer he got, the stronger his musky, earthy scent became—more potent and virile, more intoxicating as his energy surrounded you.

His hands separated now, one tugging on the middle button of his shirt, the other desperately loosening his belt buckle, the movement allowing the toned muscles of his arms to flex in the glow of the golden afternoon.

He’d been unsuccessful in his search, and the frustration of not finding Sophia only made his instinct stronger, his need greater, his arousal becoming more and more unbearable the longer he looked at you.

As he approached, there was only one thing on his mind, one sole purpose for him to commit to in that moment: taking you, filling you, breeding you.

Now with both hands on his belt, freeing the leather from the loops of his jeans, he dropped it carelessly, then quickly moved to the button.

He was only about two yards away, but it was too far. Your feet picked up the pace, until finally you were in his arms, limbs and tongues tangled around each other, breaths heavy and chests heaving, cores hot and aching.

Shane’s lingering scent didn’t even occur to you then, not even as Daryl’s nose sank into the crook of your neck, his hand pulling back the collar of your shirt as his tongue traced over the raised scar of his mark, tickling you.

Your own hands clung tight to his shirt, nearly tearing it as with every passing moment you became more frenzied, more impatient to feel his hot, bare skin under your fingertips.

When the warmth of his mouth slowly left your shoulder, and his rose up to narrow at you, somewhere between hunger and primal rage, you panicked, grasping his sweat-drenched cheeks in an attempt to pull his lips to yours. He pulled back with a low growl.

“Why’s his scent on you?”

Your hands tightened on his cheeks as you turned to stone, wanting nothing more than to ignore his questioning and carry on with the natural conclusion of your synced biological states. Daryl, however, was not going to forget so easily.

He knew you would never sleep with Shane. That was out of the question. Besides, if you had, Shane’s scent would’ve been much, much stronger, but it was concentrated on your shoulders, and it was fading, but repulsive nonetheless.

“He—”

“That bastard touch you?”

You froze for a moment, simultaneously terrified of the inscrutable look in his eyes, and aroused by the very same look.

“Tryin’ to put his filthy scent on ya?” he asked, more demandingly now, and yet with an oddly lustful lilt to his otherwise angered growl. “I’ll kill him… I’ll—”

“He barely touched me.”

Under your fingers, you felt his cheeks trembling in rage, his skin heat up from the inside out. He looked ravenous—out for blood, Shane’s blood. You couldn’t care less about that, though, as your body screamed to be touched, begged to be put out of its misery from the only person who could ever relieve you.

“He’s not my alpha,” you reminded him. “You are.” Even just a matter of moments was too much to handle like this, with the heat oppressing you from every possible angle, suffocating you. Being away from Daryl during this time was hard, but being too close and not having him touch you was worse.

You lifted your shirt above your head, rustling your hair in the process, then hurriedly removed your bra, finally freeing half your body from its cloth prison. Under normal circumstances, you’d never strip yourself out in the open, but right now? You were far enough from the camp not to care, and the heat was closing in all around you.

Pupils dilated, swallowing the usually gentle blue in a black hole of lust, his eyes glued to your bare breasts. If your goal was to distract him from his fury, it was working.

“Alpha,” you said softly, wrapping your arms around his hot, clammy neck, drenched in sweat that could’ve been from the Georgia summer heat, but you were sure it was also just his condition, his rut taking over every function of his aching body. “You’re the only one… My mate.”

His eyes darted to your shoulder, his mark. It was his physical reminder that you belonged to him, that the first time you made love during your heat, he loved you enough to leave that unique, intimate mark in the shape of his teeth, one he’d never given to anyone else before, and never would again.

Most of all, it reminded him that no one else could touch you, that he was the only man who could know the intensity of your sweet scent, the softness of your body, the sounds of your heavy whimpers as he filled you until his knot swelled, keeping him in place.

