alyhorse6

[alyhorse6]

now playing: <the regular's special> 00:00/1:30:00

starring: hooters au!Chris, Carlos, & Leon x regular!reader

MDNI + tw: smut, dp, gangbang, oral (both receiving), facial, pure filth, nsfw

☆ star's note: major credits and thanks to @ghostsghoul who inspired this, edited, and beta read everything! ++ i hope it is everything yall have been anticipating since the fic was announced! love yall mwacks 🥰❤️❤️

☆ starlets: @cherubify @mrswint3rs @elihii @iixtsmee @admirxation @ressespearlz @shiawaseorii @rigorwhoring @sqiim @localkiss

one more hour. that was the only obstacle between you and the glowing green exit sign three cubicles over. your ass was hurting from how long it's been practically glued to the chair. you had even skipped your lunch break to finish the stupid last-minute assignment your team leader had dumped onto your overflowing plate of tasks.

daydreams of stepping out into the streets and finally returning to your house after a long day of gruelling office work filled your head. you could practically feel your soft couch under your back, taste the good food you were gonna eat when you reached home, and the selection of flicks you were going to have to choose from mundanely-

"hey, don't forget we're having team dinner and drinks at the new place downtown! stoked to have all of us gather again for a catch-up!"

your team leader's hand felt like the rough ridges of shackles weighing you down and dragging you further away from heaven (your home) down the jagged and fiery path straight into the depths of hell (dinner with your workplace) with its many demonic occupants (your colleagues and bosses). you plastered a smile onto your face like the perfect little employee that you were and gave an immensely enthused nod.

"yup. how could i forget?"

you say through a tight teethy grimace that everybody had accepted as your actual smile. as your team leader retreated back to her cubicle, the distance between you and that glowing green salvation of the exit sign grew further and further. you sighed heavily and began to type at your screen again.

when it was time to leave, your feet trudged numbly within the throng of your other colleagues. almost everybody looked just as miserable if not more miserable than you did, minus the bosses who were chatting everyone's ears off with talks about how company bonding was important, how it was nice to see everyone in such 'high spirits', and how we would absolutely love the place that we were headed towards for dinner.

when you arrived there, your jaw fell to the floor. pretty much identical to those cartoon scenes where the characters would have the most exaggerated shocked expressions being illustrated. what stood before you was none other than the latest establishment of Hooter's brother company. Tooters.

why Tooters? you don't know. maybe it's because men like to 'toot' their own 'longhorns' or something. but seriously. a company dinner at this place is basically an HR disaster waiting to happen.

you always knew your company was one of those quirkier ones who present themselves as a flat structured place despite the clear hierarchies and numbers and clear intent on exploiting their workers as slaves of capitalism. but you didn't know it was going to be this bad.

a tall server with curly hair, the prettiest eyes you have ever seen (which you were definitely focusing on despite how his tits were practically bursting from his cropped uniform), and a handsome smile came out to serve your group. your eyes met his and he flashed you a wink as he ushered everyone in. your ears felt hot as you returned his wink with a single polite nod before jogging to join the rest at the assigned seating area.

you sat next to your cubicle mate, chatting idly about everything and nothing at all. the hyped energy from your bosses was beginning to drain you. you had drinks, appetisers, and then their main speciality. the Tooters bowl. it looked like a regular seasoned rice bowl but god was it amazing. it was the perfect blend of spice, sweet, salty, tangy, and everything. the vegetables were crunchy and fresh and the meat was perfect. there was no way this bowl was being served at an expected 3-star diner chain that relies on the phrase 'sex sells' in its entirety.

everything else was a blur. all you could think about were the amazing flavours bursting in your mouth. you barely even drank, relishing in the taste. when you were done, your colleagues were practically hammered, chatter increasing in volume as everybody began going off on drunken tangents. and that's when your eyes met his.

a sturdy-built man whose cropped Tooters uniform looked painted on stood on the opposite end. he had a buzz cut and lines in the corners of his eyes. his huge arms were crossed over his chest as he stared at your table. at you. your heart raced. this man, just like the other server, was so handsome. if this was what too much testosterone did, you're not complaining. your eyes trailed down his perfect abs to his happy trail that disappeared beneath his tooters shorts which did not hide his huge package at all.

catching yourself, your eyes snapped back to meet his gaze. he had a small knowing smirk tugging on his lips. you felt your whole body warm from the tips of your ears down to your sore feet in your office pumps. you looked down into your empty bowl, carding your fingers through your hair lightly to soothe your nerves.

what hit the nail in the coffin was the fact that when it was finally time to leave, the server that cleared the plates on your table literally stole your breath. his hands brushed yours as you passed him your bowl out of instinctive helpfulness. he flicked his blonde hair out of his face with a light shake of his face and he winked at you.

"thanks, doll."

he says with ease, and a lazy smile tugging at his pretty lips. you wanted to trace it with your fingers. you blinked quickly and nodded, watching him let out a soft laugh as he walked away. he was buff in a leaner way. the kind that made him Eros where the previous two servers were Hercules and Ares respectively.

you cleared your throat and buried your face in your hands. was this place heaven? seriously? good food, hot men in skimpy tops, and cushioned seats that did not smell like marinated sweaty ass? you were on cloud 9 when you practically floated home that day. went out like a light too after such a long and eventful night.

in the coming weeks, your feet kept bringing you back to Tooters. their food was insanely good and after your gruelling office hours, it was the perfect boost. their food provided you with a balance to your mental health. food this good should be illegal. they had the shiniest wings with the most flavourful sauces, meals that tasted almost homecooked, and the servers were super nice to you once you got past the whole...uniform situation.

"sweetheart! i missed you!"

a familiar booming voice called out. you let out a laugh when you turn to see Carlos walking towards your table. he had the same grin on his face, his pretty eyes twinkling.

"sure, Carlos."

you rolled your eyes.

"no, 'i missed you too'?"

he teased, clicking his pen and readying his ordering notepad.

"hmm maybe if you made my wings extra fresh?"

you quipped back, ignoring how warm your face felt which made him let out a hearty laugh.

"sweetheart, that's a toughie. and you know i make dreams come true."

you shrugged nonchalantly.

"guess i don't miss you too."

you shrugged jokingly. he sighed in mock defeat.

"fine sweetheart. for you, i'll see what i can do."

he says before walking away. you physically tore your eyes away from the swell of his ass. as you waited for your meal, you realised that there weren't a lot of people during lunch hour. guess most of their patronage came at night when the drinks would start pouring out. you weren't a drinker at all. you began scrolling your phone when a few small taps against the wood of your table.

"hi, doll. did you order the Tooters bowl with a side of wings and...let me guess...an iced tea?"

a smooth huskier voice asked. you put down your phone and met his icy blue eyes.

"wrong. i ordered a soda this time."

he flashed you that model-like million-dollar smile.

"you don't even like soda, doll."

he says, quirking one of his brows at you.

"i know. i'm trying it out since you suggested one the other time."

your response made the blonde's smile grow.

"ah, you know how to win a man's heart, doll."

his comment made you blush. despite his usual amount of flirtatiousness, you couldn't help but feel your face warm.

"how much did you get tipped for that?"

you ask jokingly, face scrunched at him. he chuckles and shakes his head.

"how much are you tipping me? you're the only i've ever said this to you know."

he teased, smiling at you. you rolled your eyes despite your increasingly warm face. however, the banter didn't last long as he was soon called away to serve another table. so you continued scrolling on your phone, willing your heart to stop racing so much. why did all their server hires have to look like they freshly stepped out of those hunky male magazines? you felt like a victorian man seeing ankles for the first time sometimes.

and then you smelled it. the waft of warm tastiness floating from the bowl of food. you felt your mouth water. you looked up and it was none other than Chris, the manager of the servers, coming up to you with your order.

"here you go, miss. Carlos says to tell you that the wings are made extra fresh. just as you requested."

despite the depth of his voice, Chris spoke it with a gentleness that made your chest flutter. you offered him a smile and thanked him to which he nodded. you would never get used to this hulking giant of a man whose voice, looks, smile, and overall energy would make you physically melt. he's so handsome and stoic in the manliest of ways.

"miss, are you feeling okay? you look flushed."

his voice asked and you felt your face redden further.

"y-yeah i am haha...don't worry about it."

you say awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck. he smiles at you, dark deep-set eyes filling with a look that made your knees all shaky.

"i see...okay then i'll be going now. call me if you need anything, okay?"

you nodded and he began walking away, leaving you fumbling with the pounding in your chest. 3 of the hottest waiters in Tooters practically knew you enough to hang around your table and joke around with you. wow. you must've been coming here too often, huh? you sighed and began digging into your meal, relishing in the bursts of flavour. the wings were extra crispy and succulent maybe you should have lunch somewhere else tomorrow, you thought quietly. you sipped on your soda and your face lightened up. you've never liked soda but this one? you can get behind. as always, Leon was spot-on with his suggestions. could you really eat lunch at another place when this is literal perfection?

so as the months passed, you became sort of friends with the three servers who strangely seemed to take your order and everything whenever you came for lunch. there were plenty of other servers but maybe it was just sheer coincidence. not that you minded. you even got close enough for them to sit with you on the diner's emptier days, exchanging small talk and whatnot. that was how you were currently in the situation of being convinced to participate in the Tooters' Regular Roulette.

"what even is that?"

you asked them, brows slightly furrowed as you munched on the chips on your plate. Carlos leaned back in the seat and stretched lazily.

"it's a little thing where regulars who participate get randomly selected for a special surprise, sweetheart."

he says. his long muscular arm was stretched over your shoulders comfortably, fingers ghosting where your sleeves ended and your skin began. usually, this is when the manager would be called but you felt comfortable with Carlos.

"hmmm, what's the surprise?"

you ask him which makes him almost snort.

"if i told you then it wouldn't be a surprise now, would it, sweetheart?"

you groaned which made him grin wider.

"then why would you even tell me about this?"

you whined jokingly. the seat on the other side of you dipped.

"is he bothering you, doll?"

you could practically hear the smile in his tone as he spoke.

"he actually is, Leon. tell Chris for me would you?"

you said which made Carlos frown a little in mock offense. you also missed the way the curly-haired man exchanged glances with the blonde while you were in the middle.

"ooh you know i would, doll but he's right you know."

you sigh.

"seriously, Leon? you too? what's with this surprise event for regulars anyway?"

before Leon could respond, a shadow loomed over your seated figure.

"i'm sure you'd enjoy it, miss. i planned it to celebrate our very kind regulars such as yourself after all."

the rumble in his voice reverberated throughout your body, sending tingles down your spine as your body warmed.

"you're too kind, Chris but i'm one of many regulars here! surely if i gave it a miss, it wouldn't make much of a dent in the plans?"

you tried to reason. you never really liked gatherings or events of any sort but the way they exchanged glances made you feel a little nervous. it seemed to tell you that you had no way out of this.

"but you're our favourite regular. it wouldn't be the same without you, doll."

Leon said, fingers warm against the side of your face as he tucked your loose hair behind your ears in an entirely Leon fashion.

"yeah, sweetheart, and i already miss you on regular days."

Carlos said, leaning closer. his soft deep voice gusted over your ears. your heart was racing impossibly fast, at how close they all were. thankfully, you were saved by the sound of loud glass shattering. everyone's heads whipped around towards it. turns out someone had dropped their drink glass as they were eating. you sighed in relief as they began to get up to help.

"think about it okay, sweetheart?"

Carlos says before he left. not without a smooth wink thrown your way. you finally managed to heave out a sigh of relief. you felt almost lightheaded with the way your blood pressure dramatically decreased. these men were out for blood. your blood. it was definitely an ego boost to have three of the hottest men in Tooters to butter you up the way they did but 'they're just doing their jobs', you told yourself as you shovelled the rest of your lunch into your mouth.

a week later and you went to Tooters for their Regular Roulette event. you were wearing your best non-office outfit that you had managed to scavenge from your closet. you didn't go out often after work so you had no reason to overspend on clothes. you had a plain knitted sweater that hung on you perfectly along with a skirt and some cute shoes you had been waiting to wear since you first got them. when you first arrived, you realised that this was only the second time you'd been to Tooters at night. it felt strange considering how you usually went there during lunch hours.

as soon as you arrived at the door, Leon was the one assigning tables. he smiled when he saw you, eyes trailing down your figure not so subtly.

"and here i was thinking that you actually meant that whole thing about not coming to events, doll."

he says in his standard drawl, a smirk tugging on his pretty lips. you rolled your eyes, lips curving as you stifled a giggle.

"Leon i will literally make a U-turn home if you don't assign me a table."

he snorts at that.

"alright alright, no need to kick up a fuss, doll. i reserved your favourite table for you. you know, just in case you showed."

he says with a teasing lilt to his tone, gesturing towards the table near the corner where the AC was at the perfect temperature and the seats were absolutely pristine. it was your favourite seat for a reason after all. you thanked him and began walking towards it. his blue eyes were practically trained on the way your ass swayed as you walked. he let out a sigh and cleared his throat before tugging on his signature flirtatious smile to tend to the oncoming patrons.

as soon as you sat, Carlos was at your table in a second, not to your surprise.

"glad you made it, sweetheart."

you smiled at him and continued ordering a per usual. everything felt relatively normal aside from how your three favourite servers seemed to be staring at you for longer than usual. their eyes seemed to study you almost hungrily as they trailed down your skirt to your legs. you folded your legs across one another and shifted awkwardly. you must have made the right decision with this outfit.

and then finally as you nursed your glass of iced tea, Chris's voice cut through the crowded diner. it was time for Regular Roulette. they had all of the regular's names placed in a box and a wheel next to said box where there were prizes listed. your eyes scanned the panels on the wheel and saw the standard vouchers, promotion codes, blank slates, and a panel with 'T👀ter's Regular's Special'. that slate was way smaller than the rest which probably meant that it was harder to get and entailed a higher level prize. what are the chances of winning that anyway? it was so slim compared to the huge empty slates and the rest.

so you watched Chris spin the wheel, over and over. each time, a regular would win a voucher, a promotion code, or even nothing at all. at this point, you were getting a bit bored. Leon nudged Carlos upon seeing you pick at your nails quietly, iced tea long gone. Carlos's eyes widened and he went up to Chris who was in the middle of announcing a prize. you watched as Chris gave a firm nod. he reached his hand into the box and lo and behold it was your name.

their whole exchange had piqued your interest and now it was your turn to win your prize. so you sat forward in your seat, eyes trained on the way his muscles flexed as he spun the wheel with the lightest of touches.

"and for the little miss sitting over there, you have won the 'T👀ter's Regular's Special'!"

Chris announced. you felt so awkward and embarrassed when all the other regulars turned to face you. there were light claps and cheers. there were also some envious eyes from some women and men as Leon took your hand.

"miss, please follow our server into the back for your prize. thank you."

you heard Chris say as Leon whisked you towards the back. curiousity and anticipation gnawed at you but before you could turn to ask him any questions, he led you to a door labelled break room. he opened the door to reveal a jaw-dropping redecorated break room. there was a literal huge soft-looking couch and it smelled so clean. there were even snacks on the side. fully stocked. your jaw dropped. what the actual fu-

"so we redecorated it a little for the prize, doll. what do you think?"

he asks. it was only then that you realised your hand was still in his. he seemed to notice your lingering gaze but made no effort to let go. instead, he led you to the plush couch and set you down.

"your break room is amazing. my office only has like some plastic chairs, lame coffee, and-"

you trailed off as you realised how close he was. his eyes were glued to your lips.

"can i?"

he asks, tearing his eyes away from your pretty lips to meet your gaze. his hand cradled your cheek and his thumb swiped over your plush bottom lip. you blinked furiously, face feeling hot. he was getting even closer and your mind was racing. you let out a stuttered approval which was apparently the only thing he needed before he pressed his lips onto yours. you kissed him back, heart pounding out of your chest.

“looks like Kennedy’s got a head start with our special regular of the day, huh?”

Carlos’s voice caused you to jump back from the kiss. you saw how swollen and pretty Leon’s lips were as he looked at you through a half-lidded blue gaze. his beauty never failed to make your breath hitch. and then you looked at Carlos whose dark eyes seemed even darker as he looked at you.

“where’s my kiss, sweetheart? surely, you meant to share?”

he teased leaning in closer, his warm and rough palms cupped your face and he kissed you deeply, tongue swiping across your bottom lip as he deepened it. you felt Leon’s hands caress your waist from behind, lips peppering kisses to your neck. you moaned against Carlos’s expert kiss. you felt Leon’s hands trailing up your sides, fingers brushing against the side of your chest.

“tap your hand on my thigh if this is okay, doll.”

he whispers against the shell of your ear. his stubble prickled against the smooth expanse of your skin making you gasp against Carlos’ relentless kiss. you tapped your hand on Leon’s firm bare and muscular thigh. he smirked against your neck and his hands snuck beneath your knitted top. you felt him undo your bra hooks and he lifted your top, letting the cold of the room hit your bare chest.

Carlos’s kiss paused and he pulled away.

“shit…sweetheart. you’ve got the prettiest tits i’ve ever seen and trust me, i’ve been shown a lot.”

he says, hands reaching to flick at your cold hardened nipples as Leon continues to knead your flesh. you moaned softly, head tilted back and leaning against Leon as Carlos kneeled and took a nipple into his mouth. the feeling of the warm wetness on your nipple made you sigh, hands reaching out to tug into his mop of curls. the room began to feel warmer as your tits were continuously suckled, flicked, and kneaded by the two men. and then through your haze of contentment, you saw the door to the break room open. you froze, eyes widening. Chris stood there, arms folded across his chest.

“you couldn’t have waited for me to finish up the roulette?”

he asked in his deep authoritative voice. he sounded almost annoyed but the way his eyes darkened and zoned into your writhing form was enough to show his true feelings. he wanted you. badly.

and that was how you ended up in Chris’ lap, lips locked onto his as his tongue swirled around yours and slipped down your throat. his one free hand lifted one of your legs up, socked foot dangling similarly to the other leg that Carlos was holding up as he sucked and bit at your chest, marking you up. Leon was kneeling in between your spread legs, nose bumping against your clit bump through your panties. his tongue traced the outline of your soaked pussy. his eyes were fixed on yours as he licked you over and over. you mewled softly against Chris’ lips and your hands felt aimless. Leon grabbed your hand and placed it on his hair before he slipped aside your panties and began licking you bare.

your fingers tightened on his hair as he continued to lick and finger you, his other hand pressed against your womb. his tongue licked broad stripes down to your puckered ass. you squealed, jerking back away from his mouth. or at least attempting to but he held you in place.

“let me prep you well, doll. you’re gonna need it.”

he says, voice reverberating against your pussy which made your grip on his hair tighten as you let out a muffled gasp against Chris’ kiss. he continued to tongue and finger you open. the feeling of his fingers thrusting into your pussy and ass at the same time was overwhelming. and the fact that your whole body felt stimulated was not helping at all. your breathing began to grow quicker and your chest heaved.

“mmf- m'gonna-”

you whined and he pulled away for a moment, a strand of slick stretching with him.

“cum for me, doll. let me taste you.”

he says with his blown pupils gazing at you. he dove back in and you came. hard. your finger clenched and tugged at his roots while the other hand was held in Chris’ huge ones. your body jerked as he continued licking you and sucking your clit through your orgasm, seemingly uncaring of the sensitivity that struck you in jolts as your legs twitched.

and then, they began to strip and your eyes widened at the variety of cocks laid out for you.

“like what you’re seeing, miss? we see the way you eye us whenever we serve you”

Chris teased, hand wrapped around his huge cock as he pumped it a few times. your mouth watered.

“since Leon’s already tongued you so well, are you ready for your real prize, sweetheart?”

Carlos asked, grinning wolfishly with his blown pupils almost glinting. you could only nod, head turned to literal mush at the prospect of taking all the three men at once. the positioned you in such a way where Chris was laid down with you straddling him on all fours, Leon’s tip was pressed against your ass, and Carlos was sitting heavy on your tongue.

“you’re so cute, miss, can i put it in?”

Chris grunted with effort as he rubbed his huge tip over your folds, slit catching at your clit. you moaned against Carlos’s dick which made him groan softly. as soon as you gave him the greenlight, Chris began to slip in. inch by inch you feel yourself getting stretched impossibly bigger. you whimpered and your nails pressed into his pecs, littering the light patch of hair with mini red crescents.

“s’too big. m’gonna split.”

you huffed, tears burning in the corner of your eyes and your words muffled by Carlos’ length continuously pistoning into your mouth. Chris’s hands were almost bruising as he held onto your waist and sunk you down onto his fat cock. he began thrusting up into your deepest parts, dick spearing and scratching your gummy walls at a dizzying pace. you were babbling incoherently when something cool and slimy dripped onto your puckered asshole.

Leon’s fingers curled up into it, increasing in numbers as he scissored you open. his other hand was rubbing figure eights onto your puffy clit as Chris pounded into you and Carlos into your throat. and then he prodded his tip into the hole.

“you can take it right, doll? for me?”

he asks so sweetly which you nod at blankly, drool dripping down your chin. he slowly thrust into your tight asshole and you felt a fullness that made you feel like you were on the brink of either tearing into a clean half or falling down a pit of orgasm then you can never resurface from. your sounds grew louder as they thrust in unison, feeling their dicks rub each other through the thin wall separating your two holes. the textures made them more vocal as well, grunting and groaning.

you could feel your brain melting out of your ears and your senses going blank. you were pretty sure they had shifted you around effortlessly, holes taking a different dick each time. you felt the familiar coil tighten and release over and over, brain-melting even more each time. you even came so hard that you squirted onto Carlos’s abdomen, legs twitching and body trembling from the orgasm.

and then finally you were kneeled on the floor in a way that felt like you were starring in a literal porno as the main girl. your top was thrown off to the side, your skirt was coated in cum and so were your thighs, stomach, and the corners of your mouth.

Chris’s dick was pumping down your throat as your hands jerked off Leon and Carlos. the room was filled with soft hisses and moans before they came one after the other, showering your face and body with globs of their cum. Chris came down your throat with a loud groan, his thick fingers curling in your hair deliciously as you swallowed around him audibly.

he pulled out of your throat and slapped your cum coated cheeks lightly, making you giggle deliriously as you nuzzled their dicks. you were panting and coughing a little. your legs were numb and everything was aching in the best way possible. Chris whipped out a polaroid camera that had been sitting at the side table.

“miss, on the count of three, say cheese for us alright? 1…2…3…”

the flash blinded you as you grinned. he took out the picture and shook it. as you watched it, your eyelids began to droop and you blanked out.

when you woke up, you were dressed in a comfortable hoodie and sweats that smelled of one of their colognes. your body and throat and head hurt. you tried to move but something heavy was matching onto you. you tried to turn but there was another heavy wall on your other side as well. you blinked groggily and let your eyes adapt.

“morning miss, i hope you rested well and enjoyed your prize. your clothes are at the dry cleaners’, special wash for your knitted top so it doesn’t shrink.”

Chris’s voice said. you craned your neck to see him smiling by the doorway, no longer dressed in his uniform.

“thanks, Chris.”

you said hoarsely. you felt Leon’s hair tickle the shell of your ear as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

“don’t go yet, doll. you’re so comfy…”

he says in a groggy voice that would get anybody’s panties in a twist (if they hadn’t been fucked to an inch of their sanity the night before). Carlos pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, stubble tickling your skin.

“he’s right, sweetheart. stay for a bit.”

Carlos’s voice rumbled throughout your body. Chris nodded and set down a cup of hot tea for your throat on the side table. your heart warmed at their gesture. it made you wonder, was this the regular’s special or were you just a special regular? hell if you knew. but all you wanted right now was to drink some hot tea and be cuddled by the beefy men around you.

[alyhorse6]

nsfw alphabet with chris

A is for aftercare - Chris is big into cuddling. He wants to wrap you up in his arms and fall asleep with you like that. However, he would insist on carrying you to the bathroom first because you should always pee after sex!

B is for body part - His dick is big, but he’s kind of shy about it. He's worried it will hurt you (and it might - but if it did, he’d stop or insist on going slower). As for you, he likes an ass that’s smackable (aka all asses!). 

C is for cum - Chris wants his partner to cum first, but there’s a secret trick to making him cum first if you want that to happen - tell him you want him to cum inside you and it exponentially speeds things up. It’s literally a cheat code. If he did cum first (I feel like he has a somewhat longer refractory period, especially when he gets older), he would still make sure you cum. Maybe his dick is soft now and he can’t fuck you for a bit, but that means it’s the perfect time to go down on you!

D is for dirty secret -  I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again: when Chris was younger, they didn’t have the internet at home and he couldn’t just go out and rent videotapes or buy playboys because he was living with his parents growing up, so he used to jerk off to hot ladies in infomercials (and also the Sears catalog). If Flo from Progressive was around at the time, he would’ve been beating off to her. 

E is for experience - Chris does not have as much experience as you’d think. He can fuck, so you might expect that he’s experienced, but actually he’s only gotten it on with a few girls and a few guys over the years.

F is for favorite position - He thinks he likes to fuck from you behind until he’s introduced to the mating press and he becomes addicted to it. That’s not to say that you would never end up pressed face-first into the mattress because he would be into that too.

G is for goofy (serious or silly during sex) - Chris doesn’t joke around during sex, at least, not intentionally. But occasionally, something stupid will happen (ex. he’ll knock something over by accident in the heat of the moment) and you’ll end up laughing with him (or maybe a little bit at him).

