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jomsimagination · 1 month

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totga || rosita espinosa

rosita espinosa x reader

warnings; just some cussing, suggestive sexual themes

it all started with one drunken night, rosita’s my best friend, we’re close, and when she found alcohol, of course i’m the first one she offers to drink with. one cup was all i said, but soon turned into two, three, four. and so on, thus leading into the next morning, laying on her bed, her arms wrapped around me, a regrettable hangover, and night.

while we were exploring an abandoned street, i decided to look inside a music store, finding destroyed music disks and many more. “aw such a waste.” i mutter under my breath, but looking behind the counter to see a perfect still intact sony walkman, and on the drawer was two cassettes. “this, this is heaven.”

“really? that’s what you felt when you were with me though, not to brag.” she startled you, on purpose, walking inside. “finders keepers.” i say, putting the cassette tapes inside my bag. “wasn’t gonna steal.”

“what do you want.” i sternly say, searching for some tech pieces, “you. i know that you like me. for a long time now, glenn told me.” she chuckled, as my mouth dropped since she told me that my snitch of a friend told her. “i am so gonna kill him.” i huffed, almost walking past her but she stops me.

“y/n. you can’t keep ignoring me forever. i like you too.” she whispered, as her hand held my cheek, making me look up at her, since she was slightly taller and i was looking away from her, our lips almost touched, but i already felt fireworks, and since almost is the word. glenn walked in, making us back away from each other.

clearing my throat, with a stern and angry expression visible in my face, “what do you want.” i say, with gritted teeth, but still managed to smile. “we have to go now.” glenn explained, “give me a second.” then turned to look to rosita while i wasn’t looking.

“see told you, you could do it. so how’d the first move go?” glenn laughed quietly, “you walked in, so i couldn’t pull my first move.” i said as i walked past them, “oh please like you could ever pull a first move.” he scoffed, while i fake-gasp. “challenge accepted.” and with that i walked over to rosita, and pulled her into a long and passionate kiss. “done. don’t tell anyone this.” then walked away.

“wow.” rosita laughed, touching her lips. “she’s really competitive, rosita. good luck.” rosita patted her on the shoulder, as they both walked out of the store.

as we were walking i decided to test out the walkman, and it works, and one of the cassettes were rnb, so pure heaven. but while listening, i notice rosita, ever so slowly walk closer to me, but once she was close enough, i grabbed her hand and held hands with her. this is so my romcom moment.

from the corner of her eyes, i saw her blush, which made me gain confidence to maybe flirt back, maybe. definitely, but i will, one day.

once a rustling sound was made, we were all on alert mode, except for me, i didn’t hear a thing, then rosita screamed at me to duck, but i turned around, almost getting bit by a walker but i decapitated it first, my Sony walkman getting ruined, falling on the ground.

but we still continued on our way back, Rosita tries to hold my hand, but I put my hand in my pocket instead. I can see her face go from a soft and caring face to a cold one.

once we settled down, I didn't bother to do anything else but to just try and fix my walkman, the cassettes were still in tact, just the walkman, after a few tries, I did it, I fixed it. I was a tech junkie when the world was still okay. I owned multiple gameboys and such, scared to let dad find out that my gameboy was broken, learning how to fix one from the guys who sells gameboys.

but as the pure rebel, ew no, pure stupid I am, I decided to sneak off, off to the nearest town, though it was almost night, I wasn't scared at all, with my supplies of literally one water bottle and a broken katana, I felt like I could do anything. "I'm a genie in a bottle. you gotta run me the right way. if you wanna be with me. I can make your wish come true."

"woah." I say, looking at heaven, and that heaven is, a music store, and no not a small one, a big one containing guitars, drums, piano's, and a whole lot more instruments. but then it's almost night, and there's no way I could ever pull off getting a full drum set back to camp, so instead it's just one acoustic guitar and was biggie, but I another secret run, success.

before I could go back to camp, a voice interrupts me, "y/n, tsk tsk. you're still sneaking out? what happens if your glenn finds out huh?" Rosita asks me, walking closer to me, obvious teasing in her voice. "well nothing, since he won't ever find out." I say, brushing her hair our of her face. "right?" I say, seductiveness in my voice.

"my my, y/n rhee where did you learn that?" she asks, softly chuckling, "who else?" I say, gesturing to her, "and movies." I shrug, "I gotta go now. help me." I say, while give the guitar on her, "sorry. you said you'd help."

"I said nothing." Rosita said, "well now you said something." once we reached camp I dropped my bag climbing inside of my tent, sighing of relief once the weight on my back was gone. "god this is so bad for my posture." I sigh, "here, you go, princess." she said, teasingly, climbing inside my tent. "oh shut it, you think a princess would walk through dirt and mud?"

"no, but I think that's what you're acting like right now. bratty and snobby." she said, stepping closer to me. "real mature." i said, stepping closer to her, testing the waters, but maybe i’m the waters, as she stared at me with that lustful gaze. “okay. stop.” i block her eyes with my hands.

“wow, real mature.” she said, quoting me, “don’t quote me.” i say, before taking my hands from her eyes. “you know you can leave now.” i say, feeling tired, “i can. but what if i don’t want to?” she says, her voice seductive, her eyes lustful. my heart, beating. “well, what’s so bad with that? maybe you can stay.” i flirt back, stepping closer.

“wow, flirting back? who taught you that.” she said, holding my cheek in her hand, tracing my jawline with her finger. “ugh stop that.” i groan, pushing her hand away from me. “why?” she chuckled, “you’re cute when you’re annoyed.” she said, causing me to blush.

and that was when the madness started. which led to five weeks, i didn't know that she and abe were together, i mean i did, but she told me they were gonna break up. god first relationship and i'm a mistress at the ripe age of twenty, but she still went back to abe, mom wouldn't be proud of me. and from then on, i hated her with my full on might, and she too hated me.

five years later

everything's good with rosita, we're on good terms, she has a boyfriend now, i don't but hey, who says it isn't fun to be single in a apocalypse.

while we were talking and drinking, i suddenly laughed, it was night, the breeze was a little cold, the only light was the moonlight shining up against her face. "woah don't go crazy on me." she laughed, "no no don't worry. i haven't gone crazy yet." i laughed, memories shining back at me.

"i can't believe it. people say: you won't ever meet your first love again, because that's what makes them your first love. well glenn just said that, but it's not true, look at us right now. hey i may not be your first love, but you are definitely mine. i don't know if it's the alcohol. but you are really my first love, well you were technically all my first." i laughed, to mask my little sadness, but hey, who says a little drinking can't help that.

“y/n.” she said, holding my cheek in her hand, using the triangle technique making me chuckle softly, as she did too, but she slowly leans in, hoping to kiss me. but i pull away before our lips can touch, “i’m sorry, i-i can’t it would hurt to much.” i say, standing up walking towards my house, “y/n!” she called out but i didn’t bother looking ay her, or stopping.

i knew it would hurt to much, she might be my first love, but i was her totga.

the that got away.

A/n, anyways this was actual shit, i’ve written to much to not put this fic to good use. also i’ve recently started watching twd :) IT IS NOT S SMALL SERIES I FORGOT TO REMOVE IT😭😭😭

#rosita espinosa x reader #rosita espinosa #the walking dead one shots

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danddymaro · 1 year

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Life | Daryl Dixon x Reader

Word Count: 566

You both talking about life

more sweet stuff

Life

"That is the most horrible thing I've ever heard," you say with a hint of horror before you break out into a low chuckle, "Daryl Dixon your life has been absolute dog shit," you muse while shaking your head, and he doesn’t fight back.

He simply lifts his drink before muttering a small, “Oh yeah...”

He had no reason to deny it, you already knew it.

His old stories were always touched with a few outlandish details that always had you stunned, no matter how prepared you thought you were.

- Especially the ones with Merle.

"- And I thought I had it bad..." you add softly, slightly grimacing.

You felt like you took too much for granted now.

- All it had to take was an apocalypse.

he looked down at the cup in his hand, the little ripples in it interesting,

"Not enough butlers?" he questioned you, and you laughed hard, doubling over.

"Butlers?" you say with surprise.

"You were a rich girl, right?" he says with a halfcocked grin.

"I don't know what in the world makes you think that," you mutter. "I wish I had been though," you sigh.

Who wouldn’t have wanted to be?

" I wasn't dirt poor, but I sure as fuck wasn't rich," you tell him.

"But you know what?" you then hummed out fondly, remembering.

"My family was good to me," you reveal, "We didn't have as much as everyone else, but what we did have came from their hard work, " you told him. "Of course, I was still young when this all started," you proceeded.

"I was still in college, trying to figure out how I would take care of them..." you drifted off.

“Cramming through tests, working a shitty little job too...” you recall.

"Preparing for a future that was never happening," you said while finishing the last of what you had before throwing yourself back onto the ground to stare up at the sky.

You then laughed, " By now I had planned to get my degree...get married, and have my first kid, you know the typical stuff. " embarrassed, you closed your eyes.

“Livin’ the dream...” you softly whispered.

"And now here I am," you uttered with a touch of disappointment.

It’d all been one big waste.

You’d worked for nothing, and your parents were long gone.

"Well, I planned on being nowhere," he admitted, finishing his drink and doing the same as you had, his arms crossed behind his back.

"- Dead really," he added with a shrug because he’d long accepted it. That was where most people like him ended up anyways.

"And now here I am," he said, " ‘Doesn't always work out the way you plan it," he tells you, and you couldn't agree more.

"My gosh, yes," you said with a long exhale, chuckling as you strain to find a single star.

"It's not all that bad though..." you start.

"no school loans," you peep.

- Before you were sure you were gonna drown in them.

"And well..." you then breathe, looking over to him, " I got to meet you," you say and he immediately snorts in dismissiveness.

"Yeah. that sure makes up for all this bullshit huh?" he asks you jokingly, and you smile,

"Actually, yeah," you say sweetly.

He has no retort back but a little huff and an eyeroll that makes you giggle.

Anytime you say something remotely related he does that, and you’re not sure he really believes you.

- One day he will though.

He had a thick skull, but luckily you were patient.

life's not what you expected, none of it is, but somewhere in between, you'd met Daryl, and somehow, laying there on that little patch of grass beneath the starless night felt perfect.

Somehow, It felt worth it.

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gutsby · 3 months

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Best Served Cold

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

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

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

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

A lot.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ya done pissin’ or what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ah.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Daryl managed a curt nod.

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

“Shit, I’m sorry, Daryl.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I was jus—” Daryl started.

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

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

But overprotective, possessive Shane was no more.

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

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

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

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

You almost choked on your spit.

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Shane was community dick. Made sense.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shane, I don’t wanna—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N!” he bellowed.

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

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

Until Shane’s footsteps fell heavy mere feet away.

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

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

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

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

“Dar— oh!”

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

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

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

“Told him no,” you murmured back.

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

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

“Don’t. Please,” you said.

“Did he—”

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

“Oh.”

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

You felt aroused.

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

You sighed as his hips moved gently against your own.