When his fingers trailed along the raised skin of your scar, you shivered at his touch. His face turned soft, yet strained with lust. Tilting his head, his other hand held your chin, maneuvering your head so he could nudge his nose against your cheek, his heavy breath blowing gentle, yet insistent, puffs.

His lips softly brushing against your face, he whispered in your ear: “You need me, huh?”

Clutching your hands to his shoulders, desperate to tug off his shirt, you whimpered under your breath, sighing deeply all the while.

“Omega needs ‘er alpha?” he asked lowly against your ear.

Unable to restrain yourself any longer, your hands scrambled up to tangle in his hair, pulling his lips to yours.

“Now,” you mumbled into his mouth. “Need you… now…”

He nodded frantically as he worked to undo the last buttons on his shirt, then carelessly tossed the fabric to the ground.

“Right here?” he asked, panting between kisses. Usually, such an idea would be out of the question for the private man, who never liked the idea of being so vulnerable out in the open like this, but he didn’t care much now. The tightness in his jeans and the dull ache all throughout his body made him lose sight of that, as much as he could. Privacy be damned. “Ain’t… ain’t you w-want your… nest?”

Shaking your head vehemently as his lips chased yours, desperate to cling to them, you pulled him down with you as you lowered yourself to the ground, until you sunk down into blades of sage green grass, faded by exposure from the hot summer sun.

Daryl’s laugh melted on your tongue like an ice cube, its cadence swallowed by your open mouth as you devoured him.

His weight on top of you provided some relief, but it wasn’t enough. What you needed was his body inside of yours, inhabiting it, reminding you again and again just who it belonged to. You didn’t really need the reminder, of course, but the thought of belonging to him was all the more arousing.

Your eyes were squeezed shut in tranquilized bliss when his body weight shifted, and he quickly pulled your pants and sodden underwear down to your ankles, where you kicked them off with a wiggle.

Before you knew it, his hands were hiking up the back of your thighs, resting them on his shoulders as he dove down to lick the slick that had settled between your folds. As the tip of his tongue swirled around your clitoris, your shoulders tensed and you let out a sharp hiss. It was already so sensitive, aching for more friction to stimulate the bundle of nerves.

He lowered his hand to curl two of his thick, calloused fingers inside of you, while his tongue sucked and lapped at the sensitive bud that begged for attention.

“Ah!” you cried out wildly, shaking as your hands gripped the grass, pulling it out in frustration. His fingers were not yet deep enough to relieve you of your desire, but his tongue moved so expertly that with each swirl you felt a new little shockwave pulse through you. “Yes! Oh!”

His fingers sank deeper now, pulling in and out of you rapidly, the palm of his hand hitting your sensitive outer parts each time.

Peeling his mouth away, he watched as the clear liquid pooled onto his hand, the slick glistening in the last light of the golden summer afternoon.

“Never seen ya make this much, girl,” he panted, pumping faster and faster to get you properly loosened up. After all, his knot would need enough room to sink inside you. “All this pretty slick… Just for me.”

With that curl of his fingers, you gasped, arching your back and throwing your arms over your face as you tried not to scream, but the feeling was intense. You were always so much more sensitive in your heat, and however he touched you, you were going to feel it ten times as strong.

“F-fuck!” you croaked out against your arm. The harder he went, the more your voice stuttered, the more your body bounced with his hand burying into you. “Alpha-a-a!”

“Shhh,” he said, holding his finger to his lips as he leaned over you, his other hand ceasing its harsh movement to gently caress your aching clit. “Keep it down, girl.”

He looked quickly back in the direction of the camp and the Greenes’ farmhouse, hoping they were still a good distance away, and that the view of the two of you couldn’t be so easily seen from behind the bushes and the smattering of oak trees.

Lunging up to fling your arms around him, he grabbed onto you in surprise at the sudden movement, and huffed as your lips attacked his cheeks, then trailed down to his mark, the small indentation of your own teeth on his shoulder.

His hand didn’t forget its job, though. He cupped your mound to once again penetrate you with his fingers, spreading them open inside you to better stretch you out.