H is for hair - Naturally, he is a hairy guy, but he trims - and not only down there, he also trims his chest hair.

I is for intimacy - He needs intimacy, and that’s one of the reasons that he doesn’t get around as much. He has a hard time having meaningless sex, and would rather wait to be in a relationship or at least go on a couple dates before sleeping with someone.

J is for jack off - He does it more than you'd think. But, he doesn’t always do it out of horniness. He’d do it to destress (and sometimes even out of boredom).

K is for kink - As I mentioned before, serious breeding kink. If you let him cum inside you, he’d fall in love. He’d also really like to watch you touch yourself - whether that be in person or over the phone.

L is for location - When he’s younger (STARS era), he would do it at work (in the office or in the cop car, in the supply closet). When he’s older, he would probably be less likely to do that - however, if he happened to be taking an important phone call, and you happened to be sucking him off…

M is for motivation - I think he gets angry boners. We know he can be hot-headed, and I think if he got stressed out about work/got into an argument, he would benefit highly from taking out that frustration sexually. If he came home from a rough mission, he would be all over you - kissing you, touching you, etc.

N is for no (what he wouldn't do) - I don’t think that he’d be into being submissive (or bottoming, if we’re talking about men). I think he prefers to be dominant and is 100% a top.

O is for oral - He likes giving, but loves receiving. He would be very gentle with you, always getting you a pillow for your knees or taking you to the bedroom, and he would not facefuck you - he’d let you set the pace. But, he loves looking down into your eyes while you’re going down on him. Also, he would be praising you the entire time. Telling you how you’re taking him so well, etc.

P is for pace -  He likes it slow, but deep. He would enjoy the intimacy of slower sex and he likes to savor the moment rather than getting it over with quickly.

Q is for quickie - He doesn't really like quickies. If his partner wanted one, he probably wouldn’t refuse, but if they had time to slow it down, he’d much prefer that. 

R is for risk - In terms of the risk of getting caught, he’s definitely willing to push some limits. When he’s younger and his sex drive is higher, he’d be down to fuck wherever and whenever (the office, the car, the bar bathroom, the park, etc). When he’s older, if you asked him hypothetically if he’s into semi-public sex, he’d say no. But, if you get him all hot and bothered, especially while he’s driving, he’d be like “if you don’t stop that I’m going to pull over” because he can’t focus otherwise. 

S is for stamina - He has high stamina. That man has been smoking cigarettes for decades and can still run with ease? He can fuck!

T is for toys - He probably wouldn't own toys because he just wouldn’t think to? He’d be like “my hand works, so if it ain’t broke don’t fix it” in terms of self-pleasure, but if you asked to bring a vibrator into the bedroom, he’d be down for it.

U is for unfair (how much he teases) - Teases until you beg him to stop. Wants to make you get all whiny before he actually fucks you. He would make you sit in his lap and grind on him or he might finger you.

V is for volume - He’s pretty quiet for the most part. Would definitely swear but wouldn’t moan super loudly. When he gets close, though, he probably says things (that are super hot) without even thinking, like he doesn’t dirty talk on purpose, but he loses himself in the moment and ends up doing it. 

W is for wild card (random headcanon) - Wants to tie you up (either tying you to the headboard or having you sit with your arms tied behind your back). Also, he’s a headboard grabber (and a headboard breaker).

X is for x-ray (what's he packin') - Big dick. That’s all I need to say. Statistically speaking, since he’s American, he’s probably circumcised. 

Y is for yearning - He’s kinda sappy so if he has a partner, he does miss them. In many ways. Another reason for him to have phone sex.

Z is for zzz - He will not fall asleep until you fall asleep. Due to his trauma, I honestly think he probably has trouble sleeping in general.

[alyhorse6]

Realizations

Dad!Simon Ghost Riley x Wife!Reader

Thank you guys so much for 1k, it means the whole world for me because now once did I expect to ever have my page grown this big and not once had I imagined that I would make these many friends here who happened to be so sweet. Also to @connorsui who has been most definitely been waiting the answer to this.

So in honor of 1k, I wrote this long awaited backstory for Ghost and Lovie (Ghostie's parents) that I hope you guys will enjoy since it so happens that our beloved @ave661 has posted another Dad!Ghost render. (Credits to her again for the renders in this post <3) (Sweetie, I love you but that tag on Soap with this render was unnecessary 😭🫶)

To the people who congratulated me, through replies, likes and reblogs, I owe y'all a fat kiss. Mwahhh <333

My CoD Masterlist

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @cutenote @connorsui @capuccino192 @thesnowurzikdjinn @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @trepaika @starryylies @demidemon09

Warnings/Disclaimers: Stalking (not by Simon), Typical mentions of CoD violence?, Mentions of Simon's past abuse, Creepy guy?? (Not Simon), Mentions of violent and a bit gory descriptions on what wanted to do to the stalker, This is not proofread yet.

With the words of my mother and in true reputation style, Are you ready for it?

I think I need to say this on my account again, English is NOT my first language and all copyrights regarding the plot and some characters within the storyline belong to me. Edit: please help me y'all, I'm losing so much relevance in the span of less than a month, my recent works have gotten nothing and I'm scared that this post proves that. I think I've learned my lesson never to take breaks ever again 😭

Simon never imagined himself in this predicament, always thinking that he'd be out there somewhere, more likely drowning himself in a mission. Not even a home, he thought that if it hadn't for your persuasiveness to interact with him back then then he'd still be back in that shitty apartment complex.

Simon placed his duffle bag on the wood of the porch, the jingling of his keys while he looked for the correct one. He tried his best to make as little noise as possible, it was passed midnight, the last thing he would want was to disturb his wife and daughter from resting.

Hauling the duffle bag in and throwing it on the couch, Simon opt to see what his girls were up to. The giggling and commotion making him smile, you both were supposed to be asleep by now but you were unable to put her to rest because she's just too hyper, so that left you to entertain her by tossing her up and catching her.

"Dada..!" A squeal from the room came, the little one snapping her head to the opening of the door making you look as well, Simon took a peek from the half-way opened door.

Adorable little thing clapping her hands together, pleased that her dad is home while sitting on her mom. She got off, crawling near the edge of the bed with no sense of danger, fortunate for her that her dad is quick with catching her before you could.

You took a deep breath from the shock, looking at your husband and smiling sweetly at him. He asked you not to get off the bed as you were about to, laying next to you he snakes his arm underneath you on your waist and pulls you in.

"I missed my girls.." He said, voice deep and laced with exhaustion, despite that his hold and gaze was the warmest it could be.

"We missed you too Si, so much." You mumbled as your eyes flutter shut to enjoy his touch. You opened them to the sound of a kiss, he kissed the little one's forehead then yours.

Sometimes you vaguely remember the first time he and you met, how it even came to be, this life of domesticity. You, him and your little girl, family is a heavy word for Simon but it was just perfect. This was the family he wanted, the family that he thought he didn't deserve and never would have.

The feeling of coming home to all this started because you were so forgetful, who knew that would be the skill that brought you to him..?

• ──── ✦ ──── •

He emptied his pockets, to the lieutenant's dismay, the box of cigarettes only had one stick left. Since he was going out to smoke it anyway, he might as well get another box from the convenience store nearby. He took his keys from the kitchen counter and headed out, hearing a little commotion that peeked his interest.

Simon never paid much mind to whatever was going on within his apartment building despite the many gossips that were present within the building and the renters. So it happens that the old lady next to his place mentions how they'll be a new tenant in the other apartment next to his.

'Thank God' Simon thought, not that he was particularly religious but he'd been hoping for the longest time for the former renter to leave because let's be honest, who wants to live next to a frat boy with no sense of shame or consideration given that walls are thin? Little did he know he'd be blessed with the next one..

"Oh- I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to.." Simon hears a voice from a little below him, he'd only register what had happened after the fact. Poor girl carrying this box bumped into him a little too hard, so much so that she stumbled back a bit.

You stared up to the 6'4 man blinking, he only shrugged it off to which you smiled to. You tried to make small talk since you were new and it wouldn't hurt to at least know one person right? After all, you were trying to step out a bit of your comfort zone.

"Hi.. I'm [Name].." He only stared at you for a while and replied, "Simon.." you gave him a warm smile before nodding and continuing to bring the boxes into your new apartment while your new neighbor entered the elevator.

You cut the boxes open to start unpacking, a few minutes in and you decided to go on a short break, you rummaged through the small box of food only to find that the recently bought box of tea was empty. You sighed at this, humming as you remembered the convenience store you passed by earlier on the way to the apartment.

Taking your keys and locking the door behind you, you made your way out the complex and walked a few blocks, you only started to notice how late it was with the streetlights coming on even though the sun is only about to set. That's something to get used to, hmm?

The cool breeze hits your skin as you enter, scent of faint instant coffee and many other kinds of foods and products made themselves known. You walked around for a while, checking on what other things you might need but then you tried to remind yourself that you were saving up and on a budget so you took a box of tea and walked up to the register.

You heard footsteps behind you falling in line, after placing the box on the counter, you searched your pockets for your wallet.

'Shit..!' you cursed yourself out mentally trying not to panic as Simon basically watches you frantically patting your pockets, you left your wallet back at the apartment. "You left your wallet-" Simon stated the obvious, "I'll cover it.." there wasn't even a time to argue with him, he just stepped next to you and placed the pack of cigarettes.

"I'll pay you back as soon as we get back to the apartment" You insisted to which Simon only shrugged and declined, it's just a box of tea and it's not like it'll make him go bankrupt, besides he liked your taste, the one you got happened to be his favorite brand.

Since you were headed in the same place anyway, you and Simon walked back together side by side, however one thing you did find odd was when he gently took you wrist and pulled you inward next to him, he was the one now closest to the road.

The walk back was silent, a comfortable silence. A few days after that encounter, you made sure to make an effort for him to know that you appreciated his gesture back at the convenience store. The lieutenant was alarmed by the knock on his door, opening it to find no person but a tupperware filled with buttery shortbread cookies.

He smiled at how tiny the plastic container looked in his hands, how he noticed the note attached "Thanks for the tea, this isn't that special but I hope you like it -[Name]" and the Sanrio themed stickers stuck onto the lid and on the top part of the tiny note. You ran out of sticky notes..

Simon found himself snacking on those cookies later on, oddly enough, they reminded him of his mom.. how she used to love baking back then, it was her way of escape whenever Simon's "father" wasn't home, as well as gardening.

For the first time in a while Simon "Ghost" Riley let out a smile that wasn't smug or a smirk but a genuine smile, one that had warmth to it, one that no matter how hard his mind tried to surppress it, his body refused to.

It didn't take long for you and Simon to get to know each other a bit, little by little it seemed like you two were becoming like friends rather than just neighbors. Let's be honest, who just randomly gives their neighbors weekly baked goods for the sole reason of "just because they wanted to"?

You found yourself always looking forward to the Friday nights chilling with him at the rooftop, mugs with hot tea on hand while he smoked and you read.

Listening to his stupid jokes and remarks that slowly turn into deep conversations and life things. Simon was just... far more open than he's ever been, sure he's talked about his day before to his comrades but never like this, not in a way where he's pouring his heart out, letting you in on how he feels about certain things.

He just got back from a mission, a rough one to be exact. Shoulders slumped from exhaustion as he walked the streets near the apartment complex, no space for his bike so he had to leave it somewhere private while he fidgeted with it's keys.

Simon swore that he almost jumped out of his own body, first instinct being to push you off but he recognized you. He gave you a questioning look, hands were shaking as you so desperately linked you arm around his.

"Hmm?" He hummed, hearing you mumbling something but it was incoherent to his ears.

"Behind us.. please Si, help..." Come to think if it, you never knew when Simon turned into Si. Best believe he knew and still remembers when perfectly.. not the time, there's a serious threat, he didn't look. He didn't need to, guessing by the heavy footsteps, some creep decided to follow you at this hour.

He slowly slipped his arm away from your grip and snaked it around your waist, pulling you in closer to his side while the two of you continued treading closer to the complex. You closed your eyes for a few seconds at a time hoping it would end.

• ──── ✦ A few days later ✦ ──── •

Knocking, frantic knocking was what Simon heard at his door. He wasn't expecting anyone, so why the sudden visit? He opened the door and saw you, Simon knew something was off from the look on your face, you looked pale as if you were sick to your stomach while trying so desperately to catch your breath.

"Can I please come in.. Simon..?" You asked in between breaths. You looked around you, especially behind you, body shivering a bit. He took notice of this and had no hesitation, he pulled you in by your arm. His grip firm but gentle, Simon closed the door behind him.

"Remember that guy who was creeping around when I asked for your help..?" You tried to explain but Simon already knew the moment your mouth opened. You had a stalker.. it was best to call the cops on shit like this.

Simon did his best even though not knowing much about how to comfort someone, he did well in making you feel safe without having to tell you that he'll do so, you just know it in your gut that he'd protect you even if it's just now.

Your breath picked up, slowly backing away from the door as you heard footsteps, clenching your fists and hoping that he didn't see you enter Simon's door. Simon wrapped his arms around you, keeping you in place and from further backing away from the door.

You felt his palm drag up and down your back, it was extremely warm, it stopped for a while. His arm wrapped around your waist, other hand in your hair pushing your head down a bit so it was buried in his chest while you gripped his shirt. Simon felt your trembling body against him slowly relax.

"Deep breaths, angel.." The nickname he whispered would've made you smile under any other circumstance but not right now, you needed to calm your nerves before you panic and make an impulsive decision that could hurt yourself. Like instructed, you followed along Simon's demonstration, pressing his forehead onto yours maybe just a bit too intimately.

You winced at the loud sound of banging on the door, you knew it too well. Simon shoved the handle of his combat knife in your hand, he told you that if anything were to happen, protect yourself with it.

As soon as the Lieutenant swung the door open, you could hear punches, things knocking over and among other things, your stalker's voice.

You'd never forget that, how pitchy it was. Nails on the chalkboard was the best way to describe it, how the man was cackling almost made you annoyed. Simon called on security and the man was dealt with, you came out from hiding and saw both fear and anger in Simon's eyes.

You would never know how much he wanted to tear that man's heart after skinning him alive for even bringing fear into your eyes.

Simon "I care too much for someone I just met" Riley finally saw how his knuckles and fingernails were caked with blood, went off to go wash it and himself.

Getting back to you after half an hour, you reached out for him only for him to withdraw, you looked at him confused and he looks at you with pure guilt..

Your eyes widened in realization, "Oh Simon.. I'm not scared.." you smiled at him. He reached out a shaky hand to you, hesitating before closing his hand back.

You took his hand in yours, bringing it up to your lips and giving it a small kiss, hoping it calms his nerves. Well it did the opposite, it even more overwhelming for him having you kiss his palm while you look up at him, watching you nudge your face into his palm so invitingly.

The way your lashes just sat perfectly atop your cheeks while you slowly blinked up at him. Pressing the same scarred and calloused hands that almost killed a man that night on your face and rubbing the back with you thumb.

Simon had never felt that much guilt before for hurting someone, only after he saw the look in your eyes, which in turn were not something he caused. For the first time in his life too, Simon was comforted by something or rather someone immensely..

[alyhorse6]

I’ll See You Sunday

AN: I promise I’m working on any requests I have rn, but this hit me and I needed to get it down. This fic was 100% inspired by the fanart above by @lightsintheskye 🫡

AU Context/synopsis: Annette and William are both renowned medical professionals. Annette is a cardiothoracic surgeon, William is a cancer researcher, Wesker is still the captain of S.T.A.R.S. (except he's loyal and doesn't have ill intentions), and Y/n is a S.T.A.R.S. Alpha Team Member. Y/n and Wesker are particularly close. One night Annette & William have a highly honored banquet/award ceremony to attend and need someone to look over little Sherry for the evening. Surely Uncle Albert would be willing to help them out…

Warnings: These characters are nothing like their in-game personalities, but it’s my AU and I do what I want, intense fluff🤧

————————————————————————

It was around 3:30 in the afternoon when Wesker received a text from his stepbrother William asking him if he would be available to watch his niece. He didn’t open the message at first, instead, he panicked and texted one of his closest friends for help.

•*•*•*•

Are you available tonight?: Wesker

Y/n: Yeah… why?

I have an emergency: Wesker

Y/n: What happened?

William asked me to babysit Sherry, but I have no clue what to do with a kid: Wesker

Y/n: Albert Wesker. Are you kidding me.

What??: Wesker

Y/n: You said an emergency!

This is an emergency!: Wesker

Y/n: Whatever. What do you need me for?

I need you to come help me :): Wesker

Y/n: Aye aye, Captain🫡

Don’t mock me😑: Wesker

•*•*•*•

After speaking with Y/n, Wesker agreed to do it. William instructed him to arrive no later than 5:30, giving Wesker only 20 minutes to fly across town from the Police Station to the Birkins’ penthouse. In all honesty, Wesker dreaded this whole experience. It had nothing to do with Sherry, she was an angel, but something told him that it would be a long night.

He made it to the complex at 5:25 pm, relieved that he hadn't encountered any traffic police on his route. To meet his deadline, he drove at 35 miles per hour, which was 10 miles above the speed limit, through the bustling and chaotic streets of Raccoon City. In a hurry, Wesker dashed through the opulent lobby and made a beeline for the elevators, frantically hitting the up button. As soon as the elevator chimed, he strode in, elated to find it empty. He punched the button for the top floor, relaxed his body, and leaned against the back wall. Gradually, the elevator began its smooth ascent to the desired floor. The elevator came to a stop with a low hum, and the number "35" glowed brightly in the top right corner on a small screen. Wesker stepped out of the elevator and found himself in the entry room of the penthouse.

•*•*•*•

When do you think you'll be here?: Wesker

Y/n: I should be at the complex in ten

I'll see you when you get here: Wesker

•*•*•*•

Wesker waltzed up to the elaborate double doors that led into the home. He breathed in and held it as he knocked firmly, desperate to just get in and get his step-brother and his wife out and on their way to their banquet.

William greeted Albert with a warm smile as he answered the door, "Hey there, Albert! It's great to see you again!"

Wesker forced a smile, deeply unappreciative of the use of his first name, “Hey Will.”

Will leaned in to whisper, “Annette has been freaking out over this whole thing. I don't know if she’s more worried about leaving Sherry for this long or the event in general. This will be the longest we've left Sherry since she was born, but it’s been four months, it's gotta happen sometime.”

“I've got this Will, don’t worry. Plus I'll have help.” Wesker smirked

William narrowed his eyes, “Help? Who've you wrangled into helping you this time?”

“This time?? You say it like I never do anything on my own.” Wesker griped

“Just tell me who it is.” William huffed

Wesker rolled his eyes, “I asked Y/n to help me out.”

“Y/n? Is that the chic from S.T.A.R.S. that you’ve got a crush on?” William snickered

Wesker responded, but not without his jaw dropping slightly, “I do not have a crush on her! Crushes are for kids, which I am not.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever you wanna tell yourself,” William smirked

William eventually moved aside and allowed Wesker to enter. As they walked through the front doors, they found themselves in the luxurious living room that could have easily been featured in an exclusive millionaire's catalog. Wesker’s basic apartment looked like a shack compared to this singular room. He'd been here hundreds of times, and yet it never failed to slap him across the face every time he saw it. The room was filled with pretty potted plants, glorious gold detailing, and a coat of the finest beige paint on every wall.

William and Wesker stood around for a few minutes until Annette appeared from the hallway, holding little Sherry in her arms, looking like a munchkin.

“Here she is” Annette greeted with an open-mouthed smile.

Wesker reached a hand out to Sherry, “Hey there! It’s me, Uncle Albert.” The only time Wesker willingly used his first name was with Sherry. She was a weakness.

Sherry cooed a bit and then smiled when she saw her Uncle. Wesker grinned at the little person being so happy to see him. Annette passed the baby to him, and he cradled her softly, swaying back and forth.

“You two better get out of here, your banquet starts at 6:15.” Wesker shooed

William checked his watch and sighed, “I suppose you're right.”

Annette waved Wesker and Sherry goodbye and walked out to the elevator. William quickly turned back around to get one more little jab, “Good luck with your crush Weskie!” He smirked and ran off to join his wife.

Wesker huffed and looked to Sherry, “Don't listen to your silly goose of a father, I do not have a crush.”

Wesker walked toward the living room and sat down before feeling a buzz from his pocket.

•*•*•*•

Y/n: I'm in the lobby coming towards the elevator, make sure I can get in😘

Don’t you worry your pretty head: Wesker

Y/n: Awe you think I’m pretty?🥺

Definitely not.: Wesker

Y/n: And here I was thinking I’d get a date😪

•*•*•*•

About 10 minutes passed before a few soft knocks passed through the door. Wesker got up and opened it greeting Y/n with a kind smile, always unable to help but to smile with her around. Y/n smiled back and waved gently to the man, before giving a little wave and a grin to the adorable baby in his arms.

“Hello there Sherry! I’m Y/n, your Uncle’s friend!” She spoke softly

The infant giggled and smiled at the young woman in front of her. Y/n looked up to Wesker, “Has she ever laughed?? I don’t wanna steal that from her parents!”

“She has don’t worry. She was an early giggler.” Wesker soothed with a small smile. His favorite woman as caring as ever.

The two walked into the penthouse and sat down on the sofa side by side. Wesker would be a lying man if he failed to admit that being with Y/n in this type of setting made his face feel warmer, it was such a rare occasion for him to see Y/n outside of work or a work group. He wanted more of this.

The two sat and talked for a while, Sherry occasionally making sounds from Wesker’s arms, before eventually slowly starting to cry.

“Oh sweetie what’s the matter?!” Y/n fretted

Wesker handed her over to the woman. She didn’t smell, she didn’t seem sleepy, must be hungry. “Hey Wesk, could you heat up a bottle for her?” Y/n asked doe-eyed with worry

“Got it!” Already making his way to the fridge

Y/n followed behind him to the kitchen, delicately bouncing the little one on her hip. Both of the girls watched as Wesker tapped his finger on the counter waiting for the bottle warmer to ding. By now Sherry’s cries had died down some, but she still sniffled and shook in infant distress. Finally, the ding sounded through the room and Wesker removed the bottle, then tested the temperature on his hand. It passed the test so he handed it off to Y/n. She walked back over to the sofa and laid Sherry back in her arms, tipping the nub of the bottle to the baby’s mouth. Wesker joined the two and watched as Sherry started eating. Once she seemed content both Wesker and Y/n relaxed back into the cushions. Y/n faintly grinned at Sherry, while behind her Wesker happily grinned at the sight of her and his niece. Sherry stared brightly at Y/n’s face and grasped at her top, satisfied with her bottle.

Some time passed before Sherry finished. Afterward, Y/n burped her and then passed her back over to her Uncle. Wesker let her lay in his arms while the pair talked for a bit. At some point along the way Sherry got a little squirmy in his arms, so Y/n came up with an idea.

Y/n smirked mischievously at Wesker before asking, “Do they have something to play music on?”

“Yeah- why?” He eyed the young woman

“Can you turn on some Disney songs?”

Y/n asked, batting her eyelashes

Wesker handed Sherry back over to Y/n and got up to silently do as he was asked. He couldn’t bring himself to say no to any request Y/n asked of him. The music started, ‘Un Poco Loco’ from the movie Coco playing throughout the room. Y/n stood from her seat and started to bounce and slowly spin around the room while Sherry giggled. Wesker leaned on the counter and watched the two, giggling softly when Sherry slightly kicked her sock-clad feet. Y/n laughed while they danced to the music.

‘A Whole New World’ from Aladdin came on and Y/n looked over to Wesker, “Come dance with us.” A sweet smile on her face

Wesker couldn’t argue. He walked over to the pair and they swayed back and forth. Sherry stared up into her Uncle’s eyes and smiled. He smiled back at her and held her small hand as they swayed. Y/n admired Wesker as he watched his little niece. She couldn’t deny the crush that had formed on her Captain over the years working with him. He was always so kind to her, listening to her every word when they conversed, making her coffee throughout the day, and always greeting her with a smile. She couldn’t help but fall for the handsome young man when he was just so kind to her.

The song has long since changed, but the swaying continued. Over time Sherry grew sleepy, her blinking becoming slow and heavy. The two decided it was time to call it a night for the little one, carrying her to her nursery. Y/n changed Sherry’s diaper and clothes before swaddling her slowly. Wesker watched every step from over Y/n’s shoulder. It might’ve sounded weird to other people, but Wesker wanted something like this with Y/n. He wanted to spend each evening like this. He’d known the young woman for around 5 years now, and although he’d never admitted his feelings or made any moves on her, he liked her a lot. Maybe all the jokes about him crushing were true. He knew he felt differently about her, he just didn’t want to call it a crush and allow it to seem like some childish flit of life. He wanted so desperately to invite Y/n out to dinner, or the movies, or maybe even to stargaze on the outskirts of the city, but he got nervous anytime he thought about it.

Y/n slowly lowered Sherry into her crib, brushing some stray hairs out of her face once she relaxed into the mattress. She stepped out of the way and allowed Wesker to give her a small kiss on her forehead before they left the room. The two walked down the hall back out to the living room, opting to sit out on the roof to enjoy the warm evening air. They sat next to each other in the cushioned chairs and talked. They talked about work, their personal lives, anything. Eventually, it started to get a bit too windy to sit outside anymore, so they went back into the living room. They watched whatever random movie was on, but eventually, Y/n got sleepy too, her head slowly slipping down onto Wesker’s shoulder. He noticed as soon as it happened, looking down and smiling at the tired woman next to him.