“You think maybe—” you started.

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

“Just…jerking off to you.”

He never had been any good at a bluff.

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

“Yeah? What about?”

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

“I…well…”

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

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

“Were you thinking of this?” you teased.

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck!” Daryl hissed.

“Daryl!”

“Daryl?”

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

Daryl gritted his teeth as you bounced on his cock,

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Eat shit, Walsh.”

“Just help me out. Please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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frost-queen · 5 months

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Bodyguarded (Reader!Grimes x Daryl Dixon)

Requested by: Anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury, @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn

Summary: Reader is Rick's younger sister. You're very sweet with a sharp tongue which Shane doesn't seem to like. Shane keeps bothering you as he finds you cocky. To your surprise is Daryl always around to keep Shane away from you eventhough he doesn't like you, right? [ read part 2 & part 3 & part 4 & part 5 ]

A basket got dropped beside you. It made you look up from your crouched position. – “Seriously?” – you called out at Shane. – “You couldn’t have dropped this ten minutes ago? We are almost finished.” – you went on. Shane exhaled loud wiping his hand down his mouth. – “Why do you always have to open your big mouth.” – he replied with a soft glare. You slapped the shirt in your hand down in the water as some water splashed up. Getting all worked up by how he threated you.

Shane watched as you got up but before you could do anything had Carol jumped up with you. Moving her hands in front of you to hold you back. One look of her was enough to make you settle down. – “Just do as you are told!” – he ordered finding himself amusing. You clenched your jaw, pushing with your body against Carol’s arms as they kept you in place. Shane scoffed funnily before walking off. Sighing loud lowered Carol her arms from around her.

“Come on Y/n.” – she said softly with a gentle nod. You took another deep breath squatting down again. – “I just don’t understand why he brought this now. He knew he had laundry ten minutes ago, didn’t he.” – you spoke trying to understand why he would taunt you like this. Carol took out a shirt, splashing it into the water. – “Let’s finish this up together.”

Carol and you washed the rest of Shane’s clothing. Obeying to what you have been told. When you were done you went back with Carol to the camp. You went over to Glenn handing him his clothes back. – “Aw sweet Y/n!” – he said bowing to you as a thank you. It made you smile back. You then went over to the campfire where Daryl sat munching on some meat. You gestured in silence to his clothing, moving them up in your hands.

Daryl gave you a brief glance before continue to ignore you. You wanted to place it down as Daryl suddenly pointed at his tent. You nodded back making your way over to his tent to lay it down in the front. You barely got up when you felt two arms wrap tightly around you. It startled you making you squeak loudly. Recognizing the arms around you, you eased up.

“Do that again sweetheart I like the way you sound.” – you heard Carol’s husband comment at you. Daryl spitted on the ground turning his gaze towards him in a tight clench. You turned around glaring at him for even saying such a thing in front of Carl. Carl was still hugging you as you held your hands against his back.

Carol gave you a look of sympathy wishing she could do something against her husband’s behaviour. You turned your attention down to your nephew. You led him away from everyone. – “Stay close with him!” – you heard Shane call out to you. You looked briefly over your shoulder seeing him stand by the car, elbow leaning against the open door. You simply turned back to the front as Shane scoffed. Finding you very cocky and thinking you were full of attitude when you honestly weren’t.

You just never understood why Shane was like this towards you. Carl and you made your way towards the woods a bit drifting away from the others. – “Auntie Y/n.” – Carl said as you hummed loud as a reply. Carl jumped on top of a log balancing his way across. You remained by his side in case he lost his balance. Carl hopped off joining your side. He picked up a stick, swaying it around. – “Do you still think about dad?” – he asked as it made you stop shocked. Then you turned around to him with a sweet smile.

“Everyday little one.” – you answered stroking his cheek. Your motion slowed down feeling a sudden wave of sadness. Thinking back about your brother Rick made you emotional. Carl noticed how glossy your eyes had become. – “Sorry auntie Y/n… I didn’t mean to make you sad.” – he said feeling guilty of ever asking it. You sniffed loud, blinking your tears away. – “Don’t worry about it Carl.” – you told him with a laugh.

You straightened your posture pulling him close to your body for a hug. – “If you ever want to talk about your dad and feel like you have no one to turn to, you come to me.” – you said hugging him tightly. Some twigs snapped as it didn’t make you respond quickly enough. Before you knew it had someone grabbed your elbow, pulling you away from Carl. – “I told you to stay close!” – it was Shane who yelled at you. Holding you roughly by the elbow.

“Do you want to put Carl in danger?” – he continued shaking at your elbow. – “Do you think you can save Carl from any walkers?” – he laughed once mockingly. – “Let her go!” – Carl called out running up to Shane to pound his fists against his chest. – “Go to your mother Carl!” – Shane made clear pushing Carl off him. – “Don’t talk to him like that!” – you answered loudly.

Shane’s face contracted with anger. He grabbed you by your neck, pushing your head down. – “I am so done with your attitude Y/n!” – he responded pulling you with him. – “No! leave her alone!” – Carl shouted at him. – “Go to your mother Carl!” – Shane roared out. Carl turned around taking a run for it while wiping his tears away.

“Shane let me go!” – you screamed trying to get his grip from on your neck. He puffed loud pushing you down onto the ground. Body hitting the ground and rolling a bit over. – “I’ve had it with you Y/n!” – he made clear pacing around. Wiping his chin. Breezing around like a hungry wolf. – “I don’t want you near him anymore. You are a bad influence.” – he spoke rubbing his hand over his head. You scoffed shockingly with an amusing undertone. – “I’m sorry. Boss!” – you snapped at him sarcastically.

Shane puffed his chest up slightly raising his hand till he stopped. Eyes widening at the feeling at the back of his head. – “You raise that hand of yours and I’ll shoot.” – you heard come from behind him. Leaning a bit to the side, you saw Daryl stand behind Shane with his crossbow against the back of his head. Shane lowered his hand again with a grunt.

Daryl moved his crossbow slightly to the side, right over his shoulder. An arrow fired. With a zap it found it’s target. Seconds later the sound of a corpse dropping. You had gasped looking over your shoulder to see the last of a walker drop down. – “Next one will be through your head.” – Daryl whispered to Shane. Shane moved storming off.

Daryl lowered his crossbow stepping over to you. He lowered his hand to you, looking away. Hesitantly you took it allowing him to pull you back up to your feet. – “Tha-“ – you started cut off by Daryl walking off. Taking a few deep breaths, you returned afterwards back to camp. Lori looked at you concerned holding Carl against her side. You simply smiled faintly at her to show her it was all right. You didn’t want her to worry. You took refuge in your tent needing time alone.

At nightfall some were sitting around the campfire. You sat near Glenn laughing silently at some funny things he said. You stopped laughing seeing Shane seemingly make his way over to you. He neared and before he could take another step had Daryl gotten up from his seat near you. His gaze stern, posture grand. Carol watched Daryl pressing her lips amusingly together.

Shane puffed with a shake of his head, turning back around. You were looking at Daryl, questionable when your eyes locked as he looked back at you. The contact was brief as Daryl seated himself back down as if nothing had occurred. Shyly smiling at yourself you couldn’t help but feel special that Daryl seemingly did seem to care for you. Otherwise he wouldn’t step in and just let Shane do whatever he likes around you.

Daryl noticed you were staring all smiley at him, making him shift his posture more away from you. You smiled looking down making briefly eye contact with Carol across the fire. Instantly you snorted knowing she was probably thinking the same. Glenn went on to talk to you as if nothing had happened.

After a few days you started to notice Daryl was more around you. Always near to keep a close eye on Shane. Whenever he even made the slightest movement towards you, he made one little movement to let Shane know if he even tried he’d be face to face with him. One day you decided to tease him about it. You were in the woods with Carol, Lori and Carl further down as you made your way over to Daryl who was keeping a watchful eye on you all.

Daryl looked uncomfortable away when you neared. – “Daryl.” – you said to greet him. – “Y/n.” – he mumbled back, looking around as if searching for walkers. You weren’t getting much out of him further so you decided to prank him. Suddenly you gasped loud as if startled. It made Daryl turn his head concerned to you. – “Is that Shane?” – you called out making Daryl turn his head again to look in the direction you were looking.

He immediately took a defensive pose before you, almost grabbing for his crossbow. When he noticed he was looking at nothing, he sighed loud. – “Damn it Y/n!” – he grunted out. – “Do you think this is funny?” – he asked looking your way. – “I do when you get so protective over me.” – you responded with a smile. Daryl rolled with his eyes. – “Like hell I care.” – he outed sounding annoyed.

You kept looking all smiley at him making it almost impossible for him to keep himself from looking back at you. – “I think you do care. Otherwise you wouldn’t keep Shane away from me.” – you told him. Daryl puffed loud. – “Maybe I just don’t like him.” – he responded with half a shrug. – “Or you just very much like me?” – you teased grabbing him by his shirt.

Daryl swallowed nervously when your noses almost touched. Daryl’s expression softened around you. His breathing tickling your lips. His expression made you blink surprised seeing the lovey dovey’s in his eyes. He moved his hand to your cheek letting it brush against it. Before he knew it he closed the gap between your lips, kissing you hard. You hummed loud, pulling away. - "So not caring are you?" - you chuckled out. - "Shut up." - Daryl answered before shutting you up with another kiss.

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riickgrimes · 1 month

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What did they take from you? Carl. They took Carl. I lost him again. When I got taken, I fought and I fought. Not just by trying to get away, but by how I would dream. I'd meet up with Carl in my dreams. And that's how I survived in here. Kept me alive. Then one day, he was just gone. He just left.

...

If Carl were here right now, what would he say? What would he want you to do with this new chance to be with those you love?

#the walking dead #the ones who live #twd: the ones who live #twdedit #towledit #towl spoilers #rick grimes #michonne grimes #carl grimes #mine and only mine #I CANNTTTT #THOSE SHOTS OF CARL RIPPED MY HEART OUT #OH YM GOD #THE FACT THAT RICK REALLY DID START TO FORGET CARL #THE FACT THAT MICHONNE REMINDING HIM OF CARL BROUGHT HIM BACK #once again it was carl who brought him back from the brink #RICK AND CARL WILL NEVER NOT MAKE ME SOB MY EYES OUT

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nerd4music · 2 months

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THE WALKING DEAD: THE ONES WHO LIVE | S1E2: Gone

#twdedit #towledit #tvedit #richonneedit #the walking dead #the ones who live #twd: the ones who live #richonne #michonne grimes #rick grimes #**#*gifs #**tv #towl spoilers #this is so hilarious #happy!michonne showing off her man to her bestie #rick in full panic mode #brain scrambling to get them outta this #without getting shot

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graceloveswolves · 2 years

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The Storm

Daryl Dixon x female reader : Season 9 Episode 16; just a sweet moment between Daryl & Y/N

🚨 spoilers!! You’ve been warned! 🚨

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I looked out across the frozen grass, feeling the cold wind blow across my face from the angle my head was tilted. My cheeks were undoubtedly glossed with a rosy tint from the harsh winter breeze. On edge, I kept looking around at the scenery around me, starting to grow bored of the endless walking. The group was certainly at its lowest point, having to abandon the Kingdom was heart wrenching and tore a big hole in our pride.