As his fingers dug into you, your teeth sunk into his flesh, reopening the old wound once again until a few drops of blood could be tasted on your tongue.

He held you tighter with his other arm, digging his fingernails into your back as he groaned. “(Y/N)…”

In a fit of impatience, you reached down to begin tugging his unzipped pants from his body. He smirked against your lips, amused by how much you needed him. He needed you, too, though. It was torture not to be inside you, but he knew himself well enough to know he could hold out for a while, though not for long.

He maneuvered himself to help you remove his jeans, your hands constantly fighting with his, though both had the same goal. Both of you were wild, returned to a primal state of need and desperation. You were bound to each other by flesh and scent, and it only made the need for each other so much stronger, so unbearable in the most blissful way. It was torture, it was agony, and yet it was the most pure, beautiful feeling of yearning.

When he was bare, unburdened by the restraints of his clothes and now free in his natural state, he bent his knees under your thighs, and with his hands, pulled you up to his core until the tip of his cock met your slit.

He cursed himself for losing his patience, as the feeling of you grazing against him sent a sharp electrical current through him, more potent than anything he’d felt before.

“Fuck,” he cursed, holding you tighter by your lower back as he lowered you onto his cock.

Your head once again buried in his shoulder, you groaned as he let you sit, his cock burrowing deeper every second. “Oh, God… Daryl…”

“Just… stay still for a minute.”

He took a deep breath, holding you in your position as you sat upright with his legs underneath, and his cock now as deep as it could go. All you needed was for him to move and you’d be writhing, with an imminent release soon upon you, but he just needed the stillness for a moment, to bask in the feeling of completeness, of filling you perfectly and so effortlessly, as though your bodies were made for each other.

He felt your slick drip down his inner thigh, and with that, he fell forward, taking you down with him until your back was once again against the grass.

“Oh!” you cried in shock.

His hand trailed up your sides, then in a split second, he pinned your arms above your head, just as he began violently thrusting, hovering over you with an intense look of purpose.

His thrusts were fast, sloppy, wild… Yet his cock was angled so perfectly, and the friction of his body hitting your clit with each movement was inching you closer and closer to the climax, the one you needed to feel relief from your heat.

Usually, he went slower, much more precise and sensual, but in his rut, he couldn’t hold back like he did. It was pure, uninhibited, primal lust, and you felt it, too. Clenching your teeth and letting out a hiss, you struggled to tug your arms out from the grip of his hands. Sensing this, he loosened his hands, allowing you to lean up to pull him to your face, his body still wildly moving in and out of you. Your head leaned in to catch his lips with yours, and soon your tongues were inside the other’s mouth, swirling around in untamed circles.

You always needed the closeness of him, to feel his chest pressed against yours, so you held him tight as his cock pumped back and forth within the walls of your twitching entrance.

With a strained grunt delivered straight to your gaping mouth, he reached down to manually wrap your legs tight around his lower back. Your heels dug into his ass, keeping him steady for a moment as he paused inside of you to take a breath.

In the crook of your neck and shoulder, he kissed your mark. Mirroring his action, you did the same to his, while the nails of your tightly drawn fingers made shallow scratches in the skin of his back.

“Shit,” he mumbled. “You feel so good, omega.”

You laughed and grabbed his cheeks to turn his face back to yours. He looked a sight—red blotches adorning his cheeks, hefty beads of sweat trickling down his strained forehead, lips quivering and drenched in your saliva and slick. Sweat-soaked hair framed his face as the darkened strands stuck to the skin. Redness had even pooled in his chest, which heaved exhaustingly over yours.

As he caught his breath, you snaked your hand between your bodies, lowering it to your clit. The closer you got to your orgasm, the more stimulation you needed to maintain the tingly feeling in your core, so you circled your finger rapidly, feeling yourself on track towards bliss.

The sudden attention made you flinch and clench around him, sending him grunting as his eyes squeezed shut. “Fuck!” he groaned. “Ah, yeah… Shit, you’re gonna make me come.”