They stayed like that for a good while. Peaceful, Sherry sleeping soundly in her room. Somewhere around 12:30, the hushed sound of the front door being unlocked could be heard. Annette and William quietly walked in, not wanting to wake their daughter. Annette immediately went to check on her baby girl, while William just silently smirked at his stepbrother. Wesker waved him off, and he left the two to join his wife in the nursery. Wesker sighed lowly, dreading the thought of waking Y/n up and this moment with her ending. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head softly, before quietly calling her name to wake her. The woman stirred lightly, slowly opening her eyes and looking around.

She came back to the present when she spotted Weaker and smiled gently, “Hi”

“Hi” he whispered back with a small grin

Y/n sat up slowly, stretching her arms and yawning along the way. She looked back over to Wesker, dreading the idea of getting up.

“I'll walk you to your car,” he murmured

Y/n hummed lowly, “Yes, please.”

The two stood from the sofa and walked out to the elevator. The ride down to the lobby was slow. Wesker chewed on the inside of his cheek, debating on whether he should ask Y/n out to dinner. The elevator dinged, signaling their arrival to the lobby. They walked over to the garage elevator and descended to their cars. Wesker walked Y/n to her car, he could tell she was still kind of sleepy.

“Do want me to just give you a ride home? You're sleepy and I want you to be safe,” he offered

Y/n looked over at him and blushed, “I'll be okay, thank you though.”

“Well… could I at least maybe take you to dinner? Just you and me,” he mumbled sheepishly

A smile spread on Y/n’s face as her blush grew, “I'd like that a lot”

Wesker smiled giddily, “Sunday… pick you up at 5:30?”

“It's a date!” Y/n cheered, turning to face the man next to her as they reached her car door

“It’s a date” Wesker mirrored

The two smiled at each other for a minute. Y/n speaking up first, “I suppose I better go home and get to bed…”

“You get your rest Y/n, sleep well.” Wesker agreed

Y/n smiled up at him, “You sleep too Wesk. I need you rested for our date”

Wesker grinned back at the young woman in front of him, “Bye my dear, I’ll see you Sunday.”

“Bye Wesk, I’ll see you Sunday.”

————————————————————————

AN: Should I continue this AU? And if so, if any of you guys have any name suggestions for the AU either comment them or send them in my ask box. Bye Angels!🤍

#soft albert wesker i repeat soft albert wesker #i need more soft wesker #please #resident evil x reader #resident evil wesker #resident evil #resident evil au #wesker x reader #albert wesker

[alyhorse6]

What’s your favorite soft wesker hc’s. Love the works bestie 🖤✨

omg i have a few !!

- he often falls asleep at his desk, hunched over and snoring gently, his blonde hair becoming untucked and falling over his nose. (chris and jill often tease him for this and the polaroid picture to match sees the light of day far too often)

- when he does hug someone (which is rare) he's so tall that he really pulls them in for a tight squeeze, his cheek resting on their head, and he's often smiling.

- he's actually very comforting and offers a lot of advice and helps out the new guys, as scary as he can seem, he hates to see people struggling and offers a hand with reading reports and filing them, but he'll never admit that.

- really good at making coffee, like really good. he makes the best coffee and he does so with a silent smile to himself, it was a hobby of his.

- really good with animals, especially dogs, he spends a lot of his lunch times with the k-9 unit cages, helping with maintenance and often cycles through walking them all.

- does a lot of stuff behind the scenes, taking the brunt of punishments from more senior staff members, definitely takes the fall for a lot of them.

[alyhorse6]

Is It Better To Speak or To Die? | Daryl Dixon |

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Masterlist

Summary: After being rescued from Woodbury by Rick's group, you struggle with living a "normal" life in the walls of the prison. The trauma's inflicted on you at the hands of the Govenour drag you to the deepest depths. A certain archer is the onyl one who can drag you back out.

Warnings: slow burn, language, smoking, grief, depression, talk of body scars, implied smut, implied past abuse, Governor (enough said)

Word Count: aprox. 10k

Era: Prison, Alexandria.

Song Recommendation: Cinnamon Girl - Lana Del Ray, Would That I - Hozier

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The survivors of Woodbury had called The Prison “home” for only a week. The war and downfall of the Governor and Woodbury were still fresh in everyone’s gut, though others were making themselves comfortable very quickly. You were not. It was such an irony to you. Taking shelter in a prison as if this world wasn’t a prison. As if the traumas of the past year of survival didn’t hold you by your throat. Your own mental prison.

The bowl you held still warmed your hands. Though you knew no appetite arose in your stomach, you still took the bowl Carol offered just to be polite. Standing alone, your back leaned against the support beam of the gazebo all the benches sat under for meals. You had been a part of Woodbury...but you certainly hadn’t been a part of the community. Not near the end at least.

Most people steered clear of you. Avoiding your tired hardened eyes and threatening gazes. Avoiding the tenseness in your persona. Completely removing themselves from the possibility of having an interaction with the emotionless shell you had become. Others were compassionate, showing you any empathy they could bear. You’d get a polite head nod and warm smile occasionally, though you never returned it.

In Woodbury, no one asked questions, they talked and gossiped amongst one another but never bothered. But at the prison, you were new. Fresh meat. So in turn, you had your fair share of stares and whispers from Rick’s group.

Carol had become your latest bother. In the mornings, just like today, people would slowly make their way to line up for their share of breakfast. Your desire was to simply come out in the crisp morning air and smoke a cigarette, attempting to forget the night of terrors you encountered when you closed your eyes. You’d be sure to isolate yourself a bit away so the smoke didn’t bother anyone’s morning. But Carol simply wouldn’t accept it.

The last few days she’d noticed the lack of breakfast passing your lips. You’d smoke a cigarette and then wait to eat a proper meal for dinner. Reminding her of another certain someone.

She couldn’t make you line up and wait like everyone else. She couldn’t make you come and sit at a table and be social. So, she’d make you your own bowl and walk it over to you, giving you a polite smile, and then walk away. She did this for the past 3 days, catching onto your pattern early on.

“How’s she doing?” Rick drawled as Carol handed him his own bowl of powdered eggs and steamed potatoes. “Can bring a horse to water but you can’t make ‘em drink.” Carol joked back, Rick nodded in response and thanked her for his bowl.

Rick had been keeping an eye on you ever since you’d arrived. Unlike most of Woodbury, who willingly came running out to be rescued, you were found by Rick. The door to the room he found you in had been locked from the outside.

Everything he found out about you from that point had been from the mouths of others. You hadn’t even used words to tell him your name, he had been told by someone else. “Morning.” Rick greeted Daryl who was already almost finished his own breakfast, “Mornin’.” He stood with Daryl, neither of the men having time to sit with all the plans to improve the prison.

Daryl followed Rick’s gaze, noticing the way Rick seemed to be lost in thought. When the gaze ended on you, Daryl scoffed. “Figured that one out yet?” He asked, shoving a spoon of egg in his mouth. “Not yet.” Daryl had tried himself to scramble for puzzle pieces of you but had no success. You didn’t talk. Not a word, not even a whisper. There was a part of him that was intrigued by you, a part of him that wanted to dissect. But there was the other part that told him to mind his business.

“Good morning.” Riley begins to pass by, greeting Rick and Daryl. If the term Southern Bell was a person, that would be Riley. Blonde hair, dark emerald eyes, sweet smile, curvy in all the right places, and a smooth southern drawl. Smooth and sweet, nothing like your jagged sharp edges. Riley had been brought in with the Woodbury group and quickly made herself useful in running her mouth…but also in learning medical. “Morning.” Riley’s green eyes darted in the direction the men were looking. Because how dare their attention be on anyone but her.

“I feel so bad for her…” She commented, putting herself into their conversation. Rick and Daryl both gave each other a glance. Rick wanted to know about you from you. Not from the gossip and storytelling of others. “I swear it’s like her mouth was sewn into a frown when Jackson died.” Riley actually looked quite empathetic when she said this. “Who was that?”

“Her twin brother.”

Rick took a pause from eating his breakfast to let this new information marinate into his brain. Though neither of them asked for it, Riley continued. “When they first got to Woodbury, everything was fine. But then the Governor wanted Y/n to be one of his soldiers.” Using air quotations at the word soldiers.

“Y/n refused over and over. One night, Governor took Y/n and Jackson for a walk outside of Woodbury’s walls, and Jackson didn’t come back…Governor said he got bit but…” Riley’s words trailed off as she looked at your stone-like features. “Y/n joined him after that…some people thought he killed Jackson and used it to force her to.” Her tone was uneasy as if the Governor would come to get her if she dared speak of it.

Or maybe she was more afraid of you.

“After that, I mean..” Riley scoffed dramatically and tried to ease the tension with a laugh, “I-I shouldn’t be talking about this anyway.” She gave the men a sheepish smile before swiftly walking away, joining a full table.

"Forgot how much people love to gossip huh?"

"Hmm," Daryl hummed in response. Rick took Daryl's empty bowl and stacked it on his own. "Gonna go give Judy her breakfast, alright?" As he nudged Daryl with his elbow, Daryl responded with a hum that was accompanied by a nod.

Daryl had learned the art of minding his business a long time ago. He didn't want people in his...so why pry into others?

You had finished your cigarette and smushed it into the concert under your boot, now aimlessly poking around in the texture of the oatmeal. Carol frequently cooked her oatmeal for a tad too long and with too much liquid, giving it a mushy, snot like texture. It gave you another reason to skip out on breakfast. But you at least wanted to try.

Daryl’s watched as you took a bite from the bowl. You moved around the food in your mouth, chewing slowly. The texture on your tongue was enough to turn you away. You looked in the direction of the bench where all of the younger children sat. Some talking with food still in their mouths. Their chattering stopped when they saw you approach like a dark gloomy cloud threatening rain.

Without saying a word, you placed your bowl in front of Patrick, offering him your share. Behind his thick glasses, he looked at the bowl then at you, and smiled. “Thanks Y/n.” You replied with a nod and walked away. Patrick was one of the few people from Woodbury who was consistently kind to you. He was always polite and never treated you any differently. You had actually heard him defend your name more than once. Perhaps he was just too young to feed into it but it was an act that didn’t go unappreciated by you.

And your act towards Patrick hadn’t gone unnoticed by Daryl. It wasn’t as if you had saved his life but you could’ve thrown your share away. Snuck over to the pig's pen and scraped it in. Instead, you gave it to a child.

Daryl would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't intrigued by you. He had never been intrigued by anyone in his life, though he couldn't deny the itch that was the mystery of you.

Two mornings after that one, Daryl had woken up particularly early. Readying himself to go outside the fences. There was a steady whisper amongst his friends the true reason he wondered out of the safety of the prison walls. The thought of The Governor still being alive haunted Daryl’s mind as it did the others. But no one would do what he did nearly every morning. No one except you.

Not many were typically up at this hour. The sun had barely risen and the morning air was still chilly from the night. When Daryl walked out into the courtyard, he didn’t expect to see you. He knew you were typically up earlier than others but not as early as him, not on days like this. You sat on the top of a picnic bench, feet planted where someone would typically sit. You faced away from Daryl but he could see the puff of smoke that typically followed you.

He could tell you weren’t in your typical nature. Despite the circumstances, you typically kept yourself put together. You wore a black long-sleeve fitted to your body and a pair of old gray sweatpants. Your hair was untamed and frizzy, having not been brushed yet. What had you up this early? What had you out of your cell so disheveled? And obviously, in such a rush?

The drag of the cigarette burned the back of your throat. It wasn’t as if you actually enjoyed smoking them. They tasted bad, itched your throat, and the smoke made your eyes water. But it felt as if holding them stopped your hands from shaking so badly every morning. It didn’t. But you’d keep lying to yourself and saying it did. You had woken up from another devilish dream, jolting you awake with a rapid heart and heavy breathing.

Typically you’d sit on the edge of your bed, head in your hands until your heart rate returned to normal. But on this particular morning, you couldn’t sit any longer in those walls, feeling the tightness of their build.

“Mornin.” He greeted you. What was he doing? Why was he even over here? Daryl’s mind ran with thoughts and questions as he awkwardly disrupted your own running mind.

You glanced over at him, your eyebrows furrowing with confusion. Someone disrupting you at this time wasn’t expected. As soon as Daryl saw the harsh glare hit your features, he regretted his decision. He didn’t know what to say to you or what he was doing. Both of your heads turned at the sound of a door shutting, Carol lugging a big pot over to the serving table.

“Carol’s gonna start setting up soon…if ya wanna get outta here.” Your eyes followed Carol for a second before meeting Daryl’s.

Daryl had never seen you face to face, he’d never even spoken a word to you. Your initial glare wore off your face and you gave Daryl a single nod, standing up from the bench. Daryl caught his bottom lip and nervously chewed at it. “M’going…out” Daryl pointed in the direction of the woods, “If ya wanna come.” You glanced between Daryl and the woods and thought for a second before giving him a proper nod.

“Alright. I’ll wait for ya at the gate with my bike.”

It didn’t take long for you to meet Daryl. You’d switched your pants out with jeans and your bare feet with boots. Accompanied with your backpack and a pair of fingerless gloves to fight the chilly morning. You had obviously run a comb through your hair as well.

Daryl appreciated the space you gave him on the bike. You sat an inch or two back, your arms loose around him. Typically when people rode with him they held on tight, maybe a little too tight and too close for Daryl’s comfort, but you didn’t. A steady routine had been built between you and the archer after that morning. Along with a growing friendship.

Carol had picked up on this growing routine. By the fourth day, she began waking up even earlier, packing both of you lunches and a snack as if she were a mother sending her children to school.

The first few days your silence made Daryl uneasy. But soon, he actually began to enjoy your company. He even enjoyed your silence. It came in handy when he was tracking a deer or bunny.

The two of you had created your own language of looks, touches, and whistles. One morning you had gotten separated from Daryl while tracking and the song of the whistle was born.

The once colorful leaves were now a dirty brown and crunched awfully loud when you stepped on them. The early Fall months were slowly becoming even colder which meant being on the lookout for anything edible became far more important. Especially meat. Daryl had begun to teach you how to track on your own, which meant the two of you could cover more ground on the same hunt.

Your footsteps were steady and quiet, your eyes trained on the consistent tussle of the leaves. There was a specific herd of deer that had been on Daryl’s radar that he’d spotted a few mornings ago. Daryl walked a few feet behind you, checking that the tracks you eyed were accurate.

The leaves began to blend together, and the steady path you found was now lost from your sight. You kneeled down and dug the leaves away from the ground hoping the tracks would be embedded in the dirt. But the ground was too cold and dense to be marked with anything. It was when you turned to face Daryl and accept your defeat that he was no longer there.

A sense of panic seized through you. Your eyes scanned around the surrounding tree lines for a sign of his silhouette but you saw none. You’re fine, you told yourself, but the comfort Daryl’s presence provided was now gone and you were beginning to spiral. You didn’t know these woods well and you didn’t know your way back to the prison from here.

Out of sheer desperation, you brought your lips together and let out a two-tone whistle. You gave it a second of silence and just as you were about to repeat, a long one-tone whistle replied back. Daryl quickly came back through an opening in the trees looking as if he had run back to you. His eyes were filled with panic. “Ya alright?” You nodded, seeing him again immediately put you at ease. “M’sorry. Found the tracks, they go off this way.”

Daryl spent a lot of time studying you. It wasn’t intentional…but he couldn’t help but pay attention to every detail. He knew when something was on your mind by the way you dazed off more or the more cigarettes you smoked. Or the way you fiddled with the sleeves of your shirts and jackets. He understood the different expressions on your face and what every one of them meant. You expressed yourself a lot through your eyebrows and eyes. No matter what expression, your eyes were always filled with such sadness. You never smiled. Even on days when Daryl felt good and felt as if he was going to have some major breakthrough, you never did.

Daryl enjoyed what he’d built with you over these last few months but his mind and body were becoming restless. He yearned for you, he yearned to know you. It was like being covered head to toe in mosquito bites. And then someone tying your hands so you’d never be able to scratch them. He wanted to hear your voice and he wanted to see you smile. He told himself that if he ever got to hear you laugh, he’d start praying and going to the prison chapel.

He realized he’d never even seen your teeth before, though it was an odd thought, it would be added to the pile of things that itched and irritated.

Then there were the other thoughts. The bites that itched but also ached and throbbed. He wanted you to sit closer to him on the bike and he wanted your arms tight around his torso. He wanted to hold your hands and stop them from shaking in the morning. He wanted to keep you close after running away from a hoard.

Daryl had spent his time dissecting you like a frog in science class.

Now, he had grown impatient of dissecting. He’d never wanted anyone how desperately he wanted you. You were his sweet tooth craving, you were his stomach-decaying hunger, and you were his fucking mosquito bite. But despite all of Daryls itches and desires, he'd never try to change you. He'd never push you out of the comfort of your silence though he would always be waiting.

The time spent with Daryl had put a piece of you at ease. You’d had grown a special attachment while Daryl had practically sewn you to his hip. The only time you weren’t with him was when it came time to shower or sleep.

You met Daryl every morning at the gate, ready to go wandering amongst the trees or scavenging. Some day's you made it back in time to catch lunch together. Especially if you had an early morning catch and had to get back before the meat went rancid. Most days, you'd find a quiet and safe spot to eat the lunch Carol packed and made it back to the prison before sunset and dinner.

There was peace in this routine...but you couldn't live in this routine forever. There were other duties that needed attention around the prison. The early morning adventures had become less but the time together never changed.

When you weren't enjoying the company of Daryl, you enjoyed the company of the garden. And when it was too late in the day for either of those things, you read books about the garden. You learned what crops could be grown in the winter and then looked for their seeds in old gardening stores...with Daryl.

Some, Most, Every night you thought of him. You thought of all the things he'd taught you, of his patience with you, and all the stories he told to fill the air. He'd tell you stories of him and Merle. You wanted to tell him that you knew Merle. That when the Governor locked you away, Merle would come visit you and sneak you food. That he was kind to you despite being such a prick to everyone else.

But no matter how much time and peace Daryl provided, the nightmares never left you. You still woke up with shaky hands and a racing mind and memories of your brother. Although you did cut the habit of reaching for a cigarette. Mainly because your pack was running low and it was becoming impossible to find any more.

Unknowing to you, Daryl had been finding them while scavenging and hiding them in spots you didn't look.

You grabbed the carrot at its very base and pulled it from the soft dirt, a soft snap following. The gloves that kept your fingers from freezing were covered in mud and bits of green. It had rained in the night which made the ground perfectly soft to harvest produce. So, instead of going out this morning, you and Daryl were in the gardens. Well, Daryl followed you to the gardens and wouldn't leave.

"This one alright?" Daryl held up a cabbage with his own gloved hand only a few feet away. You glanced over and gave him a approving nod. He tossed it into the basket that already held a mixture of carrots, celery, and fresh herbs for Carol's cabbage soup.

Carol had become less of a bother to you. In fact, you'd actually created a swift routine with her. You read and researched the books about plants and gardening while she read the ones about cooking. You were the farmer while she got to play Martha Stewart.

"How's it going you two?" Rick and Carol approached the gardens with a little extra pep in their step. The rain fall had made this winter day chillier which meant everyone was bundling up and multiple fires were lit in the courtyard and cell blocks for warmth. "S'alright!" Daryl shouted as he fought with a carrot that seemed to be deep rooted in the ground. From your kneeling position on the ground, you watched Daryl with amusement as he struggled. You would’ve thought that carrot was as big as a egg plant with all his pull and tug.

“You got it Pookie?” Carol teased, Rick and her both getting their own dose of amusement. “M’fine.” With one last pull, the carrot popped from the dirt. “Ya gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’” Daryl held up the carrot, it was about the size of his thumb. You heard Rick and Carol have their own set of laughter, “Maybe you should stick to huntin’ those deer.” Rick said between a few chuckles. Daryl scoffed and tossed the baby carrot into the basket, as he kneeled down to continue picking, he caught your expression.

It was so small he could’ve missed it but he didn’t and he was so glad he hadn’t. You looked back down towards the dirt, a smirk tugging up the corners of your lips and poking your cheeks, dimpling them. For a second, it felt as if someone had punched Daryl in the chest. But it was there just as fast as it was gone.

From that moment on, Daryl wanted nothing more than to feel that again…as did you. You felt foolish. There was this awful gnawing inside you that was telling you every day what you already knew within your heart. He was chipping away at every wall you’d built up and beginning to break down the wall to a very soft spot of you. You had begun to feel like a turtle removed from its shell. Mushy, sensitive, and vulnerable. Gross.

"Hey Y/n!" The youngest Greene girl greeted. The community of the prison had begun to warm up to you. They no longer avoided you like the plague opting to actually say "hello" or "good morning" or maybe even a "goodnight." It had become very well known the closeness Daryl and you held and if people knew, people talked.

You looked up from your current book to Beth standing in the doorway of your cell clutching a small pile of tan books to herself. "Can I..come in?" She awkwardly shuffled her feet farther in and adjusted the books, you nodded. Beth let the curtain that covered your doorway drop and happily took a seat on your bed. You sat up straight and set your book of, Wildflowers Of All Seasons, on the bed beside you. While you adjusted yourself, Beth seemed to be studying your room.

It was more decorated than she had imagined. Your cell was on the upper level, one down from Daryl's. You had a very small wooden nightstand beside your bed that had various half-melted candles. Their wax dripped down the sides and embedded itself into the wood. On the wall across from your bed stood a very slim wooden table.

It was decorated with different trinkets and bottles you'd scavenged, a zippo lighter, and a stack of your growing book collection. Shoved underneath was a wire basket that held all your clothes. Your only 2 pairs of boots and bookbag sat beside it. Your everyday black, fleece-lined jacket was hung off the pole of your bed.

"I found these in the library and thought you might like them." Beth laid out the books on your bed, making it a point to show you every single one of them. Peterson - Field Guide to... They all read. They were very small and slim, a pale shade of tan, with various illustrations on the front pertaining to the title. Perfect to slip into your bag.

"I thought they'd be nice for you to carry when you go out in the mornings." Beth watched as you examined each book, "I wanted to grab them for you before anyone else found 'em." Beth held a very innocent hopeful smile the whole time she spoke to you but your silence was causing her to become uneasy. You picked up a specific one, Field Guide to Animal Tracks. You looked up at the girl and gave her a thin-lipped smile to show your appreciation.

A wide smile formed on her face and she left with a very sweet "Goodnight."

Glenn relieved Daryl from watch tower duty later than expected. It had to of been close to midnight when he got back to his cell. As he walked by your cell, he carefully peeled back your green curtain to check on you. You were a restless sleeper, Daryl heard you almost every night tossing and turning or waking up with a jolt. He just wanted to ensure that at least right now, you were okay.

Daryl noticed the little tan book sitting on his bed as soon as he pulled back his curtain. The moonlight slightly gleamed off the sleek shiny cover. Field Guide to Animal Tracks. As Daryl flipped the book open to its title page, he felt his ears and cheeks warm up. Thankfully the darkness concealed his cheeky smile.

To Daryl. Not like you need it. - Y/n.

The group of deer that Daryl had spotted a month ago was still high on his radar. Though he still had yet to actually catch any of them.

The cabbage soup was still hot in your thermal, emitting a cloud of steam when you popped off the lid. You and Daryl sat in each other's company in your typical spot. A large tree had fallen down just at the entrance to a clearing in the woods providing a perfect resting spot. Had it been Spring or Summer you could only imagine the beauty of the green scenery. But this cold winter didn't provide much besides dry grounds, barren trees, and a frozen pond.

There was a peaceful silence that settled, as it always did. You both ate your soups and turned the pages of your books. Surprisingly, Daryl had actually learned a good bit from the book you gifted and he thoroughly enjoyed it.

"Ask ya something'?" You broke your concentration from your book and looked to Daryl. "Ya know why I started coming out here in the first place, right?"

You took a second to think before hesitantly nodding. "Ya never said anything." Daryl truly never understood why. He never hid it from you but still, you never asked questions. You didn't ask what the notes were on all the maps he had, never asked where you were going, or when you'd be back. But he always knew that you knew he wasn't just hunting deer, he was hunting the governor. "What would ya do...? If you ever got to him?"

Perhaps Daryl had pushed too far. Your head snapped back down to your book, though Daryl knew you weren't actually reading anymore. Your eyes were out of focus and your lips formed a frown. You had never taken the time to think about it. You just knew you wanted him to suffer.

Daryl hadn't spoken another word to you since lunch knowing he had poked at a very sensitive subject. "Wait here a second," Daryl said just as you made it back to his bike. He jogged back into the tree line leaving you sitting on the bike, awaiting his return. Daryl returned soon after, a cluster of bright yellow daffodils in hand. You gave him a puzzled glance but as he held out his hand and said, for you, you felt the urgency to cry. Your nose burning up with tingles and your eyes becoming glazed.

"Thought ya might like 'em, I saw them in your book earlier." Your hand gently took them from Daryl's and you stood still. Very still.

Daryl awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. "They're uh...daffodils, right? Start bloomin' late January into March?" He had secretly been sneaking reads of your books over your shoulder. It was so fast it startled him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into you, every muscle in his body stiffened. Daryl was reluctant to hug you back but he gave into his heart and gently laid his arms around your torso. The large jackets you both wore proved to be a barrier from feeling the true touch of the other.

