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gothgoblinbabe · 8 months

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Marlboro Red 100’s (pt.2)

Read pt.1 here <3

NSFW 18+

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: smut, swearing, mention of smoking, mentions of abuse (very brief), switch!Daryl and switch!reader bc I could not make up my mind about what I wanted I’m so sorry, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (PLEASE WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT), oral (female receiving) and like maybe could be counted as public sex if you squint? It’s in a closed store in the back room idk decide if you’d have sex there

Ps I proof read this once and got a B average in High school writing please do not eat me alive for my mistakes

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“No way out of it, huh, sweet’eart?”

You frowned as if Daryl could see you over the phone.

“No, ‘fraid not, honey. Maybe you could come see me after work anyway?”

You and Daryl had a handful of dates since your first, hanging at each other’s homes and enjoying a couple nights out. Tonight was supposed to be another date but it was one you had hoped would be particularly special.

You’d gotten handsy with each other the first date and even more after but never had you two gone ‘all the way’, an idea that made you so excited you were on the verge of anxiety.

That was supposed to be tonight, but your manager had other ideas. Someone had called out and you were stuck with a last minute closing shift, which meant you had to cancel on Daryl.

“ ‘Works for me. How ‘bout I come there ‘round closin’ time? ‘Miss ya’, don’ wanna wait ‘round, ‘m impatient,'' Daryl joked. You loved to hear his low chuckle over the phone.

“I’ll be here, baby,” you hummed, leaning against the wall behind the register with the phone to your ear and your other hand on your hip.

The nickname, unbeknownst to you, had his mouth dry and his hands starting to sweat.

You both said your goodbyes and hung up, the minutes ticking like hours until the end of your shift.

—-------------------------------------------

The clock read 10:59 as you walked towards the door to lock it, right as Daryl’s bike pulled up. You hurriedly rushed him inside, locking the door behind.

“Hopefully no one saw you, the cameras don’t work but I don’t want any customers bangin’ on the door to get in ‘cause they saw you,” you explained to him, looking out through the glass door and flipping the ‘Open’ sign to ‘Closed’.

The little store was family owned and the security cameras in every corner of the store were meant to intimidate possible thieves but weren’t really operational. ‘Too expensive’ you remember your boss explaining.

“Oh, so I get special treatment? After hours privileges?” Daryl teased, running a hand through his long brown locks.

“You get a lot more privileges than that,” you let your tongue slip, a blush creeping across your face as you shook your head, pretending to be fascinated with your closing paperwork after you led Daryl to the back office. He sat himself in a metal folding chair across from your office chair as you leaned over the desk to your right.

“Yeah? Like what?” He inquired, leaning forward with his forearms on his knees.

“Like…” you hesitated, recalling the last time you and Daryl had seen each other, “hands on my ass privileges?”

His face mimicked yours at your words, red as could be.

“Y-yeah, that is true, uh-” He tried to play off his bashful stutter and leaned back in the chair, folding his arms and pretending to be interested in the beige file cabinets and black desk.

You couldn’t help but giggle at the way he was flustered.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, nothing, just…I like when you’re all shy, it’s cute.”

“I ain’t shy.”

“Just a little.”

“Nah.”

“Uh-huh.”

Daryl had a wicked idea, wondering if it would be too far.

He went ahead with it anyway, standing up and reaching underneath himself to scoot the metal chair right up to yours. If it really was too far, he knew you’d stop him.

In one swift motion, he placed one arm around your waist and the other under your knees and picked you up, earning a yelp from you and a giggle before he sat back down and maneuvered you to sit bridal-style across his lap.

“I ain’t shy,” he repeated, noting the grin on your lips you were trying so hard to bite down.

He leaned under your jaw to kiss at your neck, making you gasp and squirm a little on his lap. He left trails of open mouthed kisses up and down your skin, finally stopping at your lips.

“ you jus’ make me feel a certain typa’ way.”

What way that was, Daryl didn’t even know. It was a fire inside he had never felt before. He’d been with a girl before, sure, to get it done and over with, but he’d never once before felt the kind of lust you evoked in him. You made him eager to please, someone who’d kiss the ground you walked on if you really asked of him. Truthfully, he’d been itching to get his hands on every inch of you he could since the day he saw you behind that counter. He may not have been very experienced in what to really do with you, but he knew he could make it up along the way if he just paid attention to what you seemed to want from him.

“A certain type of way? Good way?” you managed to breathe out with Daryl’s teeth scraping against your neck.

“So-fucking-good way,” he muttered against you, now massaging half your ass with his huge, calloused hand.

You were still laid across his lap and Daryl effortlessly adjusted you to straddle him, his hands immediately returning to your ass as he attached his lips to yours.

You couldn’t help the soft sigh you let out into his open mouth as he pressed his tongue to yours. His hands massaged your ass and he scooted you up to sit square on his crotch so you could feel his erection in his jeans. You gasped, yanking a bit of his hair that was tangled in between your fingers. He let out a muffled, obscene moan at the feeling of your weight on him and the added pleasure of having you pull his hair.

“Fuck me,” he sighed, looking up at you, lips wet and a little swollen.

He didn’t mean to say it aloud but he’d be a liar if he took it back and said he didn’t mean it.

His words brought you back from heaven to earth and you remembered where you were, dry humping each other in the back office of the store.

“The sooner I get this paperwork done,” you started, tucking a strand of Daryl’s hair behind his ear, “the sooner we can get out of here and I can do that.”

He blinked up at you adoringly, leaning into your touch with his eyes still glued to yours. He tossed over an idea in his mind, knowing the door was locked out front and those cameras scattered around didn’t really work. It was a bad idea, he knew, surely, but it couldn’t possibly be that bad if the idea made him feel so good.

“Who said we had to leave here to do it?”

The office space, small but sizable enough to fit two chairs, a desk and a cabinet, had no windows and a lockable door. Daryl kept his eyes on your puzzled face as he leaned forward, still with a firm hold on you with one arm, and kicked the office door shut, locking it.

Your eyes widened as you realized what he was insinuating.

“In..In here? You wanna have sex with me in this office.”

It wasn’t a question, you knew what he meant, you just weren’t sure if he was serious.

“Think about it, how’s anyone gonna find out, hm?” As he spoke, Daryl moved one of his hands to the front of your pants, cupping your pussy.

You softly moaned, unable to keep quiet at the pressure of his palm.

“F-fuck, Daryl, I-” you tried to speak, silenced by the way he started to slide his fingers over your clothed slit.

“Hm? What, baby?”

The way he could make you such a mess with simple touch inflated his confidence and he took pleasure in teasing you.

“Are you sure you want to?” you asked honestly after he removed his hand to let you speak.

“Positive, I want you anyway I can have you, don’t care where we are, all that matters is that it's with you,’’ He admitted, “do you wanna?”

To answer his question, you brought your shirt up and over your head and revealed the lace bra you wore underneath. You tossed your shirt somewhere behind you and pressed your lips back to your boyfriend’s, guiding his hands to your chest at the same time. Daryl cupped your breasts and his fingers slipped up and through your bra straps, letting them fall off your shoulders.

The way he was kissing you was something you hadn’t felt from him before. He was basically fucking your mouth with his tongue, making your mind race with thoughts of how good he’d probably be at using his tongue somewhere else. You rolled your hips against his, grinding onto his dick as he moaned into your mouth. He reached his hands around your back and fumbled for a minute with your bra strap.

You chuckled a little into his mouth, pulling away just an inch.

“Do you need help, baby?”

He sighed and nodded, clearly frustrated.

“ ‘s okay,” you reassured him, reaching behind yourself to unclip the bra.

Daryl’s eyes fell from yours to your chest as you brought his hands to the material, wanting to give him the privilege of being the one to take it off you.

He looked back at you for reassurance and you nodded slightly to give him the green light. He held the straps in his fingers and delicately started to drag them down your arms, caressing your skin with his touch. The cups fell down and your bra was discarded wherever your shirt had been. Daryl’s jaw fell just a little and he took in the sight of your bare chest, his breathing heavy and his mouth wet with excess saliva, nearly drooling for you.

“Fuckin’ beautiful,” he finally heaved out, immediately lurching forward and suctioning his lips to your nipple.

His actions made you gasp, tugging on his hair again in surprise. This made him moan, open mouth to your chest. You imitated his noises unintentionally as he continued to softly nip, lick and suck at your breasts.

“D-Daryl, I- “ you couldn’t speak coherently. Every part of you was overwhelmed by him in the best way possible.

“Hm?,” Daryl spoke in between latching his mouth all over you, “you wanna say somethin’, princess? That feel good?”

You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips at his teasing words, “uh-huh, y-yeah.”

“So pretty for me…” his words trailed off and he kissed up your neck and back to your mouth.

When you finally pulled away from each other, you saw the mess he had made of your boobs: shiny with spit and covered in light purple and red splotches.

“Jesus,” you chuckled, pushing your fallen hair out of your face.

Daryl stared up at you on his lap, breathless from not only kissing you but from the sight of you. You were beautiful, always, but like this? Ethereal. Other- worldly, with your hair a mess from his hands tangled in it and your chest marked up and wet with his spit. He wanted to say it then, the three words he’d been trying to hold back, afraid to scare you off and away from him. So he bit his tongue, gripping your hips a little tighter and dragging you over the tent in his jeans, determined to distract from his feelings.

You grabbed him by the collar of his old button down flannel and kissed him passionately, once again lapping into his mouth with your tongue. Your unsteady fingers worked at the top button of his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours. Down, down, down, as Daryl was still grinding himself up into you, you unbuttoned his shirt and pushed the fabric from his broad shoulders. When you tried to pull it off, however, he froze his movement and grabbed your wrists to stop you.

You were surprised, suddenly a little embarrassed and sheepish.

“I’m- I’m sorry, Daryl, do you wanna stop? We can, If you w-” you started to reassure him, but he cut you off.

“No, no, ain’t that, I want it - want you,I just..” his eyes broke from yours, looking nervously around the floor, “you remember I told you ‘bout when I was a kid… all that shit my dad did to me and my brother. Left a lot of scars…all on my back.”

You could tell he was trying hard to push out his words, like they had a bitter taste. You brought your hands to his face, gently cupping his cheeks and bringing his head up a little, forcing him to look at you.

“Daryl, baby, there’s not a thing you have to hide from me. I like you as you are, scars included. There isn’t a thing about you I think I could find unattractive. I like everything about you.”

This wasn’t just something you said to make him feel better. Truly, you loved every detail there was to Daryl Dixon. His calloused hands, scruffy facial hair, broad frame. The way he kissed you, held you, made you laugh. The way he made you feel safe, untouchable, like the most beautiful creature to bless earth. You could talk about nothing and everything and at the same time sit for hours on end in silence, just enjoying each other’s company.

From underneath your gaze, your soft words made Daryl’s heart flutter the same way it had on that first date, the picnic in the park where you kissed him so sweetly. He believed you wholeheartedly. You, if anyone, would always be the person he could open up to.

Again, those heavy three words weighed on his tongue, nearly escaping his lips when he thought over what you had said. And again, he pushed it down in an almost cartoonishly loud swallow of his saliva.

Wordlessly, afraid he’d let his tongue slip, Daryl guided your hands from his face back to where they had been on his shirt, urging you to carry on as before. You did, gently pulling at the fabric as he shrugged it off and let you toss it somewhere in the room.

Your lips attached to his and the feeling of your warm skin on his chest was addictive like those cigarettes he always bought from you, inhaling the smell of you just the same.

You let your hands roam over his broad shoulders, down his muscular arms, back up again and down his chest. You teasingly dragged your fingers in a feather light touch right above his jeans, making him buck his hips forward and shudder.

“God damn, woman, ain’t gotta go teasin’ me like that,” he huffed, shaking his hair out of his eyes.

“No? C’mon, baby, it’s fun. You like it.”

He did, admittedly, really fucking like it. He especially liked the back and forth between the both of you being dominant and submissive.

You repeated your touch that made him shudder in the first place and dragged your hand to palm his cock over his jeans. He gripped your hips, diggin his fingers into the soft flesh.

“P-Please,” Daryl whimpered your name, “ ‘need you, need you so bad, dream ‘bout you-“

With one touch, he’d really become a mess for you.

“You dream about me? What do I do in your dreams, hm?” You spoke softly with your lips to his ear, hand still gently stroking back and forth.

He groaned, grinding himself into your hand and trying to pant out a response, “dream ‘bout your hands on me, your mouth, d-dream ‘bout bein’ in ya’, makin’ you - makin’ you cum.”

His words went straight to your core, starting a throbbing in you.

“You wanna make me feel good?” Your taunt had him nearly shaking, eagerly nodding his head and licking his lips.

“So what do you wanna do to me?” You spoke again, leaning back and removing your hand from his aching cock.

The ball was in his court now and he knew it was a purposeful throw to try to get him off his game. Thankfully, he knew damn well what he wanted to do to and with you, having worked himself to the thought of it almost every other night since you’d started seeing each other.

“Take off your pants. Sit in the chair.”

Daryl’s words made your stomach erupt in butterflies and you nearly fell off him to do as you were told, kicking off your shoes and socks and stripping off down to your underwear.

“Those, too.”

You, again, abided by his words and hooked your fingers into the waistband of your underwear, dragging them down and kicking them elsewhere.

Your lover took a moment to admire your body, every curve and mark and inch of you. He sighed happily, and motioned for you to sit back in the chair you had been in before. You did, crossing your legs in anticipation. You watched Daryl move from the chair and get down on his knees in front of you, hands gently placed on your crossed thighs.

“Can I?” He asked, gravely voice almost lined with desperation.

You realized what he was asking, your face growing pink and eyes wide as you sheepishly nodded, letting Daryl’s hands gently guide your thighs open for him.

He let out a low groan at the sight of you, slick with want for him, your inner thighs wet and glistening just from rubbing your legs together.

He’d never done this before, but god - he thought about it - so often he was pretty sure he was ready to at least try.

Before you could even get your hands in his hair, Daryl was attaching his lips to your pussy, eagerly licking wide stripes up you and sucking on your clit when he found it. He ate you like he was starved for days.

“D-Daryl, I-“, you wanted to tell him to slow down, but his tongue was faster than yours.

He hummed from between your legs, using his buff arms to lift both your thighs up onto his shoulders, cradling his head between them.

“Feel good? Huh?” He muttered when he finally broke away from you for a moment and licked his lips, already wet and shiny.

“Little slower, baby, you’re gonna make me cum too soon,” you huffed out, looking down into his vivid blue eyes.

“What do you think I’m down here for?” He joked, kneading your thighs with his hands, “besides, ain’t like it’s gonna be the only time tonight. You think you got more than one in ya’?”

His teasing intensified the fire in your lower abdomen, your hands coming to his hair again to softly tangle it between your fingers.

Daryl returned his tongue to your clit, licking in circles and sucking the sensitive bundle of nerves. Truth be told, he had no idea if he could really even make you cum once, but he couldn’t help but keep up with the cocky dirty talk because of how much it seemed to turn you on. Now, he was on a serious mission to make you come completely undone for him twice in one night. The thought of it alone made his cock twitch in his jeans, feeling awfully tight.

You continued to play with his hair as he lapped at you, so lost in the feeling of euphoria that you weren’t giving a thought about the noise you were making. You mewed and moaned and gasped as he kept his mouth on and in you, pushing his tongue as much as he could into the shallow part of your hole. This really hit a nerve, sending a loud, broken moan through your throat. You couldn’t help the gasp of his name, still gently caressing his temples with his hair in your hands.

He mimicked your moan, hot breath fanning you and tongue still in your pussy. He kept up his movements after, digging his fingers into your thighs everytime you yanked his hair harder. The more pressure he applied with his lips and tongue and the faster he licked and sucked at you, you felt the pressure building in your stomach.

“I-I’m, Daryl, I’m gonna-“ you tried to sputter out but your own moan snuck its way through, the heat in your abdomen almost unbearable.

He just hummed into you, letting you yank his hair and push and pull his head as you pleased - whatever it took to get you there for him.

Finally you felt the knot in the bottom of your stomach come undone, squeezing your eyes shut tight and whining Daryl’s name, littered with obscenities. The euphoric feeling tingled throughout your body from head to toe. Where his hands and lips met you felt like fire.