He pumped himself inside you again, hitting your most sensitive spot while you touched yourself, and it was only a matter of seconds now until you reached your peak. He knew that, too. His body was in sync with yours by now, and soon your bodies would be locked together, but first you needed to have your own release.

Still, he felt his knot begin to form around the base of his cock, swelling as he moved back and forth. As he hit into you, your entrance stretched more and more, preparing for your orgasm, and his knot.

“Oh, God!” you whimpered. “I—I… Daryl…”

“I got ya…” he panted back, in that deep, raspy whisper. “Come for your alpha…”

It was the last straw, the last little bit of motivation you needed as he thrusted into you harder, and your walls began to pulse with each shockwave of your orgasm.

Your body went limp underneath him as your mouth hung open to release a series of low moans. “Jesus…” you sighed.

He smiled and lowered himself to kiss you, taking in every labored breath. “I love you,” he said.

“I love you, too,” you laughed deliriously.

He lifted his head back up, holding himself above you with his arms outstretched to support his body weight as he began to thrust again.

But he could sense something that froze him in place, a whiff of putrid scent lingering on the breeze.

“Shit,” he huffed.

Catching the last remnants of Shane’s scent, he growled and pulled himself out with a small cascade of your arousal.

“Turn around,” he said lowly.

Not waiting for you to answer, his hands gripped either side of your waist to maneuver your body until you were on all fours. “Daryl,” you panted in surprise.

The incessant pounding in his head was too loud to hear your voice call out to him, too loud to hear your strained whimper as his cock filled you again, this time with his knot so close to its most swollen state.

You felt his body align with yours, gluing itself to your back. His teeth dug hard into your flesh, with each deep, purposeful thrust making you groan in combined pleasure and pain.

To his frustration, Shane’s scent became stronger, more potent. It was sickening, but you couldn’t even notice it, not when Daryl’s scent surrounded you in a thick, hazy cloud.

No, you didn’t notice. You couldn’t even see Shane approaching in the distance, but Daryl did.

He growled against your shoulder, eyes glowering to meet Shane’s as he froze in place. He must’ve been going out to collect firewood, as he usually did around this time, but that was of no consequence to Daryl, whose rage-induced lust only got stronger.

Shit, he saw Shane’s lips move to say. He was too far away to hear, but still close enough to see the look of panic, and jealousy, on his face.

Under normal circumstances, Daryl would’ve jumped up and ran to put his clothes on, but there wasn’t going to be any separation of your bodies now, not even if he tried. He couldn’t betray his primal need, and neither could you. Besides, it was the perfect opportunity to let Shane know just who you belonged to.

“Oh, fuck!” you blurted out as his body thrusted hard into you, his cock penetrating the deepest part of your insides. “Daryl!”

He dug his teeth deeper into your shoulder, making you cry out once again. “Alpha!”

“That’s right,” he panted into your ear. “I’m your alpha… Scream for me.”

“Oh, yes! Daryl!”

He didn’t want you to keep it down now. With Shane near, that hideous reminder of his scent on the air, he needed you to scream, to let the bastard know once and for all that you were bound for life to him, no one else.

Shane was still dumbfounded, intrigued by the sight, but repulsed, too. He simply couldn’t look away, until Daryl’s snarl became so violent that he found himself backing away, finally yielding to the superior man, the superior alpha.

Daryl’s lip quirked slightly to one side. His show of dominance had worked. He could be embarrassed about it later, but now? Now, he felt his knot swell up again, almost so big now that he could no longer pull himself out.

You felt it, too, the tightness at your entrance as his knot stretched you much further than it had in a long time. He could only knot during his rut, but you knew this was no ordinary rut.

“Feel that?” he sloppily groaned against your shoulder. “Feel my knot?”

Rendered speechless, you nodded frantically as your arms threatened to fold underneath you. They shook to stabilize you, but soon his body stopped moving entirely, and all you could feel was that knot keeping him in place, seconds before his climax.