“Thank you.” Your words were raspy and just above a whisper. Had you not been so close, Daryl probably would’ve missed them. “Course.” His words were mumbled against your shoulder, not wanting to make a big deal. A low groan in the distance disrupted your short moment of peace, telling you it was about time to go.

The sun was beginning to set when Daryl’s bike rode up the gravel path to the prison. The smell of a brewing soup hit your nose as the two of you began to walk closer to the dining area. “Find a table, I gotcha.” Daryl’s hand lingered on your shoulder for a second longer than it typically did. Despite wearing such a thick layer of clothes, it was as if you could still feel his touch. Even after he was already at the serving table striking up a conversation with Carol.

You sat your pack down at the usual table. It was farthest to the left, farthest away from all the other tables. “Mind if we join you?” Glenn asked, he and Maggie both holding a steaming bowl. Just as you were about to take your own seat, a loud chuckle sounded snapping you around.

“Oh come on Y/n.” Two men had been walking past on their way to fetch their own dinners. You recognized them, they were commonly on wall duty at Woodbury. The taller one motioned to the flowers that poked out from the front pocket of your jacket. “You can’t be serious.” You could feel your heart drop to the very pit of your stomach. It was as if your body was preparing you for the merciless mocking that was sure to come.

“You’re telling me the Governor’s number one soldier is walking around with flowers in her pockets?”

Stop.

You wanted to say but the words became a ball in your throat. Your eyes darted off to the side. All of a sudden, you didn’t know where to look or what to do with your hands or how to stand properly on your feet. “The hell are ya doin?” Daryl had practically appeared out of thin air, putting himself between you and the men. You saw this as an opportunity to make an escape for your cell block.

“We were just teasing man. We were friends in Woodbury, just joking around.” They still had slimy smirks on their faces that only poked Daryl even more.

Daryl was fuming. “Didn’t look like she was fucking laughin’.” He took a step closer. “She never fucking laughs!” Before Daryl could unleash his fiery rage, Rick intervened. Rick beckoned Daryl to walk away, mumbling that everyone was looking. “Hell if I care.” Daryl snapped swinging his arm in the air. He turned on his boot and snatched up your pack that you’d left behind before going off to find you.

Daryl hadn’t found you in any of your traditional spots. He checked your cell, the library, the garden, and even the showers. He asked everyone he walked past if they’d seen you but no one had, it was as if you just vanished. And the thought of that was throwing Daryl into a deep pit.

The prison chapel had been restored and decorated by Carol to be used for the grieving prison folk. She had put as many candles as possible on a long wooden table. They had been burned and replaced so frequently that the wax dripped down the sides of the table and dropped dots on the floor. There were many different pictures of lost family members or lovers littering the table…it was quite depressing truthfully. The glow of the candles lit up the room and cast an orange glow on your sad features.

You didn’t look at Daryl as he sat down beside you.

“Didn’t know you were religious.”

“I’m not.”

It was an odd thing…to hear you speak so openly but Daryl wasn’t opposed. “I just…” Your voice was hoarse and low, as low as a whisper. “I find this a way to be with my brother.” Daryl had gotten so used to silence that it almost startled him to hear so many words come from your lips. You shook back the hair that fell on your face and let out a deep sigh, resting your back flat against the wooden church pew. Daryl didn’t want to speak, he didn’t want to scare your voice away, he just wanted to listen.

“I hope that doesn’t sound foolish.”

“It doesn’t.” Daryl shifted himself closer to you. “It doesn’t.” He repeated, his thigh pressed against yours. And for some reason, you felt the need to spill your guts. Perhaps being in a church would drag you to confess. “I-uhmm…I never fought against the prison. I refused to do any of it. I truthfully didn’t care if he killed me for it.” You didn’t have to explain yourself to Daryl but you felt the need to. If what you felt towards him was what you thought, you had to. “But, he just locked me in my room. Wouldn’t let me out.” Somehow, Daryl knew. He never saw you with the Governor, never saw you fighting. And when Rick told him the locked room he found you in, he pieced it together.

“Everything is true though. Everything they say about me, everything he made me do before that.”

Daryl didn’t care, he never had. Daryl cared that you didn’t want to. He cared about the fact that you were forced to. You shrugged your shoulders and looked off, “I’m as guilty as they come.”

Daryl couldn’t stand the sad look on your face, “Alright then…put yer hands behind yer back. I’ll take ya to your cell.” His joking manner caught you so off guard that a laugh escaped you. It was airy and gentle. He truly couldn’t believe it.

You laughed. And Daryl was in church.

Daryl returned to his serious demeanor to reassure you, “I care about how he hurt ya, Y/n. Don’t care what you did.”

Your eyes found Daryl’s in the dimly lit room and for a second you felt it, deep within your chest. And it ached and feared but it also loved. “Good.” You couldn’t fight the smile that squeezed your cheeks as you looked at him. Your eye contact broke allowing silence to welcome itself back. But only for a short time. “Daffodils are the birth flower of March…Jackson and I were born in March.”

After that night in the chapel, Daryl wanted nothing more than to hear your voice. It felt like his ears were filled with honey every time you spoke. It was raspy yet smooth with a hint of a southern drawl from growing up in Georgia. A thick rich honey that he wanted in a cup of hot tea and to take down his throat.

Winter was soon turning to Spring. The sky was bluer and most days the sun shined. The green of the grass and trees were returning. The garden was beginning to look even more promising come warmer weather. And just as the flowers were beginning to take bloom, so were you.

Your hard demeanor had softened, especially for Daryl. You still didn’t talk to many people besides him but you said a word or two when you wanted. Daryl took it upon himself to give Jackson a “grave” where the others were. It was just two pieces of wood, formed into a cross with his name carved in it, planted into the ground. “So that ya don’t have to go down to the chapel. Ya can be outside with him and the garden and stuff.” He had said when he showed you.

“It’s rotten work trying to find these deer.” You and Daryl strolled the wooded area, eyes on the deer tracks that embedded themselves in the dirt. Daryl shushed you and continued his concentration on the tracks. You smiled to yourself and shook your head. “I was rotten work…at the beginning.”

“Nah ya weren’t, not to me.” Daryl didn’t even hesitate, he didn’t even turn look at you. He just continued walking ahead of you, following the tracks.

The two of you settled in your usual spot. Leaning against the fallen tree at the opening to the clearing in the woods. You were right about the clearing looking more beautiful in the warmth of Spring. The trees were plump with fresh green leaves and the water in the pond sparkled under the sunlight. The grass grew tall with a mixture of white and yellow wildflowers. Your fingers ran the edge of the book page as you turned it.

Your current book was, Field Guide to Medical Plants and Herbs. There was some type of cold floating around the prison and finding the medical supplies to treat it was sparse and you’d do anything you could to help.

Daryl was interrupted from tending to his bow by your elbow jabbing his side. Without looking at him, you held up a folded piece of paper and pen. Daryl gave you an odd glare before plucking them from your fingertips. You did this often. When you couldn’t be bothered to use your voice or if you didn’t want to break concentration from a book.

There’s so many things I want to say to you.

Daryl could feel his heart begin to quicken its pace within his chest. He didn’t know what your words meant but at the same time, he did.

The folded paper got tossed back into your lap.

There’s so many things I want to say to you.

So say them.

Just then, a rustling sound sounded from within the trees from across the clearing. You gripped for your blade as Daryl grabbed for his bow. Two deers came through the trees, their white and tan tails flicking back and forth. You could’ve sworn you heard Daryl stop breathing for a second. Daryl slowly leaned up on his knees, bow in hand raising to his eye. Your eye caught it before Daryl’s did.

Another deer emerged from the trees, a fawn close behind her…and then another. “Don’t.” You brought your hand to Daryl’s bow and lowered it to point at the ground. He went to protest but when he saw the twin fawns happily nibbling at the tall grass, he stopped. It was a beautiful sight, as were you.

When your eyes broke away from the deers and to him, that’s when he decided. Daryl cupped your cheek lightly and met your lips with his. His lips were gone just as fast as they were there but his hand didn’t leave. He was still so close that your lips feathered his. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pulled him down to you again.

What happened that day was never spoken of. But as Daryl sat in the darkness of the train cart in Terminus, he so deeply wish it had been.

You were gone as was the prison. The look on your face, when the Governor stood outside the prison, was burned into Daryl’s eyelids. The way your chest heaved with anger, your hands shook with rage, and revengeful teary eyes stared off. The last he saw was you slipping out through the prison fence to go after him. Daryl yelled at you to not do it, to come with him, but you didn’t listen. You’d let yourself die if it meant you finally got your hands on him and Daryl knew it.

You could be dead. You could’ve died weeks ago fighting the Governor. You could be out there alone and starving and scared. Or you could be just fine. Daryl would never know.

When Terminus fell and he watched Rick cuddle and kiss Judith in his arms, he had a surge of hope. And when he saw Carol alive, he had more hope. As everyone said hello, it was as if he waited, waiting for you to magically appear. “Nobody has Y/n?” A deafening silence followed, quieter than you ever were. “Daryl…” Michonne stepped towards him. As he went to walk away, she stopped him placing a hand on rising his chest. “Darlyl. I’m not saying she didn’t make it. I’m just saying she didn’t look good.”

“Yeah? And you didn’t help her?” Daryl snapped shoving her hand off his chest. “Get off me.” Daryl seethed with hot tears in his icy blue eyes. It became an unspoken rule to not speak your name around him.

Your hand pressed firmly on the wound that oozed blood down your side as you limped your way into the cell block. Your right side was stained in the crimson color, all the way down to the knee of your jeans. You strained and let out a groan of pain as you took a step up the stairs that led to your cell. You didn’t need to look at yourself to know you looked awful. The walkers that completely ignored your existence when you limped by them told you enough.

Your entire torso throbbed in pain. The bruising from the kicks you took to the stomach were forming and it felt impossible to move. Your head felt like tv static and you had an undying desire to sleep. But you couldn’t. You likely had a concussion and knew that if you slept now, you wouldn’t be getting back up. Besides, you had to find Daryl. There was a hope that he’d stayed in the area and you’d find him if you just looked. You knew the woods around here well, you could find him. He was waiting for you, he had to be.

In your fuzzy state of mind, you threw whatever you touched into your pack. You changed out of ruined clothes and into clean ones. When the collar of your shirt dragged down your face, you let out a whimper of pain as it got caught on your bottom lip. There was a cut that dragged from the under your left nostril, across the left corner of your lips, and ended at the bottom of your chin.

It became a blur how you left your cell safely and ended up on the path Daryl and you walked every morning. You had to get to your spot. The spot with the fallen tree and clearing. Daryl would wait for you there. You were sure of it. When you got there and he wasn’t there, it was okay, you told yourself. You just had to wait for him.

You lowered yourself to the ground, a few whimpers of pain escaping your lips. With your back resting against the tree and arm draped over your mid section, you slipped into unconscious. You awoke to the sound of a man’s voice. “Hey, hey.” He said trying to wake you but your eyelids were too heavy to lift and you felt the weight of every muscle in your body. “Heath! Go tell Laura to bring the car around. We gotta take her back.”

“It’s a ten hour drive back Aaron, you think she’s gonna make it?”

“I don’t know.”

You awoke with a slight jolt. Your chest heaved with heavy breathes as your eyes dilated to the bright and unfamiliar room. Your body ached but the softness of the mattress you laid on seemed to comfort it. “Pete, go get Deanna.” Aaron instructed, sitting up in his seat next to your bedside. Your eyes wandered the room, trying to figure out where you were. “Hey. I’m Aaron. You’re in the infirmary in a community called Alexandria.” You looked to the man that sat to your right. He had a very kind face and gentle eyes. His clothes were perfectly clean and his curly brown hair was freshly washed and fluffy.

“Myself and others were on a trip along the East Coast to look for survivors to bring here.” Aaron clarified further, “We found you and brought you back, you were in really bad shape…you still…you still kind of are.”

Aaron could see the confusion and panic drawn on your face. Your head snapped to the door when you heard footsteps on the polished wood floors. “Hi” Deanna gently said approaching your bedside. “We’ve been waiting for you to wake up. What’s your name?”

Your mouth hung open for a second, your mind still wasn’t clear, and you had no clear memory of the last three days. “Y/n” You finally replied, voice hoarse and raspy. Deanna smiled at you, “Where am I?” You asked finally finding your voice. Deanna and Aaron exchanged a glance, “You’re in a safe community called Alexandria in Virginia.”

Virginia?

You could feel your world begin to tumble, a thousand thoughts racing your mind. You were so far away from Georgia. You were away from home. Away from Daryl. “No.” You attempted to pull yourself out of the bed but were stopped by Aaron softly holding you back. “No, no, no.” You repeated and dropped your head down into your hands as panicked sobs racked your chest. “Pete! Go get her something to calm down.”

You didn’t want pills to help calm down. You wanted to go home. You wanted to be with him. You sat yourself up in the bed despite the pain in your torso telling you not to. “Daryl?” You asked Deanna. She could see the desperation in your teary eyes, “I’m sorry we only found you.”

Aaron sat up from the dirt floor of the barn after Rick had knocked him unconscious. Rick’s group continuously went back and forth with one another debating their plan. Once they finally decided and everyone was being assigned a position, Rick turned to Daryl. “Daryl, go keep an eye-“

“Wait, Daryl?” Aaron interrupted Rick’s order from his spot on the floor. He felt everyone’s eyes on him in an instant. “Daryl Dixon, right? Y-you knew an Y/n?” Daryl stomped over to Aaron and gripped him by the front of his shirt, pulling him close. “How the hell ya know Y/n?” Daryl’s tone was threatening yet shaky. Aaron knew if he didn’t start talking he’d end up back on the floor.

“She’s in Alexandria, she lives with me, she’s safe! A-a little over a month ago, myself and others were on a trip along the East Coast looking for survivors. We found her in the woods down in Georgia.” Aaron took a pause, “She was in really bad shape, we brought her back and she’s been there ever since.”

“She talks about you all the time.” Daryl’s hand shook around the fabric of Aaron’s shirt, his eyes studied his face trying to find any indicator that he was lying. ”I don’t fuckin’ believe ya.” The thought of you being alive and safe comforted Daryl but he wouldn’t so easily believe a stranger. “I’m not lying, I swear.” Aaron frantically said, “She-she gave me something to give to you. It’s in the front pocket of my bag.”

Daryl shoved Aaron back to the ground with a thud. Rick tossed Aaron’s bag to Daryl, practically tearing off the zipper getting into it. Daryl’s unsteady hands pulled out the familiar small tan book. As he flipped open to the title page, he read the words you’d written to another that day.

There’s so many things I want to say to you.

So say them.

As Daryl read the new words you’d written, he could feel the lump forming in his throat.

It was easier to die than to say them.

“I probably should’ve led with that, huh?” Aaron joked attempting to lighten the mood. Rick’s gruff voice responded, “Shut up.”

The sun shined in Alexandria despite the rainstorm that came through the night before. You found yourself where you always were, in the gardens. The heavy rain had bent many of the plants out of shape and the raised wooden garden beds were flooded. The mixture of water and grass squelched under your boots as you examined the damage. With a deep sigh, you pulled out a box of cigarettes from your back pocket along with a zippo lighter. It wasn’t a habit you proudly picked back up. But after the fall of the prison and Daryl no longer being there to help you, it found its way back.

You tilted your head up to the sky and blew the smoke from your lips. You closed your eyes and let the sunlight cast its rays onto your face. And as you did, you tried to imagine that you were standing in the garden of the prison again. That Daryl stood only a few feet away, fighting with a vegetable, and cursing as he did.

“Hey Y/n.”

Spencer disrupted your daydream, standing a few feet away and calling out your name. “Sorry,” He jokingly held up his hands in surrender, “Aaron’s back, he asked for you at the gate.” Aaron had returned to Alexandria several times over the past month with new faces. Every time you’d go to the gate and wait for him to return, your heart full of hope. But every time the same disappointment rained down on you. It was never who you wanted, it was never him. So, when Aaron told you about a group he’d been tracking and trying to bring back, you didn’t care to listen. You saved my ass and now you think you can save everyone? You said to him a few nights ago.

“Going.” You replied bluntly. You wouldn’t allow your hopes to grow just to be smashed into pieces. Your eyes were on the ground as you walked to the front gate, cigarette dangling from your lips, and hair falling in your face. Spencer talked his jaw off beside you, every word he spoke going in one ear and out the other. But the sound of a familiar whistle vibrating against your eardrums perked your head up in an instant.

You tossed your cigarette from your mouth and found your way back to him. Daryl met you halfway, his arms desperately pulling you in close. Your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, feeling his shaky breaths on the skin of your own. Your hair was soft and smelled of shampoo. Daryl grasped the fabric of your shirt that smelled ever so slightly of cigarettes.

When Daryl pulled away to look at you, he finally saw the fresh scar drawn on your lips. He wanted to scold you. To tell you how foolish you'd been to go after the Governor alone. "Ya got him?" Was all he could bring himself to ask. You avoided answering but you nodded, "Come on, I wanna go see everyone else."

Despite the group still not fully trusting Alexandria, they felt more at ease knowing you’d been kept safe here. After helping Rick settle the group into the Alexandrian homes, you sat on the front porch with Daryl. Daryl hadn’t let you out of his sight for a second. Everything you did and every where you went, he was there. Besides when Carol shoved him away to shower.

The two of you passed back and forth a lit cigarette, comfortable in the silence of the night air. “Tara asked me about the Governor.” Your words were quiet just incase anyone were listening. Daryl looked to you. “Yeah?” With a deep sigh, you blew the smoke from your mouth. “Yeah…asked what he did to me.”

Daryl could see the way the thought of it dragged your lips into that familiar frown. “Told her I didn’t wanna make her guilty conscious even worse.” You said it as if it was meant to be a joke but Daryl saw through it. “It’s gettin late.” Daryl begin to break you from those thoughts. He was right. The sun had set about an hour ago and everyone was setting up their beds for the night.

“Ya ah….Ya gonna go home?” Daryl didn’t want you to leave, he never wanted to be without you again. “I am home.” There was no hesitation in your reply. Daryl’s eyes snapped to yours in an instant. “Ain’t what I meant.” You stood from your spot and reached a hand out to him, “Come with me.” Daryl glanced between your hand and your eyes. The night was dark and the porch light dim but you could see the rosy color blotch at his cheeks. You lightly kicked his foot with your own, “Just wanna show you where I’ve been staying.”

Your room was in the fully furnished basement of Aaron and Eric’s home. Aaron had welcomed you in, knowing you couldn’t be on your own in your condition. The stairs were on the farthest right wall of the basement, leading you down into a lounge like area with tan carpet and white walls. An L shaped leather couch sat in front of a, now useless, flat screen TV. Past the couch, on the back wall, stood two white doors. Daryl presumed behind one of them laid your bedroom.

You walked him over to the left door and pushed it open. There was nothing special about your room. Simply a bed, two nightstands, a dresser, and a bookshelf in the corner. You sat at the foot of your bed, Daryl took it as a sign to do the same. “I’m sorry Daryl.” Your voice was just above a whisper, avoiding his eyes when you spoke. “I should’ve looked harder for him…I shouldn’t of gotten so distracted.” Your head hung low in shame, “I should’ve talked about that day..in the woods.” The dimly lit room hid the tears that fell from your eyes. “I should’ve said everything I wanted to say.”

“We should’ve.” Daryl corrected you, stopping all your blabbering. Your watery eyes met his with a look of confusion. “Everythin’ ya said. I was there too. S’not all your fault Y/n.” The impact of Daryl’s words made you go quiet. “Ain’t yer fault what he did to you either.”

“I love you.”

Daryl had never shut his mouth so fast in his life. You weren’t sure where your outburst of confidence came from but you didn’t regret it. You accepted it every waking day and every sleepless night you were apart from him. “Nah, ya don’t.” Daryl rejects your confession at the grace of his own insecurity. Your hands raise themselves to his face, a stern look gracing your features. “I have since the prison.”

Daryl didn’t know what to do. He could feel his heart pounding against his chest and the warmth from your hand on his cheek. You gently lean in before connecting your lips with his. When you pulled away, you rested your forehead against his own. If you had just ruined everything Daryl and you had, you at least wanted to bask in his presence one last time. “I love ya too.” Daryl leaned back in, capturing your lips in his.

The night you’d spent together was full of gentle touches and whispers. The only time silence happened was the sleep bestowed upon you afterwards. Your bedroom was dimly lit come morning time. The only windows in your room were up towards the ceiling, just above ground level. For the first time since Jackson died, you woke up peacefully. No panic attack awaiting you, no need to run away and fill your lungs with smoke. Feelings of the night before returned to your mind, memories in vivid detail. Daryl awoke when he felt the movement of the sheet from beside him.

With your back turned to him, Daryl took it upon himself to graze the skin of your bare back with his fingertips. He caught a glance at the deep scarring along your side. The gash had turned into a raised, dark pink, bruised color on your skin. Daryl could see shadow of lines covering its length from the stitches that had held it together.

As his fingertips traveled down, they stopped on another scar. The left side of your lower back was imbedded with the letter “G”. The scarring of the initial raised your skin, though it wasn’t pink and bruised like the other. It had healed to a shade paler than your skin tone. Daryl simply couldn’t believe it. Fucking bastard.

“Branding iron.” You begin, voice slightly rasp from sleep. “Never did it to anyone else…just me.” Daryl’s hand fell from your back, “Come here.” You reluctantly did so, turning to face him. His hand found the side of your face that didn’t rest on the plush pillow. His facial expression’s became serious but his eyes remained gentle. “Ain’t gonna let no one treat you like that ever again. Ya feel like someone breathes around ya the wrong way, you tell me alright?” You playfully rolled your eyes, a cheeky smile forming but you still replied “Alright.”

Daryl thumb drug along your bottom lip, stopping at the pale scar. “Promise ya won’t ever stop doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“…Bein’ happy.”

–––––––––––

A/n: I've proof read this over and over so I hope everyone is able to enjoy it and theres no mistakes! If anyone would like to submit a request, feel free too. If it's a project i'd be willing to take on, I will try my best to get to it.

[alyhorse6]

Re girls are so pretty I want to kiss them all

[alyhorse6]

Diagrams are helpful to me

[alyhorse6]

Holy wow- this was single-handedly the best Daryl fic I’ve ever read😍

Photos of You

Fem!Reader x Subbish!Daryl Dixon

word count: 20,498 (I hope)

NSFW.

Warnings: Explicit, full of horny, Minors DNI. Pillow humping, Sexual photographs, Vaginal sex, Oral sex, Talks of alcohol, vague talks of Daryl's child abuse. That's pretty much it, can't think of any more trigger warnings.

"Hey, look what I found!"

Daryl turned his head away from what he was currently occupied with, a box full of abandoned books in the corner of the room.

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

Rick had sent you and Daryl to scavenge for, well, anything useful actually. The children needed new books to read, The pantry could always use more food, And you can never have too many medical supplies in an apocalypse. you and Daryl had thought you hit the jackpot when you came across an old, rather large, thrift shop with enough clothing and books to keep Alexandria stocked for a while. Daryl even found a recliner he seemed to like. Unfortunately, the universe has decided to make your lives a billion times more difficult ( as usual) by sending a decent-sized herd in your direction. you both made it out fine, with only a few bruises and at least 50 of the undead bastards still on your tail, so you both decided to look for a place to wait them out until morning. and like a beacon of light shining in the cold, damp night air, you both stumbled across a dilapidated shack with a set of metal doors protruding from the ground beside it. thinking it was your best chance at a safe shelter for the night, Daryl quietly opened the doors and moved down the stairs to scan the room for potential threats. Once he gave the all-clear, you shut the doors tightly and not even five minutes later, heard the shifting and shambling of the rotting undead above your heads.

turning on your flashlight, you scanned the room to take in your surroundings. it looked to be a makeshift bunker of some kind. It was pretty large, walls made from some kind of metal. In the left corner of the room, there was a bunk bed with gray sheets, colorful quilts, and rather comfy looking pillows. In the right corner, a little kitchenette with various appliances and cabinets for storage. In the middle of the room there was a wooden table with two folding chairs, cards and other assorted items strewn about the surface. you had to admit, besides how cold it was

"Do you think anybody lives here?" you asked Daryl as he started rummaging through cabinets to look for spare supplies. You watched as he brought two fingers down and gave the counter a quick swipe.

"Nah. S' a lotta dust"

You moved further into the room towards the table, where a storm lantern sat, untouched for months or even years. you pulled out your metal zippo lighter and palmed it fondly for a second. Daryl had given this to you months ago and it was one of your prized possessions to date. You recalled a time when you thought he would never give you a gift, or even talk to you for that matter. When you two first met, he wouldn't even look at you and only threw you the occasional snarl, and now he was one of your closest friends. He had really grown as a person since Atlanta... And you had grown fond of him.

Snapping back to reality, you tried to focus on the task at hand, lighting the lantern. with a single flick, the lighter produced a perfect flame. The damn thing was always reliable. The lantern roared to life and gave the room a soft orange glow. You moved around the room, lighting the other three lanterns that were meticulously hung for optimal lighting. You glanced over to ask Daryl a question, but it died on your lips as your eyes found him. From where you were standing, you had a perfect side view of his face. The light hit him as it danced in flickering shadows across his features. He knelt over a chest filled with blankets on the floor, concentration painted on his knitted brow. He looked pretty like this, his bangs falling lightly over his eyes while he moved about. He stuck his tongue out in concentration, one of his many admirable idiosyncrasies, like when he fidgets with something in his fingertips, or rubs his chin with the back of his hand.