But at least we still had each other. Of course some were still mad and separated themselves with rage from the incident with the Whispers and what happened to some of our best people, but nonetheless we were all still walking together. I looked up in front of me, Carol and Ezekiel were trudging along on their horses mournfully. Throughout this entire time there still hasn’t been a word spoken between the pair. I couldn’t imagine what it must be like for them, to loose a child and their kingdom… must’ve been an unimaginable pain that I couldn’t even begin to fantom.

Then I looked up at girl who unintentionally started it all, Lydia. She was walking solemnly by herself, her bubble coat making it harder for her to move, but she did. I felt myself frown, she didn’t deserve all the blame and hate she gotten. It wasn’t any of her fault, she was just a girl who was being abused. No doubt conflicted and troubled with her feelings and thoughts, to leave your mom and join a bunch of people that hate you for the greater good has to be a very hard but mature decision to make.

“Henry wanted her here…when no one else did.”

I heard Daryl speak softly, making me flinch on the inside. I had forgotten for a moment that he had been walking by my side. I looked up at him, feeling the rush of cold air reach my warm neck that had been exposed from my head tilt. He had looked down at me, while holding his strap to his crossbow, he studied me quietly, waiting for me to respond. It made me wonder how long he had been staring at me, he always was the quiet one who observed from afar. He had been walking by my side since we first left the kingdom, never leaving my side. We did make some sort of small talk along the way, but sometimes he’s so quiet you forget he is there, a talent he has mastered.

I glance up once again at the “her” he was referring too. Lydia, the beautiful raven haired girl who was walking far enough ahead of us that she was out of ear shot. Then I glanced back up at Carol and Ezekiel, who haven’t taken a single look at her since we left the kingdom.

“I never minded her here, she’s just a little girl.”

I replied back, looking up at Daryl, he had been looking at her too, before his eyes came back over to me. Looking down at his hands which still occupied his strap, I took one of my own and grasped his clothed arm, regaining warmth and feeling into my frosty fingers.

“She’s a good kid.” He replied, taking one hand off his crossbow and slipping in into mine.

I nodded back to him, agreeing. He was right, she was a good kid, even after all she has been through and the abuse from her… mother. She still had a pure heart.

“She is, Henry would’ve been proud of her. Every time I look at her I see a little bit of him.”

There was a moment of silence between us, the blue eyed man beside me looked conflicted for a moment. He raised his head looking out in front of him, still clutching onto his crossbow and my hand before he spoke.

“Who do you see when you look at me?”

Glancing up at him, I recalled the first time I met the stubborn redneck. All the way back at the quarry when the world first fell. Believe it or not, but I always knew I loved him from when I first met him. Even when no one else considered him to be anyone special or worth saving, I saw behind his tough act and he eventually let me in after a long time of pestering him.

We had fought through hell together, from Hershel’s farm, to the Prison, to Terminus, to Alexandria, to the Hilltop, from the Saviors, and all the less lonely nights in between. Through thick and thin we stuck together, even when we didn’t see eye to eye we still had each other’s back and fought for what the other believed in.

It didn’t matter where I was, as long as I was with him I was home.

I looked back up at him, seeing him patiently wait for my response. I knew no matter what that I loved him and he loved me and that was just how it was always going to be.

“I see you, my home.”

#daryl dixon imagines #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon x reader fluff #daryl x reader #Daryl Dixon x reader #twd daryl #Daryl Dixon #TWD Daryl Dixon #twd imagines #twd preferences #twd #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead one shots #the walking dead imagines #daryl dixon oneshot #carol petelier #lydia twd #henry twd

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twdbegins · 4 months

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Floral Sheets

⋆˙⟡⋆˙⟡

Daryl Dixon x Fem! Reader Tags: Fluff. Word Count: 2.1k "Not ready for tomorrow yet."

⋆˙⟡⋆˙⟡⋆

The sun had set over Alexandria long ago.

The hues of orange and purple had faded with the falling sun and transformed the sky into a canvas of inky black, speckled with twinkling stars -- a perfect end to an otherwise arduous day.

Alexandria was thriving, and everyone in it was better than they had been in years...possibly since the apocalypse had begun.

Once a quiet suburban neighborhood, it had become a safe haven for Rick and his fellow survivors in a world full of the living dead. Alexandria was more than another camp...it was a symbol of human resilience and a testament to their will to survive.

There was a consistent supply of food, shelter, water, and (most importantly) safety. It was the safest and the healthiest that Rick and his group had been in a long time.

Alexandria had blossomed into a perfect sanctuary, and everyone was grateful for it. But such a thriving community required intense and constant work to keep it to that standard. Keeping track of weapons, supplies, and all the basic resources was vitally important. When certain supplies were to the point of restocking, Daryl was almost always the errand boy.

He could handle himself better than anyone in Alexandria. He worked well alone, and he could get himself out of a dangerous situation if he found himself in a pinch.

Daryl knew that he had a long day ahead of him from the moment his feet hit the floor early that morning. He had several stops to make on his journey outside of the walls of Alexandria, and a few of those stops were quite out of the way.

Not to mention, the blazing heat of summer was nearly blistering during the day, and even during the night hours, it wasn't much cooler. It was so humid that sometimes it made the air so thick that it felt like breathing soup.

Daryl was used to the heat, and while it didn't bother him all that much -- it still made a long, tiring day even longer and more exhausting.

And the moment that he stepped through the door late that night, he felt a sense of relief crash over him. It was significantly cooler inside your house, and he was so glad to be out of the heat and at home.

He had three things on his mind when he entered your home: food, a shower, and you.

If he could have it his way, he would've liked those things in reverse order -- but he couldn't bring himself to wake you just for a shower you didn't need, and he doubted you wanted to be disturbed just to sit with him while he horked down whatever he could scrounge up for dinner. And he knew you definitely wouldn't want him crawling into bed without eating or showering.

His boots thudded softly against the wooden floor, his steps heavy and not as quiet as he wanted them to be. He knew that you would be long asleep by now, and he wanted to do his best to keep you sleeping peacefully.

He made a beeline for the kitchen, his stomach grumbling and growling with the simple request to be fed. He smacked himself for not snatching a can of something for himself when he was unloading the goodies he had picked up that day, but when he opened the refrigerator -- he realized that he didn't need it.

Right there, sitting perfectly wrapped on the center of the top shelf, was a plate of that night's leftovers that he knew you had saved just for him.

He didn't even need to see what the leftovers were to know that he was about to scarf down every last morsel on that plate. He didn't even bother heating it up because eating it cold didn't make a difference to him in the slightest.

He rinsed his plate (a habit that he only came to have after living with you full time) and left it in the sink to be washed in the morning before moving on to his next step.

He opted to use the shower on the opposite side of the house, knowing that using the one connected to the bedroom would surely end up with you waking up to the sound of him clambering around.

He was caked in dirt, sweat, and who knows what else. He felt five pounds heavier just with whatever was sitting on his skin and clothes. Daryl didn't mind getting dirty and staying dirty, but tonight it was actually bothering him a bit.

Needless to say, a shower was needed.

It was well appreciated nonetheless, and the stream of water felt incredible on his tired muscles that were in need of rest. He took his time though, maneuvering around the tiny guest bathroom shower and scrubbing his body until his natural skin tone wasn't obstructed by muck and grime.

He lathered soap on his face, ears, and neck thoroughly, watching the evidence of the long day wash along the shower floor and down the drain to never be seen again. He rubbed his eyes, feeling his eyelids grow heavier by the minute.

The fatigue was setting in fast. Between his fed belly and the relaxation of home, several hours of sleep were calling his name...and no matter what anybody said, Daryl had made the decision to sleep in the next morning.

After all, he knew you were awaiting him just across the small house, and he would never pass up an opportunity to wake up with you.

Once he felt fresh and clean, he turned off the water and stepped out. He dried himself, wrapping the towel around his waist to make the short journey to the bedroom. He gathered his dirty (an understatement) clothes so they could be washed later, knowing to toss them in the hamper (also a habit he developed post-living with you) by the closet.

His feet made it to the closed bedroom door, and he was slow to open it. As he knew you would be, you were curled up in bed

He stopped in the doorway for just a moment to observe you. Your eyes closed softly and your breathing steady brought a flutter to his heart. It let him know you were comfortable and safe...you felt safe.

You were the balm to his weary soul, your presence a comfort he had come to rely on. He didn't watch you for long, knowing that he would much rather be with you up close than from afar.

He approached his side of the bed, carefully adjusting his pillow and peeling back the covers...to reveal quite the surprise.

Ordinarily, Daryl wasn't sure if he would've even noticed. However, this was such a difference that he wasn't sure if he couldn't have not noticed.

New sheets. He thought to himself, the corners of his lips turning up slightly.

In terms of quality, this bedding was a major upgrade. Your last set of sheets were very plain and, despite the fact that they kept you warm, were just plain overused.

But in terms of looks? Daryl wasn't so sure that this new bedding was an improvement.

You had mentioned to him a time or two that you wanted to change up your bedroom. Alexandria was proving to be your permanent home for the foreseeable future, so making your house the way you wanted seemed logical. Over time, Daryl had managed to find random furniture pieces out in the world outside the walls. Lamps, chairs, and whatnot.

Sheets, on the other hand, were much harder to come across. Frankly, Daryl hadn't ever found a set of sheets that were suitable for sleeping on...no matter how many times you washed them.

Daryl studied the sheets. They were light pink, decorated with a simple printed pattern of roses. It wasn't the tacky grandma type of floral/rose design -- this pattern was much more simplistic...dainty even.

Daryl didn't exactly love the sheets. But a bed was a bed, and as long as you were in it, he didn't rightly care.

Least the comforter is the same. He thought to himself.

He climbed into bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. He tried to keep his movements slow and gentle, but Daryl wasn't exactly known for being graceful.

He winced when you began to stir with a whimper, a brief look of panic in your eyes when they opened.

“Hey, hey…” He rested his hands on your shoulders. “It’s just me.”

You stared at him through squinted eyes for only a moment before sighing out a breath of relief and falling back into your pillow. You wasted no time moving closer to him, snuggling up to him with a content, soft smile.

"Hi." You whispered.

"Hey, pretty girl. Sorry I'm so late gettin' in."

You shook your head, not even giving it a second thought.

"It's okay. How was today?" You asked groggily.

He wrapped his arms around you, pressing his lips to your forehead. He felt the stress and pressure of the day melt away in the feeling of you.

"Can't complain. Got what we needed," He said. "I'm sorry I woke you."

"It's okay," You shrugged. "I'm happy you're here."

Your face was nuzzled into his neck, the smell of bar soap from his recent shower filling your senses. Daryl danced his fingertips along your back, noting that you were much warmer than he was from being in the bed for longer.