“Fuck!” he cried out. “Shit, I—I’m…”

You felt his cock begin to twitch deep inside you, spreading his spend in the deepest recesses of your core, where you felt his warmth embrace you.

With a gasp, your arms finally gave out, taking Daryl down with you, and with your head buried in the grass, you let out a deep sigh of relief. Something within you switched off, and finally, your heat was over.

Exhaustion swiftly took over Daryl, and he rolled onto his side with you in his arms, and you knew the two of you would be like this for a while, possibly all night. His knot would take hours to go away, it usually did.

You felt his lips gently purse against the skin of your neck, repeating several times as he worshipped you and the taste of your sweat.

“Shit, that was good,” he huffed, laughing a little to himself at the look on Shane’s face. Soon he’d find himself fuming again, needing to throw a few choice words at the insufferable man, but he’d rather bask in the afterglow for now. Besides, he was king of the jungle now, as far as he was concerned.

Blissfully unaware of the situation, you giggled and wrapped your hand around his. “Mm, so good… And you tried to tell me you weren’t rutting.”

He shook his head and bit your neck just a little, eliciting a small faux whimper from you. “Hey!” you laughed.

“You know just how to push my buttons, huh?”

“Better than anyone else.”

Holding each other in the grass, night fell over you like a blanket, and soon all you could hear were crickets and toads, and the faint tinkling of the wind chimes from the Greene house porch.

Soon you were lulled to sleep, with Daryl just barely dozing off, but he tried to keep awake, in case of the off chance a walker stumbled out of the woods.

In the morning, he’d have to corner Shane, to further reiterate the point he tried to prove earlier, to reassert his dominance.

That could wait, though. For now, he just held you, wondering what you were dreaming about.

He just hoped he was in it.

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grogusmum · 1 month

Text

Class of 1974 Taking Chances Part 3: All In

Javier Peña X F!Reader

RATED: EXPLICIT 18+

WORD COUNT: 1800ish

WARNINGS: oral sex (f receiving) some swearing, As always, see something? Say something. Pop into my DMs and let me know so I can add anything I overlooked.

SERIES SUMMARY: Javier graduated from high school in 74', it's 1989. On a sort of whim he decides to go to his class reunion and sees his old flame, you.

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Javi arrives in Vermont and is ready to take the plunge.

Part 2

Javier turns onto a dirt road, passing three large mailboxes, the faded red one has your last name and a little handprint in sky blue on it. A rippling hayfield and what has to be an ancient beech tree complete with a tire swing are to his left and an old stone wall with raspberry canes growing through it on his right. Javier can’t help but think he's entered a Norman Rockwell painting, and wonders if he's up for that, if he can fit into that. A DEA agent, who bent the rules into pretzels "to get the bad guy".

He has to take this chance; he knows he will regret it if he gets cold feet. Like last time with you and then with Loreena.

Driving past the tree, the road bends to the left and a farmhouse with an attached barn, common in New England, comes into view. A kid in overalls is in the dooryard with a black dog. He turns and calls into the house.

Then there you are, t-shirt, jeans, and tall Wellington boots, a pair of work gloves in your hand, and all trepidation washes away. Javier gets fully out of his fastback and swings the door closed. His hands settled on his belt. He looks down at his shoes and then tilts his head up a tick, his eyes raised to meet yours, eyebrows up in question.

Is this okay?

"Javi?" You ask, astonished, a smile nevertheless spreading across your face. Then you break into a run, gloves forgotten in the grass as you all but crash into him. His arms immediately wrap tightly around you; your feet leave the ground for a moment.

"You're here," you confirm, "you're h- I - wait, is everything okay?"

Your last conversations have been hard ones, Vermont and Texas are just so far, it feels more than just distance when it's not temporary. You feel it’s unfair to ask him to come to Vermont, to give up on his work and be so far from his father, and Javier knows you have a whole life here, making a living as a farmer, no easy feat these days, not to mention with a kid to raise.