You break from your thoughts again, mentally scolding yourself for once again getting side-tracked thinking about Daryl. You decide to at least try and look around for things that could be useful, focusing on a nightstand next to the bunk beds. It was a shoddy thing, looked like it was built out of a pallet and nailed together by a blind child. It had a drawer though, so that was a start. opening it, you find quite a few... interesting things. A chain of at least 15 condoms, a really expensive looking vibrator, a polaroid camera, a few boxes of film, and some already taken photos. Upon closer inspection, the photos revealed a couple in some very compromising positions. One photo in particular was a view of a woman laid out on a bed, sweaty and tense, breasts on display for the camera with her back to the sheets. You immediately begin striding over towards where Daryl was hunched over a box with an amused look on your face.

"Hey, look what I found!"

Daryl turned his head away from what he was currently occupied with, a box full of books in the corner of the room.

"whatcha got there?"

You lower your hand, silently offering the pictures to him. He flicks his head to the side, effectively moving his bangs from his eyes for a better look. His cheeks fired up as he flipped through each picture and felt the embarrassment welling up in his chest.

"These too," you said lightly as you held up the chain of condoms and the vibrator with an amused look in your eye.

Daryl's blush spread from his cheeks to his shoulders, and his ears were comparable to the color of a ripe strawberry at that point.

"Some couple back a' Alexandria gon' enjoy 'em," He managed to utter. But oh, how he wished it was the two of you putting them to use instead.

"Oh hell no! this bad boy is mine!" you said, holding up the vibrator, "They can have the condoms though."

Daryl did NOT need that image in his head right now. Of you all laid out, that thing going between your legs, your moans filling his ears, maybe his name spilling from your lips...

The truth is, Daryl had been harboring a crush on you since the prison. He had to admit, the beginning of your relationship with him had a rough start. He was mean to you for no reason other than he was too scared to get close to you. Wasn't any easier with Merle in his ear all the time, "Tha' girl ain' gon' wantchu baby brother. you're just a lowlife." But after Merle was gone, Daryl had slowly realized that he hurt you over time. You avoided him around camp and used every excuse in the book to prevent spending any time with him. When Hershel's farm burned down and the group was on the run, Daryl would ask Rick to give him as many watch shifts as he could with you. And when the group found the prison, He did the same thing. Taking shifts with you up in the guard towers, bringing extra snacks he found on runs with him so you two could eat. Eventually, Rick started pairing the two of you up on runs, and you two made a flawless team. you both maneuvered expertly, like you were fine tuned to each other's movements and reactions. You both worked on the same brain wave, which came in handy when you needed to make quick decisions on an impulse. And eventually, the archer began to develop feelings for you. At first, he would find himself looking at you, admiring how your body moved when you took out walkers on the fence. Then he started thinking about you, finding little things on runs that reminded him of you and pondering o if you would like them or not. He didn't usually bring them back though, Merle still in his head telling him that it didn't matter how many gifts he gave you, you still would never see him like that. Eventually, the thoughts wandered. They progressed, and sometimes even followed him into the confines of his cell late at night, swirling in his head like a catchy song.

click.

The sudden sound caught him off guard. He looked up to see you chuckling to yourself with that bright smile he adored. He would do anything to see you smile like that, even if it killed him. He watched you with adoring eyes as you pulled the freshly taken picture from the slit in the camera and shook it back and forth. He felt embarrassment creeping up his neck again when you took a look at the photo and smiled. He took a deep breath to compose himself and choked out, "ya gon' lemme see the damn picture r' wha'?." He's trying his hardest to sound nonchalant, but deep down he was nervous, and sweat forming on his palms was certainly showing it.

You hand him the picture, and he replies with a scoff. "tch! I look ridiculous," He remarked while throwing the picture down on the floor.

"No, I think you look great."

He stiffened at that. Fuck! one more thing he's going to think about later when he's alone. He could already feel himself growing in his pants as he groans just low enough so you can't hear. 'Really? jus' a compliment 's giving ya' a hard on? c'mon man,' He reprimanded  himself in thought. The silence thickened, as you shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot with a sad-ish look on your face. 'Oh shit, she thinks she made ya' upset. respond asshol-"

"Well, I guess we should eat," you said, cutting off his thought process.

'fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck,' "Sure." 'you fucking coward'.

After that, you both sat down to eat your glamorous dinner of canned pork and beans. The uncomfortable energy had faded at that point, which was another thing Daryl loved about you so much.  You never dwelled on anything longer than necessary, and you always knew how to make the mood right. When you got up to go get something from the kitchenette, Daryl couldn't help but replay what you said in his mind. 'You look great,' what did you mean by that? maybe he imagined the whole thing. Yeah, that must be it. His eyes drifted down to the legs of your now empty chair in thought, where your backpack was propped. And maybe he was imagining this too, but he could swear he saw the corner of a polaroid picture sticking out of the front pocket...

That night he laid down on the bottom bunk of the bed in quiet thought, agonizing over his lack of response earlier, thinking about the picture. He wondered if you would silently resent him now because of it, or even more, he wondered if you wouldn't take his picture again. He always hated having his picture taken as a child. Once in a while, his mother would pretend to give a shit and try to take family photos to hang on the walls. He hated the pictures she took because his bruises were always visible, almost as if to taunt and humiliate him when he'd walk by the frames in the hallway. He's been sour towards pictures ever since, avoiding them like the plague. That was, until about an hour ago. He found himself hoping you would take pictures of him, even with him maybe. God, he would let you do anything to him as long as it made you smile.

His thoughts wandered again, making his cock stiffen in the tight confines on his jeans. Fuck! He couldn't do this now, you were asleep right above him!  The thought of you catching him made the burning feeling in his core worse somehow, as his pants became uncomfortably snug. He flipped over on his stomach in an attempt to diffuse the situation that had been building since the two of you entered this godforsaken bunker, but failed miserably when his sensitive tip brushed against the mattress, causing him to hiss out in pleasure. Fuck, he was a goner. Just then, he noticed the flannel shirt you had left on the floor next to the bunks. He felt shame at the idea that flashed across his mind, but convinced himself that it wouldn't hurt. He was about to do something he hadn't done since he was a horny highschooler. He pulled your flannel up onto the bed by the sleeve and brought it to his nose, taking a big whiff of the area around the neckline. He groaned in satisfaction and flipped on his back as he pushed his pillow on top of his hips and placed your shirt over his face. He reached down, lifting his hips off the bed just enough so he could free his red, throbbing, cock and push it against the surface of the pillow. The contact made him dizzy with anticipation as he thought about what he was going to do. He started moving his hips up in a thrusting, grinding motion slowly so as to not wake you up, moaning a little with each pull and push.

He thought of you as he chased his pleasure, as he always did. He thought of your hips and how they swayed when you walked. He thought of your hands, and how they felt that one day you grabbed his arm to show him something. He thought about that time you insisted on putting his hair in a ponytail, and how was he going to deny you when you looked all sweet and happy? The feeling of your fingers pulling at his hair to get it in the hair tie will be forever engraved into his brain. He thought about you on top of him, riding him while he holds that vibrator to your clit and brings you to your climax.

He whimpered a little bit, pushing the shirt into his face to envelope himself in your scent. you smelled so good to him, like that lavender soap you loved and leather books. The best goddamn smell in the world, or at least he thought so. His hips started to speed up as he became dangerously close to his high. The stark contrast in temperature between his hot, twitching dick and the cool, soft pillow sent shivers down his spine. The friction, The thought of you, Your smell, Your hands, Your mouth. It was slowly becoming too much for him to handle. He needed to cum. He needed to cum to you, FOR you. Then a thought hit him, what if you kept the polaroid because you were attracted to him? what if you kept it because you wanted to... use it. What if you thought about him like this, all sweaty and desperate for you??

oh

OH

That was it, That thought is what made his nerve endings light up all over. His climax came in white hot flashes of pure pleasure, His thick cock spurting long streams of warm cum all over his pillow and bare stomach. He moaned wildly into your shirt as he bit down on the collar, riding out the waves of his orgasm with reckless abandon and no concern for noise.

He laid there slick with sweat and semen, his hair stuck to his face and neck, breathing heavily as he shivered through the post orgasm cooldown. He stayed there for a good minute, still giving little thrusts that made him whine with sensitivity from the overstimulation. Ridiculing himself in shame over what had just happened, He slowly placed your flannel back on the floor where it had previously been and tucked himself back into his pants. He would just clean himself later. However, When he pulled his pillow back up to his head, he realized his mistake. in all his horny desperation, he had forgotten about the fact he had just cum on his pillow with no way to clean it. 'Way ta go dumbass, ya' ruined yer only pillow.' He shook his head as he threw the pillow under the bed and laid back down. Only one slightly embarrassing thought still crossed his mind before he fell asleep, 'I wonder if she'll take more pictures of me.'

Little did he know, that's exactly what would happen.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Morning came, and aside from the shame Daryl felt deep in his gut, the day went pretty well. You returned to the store you two were at the previous day, loading everything you could fit into the storage truck (especially Daryl's chair) and heading for home. The ride home had an awkward air to it, even though you tried your best to lighten the mood with jokes and gossip about the people of Alexandria. Daryl just couldn't keep the conversation going, too busy thinking about last night.

He lit a cigarette and opened the window to get some fresh air. You took notice of how the afternoon sun made his skin shine, and how his lips wrapped around the damn thing perfectly.

click

Daryl turned to you, watching you shake out the film again and giving it a good look.

"S' this gon' be a thing now?"

"Oh, absolutely."

He let a small smirk grace his lips and heard another click to his right.

"What? I rarely see you smile," You said, defending against his scrutinizing look. You gave the photo in your hand another studious glance. God, he was pretty. from the long, brown hair that graced his forehead, down to the stubble on his chin you dreamed about rubbing on your thighs. What would it feel like to have those angular lips drag across your body with need and desire? What sensations would those rough, callused hands make you feel? You bet he's rather dexterous on account of all the whittling he does with those arrows, and the pure skill his fingers use to expertly skin a deer. You bet he's really good at applying pressure in all the right places...

"Hey! Daryl, what the hell?"

Your attention is gripped by Daryl grabbing the camera from your lap with one hand and bringing it up to his face in one swift motion. He snaps a picture of you and glances at the road while he waits for it to print.

"'S my turn, sunshine."

Was he... Trying to be playful right now? The only other time he was playful was that night when you were both up in the guard tower and you challenged him to a game of knife throwing, to which he responded with a competitive grin and a, 'You're on.' You both threw your knives at a very well made target you had drawn yourself that was taped to the pole in the middle of the tower. The rules were simple, First person to hit the bullseye would emerge victorious. After three or four throws, you landed the shot perfectly, causing Daryl to sarcastically accuse you of cheating. Those nights in the tower were some of your favorite memories. Snacks shared over mutual silence, just enjoying each other's company and occasionally talking about random stuff. Such a simpler time.

"Are you gonna let me see the damn picture or what?" You remark, mocking him about the comment last night.

"Nah, don' think so." He retorted, taking a drag from his cigarette and puffing it in your direction.

You faked an offended look, watching him stuff the picture into his back pocket. You think nothing of it as you both make your last turn towards home...

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

A week later, Rick took it upon himself to throw a party for the new group that had arrived at the gates. You had to hand it to Him, The idea to put signs up on the major roads and train tracks had been a huge success. Alexandria had gained quite a few new members since then, most of which were actually decent people, which was hard to come by these days.

You invited Rosita over so you two could pick out clothes and do makeup together. You enjoyed quality girl time since You didn't have any sisters growing up. Rosita always helped you piece together outfits for these events, she was the self-proclaimed best stylist in Alexandria, not that you would disagree.

You stood in front of the mirror, Feeling the fabric of the dress between your fingertips. It was cute, a red sun dress that hugged your hips and showed off a considerable amount of cleavage. She paired it with a set of black strappy heels that accentuated your calves nicely. She also insisted on you keeping your hair up with two strands down in the front to, "make your collarbones and cheeks really stick out," or whatever.

"Damn mama, You look sexy as hell in that dress, I'm jealous. Daryl's going to love it."

You threw her a sour look.

"What? you know I'm right."

Deep down, you knew she was. "I just don't think he likes me like that Rosa," You said with a sigh. You gave yourself another look in the mirror with a droopy expression.

"That's a lie. Anyone would take the chance to be with you. If I swung the other way, I would sleep with you the minute I saw you, hermosa. And I KNOW Tara would too, That girl has a looking problem."

"Rosita!" You turn back to her with a shocked laugh.

She just shrugged and continued on, "What about that thing you told me about?"

" 'Sita..."

"You saw that man on the bottom bunk of that bed, Masturbating, right underneath you! And you still don't think he has a thing for you?"

You started to feel flushed, "That probably wasn't because of me."

"you're oblivious. Wait! was it big?"

"Oh. My. God. Stop."

Rosita cocked an eyebrow at you, expecting an answer.

"I- I didn't get a good look. It was dark and I didn't want to invade his privacy like that, so I just popped my head back up."

You remembered hearing him breathing heavily and dropping your head over the side to see if he was okay, Only to be met with the sounds of moans and whines and his face covered in some sort of cloth. probably to keep himself quiet so he didn't wake you... It definitely didn't work. You hate to admit it, but you listened to him carry on for another few minutes. Hearing him whine and moan so close to you had your underwear soaked and your legs rubbing together. When he reached his climax, it took everything you had not to make any noise. He was so vocal, and you were just aching for any kind of relief.

You couldn't help but touch yourself after you were sure he had fallen asleep.

"Bor-ring." Rosita said with a disappointed look, followed by her ushering you to come closer so she could start on your makeup. "Next time, Hop down there and assist him."

You chuckled, "Unfortunately, Rosi, I don't think there will be a next time. Now hurry up so I can start on you!"

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

Daryl heard a knock on his front door and shuffled off his new chair and up the stairs to answer it. He was not at all surprised to see Rick on his front stoop, holding a bag in his hand.

"What'd Ya want? M' not goin' to tha' damn party, so ya' might as well stop tryin'."

Rick knew Daryl hated these parties, but had to attempt to sway him to come anyway. When Daryl walked back into the house, Rick followed in hot pursuit all the way to his room in the basement.

"Come on, brother. Just give it a chance, you might enjoy yourself," Rick said as he stepped through the doorway.

Daryl flopped down on the wooden chair that he had pulled out from his workbench to face Rick, " 'S not gon' happen."

Rick had seen the way Daryl looked at you, like a desperate puppy who couldn't breathe unless in your presence. He was about to play dirty, but this was his last resort.

"Y/N is gonna be there."

For a split fraction of a second, Rick saw a hint of excitement in his eyes. But just as quickly as it was there, it was gone.

"an' why's tha' matter?"

Rick walked towards Daryl with the bag still in hand, lowering his voice a bit.

"Wouldn't you like to look at her in person instead of staring at that picture you like so much?"

Daryl stayed silent. He couldn't trust his voice not to come out shakey.

"Here, I brought you some clothes and some other stuff."

Rick tossed the bag in Daryl's lap. Daryl opened the bag to find a pair of charcoal dress pants and a dark green button up shirt, along with what looked like hair gel.

" 'M not wearin' this shit." He said with a disgusted look on his face. "Don't even know how ta'."

"I can help you, And she'd like it. you know I'm right."

Daryl grunted in response, embarrassment welling up in his chest.

"Fine."

"Good. Now take a shower and put those on and I'll help with the rest." Rick said as he walked out of the room. "I'll be waiting out here.

Daryl drug his feet to the bathroom that was connected to his bedroom and started stripping layers. As the water started to run, he got lost in thought. If Rick could tell he liked you, did you know too? What if you saw him and laughed at him because he looked dumb? Rick better know what he's talking about. He picked up his bar of soap and got to work on his legs, scrubbing vigorously until his skin had a pink tint to it. Now he was getting a little self conscious, trying to make sure his skin and hair was clean for you. He really would do anything to see you smile.

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

"I look ridiculous."

"No you don't, now sit down and hand me the comb."

Rick was a persistent son of a bitch, Daryl had to give him that.

Rick ran the comb through Daryl's wet hair, slicking it all back and adding in some gel as he went.

"Alright, looks good! Oh, just one more thing." He unbuttoned the first two buttons on Daryl's shirt, causing him to let out an uncomfortable groan.

"Never leave the top two buttoned, Girls love to see a little chest."

Daryl threw the comb in Rick's direction as Rick dodged it and laughed. "I used to do this for my little cousin, He was a few years younger than me and he loved it."

"ya well 'm glad ya had yer fun, playin' dress up like I'm a damned doll."

Rick just chuckled in response and exchanged goodbyes so he could go get dressed and ready himself.

Daryl looked in the bathroom mirror, His nerves were getting the better of him. What was he doing? pretending like he wasn't redneck trash and dressing like an idiot. If Merle could see him now, he'd be having a field day with this. How was he even going to talk to you like this? You'd probably be too busy laughing to talk.

Well, at least he would see you smiling.

He shook the thoughts away and mentally prepared himself for the shitshow this was about to be.

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

Rick smiled to himself as he entered his room to change.

He was happy to help his brother with any lady issues.

He was even happier that Rosita had come to him with this idea.

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

You slowly approached the front door to the party, silently wishing Rosita had never talked you into this. "Damn Rosita! And damn rick and his stupid parties." You thought to yourself as you took a deep breath in and closed your fingers around the chilled door knob. With a deep breath, you opened the door and stepped inside.

The smell is what hit you first. Warm, home-cooked food and alcohol. A soft, upbeat tune played from somewhere deeper into the house. Before you could even process what was happening, Maggie had walked up to you, grabbed you by the hand, and pulled you into a circle of people to chat, muttering something about needing to introduce you to the new people. You met a few new folks, Including some new guy named Mitch who was an architect before the world fell apart. you two got to talking, but in all honesty, you were only half paying attention once you realized Daryl wasn't there.

As if the universe listened to your thoughts, the door slowly creaked open and in came Rick and Daryl. And he looked... wow. All thoughts escaped you as you looked him up and down. He cleaned up well, His hair slicked back and that tight-fitting shirt made your head swirl with desire. The two buttons had been popped open at the top, giving you an excellent view of his collar bones and upper chest. Then his eyes met yours, and it was like there was no one else in the room. Quite a few people turned to stare, mostly from your group, probably in surprise at how clean he was. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest and decided to throw him a little wave and a smile.

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

Daryl left his house and started his stride to the party in the brisk, cold night air. "Ya really let Rick talk ya inta this huh? ya stupid bastard, she's gon' laugh atcha when she sees ya like this. swear ta god im gon' kick Rick's ass later." He approached the front door of the event, hearing the music and laughter buzz through the door. He considered going home and changing out of the stupid outfit to save himself the embarrassment, just sitting in his new chair all night and reading one of the books he found on that run last week. He had only been out for ten minutes and already missed the warmth of his bed and the comfort of his old ratty shirt. Just then, he felt a hand on his shoulder and spun around to find Rick smiling at him.

'fuck, too late now. The bastard caught me.'

"You'll be fine."

Daryl just offered a grunt in response as Rick opened the door and led them both inside.

The first thing Daryl noticed was you, it was always you. No matter if you were wearing the dirtiest rags you could find, or the most beautiful thing you owned, he would always be able to pick you out of a crowd. No matter what. The second thing he noticed was what you were wearing, and he would be damned if his heart was still beating after. He raked his eyes over every inch of you he could, taking in every agonizing detail. The black heels made your legs look strong yet delicate at the same time. his hands itched to run his fingers over your thighs while you sat on his lap, taking the pleasure you wanted from him. He longed to leave that red dress that showed the delicious swell of your breast on the floor of his room. When his eyes lifted to yours, he swore the world went quiet. your eyelashes fluttered as if you were trying to figure something out.

'Here it comes.'

But it never did. You only smiled at him and offered a small wave. And he offered one back.

Only then did he realize people were staring at him and he shrunk back into himself. He tore his eyes away from you and started walking towards the kitchen.

'Where's the alcohol?'

He made a B-line for the open liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Bourbon that would be his best friend for the night. He already felt sweaty and was thankful that cologne rick had let him borrow. He was still going to kill him later though.

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

Rosita swiftly walked towards you and you were already rolling your eyes before she ushered you to an unused corner of the room.

"Tell me you just saw what I saw, because I think I just had a stroke Y/N."

"Stop."

"Girl, that man showered and dressed up for you. His hair is out of his eyes, this may be a marriage proposal."

You had to admit, you were having less than pure thoughts about him right now, specifically his chest, which you thought about on a nightly basis at this point. That shirt brought out his ocean colored eyes perfectly, and you often wondered if you dove deep enough into them, would you ever be able to swim back to the surface? Did you even want to? How would they look closed tightly underneath you in an expression of pleasure? How would his mouth look pleading for more? How would that hair of his look spread out on the floor around his head like a chocolate colored halo?

"I have to admit, He does look rather handsome in that shirt." And you meant it. you REALLY meant it.

"Oh my god! You were totally just having a sex fantasy weren't you?" She said when she saw the ever so slight tint to your cheeks.

"Keep your voice down!"

Rosita gave you a knowing look and smile before you walked away and headed for the kitchen to get a glass of water. Lord knows you could use a cooldown right now. Once at the sink, you pulled a red party cup from the stack on the counter and filled it up with the tap. Turning around, you find Daryl in the corner, sipping a glass of amber liquid.

"Hey."

He looked at you and nodded in response.

Fuck it, why not bite the bullet?

"You look nice. That shirt is a pretty color."

All right. this time his heart might have actually stopped. His body tensed and the room suddenly shot up a few degrees.

'Oh no, no this again. say sum dumbass, tell 'er she looks good'

"Ya- mm," He choked up a bit and lifted the glass in his hand to his lips to take a sip of liquid courage. "Ya look great too. 'S a nice dress."

"Thank you, Rosita lent it to me for the night, along with this tacky purse."

You gestured to the oddly shaped handbag that was draped around your shoulder. The thing was sort of ugly-cute, but it was the only bag large enough to hold the things you wanted to bring tonight. Oh! That reminded you. Somehow without Daryl noticing, you pulled your beloved polaroid camera out and prepared it for a picture. Luckily, Daryl was staring straightforward and lifting his glass for yet another sip, making it the perfect opportunity for a photo.

click

Daryl recognized the sound all too quickly and made an annoyed face. You had been terrorizing him with that camera for the past week. Snapping pictures of him while he was working on his bike or checking the snares outside the wall. You had to have at least 7 of them by now.

He shifted his eyes between you and the camera before you finally lifted the picture to your eyes and smiled.

There was that warm feeling in his chest again.

Your gaze moved from the picture, to him, and back to the picture.

"This one is definitely a keeper."

"pfft, I look ridiculous."

"You look handsome." You have absolutely no idea what just possessed you to say that. you were sure Daryl was going to leave and never come back. Why would you say some stupid shit like that? Why wasn't he saying anything back?

Well, the truth was Daryl was in shock. He must be hallucinating, because He could have sworn you just called him handsome. Were you flirting with him or just being friendly? He tried to come up with something witty to say, but all he came up with was, "Stop."

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

The night moved like molasses in January. You talked with a few other people about upcoming events, future runs, and guard shift schedules. You introduced some of the new people to long time residents of Alexandria you thought they would get along with.

Rick approached Daryl at some point in the night and attempted to get a conversation out of him. Deciding he had enough of Rick's shit for one day, He started towards the porch to have a smoke. Grabbing the bottle of Bourbon, he stumbled a little when he took a few steps and almost fell into the door. Shit, was he really that wasted? Whatever, a little more couldn't hurt. It was a party right?

You noticed him leave the room out the corner of your eye and contemplated following him to make sure he was alright. You felt ridiculous for even thinking like that. Daryl was a grown man who could take care of himself, he didn't need you bothering him all the time. But maybe he would like some company? He never seemed to mind spending time with you, sometimes it seemed like he would even seek it out.

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

The air outside was a nice change from the stuffy atmosphere in the house. Stepping out on the porch, you immediately noticed Daryl leaning on the railing, a cigarette between his lips and a bottle of alcohol to his left. You cleared your throat to alert him of your presence and prevent him from getting startled. The moment he saw you, His face broke into a dorky grin and he dropped the cigarette into the ashtray on the banister.

"Hey, 'S you"

Was he drunk?

"Ya here ta see me?" He looked around for other people you could be there to see.

He was so drunk.

"D'ya want sum?" He slurred as he lifted the bottle towards you.

He was wasted.

His eyes looked so happy as he offered you the bottle. You had never seen him like this, it was uncharted territory in your friendship. You realized he was waiting for a response so you just smiled and shook your head no.

"How much have you had?" You said as you approached the banister and leaned on it with one arm.

He lifted the bottle and squinted his eyes at it like he was trying with all his power to see, then brought his thumb and pointer finger to the side. He looked like he was trying, and somewhat failing to measure how much had been taken from the bottle. When he was satisfied with his measurement, he held the two fingers up in your direction.

"'Bout tha' much."

You thought this was the most adorable thing you had ever seen, besides that time Judith had chocolate cake all over her face and threw some at Carl. You sat there admiring Daryl with a smirk as he picked up his cigarette and took a drag, a swig of Bourbon followed closely after.

"Daryl Dixon, you are the pinnacle of health, you know that?"

" 'anks, Got it from ma dad."