Speaking of, he knew it wouldn't be long before you wanted to discuss your new addition to the room.

“I got new sheets.” You mumbled, but even in your state of half sleep, he could tell you were excited about it.

“Mmhm.” He hummed. "I noticed."

The sound of his indifference caused you to pull your head back to look at him.

“You don’t like them?” You asked.

“A bit girly for me. Glad you like ‘em though,” He said. "Where'd you get 'em?"

"Michonne actually. She and Rick were out today and found a place stocked with that sort of stuff," You explained. "It must've been a Bed Bath and Beyond or something."

"A what?" He snorted.

"Bed Bath and Beyond. It was a furniture/home decor retail store back in the day," You explained. "That was a joke, but it had to have been some kind of home decor store. I don't know how else they could've found bedding this nice and new."

Daryl gave a small chuckle, amused by your high enthusiasm for just a set of new sheets. But he understood that they were much more than just sheets to you. They comforted you, and they gave you something to be excited about.

"What do you have to do tomorrow?" You asked, and Daryl couldn't help but groan.

He didn't want to think about tomorrow yet. He had literally just finished today. He knew that, even with a late start, he would have a day just like today: busy, hot, and exhausting.

For now, he wanted to enjoy the end of today...or what was left of it at least. He wanted to hold you close, get some sleep, and be thankful for another day survived.

And hope for many more to come.

"Same ol' things," He sighed. "Not ready for tomorrow yet."

You understood what he meant and ditched the topic. He smirked when you kissed him, which was your way of changing the subject and when you had run out of things to say.

Not that Daryl minded.

He held your face in his hand, keeping you close and preventing you from straying far from him. He felt himself melt into you, the best feeling in the world after a day like this. He wished he could have this every night.

His kisses were lazy and slow, which was a bit out of the norm for him. You could tell he was fighting sleep, and you didn't blame him in the slightest for being tired.

"How about we get some sleep? I know you're exhausted." You brushed a strand of hair from his eyes, noting how heavy they looked.

Normally, he would've fought for a few more minutes...but tonight, sleep sounded all too good.

"Yeah." He agreed.

"Talk more in the morning?" You asked, and he gave a grin.

"'Course, baby." He pressed his lips to the crown of your head.

Daryl shifted further under the covers, making sure that you were snuggled in and warm. Daryl kept you close for the rest of the night, sharing kisses when he could and keeping you in his dreams.

All wrapped up in those pink, floral sheets.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x fem! reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon one-shot #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #twdbegins

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danddymaro · 1 year

Text

clouds | Daryl Dixon x Reader

the reader likes to look at the clouds

he misses her

Clouds

His eyes burned, and it wasn't the sweaty mess that dipped down his brows and made his hair cling fiercely dedicatedly to his face.

It wasn't the dreadful sun that beamed down so mercilessly that his skin itched, but instead it was the product of a sight he witnessed.

He'd seen you for just a moment, a quick flash that he nearly missed by a simple blink.

- And just like that, you were gone.

You were gone, out there, but he'd find you no matter what it took. He'd find you again, just like he had that first time when you first met.

his hand moved, open palm facing down as he used it as a shield to cover his eyes from the brightness, and for the moment his eyes drifted up he felt something different.

Suddenly, the daylight sky had him smiling for just a moment, for a single second as he remembered how many times you'd stopped him to point out a cloud.

- a cloud in this world you live in.

At first, he didn't find it interesting. He hadn't cared much until he'd brought his eyes back down to you and realized how much your face brightened.

How pretty your eyes looked.

- How precious your little smile was.

After that he'd find himself looking up, hoping to find one you'd like.

He’d point them out, and for a reason he hadn’t understood before, you smiled even harder when he joined in.

He tried his best to find those you’d like,

Like that little rabbit he'd seen up there, the one that had made you stop and stare in wonder.

Or that blob that looked a little bit like a heart if you squinted hard enough.

Is there a chance you can see the same sky?

That you see the same specks he does now?

He wonders, and he hopes, because it means your close, it means that soon, he'll find you,

and he'll tell you about how much it means to him to be right by you, doing nothing but staring at what’s above, forgetting about the rest of the world.

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laangdonn · 4 months

Text

not anymore

summary: the aftermath of glenn and abraham leaves carl and y/n’s relationship in shambles.

pairing: carl grimes x female reader

a/n: first carl grimes post yayy, i love him so much and in my mind he lives on.

*read part 2 here*

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

the house was quiet minus the occasional sniffle from carl and i. he was sat with his head in his hands on the leather sofa, his fingers lightly gripping his brown curls. i watched him carefully through blurry vision from behind the kitchen counter, supporting myself with my hands on the cold marble.

it was dark, the moon and a single saucer light in the kitchen shining as light.

it was so fucking quiet but my head had never been louder.

“so what are you saying?” i whispered, carefully watching my words.

he lifted his eyes for a moment until he brought his head back into his palms. he refused eye contact. “i don’t know what i’m saying.”

“you don’t love me anymore?” every word i spoke sent my stomach falling into my feet.

he didn’t answer. i didn’t know if that made it better or worse.

“jesus, carl, answer me-“

“i still love you,” he finally responded, his hand rubbing his face in stress. “of course i still love you.”

“then what’s wrong?” i pressed, a sudden urgency filling my veins. “why are we even having this conversation? why did you come home and suddenly act as if we’ve been fighting for weeks-“

“cause we have been, y/n!” his voice picked up now, throwing his hands in the air and standing up. he still hadn’t looked at me. “we have been fighting for weeks! we cant even look at each other without fighting! ever since glenn-“

“stop.” i cut him off, feeling my chest clench. “this wasn’t them, it wasn’t.”

but it was, and i knew it. the aftermath of glenn and abraham put a strain on the whole group, especially me and carl. we came home that morning, stumbling out of the RV and hadn’t been the same since. every time i looked at carl, all i saw were the tears streaming down his face and the reflection of glenn’s bloody skull in his eyes. i saw the black line drawn on carl’s left arm, and the axe raised in the air.

i looked at carl and i saw death.

i knew he felt the same.

“that day…” he started, taking a breath. “that day i had no other wish but to die. to keep you safe if that’s what it took. i couldn’t protect you from him and i don’t know if i can even try. i put you in danger by loving you.”

i shuddered a breath as the tears began to

clog my throat.

“that’s why i can’t love you, y/n. not anymore.”

“you act like that’s a choice you can make.” i choked out, a feeling of anger pushing forward. anger at the way he thought he could fool anyone who knew him.

“i can try.”

“BULLSHIT!” i snapped, slamming my hand against the cold counter and feeling it sting.

he buried his face in his hands and i could see his shoulders shaking. i felt my heart break then, knowing i wouldn’t be able to change his mind.

a sob broke its way through my throat, wet and rough, and i instantly regretted it because carl looked straight at my eyes and i felt myself sink deeper into the ground.

“don’t do this, carl…” i whispered, looking into his crystal blue eyes, a raging ocean encased in this beautiful human who i’d have to let go. i shook my head at him slowly.

“i’m going to get you killed,”

“then let me be killed knowing you loved me! isn’t that the best we can do?!”

“the best i can do is keep you alive.” he countered strongly. his voice was no longer broken or shaken, but determined.

i realized in that moment nothing could be done to change his mind, it had already been made up. carl was stubborn, too stubborn for his own good and he’d never be swayed by anyone, even me.

no words were spoken between us as we stared at the floor, drowning in the absence of each other. all i wanted in that moment was to touch him, to feel him under my skin and prove to me that he’s still real and he’s still here after everything that had happened. but he was taking that away from me and ripping my heart out along with it.

he inhaled a sharp breath, rubbing his hand on his face once more before he said, “it’d be best if you went to carol’s tonight.”

i swallowed harshly, nodding. at least he was right about one thing.

too tired to argue further, i walked past him and to the front door. he kept his head bowed, not looking at me. i could sense the tension as i barely grazed his shoulder, walking so fast i barely registered the soft material of his flannel on my skin. i paused in front of the door, gripping the handle and hoping he’d call out my name and beg me to stay.

but he didn’t. and i turned around to see his eyes were still trained on the floor, back turned. i felt the cold air envelop me and i slammed the door shut, reverberating and practically shaking the house. i sucked in a breath and pushed forward to the blue house a few doors down.

i knocked wearily, feeling my knees begin to wobble as the effects of what had just transpired hit me. suddenly i was a mess on the porch, breathing erratically as i tried to process what just happened. but, when i saw carols face when she opened the door, concerned at my state of being, i lost it.

she carried me into the house and let me sob my way through the story. she held me while i cried and laid me down once i had fallen asleep in her grasp, eyes crusted shut with tried tears, cheeks red, and lips swollen.

i dreamt that night of glenn.

———

in the morning i woke to the smell of toast and eggs. my stomach growled harshly and i realized i hadn’t eaten since yesterday afternoon.

i gripped the banister on my way downstairs, being created with carol’s sympathetic smile. i sat down on the island counter as she pushed a plate of breakfast in front of me.

“i’m leaving for hilltop today.” i announced suddenly. her back was turned to me but i could sense the blank stare that must’ve washed over her. the sizzle of the pan of eggs on the stove top was the only sound heard for a moment.

then, she continued tussling the eggs in the pan, continuing on as if i hadn’t said anything. “it’s dangerous.”

“maggie needs me.” i answered simply.

“she’d feel much better if you stayed here. safe, with rick.”

i took a small bite of my toast, “she knows i can take care of myself. i should’ve gone with her and sasha right after…” i let my voice drift on, knowing i didn’t have to be specific. “i need to do this for her. for me. i cant stay here, carol, i can’t. not anymore.”

carol turned around at that, pouring her own eggs onto a plate. “well, i’m not going to stop you.” she said, taking a bite, “but i don’t think you should go alone.”

“i don’t need a babysitter,” i mumbled, beginning to lose my appetite. “im going by myself and that’s final.”

———

i opened the front door to the grimes’ home we shared cautiously. i anticipated to see carl in the front room with judith, as he always was, but to my surprise it was rick instead.

he was sat on the couch while judith babbled and played on the floor. his eyes were tired and lost, his face sunken with grief. he turned to look at me walking in and gave me the same, sympathetic smile i had gotten from carol.

i stood awkwardly in front of the door, looking anywhere but his eyes.

“he told you didn’t he.” i mumbled, not even being able to bring myself to say his name.

“no,” his voice was rough as he spoke, “i heard him last night crying in his room, after you’d left. and i knew.”

i felt my heart clench and my nose begin to sting. i nodded slowly, knowing i wouldn’t be able to choke out words i so desperately wanted to say.

“im going to hilltop today. only carol knows. i came to grab my stuff.”

his eyebrows furrowed at me and once i saw the disapproving look i spoke fast.

“i can make it there.” i promised, “we need each other.”

rick knew exactly who i was referring to and suddenly the look of disapproval vanished from his face. he nodded at me slowly, accepting the fact that this battle would be one he lost in trying to keep me here. he turned to judith and i took that as my cue to head upstairs.