You tried to regain your senses as he didn’t slow his movement, still sucking and licking at your sensitive clit.

“Babe, mh - babe, please, I- I’m too s-sensitive” you pleaded, trying to tug his head away as he pulled you closer by your thighs. He felt so accomplished and smug with himself for making you cum for him that he didn’t want to stop pulling those noises from you.

After a second he finally let you go and licked his lips, wet along with his chin from your arousal. He lovingly caressed your thighs as you steadied your breathing, legs shaking on his shoulders.

“So beautiful,” he huffed out, scanning your features with his cerulean blue eyes, “I could do that all day.”

“Yeah? We can arrange that.” You joked, letting him gently place your thighs back onto the chair as you sat up a little.

He stood from his knees and you took notice of the large bulge in the front of his jeans, that of which had been twitching and aching with every moan from your lips.

You drew your eyes from his erection to his abdomen, up his muscular bare chest and broad shoulders, all the way to his swollen pink lips and lustful gaze he had upon you.

He swore he could feel the wet patch forming on the front of his boxers at the way you sized him up, looking at him like you practically wanted to fucking eat him.

He’d let you, really.

“I want you, all of you.” you finally spoke, reaching forward and pulling Daryl closer by the belt loop of his jeans. With your other hand, you began to palm the front of his jeans, eyes never leaving his.

He gasped at your touch, hands flying to tangle themselves in your hair. You slowly started to unbutton his jeans, looking for any sign that he wanted you to stop. When he bucked his hips forward, you got your answer, pulling down his zipper and gently tugging at the fabric. Daryl assisted and kicked off his shoes, socks and jeans. He leaned down after he did so to lift you up by your thighs and onto the top of the desk. You yelped and giggled at the sudden movements and let him stand between your legs, placing open mouthed kisses down your jaw and neck. He experimentally ground his hips into yours, his cock centered with your throbbing folds. You whined, the fabric of his boxers feeling especially rough on your sensitive bundle of nerves. It became soaked through from the both of you, being the only layer of fabric left that separated you.

“You wan’ me to take you here, love you right? ‘Like hearing those pretty moans a’ yours.” Daryl was muttering into your neck, sucking red and purple marks so he could show any prick you were all his.

“M-hmm-“ you gasped, nodding eagerly and rolling your hips into his, letting him grip your ass and pull you closer, “ - want you, I want you to have me right here, Daryl.”

Your pleading made his cock leak even more and he couldn’t take it, pulling back from you momentarily to yank down his boxers and kick them away.

You watched his hard on slap against his lower stomach, pink and leaking tip twitching at the release. Your mouth practically watered, wanting to take him in your mouth.

As he gripped your hips again you reached for his cock but he flinched, grabbing your wrist.

“I- Sorry, sorry - “ you started to apologize in panic but Daryl shook his head, dropping his grip to cup your face.

“No. No, ain’t like that, ‘course I want you to touch me - but I’m not gonna get to please ya’ any good if im cummin’ in your pretty hand instead of your pretty pussy, huh?”

His gentle demeanor, reassurance and absolutely filthy praise made you blush red, nodding meekly as he stroked your cheeks with his thumbs. He placed a loving kiss on your forehead, then your nose, cheeks, chin and finally your lips, swallowing the giggle that had been slipping between them.

His leaking tip was so close to you he could practically feel the heat radiating off your folds. You wanted to pull him in by the hips and let him slip into you, fill you to the brim and make you whine and plead until you came apart for him in his hands.

“You sure you want this?” Daryl asked, reassuringly stroking the tops and sides of your thighs, “I’m nearly itchin’ for it but you know if you wanna stop sweet ‘eart, you can tell me.”

His sweet reassurance made your heart melt, warm and sticky and ooey - gooey all at your lover’s words.

“I want you more than anything - “ you replied, stroking fallen strands of hair off his face and behind his ear, “ - I’ve thought about it since the day we met.”

Your admission made his heart sore and he used his hand to hold his heavy member up to your hole, tracing the sensitive entrance with his wet tip.

“Fuck, thought about -” Daryl couldn’t help the rut of his hips, “- thought about it for so long, how you’d feel. Wanted to bend you over that damn counter and take you right there.”

You twitched involuntarily at the shift of his hips and gasped, moving a hand down to notch him right up against you.

He experimentally pushed his hips forward, slowly starting to stretch his head into the shallow part of you.

Pornographic moans fell from your mouth as he slipped in further and you scratched lightly at his back and hips, feeling the decadent burn and subsequent pleasure of Daryl pushing himself further into you until he bottomed out.

“Feel ok? Does that hurt?’’

You shook your head, grinding your hips forward in an attempt to swallow more of him.

He took your answer and began slowly pulling in and out of you, trying to rock himself steadily so as not to push too hard and hurt you.

You hooked your legs around his hips and used them as a vice to keep him close to you, pulling him in every time he thrusted forward. You wrapped your arms around his neck and stroked his back and shoulders, kissing him affectionately as he continued fucking in and out of you at a steady, teasingly slow pace.

“Daryl, please, faster, baby.” You huffed out, swiping fallen strands of dark brown hair out of his face.

“ ‘m tryin’ not to cum so - so damn fast, you feel so fuckin’ good.” He slurred out, gripping your hips so hard he’d leave crescent shaped marks where his dull fingernails had been digging into your soft skin.

He truly was, too enamored of you and the way you felt and so lost in your eyes that he needed to concentrate on lasting for you, determined to finish you off first for a second time.

The feeling of his tip hitting that perfect spot in you had you feeling full to your stomach, relishing in the way his pelvis rubbed up to your clit when he filled you.

Taking notice of that, Daryl watched your face contort in pleasure as he slipped one of his hands between the two of you and began to rub at your swollen clit, applying more pressure every time he was pressing you into the desk with his hips. He let a string of expletives slip from his lips as he shut his eyes, concentrating on both holding his release and helping you to yours.

He slipped his thick fingers down to where his cock was buried in you and back up again, slick with your arousal. He circled his ring finger around your clit and swiped the bundle of nerves, nearly buckling at the knees when you moaned his name.

“You like that, huh?” He asked, testing how you’d like the way he muttered into your ear and if it would push you any further. He nipped at your earlobe with his teeth, satisfied in the rising goosebumps on your skin and the gasp you let fall from your lips.

“Fuck - feels so good, please,” you huff as daryl picks up his pace and starts to knock the breath out of you with every rut of his hips, “don’t stop.”

He abided your command, continuing his pace and still squeezing his eyes shut to hold back from filling you with his hot cum. The scruff on his chin scratched delightfully against your neck and cheek as he rocked back and forth.

“M- ‘m gonna cum, babe, I’m-“ you tried to warn him, in too much pleasure to speak.

The pressure at the bottom of your stomach grew and your body felt hot all over. Daryl’s touch and the feeling of him hitting that sweet spot in you over and over again with a look of absolute ecstasy was too much for you to take, finally sending you over the edge.

You dug your fingernails into his broad shoulders and let out a string of expletives mixed with his name, panting and huffing as he fucked you through your climax. The room was filled with the sounds of your moans, Daryl’s whines and the wet gush of your pussy, swollen and delightfully sore.

Daryl let go the same time you had, releasing himself into you and letting his cum seep from you and onto your thighs as he fucked it into you. He had opened his eyes to watch you come undone, and as he’d thought it would, the heavenly sight brought him to his climax in just a couple strokes. His brain was clouded with only thoughts of you and the filter from his head to his mouth had disappeared. His lips moved faster than he could register and before he could stop himself, he was speaking.

“I love ya.”

The three words sounded foreign coming from his own mouth. He would’ve thought it was someone else, had he not recognized his own voice. He had stopped the rut of his hips, still buried in you and somehow now absolutely mortified at what had just come out of his mouth. He was wide eyed and tried to speak but was interrupted by your sweet smile.

“I love you, too. I love you, Daryl.” You sighed happily, heart pounding at his admission and from the vigorous activity you had both just partaken in.

He couldn’t help the smile that mirrored yours, anxiety dissipating when you spoke those words back to him. You’d never seen him smile so wide as he tenderly cupped your cheeks, pulling you in for an affectionate kiss that felt more loving than any way he’d kissed you before.

When he pulled away, he tucked some strands of your sweat-dampened hair behind your ear and stroked your cheek, holding in a sigh at the way you contentedly leaned your face into his touch.

You were lost in his adoring look and had completely forgotten where you two were, naked and sweaty up against a desk in the back of your work.

You gasped in a moment of realization.

“Shit, I locked the door an hour ago and haven’t done any paperwork work to get out of here!”

“You want some help cleaning’ up first, honey?”

You grinned at the affectionate nickname, twirling his dark hair in your fingers.

“Please? Then maybe we can go back to mine and cozy up for a bit?”

“Sounds good, sugar.” He replied, kissing you on the forehead and the tip of your nose. You mirrored each other's blissful smiles, lost in one another’s loving gazes.

“Daryl?”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

————

I hope that lived up to y’all’s expectations! Pls lmk what you think and if I should write some more stuffs :-) thank u for reading!

#daryl dixon #daryl dixion imagine #twd daryl #daryl x y/n #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixion smut #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead #norman reedus #daryl x you #daryl imagines #daryl fanfiction #smut #the walking dead smut

166 notes · View notes

rottentiger-art · 8 months

Note

Quogan with kids - Imagine how panicked/ridiculous Logan would be as Quinn’s water breaks and he has to drive her to the hospital. Or him holding her hand during labor and through the contractions.

I believe Logan would be overly attentive with Quinn's pregnancy, I think I mentioned before him buying whatever craving she has in bulks and make their friends/family rehearse what they have to do for the "big day" (yes, I am referencing Floricienta jajajja), but Quinn isn't far behind him.

I have some more headcanons for Quinn's pregnancy (I also have for them as parents, but then this post would be too long, so I'll leave that for another asks I got about the subject), remember this is settled in my Rebuilding PCA AU.

(had to divide this into sections bc there's an apparent limit for every list)

Finding out, to first Eco:

Despite having everything planned out, even when they were going to have children, the first baby came as a surprise.

I headcanon she took a test on her job. She had her suspicion about her symptoms, and had a doctor appointment in a few days, but she was too impatient to wait so she bought three pregnancy test (just to be sure) and took them on her job's bathroom.

But unexpected doesn't mean unwelcome. Quinn was very happy when she found out, definitely cried when she saw the two pink lines.

The thought of little baby, a mix of both her and Logan overwhelmed her with joy, unable to even worry if that might compromise her work at the moment.

Though she did think of it on her way home, she felt optimist. She acknowledge to herself that it will be hard and it will require more of her usual effort and focus, but she's Quinn Pensky-Reese! She's the mind of her generation, if anyone can handle an inventor's job, a school rebuilding and a pregnancy, that's her!

As soon as she got home, she went into her study and started organizing her schedule for the next months, in case the doctor confirmed it. Just to save time, time she would need later one, after all.

there was even more crying when the doctor told her that, yes, she was in fact pregnant. They settle a date for the first ecography.

Logan was the first one to know, of course. But Quinn waited until she had a doctor's confirmation before telling him, worried she'd get his hopes up only to end both disappointed.

I imagine she prepared a nice surprise dinner. He entered their home and found her waiting besides a candle lit table with his favorite dish. His first thought was wondering if he -somehow- forgot any important date, he even thinks "is it my birthday?".

But she reassured him before he even ask that she just wanted to surprise him. He notices she seems happier than usual, assuming she's about to tell him some really good news, (they know each other so well!!), tho he thinks it's probably related to the school renovation.

Her excitement took over and she couldn't wait until the end of the dinner, much to his relief because his curiosity was killing him.

She hands him a little gift box, and watches as his face changes, he goes from confusion as he opens it and takes a cute tiny PCA onesie, to realization. (note: the baby will be wearing that at some point, when Logan takes them to PCA, to show them the campus *cries*)

His eyes widens and he struggles to form words because he can't close his mouth. He's absolutely shocked.

Logan: "are you saying... we're having a baby?" and Quinn just nods excitedly, she also can't talk because she's already teary eyes.

Logan runs to hug her side, lifting her and spinning her around, so happy the protective dad mode hadn't kicked on yet lol.

He wants to tell everyone immediately, but she tells him it would be better to wait for the first eco, which would be after her first trimestre is completed, and explains to him all about those things (because you know she researched before the doctor appointment and also filled the doctor with questions lol)

He listens attentively because he wants to be aware about everything related to their little bundle of joy.

They're so annoying at the hospital for the eco, but the doctor is incredibly patient (bless them), despite them spilling question after question.

Quinn's scientific curiosity is in full swing as she bombards the ultrasound technician with a million questions about the technology and procedure.

Thankfully for the doctor, they shut up as soon as their baby shows up on the screen, as well as the first time they hear their heartbeat.

(little angsty headcanon: they were both terrified of not hearing a heartbeat, it made them anxious and afraid, they're first time parents after all, they're fucking scared *cries intensifies*)

As the doctor shows them the baby's hands and feet and nose and all that, Logan makes comments like "they're gonna have your nose!" or "oh, you're gonna be a such a heartbreaker, just like your dad"

He mostly tries to make Quinn laugh, and to ease both of their nervous.

The doctor asks if they want to know the gender of the bay, but they decide to save that for the baby shower, so they get it written down in an envelopment instead.

The technician offers to print out a few ultrasound pictures for them, where the gender of their baby could not be visible (already sensing these two would spend a lot of time looking at them and Quinn would definitely figure it out). Quinn practically squeals with delight, already envisioning how she'll document and cherish these precious snapshots. Logan grins, imagining himself showing off the pictures to anyone who will listen, beaming with pride.

As they leave the doctor's office, Quinn can't help but walk a little lighter, her hand resting protectively over her growing belly. Logan wraps an arm around her, pulling her close, his protective mode also activating on that moment

On the way home, they can't resist the urge to stop at a baby store. They fill the car with stuffed animals, and nursery decorations. They also pick out a few gender-neutral outfits, happily imagining their little one wearing them.

When they get home (after Logan settled all the heavy stuff they brought inside their home, because he's not letting her carry anything heavy ever again), they sit in the coach and spread the ultrasound pictures on the coffee table, looking at them and pointing little details they notice about their baby.

Announcement:

After indulging on this little moment, they finally call their friends and family to let them know the news. First their parents (Lyric was in the same room as Logan's parents, so she found out at the same time)

Their parent's are overjoyed, it's going to be the first grandchild in both families, with Quinn being an only child and Logan the first of Malcolm's children to be a parent (I'm still not sure Logan's older brother exist, but either way, first grandkid bc I say so), and at the end of the calls they promise to set a dinner to celebrate this news soon.

When Lyric hears the news, she raises an eyebrow and gives a nonchalant shrug, trying to maintain her composure. Deep down, however, she can't help but feel a surge of excitement and anticipation. She may not show it openly, but Lyric secretly starts researching the best auntie gifts and cool, trendy baby clothes. She's determined to be the "chillest" aunt, effortlessly blending her coolness with her newfound role.

Of their friends, the first to know were Lola and Michael, argue with the wall.

Lola squeals at the news, already declaring herself the best aunt this baby would have (Lyric would disagree if she was there, but whatever), she cracks a few jokes at Logan's expenses probably, I imagine their friendship still has that banter, like they pretend they still dislike each other. Something like, "I'm sure your baby will have enough of you to make up for the parts it gets from Logan" (english is failing me lol, but you get it), and tells them she would host the baby shower. Organizing event is still not much her thing, but she's too excited.

Michael is over the moon, and tells them he'd gladly conduct their baby shower, and tells them he already thought of baby names ideas. They tell them Lola already offered and he says he'll call her to let her help (Lola would probably let him do most of the job lol)

I just know this news would give Zoey and Chase another age/relationship crisis, but let's not focus on that for this. They're happy for their friends. They also offer to help with the baby shower, but Logan is quick to reject them lol. Though Quinn explains Michael and Lola are already on that, so they don't feel bad.

Pregnant Quinn:

Quinn becomes a walking encyclopedia during her pregnancy. She dives deep into researching every stage of fetal development and reads every book on pregnancy she can get her hands on. She's determined to understand every aspect of what's happening to her body and her growing baby.

Quinn's scientific mind goes into overdrive as she starts experimenting with various homemade remedies and concoctions to alleviate pregnancy symptoms

She creates her own natural remedies for morning sickness, swollen feet, and stuff, much to the amusement and amazement of her friends.