Your face drooped a little at that. You remember Daryl telling you stories about his family on one of your late-night guard tower talks. He didn't outright tell you his dad was abusive, but he gave you enough pieces to build a very depressing puzzle. It wasn't a very happy puzzle either. You recalled the story about his 13th birthday. His mom forgot what day it was and His dad passed out on the couch watching old black and white movies. But Merle? Merle tried his best to give his little brother a good day. He bought Daryl a little cake from the convenience store in town and presented it to him at the local park. Daryl always said that Merle could be mean, but he still cared for Daryl as best as he could. As best as he knew how.

You took your camera out of your bag again and Daryl looked at you in sad confusion.

"why ya' always tak'n pictures o' me?"

You sighed and began piecing together your explanation. He probably wouldn't remember any of this anyway, so why not?

"Because you are Beautiful, Everything about you is. You are strong, and capable, and when the light hits you at the right angle, it's impossible to resist saving the moment. Your facial expressions are so unique and rare that it makes me want to capture them all and hang them up for everyone to admire. I would paint murals of you if I could find enough wall space to do so."

You hesitated for a split second before bringing your fingers up to his chin.

"You are the most amazing man I have ever met and you don't even know it, do you?"

He stood perfectly still, but not tense this time. He narrowed his eyes in focus like he was trying to sober up to remember this moment.

"y-ya really think tha'?"

Instead of responding, you just moved to his side and brought the camera up to put you both in frame. You got a little closer to him so your head was almost resting on his arm

"Of course I do."

...

Click

...

You brought the camera back down, Grabbing the fresh film and shaking it to cool it down. You turned over the photo, only to realize Daryl had been staring down at you instead of into the camera. You chuckled as you turned towards him to show him the picture.

"Hey big guy, you were supposed to look a the ca-"

You stopped your sentence when you met his eyes. He was still looking down at you. It felt like he was staring into your soul with puppy eyes and nestling his way into your heart with each passing second.

In all your months of friendship, nothing could have prepared you for what happened next. You felt two arms snake around your back and a head rest on your shoulder before you realized. Daryl Dixon was hugging you. And... sniffling?

"Daryl, are you alright?" You asked, worried you might have hurt him in some way.

No response.

You pulled away from him and saw that his eyes were a little wet, so you brought your thumb up to wipe them away. Normally, you wouldn't even think about being this close because he hated when people touched him. But right now, He looked like he needed it. It hurt you to see his beautiful eyes filled with tears, no one this sweet should cry.

"No ones ever said tha' 'bout me."

Your heart broke just a little bit more.

"Well it's true. Now, I'm going to tell Rick I'm calling it a night. Wait right here so I can walk you home."

Just as you walked away, Daryl grabbed your wrist to get your attention.

"Ya don't have ta leave 'cause of me."

Even when he was drunk, he was still as considerate as ever.

"Honestly, I'm getting sick of being here. It's too hot and my feet are starting to hurt from these damn shoes." You offered with a light-hearted laugh. "I'll only be a second."

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

"Leaving so soon?"

You loved Rick, but sometimes you were really sick of his shit.

"Yeah. I'm taking Daryl home."

He raised a playful eyebrow at you. The asshole.

You sighed with annoyance, "He drank too much and I want to make sure he gets back okay."

"Well, that's very nice of you."

"Shut up rick."

He laughed that annoying laugh and gave you the go ahead to leave while Rosita gave you a look. You swore to yourself at that moment you would never show up to one of these parties ever again for as long as you lived.

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

"Alright, come on." You motioned for Daryl to follow you.

He silently obliged.

"Alright, now give me your arm so I can keep you from falling down the steps."

He held his arm out for you and you wrapped your own around it. When touched him, his skin buzzed from the contact. He had never been this close to you, and his drunk brain questioned why he hadn't tried to sooner.

You successfully led him down the front deck steps and towards the road with few complications. He was still stumbling like a child trying to walk for the first time, and you found it pretty adorable how he put his hands out a little when he felt unstable. You both walked for a few moments in silence until Daryl lost his balance over a curb and fell into you, grabbing you for support, almost sending you barreling over.

“'M sorry. ya shouldn' have ta take care o' me like this.”

"I already told you, I don't mind it sweetheart."

He flushed at the pet name as he straightened up. Those goddamn pants Rick gave him were already too tight, but it was even more so now.

"Do you have your keys?"

"Hmm?"

"Your house keys bub. Do you have them? The door is locked," You asked him in as clear a voice as you could. He fumbled through his pockets as you waited patiently for him to produce them. He checked his last pocket and felt something jingle. Pulling them out, he placed them in your hand and watched you search the key ring for the correct one.

When you slotted the key into the door, you felt Daryl wrapping his arms around your waist from the back. You froze as he buried his head into the hair that fell against your neck. You heard him take in a large breath, like he was trying to smell something.

"Ya smell so good."

A heat grew in between your legs and you couldn't move. It was wrong to be turned on by Daryl when he wasn't in the right state of mind, but the way his body felt pressed against yours had your cheeks warm and your eyelids feeling heavy. You almost collapsed when his embrace got tighter.

"D-Daryl, honey, you have to get off so I can open the door."

"Mmm." He reluctantly let go of you and you shakily turned the key and opened the door.

"Can you make it from here?"

"Huh?"

"Nevermind, that answered my question." You chuckled and stepped inside.

"ya have such a nice smile. Makes me happy ta see it."

"Thank you. I'm almost upset you won't remember any of this. come on big guy, let's get you settled and in bed."

By pure luck, you somehow managed to conquer the stairs to the basement with Daryl in tow. You opened the door to his room and ushered him inside to sit him on the bed.

"Hold on, I'll be right back. Change your clothes while I'm gone." The thought of him naked briefly made its way across your mind, but you shook it off and focused on getting him something to drink and eat. You entered the kitchen and made a mental note of things you would need. First off, water. You grabbed a bottle from the fridge and set it down on the counter. Next you needed something easy on the stomach. Looking in the pantry, you spotted a pack of saltine crackers. Perfect! That's what you used to eat when you had the flu. If it could work for sick ass you, it could work for drunk ass Daryl. You figured he would need something for the inevitable headache. The medicine cabinet was just over the refrigerator, you remembered from when Abraham needed antacid and the only person who had some was Daryl. It was a struggle to reach, but ultimately a small hurdle to clear. You mentally patted yourself on the back for a successful and bountiful expedition, and headed back down the stairs. You knocked on the door and heard an affirmative grunt from the other side.

"Alright, I have some water for you, some food too. and ibuprofen for the headache. Don't drink too much, you're gonna be thirsty in the morning."

Looking over at him, you noticed he wasn't wearing a shirt. Now, you knew Daryl had been through a lot during the end of the world, and most of it left scars. But some of the scars littering his torso looked old, really old. You deduced that these were most likely marks left by his father, and most of them looked like healing came rather hard. How could anyone do this to a child? Especially someone as sweet as daryl?

You realized he was looking at you, waiting for you to continue.

"I brought you some crackers too, Eat them in small amounts or you will regret it."

He stared at you as you walked towards his nightstand and placed the items there.

Months of watching you. Months of hearing your sweet voice. Months of watching your thighs peek out from your shorts, and Daryl had enough.

You were startled as you felt a rough force pulling you downwards and it took you a second to realize where you had landed. Daryl wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to him, His warm lips found their way to your neck.

"D-mm." Your words were interrupted by Daryl moving his hips upward. You could feel how hard he was and it made you cry out with pleasure. He was holding on to you with pure desperation, Every inch of your body felt like it was burning up.

He moved his lips away from your neck to speak, "I need ya', please Y/N. I need ya ta take me. Y-Ya can h-have me any way ya want. I need ta feel ya." He punctuated the sentence with a thrust upwards that left your head empty and your mouth unable to function. "I-I want ya so much, sunshine. Want ya ta hold me down an-...an`." His hips bucked up wildly and He let out a grunt as his hands left trails of fire down your shoulders and arms.

"Daryl, w-we can't."

He grunted in frustration and looked up at you with big, sad eyes.

"Why? You don't want ta? With me?"

His voice wavered on the last two words and you felt terrible, but he was under the influence and you were worried he didn't really want this. You just didn't want to take advantage of him...

"You're drunk Daryl. I don't want you to regret doing this," You motioned between the two of you, "With me. You might not even remember."

"S-so ya do want ta?"

You leaned down to place your lips on his forehead.

"More than anything."

You took his hands in yours and spoke.

"I'll tell you what, If you remember this in the morning and you still want it, you come find me."

You couldn't help but frown a little as he looked at you with those beautiful blue eyes full of sadness. You brought your finger up to his forehead and ran it over his brow bone, then down his cheek and on to his bottom lip. He kissed your fingertip and you smiled.

"Tomorrow, imma come find ya."

"I'll hold you to that, love."

Daryl sighed as you wiggled out of his lap, already missing the warmth of you against him. He flopped backwards on the bed and grabbed his pillow, shoving it under his head.

You padded your way back to the front door where you had left your heels and purse, all the while thinking about what just happened a few moments ago. Daryl fucking Dixon was kissing and begging for you to take him, and you felt him... All of him. You wanted nothing more than to rip off the layers of clothes that separated the two of you to feel him even more. Tonight's events got you thinking, what if Rosita was right? What if that night in the bunker, he was thinking about you?  You shouldn't get your hopes up, he was most likely just drunk and horny. You've never seen him show any sexual interest in anyone, so he was probably as pent up as could be and just relieving a little bit of the pressure. As unlikely as it was, you hoped he wanted you like you wanted him. His words were like fireworks in your mind, bright and explosive with sparks of color.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

After such a long night, your bed felt like a toasty marshmallow. Your feet were aching, your thoughts were racing, and your body was at its limit. You needed a day of rest and at least three ibuprofen, but a glass of milk and 6 hours of sleep would have to do.

Before heading to bed, you pulled out your leather bound journal and added your new pictures from that night to the pages of your choosing, along with descriptions of each. This was a new thing you started doing after the day you found the camera. You got a few of Glenn and Eugene talking about video games, one of Carl stuffing his face with cupcakes, which was definitely a keeper. Your fingers stopped when they reached the pictures you took of Daryl earlier, especially the one of him looking at you. You decided to keep them out of the book and put them in your nightstand, along with your camera, for safekeeping.

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

The first thing Daryl noticed was the jackhammer someone let loose in his skull. The second thing Daryl noticed was the unbearable amount of light seeping through his basement window. Seriously, who gave the sun the right to be that fucking bright? He sat up and rubbed his eyes to try and rid himself of the mount Everest sized migraine, effectively making it worse. Great, a wonderful start to the day. He figured he might as well brush his teeth to get rid of alcohol breath. He noticed something out of the corner of his eye. A bottle of water, some pills that looked suspiciously like ibuprofen and... Were those crackers? No way he would have gotten these for himself, he's never done that before, just came straight home and passed out. which means someone brought him home. Someone very considerate.

He took the ibuprofen and washed it down with some water, then ate some crackers to settle the unease in his gut. He tried to desperately remember what the hell had happened last night. He got to the party with Rick and... drank. Ah, that explained the memory loss. He remembered you, and that dress. You took a picture of him, he remembered the camera lens pointing at him, but nothing else. He felt the gel Rick had lent him still stiff in his hair, which meant he had to wash it out. No way in hell he was taking another shower, so a quick wash in the sink would work good enough. He dipped his head down and turned the water on. If he saw Rick today, He made a mental note to hit him.

He lifted his head to stare into the mirror, and his hair was back to its normal self. Perfect! time for toothpaste. He thought about you and tried to recall if he even talked with you. After all, even though he would never admit it to Rick, he DID come to that party for you. He hoped he wasn't an asshole to you, he had a habit of being like that after enough to drink. He needed to figure out what happened, and he knew that someone at that party would have answers.

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

"yes?"

Rosita looked tired when she answered the door, eyes droopy and face turned down in a frown. Her face changed when she saw who was on her front stoop. "Well, if it isn't Romeo. Tell me, what can I do for you at 'way too early for this o' clock."

"Wha' happened a' Rick's dumb party last nigh'?"

"Straight to the point then." She motioned for Daryl to come inside, but he shook his head no.

"Jus' tell me."

"Other than you showing up looking like Al Capone? You drank a lot and Y/N... Took you home." Rosita gave him a suggestive look and if he was being honest with himself, he was shitting bricks. Did something happen with you last night? He would remember if you two... Wouldn't he? Of course he would, it was you, and you were unforgettable. His stomach was churning nonetheless though.

"Ya' didn't hear anythin' else?

"Well...''

"Jesus, jus' fuckin' tell me."

"Alright, Alright."

And she told him everything. She told him about the conversation she overheard on the porch, or at least the little portion of it she heard before she gave you two some privacy. She didn't have to say anything else though, Daryl started remembering a little. And then he remembered a lot. Then he remembered all of it. Everything.

He needed to find you.

He needed to find you NOW.

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

The knocking on your door grew quicker and louder with each passing second. Who the fuck woke you up and what the fuck did they want. You swore on your mother's grave that if it was Rick, you were going to beat him with your slipper.

"Y/N, are ya home?"

You cut him off mid-knock by opening the door.

"Daryl, are you okay? Is someone hurt?"

The look on your face almost broke him in two before he remembered why he was there.

"Can I come in?"

You opened the door and made a mock butler stance, bowing your head and gesturing towards inside. He walked inside and shut the door behind him rather quickly.

"Jesus, somebody is antsy-"

He got close to you, close enough that you could smell the scent of that cologne still radiating off him in waves.

"Did ya mean it? please tell me ya meant it! tell me ya want ta and we- I-. 'Ve been thinkin' 'bout this forever. dreamin'."

You looked at him in confusion, studying his hopeful features. To be fair, you had just woken up and were not firing on all cylinders. You usually needed a cup of coffee and some food in order to even see correctly. Then it hit you.

oh.

That's what he was here for.

"Yes, I meant it." You DEFINITELY meant it. You wanted him more than anything.

"Good," Was all he said before attacking your lips with his in desperation, as if you would vanish when he stopped to take a breath. His lips were surprisingly soft and warm, like a fresh meal just waiting to be devoured. Your hands threaded through his messy hair, tugging just a little. He groaned and you pulled him down so his head was level with your mouth.

"Any way I want?" You asked, mimicking his words from the previous night.

You heard his breathing stop suddenly for a moment.

"A-any way ya want."

"Follow me, beautiful."

He obeyed and trailed after you, hand in hand, up the stairs towards your room. His nerves were starting to catch up to him and he wished he was as confident as drunk ass Daryl right now. What if you didn't want to be with him and you only wanted to satisfy an urge? This time he didn't let what Merle said, or even his own overthinking, get to him though. You wanted him, you really wanted him, and nothing else in the world mattered to him right now except that. Even if you only wanted him for pleasure, he could learn to live with it. As long as he got to be close to you. He told himself that multiple times as you led him down the hall, and the truth was, it was a lie. He wanted to be with you in every sense of the word. He wanted to wrap his arms around you at night, and confide in you about his worries, and take pictures of him, and put his hair in a fucking ponytails every day so he could see the smile that lit a campfire under his heart.

You opened the door to your room and led him inside. "Everybody crashed somewhere else for the night, so don't worry about being loud. Although, you really didn't seem to care when we were in your room." You shot him a sarcastic grin but stopped when you turned to look at him. He had an embarrassed aura about him and his eyes were diverted to the left. You put your arms around the back of his neck and spoke in a low, suggestive tone, "Your little noises made me so wet, sweetheart. Couldn't stop thinking about them all night."

His cock jumped a little at your words. He was growing in his jeans, and you seemed to take notice. You turned around in a brisk stride towards your bed, and swayed your hips with each step. Daryl was quick to follow as you sat down on the edge and beckoned him.

"Undress yourself for me, sexy."

He stood in stunned shock as he tried to process what you just said. Y-you wanted him to strip for you? He'd never done that before. Well, he had never done much of anything before actually. He wasn't technically a virgin, but just barely. Despite his nerves, he was aching at the thought of being on display for you, so he slowly shucked off his vest and started working at the top button of his sleeveless flannel. No matter how hard he wanted to be sexy and keep eye contact, his brain failed him and his eyes drifted down to focus on his hands. He managed to get two buttons undone before pausing.

You knew immediately what was wrong and you stood up to take his hands in yours.

"I-"

"It's alright Daryl, I uh- I already saw last night, remember? You don't have to continue if you don't want to. You can keep your shirt on, or we can stop if that's what you want. No pressure, all you have to do is tell me. But I want you to know that you are the most breath-taking man I have ever met, and nothing can ever change that."

You rubbed his hands with your thumbs and smiled up at him, trying to tell him how much he meant to you without uttering a single word. His eyes almost welled up in tears from the onslaught of emotions you made him feel. You dropped his hands and softly grabbed his chin, waiting for his answer.

He somehow mustered up the words in his chest and spoke, "I don't want ta stop. P-please."

His little beg went straight to your core. "Then don't," You said as you sat down and leaned back on your forearms.

With each button that came undone, more of his toned chest was exposed to the chilled air in your room. He looked up to see your expression as he reached the last button, your expression looked... hungry. No one had ever stared at him like that before. He weirdly liked it. He watched your eyes rake over his torso as he shrugged out of his shirt and let it fall to the floor. He was so hot right now, so completely turned on while he stood in front of you, as vulnerable as could be. 'Slow down ya dumbass...'f she wants a show 'en giver 'er a show,' He thought to himself as he reached for his belt. He got the buckle free and pushed his hips forward ever so slightly as he slowly pulled the belt out in one tug. He felt stupid for the attempt until he saw you rub your legs together the slightest bit in arousal. He pulled his jeans down over his hips and ass, making his erection slightly more visible to you, and he saw you lick your bottom lip and pull it between your teeth. That meant you liked what you saw, right?

Sensing his question in the air, you spoke, "You are doing so good Daryl, you look amazing for me. Such a god boy."

Your words spurred a sudden confidence and arousal through him. He turned his head to he side, shutting his eyes tightly as he hooked both his thumbs into the elastic of his boxers. He hissed as he dragged the boxers down his legs, making sure his cock was pushed down until the elastic caught on the rim of his sensitive head. He stayed there for a second, making sure you got a full view of his heaving chest and veiny shaft.

"Daryl. stop."

Fuck! Fuck! you didn't like it. You thought this was stupid and he was trying too hard. You decided you didn't want to do this with him-

"Can I take a picture of you? Like this?"

Y-you wanted a picture of him? Like this? T-to keep? God, his cock was throbbing at that thought and he couldn't form words right now, so he just weakly nodded his head.

"Don't move. you look perfect just like this." The praise was making his head weak and his skin glossy with sweat.

You reached into your nightstand and pulled out the camera which was, thankfully, pre-loaded with quite a bit of film. He watched you lift the camera to your eye and speak, "Look at that, so beautiful." You could see the effect your words were having on him. "Look at that sexy chest, and that thick shaft. I bet you are going to feel amazing buried inside me Daryl." He whined a bit and moved his head to the side, most likely to hide his embarrassed flush.

*click*

"Look at me, sweet boy."

He obeyed.

*click*

"F-fuck. Y-ya love takin' pictures, don't ya?" You could hear how horny he was by his speech, and it was really starting to get you going.

"How can I resist when you look so damn tempting. I'm gonna stare at these when I miss you and get myself off to he thought of your hands on me Daryl."

"Ahhhh," He moaned as he lowered the boxers enough to let his hard cock spring upwards and bounce a bit. He just needed relief, just a little relief. He was big, bigger than average, and you knew it.

"I want it in my mouth baby, only for a second, will you let me?" He nodded furiously and already walked towards where you sat on the bed.

" 'Ve never had s-someone- not with their-"

"I'll make it feel good for you sweetheart, I promise. Just enjoy the way it feels." You said as you brought a hand to his pink tip and lightly ran it over his slit.

"G- ahh." He started whimpering lightly.

"I've barely touched you yet angel, and you're already singing for me. Are you sure you can handle more?"

He nodded in response and you closed your hand around his length and started slowly stroking. His hips were shaking a little, this poor man was so pent up it wasn't even funny. You then leaned your head down a bit and opened your mouth to drop his tip on your tongue, and his knees started to wobble when you took him into your mouth fully. Your throat was like heaven around him, hot and wet and tight, so tight. You kept eye contact with him as you worked at his cock, smiling a little when you saw his head throw back in pleasure. Your tongue traced every vein on his girthy meat until you were satisfied you had memorized and mapped out every single one, and by the time you were done, Daryl was panting for air in between moans.

"Now, what was it you told me you wanted me to do? Hold you down and..?"

The sound of his dirty words leaving your lips was the most erotic thing he had ever heard.

"Come on, big guy, use your words."

"H-hold me down an- an f-fuck me 'ntill I can' T-take it." His words were failing him and he felt stupid for not being able to say a single dumb little sentence. He wanted nothing more than to be underneath you while you used him for your pleasure, as long as he got to touch you.

"Lay down then honey,” you said, pulling his arm towards you.

He still couldn’t believe what was happening, even though it was unfolding before his eyes. All the months spent telling himself hell would freeze over before you considered him an option, and here he was, laying on your bed waiting for you to have your way with him. He watched in awe as you started removing your shirt.

“Do you want to help?” You asked him and he nodded in response. “Words baby.”

“Y-yes.”

He went to put his hands on your stomach where your shirt ended, but stopped before he could touch you.

“Are you okay Daryl?”

The genuine concern in your voice toyed with his heart strings in the worst way possible, and he was reminded of how much he actually adored you. You were so caring, understanding, and thoughtful. How was he going to tell you he didn’t know what to do? How was he going to tell you he was nervous to touch you and mess up? Luckily, you spoke up.

"You're overthinking Daryl, I can practically hear the racing thoughts. tell me what's going on in there." You lift your pointer finger and tap at his forehead.

Here goes nothing.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Daryl shakily spoke,

" 'v Jus' never done this before really with anyone and I-I jus' don' want ta mess this up because I r-remember tha' time at the prison when y-you and Rick were in the garden... t-talking 'bout your high-school days an' all the guys ya've... and..." His eyes lower from yours, and his voice softens to a whisper, "Ya' just have so much more e-experience 'an me when it comes to ta'... this."

Oh, that's what he's worried about?

You open your mouth slightly to begin your reassurance, to let him know it didn't matter to you and you want him no matter what, but he hurriedly started up again.

"I jus' want to make ya' feel good Y/N, I-I think about it all the time. when 'm alone a-at night, touching myself ta' the thought of ya'. the thought of bein' b-buried inside of ya'... I d-don't deserve ya'"

The fire that has been lit by Daryl is now burning with reckless abandon, only stroked by his breathless, heartfelt confession.

"Daryl, look at me."

His face doesn't move, still pointing towards the left of the room somewhere, obviously embarrassed.

"Look. at. me." You grab his chin softly, resting your thumb under his lip, and tilt his head towards you. When his eyes meet yours, your breath stops. You have never seen a man look more lost and full of need in your life, and it breaks your heart to see him like this.

"Daryl Dixon, there is not another man that has, is, or ever will be on this planet that I will want more than I want you." You lean down to his ear and lower your voice, "There is no man I would rather have buried inside me, experienced or not."

He moans lightly, and you feel his cock twitch under you.

"T-tell me what ta' do Y/N. T-tell what ta' do ta' make ya' F-feel good an' I'll do it. Please. I'd do anything ta' please ya'."

"Fuck, Daryl, I can't handle it when you beg like that."

"D-do ya' like it when I beg?" He looks uncertain, and you reassure him with a soft kiss on his nose. The sweet and seemingly innocent gesture makes his face warm.

"Yes, very much. Take off my shirt for me."

He obeys, hands shaking, but only slightly. His gaze burns trails of heat up and down your abdomen as he reaches out a thumb and places it over your naval, rubbing at the skin softly. He looks up at you, assumedly for permission, which you hastily grant with a controlled nod. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, Daryl's hands trail up your stomach and towards your back, moving ever closer to your bra clasps.

His fingers work at the little hooks for a few moments before he turns a whole new shade of red and drops his hands to your lower back in defeat.

"Need help?" You ask quizzically.

"Y-yes... please. 'm not sure how ta' yet."

You giggle a little bit but immediately stop when you hear him groan in frustration. Oh no, you hadn't meant to make him upset. He wasn't used to a little playfulness in between the sheets. You pull the clasps of your bra and slide it down your shoulders ever so slightly, you want to leave him the pleasure of removing the garment himself. You grab his hands and pull each of them up to the bra straps hung low on your shoulders. As he pulled the bra free from your chest with a muted gasp, his eyes widened in awe. You both stayed there a moment as he studied every hill and valley on your chest. His eyes met yours in a desperate yet silent plea.

"You can touch me Daryl, go on pretty boy."

The nickname makes him involuntarily move his hips in a wave of unexpected pleasure. You take note of this and decide to stow that information away for later. Led bravely by your words, he reached his palm up and cupped it over your right breast, testing the weight of it in his large, warm palm.

"Shit, 's so...soft," he grunted, experimentally pinching your stiff nipple in between his thumb and forefinger. The sensation shot electric currents through your nerve endings and earned him a short but sharp inhale of breath from your lips. His eyes widened in horror as his hands recoiled from your skin. "S-Shit Y/N, Fuck! 'm sorry, did I hurt ya'? I told ya' I weren't no good a' this-"

Sensing the panic in his voice you cut him off without letting him finish his ramblings. "NO! No! Daryl that felt great. do it again, please. Your hands feel amazing on me." You waste no time in pulling his hands back to your chest and using his fingers to pinch your nipple again. All reluctance vanished from his features when he heard you moan in pleasure and press your still very clothed core against his very naked cock.