“carl is at the armory, but he should be back soon,” i heard rick say, “i suggest you leave before he gets back, for both of your sakes.”

i didn’t answer, only continued up the steps. i didn’t want to see carl because i knew if he begged me to stay i would. it hurts knowing i perhaps don’t have that same control over him.

pushing open his door and revealing his room, our room was harder than i had imagined. i wanted to be out quickly, without hassle. i went through drawers, grabbing my things, stuffing them into the two duffel bags i had underneath our bed.

my heart dropped when i heard the front door open and close. i hadn’t been quick enough.

“where is she?” i heard his voice from downstairs and it motivated me to work quicker.

i managed to close the zipper on the second duffle bag but when i turned to the door i almost fainted. carl stood there with his arms hanging limp at his side, a blank stare on his face as he watched me pack my life away.

we stood facing each other for a long time. i stressed another fight, perhaps a bigger blowout than the last, but i looked into his sad, tired eyes and realized there wouldn’t be any fighting between us.

“how did you know i was here,” i mumbled.

“i went to carol’s looking for you. she told me you were leaving for hilltop.” his face scrunched up in disgust at his own words, as if just the thought of me leaving left a sour taste in his mouth.

“i am.” i said, voice feeble in an attempt to remain confident.

he shook his head slowly as tears began to rise up in his eyes. “don’t, y/n.”

“why not?” i pushed, crossing my arms over my chest. “why wouldn’t i leave? what’s left for me here?”

he didn’t answer.

“you let me go last night.” i stabilized my voice a bit, straightening my back to make myself look stronger as i spoke the words. “you can let me go again.”

“is that what this is?” he questioned, “is this reckless stupidity to punish me for last night?”

i scoffed, rolling his eyes at his narcissism. “no,” i chuckled in disbelief.

“then why? because this is the first time i’ve heard about this from you. not once have you said you’ve wanted to go to hilltop.”

“why wouldn’t i go?” i asked rhetorically, “maggie’s there and i want to help her. i feel so… so useless here! like, nothing is going right in this godforsaken place and last night was the last thing i needed to set me off.”

his face suddenly paled, his eyes softening. words were stuck on the edge of his tongue and i could see in his expression he contemplated letting them spill over. “i wanted to talk about last night.”

i turned around at that, beginning to rustle with my bag to occupy my hands. to do something other than hear him talk. especially about last night.

“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to hurt you, you have no idea how hard it was for me, letting you go like that.”

i scoffed again, “you don’t even have a clue how i feel, carl, so don’t even try to sympathize with me.”

“i-“

“save it.” i spat, anger beginning to rise up my veins at the idea that he was about to pity me. “nothing you can say, nothing you think you can do to make it okay won’t keep me from-“

a loud bang on the front door shook me from finishing my sentence, both our eyes widening as carl ran out of the room and to the stairs.

“anyone home?” a booming voice spoke. i knew that voice.

carl, eyes still wide, turned to me in shock. i stood frozen, my hand still clutching the strap of my duffel bag filled with things.

“aww, you are a cutie-pie aren’t you! where’s your mommy, huh?”

at that, my blood ran cold.

judith was downstairs, by herself, with him.

without another moment of hesitation, carl was booking it down the stairs. i closely followed; forgetting our fued and any other reason why i would be angry in the first place. judith came first.

when i got to the bottom of the stairs carl was already in a staring match with negan as he held judith in his burly arms. the sight almost made me vomit. if he was capable of all he did that night, what was stopping him from harming a baby?

“well would you look what we have here,” he smiled his wicked smile. “i remember you,” he said, pointing at me.

“give me the baby,” carl demanded, his eye narrow. i wouldn’t have wanted to be on the receiving end of his glare.

negan chuckled, “and why would i do that? she’s so precious, i don’t think i’ll ever let her go.”

i felt my eyes sting when he lifted her up higher, examining her small, angelic face with devil eyes.

“i’m not asking,” carl said confidently, his voice didn’t shake or tremble. surprisingly, he was calmer than me, and it was his sister. he kept his eyes trained on negan, never once allowing him to leave his hard gaze. “give her to me.”

negan looked between the two of us before letting out a large gasp, his eyes widening, “no fucking shit, pardon my french but, aren’t you two a little young…”

my cheeks flushed once i realized what he was implying. i slowly shook my head, staring at carl out of the corner of my eye. his eye narrowed further.

“that’s my sister.” he spat.

“this is rick’s baby girl?” negan bounced judith in his arms again, eliciting a small giggle from her. “wow! now it’s a grimes’ party!”

he eyed me up and down, “sweetheart,” he beckoned me to take the baby, and without question i stepped up, carefully taking her out of his grasp and into the safety of my arms. i let out a sigh of relief, smoothing her golden hair back.

i backed up to carl’s side again, keeping my arms strongly around judith’s small body. she twirled a strand of my brown hair around her stubby finger, giggling again.

ever so slightly, carl stepped in front of me, shielding judith and i from whatever this man could do.

“so, where’s rick?” negan asked as he began trodding around the room, picking up trinkets left in the house by the previous owners.

“not here,” carl answered stiffly. out of the corner of my eye, i saw his hand lightly graze over the top of his jeans. my heart pounded a little faster.

negan sighed disappointedly, “well, im gonna go look for him! in the meantime, a few of my men will be by here to collect half your shit for me to take! kapeesh?”

he walked over to me and patted judith’s back, getting sickenly close. i held my breath, attempting to shield my fear. “i’ll be back for you, sweetheart.”

a chill ran down my spine when judith giggled at the man’s words. it felt like i was holding that breath in all the way until the front door closed and i could breathe again.

suddenly, carl gripped my shoulders and forced me to face him. “take judith upstairs and stay there.”

boots crunching against gravel outside made my stomach drop, the sound getting closer as each second passed. i shook my head violently. “i’m not leaving you down here by yourself.”

“i’ll be fine, go upstairs. now!” he pushed me in the direction of the stairs, judith cooing. i suddenly felt the urge to tell him i loved him, to hold him and make sure he’s safe. i never wanted to leave his side.

i had barely made it up the stairs and out of sight by the time the men had opened the door and i heard carl already start with the spiteful comments. he’s gonna get himself killed.

i placed judith in her crib, cooing to her softly to make sure she was settled. i locked her door from the inside, stuffing the key in my back jean pocket and headed for the stairs. i peeked through the railings, watching carl argue with one of negan’s men while the other ransacked the kitchen.

“you said half!” carl growled, watching the men stuff cabinet after cabinet of food into a large bag.

“we’ll take as much as we want.” one of the men replied, his tone snark and condescending.

my eyes bulged when i saw carl turn around and raise his gun to the man in the kitchen. he cocked it, his finger edging the trigger. “put it back.”

at this, i ran downstairs to carl’s side, just in time for the man behind him to cock his gun, right at my head.

carl’s head turned, his face pale when he saw the cold metal pressed up against my head, and the man’s strong arm around my torso.

“put the gun down, kid.” the man with the gun to me demanded. carl didn’t budge.

“carl…” i whispered carefully, my heart thumping in my ears loud enough to the point where i could barely hear myself talk aloud. “put it down…”

he stood there for a moment, his hand holding the gun beginning to shake as his pupil turned into a devilish slit to the man threatening my life. after what felt like hours, he finally lowered the gun, and i let out a sigh of relief when the metal left my hair.

we watched in distraught as they picked apart every inch of our home. luckily, we were able to keep him from going upstairs, and they left without another word to either of us. as the front door slammed shut i was pulled harshly into carl’s arms, his whole body shaking in rage.

his grip was tight and constricting, as if the anger was flowing into the hug. i could barely get a breath out, and i felt him shakily let out a few of his own into my ear, his chin digging into the crevice between my neck and my shoulder.

i could feel his rage. it coursed through him like the blood in his veins. his brain pumped more thoughts of negan, his saviors, their wrath, and i felt him slip into his emotions.

“i love you,” he whispered, his voice harsh, embrace still solid.

a tear dropped onto the warm skin of my shoulder, and by then i knew, everything he had said to me last night was nothing but a mistake.

i nodded against him, “i know.”

———

the rest of the day he didn’t let go of me, refused to. we laid in bed and i realized he was still thinking of this mornings’ events.

rick had come back an hour after the saviors left and panicked, asking about judith and if we were okay. he saw carl practically in tears from anger on the couch and me coddling his fragile ego.

he told us to stay in the house the rest of the day, and he’d be back to salvage whatever food he could find for dinner after our kitchen became nothing but a hollow, empty shell.

laying on carl’s chest, i drew patterns onto the grey of his shirt. we laid in silence, comfortable yet uncomfortable silence, until he broke it.

“today,” he started, his voice low, “when he had his gun up to your head, i realized something.”

i lifted my head slightly to look at him, his eye trained on the wall in front of us.

“you were about to die without me saying i love you today.” he sucked in a sharp breath, “and- and i realized i couldn’t live with myself if that happened.”

he finally looked down to me, his eye glazed over, staring at my with a heartbreakingly beautiful gaze that told me everything i needed to know.

“carl-“

“if you still want to go to hilltop i wont stop you.” he continued, cutting me off, “but if they come there-“ his voice hitched, his chest tightening under me. “remember that even after what i said, i cant ever stop loving you, y/n.”

the tears that had been building in my eyes finally spilled over. i realized the extent of what we were all going through, what our reality is. that we don’t know if today is promised, more so than before we met the saviors. that humans are far more dangerous than any walker we’d ever come across.

we were all living on borrowed time, and at some point, we’d have to return it.

i buried my head in his warm chest and sobbed. sobbed for glenn, for abraham, for maggie, for judith, for me, for carl, for us together. i sobbed for what we’d never have again as far as it seemed.

safety.

“what are we gonna do,” the words tumbled out of my mouth deliriously, through snot and sobs.

he didn’t answer, but carl’s grip around me tightening, and the way his chest stuttered, answered for him when his throat had nothing to offer.

but then he spoke. low and menacing. he acquired a sort of vendetta he didn’t have the night prior. he wasn’t about to let me go for them. not anymore.

“we’re gonna make them pay.”

#carl grimes #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes angst #the walking dead #twd #rick grimes #carol peletier #negan smith #twd negan #twd carl #twd season 7 #angst with a happy ending #carl grimes fluff #carl grimes one shot #carl grimes imagine

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raz-writes-the-thing · 7 months

Text

Acquired Tastes

Negan x GN!Reader

18+ ONLY / Requests are OPEN

Summary: Negan likes to see just what it takes to wake you up sometimes.

CW: Somno, light cnc, Daddy kink. No pronouns are used for the reader, but they do have afab anatomy.

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

Negan knows, technically- that this is wrong. Technically, he shouldn’t want to put his fingers inside you while you’re sleeping and unaware. Technically, he shouldn’t want to push his thick cock inside you and see how long he can hold out and keep you asleep before you wake up and cum all over him.