I like to keep a bit of the ridiculousness from the show into this, so I hc Quinn's pregnancy hormones send her emotions on a rollercoaster ride. She goes from crying over commercials to laughing uncontrollably at the slightest joke. Her friends and Logan learn to navigate this emotional whirlwind, providing comfort and support whenever she needs it.

Quinn's genius mind starts coming up with innovative inventions specifically designed for pregnancy. She designs a pillow that perfectly supports her growing belly while she sleeps, a wearable device that tracks fetal movements, and even a smart app that monitors her baby's health.

Her pregnancy cravings are a mix of the expected and the totally unexpected. One day, she craves pickles and ice cream, and the next, she insists on eating spaghetti with hot sauce and gummy worms.

As her due date approaches, Quinn becomes hyper-organized. She starts prepping freezer meals, organizing the nursery down to the tiniest detail, and even creating a hospital bag checklist for both her and Logan. She wants everything to be perfectly in place for their baby's arrival.

I like to thinks Quinn's love for science extends to documenting her pregnancy journey. She takes weekly belly pictures, meticulously tracks her weight gain, and even keeps a journal where she writes letters to her unborn baby. While she is treating it like a study, she also wants to capture every precious moment and memory for their little one to look back on.

Quinn's intelligence and curiosity lead her to attend every prenatal class their schedule allows, along with Logan ofc. She becomes the star student, asking insightful questions and even offering her own scientific explanations for certain topics. She kinda annoys the other parents on the classes, but the dirty look Logan gives the when they try to say something shuts them up.

Despite her scientific approach to pregnancy, Quinn also embraces the magical and emotional side of it all. She loves feeling her baby's kicks and hiccups, cherishes every ultrasound appointment, and eagerly awaits the moment she can hold her little one in her arms.

She loves talking to her baby, telling them about how their little body is developing and what awaits them and stuff.

She hopes their little one is a science fan like her, so she also tells them of science in general, specially while she works on her quinnventions, explaining the process to her belly.

No matter how many research she went through, the birth terrifies her, truth be told. She's a first time mother after all, how could she not. The thoughts of all the things that could go wrong filling her mind.

But she endures it, holding tight to Logan's hand. She keeps pushing and pushing until they finally hear the baby's cry.

All the pain and fear melting away the moment he baby is placed in her arms, she cries happily as she caresses their cheeks and coos at them, calming the babies' crying.

the sobbing doesn't stop even when the baby calms down and the doctors take them away to clean them and weight them, neither her or Logan taking their eyes off their child, even when he leans down to kiss her forehead, whispering sweet words at her.

Daddy-to-be Logan:

From the moment Quinn tells Logan she's pregnant, he can't contain his excitement. He starts researching everything about pregnancy and parenting, creating boards filled with nursery ideas, baby names, and parenting hacks.

He creates an elaborate color-coded pregnancy planner. It includes doctor's appointments, prenatal classes, and even a detailed birth plan. He wants everything to be perfectly planned and scheduled for the arrival of their little one.

He takes it upon himself to fulfill every single one of her cravings. He becomes her "master chef", whipping up all sorts of weird food combinations she asks for, even if it means making a peanut butter and pickle sandwich at 3 a.m.

Logan insists on attending every doctor's appointment with Quinn, taking copious notes and asking the doctor a million questions. He's determined to be the most involved and informed dad ever.

As Quinn's baby bump grows, Logan becomes the ultimate protector. He's constantly fretting over her well-being, making sure she doesn't lift heavy objects, and even wrapping her in bubble wrap (metaphorically) to ensure nothing happens to their little one.

Logan starts talking to Quinn's baby bump, telling stories, singing lullabies, and even playing his favorite songs. He's convinced the baby can hear him and wants to establish a bond before they even arrive.

But he does not neglects Quinn, he pays just as much attention to her.

When it comes to baby shopping, Logan goes all out. He insists on buying the most comfy and safe stroller, the comfiest crib, and the cutest baby clothes. He spends hours meticulously researching and comparing products, determined to provide the best for his little family.

Logan becomes a master at assembling baby furniture... after many fails. He spends countless afternoons putting together the crib until he figures out how that thing works, changing tables, and rocking chairs. He'd usually hire someone to do the job for him, but he wanted to do this himself, no matter how frustrating it became, it was worth it.

As Quinn's due date approaches, Logan becomes a nervous wreck. He's constantly checking his phone, ready to rush to the hospital at a moment's notice. He even has a fully packed hospital bag prepared for both Quinn and himself, complete with snacks, a change of clothes, and a camera to capture every moment.

When the day finally arrives, Logan is a ball of nerves and excitement. He paces the hospital waiting room, wearing a path into the floor, until finally, he gets the news that Quinn is in labor.

He practically sprints to her side, holding her hand and whispering words of encouragement throughout the whole process.

And when their little bundle of joy finally enters the world, Logan's heart swells with love and pride. He can't help but cry tears of joy, overwhelmed with emotions as he holds his baby for the first time, promising to be the best dad they could ever ask for.

It's definitely the happiest day of their life, and once home, they can hardly take their eyes off their baby, so thankful to have them there, unable to contain the infinite amount of love their feel for them.

And that's most of my quogan pregnancy headcanons, hope you liked them.

#ask box #anon #quogan #zoey 102 #zoey 101 #logan reese #quinn pensky #quinn x logan #quogan baby #rebuilding PCA au #(kinda. it's settled there)#quogan headcanons

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writteninlunarlight-years · 1 day

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hi lunaaa i was wondering if u could do a character mashup for harry potter marauders era?

i’m female she/they and i am bi

i’m black i have dark brown eyes and long lower-back length braids. i have a long head but really high cheekbones. i’m 5’3” (160 centimeter). i have a small frame and a larger chest. i loveee to dress super girly (almost cottagecore or coquette) but i often time time find myself looking and acting a bit masculine

INFP(MBTI) and 9w1(Enneagram)

quiet, reserved , very private and don’t like to open up to people until i know them VERY well, sensitive, emotional, empathetic, self-effacing, good at giving advice, listener, my friends are very loud because i am so quiet(ying/yang), daydreamer

i LOVE photography, i love fashion and bows, i love gold and pearled jewelry, i love cherries and any kind of pasta, billie eilish, singing, science, online shopping, stuffed animals, baking

i hate hypocrisy, i hate food waste, i don’t like confrontation or arguing, i don’t liek tomatoes, i don’t like waiting(impatient), learning history, the sun/bright lights bc i’m practically a vampire

i have a really messed up family and i’m terrified of losing relationships or people i love even though i feel like i am 24/7(attachment issues) 🙂❤️‍🩹 i also love fighting hunger and food waste

sry that was a lot

~~~~~ MATCH UP ~~~~~

Before we dig into this one, I want everyone to hear me out. I am a massive fan of the opposites attract trope, which states that when you are with your opposite, you even each other out.

With that in mind, Anon, I pair you with------

James Potter

This man is loyal to a fault, has massive golden retriever energy, is a total hype king, and is a fantastic listener.

~~~~~ HEADCANON ~~~~~

When he first fell for you and tried to ask you out, you shot him down. I mean, he is a loud stereotypical jock guy.

This didn't stop him from asking all of your friends about you and learning about all your hobbies, likes, dislikes, and getting advice on how to be a better man for you.

He made it his personal goal whenever you were around to show that he wasn't always a loud, egotistical jerk.

When you finally gave him a chance, he pulled out all the stops. Not only did he take you to the nicest place in Hogsmeade, but he also took you to pick out all your favorite snacks and treats.

James loves all of your outfits you come out with, he is a hype king through and through. Though he keeps his excitement to himself when you are present so as not to embarrass you the minute you are not by his side, he is either telling his friends how cute you are or showing off the picture of you he keeps on him.

During a heated conversation between you and Sirius about Quidditch and how "a pretty girl" cannot play it, James took it upon himself to teach you.

You were surprisingly good at the game; he found it the most drop-dead gorgeous thing.

If his friends are being too loud and chaotic and he sees you getting uncomfortable, he will shush them down and change the topic to something you can join in on.

Man is convinced you are the woman he will marry, so he does everything he can to show you how much you mean to him daily.

~~~~~ BLURB ~~~~~

It was a lovely spring day at Hogwarts. With the year ending and summer break around the corner, everyone was so invested in finishing their exams. However, you can only do so much studying before you grow too bored. This led to you and the Marauders setting up a magic camera outside next to the Whomping Willow.

It was decided that you would pick everyone's outfits for the shoot, Lilly would do everyone's makeup, Sirius would knick the camera from his family home, and the other boys would convince the house elves to 'donate' some food for your afternoon out. Once everyone reconvened and got ready, the photoshoot could begin.

Picture after picture was taken, everyone goofing off and laughing at one another poses. Some photos were nicely done, whereas most were just you guys being goofy. As the photoshoot ended and your stomach growled, James walked up to you nervously. "Hey, Y/N, could we take a couple more pictures? Just me and you." You nodded eagerly and returned to the spot you were initially at. You heard a loud "Ready" from Sirius as you got ready to pose with James. As you turned, you saw James holding a big bouquet of flowers.

The photo that was captured was nothing less than ethereal. James was slightly bent while handing you flowers. Someone threw petals up around you two, and your smiles were infectious. Once Sirius had all the photos printed, this specific picture of you and James became the hallmark of your relationship. Not only because it was unique, but it's the only photo James will show to anyone willing to listen about his favorite girl.

~~~~~ EXTRA ~~~~~

(You and James were perusing around Diagon Ally. As you came across a new jewelry story)

Y/N: Oh, James, let's go in there. I bet there is something pretty I can match with my new outfit.

James: They have plenty of exquisite jewels for a reasonable price.

(you two looked around, and your eyes landed on a gold necklace with pearls sparsely through it. Though the tag was too much, and you began to walk out)

Y/N: ah, if only it was meant to be.

James: What, Y/N, you mean this? (James pulls out the necklace you were eyeing, placing it around your neck) Only the best for my love.

#harry potter x reader #marauders x reader #harry potter #x reader #james potter x reader #james potter #maurders era #marauders era #the marauders #mauraders #match up #headcanon

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seelestia · 2 years

Note

LIAAAAA i missed you terribly but i am glad you're checking in to let us know you're okay!! life happens, but it's always nice to see you around from time to time <3 i hope things are settling down now or at least soon? don't forget to take breaks and eat your meals and drink your water!!!

good thing that i always have him out whenever exploring these days, hope he's enjoying this 'retirement' life-

polearm users = hot, handsome, beautiful, gorgeous. i don't make the rules /j sldkjflsjdkf YES zhongli's charge attack is so 👌🏻💯 he executes it so flawlessly i love love love him it

ofc zhongli will win he's got his wife cheering him on with a humongous banner and his adoptive son (begrudgingly) waving his lightsticks /j

i will be impatiently waiting until he becomes playable hehehe

.... w a i t i feel dumb now act 4 isn't the end of sumeru?? sheesh. hoyoverse's mass recruiting is really showing its impact now huh ;))

him patting you when you proudly present the full basket of fresh juicy strawberries hehehe <3 imagine if one day you found abandoned puppies on your walk and you bring them home to ayato, who disapproved at first (untrained unruly little pups? what if they mess up his paperworks and disturb the workers from doing their job?) but when he sees you and the numerous pairs of beady eyes looking up at him.... he just melts lol camera pans out and zooms at ayaka and thoma who are shaking their heads, one giggling and the other muttering how 'waka is so whipped'

yeah that scene hurtssss ;w; i just want to shove them onto a sofa and tell them to shake hands and hug it out. and they're gonna do it every single day until they talk things out and repair their relationship >:|

i'm v v glad you liked it!!! AND I AM HUGGING THAT FANART TO MY HEART SLFJSLJFLS ZHONGLI MY LOVE MY DARLING AAAAA those eyes and that expression this is foul play my hearttttttttt 😭

enjoy the gameeee <3 though it doesn't have ayato or heizou in it i hope you'll at least enjoy childe's route <3

oh what a coincidence bc that word also describes you perfectly??? 🧐

also i saw the speed matchmaking and i will be 'dialing' that number soon hehehe <3

rin jieeee, it is always a good hit to my heart to know that my presence is missed <3 my time on tumblr has really been limited lately, so much so i didn't have the time to be active on my priv... hnghh, outrageous !! >:( and ty for the reminder, i actually got myself a mug of hot cocoa with me, hehe.

ah, yes, zhongli enjoying the retirement life and osmanthus wine-ing until a red hilichurl suddenly charges at him. what a measly little thing... tendou bansho. (⁠｢⁠`⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠)⁠｢ 𒆙 (/j)

so trueee, polearms users >>> !! now, care to tell us what you think about the general mahamatra... in general (get it? ehe, hehe, aha *goblin snicker* /j)? 👀🎙️ i, for one, thinks he's quite neat! i won't spoil anything abt him in the archon quest, but he is quite principled and straightforward. cyno often has this lingering serious aura abt him, but he also has this hidden gentleness to him?? and not to mention, his fondness for jokes and puns too LOLLL his aloof exterior also reminds me of our beloved yaksha a little bit, hehe.

now that you say that, i just realized that darn, sumeru's story is really going past act 4. but i'm vv excited to see how everything unravels, especially with what is about to happen with scara 🤫 AND I JUST SAW THAT YOU FINALLY STARTED THE SUMERU QUEST ACT III !! looking forward to your comments about it, huehue >:)

noooo, the headpats, my weakness?! help, i might as well discard the basket just to lean into his hand jfjwkrkke yeahhh, give in to the beady puppy eyes !! rin jie, hand me my eyedrops, i need them to make the puppy eyes more convincing, ahem. (/j)

ikr?? i hope hoyoverse will do more events with character elaborations/developments like this in the future! kinda like dlc's that are nothing too lore-heavy (since i personally think heavy lore belongs in permanent quests, not temporary ones), hehe. AND YES, I WILL ENJOY YOUR GAME !! i haven't played it yet, but i already know i'm gonna enjoy it lots <3 and the way you knew if there's no ayato or heizou, it'd be tortellini. fjejdkks

psst, one more fanart to lose your mind over, nyehehe. having a chat over tea with zhongli at mount aocang !! cloud retainer is eyeing the two of you and gossiping this to shenhe later (/j)

#but i can never embody the word 'talent' as best as you can !! uno reverse hehe i am vv proud of you (/g)#and i'd definitely have fun finding you a sweetheart! <3 zhongli gege don't be angry this is only for funsies (/lh)#ask box! 📬#visitor: dearest rin! 💠

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lostaurorax · 3 years

Text

from three to five?

pairing | stucky x pregnant!reader

summary | reader finds out she’s pregnant and tells the boys but they all get suprised in the end

warnings | pregnancy and indication of smut

a/n | hi my darlings!!!!! i love stucky with all my heart and wrote this bc i thought it would be super cute! i apologize if their are any mistakes about the pregnancy thing and the ultrasound stuff because quite frankly i know absolutely NOTHING about pregnancy except the basic stuff that everyone knows. anyway i hope you enjoyed this as much as i did writing it!! reblogs and feedback is greatly appreciated <3 feel free to send in requests!!

the minute you found out you were pregnant you couldn’t wait to tell your husbands knowing how happy they would be from countless amounts of times they told you they had wanted to have kids especially with you.

after a romantic dinner that wanda and nat had thoroughly helped you plan you had come back home to the compound eager for your boys to find out the surprise.

as you walked into the living room wanda and nat were sitting their talking

“ah your back! so how was the date!” wanda said when she noticed your presence

“it was great! we’re gonna call it a night. we’ll see you ladies in the morning.” steve said as he grabbed three water bottles from the fridge and waved to the girls

“good to hear! good night..” nat said winking at you when the boys had turned their backs to them confirming it was all set

“god my feet are killing me!” you said as you took your shoes off and continued walking down the hall to your bedroom

“yeah? change out of that dress and me and stevie will run you a bath alright doll?” bucky said placing his hand on your back as steve was twisting the handle on the door

“okay buck” you said smiling knowing that probably wasn’t going to happen

as steve flicked the light switch on his foot steps came to a halt causing bucky to bump into him

“hey wh-” bucky said before realizing why steve had stopped

their was a bunch of blue and pink balloons scattered around the room, two pregnancies tests lying on the bed with a poster board that said ‘barnes-rogers baby coming soon…’ on it

as the boys turned back to look at you to confirm if what they were seeing was a dream or not it was immediately confirmed when they saw the wide smile on your face

“suprise!!”

after neither of them said anything for a minute or two you turned to walk in front of them

“hey is something wrong?” you said as your mind was racing with scenarios in which they weren’t happy that you were pregnant

as you were about to say something else both boys wrapped their arms around you and you swore you’d never felt more safe

“nothings wrong sweetheart nothing at all. it’s just we’ve dreamed of this day for so long and we can’t believe it’s actually happening.” bucky said as you felt a warm tear hit your face from his

“we love you doll so so much, and we can’t wait to raise a baby with you.”