"I thought we agreed long distance wasn't cutting it."

"It wasn't," Javier cups your cheek, his eyes roving your features with adoration.

"But I thought we- we decided... what's changed?"

"Me," Javier looks you full in the face, his chestnut eyes trained softly on yours. "I've changed, and I want you, wherever you are."

The corners of your eyes prickle, and you shake your head slowly in awe. Taking his face in your hands, his beautiful face, and slot your lips to his. You're glad he's got a good hold on you because your legs may never work properly again. When you finally come up for air, Javier takes his aviators off and looks at you, his eyes glassy too.

“Come on inside, let's have some lunch,” you take one of his fingers and give it a gentle tug as you lead him in the house. You give him a lopsided smile over your shoulder, and he huffs a laugh, again and again he wonders how he ever let go of you.

On the porch, you give your son, Benjamin a nod to come into the house he and Murphy the Dog, comply together.

Javier first smells the savory soup that must be on the stove. There's music playing from a radio. He takes in the house, from the outside it’s a picture of Americana, inside it's far more eclectic. The plaster walls above the wood wainscoting are painted in colors, rooms of sky blue, barn red, sage green… the floors are hodgepodge some are stained a warm honey color, while others have been painted, old folk art hook area rugs warming them up. Your love of theater, music, movies, and books is evident, from the marquee posters, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and instruments, not just an upright piano that looks like it came from a school but a guitar, ukelele, some instruments he doesnt recognize, and some kind of brightly colored hand drum beside a basket of equally colorful small percussion instruments. Then Javier remembers you saying in the winter you run a sort of music playgroup for little kids to help pay the bills.

Your kitchen is sunny yellow, large with a high tin ceiling with fans hanging down. It feels like the center of the house, it’s heart. Not only a large round scrubbed wood table with plentiful mismatched chairs, but an overstuffed armchair by a pillow covered window seat that looks like an adult could sleep on. The music is coming from a radio/turntable console that has to be from the 40’s or 50’s.

It's all exactly you, and he can’t believe this is the first time he is seeing it. Part of the reason things weren’t working probably; the plan was to save on travel by “meeting in the middle” when you could get together. Then the rest was letters and phone calls, but that at 38¢ a minute... they were not long. He needed to see your life, and you needed to see his. But he didn’t want to show you that. Sure, he gave you the broad strokes, not really wanting to get into details. Another reason… what’s that, strike two? He can't mess up the next pitch.

“You look like you see a ball and chain in the corner,” you murmur, trying to disguise anxiety with sass.

“Nope, just realizing I should have come here months ago, babydoll.”

You smile, relief in your eyes.

“This is Benji,” you say pulling your son to a side hug. Murphy starts smelling Javier, closely. “And 'nosy Joe' here is Murphy.”

“Hi Benji. Your mom’s told me a lot about you, I’m Javi.” Javier pulls back his hips protectively and gives the Labrador a hand to smell. Chuckling, he murmers, “Murphy, huh?”

“Ben,” you say, with a nod at Murphy.

“Yeah sorry, come on Murph get out of there,” your son pulls Murphy away, “Sorry.”

After grilled cheese with soup and chatting with Benji about school (it’s okay) and baseball (I can’t believe we came in third! My favorite is Boggs), Benji asks if Javi brought his gun. (Earning a stern Benjamin Oliver! from you and a wink and a nod from Javi), and you encourage Benji to show Javier the farm while you clean up.

"Sure!" The boy bounds through the house, "come on!"

Javier kisses your forehead and follows.

"You work on a ranch?"

"Mmhm, it's my father's, it's big"

"Ours is small, just a few goats, sheep, chickens... we have two horses. Mom told me you have a cattle farm"

"Yep, cows and horses to wrangle them."

"Knock, knock."

Javier is quite for a beat from the abrupt switch, then smiles-

"Who's there?"

"Impatient cow."