God, he shouldn’t want it. And yet, here he is, standing over your peaceful form, groping at his very hard cock and inching the blankets off you. He almost chuckles at the way you instinctively curl up a little tighter to combat the cold.

He trails one finger down over your hip and over the line of your panties. You sigh in your sleep, snuggling closer into the pillow. He grins wolfishly and trails that finger underneath the edge of your panties to play at your folds.

“Oh, darling-” he whispers to himself. “Are you having naughty dreams about me?”

His finger slides up and down through your crease, collecting wetness as he goes. You let out a little noise in your sleep, brows furrowing down. It’s when his finger rubs against your clit ever so softly that your mouth pops open, a little panting whimper escaping you that makes Negan’s cock twitch.

He continues to rub at you for another minute or so, just until you start to wake up and then he stops again. He does this several times, working you up and then stopping and waiting until you settle back down again. Every time you were worked a little closer to the edge your sleep grew a little more restless and Negan loved to see it.

Eventually, he slides one finger inside you, pushing inside with little resistance. Clenching around him, he appreciatively gazes over the way you whimper and subconsciously grind yourself back against him. He slides a second in, pausing when you make a sound dangerously close to consciousness. Negan holds his breath, waiting to see if you’ll settle back down again. He’s already pushed the limits of the depth of your sleep.

Once you relax, he starts to pump them inside you. He’s not close to caring if you wake any more, and arches his fingers inside you, hitting that spot that he knows you love so much. Oh, the amount of times he’s made you squirt from attention to that spot. Your whining grows louder, hips beginning to wiggle before you finally open your eyes, letting out a yelp that mixes overwhelming pleasure and shock.

Your instinct is to kick him off and get him away from you. But Negan knows this and knows exactly how to stop that plan right in its tracks.

“Oh, what’s the matter, doll?” Negan laughs, pressing his free hand into your thigh to keep your legs from closing. He clambers onto the bed between your legs, situating himself comfortably. You cry out, head falling back as he thrusts his fingers into a particularly good spot. “Cat got your tongue, huh?”

“Oh, fuck- Negan- what are you doing?” You pant, thighs quivering. Your jaw drops open as he shoves a third finger inside, stretching you so nicely it’s all you can do not to melt completely into the bed.

“What does it look like?” He replies, pressing a sharp and painful bite into your knee. You whine and try to knee him. He catches the rogue knee and bites down into the flesh of your thigh painfully. You chuckle out a moan and he crooks his fingers up. The man knows what he’s doing, that is for sure.

Negan presses kisses down your thigh until he reaches between your legs, his beard scratching at your soft skin. He flicks the tip of his tongue over your clit and laughs at the way you gasp, bringing your hands up to tug at his hair.

“Now, now,” he tuts disapprovingly. “Don’t be rude, baby. Daddy’s workin’.”

You groan in frustration, but it doesn’t take long before he’s flicking his tongue over your clit like he’s praying to God (aka, your pussy) and fucking into you with his fingers at the same time. He knows exactly which spots to make you come undone, and exactly which letters to trace over your clit with his tongue to make you shake around him. You’re sure whatever he’s tracing into you are absolutely filthy words, but he’s never actually told you the prayer he carves with his tongue into your pussy. You doubt he ever will.

You cum like that, on his fingers and on his tongue. And he works you through it, licking up every drop of your cum. You grow restless with the overstimulation, whining and bucking beneath him. He holds you down and forces another one, and then a third orgasm out of you.

You’re a sweaty and exhausted mess by the time he's done. Muscles twitch and your legs ache like nothing else. Negan collapses on the bed beside you and pulls you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You grin, and capture him in a deep kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. This wasn’t the first time he’d done this with you, and it wouldn’t be the last.

The both of you had acquired taste, but that’s just what made you so perfect for each other.

“Now, how about a shower?”

#one shot #the walking dead #negan #negan smut #negan smith #negan x reader #negan smith x reader #negans thirst squad #the walking dead fanfiction #jeffrey dean morgan #lemon #negan x you #negan x y/n #the walking dead fic #jdm fic #jdm fanfiction #smut

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smutinlove · 6 months

Text

Carl Grimes x Reader Smut

───── ❝ authors note ❞ ─────

I finished writing this so i said "why not?"

───── ❝ authors note ❞ ─────

{}

You've known Carl since the prison. You were injured, and he brought you back to the prison.

But after the prison fell, you and Carl got separated. But when you and Carl managed to reunite at Terminus, he had tears in his eyes. But he claimed it was his allergies.

And now you were in a town called Alexandria. It seemed alright to you. But you sometimes wondered if the Alexandrians knew anything about the outside world.

If they did, they wouldn't be throwing parties for newcomers. Speaking of parties, you and Carl were invited to one. It was lovely. You were able to socialize with kids your age. But you mostly hung around Carl all night. But he didn't mind. He enjoyed your company.

However, there was one secret, one that you and Carl both shared. You two were dating in secret. You didn't want to tell Rick, as he'd probably give you a lecture on not having sex and avoiding making another Judith. It sometimes got hard to keep the secret. Especially when Carl just couldn't resist you.

You were saying something, but Carl wasn't exactly listening. Instead, he was staring at your lips. "Yo-yo," he muttered. You rolled your eyes. Carl started calling you "yo-yo" because you tripped over one and slid down a road. It was silly.

"Yeah?"

"Can we leave? It's getting late," he said. You smiled. It was getting late. So you nodded your head.

"So where are we going?" you asked with a grin.

"I was thinking my house?" He said. He looked at you. You had a mischievous smile on your face.

{}

Once you were in his room, you closed and locked the door. When you turned back to face him, he had already taken off his shirt.

"Carl..." you whispered. He came over to you and kissed your lips. You smiled into the kiss and pulled away.

"You are so beautiful," You whispered.

You pulled off your shirt and bra. He bit his lip.

Then you took off your pants and underwear.

"Now you." You said. He nodded and undid his belt and pants and kicked them off.

He walked over to his bed and lay down. "I missed this." You said. "Me too." He grabbed your hips and slowly guided you down on his length. You moaned at the feeling. "Shit."

"You feel so good." Carl groaned. You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips. You sat up and began bouncing on him. His grip on your hips tightened. He let his head fall back.

"I've been thinking about this all day." Carl moaned. You placed your hands on his chest and continued bouncing on him. "I know. I was thinking about this too."

Carl groaned. You let your fingers graze his nipples. "Y/n..." Carl whimpered. "Are you close?" You asked.

He nodded his head. And you replied, "Me too."

"Y/n... shit!" Carl groaned as he came inside of you. "Carl," you whimpered as you came on him. You climbed off of him and lay down next to him. He wrapped his arm around you and kissed your forehead.

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gutsby · 4 months

Text

Fake It Til You Make It (Or Drown)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Daryl finds out you faked an orgasm. Instead of getting mad, he decides to get even.

Warnings: NSFW. Every TWD character is drunk in this. Unprotected p-in-v. Soiling Michonne’s decorative towels and almost drowning Eugene. Carol-mandated makeup time with Daryl turns to edging and angry sex.

And the Oscar for Best Faked Orgasm goes to��

“Y/N,” Daryl groaned, shooting his load deep inside you.

You arched your back and curled your toes, even let out a sultry little gasp for good measure. Forced your walls to clench around his cock then pulse, periodically—you counted a silent one, two, squeeze in your head every so often and tried to make it so your tremors felt authentic. You practically had this shit down to a science by now.

Women like you weren’t built for quickies. You needed more time to cum, no matter the occasion.

You simply couldn’t and wouldn’t ever make it to climax with fifteen seconds of foreplay followed by Daryl throwing you up against the counter and jackhammering you hard on the edge for three minutes max. This wasn’t a porno, and you didn’t have a clit made of firecrackers.

Men like Daryl couldn’t stand the thought of you not cumming every time you had sex, though, so you sought to ease his mind on the matter during times you knew it was a physical impossibility to reach bliss. A liar you were not, but an occasional teller of euphoric fibs? Hell, you might’ve been tempted to dabble every now and then.

You adored the way he looked down at you when he finished, chocolate locks matted to his forehead and a smile shining bright on his face. He was tender and sweet, always gentle to pry you off of the sink, and he’d be watching you with admiration all the while.

Rick and Michonne’s booze-fueled pool parties had that effect on you both—always scrambling for a spare room to fuck in the second you arrived like you’d forgotten how good the other one looked dressed in swimwear.

Daryl shimmied the bottom half of your lime green bikini back up your legs and patted your rear with affection.

“I think Rick would be proud,” he said.

“I think Michonne would be pissed.”

You glanced down at the lovely little decorative towels Daryl had used as a sweat rag and made a mental note to wash those back at your place. You yelped when Daryl dropped his hand back down to your heat.

“Still sensitive?” he smiled.

“Uh huh.”

You were already trying to slide past his frame toward the bathroom door, where the sounds of the party outside were growing louder each minute. In truth, you knew that spot where Daryl’s fingers had almost grazed would have been a lot more sensitive had you actually just came, and that tell alone would have given your act away. You couldn’t have that, so you quickly pulled him in for a kiss and pushed his hands back up to your hips.

Daryl’s tongue traced the seal of your lips and parted them for a far more passionate kiss than you’d expected. You let his tongue roam anyway, but inside, you felt slightly confused as to why your boyfriend was still so…horny when he’d just blown his load a minute ago.

You moved languidly toward the door as Daryl continued to kiss you. He was touching your waist a little strangely, the more you came to think of it. Maybe frisky from the whiskey?

Your hand reached the doorknob the second his did. Daryl pulled away and let the corners of his mouth twist almost cruelly in a grin before turning the handle and nudging you out.

You shuffled a few awkward steps past the door. Daryl was hot on your heels, hand at the small of your back when his lips returned to your ear—just for a second, this time. He leaned in close, now, and murmured real low:

“I know you faked it.”

Then he pushed you forward again, only for you to trip over your own two feet trying to turn and face him.

“What?” you hissed. Playing dumb.

But if you could play dumb, Daryl was more than happy to play stupid as fuck. He ignored your outburst altogether and waved at someone behind you, pretending not to see you staring up at him with exasperation painting your face.

“Eugene! Swim trunks look great.”

Across the room, Eugene extended a lengthy ‘thank you’ and told Daryl that he, too, was looking snazzy, and you knew better than to try and pry Daryl’s attention away. Reluctantly, you turned around and made every effort not to show your present emotions on your face. In truth, you were nervous as fuck wondering what Daryl might do now that he knew you’d faked your climax.

You could try and make it up quick. Minimize the fallout.

The second Eugene departed, and it was just the two of you standing in the kitchen, you shamelessly reached for the outline of Daryl’s dick in his shorts.

Daryl swatted your hand away.

“My penis only goes where it’s appreciated,” he told you quietly, feigning that same stupid smile that signaled to everyone else who might pass by that things were fine.

They weren’t. Daryl probably hated your guts right now.