“yeah?” you said pulling away from the hug to look at them with red noses and tear stained eyes

“yeah” they said in sync just admiring you

it didn’t last long until you were all attacking eachother like hungry animals

the next morning you woke up with two super soldiers on top of you one with his hand on your stomach and one with his hand on your boob

you couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight

as you tried slipping from beneath them to start to get ready you were stopped when weight was pressed on too you and multiple pleas were heard

“doll where are you going? it’s too early stay in bed” steve said as he nuzzled his head into your neck

“stevie we have to get ready.” you said stroking his hair through your fingers still a knotted mess from last night

“ready for what?”he said as you felt his eyebrows knit against your neck

“i have a ultrasound appointment scheduled for today.” you said knowing that would wake the both of them up

and it did like two children on christmas morning

“i’ve got breakfast!” bucky said as he kissed you on the cheek and slipped on some joggers to exit the room

“i’ll start getting ready.” steve said as he ran to the bathroom leaving you their giddy at the idea of your boys being this excited for your tiny human that wasn’t even born yet. imagining what they’d be like when it was born.

it took about two hours for you all to be ready and out of the house with a few arguments on why you shouldn’t drive and they should you ended up winning because they had no idea where the doctors office you went to was.

after about a 20 minute drive you had arrived at the doctors office checking in you all sat in the waiting room until your name was called. as you watched bucky and steve’s face all you could see was nervousness in their eyes as they looked around at all the pregnant moms and how different they all looked. some were earlier on in their trimester some were at the very end.

“you okay?” you asked them placing a hand on each of their knees

“hm yeah yeah we’re good! doing fine doll.” bucky said steve nodding in agreement

“alright we’ll their about to call my name so i wanna make sure your alright to head in their…” you said with a grin on your face

“we’re fine just a little nervous!”steve said kissing your cheek

after 5 minutes had past of you and the boys talking about baby names and you repeatedly telling them the baby would not be named ‘buckeve’ which was a name they had made up between a combination of their names your name had finally been called

“y/n?”

in usion your heads all turned to the voice and stood up

“it’s nice to see you all! please follow me!” the nurse said

you followed her to the room and listens to the instructions she gave you

“okay so your doctor is with any other patient right now but he should be too much longer so what i’m gonna have you do is sit tight for a few minutes and he’ll come in and set you up okay?”

with a nod of your head and a smile the nurse left telling all you have to enjoy the rest of your day and that she hopes everything goes well.

a knock on the door had halted your conversation with the boys

“come in!” you said

“we’ll hello y/n! how are you doing?” the doctor with the gray hair and winkled face said as he smiled at you

“hi! i’m doing well thank you! these are my husbands james and steve!” you said motioning to the men on the right of you as they waved

“ah well it’s nice to meet you! are you excited to see your baby for the first time?” he said as he started setting up his equipment

“yes very excited! a little nervous though.” steve said placing his hand on the back of your beck a gesture he would do that made you feel protected

“oh well i promise there’s nothing to be nervous about! everything will be just fine. now y/n can you pull your shirt up so i can place this cream on your stomach?” he said

“yeah of course!” you said lifting your shirt

“alright this is gonna be a litte cold just wanna warn you!” he said as he went to place the cream on your stomach

“oh yeah that’s cold!” you said as he placed the cream all over your stomach

“sorry about that! alright let me get this all set up so we can see your baby!” he said grabbing the wand part of the ultrasound machine

as the doctor got the machine working he explained to you what he was gonna be doing so you could somewhat understand what was going on.

“alright let’s see here! welp that’s your baby their on the screen! your very early on so it’s only the size of maybe a pea now but it’ll definitely grow quickly!” he said as tears filled your eyes and the boys both stared at the screen in awe

“hang on a minute..” the doctor said immediately wiping the look of joy on your face and replacing it with worry

“is something wrong sir?” bucky asked concerned

“no no nothings wrong! i just think i might’ve made a miscalculation that’s all.” he said giving any context

“and that miscalculation would be….” you said impatient

“looks like your having twins! congrats!!” he said with a massive smile on his face showing off his perfectly straight and white teeth

“twins??” bucky said in disbelief while you still couldn’t speak in utter shock and feeling like the happiest woman in the world

“oh my god…we’re gonna have twins!!” you said looking back at bucky and steve as the realization hit you.

“i’ll get these printed out and give you guys a bit of privacy. congratulations you three! these kids are so lucky to have you all.” he said as he walked out

you all sat their in shock and pure joy for what seemed to be forever before a noise was finally heard

you turned back to see bucky trying to wipe the tears falling from his eyes

“oh buck c’mere!” you said with open arms

“i’m sorry doll i’m just so happy. i never in my life would’ve thought anything like this would happen to me. this is the happiest day of my life! you both make me so happy! i just love you so much doll so so much.” he said sobbing into your neck

“i love you more bucky. i’m so proud of you.” you said rubbing his back as you mouthed ‘i’m proud of you too stevie’ to steve and he smiled knowing without you even having to tell him

as the day went on all the boys could talk about was your babies. what their names would be,their genders,how you would dress them,what their nursery would look like, just basically anything and everything.

you just admired the pure admiration on the boys faces as they talked about your children and you couldn’t believe how lucky you were.

#stucky ♡#pregnant!reader x stucky #stucky x pregnant reader #stucky x reader #stucky x you #stucky x y/n #stucky fluff #stucky smut #stucky angst #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel masterlist

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haruhey · 3 years

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Word count: 13k (i am SO SORRY i got carried away and this fic turned out SO FILTHY but i hit 300 followers so consider this a gift??)

Established Relationship Fluff | Smut

There’s only one bed shower, and Daryl Dixon is an opportunist.

the request:

every single fic of yours is seriously amazing. ur a great writer!! can i request a daryl shower smut bc wooweeeee

There’s always a giddiness inside Daryl when he returns from runs. No more sleeping in the RV for nights on end, no more eating cold canned chicken soup and - as much as he liked Aaron - no more hearing him talk about how much he missed Eric and making him miss you, too. He’s exhausted, his muscles sore from overuse, but the fact that you’re probably curled up in bed makes him so damn excited that all the ailments of his aging body are swiftly forgotten with each step he takes.

Houses fly by in a blur as he ramps up into a jog, his feet taking him to the dim light of a moving lantern in your shared bedroom window. By Daryl’s estimate, it couldn’t have been more than 10 or 11pm, but time meant little in the apocalypse - it was either dark out, or light and with the days getting shorter, he noticed you using the lantern more and more frequently. Just a few days ago, you had fallen asleep curled up on his chest, the soft orange light filling the room before he strained his body trying to turn it off without waking you. The next morning he had a terrible cramp running from his rib up to his bicep, but he never complained. Not even a wince in your presence since he thought the soreness was worth it. He would rather die several times over than lose the image he saw - of your pillowy lips taking soft, steady breaths of air while you slept against his bare skin.

Smiling, he lets himself remember the way you looked when he first gifted it to you, a grin that spread to the apples of your cheeks and crinkled at your eyes plastered on your face. It wasn’t a perfect replica, but it looked close enough to the one you would both light on nightwatches in the prison - which he thinks was when he first realized he loved you. Daryl also remembers the first night he saw you use it, the memory so vivid in his mind that he felt like if he reached out, the soft fabric of your pajamas would welcome his touch.

He could picture it now, your back against the headboard, reading one of the books that littered the shelves he never touches. Your face bathed in the lantern’s hue while your eyes scanned the pages and drinking in every word of whatever you were holding. He plucked that book right out of your hands that night and pulled you onto his lap, kissing the pout off your face until you weren’t annoyed at him anymore, rendered down to just laughing against his lips.

Fuck, he couldn’t wait to get home and see you again.

Daryl curses under his breath as he fumbles a little with the doorknob, but the profanities are quickly replaced with a huff of accomplishment as he practically sprints to the bedroom, boots shucked off haphazardly at the front door. He skips every other stair with long strides, desperate to feel you in his arms. When he enters the bedroom, he places his crossbow on the dresser and is surprised to see the room as dark as it is, the only source of illumination being the moon as it streams through the windows. The bed is empty and the blankets are strewn to your side, but neither you nor your pajamas are anywhere in sight. Panic flies through him before he registers the unmistakable sounds of the shower running, and he scoffs at himself when he sees the dim orange light peeking from beneath the bathroom door.

Had you known how worried he was for a second, you would have laughed at him. He was already so protective of you before the two of you got together, but it was another level entirely when you both made it official. It wasn’t just losing you to the dead anymore - it was also losing you to other people. Daryl knew you could take care of yourself, he had seen you hold your own on runs in the prison and trips outside the Alexandrian gates, but, God, if anything happened to you he wouldn’t know what to do. Being apart from you once when the Governor attacked was already almost too much for him to handle, but the thought of losing you and having to be okay with the fact you were never going to love him again? That was something he never wanted to experience.

Leaning against the wall, he pulls off his belt and places it next to his crossbow, his vest following not long after. The mattress squeaks slightly when he makes his way over to it and lies down, his body feeling almost instant comfort at the feeling of something other than the hard leather of his bike’s seat. Days like this made him think that maybe you were right in jokingly telling him that his motorcycle was a dumb choice for long runs - his tailbone was probably shaped like a rectangle from how long he’d been sitting on his ass.

A few moments pass as he allows himself to indulge in some rest, eyes closing and already in the first stages of a slumber before he shoots up, pushing himself to the edge of the mattress and sitting straight. Fuck, he needed to shower. He had given you his word that he would. Each time before he fell asleep after a run, he’d said; and Daryl Dixon was not one to break promises. Especially not to you.

Getting off the bed, he sheds his shirt and throws the old fabric onto the dresser, grimacing at the knowledge he would have to scrub at the dried walker blood come morning. His socks are next, pulled off by impatient hands and left on the floor, not even given a second glance as he then pulls open a drawer and grabs a pair of boxers from his meager pile. The only thought in his mind being the feeling of smooth sheets and your body against his skin. He’d pick up his clothes after his shower - if he could even muster up enough energy to.

Step by step, he makes it a good few feet out of the bedroom before he realizes the other second floor bathroom doesn’t work. If his memory served him correct, there were some plumbing issues and, before anyone could buy replacements, the world became, well, what it is now. After all, it was the only reason you and Daryl even took this house - nobody else wanted to have only one shower and, after becoming a couple, sharing one between two people didn’t seem all that bad. At least, that’s what he thought until now. Groaning, he rubs his eyes in an attempt to rub out the fatigue in them before his whole body lights up with an idea. Maybe he could have some fun with this. And if you asked, he could always blame the missing pipe or whatever it was that the Alexandrians couldn’t fix.

Practically thrilled, he mentally pats himself on the back and rushes back to the bedroom. Tired? Not anymore. Daryl can’t be if he wants to fulfill what just popped into his mind. Years of hunting leave his footsteps nearly silent when he enters the bathroom, but he’s not exactly at a disadvantage in terms of noise. The rhythmic beating of water against the tiled floor drowns out the slight squeak of the door as well as the hitching of his breath when he notices the gap. With how the room was designed, just standing at the door led his gaze in a nearly direct line of sight to you, the shower curtain lying an inch or two from the wall and offering him a vision which he doesn’t hesitate to indulge in.

It’s not like he's never seen your body - far from it, actually - but there was something about you that made him hesitate when it came to stuff like this. You deserved sweet and soft, affectionate with declarations of love between his kisses, and while he enjoyed giving that to you, sometimes he wanted something different. Sometimes Daryl wanted to act on impulse - to feel a different type of desperation - and tonight, he wanted to act out one of his long-hidden fantasies. One that involved you on many, many occasions.

Truthfully, he couldn’t fucking stop thinking about it since Merle and his buddies showed him that damn VHS as a hormonal high schooler. He never really had a committed girlfriend or anything like that to ever even pluck up the courage to ask, but that fantasy remained like a phantom in the back of his mind, lying just outside his finger’s reach. One that haunts him late at night and renders him withering in his own palm. At least, that was the case. Because he has you now and how he managed that? He didn't know. But he felt confident enough around you and trusted you enough to pursue the desire in him.

A shiver courses through him, running along the tip of his spine when he considers the possibility you might like it as much as him - and if you did, maybe he would divulge to you more of these secrets he’s always kept hidden so well.

With silent movements, Daryl unbuttons and unzips his jeans as he leans against the door of the bathroom, just barely suppressing a groan when his fingers graze the zipper. He curses himself, chastising his sensitivity at the mere image of you doing something as mundane as taking a shower, but he knew it was an inevitable consequence. Ever since the prison, anything you did got him riled up - even just seeing you sitting on his motorcycle made his skin light up with goosebumps. Left in only his boxers, he steps out of the denim pooling at his feet and picks it up, throwing it haphazardly onto the cream coloured counter as he waits for you to take notice of his presence. The metal button clashes against the smooth marble of the vanity, and its noises sound across the room, your eyes opening and your fingers catching the edge of the plastic curtain as you dart your head out, searching for the source.

Your body tenses up, no doubt the experience of living out on the road for so long, but the fighting instinct drains from you the moment you see the affectionate boyish grin playing on Daryl’s lips. It’s barely visible as he stands so far from the meager light source, but it sends an eager smile onto your face. Like all those times he’s returned to you, you want to run to him, feel his arms wrap around you and inhale his scent as you plant those incessant kisses he ‘hated’ everywhere on his face, but that urge only serves to remind you that you’re standing naked in a shower and he’s just staring at you.

“Daryl! What the- I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow.”

Embarrassed, you speak, voice pitched higher than normal from the shock and excitement coursing through your body. However, he stays put, leaning against the door as he drags his eyes up the expanses of skin afforded to him; that is, until you pull the plastic curtain to cover yourself and run your free hand through your hair, tilting your head ever so slightly in order to urge his eyes to meet yours. You wait for his response as you brush the wet strands back from your face, but it never comes, him instead choosing to stride towards you and send you a pout before pulling petulantly at the shower curtain, trying to coax you to let go of it. Raising an inquisitive eyebrow, your grip loosens and he can barely hold back his excitement when you really do let go, tongue peeking out for just a second before he hooks his lip between his teeth.

Throughout your relationship with Daryl, you learned he loved looking at you, gawking at and admiring each angle, birthmark and curve until you felt heat flush through your body. Even before the two of you got together, his gaze stuck on you, longing and soft when you weren’t looking, only hardening if your eyes ever met his. Each time he saw you it was like he was still in disbelief that you were his, forever suspended in the wide look he had when you first confessed to him, hence why you didn’t pay much attention to his stare as you moved to pump out some shampoo. You didn’t really know why he was in the bathroom and he made no effort to tell you, but you were here to clean yourself. So that’s what you’ll do. He’ll probably leave sooner or later after making sure you weren’t hurt anywhere, anyways.

The way the light from the lantern bounced off your glistening skin made you look like some sort of goddess. Like an otherworldly being he shouldn’t be looking at. Or like a succubus, sinfully tantalizing, except you didn’t know what you were doing to him as you raked your hands through your hair again, bubbles forming already between your fingers as you scrubbed. Shit, this was way better than he expected, and he’s gladly taking in everything it was offering. Shifting his weight, he clenches and unclenches his fists - commanding himself to keep them at his sides - but then you turn around, allowing the water to rush down your back and his resolve withers away as he tries not to envy the path along which it’s falling.

Soon, the little space between the shower curtain and the ceramic tiling isn’t enough for him. He needs to feel you against him, his trembling hands and suffocating boxers egging him on like this was the first time he’s ever seen you naked. Clearing his throat, he urges himself to move, building his confidence which had seemed to dissipate nearly immediately as you locked eyes with him. What he wanted to do wasn’t sweet or affectionate, and even though he knew you would tell him if you didn’t like it, he just didn’t really want to risk even doing something you didn’t like in the first place.