"Impatient cow wh-"

"MOOOOO" Benji cuts across, and Javier gives him a satisfying burst of surprised laughter. He ruffles the boy's head-

"That's a good one, Ben. I needed a good knock knock joke."

Javi brings his overnight bag upstairs. Your room is a soft coral. The bed is tall, with a whitewash spindle headboard and a crazy quilt spread, complete with a calico cat at the end of it, who looks at Javi nonplussed.

“There is a bathroom off of my room, right through the closet- yeah, old houses,” you shrug.

After putting his bag on the cedar chest at the end of the bed, Javi reels you in for a kiss.

“So did I hear Benji go outside?”

You laugh, kissing him.

“Yeah, he went over to the neighbors, I told him we needed to talk about some stuff.”

“Talking’s good. But mmm, I can think of other ways to-“

Javi's hand cradles the back of your neck as he comes in for another deeper kiss. You hum a little at the taste of his lips and his mustache's rasp. You bring your pelvis in to meet his, which is taken as a green light. With the smooth grace of someone practiced, Javi brings your shirt over your head with hardly a break in his feast on your mouth, jaw, and neck. You unbutton his shirt hastily, and not as smoothly – it's been a while, and you aren't nearly as skilled. But you are gifted a soft groaning, ‘fuck’ when you dip your head to his now bare chest, and let your teeth graze one of his nipples. Javier backs you toward the bed. When you're spread out, legs dangling off the edge, he unbuttons your jeans, peeling them off you like a present he is looking to savor, as you watch on your elbows. Your bra and underpants remain. You sit up and pull at his buckle. Javier watches you, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you work his buckle open and off, then unbuttoning his jeans. He remembers his shoes and toes them off quickly, not wanting to lose momentum. Looking at you mostly bare, soft curves, silver stretch marks from carrying Benji, just gorgeous. His head shakes almost imperceptibly, thinking about the first time you “met part way” when you weren’t in a dark cramped car, when he could see you properly for the first time in fifteen years-

“Bonita, babydoll, you’re so beautiful… the years I missed-“

“We’ve got plenty of time, Javi, plenty.”

“I wish-“

“Me too. But we are here now.”

“We’re here now.”

You tug his pants down and pull him onto you, bringing him back to the present.

Javier tucks his narrow hips between your thighs, his elbows holding his torso over you, he searches your face-

“I never stopped loving you.”

“Me neither,” your hand goes into his hair, giving a soft tug at the curls on the nape of his neck, Javier gives a growl and kisses you hard on the lips, its teeth and tongue, nips and licks. When you give an involuntary buck, his smirk is dangerous. He licks his bottom lip and his eyes track down your body, his eyebrows quirk like he’s deciding something. Suddenly he’s off you.

“Jav, what are y-" your confused query becomes a gasp.

Javier puts his mouth on your clothed mound.

“Shit,” you breathe.

Javier’s nose nudges at your clit, making your legs quiver, then he takes the elastic of your undies in his teeth and he draws them down slowly, his fingers looping the sides to help them along.

Your chest rises and falls quickly with anticipation, as you look at the ceiling. His breath fanning over your center tells you right where he is, and then the flat of his tongue draws a stripe from your entrance to your clit.

“Nectar of the gods, babydoll,” Javier moans and makes a meal of you.

Your head is heavy on his chest as you doze, which is no longer tight, and your quiet snores are like music, a comforting song. The afternoon sunshine streams in the open window. He watches the curtains flutter and dust motes dance in the disturbed air, as he hears birds, he doesn’t know. He is in uncharted territory and he has no plans to fuck it up. You are his compass, and years of what not to do is his map.

Before falling to sleep, he showed you his skeletons, you know what he’s done.

You will talk more. About about him, and his work. About what life might look like up here for him, like a warning. You'll stumble over the term 'stepdad', not wanting to presume… but you need to know for Benji, if he really wants this. And he does want it-

All of it.

THANK YOU FOR READING 💚

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