"Fuck Daryl. Good job, Good boy."

His cock twitches once again and he knows you felt it for sure this time. He turned his head and buried the side of his face into the pillow beneath him.

"Oh you like that, don't you? Do you like being my good boy Daryl?"

No response. He just closes his eyes tightly.

"Talk to me, sweet thing. I like it when you're vocal, It's hot."

Upon hearing you liked it, he spoke up.

"Y-Yeah. I do like it. I like being-... I like being your good boy Y/N."

You don't think his face can get any redder and the blush is now appearing over his shoulders and chest, as if his system is so overloaded it doesn't know what exactly to do.

"Don't move, keep your face right there, angel."

When the bed shifts he becomes a little suspicious but doesn't dare move after you told him to stay. He wants to be good for you. He wants to be your good boy. Daryl doesn't have to guess what you are doing for long, as you return and he notices the outline of the camera in your grasp. Fuck, you want more pictures of him.

Why does that thought turn him on so much every time?

He lifts his hands to the side of his head, gently tugging at the pillow... posing for you. He'd pose any way you wanted him to just to make you happy. He'd let you take a million photos if that's what it took.

"Somebody's eager. Do you like being my model angel? You like having yourself on display all desperate and horny for me?"

"Yes. L-Love being under ya Y/N. Love b-being yours ta look at. Never thought ya'd W-want ta-... see me like this...T-Take all the pictures ya want. P-please. Never stop. Please never S-stop."

*click*

You wiggle your hips a bit against his erection and his mouth opens as his back arches off the bed. He whines as his chest lifts towards the sky.

*click*

"So pretty. you look so good in these pictures Daryl. I may just have to put one in my wallet to carry around."

You still liked to carry your wallet around from before the world went to shit. It makes you feel normal, like it's just another work day where you forget your keys and spill coffee in your lap. You could think of no better place for some of these photos than in your back pocket, tucked away in between the leather folds...

"Ya'd really do tha?" He looks surprised.

"Oh, absolutely. Now, what do you say about getting these sweatpants off of me?"

He offered no verbal response, just the hasty movement of his once nimble fingers, now clumsy as he fiddles with the knot on the drawstring of your pants. You internally laugh a little. You had witnessed Daryl's dexterous fingers build hundreds of arrows and carve a multitude of sticks. and yet here he was, fumbling with a simple knot that, quite frankly, wasn't very tight.

It made you beam with pride that you could reduce him to this.

"What was it like, your first time?" You inquired incredulously. You were filled with curiosity as you remembered his flustered statement from earlier.

After finally loosening the knot from your pants, and resting his hands on your hips, he answered, "was alright I guess." His expression became sheepish and you knew he was being stingy with details on purpose.

"You don't have to talk about it, But I'm not not going to judge you."

He contemplated for a split second.

'welp, here goes'

"Must'a been 'bout sixteen 'n Merle, He t-took me ta some druggie's house. Druggie's sister was a' least five years older 'n me. She did some... Work on the side. Merle thought it'd be good for me, "It'll make ya a man," 's what he said. S-she-"

He paused for a second, looking up to you for what you assumed was reassurance. You had never seen him look so vulnerable. You placed your hand on his chest, just under his left collar bone. He breathed a bit and continued.

"She took me ta one of the spare rooms an' I told her I'd never done anythin' like tha' before. She told me it wouldn' be an issue and we continued... I- uh, I didn' even finish. She never breathed a word ta Merle and 'm thankful for it."

He looked uncomfortable, and you felt terrible for him. You were the first person to admit that your first time wasn't the best, when you impulsively slept with your lab partner in sophomore year and faked an orgasm to get out of there, but this was definitely worse.

"And you never tried again?"

"N-nah... never wanted ta... 'till now," He replied with a wavering tone.

At least you've had some good experiences. He hasn't had any, and that thought just made you want to give him some.

"So you've never cum inside someone before?"

He weakly shook his head.

"Well then, we'll have to fix that then, won't we pretty boy? Now, I know for a fact you can cum..." You leaned down to his ear and whispered, "especially on pillows." You felt him stiffen below you.

"Fuck! Y-ya saw tha'?"

"I saw it and heard it, sweet thing, made me so horny. I just had to touch myself that night." You punctuate your sentence with a brisk roll of your hips that Daryl mewled at. "What were you thinking about?"

"Y-you."

Your suspicions were confirmed, and it gave you a rush of confidence.

"What were you thinking about me?" You wanted to hear him stumble over his words. you wanted to hear his shameful, dirty thoughts formulate on his tongue.

"Jesus fucking s-shit y/n. I was thinking about you and how ya sound 'n s-smell. I- fuck I love tha way ya smell c-couldn't help myself from..."

Your ears perked up, "from?

He tried to look away from you, but you wouldn't let him. Raising an eyebrow, you offer him a silent challenge to defy you.

His mind was racing now, afraid you might be disgusted with his confession. He needed to learn how to keep his big fat mouth shut. He just couldn't help himself though, he wanted to tell you everything. He wanted to tell you anything you wanted to know about him. He would do anything for you.

He would do anything for you...

He loved you.

In the next few microseconds, Daryl moved that word around in his head over and over again. It felt so right. Like the word had been on the tip of his tongue for a long time, just waiting to be spoken.

He figured now wasn't the best time to tell you though. Instead, he quieted his self deprecating thoughts and opened his now red, plush lips to answer you. He wouldn't let Merle's voice fill his head when he had your sweet one to do it instead.

A sudden wave of confidence rolled over him in ripples.

"Your shirt.  Tha' green flannel tha' hugs yer chest like it was made for ya. had it pressed up against m-my face so I could smell ya all around me when I finished. Imagined if ya thought of me when ya t-touched yerself too. Wondered if maybe ya... used tha' picture ya took of me for... other things."

The smile on your face could be considered sinister from an outside perspective. "You have no fucking IDEA how hot that is Daryl. No idea at all. Jesus, Fuck, that just made me so wet. I think about you all the time when I pleasure myself, does that make you happy? Does it turn you on that I did look at that picture of you when I had three fingers stuffed inside myself to mimic two of yours?" You punctuated that sentence with a cock of your eyebrow.

Your voice almost sounded mocking.

It made your words even more erotic to him.

That was the single most arousing thing he had ever heard with his own ears. He didn't know if it was because of the current sexual context, or if it was just because they came from you.

He decided it was a combination of both, leaning more towards the latter.

You were overwhelming him and he loved every single second of it. All he smelled was you. All he saw was you. All he heard was your voice and your breathing. Everything was you. Just you. You. You. You. He needed to have you with every fiber of his being. He needed to be surrounded by you even more.

"Fuck me Y/N please. please please pleasepleaseplease. Can't- Can't stand not being inside ya anymore." He whined out the whole thing and it was almost incomprehensible.

"Whatever my good boy wants."

And with that, you put your hands on his and guided them back to the elastic at your waistline. Something about his hands in yours felt absolutely perfect, like they were made for it. That idea mixed with the feeling of his rough fingers brought a familiar swell in your chest that you often felt when you were in Daryl's presence. However, this time it was much stronger and much more warming. You wondered if it was because of the sexual contact or if it was just because of him.

You decided it was a combination of both, leaning more towards the latter.

You lifted your hips for his for a moment so Daryl could remove your sweatpants from the upper part of your waistline more easily. You pulled them the rest of the way down and removed them completely, along with your red silk panties.

Daryl's brain short circuited when your bare ass and pussy sat down just above his throbbing cock. He could feel your wetness leaking onto his stomach and the thought of tasting it crossed his mind. 'Later' he said to himself. He'd pleasure you with his mouth later if you would let him. And even though he had never eaten a girl out before, he would damn sure make up for it with enthusiasm to do so.

You looked at the soft panties in your hand and then back to Daryl, who had his eyes fixated on where your sex met his skin. He was so deep in thought he didn't even notice what you were doing right now. You could practically read his mind at this point, so you called out to him and held out your soaked panties towards his face.

"Go ahead baby. I know you want to."

He wasted no time in bringing the garment to his nose and giving a big, unashamed whiff... Then brought them to his tongue and licked a long strip of the crotch while keeping eye contact. The look on his face was like a starved man being fed a feast for four. His eyes darkened and he let out a moan of pure satisfaction before tossing them to join the other discarded clothes in the room.

You reached over to the drawer in your nightstand and pulled out a condom that you guessed was his size. Taking the wrapper between your teeth, you ripped the foil in half and pulled the condom out.

A memory from highschool flashed behind your eyes and you got a wicked idea. You made an "O" shape with your lips and suctioned the condom on them. You lowered your head to his cock and started slowly rolling the condom down the head and over the shaft, using your tongue as assistance.

You guessed by the little throb that pulsed inside your mouth that he liked it.

"Fuckin' Fuck!"

You giggled, "So eloquent."

"S-Shut up."

A Little amused sigh was shared between both of you.

This moment was so perfect, and it was about to get even better.

"Are you ready?" You asked genuinely, even though you knew the answer. You just wanted to make sure.

"Jesus Fuckin' Christ yes Y/N. F-fuck me already."

That definitely sounded like consent to you.

You gripped his shaft lightly as you positioned your hips over his in a kneeling stance, the head of his cock just barely beneath your entrance. Without warning, you started sinking him into your warm, wet heat.

Two things happened at that moment. You were overcome with pleasure and nearly collapsed all the way on top of him due to your wobbling knees, and Daryl let out a moan that could only be described as pure fucking bliss. If you were feeling pleasure, he must have been feeling heaven given the sheer volume and force the noise from his lips possessed. You didn't know if Daryl's neighbors could hear him right now, and quite frankly? You didn't give a single fuck. You wanted everyone in this whole godforsaken community to hear how good Daryl was feeling. How good you made him feel. You wanted that asshole Rick and Rosita to know that they got their wish and you were both enjoying every second of it. This spurred you even more, and despite your knees protest, you sunk down on him even slower to prolong the moment. Your eyes rolled back and you whimpered deeply as his meaty dick hit bottom and stretched you out sinfully. As soon as his cock was fully sheathed inside you, His moans turned to whines.

As his body fought for control over itself, he shivered and his hands became restless. At that moment he decided, somewhere deep down in his subconscious, that he was going to spend every second he had buried inside your wet, tight cunt. He was never going to waste another second without the feeling of you around him, whether it be your arms or your sweet pussy. The rest of his days were going to be spent with you. Of course, he didn't voice any of these thoughts. His mouth was too busy telling you how good you made him feel, even if it wasn't with words. He managed to open his eyes only to meet your piercing gaze, full of what appeared to be admiration. And if he wasn't buried inside of you, he could probably cry at your sincerity. He realized you actually cared. He realized you wanted him to enjoy himself. His whole life, no one had ever looked at him like that before you, like he was something to care for. After a moment, Daryl realized you were also searching his face for any signs of discomfort, and his heart melted at the sentiment. He gave you a slight nod and a soft, somewhat awkward smile.

A smile looked foreign on his face, given that he always seemed to be annoyed at one thing or the other. His frown was well known and well joked about between you and the other members of the group, especially Carol. You have very rarely seen even a ghost of a smirk flash across his face. While it was strange to see the happy expression on the mostly angry man, it was not unwelcome. A smile suited him, and you were determined to see it more often.

Agonizingly slowly, you lifted your hips and dropped them back down, the feeling it left resembled fire on your trembling walls. Daryl was laying back with a blissed-out look on his face like a man high on the most exquisite drug money could buy. That's what you felt like to him, a drug, Intoxicating to the point of suffocation, and he could overdose on you at any second. You altered his senses in the best ways possible until he couldn't form a single cohesive thought. Every movement of your insides that was awarded to him sent a jolt of electricity and pleasure up his spine, and he knew his right hand could never compare to this. With every passing second he spent buried inside you, he knew exactly how much you had ruined him.

Nothing could ever make him want it any other way.

You had never felt like this before with anyone.

No man had ever made you feel as empowered as Daryl was right now. Sex with most guys you knew just consisted of them trying to take what they needed from you, and then making up some lame excuse to leave. It always felt like a task for you, leaving you unsatisfied. Daryl was different in every way possible, he gave you everything. At this moment, he bared his entire soul to you, every vulnerability and insecurity on display, a sign of his complete trust. Even though he was a bit out of it, he still ran his hand up and down your back and chest, delicately pinching and caressing your breasts with fervor.

This was more than just sex to you, and it was more than just sex to him. The rhythm, the matching movements, the energy that was radiating in the air, all of it formed itself into the most delicately perfect dance, a waltz of two lovers. You couldn't imagine a better dance partner.  Daryl was a masterpiece to you, an awe-striking painting that was made with billions of perfect brush strokes and a quality of paint that only true master artists possessed. He deserved to be admired. He deserved to be recognized. You wanted to paint murals of him and write songs about him, you wanted to capture his every expression in photos and fill the empty spaces of your existence with them. You wanted to be full of him in every way you could be because the laws of imperfection didn't apply to him in your eyes.

You mustered the strength in your arms to pick the camera back up from where it was resting, and bring it to your eye. You wanted to remember this moment forever, and you were going to snap as many photos as it would take for that to happen.

*click*

Daryl whimpered and bucked his hips.

Before you could realize what was happening, Daryl had a surge of coherence and used it to flip you over, keeping up the pace without a hiccup. You were surprised at how fluidly he managed the motion like he had done it a thousand times, even though you know he hadn't. You would be proud if you could muster up a thought that wasn't laced with lust and wanting, however, the rhythm of his snapping hips wouldn't allow that at the moment.

You opened your eyes to take in the sight above you, the camera still in hand. This gorgeous man's woodland brown hair was hanging from his head and swaying in the air with every thrust, and his eyes were strained shut with concentration. There was just enough space between you for you to bring the camera in front of you comfortably and snap a quick picture. His strong shoulders and forearms were flexing deliciously as he held himself above you, and the camera flash made the sweat on them sheen like he was glowing.

That one was going to look great later when you could focus.

You dropped the camera to your side and reached out your hands and placed them on his face, rubbing them over his brow bone and cupping his cheeks in your fingers. His facial tension dissipated the moment your skin came into contact with his, and he opened his eyes to greet the image below him.

"It's okay to go slow, my love. There's no rush. Just feel it. Just feel me." You stated in a husky, almost whispered voice.

He exhaled in response, and the sheer length of the breath served as a reminder of how much smaller than him you actually were.

"Wan' ya to feel good." He informed you, sounding mildly timid, yet still as confident as ever. He smirked at you and punctuated his sentence with a rather cocky roll of his hips that momentarily left you breathless.

"I feel fucking fantastic," you sighed, "I feel like you are wrapped around every piece of Me Daryl. I can feel you in my nerve endings, I can sense you in my lungs. Please don't stop. You make me feel like I am dying in the best way possible." You meant every word and so much more.

Daryl's expression changed from confident to loving in an instant, and he experimentally rolled his hips slower and softer, studying the movement of your face. He spent so long with his eyes shut from the pleasure that he barely got to see what you looked like when he buried himself inside you, and he could kick himself for wasting that time. You looked like a dream with your eyes fixed on his, that pure sexual expression painted on your features. Your hair spread itself out over your charcoal gray pillows and sheets like you were floating in a pool of water. He took notice of how your breasts were warm and sweet like softened butter, the small amount of light in the room cast shadows that contoured your figure perfectly. You looked like a goddess below him, chest heaving and long, feminine lashes blinking. Somewhere along the way, the comforter had been discarded from the bed to the floor, and the sheets had become rustled. They shaped themselves around the outline of you like a renaissance painting of a noble queen, the kind that would have men bowing at her feet.

It was his turn to take a picture.

Daryl leaned back on the balls of his feet and grabbed your thighs so he could pull your hips to meet his once again, letting his touch linger for a moment or two before grabbing that camera that you loved so damn much and charging the flash.

"Stay still." You hear him grumble out under his breath.

You gave him your best sexy pout and felt his cock jump a little inside you.

"F-Fuck," You heard him grunt out once again, "Fuck, you are so- such a-." He pulled the photo from the camera and studied it, shuddering out a breath as you clenched around him slightly. "B-Beautiful."

He dropped the camera down somewhere gently, and honestly, you couldn't care less about the fucking thing right now. All you wanted was to feel him moving inside you again. You didn't have to wait long, because he was back on top of you again in an instant, but this time it was different.

Daryl lowered himself onto his forearms and knees, making sure to bury his head in your neck and hair, keeping his chest connected to yours to the point where you could feel his heartbeat. He wanted to be able to smell your scent all around him when he finished, just like he did with your shirt in that bunker. He wanted to be surrounded by you as much as possible. He wanted to be totally overwhelmed by you. This new position allowed him access to places you didn't know someone could reach, and his moans and whines were bringing you ever closer to your end.

"Close." You struggled the words out, both a warning and a promise.

"Tell me. T-tell me where yer-." He was interrupted by an involuntary moan escaping from his throat, "Tell me where ta T-touch you. Want to help ya. Please I-I'll be good. Promise. Please please please," He trailed off.

He definitely knew how to get what he wanted.

You grabbed his hand and guided it slowly between your legs until the rough pads of his fingers found your clit and you cried out. He began carefully rubbing circles over that spot as he picked up the pace. This was absolutely devastating for you, the feeling of his fingers and his cock working in perfect tandem had you practically crying for him. Daryl's moans were becoming needier by the second. Every time he pressed down on your clit, you clenched around him tighter. You felt like wet velvet. Wet, hot velvet.

"P-Please cum fer me Y/N, want ta know 'M makin' ya feel good. 'M so c-close fer ya. Please let me feel ya cum 'round me." His voice was almost unrecognizable, filled with need. And it sent you over the edge.

Your legs wrapped around his lower back, and your fingernails dug into the flesh of his shoulders, leaving streaks of red in their path. The wave of your orgasm came crashing down around you, clouding all of your senses and making your vision go white. All you could feel is pure pleasure, and Daryl's hair in your fists. He wasn't too far behind.

Your legs constricted around him like a snake ready to strike, but if this is what being poisoned felt like, then he would gladly die right here, like this. The only pain he had ever felt was filled with hate and malice, but as your fingernails raked down his back, the fire he felt made him dizzy. The pleasurable pain spurred him on even more. Your scent surrounded him as he desperately pressed open-mouthed kisses wherever he could reach on your neck and jaw before he felt your sweet pussy pulse around him. The final straw was the feeling of your fingers pulling at his hair, and the coil inside his stomach snapped. He came in thick, hot spurts that forced a small scream from his throat as he humped into you needily. He melded completely into you, and you were so close at that moment, that you didn't even feel like two people, you felt like one.

The scene looked like something out of a movie. The sheets were misplaced and wrinkled, and clothes littered the floor, thrown off in the throes of passion. Countless polaroid pictures were spread out around the bed, surrounding you and Daryl, the camera long forgotten on the floor. You both came down from your high breathing heavily, slick skin now comfortable and chilled in contrast to how feverish you both were a moment ago.

And you just lay there, reveling in each other, in the feeling of one another's presence. Your skin vibrated with the feeling of your afterglow, and you both silently agreed to spend a few moments relaxing.

....

You felt him slowly gain control of his limbs and leave some soft kisses behind your ear. If anyone told you that Daryl fucking Dixon would be so soft and emotional after sex, you would have called them crazy. But right now, as he starts to trail the kisses up your jaw and cheek, making his way to your lips, you would believe anything. When his lips finally do meet yours, it's the sweetest kiss you think you could ever receive. He's so gentle and you can tell that he poured everything he was feeling into it, that way you could feel it too.

The silence was broken by him pulling out of you slowly, and you shuddered at just how empty you felt without him. You both groaned when he left you, and he noticed how you shivered.

"Are ya cold?." He asked, and he looked genuinely concerned.

The sentiment warmed your heart.

"I-," You went to speak but he cut you off.

"Cuz I can get ya a blanket, er I could turn up the heat. Here." With that, he lifted himself off the bed in search of the comforter, covering you with it when he found it.

"Thank you, Daryl, bu-."

"Or I can get ya some food if yer hungry, sumthin ta drink?"

"No no, I'm good baby. I really appreciate it, I do. but jus' want you to come lay with me. please? Hold me? If you want to, that is." You slurred out the words due to exhaustion

"Y-yeah alrigh'."

He went to take off the condom, probably to tie it off and dispose of it, but you couldn't have that. You've been dying to know what he tasted like for way too long.

"No, stop. Let me." You demanded as you sat up, the comforter falling to your lap. "Come here, please."

He complied, walking to the edge of the bed, waiting for you. You reached out and grabbed the tip of the rubber, working it off of his softened shaft slowly.

"Ya better hurry up, or imma get hard again real soon.''

The condom came off and you held it by the top as you opened your mouth, making sure to keep heavy eye contact with Daryl. His cum flowed out of the condom in thick, creamy globs, landing on your tongue in a sizable puddle.

"Fuuucck girl, yer gonna fuckin' kill me," Daryl spoke in his delicious southern drawl.

You fully expected him to stand there and watch you until the condom was empty, but instead, he grabbed your face and pressed your warm lips to his. This utters a noise of surprise from you until you feel his tongue enter your mouth and mingle with yours.

Oh, he wanted to taste himself with you.

That was bringing some familiar feelings bubbling up in your stomach.

You returned the kiss with equal amounts of passion and an eager tongue. The kiss left you both breathless as Daryl pulled away and you drug him down to bed with you. You both laughed lightly when he landed on top of you with an 'oof'. He rolled over on his back and looked at you, waiting for you to cuddle up next to him like you promised you would.

Eventually, you got the hint and made your way under his arm, laying your head on his chest.

Even though Daryl hadn't really cuddled before, it felt natural with you, like breathing. His mind wandered a bit, wondering if you enjoyed your time with him. 'Of course she did, you retard, she was screaming underneath you a few minutes ago.' At least his internal voice was actually helpful for once. He couldn't help but wonder though... Thankfully, he didn't have to.

"I can see your mind moving, sweetheart. Ask what you want to ask."

He was really thankful you could read his mind sometimes.

"Did- Did ya... Enjoy urself?" His reluctance was obvious.

He sounded small when he spoke. You didn't like it.

"Daryl Dixon, I want you to listen to me very closely. That was the best sex I have ever had. You are the best man I have ever been with, and I would definitely like to do it again. With you. In my bed. Or maybe yours. Possibly your new recliner. Your workbench. Maybe against the bike..."

"Alright, Alright. I get it," He let out a low chuckle, his mind put at ease.

The room was silent for a little while as you just enjoyed the silence that was so rare in a world filled with the shambling dead.

...

...

"So the bike, huh?" Daryl asked, laced with humor.

You looked up and met his gaze, smiling deviously.

"If you like that, you would love some of my other ideas."

His interest peaked. "hmm? Tell me all 'bout 'em."

You both chuckled.

"Well, I've seen you flipping that combat knife around..."

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

You woke up to sunlight streaming through the curtain-covered window, it danced across the hardwood floor smoothly. Right away you noticed three things. First, Daryl isn't next to you, which made you feel a bit sad at first. Second, You smelled something absolutely delicious, and you wanted to track down the source of the scent. You noticed the third thing as you were searching for your clothes, Daryl's shirt draped across the nightstand by the bed, which meant he was probably still there. You put it on, along with your discarded sweats from the previous night, and made your way downstairs. The smell got stronger and stronger until you entered the kitchen, the source of the odor. And there he was, standing in front of the stove in a pair of pants and no shirt. Suddenly, the smell wasn't the only thing that was delicious.

Daryl was dishing out pancakes when you walked in, a plate of bacon, and a cup of black coffee sitting next to him. He noticed you immediately and smiled softly. You walked up behind him while he was pouring more coffee from the pot into a second mug, and wrapped your arms around his torso. You noticed the scratches you left on him from the night before, and leaned your cheek on his back, feeling a sense of pride.

"What's all this?" You feigned ignorance.

"'S breakfast. for us." He looked very proud of himself.

If he got any sweeter, you don't think you could handle it.

"This looks delicious, Daryl. You did an amazing job," And you meant it, "You Look pretty damn delicious too."

He chuckled and you could feel his shoulders shake with the action.

"Tell ya what, finish yer greens, and ya can have dessert.'' The last word was a little heavier than the rest of the sentence, and you understood the implications. Who knew Daryl Dixon was so playful?

Having you in such close proximity was driving him wild all over again. He had never been touched so much by someone in such a short amount of time, and feeling your warm skin on his in a domestic environment was making him hotter by the second. He peeked over his shoulder to look at you and when your eyes made contact, he felt that electric spark all over again. You were a sweet little thing, pressing your lips softly against his back and touching his chest like this. He could feel the love radiating between you two, and it was laced with a barely tamed lust.

Were you wearing his shirt?

He might just have to fulfill the promise he made to himself the night before, and get a taste of you for breakfast instead.

How would he even initiate that though? He didn't really know what to do exactly because he was still new to this, but he did know that he wanted his tongue buried inside your moist heat until he couldn't feel it anymore. Do you even like that sort of thing? Would you want that from him?  No. No, he wasn't going to let himself overthink this. You liked eager, right? Well, then he was going to be eager for you. He decided that what he lacked in experience when it came to this, he was going to make up for in his desire to make you feel good.

"Daryl, are you ready to eat?"

"Hell yes, I am." He replied to you under his breath.