“Sorry I, uh, I’ll go rinse out my hair somewhere else. Here, I’ll get out so you can-”

This was it. He had to act now or he’ll lose the opportunity. Running his thumb across his bottom lip, he watches as your hand reaches for the shower valve, but your movements and voice stop when Daryl shoots his dominant hand out, the calloused skin wrapping around your wrist in a warmth that makes you snap your gaze to his. While firm, he never applies enough force to hurt you - he knows what kind of men there were in this world, and he didn’t know what he would do if you ever thought of him like that. On the contrary, the feeling of his fingers around you is welcome, especially after what felt like years away from him. Giving him that same inquisitive look, except this time laced with a small smile, you can tell by the way he’s gnawing at his lip that he has something to say. Something that has him hesitating in a way you’ve never really seen him hesitate before, well, besides the first time you both kissed.

“Actually, mind if I join ya? ‘Cause ya see, the other shower don’t work and there’s this girl - my girl - she’s amazin’, but she doesn’t let me into our bed ‘til I shower and I’m damn tired.”

Oh.

Noticing the way you tense up slightly at his suggestion, he offers more, another reason to sway you into accepting as if the pursuit of his little fantasy would both begin and end with what drops from his lips. This definitely felt more daunting, like a much larger leap than him asking for permission to kiss you.

“I also heard showerin’ in pairs saves water.”

Oh.

Yeah, you get why he was hesitating now.

Honestly, Daryl really couldn’t give a fuck about the water he was talking about. What he had in his running mind had little to do with his environmental footprint and more to do with feeling your skin on his and the image of you coming undone for him. He hasn’t been home - been with you - in what felt like weeks, and he thought the generator could stand to work a little harder after running for one person for a few days. With a slight upwards twitch of his eyebrow, you can feel what little apprehension you had leave your body and his heart pounds in his ribcage with the anxiety of what’s to come. At least, he thinks that’s why its beating at 100 miles per hour.

It surely can’t be the residual hormonal anticipation or excitement from his youth.

“And who exactly did you hear that from?”

The slight joking edge to your voice causes him to smile, but it’s a mischievous one, one that holds promises and sends a shiver through your body. Daryl really had no clue what he did to you when he looked at you like that, his piercing blue gaze hitting you as his head tilts down almost sheepishly to the grip he has on you.

His eyes flick up to meet yours, a glint residing in them that draws you to look at nothing but him as he runs his thumb along the bone of your wrist. With a tilt of his head, he speaks, muttered as he gnaws once more at his lips and lets go of his hold.

“It matter?”

So nobody, probably.

The amusing thought sends you shaking your head ‘no’ as you smile, pulling open the plastic curtain in invitation while trying to suppress the idea that just popped into your head. Daryl just wants to shower and the only reason he wants to shower with you is to fulfill that promise he had made. Because he just wants to go to sleep. That’s all. Nothing more, nothing less. Hooking his fingers into the waistband of his boxers, he’s hopeful that you would be watching him - and he’s fully prepared to make a show of stripping his last piece of fabric - but he’s sorely disappointed when he sees your eyes closed in an attempt to keep the bubbling shampoo from burning at them.

Why weren’t you looking at him? Was he not overt enough?

Wow, he really wasn’t very good with… whatever it is he’s trying to do, huh?

You shuffle forward from the steady stream and he takes that as his cue to step in, gladly placing his body just a few inches from yours and sighing in relief when the water hits his sore muscles. The sounds don’t go unnoticed by you, and your heart sinks a little with each suppressed groan of pain Daryl lets out. He always worked so hard for Alexandria, and they still treated him like somewhat of an outsider, questioning his true intentions with harsh looks when he even so much as walked too close to them. But they didn’t seem to mind him much when they were eating the animals he hunted, though, and that sent your blood boiling.

Turning around, you try not to let your gaze drop too low as you place your hands on his shoulders, frowning when you feel the stiff knots that have burrowed their way underneath his skin. Almost immediately, Daryl submits to your touch, an all too familiar warmth bubbling in his heart as he, too, turns and exposes his scar ridden skin to you, allowing your thumbs to rub circles into his upper back. He always loved this - the domesticity of these moments, the wordless communications, your love and affection directed solely at him - and he’s starting to forget the real reason he crashed your shower in the first place, lulled into relaxation under your nimble fingers and the water beating down on his overworked muscles.

“Does that feel better?”

Your question warrants a response landing somewhere between a grunt and a groan, but then you laugh and he swears his heart swells tenfold. He missed hearing that. Even if you got embarrassed of it sometimes, or hid it muffled behind the palms of your hands, he loved hearing it. Because you glowed when you did, your eyes crinkling up at the corners with a smile that almost always brought him to his knees, and perhaps almost selfishly, the knowledge that he doesn’t want to be away from you any longer dawns on him - as well as the knowledge that it’s inevitable that he has to leave again soon. Whether it be with Aaron or Rick, or some of the poor bastards that piss their pants whenever they see him.

When you stop your ministrations, he feels himself frowning as you tap him once with your thumbs, but he elates almost immediately when you speak promise of a better massage come morning. He’s slightly ashamed of the way his whole body lights up in goosebumps in anticipation, but it’s not unwarranted. Spending late mornings with you was something Daryl never knew how the hell he had lived so long without, and they were his favourite types of mornings by a long shot. Especially when it ended up more often than not with you on him or him on you, the both of you thankful for the misfit house you had all to yourselves and away from prying eyes and eavesdropping ears.

“You’re too damn good to me.”

But he deserves it, you think to yourself, He deserved to be cared for like this.

His praise drips with a softness he didn’t even know he was capable of until you came along and Daryl turns back around to face you, smirking lopsided when he sees a shy smile worm its way onto your face. He had to have known what he was doing when he said stuff like that - especially when he used a voice like that. Seriously, how long had the two of you been together? It felt like an eternity already, but he could still make you flustered from a simple compliment. Shaking your head, you rest your wrists at the nape of his neck and use the leverage to pull his lips to yours, thumb swiping at the blood dried at his cheek and hoping the distraction of your tongue on his will keep him from teasing the warmth crawling up your neck.

A ‘hm?’ noise falls from him, small and surprised as his eyebrows raise for just a moment before his hands loop around your waist by instinct. When you pull away, another noise falls from Daryl, but this time it’s more disappointed than anything, and he chases your lips with his bottom one jutted out, taking full advantage of the strong arms he has wrapped around you. Holding you in place, his eyes plead with the now perfected ‘one more’ look you’re all too familiar with and you can’t bring yourself to deny him - he knows you can’t. Closing his eyes and puckering his lips as he waits patiently, he hums when you finally kiss him again, his satisfaction vibrating down to the hollow center of your collarbones before begrudgingly letting you go when you pull away again.

The water runs a brownish red from the dried walker blood being washed off his body and he scrubs furiously at his arms, trying to gauge the right move that will get your thighs shaking and your moans bouncing off the ceramic tiles he’s seen less than he’s willing to admit. Should he just… go for it? Just pull you against him and push you up against the walls he wants your noises to echo off of? No, he should come up with a better idea. You deserved a better idea.

Running his thumb along his jaw, Daryl sneaks furtive glances at your body - who the hell he was hiding them from, he didn’t know - and picks even more skin off his chapped lips as he watches you twist at your waist ever so slightly to comb through your hair. Swallowing down his spit like some teenager, he watches your shoulder blades protrude and disappear, intently following the droplets of water as they fall along your neck and down the muscles you’ve developed. He had to hand it to the sorry rich prick who had designed this house because, all things considered, they did a pretty good job; there was just enough spread of it between the two of you to pass as a decent shower. Even if you or him had to oddly angle yourselves to warm a cool patch of skin.

Reaching towards the shampoo bottle, his arm brushes against your waist almost feather-light, but it sends a shiver through you, rattling your ribs and making your cheeks flush all the same. Daryl lingers for a moment longer than you expect, his body leaning as he stretches over and you think he’s going to step forward - wrap you up in him - but dutifully, respectfully, anxiously he stays put. You want his touch, especially after nights alone with only the scent of him on his side of the bed to keep you company, and, having caught a quick glance at his straining boxers before he joined, there’s little room for doubt in your mind that he wants you. But still, it exists.

Your own arms begin to sore when he finally pulls away, his hands now raking through the hair he seemingly never wants to cut. Clearing your throat, you turn around, eyes screwed shut as you face Daryl, fearing for both the shampoo you’re washing out stinging at your eyes and the fact that if you looked at him, your gaze would probably drop. God, was all it took just a few days without him to have you craving him like this? The close proximity coupled with the knowledge he’s standing next to you naked makes you tense up before a shiver runs up your spine, your thoughts causing your breath to hitch for barely a second. Despite your efforts to suppress it, your subconscious prays that he picks up on the little noise. Please let him pick up on it.

And he does, ever observant as he connects the dots, the initially surprised look on his face melting into a small anticipatory smirk before he all but races to lather his hair in the coconut - or was it grapefruit? - scent. This was good. This was damn good.

He dares take a step forward, tentative, testing out the waters as if he was unsure of your desire, but he knows he can read you, and that he can do it well. This was when he should do something, right? The subtle confirmations - a tense, a shiver, a hitching breath - beg him to. Under the streaming shower, Daryl impatiently scrubs at his scalp, teeth hooked permanently atop his lip as he watches the rivulets of watered-down shampoo catch along your skin, his fingers and mouth itching to replicate its path down your neck to your chest. He knows that path well, and perhaps that’s what makes him even more envious.

Thank God for the fact you’ve closed your eyes because if anybody saw Daryl right now, they would take a step back, maybe even several thinking he was angry. How could they not when he was glaring at you as if you had done something horrible? It’s a surprise to him, the fact that it seemed like you really could not feel the burn of his stare, but then a thought pops into his lust-fogged brain. Maybe you did know. And maybe you were toying with him, playing coy and pushing him to a teetering edge, letting him taste the tension on his tongue until he could hold back no more.

To say he’s impatient is an understatement. He isn’t simply impatient, no, he’s impatient. He wants to do something. He wants you to do something, to initiate the flurry of hands and lips he’s craving so desperately and, seemingly blind to that triad of signals, he scrubs frantic at his hair in an attempt to control himself. As he rinses out the shampoo, he manages to cling onto what little restraint he had over his body until you turn back around. It was like the universe was egging him on, trying to break his resolve by showing him those dimples on your lower back, reminding him of the way he gripped them when he took you that night before he left - and it works. Jesus fucking Christ does it work.

Daryl’s body crowds you then, muscular arms wrapped around either side of your waist and rough hands palming at your chest before sliding down to your stomach, pulling you flush into him while he grinds his hips experimentally against your body. The feeling catches you off-guard, eyes widening in surprise as you let out a gasp into the steam of hot water and you grip harshly at his forearm, attempting to steady yourself from the sensations blossoming from your thighs. He can feel them tense and begin to snap closed against him, but you hear the corners of his mouth twitch upwards with satisfaction.

“What- what are you doing?”

Restless, his fingers travel downwards, hooking a strong thigh between your two legs as he ignores your question, them parting immediately to accommodate him. Daryl’s veins thrum with adrenaline, feeling the all too familiar effects of your warm skin when he realizes you’re letting him do this - enjoying him, even - your hands pawing at his to beg him to speed up, to bring you that nirvana he loves to be the reason for. Heat flushes your body, knowing full well what he’s capable of, but despite it, your skin erupts into goosebumps under his touch, desperate for more.

“What’s it look like ‘m doin’?”

Your neck comes under his affection next, his lips meeting it as he mumbles the words against your pulse point, tongue darting out when he feels it speed up. Almost methodically, Daryl finds the marks he’d left days prior, darkening them with unadulterated determination and rolling his hips against you once more. The heavy motion draws a whine from you, short and needy as your nails dig into his wrist and he all but basks in it. God, this felt good. How the hell had he spent so long without you? Without your skin under his? Everything about you feels like a fucking drug to him.

“D-Daryl- what would your girl say.”

He smiles against your neck, a warm pride bubbling in his chest when he hears the slight shake in your voice. It always got like this when he was touching you, and he liked to think it was the anticipation raking through your body. All the possibilities he could bring to you. He loved listening to your voice as it was, but hearing it quaver as it bounced off the ceramic walls, mingled perfectly with the rhythmic thrum of water crashing against the two of you? It was almost alarming how quickly it made his head spin.

Submitting to your urging, he lets you slide his hands down to the apex of your thighs, groaning guttural into your ear when he feels your hips lift and rut into his touch, unintentionally grinding your ass onto his cock when you push yourself back onto him. Hooking his chin over your shoulder, you hear his breaths as he digs his palm an inch below your pelvis, thick fingers gripping harsh at your inner thighs as he nudges his further between them. It feels like fucking magic, whatever he’s doing, and a plea tingles at your lips before you bite it down. Daryl’s never been this bold, and this is new territory for the two of you. Very new. So you were going to let him take his time - let him explore every inch of your skin as if he didn’t already have it memorized - despite the fact every cell in your body screams for you to sink down on him right here and now.

His grip disappears too quickly for your taste, but before you can even register the decadent sear that marks his blunt fingernails and calluses, his palm makes home just below your stomach and he swipes two fingers against you, spreading you for him but avoiding that bundle of nerves you want so desperately for him to touch. An expletive drops from Daryl’s lips as he gathers evidence of your arousal, and the sound of him makes you claw at his wrist, your hands still blanketing his as you try to angle him to do something other than coat his fingers and smear you across your inner thighs. Amused, his middle finger curls, breaching you just until his first joint before pulling away, relishing in the way you clench as if trying to keep him in you.

“Hm, I dunno. What do ya think she’d say? I think she likes it.”

You can hear the self-satisfied smirk on his face as he feels your body react and you can practically see it behind your closed eyelids. Daryl knows all your buttons, every single movement that renders you down to a puddle of mush, but he’s avoiding them. His jaw clenches and unclenches as you buck your hips up to try and meet the talented fingers only getting further and further and further from you. Skin warm from the streaming water and the sheer amount of lust coursing through him, his left arm snakes upward, resting just under your breasts before pulling your shoulders flush against him. His teeth sneak out from behind his lips, grazing against that spot that made your thighs shake the first time you slept with him, and you become putty in his hands.

A gasp of Daryl’s name falls before a staggered whimper erupts from your throat, his hands moving so fast and sure along your body as if he had molded you to his perfection. Everything hits you at the same time, his sharp canines right below your jaw bone before they melt into the caress of slightly chapped lips, the hand at your chest palming and tweaking and toying like there was no tomorrow, his fingers swirling, nudging at that tiny bundle of nerves you’ve been silently begging him to touch just once, and you can’t stop the noises falling from your lips. No matter how much you try, they escape.

“Or d’ya think she’s too busy moanin’ for me to tell me?”

Oh, that fucking prick.

To make it worse, you can’t even bring yourself to be angry for that long because his voice drops into that low, husky whisper that makes your knees go weak. Had Daryl not essentially smothered you against his body, you just know you would be a puddle, pliable and aching after just a few days away from him. A jolt of pleasure rockets through you the moment you realize what he wants - to make you as desperate as he is for this - and you know he knows exactly how to get it. Biting your lip, you trap your sounds in your throat just to spite him and you dig your fingers into his forearm, seeking in any way to find another outlet for all the compounding stimulation he just keeps giving you.

Your heartbeat drums through your ears and you can barely register the growl against your skin, but the vibration of it is inescapable. He feels the crescent shapes already forming from your nails on his tan skin and he pulls his face from you, breath fanning your ear in preparation to express how disappointed he is at you robbing him of your noises, but you beat him to it, freeing the words that burn at your tongue to knock him off his high-horse. Daryl was never a very confident man, but fuck if it does not make your skin tingle.

“I think she’d tell you to- to shut up.”