His seed was still dripping from your cunt, and you longed for the feeling of having him inside you, whole. But you got the sense that that wasn’t happening any time soon, as Daryl promptly greeted two more familiar faces and obliged you to mingle too. You faced Rosita and Abraham with a thinly veiled look of despair, and you gathered that the former picked up on it pretty fast.

“What’s up?” Rosita asked, pulling you to the side while Daryl and Abe chatted.

“I fucked up bad, like— legitimately screwed the pooch.”

“What did you do?”

You pursed your lips and felt the burn of Daryl’s glare over Rosita’s shoulder, sensing then that you’d probably be better off just keeping your mouth shut.

Hurriedly, you said under your breath,

“IfakedanorgasmandDaryl’sreallymad.”

“Daryl’s mad at what? Why?” Rosita said, shrill as ever.

You wanted to clamp your hand over her mouth, but it was too late. Daryl was quick to find your form lingering on his periphery and took your waist in one arm in a lasso-like motion. You guessed you’d be taken off to the slaughter any minute now—which was just getting chewed out by Daryl or given a half-dozen grumpy looks. You almost would’ve preferred the knife to the throat.

Confirming your worst fears, Daryl raised a beer with Abraham and suggested you all go for a swim.

That sounded like a setup if you’d ever heard one.

Perhaps overwrought with paranoia and a few too many Twisted Teas, you found your feet shuffling as slow as you could toward the thick sliding doors and Rosita at your rear asking what the hell was going on.

You made a big, fat ‘O’ with your hands and shook your head, hoping she’d understand—and Daryl wouldn’t see. It turned out neither of your wishes were to come true in that moment, and your boyfriend only pulled you closer to his side while the four of you strolled outside.

“Real mature,” he muttered.

“You’re one to talk,” you retorted.

“Could we please talk at a level most humans can hear?”

That last interjection was Eugene, sidling up to the group with his floaties already strapped to his biceps. You eyed the man, then his beer, then his bright red flotation devices, and hoped like hell Daryl wasn’t about to start playing drunk trivia now that your genius friend was plastered. Or worse yet, encourage him to swim.

“How many lies does the average woman tell in her life?”

You really needed to start keeping your hopes and dreams to yourself. You glared at Daryl.

Eugene was already devising some half-baked formula in his brain, or else retrieving another far-removed factoid that he’d learned on a game show in 2005, and presently answered Daryl’s question with a quirk of his brow.

“I…can’t say it’s a gender-dependent question, my friend. If I were to make an educated guess I’d give—”

“A million more for men,” Rosita interrupted, flashing a wry smile at Abraham, “Most men lie like they breathe.”

“Amen!” Carol called from the tiki bar. You loved and you hated Alexandria’s grown-up parties sometimes.

“Well maybe— maybe men lie more to get sex, but women lie about sex.” Daryl shot the most conspicuous look in your direction, and you’re fairly certain Rick and Michonne shared a look of, ‘Ah shit,’ simultaneously.

Inside, the two were secretly hoping they’d catch wind from the babysitter that Judith and RJ wanted to be picked up, or else learned that a horde of walkers had laid siege on one of the outer-facing walls, because they knew from experience that these fights never ended well. The last time you and Daryl ticked each other off in public there had come a very loud and very obnoxious karaoke rendition of Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Silver Springs’ sung drunkenly between the two of you, and frankly, no one at the party wanted to see a repeat of that.

You wrested your arm out of Daryl’s hold and took a seat opposite Carol at the bar. Nodding when she offered to pour you some tropical concoction with a lot of rum, then pretending not to see Sasha eye Daryl warily.

“Whiskey dick give him trouble?” she murmured to you.

“You say his brother’s name in bed?” Rosita quipped.

“First off, he’s dead,” you said, before dropping your voice to a whisper, “Second, it wasn’t the whiskey or anything, I just…couldn’t cum, so I faked it. That’s it!”

You figured if Daryl was airing out your dirty laundry for the whole group to hear, you might as well beat him to the punch when it came to your closest friends. You could tell Sasha was trying hard not to smirk.

“That’s…that’s it?” she reiterated.

“Just now,” you mumbled, “Don’t tell Rick and Michonne, but we were holed up in the bathroom an—”

“Anyway, okay, no details but you told a little lie, so what?” Sasha proceeded without a hitch.

Carol waved the margarita she was making in vehement agreement and handed it over to you. Telling you to drink, now, with her eyes as soon as she caught a glimpse of Daryl’s disgruntled expression across the way.

“Yeah, so what? You told a fib to keep his ego intact, what’s the harm?”

“I’m saying!” You pointed to her before taking a sip.

“I think honesty is the best policy,” Daryl declared out loud like he’d just discovered the Atlantic.

At his side, Eugene eyed him up and down as if to say, ‘What the fuck are we talking about?’ You surmised that probably only half the group understood what was going on between Daryl and you, but most got the gist that the two of you were beefing. Again. Carol proceeded to drain her piña colada like her life depended on it, and Abraham and Rick suddenly gained interest in something inside.

Daryl wasn’t backing down. In fact, he raised his voice.

“And if she’s willin’ ta lie once, who knows how many other times she—”

“Be fucking for real,” you rolled your eyes, “I wasn’t faking most other times, and you know it.”

“Most times? So ya did it other times?”

“Folks, I cannot say with utmost certainty that this is a healthy coping mechanism for a relationship like y—”

“Shut up, Eugene.”

You could tell just how incensed Daryl was by the color of his cheeks. In a world that almost never raised the hue above a baby pink, you were alarmed to see him turn a shade or two shy of crimson. You knew something lewd or unkind was likely to flare behind those cobalt eyes any second now.

“How many times for Spencer, then?” Daryl growled.

He knew that shit was off-limits. A happenstance situationship that started and ended long before you’d ever dated Daryl. Now he was just being mean.

“Alright, guys, how about we take a second to cool off?” Michonne was using the same voice she assumed whenever trying to talk Judith or RJ out of a cranky mood. You saw Daryl already had the insolent pout of the children down pat, that was for sure.

“Maybe if you’d asked Leah she would’ve said the same,” you spat.

Daryl abandoned his beer and moved closer to you, just narrowly checked by Sasha’s warning touch and even more persuasive gaze. He paused for a second, crinkled his nose, and seemed to be considering something a moment or two longer before finally deciding to be petty.

“At least I didn’t have to ask Leah to swallow.”

That was it. You reared back and chucked your bright pink strawberry marg directly at Daryl’s head, unleashing a string of unsavory names as you did so. Daryl easily side-stepped, and the next in line to receive the airborne drink was Eugene. Completely defenseless, per usual, and not at all prepared to be hit in the face by a plastic glass filled with syrup, liquor, and slush, the man was a sitting duck.

He shrieked the second it struck him below the eyebrow. His hand clamped over his eye, and he stumbled back a few steps.

“Eugene!” came more than one voice, including your own.

The mulleted man wailed and spun perilously on his heels, trying blindly to make a beeline for the house but ending up walking straight into the pool ahead of him. Your whole party jumped to their feet and scrambled after him.

Apart from the aid of his arm floaties, the man was completely unable to swim—and still blinking fiercely through a sheet of strawberry-flavored ice as he flailed about in the water and cried for help.

Sasha, Rosita, Michonne, and Daryl didn’t hesitate; all four dove head first into the pool to save their friend.

Two hours had passed, and you and Daryl were still in time-out—courtesy of Carol and Michonne.

Deprived of your right to drink, smoke, fight, or fuck (at least not with condoms), you and your boyfriend had been placed in indefinite non-solitary confinement sitting perched outside the hot tub with instructions to make up, or else. So far, no words had passed between the two of you, and it had just started to rain.

Daryl waved to the kitchen window, where Carol was watching you both with narrowed eyes.

“Can we come inside now?” he groaned, motioning to the storm clouds overhead.

Carol gave him one emphatic thumbs down and turned to stir her broth on the stove.

This was your group-imposed “getting along” punishment: stay outside until you make amends. You kicked your feet in the bubbling water and cursed yourself for ever thinking it was a wise idea to stroke a man’s ego and fake an orgasm in the first place.

Then you lowered yourself into the water, seeing as there was not much else to do.

“Ya tryna be human stew? Get out,” Daryl snapped.

“Great, maybe Carol can throw me in her soup and I won’t have to continue this stupid fucking conversation.” You knew the dangers of swimming in a rainstorm, but you didn’t want to give Daryl the satisfaction of knowing you’d stop for his sake. You sank deeper into the hot tub.

Daryl slid across the wet slab of rock and concrete and reached for your shoulder.

“Quit bein’ difficult.”

“Quit being pushy,” you said with an ineffectual splash in his direction. His fingertips still seared hot on your skin as he touched you just above the shoulder blade.

“Oh, was I also bein’ pushy—” Daryl cut himself short.

You looked up, curious. Still refusing to budge.

“Pushy when?”

“When you took your pretty ass outta this tub before you got struck by lightning.”

Daryl received an unamused scowl in return. When you pressed again, he bent down and took you underneath both armpits, hauling you out of the hot tub with infuriating ease.

“Or when I…wanted to have sex and you clearly didn’t.”

Ouch. You jumped back in the water with an even deeper frown.

“I still wanted to have sex, Daryl! I just couldn’t get off as quick as you.”

“So you lied.”

You hastened to the other side of the mini pool when Daryl climbed inside. Your back flattened on the rock, and your eyes shot him a critical look as if to say, ‘I ain’t coming out.’

“Technically, you never asked,” you shrugged.

Daryl scoffed and straightened his own posture on the opposite end of the hot tub, feigning amusement but likely inflamed with irritation inside.

“I touched— I rubbed your pussy to see if you were sensitive. Don’t that mean somethin’?”

“Means you didn’t ask me shit. I never said I came.” You folded your arms across your chest in defiance, but deep down, you knew that a lie by omission was still a lie. Daryl’s facial expression communicated as much as he swam in your direction.

“So you couldn’t…ask me to wait a little longer to help you finish?” Daryl approached you close enough to graze your knees, so you felt obliged to press yourself harder against the wall, “Ya know I’d eat the cum out yer pussy if I knew it’d get ya off, sweetheart.”

Indeed, you knew. You should’ve known better than to accuse him of selfishness or inadequate communication—Daryl was a generous lover, and one who was always willing to wait, whether that meant delaying his climax or putting a pause on sex altogether. You felt an unlikely shiver in the boiling hot water when your boyfriend’s frame slipped between your legs beneath the surface.

“Even if I’d finished first, ya know I’d lick ya clean and make that pretty pussy cum all over my face an’ fingers. Ya do know tha’, right?”

He wanted to hear you say it. His hands had just started to trail a slow course up your legs as you released a shaky breath and nodded your head.

“I know, baby, I just— I just like seeing how riled up and sweaty you get when you fuck me for a quickie. You always seem so…satisfied pulling out I just hate to make you get hard all over again on my account.” Your voice was quieter then, breaking off in the gentlest whimper when Daryl’s knuckles grazed your heat.

Then, with the other hand, he moved your fingers to feel how hard he was under his swim trunks.