"What was that bab- Ooh!" The wind was taken from your lungs in surprise as he swiftly turned around, picked you up by your thighs, and set you down on a nearby countertop. The shock factor soon wore off and faded into excited giggles.

"The food is going to get cold," You whined as his palm covered your sex, catching you off guard again.

His mouth came to your ear and you shivered, feeling his breath tickle the skin there.

"Food feels warm ta me." He really hoped you would find this sexy and not stupid. Just in case, he made sure to deepen the tone of his voice just a bit.

You found it very sexy.

He pulled away and made direct eye contact.

Was he really serious about this? Did he actually want to put his mouth on you, or was he playing around? You wondered that for a moment, his eyes bore into you like a needle in some fabric.

And then he slowly sank to his knees...

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

Still keeping that intense eye contact, Daryl moved forward on his knees and pulled you to the edge of the counter by your thighs, then started working on the drawstring of your sweatpants.

You had to admit, your brain was short-circuiting a little. Was this really about to happen, or were you dreaming that Daryl Dixon was pulling your pants down from the ankles? The latter was very likely, considering you had dreamed about scenarios like this before, In this kitchen, With him. And he was about to make that dream come true, whether he knew it or not.

He made quick work of discarding your sweats, and you were thankful you had decided to forgo wearing panties today. The shaky nervousness from the previous night had obviously dissipated, and you were definitely glad for it. His gaze had moved from your face down to your cunt, greedily taking in the sight of you, almost as if he was memorizing everything perfectly. You were practically soaked already, and he felt a wave of pride wash over him.

At least he knew you liked this so far.

You grabbed a handful of his hair, forcing his eyes up to look at yours. The feeling of your fingers yanking the roots of his hair was something he could get used to.

"Please Y/N, please let me eat ya out. Ya like when I beg right? 'll be good. Promise. Please? Been dreamin' 'bout how ya taste fer a long time. P-Please use me, use my face, pretty girl."

His admission made you gush. You gripped his hair tighter.

Your tone dropped lower, and your eyes became lustful.

"Open your mouth," You commanded, and he obeyed.

You pushed your hips out, presenting yourself like a five-course meal just waiting to be devoured, and pulled his head forward until his now outstretched tongue rested against your folds. You moaned softly, eyes rolling in the back of your head. His mouth was devilish, lapping up your juices like they were the best thing he had ever tasted. To him, they were.

Daryl was feeling beyond amazing, you had the most exquisite flavor he could imagine, nothing could compare. He sped up his tongue, licking from the bottom of your sweetness, all the way to the top, then flattening over your clit. Your noises got louder, and your fingers pulled him closer by his hair. You chased your pleasure by jutting out your hips, practically grinding yourself on his face. He lifted your legs over his shoulders to give you a better angle on him, to make himself more accessible to use. Every sound you uttered made him swell with even more pride, letting him know he was touching you like you needed. He pushed his tongue inside of you, wiggling it around slowly in experimentation. He noticed you gripped his hair more when he angled it up, so that's what he did. Your thighs sandwiched his head in their pillowy warmth, and it was his turn to groan, although it was muffled by the flesh of your sex. He knew what Merle meant now about eating pussy, This was fucking fantastic.

You fed off of each other's noises and touches, each becoming more eager every time. You were getting close, and Daryl could feel it in how hard your thighs clenched around his head with every movement of his tongue. It was now or never.

Daryl brought his fingers to your entrance and moved his tongue to your clit, slipping two of them inside and curling them upwards slightly like he did before. It was like he had pressed a button when he stroked that spot inside of you, and it made you see stars. Your orgasm hit you so powerfully that you almost went limp when the first wave hit. You spasmed around Daryl's fingers like you had never cum before, your vision went white momentarily and you felt something else coming from inside of you. His fingers continued their motions inside of you, coaxing you through your release. You felt yourself getting wetter, Impossibly so.

Oh shit. Did you just-?

Looking down after you gained control confirmed what you suspected.

"Fuckfuck, Y/N. Wha' the fuck was tha'?" Daryl looked mesmerized, staring down at his now-soaked arm and chest, glistening in the kitchen light.

You were still a little light-headed, so your response was staggered.

"That was-... It's called squirting. It- It happens when a woman gets really aroused." You were still a little out of breath, so all you could do was lightly run your fingers through Daryl's hair, massaging his scalp with your nails. "It means you did a very good job." You closed your eyes for a second and spoke again, "Sorry for not warning you."

...

Daryl's lack of response mildly concerned you until you looked down and he was staring at his hand in what looked like awe. His hand moved closer to his mouth and he was... tasting it? He was sucking on his fingers like his life depended on it, taking as much of your juices in as he could.

"Mmm, fuck. Ya taste better 'n ice cream," He spoke, his words muffled by his fingers.

You responded with an amused chuckle, pulling him back up to stand in between your legs. Deciding it was your turn to taste yourself in his mouth, you pulled him in for a soft kiss, tongues mingling affectionately.

"We should probably clean up a little and eat," You suggested, remembering the food that was probably ice cold by now.

Daryl offered a satisfied grunt and kissed you quickly before wandering off to look for a towel.

You couldn't be happier.

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

The food was, in fact, ice cold by the time you got around to it. However, considering the fact that your legs wobbled a bit when you walked, you couldn't care less about how warm breakfast was. You would do it all over again.

You both talked about what the plans were for this week. Runs, weapons training, and the box of motorcycle parts Daryl found a few days ago in an old auto body shop. Somewhere during the conversation, you realized just how domestic this was, like you two were a married couple spending the morning together.

You liked it.

You loved it.

You loved him.

You both made it about halfway through your meal before you were ever so rudely interrupted by a slight knock at the front door. With an annoyed sigh, you padded your way there across the hardwood floor and unlocked the knob while twisting it. When you opened the door, Rick was standing on the porch, hands resting by his sides.

Rick took notice of your choice of clothing, specifically Daryl's shirt. He decided to play dumb anyway. He knew damn well that Daryl went to see you after he talked to Rosita because Rosita told him so.

"Can I help you with something, Rick?" You sounded mildly annoyed, which made him smile a bit.

"Have you seen Daryl 'round? 've been lookin' for 'im. Wonderin' if he maybe went out without tellin' someone again."

Before you could answer, you felt the presence of warm hands on your sides and a chin resting on your head.

"Ya found me," Daryl sounded annoyed too, "Ya need sum?"

You melted into Daryl's touch a little and cocked a questioning eyebrow at Rick. You could tell that Daryl's PDA put him off track for a second or two before that shitty grin of his returned even stronger. God, you wanted to punch him.

"I was jus' lookin' for you so we could go over the plans for the supply run in a few days," His words were filled with smarm, "But it can wait for later."

Daryl spoke before you had the chance to.

"Good, See ya later," Daryl closed the door before Rick could spout more bullshit, pulling you closer to him and sniffing your hair.

Who was this affectionate man and what had he done with the hardass you knew?

You both could hear Rick laughing as he walked off the porch, and Daryl groaned into your neck.

"'M gonna beat 'is ass later. can' believe he talked me inta goin' ta tha' damn party."

You laughed a little. "As much as I hate to say it, you should probably be thanking him. I mean. some good definitely came of it."

"Oh my god, you're right," He spoke sarcastically, fake shock playing in the undertones of his voice.

You stood there for a minute, laughing in his arms and reveling in the attention he was giving you. You had never seen him like this, so happy and loving, He seemed like a completely different person right now. Somewhere deep down, you knew this side of him would be reserved for only you, and it made the moment all the more special to you.

In truth, Daryl had never felt like this before. Of course, he felt love towards the group, but it was a familial kind of love, This was different somehow. He wanted to be your partner, your best friend, and your backup in dangerous situations. He wanted to patch up your cuts, share a beer with you, and protect you when you needed it. But most of all, he wanted to give you everything you could ever want from him. Whether that was a life of fighting and hunting or a white picket fence with a few kids, It didn't matter to him as long as it was with you.

Daryl picked you up by your legs, still giggling, and carried you deeper into the house to spend as much time as he could with you before you both had to face the life that waited for you both outside.

Neither you nor Daryl would have ever guessed that the dead would rise up and bring the apocalypse,

Neither of you ever thought you would find a family from a group along the way,

And neither of you ever guessed you would find love in a world where it was lacking.

And honestly?

Neither of you would want it any other way.

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

"That was a genius idea, I have to admit," Rick spoke with playful admiration.

"I told you it would work, that girl has a serious thing for formal wear... and for Daryl," Rosita stated with a hint of smarm in her voice.

Rosita, tired of her best friend's shit, came to Rick a few weeks ago and they devised a plan. Rick's job was to throw a bullshit party for the newcomers and get Daryl to shower and wear normal clothes, Which Rosita knew would be easy once he mentioned you, then all they had to do was push you two towards each other all night. The outcome of that evening may not have been what they expected, but regardless, the result was still the same. At least now Rick didn't have to witness Daryl pine for you from afar, and Rosita didn't have to deal with you talking about him all the time and never doing anything. And what better entertainment was there than matchmaking during the end of the world. 

Rick, who had placed a bet that Rosita's plan wouldn't work, pulled out her winnings from his jacket pocket, placing the chocolate bar in her hand, which she received with a smug smile. He really thought it would take Daryl a bit longer to lock this down, but this is what he gets for doubting his brother, and Rosita's matchmaking skills.

"As promised," He uttered in his southern drawl. "A bet well won."

"Thank youuuu Grimes," Rosita remarked sarcastically while tearing open the wrapper.

A few short seconds of comfortable silence passed before Rick spoke up with a genuine smile instead of his usual grin.

"It's nice to see them happy, they deserve it."

Rosita finished chewing her mouthful and swallowed to reply.

"Yeah. they do.... and so do you."

"Oh no, I know where this is going." If Rosita brought up Michonne one more time, he swore to God.

"Soooooo.... Michonne?"

"Goodbye Rosita." Rick had enough of this.

"Aww, c'mon! hear me out! So, she has been complaining about the lack of toothpaste, and I was thinking..."

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

A/N

sorry this took so long to write, School sucks, and yadda yadda. To be honest, I just lost the motivation to write for a long time. I have shit grammar and my spelling is a hit or miss. English is IN FACT my first language, although you wouldn't be able to tell that from my writing. No amount of Grammarly can help me at this point, Fuck formatting anyway. No beta, we die like the show's ratings after season 7. Please enjoy and be sure to point out any mistakes in the comments so I can fix them.

[alyhorse6]

Is it just me or are the new tumblr users convinced there's a penalty of some kind for using this site like it's meant to be used?

[alyhorse6]

Resident Evil 1 except the Spencer Mansion is just a haunted house attraction and Chris and Jill are scare actors. Wesker is just a regular employee there but everyone thinks he's one of the scare actors because of how intimidating he is.

[alyhorse6]

Finally getting around to doing some writing this week🥲 My life has been a little crazy because of horse stuff, so please forgive me.

[alyhorse6]

[alyhorse6]

hi omg i just sent in a request and i did not see that requests are closed im so sorry ily

They closed after yours anon! You’re all good :)

[alyhorse6]

Leon S. Kennedy, the silent protector in Resident Evil

[alyhorse6]

Hate, Hostility & Harassment

TW: Vulgar language, hate, harassment

I’m a member of the support team on Sims After Dark. I knew that the infant patch would be a doozie–and it was! What I was not prepared for was the sheer level of hate, hostility & harassment that we (support team members) would face.

People seemed to have lost any sense of common decency, humility, respect, or patience. It’s quite embarrassing that we had to release MORE THAN ONE server announcement on how to behave. It has really blown my mind that people were behaving the way they were to people who VOLUNTEER their time to HELP. I am not paid by EA nor am I affiliated with EA–I just really like helping other simmers play their game with mods & cc. There have also been several modders & content creators who have been relentlessly harassed on when they were going to update their mods/cc. WE DO NOT OWE YOU ANYTHING.

Given all of this, Sims After Dark has gone dark until March 21st. Hopefully everyone will take this time to re-evaluate how they speak to people online. I know that I for one will be taking time away and actually getting to play the game for the first time since the new content dropped.

Finally, I’ve attached some of the responses that I personally received IN PUBLIC CHANNELS. I was also personally harassed by a group of people who joined the server just to say stupid shit to me. This does not include responses that other support team members have received nor does it include the sheer volume of people saying things like: “When will x mod be updated?” “Is anyone going to help me?” or spamming the support channels. I hope these pictures help you all fully understand how we’ve been talked to the past couple of days. I’ve also blocked out the names & profile pictures of these people because I’m not a shit head.

[alyhorse6]

Stop the ending🥺🤧

Domestic Cravings

Domestic Cravings

Leon comes home early from a mission and stays determined not to wake you by going to his apartment instead of yours. When greeted with a more than pleasant surprise he’s unable to stop himself from asking the big question. 

Main Character Relations: Leon Kennedy x reader (romantic) 

Word Count: 2k (a little over) 

Fluff, fluff, fluff !!! 

A/N: Sometimes I don’t write angst. Sometimes. Anyway, I guess you could consider this a Valentine's Day present. Personally, I hate the holiday, but I do love to treat others. Enjoy! 

Leon sighed, the weight of his most recent mission weighing heavily on his shoulders. All things considered things went smoothly and everything wrapped up into a nice little bow earlier than expected. He was scheduled to be there for the next two days, but he ran into one of those rare circumstances where he made it back early. 

As he looked at the door handle to his front door he seriously debated his most recent plan to retreat to the solitude of his own apartment. This isn’t where he wanted to be. He wanted to experience the warmth of your doorway. He wanted to crawl into your bed and find comfort in your embrace. But it was so late and the sun basically just set and you had to have been asleep. Not to mention he’d probably be throwing a wrench in your plans for the next day and the last thing he wanted was to be seen as a burden. 

So, selflessly Leon opened the front door. The apartment was cold as he disregarded his heavy duffel bag to the side. He shut and locked the door behind him as he kicked off his boots, too tired to be bothered to put them away just then. He ran his hand down his face as he sauntered into the kitchen. Exhaustion felt like an understatement, as his limbs felt heavy as he headed towards the fridge. The bright light caused him to squint as he was greeted to the sight of a fully stocked fridge. He smiled knowing that you had already started taking care of the little things for him. He grabbed the carton of orange juice before shutting the door. 

It really only made things harder as he set the carton on the kitchen island as he grabbed a glass. He had a key and he was always more than welcome, he lived there just as much as he lived here, if not more so. You have been dating for a year and had gotten the big three words out and expressed your love whenever and wherever it came about. Rather it be just an exchange of the sentiment via words or actions, he knew you loved him. He knew that you truly, deeply, genuinely loved him. You saw the good and the bad and still adored him. He couldn’t make any sense of it, but humans are creatures who are always harsher on themselves than on others. 

Your apartment always felt so homey and inviting, granted that could have just been because it was considerably smaller, but he digresses. He spent more time there than he did in the luxury suite that was located on the finer side of town. Big tall windows that allowed natural light in easily, a view of the city that ‘justified’ the rent prices. In all honesty he only chose to live here due to the fact that it was so close to the office. Even though he wondered why he even bothered being close to the office when he woke up in your bed most days anyway. 

Pouring his drink he started to really consider why you still remained in two separate housing units. Truth be told he never asked you to move in. He supposed you could’ve asked, but it wasn’t in your nature. You weren’t one to ask someone to pack up their life and throw everything away to be with you. He would in a heartbeat, there wouldn’t be a second thought about it; but it all goes back to people being harsher on themselves than other people. That and the fact that his work played a big factor in everything that Leon does. He was constantly stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Finishing his drink with huge gulps he was unsure if you were even willing to give your place up. It was your first apartment and the rent wasn’t too bad- all things considered- your landlord was tolerable and neighbors were friendly enough. The walls were paper thin and the unit needed a multitude of repairs. Long story short, the place was old, Leon has had a number of things redone there; in fact the first thing he did was replace the locks. He was trying to talk you into a whole security system, but you shut him down. Having to deal with your landlord over the locks was a hassle on its own, you didn’t want to bother trying to reason with him over a high tech military grade security system. 

Your safety and wellbeing was on the top of Leon’s list and he used it in his arguments. But you just rolled your eyes and pointed out that he doesn’t even use his own security system. The thing did nothing but collect dust by the front door. It was your main argument and it stood firm, you told him that once he started using his own you would think about going toe to toe with your landlord over it, but until then his argument was null and void. 

He countered though with the fact that his apartment didn’t hold anything valuable. Sure, it had monetary value out the ass; but anything he had that was worth anything could be perceived as trash to the naked eye. A box full of movie tickets, cards, postcards, and blurry photos was not worth a dime. The memories that the items held were priceless, but they wouldn’t do a thing for anyone else. 

As he went to turn on the sink he noticed the dishwasher light was on, signaling that the dishwasher had finished its job. A crooked little smirk pulled on his face, not only did you go grocery shopping but you took care of the dishes. How lucky could he possibly be? A sense of a domestic life that he craved washing over him. It was time, he wanted you here, or he could stay there, it really didn’t matter. Either place would be home as long you were there. 

Turning off the sink he heard the floor creek. He set the glass in the sink slowly as he reached for Matilda that rested in his waistband. He was careful, he was sure he wasn’t followed, whoever was here had been here. His brain immediately went to you; second guessing having you move in. He moved quickly facing the hall, his arms outstretched and his finger on the trigger, “You’ve got three seconds.” He threatened and as he heard your deep sigh of relief he softened, setting the gun on the counter. You stepped into his line of vision as he flicked on the kitchen light, “(Y/N)?” He called out your name as he watched you shake slightly. The gap between the two of you was closed quickly as he pulled you to his chest with relief.

“You scared the shit out of me.” You said setting the gun you had down on the nearby couch end table. Wrapping your arms around him you scolded him, “You got off early and you didn’t call me?” 

“I scared you? You scared me.” He defended light heartly, “I didn’t want to wake you. It’s nearly three in the morning, baby.” He pulled away from you as he tucked your hair behind your ear. His lips found yours in a gentle kiss that he deepened as you hummed against him. 

“Did a great job at letting me sleep then, dear.” You teased him as you pulled away from him. You brushed his hair out of his eyes, examining the bags and purple hue underneath them.

“How was I supposed to know you were here?” He defended as your thumb ghosted over his cheekbone and you turned bright red. A sense of victory on his face as a wide smile found his features. 

“I just started the dishes and I didn’t want to fight traffic home-…” you peered into an ocean of blue before sighing, “I missed you. I sleep here when I miss you. I sleep here a lot.” You confessed before looking away from him, it was slightly embarrassing for you to admit. You had difficulty expressing that you craved a person. It didn’t make any sense with how open you were about him, but you just chalked it up to your miss independent complex. He just hummed in satisfaction as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. His body relaxed as he kissed your neck with a sense of glee. He went from missing you, to worrying about you, to the joy of knowing that you were within arms reach in a matter of seconds. 

“I missed you more.” He cooed as he kissed your neck, “Glad you’re here.” 

“I love you.” The words fell from your lips so gently and lovingly that his grip on you tightened and you giggled slightly. He made you feel like a teenage girl that was too head over heels for her own good.  “Let’s get you to bed. Shower?” 

“Please.” Your hands found his hands and gently pulled him down the hall and into his room. He noted his side of the bed was the one that you were just resting on; a sense of warmth washing over him. He squeezed your hand gently as you led him into the bathroom. As you let go of him you turned on the shower. He couldn’t help the smile on his face as he looked around and noticed your shampoo and conditioner, toothbrush, lotions, and other toiletries littered in his bathroom. 

You approached him and helped him pull off his shirt, you looked him over. A deep sigh falling from your lips as your heart ached at the sight of bruises and cuts. It hurt to see and you could only imagine the pain he felt. 

“It’s okay, I’m fine. Promise.” 

“This the best they could do to patch you up?”  

“Down, tiger.” He teased as he soaked up your possessive tone.

 You rolled your eyes and turned back to the shower, pulling off your shirt before putting your palm under the running water. You pulled your pajama shorts off and as you turned to face him a sense of nervousness shot up your spine. You usually would tease him about a staring problem, but you were unsure of where his emotions were. Physically he looked exhausted- his movements told you he was exhausted- but mentally you had no idea where he stood. 

Not to mention that you had no clue how he felt about you staying here when he wasn’t here. Sure, he said he was glad you were here, but he never asked you to be here.

“The water is going to get cold if you just keep staring. C’mon.” You nodded to the shower as you undid his pants. His hands found yours, stopping you, as he took care of the rest and disregarded them in the hamper. You tried to place what he was thinking as you climbed into the shower, him not far behind you. 

As the warm water hit his back he let out a sigh of relief. The sound music to your ears as you started messing with his shampoo. You went to work the shampoo in his hair and through half lidded eyes he watched you. A little smile on your face while your tired eyes focused on what you were doing. 

He could get used to this, he was getting used to it. 

He loved you. He loved seeing your things in his space, he loved that you were taking care of him, he loved that you were here. 

You tilted his head gently and started rinsing the shampoo out. A protest never fell from his lips as you scratched his scalp and he moaned softly. You reached for his conditioner and did the same thing, just letting the conditioner sit while scrubbing him down with his signature fresh pine scented shower gel. 

You worshiped him as you bathed him, kissing the cuts and bruises softly as you rinsed him off. He deserved to be taken care of like this and you didn’t mind being the one to do it. It was slightly embarrassing, but he trusted you with his life and you knew his body just as he knew yours. “Relax.” You cooed as you went to get out of the shower, “Stay in here as long as you’d like. I’m going to get you-.” You stopped as he grabbed your wrist and his other hand found your hip. You gave him a concerned look as you scanned his face, you stepped closer to him as he pulled you to his chest. Your fingers tangled themselves into his hair as you tried to soothe him. “Want to talk about it?” 

“No, not really.” He rested his head against your shoulder, “Just want you.” He’s wanted you since he got back, he’s wanted you since he left. You nodded as you held him against you. 

You both stood there until the water started to run cold. It took some convincing but eventually you got him out and in pajamas. You were in bed wearing one of his t-shirts that he practically had to fight you over wearing. Your eyes shut as you listened to his movements in the bathroom, refusing sleep. Waiting for him. 

As Leon turned off the faucet he took a good look in the mirror. A face that had a smile plastered on it as he thought about the woman in his bed. The woman who just doted on him like he was made of glass. The woman who held him so close and made him feel so loved that it all felt worth it. The woman that he wanted to take his last name. 

He left the bathroom and stood in the doorway as the bathroom light illuminated you just enough to where he could watch your chest rise and fall. As your eyes opened he was held captive as you smiled. 

“What?” You asked through a yawn as you pulled the covers up to your shoulders while you stretched. 

“I love you.” He beamed as he turned off the bathroom light and climbed into his side of the bed. Your scent flying off of the fabric of his sheets as the radiant warmth of your presence drew him in. Wrapping his arm around your torso he pulled you to him. 

“I love you more.” Your voice heavy with sleep as you cuddled against his chest. He adored these moments where you didn’t fight with your words and just said what you were feeling. 

He chuckled, “Not a chance in hell, sweetheart.” He kissed your forehead as you yawned. “Go to sleep.” He cooed as he rubbed a hand firmly up and down your back. 

“Leon…?” You muttered against his chest. 

“Yes, baby?” 

“I’m sorry if you didn’t want me here while you’re not here. I won’t do it again.” He raised an eyebrow at the apologetic sorrow in your tone. He knew your past, he knew your uncertainty, but he could’ve sworn that he told you he was glad you were here. “I just missed you and if I crossed a line-.” 

“Hey, hey.” He shushed you, “I’m glad you're here, remember? I want you here. Forever and always. Okay?” You nodded and tried not to sniffle. 

“Okay.” You fisted the hem of his shirt as you tried to keep yourself calm against him. He kissed your forehead before petting your hair. Your eyes were shut and your breathing was starting to slow to the pace that it does when you sleep. 

He knew he should wait, but he was too excited. 

“Baby?” He looked down at you as you hummed in response telling him to go ahead with his question. That you were still listening and ready to talk about whatever he needed. His thumb brushed against your cheek as he admired you, “Will you marry me?” 

Your tired eyes opened, “What?” You were in a state of disbelief. 

He asked again, “Marry me?” Silence fell over the room as the cold chill of uncertainty worked its way through his blood stream. What was he thinking? Was he thinking? You didn’t even live with him and you’d been together for only a year. Wasn’t the next step just to ask you to move in? That was the logical question. Was it too late to rephrase the question? Could he save this somehow? 

“Yes.” You answered honestly, “Yes, I’ll marry you.” He let out a deep breath of relief before his lips found yours. His kiss was deep and passionate as he adjusted himself to be level with you. You welcomed him as you melted against him. Exchanging passion and overwhelming love within each kiss. Each parting one leaves a lasting imprint against your souls. 

He regretfully parted from you to get a good look at you. To judge based on what he knew if this was truly something you wanted. Your bright smile causes him to let out a chuckle of relief before leaning his forehead against yours. You laughed alongside him as your hand intertwined with his, “I love you, Mrs. Kennedy.” He said he ran his hand through your hair. It fell so naturally from his lips that you could’ve sworn that it had always been your last name. 

“I haven’t signed any papers yet.” You joked before peppering a couple kisses on his cheek, “Don’t even have a ring yet.” 

He rolled his eyes before his lips captured yours, “It’s in the closet.” He mumbled as he held your face against his. 

“Mhm.” You moaned against his lips, even though you didn’t believe him. He was telling you the truth, hidden in his safe was a little black velvet box that held the engagement ring he picked out six months ago.