The rebuke is futile, a stutter brought on by the push and pull of his deft fingers and he laughs. Daryl chuckles into your skin before everything from him detaches, only for him to grab at your waist and spin you around to face him, adjusting his hold to crowd you once more. Your back hits the ceramic tiles, a sharp whine escaping you at the contrasting cold, and you can see that smirk you had envisioned on his face when you open your eyes, taking in every inch of the swept back hair now falling into his face as he tilts his forehead slowly to yours. Running your non-dominant hand up from his arm to his face, you push the strands back, smiling slightly at the way he melts as his eyelids flutter shut for just a second. As much as he said he hated how damn soft you made him, he sought after your touch, your hands much too intoxicating for him to deny them.

You glow a ring of delicate orange from the lantern shining behind him, the light bouncing off your glistening skin and those sparkling damn eyes that shine with unguarded affection despite your ‘annoyance’ from just moments ago. Creating shadows over your body with his broad figure as he blankets you, Daryl nearly groans with delight at the image - the realization that you look impossibly better with the warm hue making his head spin. And when he remembers that you’re his to love? He tries to hide just how much it makes his mind run, but his voice comes spilling out without much thought, everything about you shrinking the filter between his brain and mouth that he so tenaciously keeps on during the day.

“That so? ‘Cause if I do then I can’t tell ‘er how much I missed her. Or what I was thinkin’ when I thought about ‘er at night.”

Daryl was already so worked up at the thought of doing this to you, you didn’t even need to actually do anything to him to have him throbbing against your stomach, begging to be touched after days of only imagined scenarios to keep him company. So you indulge him, tracing your dominant hand down the V-line of his pelvis and biting your tongue when his hips snap into your grasp, his grip at your waist tightening as he tries to still himself. He wants you to touch him, to let you give him what you want to give him and he tries his damndest to control himself, instead using his words to try and rile you up.

“Nothin’ I do feels as good as her. Nothin’ I’ve tried’s ever been close.”

Your whole body shivers at the insinuation, the ceramic sandwiching you to Daryl ceasing to feel as cold as it did when he first pushed you against it. He feels like centuries have passed when your hand finally wraps around him, running your fingers in a stroke that has him groaning and nearly keeling over you with how much that simple damn action makes heat pool in the pit of his stomach. Everything about this feels heightened, the steam of the shower failing in comparison to the heat pinging between the two of you. His eyes seek yours, cock twitching and catapulting him much farther to his climax than he would like to admit when he sees you watching your grasp, lips parted ever so slightly, pleading with him to lay his on them.

Heart thrumming in his chest, another groan of an expletive followed by your name drops from Daryl before his hips jerk forward, stuttering into your grip with no real rhythm as he pushes a rough kiss onto your mouth. When you let out a little surprised squeal, he pulls himself back immediately, as if shocked by his own lack of self-control, but your hand never stops, and your face leans closer towards his, the feeling of his ruined sounds vibrating along your tongue making you chase him. This must have been how he felt when he had you whimpering for him on those late nights and early mornings. No wonder you both loved them so much.

Twisting your other hand from the side of his neck to his nape, you pull him to you with equal fervor, the stroking of his cock forgotten in favour of his chapped lips turning into something more sinful with each movement of his talented mouth. His fingers begin to wander now, eagerly grasping at the two dimples at your lower back before his palms find all too familiar territory kneading and massaging your ass. Knees nearly buckling, you remember the leaking heaviness twitching in your grip and you nudge him between your thighs, your legs spreading just a bit wider as you inch him closer and closer and closer to where you need it most.

“N-no, wait- I gotta-“

His hands shoot downwards to still yours and he pulls his hips from you, his statement stuttered through a sharp, shaky breath. Whining, you nearly beg for him before you realize he succeeded in what he set out to do - and he was only gone four days, your subconscious chastises. Your head is swimming in desperation for him as you shake it, hair whipping into your face and onto the wall while you vehemently disagree with both his words and your own internal mocking. All coherent thoughts leave your mind, washed away in the stream of water running down your body and you come to the conclusion that you don’t fucking care if he would poke fun at you come morning, you need to feel him.

“Daryl you don’t need to- you can just- I can-“

You don’t need to keep-

You can just-

I can-

God, you sounded pathetic, your voice barely breaking above breathy through the heavy beating of water, and he loves it, it’s enticing him; he could die right now and he would feel nothing but satisfaction. Daryl was never a very confident man - well, with people at least - but around you, he felt wanted. Not just in moments like this when you craved him so debaucherously, but in moments when you would pull close to him while you were sleeping or hug him from the back. Just giving him your affection so freely and not expecting any back. It made his heart damn near break everytime he had to leave. Adjusting his grip on you, he digs his knee into the wall, perching you on either side of him and leaning closer and closer to your burning skin.

“Gotta get ya ready. Jus’- jus’ be a good girl an’ be patient. Don’t want ya limpin’ tomorrow ”

Despite his words, Daryl can’t help but think that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. It wouldn’t be so bad to linger beside you the whole day, a constant reminder of the real reason you needed him to get you things, or why you would grip his arm as a piss poor substitute for a crutch when the two of you walked along the street. Nobody else would know - at least, neither of you would ever tell - but the satisfied puff of his chest and the fact he stands just a little bit prouder might make them connect the dots. That, and the lovebites that creep out from underneath the neckline of your shirt which, coincidentally, only seemed to darken after he came back. Nah, he thinks to himself, it wouldn’t be so damn bad.

“I thought you were tired.”

There’s a hint of concern in your voice, peeking out from between the teasing and he grunts, acknowledging your words before his hands wrap around your wrists and urges them to loop around his neck. He knows he needs to do this, the action a silent beg for you to just relax and let him treat you right in the way you know he always will. With his neck flush in the crooks of your elbows, you tug him, pulling his face to yours and raking your fingers through his wet hair.

“Never too tired for you.”

His stubble scrapes against your nose as he mumbles his confession between kisses down from your forehead, a delicious burn leaving a trail that makes your heart beat impossibly faster between your ribs. Grip falling to your waist, Daryl’s rough fingers inch towards the apex of your thighs, but he moves them so fucking slow you're tempted to just reach down and push them into you like you intended to do with his cock. Before you can entertain the idea any longer, he catches your lips in a clash of tongue and teeth and knowingly smirks against your lips. He’s dedicated, attentive, and what kind of man would have the heart to deny you? He would do anything for you, all you had to do was ask.

Daryl eagerly swallows the moan you let out against his lips when his middle finger curls into you, the vibrations spreading along his tongue and consuming him from the inside out. Your thighs spread wider for him, welcoming him - no, begging him - for more and it riles him up almost comically well. Whether it was intentional or not, he would never know. He pulls his face away just inches, breath heavy against your parted lips before he sends you a small smile, an underlying mischief peeking out from the tiniest sliver of teeth he exposes. Leaning more of his weight onto his knee, his left hand travels around your waist to your ass, digging his dull fingernails into the flesh and pulling towards him, bringing your hips off the cold ceramic and snaking that arm into the curve he’s just created.

Before you can even brace yourself, he pushes a second finger in, curling languid with accelerating speed, revelling in the heat you bring him with an audible groan that reverberates off the shower walls. Already so desperate, the feeling nearly makes your legs shake under your own weight, but Daryl’s prepared - he could keep you up with the hand he has splayed across your upper back and he’s secretly proud of it. His mouth returns to you again, tongue surging to meet yours as if just the taste of your kiss would satisfy his desire to taste what’s beginning to coat down his palm.

It doesn’t, but it’s a damn good substitute.

Nails scratching pathetically at his scalp, your lungs beg for oxygen, but you ignore your body’s pleading for as long as you can. You need Daryl. Just him. Just him. His fingers are ardent, all of them pushing and pulling and toying and touching you in a way that skyrockets you into an overwhelming nirvana and it feels good. It feels so good to be with him again, surrounded by his scent and his heat, that you start to entertain the thought of begging for him. You try to do just that, but every sound coming from your lips is only absorbed greedily by his before you pull him away by his hair, taking large gulps of oxygen as he does the same.

Not even a second passes before you’re grinding down into his palm with pleas falling into the steam of the shower, all your words going straight down to his cock. Gritting his teeth, he growls at your desperation, lips shooting down along your collarbone before catching the skin between teeth. He has your whole body memorized, proof of that fact littered across your body in the form of lovebites, memories seared into your mind of his everything and it’s almost too much to handle. Almost. But you need more. And Daryl knows, much too perceptive in all senses of the word.

His left arm snakes up to your neck, the nape of it secured in a grip firm enough to pull your hips down onto his muscular thigh, spreading you and rubbing that sensitive bundle of nerves with his rough skin. Something between a swear and Daryl’s name chokes through your throat and he curls his two fingers just enough for you to repeat the sound, the movement perhaps pulling your hips forwards toward him. With the way you grind down so readily on him, it wasn’t easy to tell whether the roll of your lower body was from his fingers or the lust running through your veins. A satisfied smirk worms its way onto his face that you want to kiss off, but your head is stuck against the ceramic tiling by his hand tugging securely on your hair. Not enough to hurt you. Never enough to hurt you.

He can feel it now, the fact that you’re close, and it only makes him work harder. Maybe it was selfish of him, expediting your pleasure so he can finally seek out his, but he’s damn near shaking with the thought of finally being able to be with you in one of the ways he always wants to be. Sometimes Daryl felt like a teenager with all this certain enthusiasm he can’t seem to control with you around, but you had never complained - you made him feel alive in all the best ways - and he thanked whoever was pulling the strings in his favour for bringing him to you. Circling his thigh, he pushes everything he can up into you, the pressure making you feel like you’re floating. Fingers carding through his hair, your whole body tightens around him in a silent plea, and he's pretty sure he would have to be just about the biggest idiot in existence to ever deny you.

“Give it to me. C’mon, give it to me. Ya wanted my cock didn’t ya? Jus’ give it to me an’ I’ll make ya feel even better.”

Give it to me.

Daryl’s voice makes your mind swim, the growl rough and dangerous like everyone always tends to think he is, and incoherence drops from your lips, echoing against the confines of the walls as his breath fans your ear. Rutting your hips up to his hand, the knot in your abdomen snaps, the proclamation of it escaping you in a broken moan of his name. He can feel your body’s reactions before you start to get those familiar sparking waves of pleasure, the clench of you around him growing sporadic as he continues to unravel you with his teeth gritted, the unrelenting precision of his fingers sending you clawing and tugging at his scalp with no regard of your strength for just a moment.

His groan at the sensations edges out the haze of your climax and you immediately detach from him, pulling your body back from his so abruptly that he slips from you. Scrunching his nose in disappointment, his large hands cling at the back of your thighs, bringing your chest and forehead to his as if he couldn’t stand being apart from you for even just a few seconds.

“Sorry- sorry if that hurt I didn’t mean to-”

Face inches from yours, he shakes his head and cuts you off with a series of hungry pecks. One to your sinfully soft lips, then to the corner of your mouth, then one to your jawbone, devouring your apology right then and there as he overtakes your senses.

“‘S alright. It felt good.”

Then he kisses you again, urgent all the same, but he only pushes a firm brush of his mouth against yours. The movement is like a signature, as if it were his name scribbled easily along at the bottom of a letter - a soft possession that you wear along the tingles of your lips. It makes you claw at him again, tugging on the sides of his hips to pull him flush against you, fingernails digging crescent shapes he wants to see come morning, and your apprehension all but dissolves into the hot water of the shower. You were his, he was yours and in his mind, there was nothing he wanted more than for you to show him just what he does to you.

“Anythin’ ya do feels good.”

It’s stupid, how you could be in the middle of something so intimate and a simple compliment from him could leave you flushed from the neck upwards, but he loves it. He loves the little whimper you let out at his words and he smiles that lopsided boyish grin that makes your heart skip a beat. When he smiles at you like that, it makes you feel like the only person in the entire world. No walkers, no Alexandrians, no runs or patients at the infirmary to steal you or him away from the other. There was no one except you and Daryl - and it’s been too damn long since it was like this.

Body flush against yours, he snakes a hand down between his legs and the other grips at your thigh, hooking it around his torso and begging with a roll of his hips for you to rest your leg there. Each breath he takes sends a jolt of pleasure blossoming against your ribs, his skin rubbing against your chest so deliciously it makes your mouth fall open in silent pants of air. You don’t know when you closed your eyes, but they open when Daryl says your name, broken by a curse that falls somewhere after the first letter. He looks good like this - eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched.

Gritting his teeth, his mouth can barely form a coherent sentence with how much excitement is coursing through him, and he’s trying his fucking best to hold back from slamming into you until you give him a nod or a pull or anything, but then something in him breaks. The feeling of just having you so damn close worms its way into his brain and he takes himself in his fist, dragging along to gather the remnants of your climax and notches himself, all the while groaning from the heat emanating off you.

“‘S this okay? Need t’know if this’s okay.”

Slurred speech. It was so uncharacteristic of the Daryl everyone else knew - the Daryl who was so sure of himself, the Daryl who wore a permanent scowl on his face, the Daryl who was so mysterious, never speaking anything above a growl - and you think you could have laughed had it not been for the fact the words themselves dig up memories of all the times he had said them to you before. Every cell in your body lights up, high alert now that he’s in you, but he’s not moving. He’s not inching into you or filling you in the only way he can and you push your hips towards him, greedy movements making you swallow more of him. Taking a sharp breath, he lets you rut against him, but still, he doesn’t fucking move.

“God, Daryl- yes. Yes, it’s okay. More- more than okay.”

Sometimes you hated him, and then hated how stupid you felt for hating him.

He waits for your words. He always does. Without fail he checks on you before he slides into you. He never wants to take because he always wants to be good for you, but sometimes you wish he would. Sometimes you wish he would just take from you - take everything you have. There is nothing in this world that is not shared between the two of you. Daryl’s wholly yours as you are wholly his.

Curses drop from his lips, your name thrown in once or twice as if he’s reminding himself you’re real as he feels you around him. They fly out of his mouth like the bolts from his crossbow and ricochet off every wall as he begins to move, slow at first, experimental maybe with his hand secure against your thigh, then he starts building and building into a heavy, sinful rhythm. Shakily, Daryl groans, the breath he lets out tendrilling at your chin before he sucks frantically at your bottom lip, your noises meeting his as they hit the ceramic wall.

He wants to live in this moment forever; immortalize the way you look and sound on one of those VHSes, write the damn date on it, and hide it away for his and your eyes only so it’s rewatchable and revisitable and reliveable. It's not enough to just sear you into his memory like he’s done so many times before because you’re damn near perfect. Like you were made for him - for him to give you everything he wants to give to you.

“Fuck- fuck- you feel better’n I remembered. How’s‘at possible?”

The words escape him, rushing out as if you’ve put a spell on him, and they almost escape you, too, your pulse beating in your ears. But he’s so close to you, growling out through gritted teeth into your ear and pushing his lips to the curve of your jawbone like they need to be on your skin. He pulls his body away, chest leaving yours, and you pull at his waist to bring him back, whining lewd for him and only him, shameless and betraying the blush you feel as you register his stutters, but he doesn’t. Instead, Daryl smiles, that same damn grin with his teeth hooked along his bottom lip and eyes hooded as he watches every change in expression. You groan, half in the way he rolls his pelvis just enough to rub against that small bundle of nerves that beg for him, and half in annoyance at the way that lascivious expression seems to make every electron in you buzz.

“Shut- shut up.”

He lets out a sharp breath, a singular amused ‘ha’ following it, cock hardening and twitching even more at the fact he’s making you blush like that first night he had lavished every inch of your body with his lips - like you didn’t deserve every single damn word escaping from him. Leaning his weight against his left forearm that lies on the side of your head, Daryl brings his face to yours, nipping at your lips and seeking your tongue before he starts speaking.

“You should see yourself like this, y’know. Fuckin’ perfect for me.”

For a man who only ever growls and mutters, he certainly liked to talk a lot when he was pounding into you the way only he knows how and you’re just so damn unbelievable for him. For him. You’re his to love and it sparks something within in him that makes his tongue fucking run and his hips speed up involuntarily. Hell, you probably heard more of his voice in this shower tryst than the whole first nightwatch you had with him. You’re not even sure the water is beating down onto you anymore because the heat of your body makes the shower pale in comparison.

The sweat accumulating on his back and chest and everywhere is washed away almost immediately as it forms and you’re grasping for something to hold onto. Clawing, you wrap both your arms under and around his shoulders and scratch desperately at his back, grinding up against him and making jumbled noises of moans and Daryl’s name when he drags against that spot he knows so well. It’s skin on skin, the ceramic wall ceasing to feel cold as you screw your eyes shut and let yourself mount and mount with each roll of his hips. You hear a nearly feral growl, feeling your leg being hiked up higher by the elbow hooked underneath your thigh, and a loud noise breaks from your throat when his thumb swipes where his cock meets you.