“Thought ya knew me better’n tha’,” he tsked you softly as he rubbed your hand up and down the length of his clothed erection, “I’m always hard fer ya, honey.”

You swallowed and sighed the second you felt him throb in your hand underwater. You wanted him now.

When your fingers fumbled for the drawstring of his shorts, however, Daryl nudged your touch away. Brought his own to the bottom of the bright green bikini you were wearing and slipped a digit underneath the fabric.

“This poor little clit,” he lamented, circling just lightly enough to draw breathy mewls from your mouth.

You spread your legs even wider to allow him access. When he pulled you to his chest, you felt his heart thrumming as fast as yours was. The light drizzle of rain overhead was growing heavier by the second.

This was not the makeup session Carol or Michonne had envisioned when they’d sent the two of you off to talk. You and Daryl just happened to make amends a little differently than most—semi-publicly, sometimes.

“Can’t imagine how bad it’s been achin’ since I last fucked that pretty little hole,” Daryl continued, index and middle finger now rubbing lazy circles over the spot where he’d pried your bikini to the side.

You sat, spread eagle with your mouth ajar and your eyes on his. Oh, how he loved you like this: partly supine and looking so pathetic. His fingers worked even faster.

“Been needin’ daddy’s touch, has it?” he teased before moving his digits to your slick entrance. Then, pressing just a finger inside and feeling your walls instinctively contract, “Now tha’s a believable squeeze.”

He smiled and you realized he knew a real clench from a fake one by now. That dramatized show you’d put on for him earlier almost made you feel ashamed now, gathering just how good a proper fingerfucking felt when you actually gave your boyfriend the chance to try.

He pushed another finger inside and curled them both with expert precision. You let out a helpless moan the second he grazed your g-spot.

“Baby, I need it,” you whimpered, “I need to cum so, so badly.”

Daryl nodded as though feeling your pleasure—and pain. He worked a vicious rhythm against your cunt and let a smile spread across his lips the longer he watched you writhe and moan amidst the hot, churning waters. When your stomach started to flutter and your entrance gave a warning pulse, you didn’t even need to inform him of your impending climax; you closed your eyes and prepared for the sweet bliss in expectant silence.

That was, until, Daryl retracted his fingers and climbed out of the hot tub.

Sorely misled ecstasy withered before your eyes.

You whined. Louder than you meant to.

“Daryl!”

Your boyfriend had taken up a spot standing at the side of the hot tub, pretending to be so overcome with heat exhaustion that he just couldn’t stay in a second longer.

He wiped his brow and watched you smugly.

“You say sumn’, sugar?” he asked as he sat down on the water’s edge to plant a kiss at the top of your head.

“You’re sick,” you muttered, dodging any additional condescending smooches by scooting over. When Daryl slowly leaned down toward the water, you scowled.

Then he patted the wet slab of concrete beside him.

“Jus’ want you to cum on my tongue. C’mon.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world—clearly he couldn’t eat you out underwater, so he was just being kind to give you a place to sit while he tonguefucked you silly.

You pretended not to notice the smirk twisting at the corners of his lips as you climbed out of the hot tub and reluctantly followed his motions.

Your legs spread just a little, now perched at the edge of the sauna while Daryl sank back in the water and positioned his head perfectly with your core. A sidelong glance to the nearest window showed that Carol had disappeared from the kitchen, but you knew you would have to make this quick.

Without ceremony, you yanked a tuft of Daryl’s wet hair and guided his face even closer to your heat. Far past the point of pleasantries, you pulled your bathing suit to the side and presented yourself, bare as ever, to Daryl’s eager tongue and lips.

Your boyfriend supplied you with both in an instant, dragging his tongue up the whole length of your slit with a groan. Wanting to savor the taste, were it not for your quiet pleas for him to finish this, please, Carol could be back any minute.

Daryl lapped between your folds, happy as ever, and left a series of suctioned kisses on the spots where he knew you needed him most. Gripped your thighs in either hand, pulled your bottoms so far he almost snapped the fabric in half, and practically devoured that needy cunt.

The man was a pussy-eating prodigy, to put it mildly. He dove deep between your thighs like oxygen was the furthest thing from his mind and sucked on your clit as if it were a lifeline. Your back arched out of instinct, legs clamping on either side of his head and chest rising and falling in stuttered breaths. You moaned and felt Daryl’s own grunts join the reverberations shaking your body; for a second, you thought you were almost seeing stars.

When Daryl inserted two fingers and swirled his tongue around that sensitive nub, you were certain that moment was soon to come.

“Mmm, just like that, baby, fuck,” you breathed, rutting your hips ever slightly against his face. Daryl, soaked with your arousal and waves of scalding water, just held his place and kept licking over, and over, and over.

Your grip fastened harsher in his hair the second a pleasant coil pulled tight along your tummy. You planted your calves on either side of Daryl’s neck, braced your body to the concrete, and felt a heady bliss make its second appearance of the night.

A quiet slurp marked the sudden disconnect between Daryl’s mouth and your aching core. You almost fell off the edge of the hot tub as your mind and body both stopped devastatingly short of full climax. This time, you almost shrieked.

“DARYL!”

“Got a tongue cramp. Sorry.”

Too bad he was grinning from ear-to-ear with no trace of a muscle spasm anywhere on his face. You splashed him with a massive wave and went scrambling to your feet.

“Fuck this. I’ve got a vibrator at home.” You were already pulling your panties back in place, muttering some less-than kind words under your breath, and kicking yourself twice for ever believing Daryl was mature enough to treat this as anything other than a game.

“Hey! Baby, wait!” Daryl called after you. Then he was getting up and getting out too.

“You blame me for fucking around, and you— you go and pull some shit like this?!”

You waved a silent, dismissive hand when Daryl started after you, trailing hot on your heels with a look that almost would’ve seemed apologetic had he not been fighting a laugh the entire time.

When his hands landed on your shoulders from behind, you moved to shrug him off and told him, with a finger supplanting your words, to get fucked. You groaned internally when Daryl pulled you in for a tight embrace.

“It’s called edging, sweetheart,” he hummed in your ear.

“It’s called being an asshole and shutting my orgasms down on purpose.” You wriggled to free yourself from his arms but found the man behind you unwilling to cooperate; in fact, the more you struggled, the more snug his grasp got. You battled against his far superior strength no longer than a minute or two before Daryl plucked you right off your feet and into a bridal hold.

“What do we say when we really wanna cum?” he asked, almost patronizing. Then, as if to put a finer point on it, he ambled toward the edge of the pool and swayed your soft, soaking frame over it.

“You’re fucking crazy!” you hissed, still wrestling against his chest.

You sensed that might not have been the wisest choice of words given your current predicament, but Daryl didn’t seem fazed in the slightest.

“Did I hear a ‘please’ in there?” he asked, rocking you back and forth over the water’s edge.

“Please put me down.” Your voice was low and importunate, eyes warning him just the same.

“O-kay.”

And down you went. Into the pool. Your boyfriend still cradling you in his arms while you thrashed and splashed and called him every profane name in the book.

You’d just swept the wet mass of hair from your forehead when Daryl pinned you to the wall. Your back was flush to his chest, and his breath was hot on your ear.

“Promise y’ain’t gonna fake it this time?” Daryl murmured through gritted teeth, one hand yanking your swimsuit bottoms to the side and the other pulling his own down his hips.

You gripped the side of the pool and cast a quick look to the kitchen. Carol was nowhere in sight, but who knew how much longer she—and everyone else—would be gone? You bit your lip when Daryl dragged the head of his cock between your legs.

“We can’t do this, Dar—”

“I said, are you gonna fake it? Pretty simple question.”

Your folds had already parted with his length in between them, hole pleading for his entry when all he had done was rut his hips in place and tease your slit. You pressed your ass right into him and tried hard not to whine as you sensed your cover could be blown at any moment. Daryl nipped at the skin behind your ear and repeated his question, this time enveloping your frame with his when he bent you over the side of the pool.

Your eyes flickered to the warm glow of the kitchen, and you felt the rain come down even harder—your vision, with the distance and the downpour, was almost totally obscured.

Fuck it.

“Promise I won’t— I swear.” Your voice now scarcely above a whisper.

That seemed to satisfy Daryl well enough. No more than a second later, he was plowing inside you, gripping your hip for support and your hand in his own for what seemed to be encouragement of sorts. You squeezed his fingers back as soon as the first influx of pleasure rolled through you.

“Quiet, quiet for me, baby,” Daryl warned close to your ear, gaze scanning the house for any new onlookers, “Jus’ stay. fuckin’. quiet.”

He wasted no time railing you from behind—an impressive feat for a man standing halfway underwater—and simultaneously kept a lookout for your friends inside. Before him, you’d folded like a lawn chair over the wet concrete, yielding to each thrust like you were born for this position and made to take his cock. Then your walls clenched around him, whimpers came loud and fast, and the rain beat a shrill cadence all around.

Daryl dropped a hand to your clit and smiled the second you whined and almost bucked him off. Finally, that sweet sensitivity was back.

He knew from two false starts and more hard edging than you ever would have liked to endure, you wouldn’t last long. You felt a pressure on your neck bringing you up to his chest and those same, ardent lips almost charring your skin when they pressed above your ear:

“Who’s a good girl?”

Another sharp thrust in your cunt.

“I am,” you cried, clawing at his wrist the second his fingers started tightening around your throat. Almost unable to bear it, but loving it all the same.

“Gonna be honest with daddy ‘bout those orgasms?” Daryl chided, “Make a mess of daddy’s cock like yer s’posed’a?”

You nodded as best you could with your throat trapped in his hold and your lips damn near turning blue the second he got to kissing them. Your back arched into his chest, and your body convulsed with pleasure the deeper he went. Daryl loved the way you watched him as he did.

That was what he’d missed. That was what he knew you couldn’t muster in your piss-poor performances of late, what had tipped him off to the truth of your euphoric state with times like today. This was what he needed to see every time he fucked you from now on—if he had to spend a lifetime or two trying to get you there, so be it.

Daryl caught your lips in a long, heated kiss before bottoming out inside you. The sharp nudge to your insides and the brush against your most delicate spot was more than enough to push you over the edge.

Bliss broke through your body like a bat out of hell, and your moans rang loud in Daryl’s mouth as he fucked you through it. And, sadistic motherfucker that he was, he actually smiled when your teeth sank through his lip and drew blood from the surface.

All he cared was that you came, no bullshit this time.

As a metallic tang and an ecstatic trance washed over you, your body went limp in Daryl’s arms. He pulled out, still hard, and rubbed a hand over your ass underwater.

You could feel him beaming with pride right behind you.

But, just when he moved to turn you around, a sight in the bushes sent your heart in your throat. One dark patch of foliage shook with unusual force a few yards away, and you heard some sticks break as someone, shielded by leaves, appeared to lose their balance.

Daryl’s grip on you locked, then tightened, then dropped altogether when a clumsy form came tumbling out.

“EUGENE!”

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