“C’mon, we ain’t got all night.”

You’re close and he knows it. It was like he was rubbing it in your face, the fact he could make you like this - how quickly he could reduce you into the incoherent, ruined state you always seemed to become for him. Attentive. He’s always attentive. You can tell by the way he’s memorized everything that makes you shake and capitalizes on them, thrusts coupled with the tight circles pulling you closer and closer to that precipice of pleasure, but he says those words anyways, hoping to get a reaction from you. Daryl’s not an impatient lover - he would spend hours buried in you if you let him - but he’s so damn close and perhaps almost selfishly, he wants to watch you succumb first. He wants to watch the water race down your body as you writhe for him against the wall, and he wants that to send him over the edge.

“Then- then do better, Daryl.”

You bite back, your breath grazing against his neck and a wet heat rushes through him, making him groan nearly wrecked as his hair tickles your cheek. Reaching behind his muscular body to his shoulder blades, one of his large hands is more than enough to wrap around both of your wrists and he takes them in his grasp, moving them until they’re secure against the ceramic wall behind you. You’re warm for him. Pliable for him despite the veil of distaste in your voice and he can’t get enough of it.

Daryl’s so fucking happy you bite back.

His hips stop and you let out an almost childish cry, but he stays buried deep, filling you up to the brim as the water beats down on the both of you and holding you against the tiles by the weight he’s pressing from where you meld to him. His face is so close to your ear now. So much so that you can feel the breath when he speaks, a dangerous growl resounding through your body before his teeth graze along your neck.

“Hm? I ain’t never heard a complaint from you be- before. That a- fuck- are ya challengin’ me?”

An expletive drops from Daryl’s lips when you clench around him, no doubt from the sudden crash of your mounting pleasure, and he pushes impossibly further into you, firmly pinning you down until he knows you won’t be able to move anymore. He wants to show you he can stop at any moment, that he can make you work for it, but you both know he’ll give in. Maybe you didn’t know the extent of which you have him wrapped around your finger, but if you even knew half of it, you would know he would never stop. Not when he was so desperate for you he can barely think of anything except the way you look and feel. At least, not unless you wanted him to.

“Are you g-gonna take it up?”

Although your mouth ceases there, your brain runs, pleas tickling at the tip of your tongue, but you can barely manage to form the meager few syllables that have already escaped you. Eyebrows knotted at your forehead, you try desperately to coax more movement from him - a whine, a whimper, a thrash of your pinned hands flattened by his strong grip - but Daryl’s so damn still and it’s driving you crazy. When your body settles for only ragged breathing and shaking thighs, he takes it as his cue to lean down, lips brushing yours in a kiss that’s so affectionate you forget that, just moments ago, he was relentlessly pounding into you.

“Don’t know. Seems like you might be wantin’ it more’n me.”

Smiling against your mouth, he pulls away just enough to speak. A challenge in his words so obvious to you that you try in vain to buck your hips to his. If he didn’t sound so good and look so good and feel so damn good, you would have denied it, but you’re strung so taut, so close to the peak, that you can barely form a retort. A stupid, handsome smirk rests on his lips as he waits. Patient. Like it wasn’t affecting him, being buried in you. He’s just waiting for your words - goading you as he watches from underneath his lashes.

“Daryl, I swear to God if you stop right-“

The insincere threat is enough to spur him into action. Partly due to the fact you sound so desperate and ruined for him, and partly because he just needs to feel you again - he would lay you down and take you the way you deserved on the bed come morning, but right now was a different matter entirely. Swearing, his smirk drops in favour of a scowl, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he snaps up into you in quick succession. The hand at your thigh is roaming now, massaging and palming wherever his nimble fingers can worm their way onto before it splays across your ass, using the grip to pull your body impossibly closer to his. Daryl would have made you beg for him - he wanted to - but he can’t stop himself. Not when you look so pretty up against the wall and you’re taking his cock so well.

“Been gone four days an’ you’re already so damn needy.”

Whether that statement was directed at you or himself, you would never know.

An abashed whimper escapes through you and you want to deny it, perhaps just to see what would happen, but you can’t. You can’t because Daryl’s right. He knows he is, and you know he is. You thrash your arms so you can touch him, feel his skin underneath your fingers, but his grip around your wrists keeps you firm against the ceramic tiling - just enough to keep you pinned so he can admire the way you squirm for him. Grunts and groans of your name escape from him with each thrust, the feeling of your body melded to his much too intoxicating for him to keep his mouth shut.

“What, you embarrassed now? Wanna cover your mouth? Keep them noises from me when you’re soundin’ so damn pretty? Ya better not be thinkin’ about it. ‘Cause ya damn well ain’t gotta.”

Daryl tilts his head, eyes squinting in faux-concern and mocking you as his hips relentlessly hit up into yours, pushing out the breath from your lungs which escape in tantalizing gasps with each roll. You’re so close, and the only thing you can do is moan at the sound of his rough voice, the coil tightening in your abdomen because of his determined thrusts. You just need a little more - just a little more - and he reads you like a book.

Without warning, the hand pinning your wrists frees itself, his finger pinpointing back between your thighs with an unadulterated eagerness to pull your climax from you and you damn near cry out Daryl’s name as you claw at his back. It’s like second nature to him, the way he can touch you and make you crumble for him. Practice does make perfect, and he’s always been a persistent man.

“Ya sure as hell weren’t when you were bein’ a brat.”

Everything he’s doing to you is almost effortless. It makes your legs shake and without warning, your thighs tense up, a white hot surge of pleasure erupting from the base of your stomach and you gasp a broken moan of Daryl’s name as you clutch at his neck in an effort to keep yourself from collapsing onto him. He holds you close, chest pushed up to yours and breathing ruined into your ear as he works you through your climax with dextrous fingers, chasing his own as his rhythm begins to falter. Sporadic thrusts meet each flutter of your clenching warmth. until he can’t hold out anymore.

Screwing his eyes shut, a stuttered chanting of profanities mixed in perfectly with pleads of your name fan out from his mouth and he pulls out, rubbing himself harsh against your thigh before your fingers wrap around his cock. Fuck, Daryl nearly crumbles right then and there, a ragged groan rushing from him before his hips jerk upwards to your touch - nothing could even compare to it and he thinks nothing could ever come close. Nothing except you. Pulsing in your grasp, both of his rough hands dig into either of your thighs and he stills, teeth gritted as the evidence of his pleasure hits your stomach before being washed away in the steady stream of water.

Satisfied, you smile and lean towards him, your head coming off the ceramic wall, and he parts his lips immediately for your tongue, but you pull away after giving him a quick peck. Scrunching his nose, Daryl pats lightly at your thigh for your attention and seeks your lips once more, moving his with the same amount of overwhelming love and affection he always does. It makes you feel warm inside, like you were the only one in the world for him. And you were. At least, in his mind you were.

He releases the grip he has on your thigh and slowly lowers it, his hand still ghosting close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off his body. Both legs still shaking slightly, your foot hits the floor of the shower and you lean your weight on it, tentative and experimentally at first before you overestimate its security and half-fall-half-stumble into him. Daryl notices, of course he does, and he swallows down the pride welling in his chest as his sure grasp steadies you against his body.

“Hey, hey, I got ya. Jus’- jus’- I got ya.”

By instinct, he speaks, the rumble of his chest against yours making your heart well up with the familiar fondness you always experience when it comes to him. Daryl wasn’t a man of many words even though you had managed to break him out of his shell a little - at least with you - but there was no doubt in your mind that he genuinely and wholeheartedly cared about you. In his eyes, you had strung the stars into the sky and he always treated you with a softness he never thought himself capable of.

With one hand on his waist and one on his shoulder, you use Daryl as a crutch, continuing to lean your weight on your legs until they cease to shake. When you can stand on your own, albeit with wobbly legs, you link your fingers in both of his and meet his protective gaze - alert as if prepared to catch you again if your body gave any type of signal. He smiles when he sees the expression on your face and brings your knuckles to his lips, pressing a firm kiss onto the back of each of your hands before letting go and reaching for the bar of soap you two had ignored in exchange for something more riveting.

“Here, let me- I’ll help ya wash up.”

It meets your shoulder and it’s cold as he trails it down, lathering your right arm before moving across your chest and to your left. Smiling at his concern, you hum, nodding your head and content at the feeling of his tenderness as he continues to dutifully run the suds down along your body. Daryl unabashedly goes about copping a feel or two when his hand just so happens to fall onto your chest or your ass, a boyish grin meeting your quirked eyebrow when you question his intentions with a look. If you actually, truly cared to ask him, he would say he was helping you wash your body and making sure he was doing it to the best of his ability - quality assurance or some shit like that.

He helps you lather, too, calloused fingers rubbing off dead skin much better than yours could as he focuses the showerhead on him. You laugh when he pulls you into him, water streaming down your body along with his hands as the bubbles wash off your body and you run the bar of soap along the broad expanse of his shoulders, doing your fair share of subtle… touching too. Daryl all but melts into your caring hands, revelling in the way your attention is solely focused on him before he grunts, as if signalling you to look at him. When you do, his hands loop around your waist, head tilted to one side as he gingerly rubs those little shapes he always love to draw onto your skin.

“Y’alright? Was, uh, was that alright, I mean.”

Allowing you to maneuver him under the shower, he begrudgingly lets go of you to rinse off all the soap and feels genuinely clean for the first time in what felt like days. Smiling, you respond, saluting playfully and laying a small peck onto the corner of his lips before you spin around, pulling the curtain open just enough to reach for the towel lying just a few inches away on the towel rack but still keeping the warmth from the water in.

“Yes, sir!”

His cock twitches at the name, betraying the slur of fatigue in his voice and he sighs at himself, turning the shower knob off and opening the curtain fully, reaching for his own towel that hangs next to yours. He always did feel like a teenager when it came to you, and usually he didn’t mind it, but he really was tired before this and his back is killing him, so maybe another time.

Drying your body, you turn your head towards him and smile before making quick work of your wet hair and stepping out, pulling your underwear on from where you left it on the bathroom counter. It’s a small smile, one fully innocent and only ever reserved for him, but that look makes your words replay in his mind. A shudder runs through him as he tries to ease a smile onto his face too, admiring the scene of you for a moment. It’s domesticity, showing him a homelife he could actually feel loved and safe in; reminding Daryl something like that actually existed for him.

He imagines meeting you in a different world, wooing you like you deserved through coffee dates and Radiohead concerts, not through killing reanimated corpses or guarding Alexandria’s walls together, and his whole body calms down.

But then you pull on a shirt that’s much too big for you - one of his shirts that you said you liked wearing because it smelled like him - and he swallows his spit as if he hadn’t seen you naked just moments ago, a familiar shudder running through him again. Definitely another time. Near future, preferably.

Hopefully.

“You coming?”

Your voice breaks Daryl out of his daydream and he grunts an answer, smirking at the joke that just popped into his head as he replies with a curt ‘I just did’ and catches the pair of boxers you throw at him in response. Rolling your eyes, you comb your fingers through your hair and try to dry it as much as you can with the towel before reaching for your toothbrush. He follows suit, dressed in only his boxers as he brushes his teeth and shakes his wet hair at you like a dog, causing you to whip water at him off your fingertips after you wash off the excess toothpaste dribbling at the corners of your mouth. Smiling internally, he spits, tasting mint on his tongue that he'd much rather replace with the taste of your lips, even though he knows full well you’re just as minty as he is.

“Thank you.”

Meeting his eye in the mirror, you give him a confused look, eyebrows raised in an expression he thought was much too cute on your face for your own good. Your hands don’t still as you continue to rub out the water in your hair, determined not to go to bed with it too wet and risking it to clump up and dry tangled.

“For lettin’ me, uh, do that.”

His naturally gravelly voice clears up, turning slightly more timid than you were used to and you notice the shift in his behaviour. He avoids your gaze, waiting for your response as he fiddles with the lantern he now has in his grasp, unsure of what you would say and you decide your hair is dry enough. Hanging your towel back onto the rack next to his, you grab his free hand and lead the two of you back towards the bed, smiling affectionately as you turn off the lightsource and place it onto the nightstand. Wide-eyed, Daryl stares at you, as if waiting for you to tell him to leave - that you hated what he had done - but you break him from that train of thought as you slip under the covers and welcome him to join you.

Relief washes over him and he happily climbs in, groaning at the feeling of your body next to his and he succumbs to the comfort of the mattress. Pushing yourself into his side, his arms automatically open for you and he swears he could cry when you brush your thumb against his cheekbone and lean up to him.

“Anything for you.”

He feels the words as you whisper them just inches away from his lips, and he relishes in them when you pull away from the quick peck and dig your face into your pillow, closing your eyes and just looking so at peace. You’re so close to him Daryl’s in awe and he can’t help but stare. Wanting to hold onto the feeling of his skin a little longer, your finger draws a little heart over where his beats in his chest and you speak again, voice so warm and sincere.

“I’m glad you’re home.”

Home. That’s what it is to him now, too.

“Glad ‘m home too.”

With a final kiss laid on your forehead, Daryl echoes your statement and pulls your body closer into his. A small smile tugs at his lips and his arm slings lazily at your waist before he, too, closes his eyes, allowing himself to fall into the lull of sleep.

It was good to be back.

Back to a home he had made with you.

──── ⋙

@daryldixonluv @pulplorrd @fuseburner @hells-mistress @maria--grey-blog @marylimlp @pncnsc @tinachristeen @hail-yourselves @whimsicallymad @just-always-tired @phoenixblack89

comment to be on my taglist!

#haruwrites #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon #daryl x you #twd smut #daryl smut #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl the walking dead #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x you #the walking dead smut #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead imagine #daryl dixon oneshot

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jakekiszkaenthusiast · 2 years

Text

By The Fireside

pairing: sam kiszka x reader

warnings: none! fluff :)

author’s note: okay! i’ve decided to turn the ‘christmas with you’ story into a...series? i’m doing an imagine for each member of greta van fleet, all in different scenarios- this story is going to be with sammy, exchanging gifts and being cosy and festive. i hope you all enjoy these, and get excited for our michigan boys during christmas. also- i’m not sure if it’s ok to talk about sammy’s dogs irl bc of the breakup, so the dogs in this story are entirely fictitious.

“holy fuck, it’s cold! baby, come here- you gotta cuddle me.” sam called to you, already standing outside with one of the dogs, etta, the leash trailing out of his pocket where his hands were stuffed deep inside.

“just a minute, stop being dramatic!” you yell back, bent over as you tried to clip the leash to your other dog, bonnie. finally, she let you clip her in and you bounded out of the open front door, albeit stiffly due to the many layers you were wearing.

almost immediately, sam moves to wrap you in his arms, not paying attention to your dogs getting tangled. you laugh as he smooshes his face against yours, pressing kisses to your still-warm cheek. sam was always clingy, but he managed to get even worse during winter, using every excuse possible to cuddle with you, or hold your hand.

bonnie got impatient, tugging on her lead to start walking. you and sam laugh before detaching and untangling everyone and beginning your walk.

it was actually very cold, and after almost an hour-long walk, you felt frostbitten and your teeth chattered. sam had linked his arm with yours, trying to keep you close to him, occasionally kissing your cheek or laughing at your visible breath as you spoke.

it was the twenty-fourth of december, and you wouldn’t be spending christmas together- you were going back to your parents’, as was sam. it made you sad, but you knew your ‘mini-christmas’ you were having together, just the two (well, four if you counted bonnie and etta) of you, would be enough until you reunited.

when you got back into the house, you didn’t want to shed the many layers you wore and instead flopped onto the couch, waiting for sam to get to work lighting the fireplace. he crouches over the fireplace, striking a few matches and stoking a few logs before sitting comfortably in front of it, letting the flames warm his skin.

he turns around and motions for you to join him. you scramble up from your seat, pulling your jacket and scarves off and sitting next to him, sides pressed together. you rest your head on his shoulder, and his head rests on top of yours. bonnie had come to settle just next to you, rolling over for her tummy to be tickled- etta was doing something in the kitchen, most likely something you would have to clean up later.

“i’m really gonna miss you tomorrow, sammy.” you sigh, pouting.

“i know, me too. but we can call, and we’ll be back on the twenty-eighth in time for new years.” he reassures, wrapping his arms around your torso. you knew it would be fine really, you were excited to see your family and you knew sam felt the same- but you were still going to miss him a lot.

you both stay like this for a while, quietly talking about what you were going to do without the other, all of the food you were excited to eat back home. you made sam promise to bring back a slice of your favourite pie, after two years together you had decided that only mrs kiszka could make it right.

“okay, mini-christmas starts now!” he says, removing his arms and head from you, getting to his knees and crawling over to the christmas tree to your right. he pulls a few wrapped boxes out, passing them to you and asking which ones were his.

you had three poorly wrapped boxes in your lap- two were medium sized, but it was the third and smallest box that held your attention. you commented on the sloppy tape-work, laughing at his sheepish face.

sam delcared you should go first, taking turns between the two of you to unwrap each gift. so far, he had given you a special edition of your favourite book and a knitted sweater in your favourite colour. you had got him two of his favourite jazz records, a piece of art he had talked a lot about and finally, a silk kimono you knew he’d love. all that was left was your final, tiny box.

“go on, open it!” he urged, pushing it into your hands.

it didn’t take long to unwrap, and nothing about the outside of the box revealed its contents. you nervously opened it, revealing a silver ring adorned with small diamonds and opals. your eyes widen and flick up to meet his, cocking your head with confusion.

“okay, i know it looks like...that, but it’s actually just a promise ring. to tell you that i love you and to make sure you always carry a piece of me with you. diamond is my birthstone, and i know you love opals, so i thought this would be perfect.” he explains, a hint of nervousness in his voice. you smile widely, taking it out of the box and sliding it onto your finger. it looked perfect against your skin.

you shoved all of the discarded wrapping paper out of his lap and crawl into it, wrapping your arms around his neck to crash your lips against his. he laughed into the kiss, one hand finding the back of your neck and the other stroking up your back.

after pulling away from the kiss, you rest your forehead against his, letting your noses bump every now and then.

“i love you so much, sammy. i love the ring, and the meaning behind it, too. i’ll carry you with me forever.” you murmur, smiling widely.

“one day soon, it’ll be the real thing. not just a promise ring.” he says seriously, looking deep into your eyes.

“i can’t wait for it” you whisper against his lips, kissing him deeply by the fireside.

the rest of the ‘mini-christmas’ was spent lazing around the comfortable living room, drinking wine and picking from the cheeseboard you had set up. you turned a christmas movie on, but it was quickly forgotten when you shared warm kisses. the dogs cuddled close to you, trying to steal bites of food and licking your chins to get your attention.

you loved the little family you had created, and could already see flashes of your future to come:

his face as he sees you walk down the aisle

his first time holding your firstborn

bringing your baby home, the dogs sniffing curiously at their head

finally getting to spend christmas together, everyone’s family laughing.

you couldn’t wait for your life to play out together, knowing he couldn’t either. you would get to share warm kisses for the rest of your lives.

#greta van fleet #sam kiskza #sam kiszka x reader #sam kiszka fluff #christmas fluff

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ks-dreams-fantasies · 3 years

Note

Can you write one where the reader surprise vinnie on his bday like the readee said that she cant go to his bday bc of something

*Pics not mine*

Birthday boy – Vinnie Hacker

Sooooo… I decided to turn this request into a smut 👁👅👁 If you are not comfortable, don’t worry you can read the first half of the story before it gets to heated. I got carried away, sorry 😬 Hope you enjoy it still

Author’s note: In this story, both the reader and Vinnie are of legal drinking age, and the pandemic is long over

Warning: Smut 🔥

Word Count: 1.9k (not proofread)

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‘’ I know you’re disappointed Vinnie, I am too, but we’re not done filming yet” you said to your boyfriend over the phone. You had been away to Canada for the past month, shooting for a movie with other young actors. You loved your job, but being away from the people you loved the most, was difficult.

“Can’t you take a couple of days off?” He asked almost whining

“It doesn’t work like that Vin” you sighed, you knew he was sad “I’m sorry, I’ll make it up to you, I promise” you continued, smiling softly, even though he couldn’t see you.

“I just miss you, and the fact that you won’t be here for my birthday sucks” he huffed “I know it’s not your fault”

“I miss you too” you said before getting interrupted by a knock on the door. “I have to go baby, we’re getting ready to film, I’ll call you later, I love you”

“Ok, I love you” he responded before you hung up, making your way to set. Tomorrow was your last day of filming before a two-weeks break. You hadn’t told Vinnie, wanting to surprise him for his birthday, since it was a last-minute decision from the movie director. You were stocked to go back to L.A to see your friends for a few days. You had decided that for Vinnie’s birthday, you would plan a nice trip away from everything, just the two of you. You had talked with Thomas and Mia, knowing you could trust them with your secret. They had kept you up to date on everything, including the party schedule.

You would see him in only two days, and you couldn’t wait to be near him. You missed everything about your boyfriend, his hugs, his kisses, his voice, his laugh, his touch, oh how you missed his touch. A month away from each other wasn’t an easy task since the both of you were always together. He hadn’t had the chance to come visit you on set since he had a bunch of contracts and projects to work on, himself.

The day finally came for you to go back home to Vinnie, and you couldn’t be more excited. He didn’t suspect anything since you had called him that morning, wishing him a Happy Birthday.

“Thomas said you sent me a package, but I’m not allowed to open it till later tonight” he had said, loving that even though you couldn’t be with him on his special day, you had still thought about sending him something.

“I believe you can wait a few more hours” you had smiled, looking at him through your phone screen. The FaceTime call lasted for another fifteen minutes before you had to go

“Ok baby, I’ll call you back later tonight so we can open your gift together, have a good day, I love you”you had said looking at the time, knowing you had to leave soon to make it to your flight in time

“I love you too (Y/N)” he smiled fondly at you “See you tonight” he had said

“See you tonight” You had chuckled, before hanging up. He was on for a big surprise and you couldn’t wait to see his reaction.

You texted Mia when you landed. The plan was to sneak you into the house without him noticing, so you could get ready. The boys had finished working out, your boyfriend going to take a shower before the party started. It was the perfect time to go in, following Mia to hers and Thomas’s bedroom.

“I’m so glad you’re here” she said excitedly “He’s going to be so happy to see you (Y/N)” she continued, jumping up and down. “I’ll let you get ready, people are starting to arrive” she said before exiting the door.

You decided to scroll through your phone for a bit before getting ready for the party. Vinnie had just posted a new TikTok of him in the shower, like always, but that was enough to make you melt at the sight of him.

To: Mon Amour❤️👅

Still on set, just saw your TikTok. 👀

How can one human be so handsome 😩 it’s not fair

He had responded soon after, making you smile, while making your way to take a shower as well. When you got out, you could already hear the music blasting downstairs, indicating the party had started. You finished getting ready and texted Thomas to distract your boyfriend while you went to join the girls in the living room. You made sure to stand close to him and his friends, but still far enough to observe him without him noticing you right away.

“Vin, that girl’s been looking at you for the past ten minutes man” Jordan had said, smirking as he saw you on the other side of the room

“Yeah and?” he answered, shrugging his shoulders not turning to look at the girl in question

“She kind of look like (Y/N) if you ask me” his friend had retorted, making the birthday boy stare at the group of girls, spotting you immediately, almost running towards you, smiling widely at the sight of you.

“Is that really you?” he asked, his eyes wide and mouth still agape, you chuckled, pulling him into a hug

“Happy Birthday baby” you murmured in his ear, leaving a kiss below it, the action making him shiver.

“I can’t believe you’re here” he responded, hugging you tightly, before detaching himself a little bit to stare into your eyes. He had this ability to make you melt just by looking at you. He moved his face closer to yours, kissing you passionately. His lips were soft and demanding, he wanted more, and you knew he had missed you as much as you’d missed him.

“Get a room you guys” Michael said, passing the both of you, making you laugh against each other before detaching yourselves. He grabbed your hand, leading you to the beer pong table, where Connor and Calvin were playing and drinking.

It had been an hour since you reunited with Vinnie, and you were still near the beer pong table, talking and laughing with the others. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you, scared that if he did, you would disappear. His arms were around your shoulders, staring at the way your mouth was moving while speaking to Michael and Alex.

“Hey yo Vinnie, you’re still with us?” Alex had said, making your boyfriend diverted his gaze towards him, sipping on his red solo cup

“Yeah” he chuckled lightly “Sorry” the boys laughed at him, knowing damn well he was only paying attention to you.

“You’re up next birthday boy” you said, nodding towards the table, where two team had just done playing. You all moved towards the beer pong table, Vinnie playing with Michael and Alex playing with Kouvr. You stayed next to them, watching the scene in front of you. Vinnie was having so much fun, laughing and drinking with his friends, he would often take a glance at you to make sure, you were ok. Alex and Kouvr were losing, Michael laughing at them and Vinnie getting almost every shot he took.

You got lost in the moment, just admiring him, and the way he looked extra good tonight. Even under his white t-shirt, you could see every muscle of him flex. His large hands grasping the ball before shooting it into the cup, making him celebrate the victory with Michael. He caught you staring at him and came right back to stand in front of you.

“Everything’s ok baby?” he asked you, smirking, knowing what it did to you. After a few seconds of silence, he took your hand in his, as you followed him upstairs. He led you towards his bedroom, but you were surprised when he went in and continued walking towards the connected bathroom, closing the door behind you. You stood there, leaning against the counter, Vinnie taking a few steps closer to you, standing centimeters away from your face. His lips found yours quickly, taking control of your mouth easily, your tongues dancing and battling together, Vinnie deepening the kiss. You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until he pulled away, and redirected his kisses on your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin, making you let out a small moan.

“Fuck, I missed you (Y/N)” he murmured against you, pressing his lower half to your aching core. Your hands travelled to his hair, tugging lightly, something you knew he loved for you to do.

“I want you Vin” you whispered in his ears, making him grunt, before he turned you around quickly, making you both look at your reflection in the mirror. You could feel him get impatient, as he pressed his hard member against your covered ass. One of his hands rested on your hip as the other slid down your back, forcing you down into a bending position. You reached down to the end of your dress, lifting it up, for Vinnie to get a better view. He ran a hand through your hair, fisting them, grasping and pulling them gently. A loud moan left your lips at the action, making you back up into him, as he started to grind into you, over and over again.

“V-Vinnie” you mumbled, as he snaked his hand slowly into your damp underwear, making you let out a sight of satisfaction. His skillful fingers found their way to your dripping fold, spreading your arousal on the rest of your needy core. Vinnie kept a steady pace, pumping in and out of you, making you scream in ecstasy. You had been craving his touch for a month now and you couldn’t contain yourself anymore.

“Fuck me already” you said, wanting to feel more of him than his fingers. He bit his lips at the sight of you, begging for more, before yanking your panties down your legs in a quick motion. He unbuttoned his pants quickly, making them drop to the floor, his erection springing free on his covered stomach. He pumped himself a few times, before lining himself at your entrance, your eyes meeting his reflection, your pussy throbbing at what was about to happen. He grabbed your hips, pushing all the way in, your broken moans filling is ears, feeling your tightness around him.

“You’re so tight” he whimpered as you moaned, reaching back to grab onto him. He began to piston his hips harder against yours, making you yelp out in pleasure and surprise, feeling your orgasm approaching. His hand laid a hard smack on your ass, as you bit your bottom lips, trying to contain your moans. You could feel Vinnie’s trusts getting sloppier, indicating he was close as well.

“I’m so close” he almost didn’t hear you. His hand trailed down the front of your body, snaking his fingers down your swollen clit, rubbing it perfectly to bring you over the edge. Your legs started shaking, Vinnie pumping in and out of you, as he rode your orgasm. You clenched around him and the action was enough to make him cum, himself, spilling his loads into you, groaning loudly.

Once you were done, he helped you clean the mess the both of you had made, laughing lightly as you both got dressed.

“Best surprise ever” he said, smiling as he kissed your temple.

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Thanks for reading

Hope you liked it, let me know what you think

-K

#vinnie hacker #vinnie #vinnie hacker imagine #vinnie hacker smut #vinnie hacker fluff #vinnie hacker x you #vinnie hacker x reader #tiktok boys #vinnie imagines

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gubler-me-up · 3 years

Text

The Cure

Request: Not sure if you are taking requests but I’d love to see a one shot of that scene where Reid is getting washed down bc of anthrax and he asks the reader “I’m about to get naked, do you really wanna see that?” And the reader is like yeah and leads to some sexy times later lmaooo

A/N: Thank you for the request, anon! While I was writing this I was like how do I turn this moment into something sexy??? but I think I figured it out so I hope it makes for a good smutty read!! Enjoy!

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!reader

Category: Smut

Content warning: Unprotected sex, penetrative sex, fingering, creampie, swearing, mentions of anthrax

Word count: 2.7k

————-

“Go help Hotch,” Spencer insisted.

“Hotch has plenty of people helping him,” you assured.

The biohazard team was hosing him down with water to eliminate any traces of anthrax possibly lingering on his body. You felt bad you had let him wander off by himself even though he continuously insisted it was his fault. You wanted to stay by his side until he was taken to the hospital. You wanted to make sure he was okay throughout the whole process.

“He needs you more than I do,” he said.

You shook your head in protest. “Spence, I’m going to see you off to the hospital.”

“I’m about to get naked so they can scrub me down. Is that something you really wanna see?” He asked.

Without thinking you answered. “Yes.”

You quickly pressed your lips together as you realized what you had said. He looked at you in shock and you could feel the embarrassment tingling in your gut. The biohazard team looked on as if nothing had occurred but you could tell they heard you just by the brief looks they gave you. They seemed intrigued by what would be the next words to leave either of your mouths.

“Uh, maybe I will go see if Hotch needs help,” you said as you turned around.

“Y/N,” you heard him call.

You immediately turned around. You thought you turned around too eagerly because he looked thrown off by how quickly you switched your attention back to him. Or maybe he was still thrown off by your response to him. Either way you stood there waiting for him to say another word.

“I wa-”

“Dr. Reid, did you cut your hand?” Dr. Kimura asked.

Spencer looked at his left hand and you could see the instant look of panic wash over his face. You felt your heart drop as you saw how scared he looked and you were deeply scared for him. You both had thought he was in the clear for about an hour at that point which scared you even more. While they were hosing him down the anthrax had been going into his bloodstream.

He then let out a raspy cough. The panic started to come over you and you went right up to the glass that separated the both of you. He looked up at you and tried to tell you something but he was interrupted by a series of raspy coughs.

“He needs to get to the hospital now,” Dr. Kimura said.

“Spence, you’re going to be okay. Please tell him he’s going to be okay,” you begged.

“He’ll be okay once we get him to a hospital,” she reassured you.

She grabbed him by the arm and escorted him out of the room. The other biohazard team members rushed to the ambulance in the driveway. You ran out the door to meet them in the driveway. They took out the gurney and helped Spencer onto it.

You looked on in horror as he had trouble catching his breath. You didn’t even think your steps through as you walked towards the ambulance. As they put him in you were ready to climb in along with him. Dr. Kimura had to stop you immediately.

“Agent, you can’t be in the ambulance,” she said.

“But I have to make sure he’s okay,” you said.

“I know you do but I don’t want you to be put at risk. Meet us at the hospital to find out any further details about his health,” she said.

Before you could protest any further she hopped into the ambulance and closed the doors. You heard the sirens blare as they rushed out of the driveway towards the hospital. You ran towards the SUV and hopped into the driver’s side to get ready to follow them.

You took out your phone and called Hotch before you followed them. You impatiently waited for him to answer. You wanted to be by Spencer’s side as soon as possible so he had someone by his side to make sure he was okay. As soon as Hotch answered you frantically babbled everything you had to say to him.

“Hotch, Reid’s going to the hospital because the anthrax is probably in his bloodstream, so I’m going there right now to make sure he’s going to be okay,” you said.

“Y/L/N, how did that even happen? I thought they were going to hose him off,” he said.

“Hotch, I’ll fill you in later but I have to go. Bye,” you said and hung up on him.

You knew Hotch would call you out for your irrational need to panic but you didn’t care. You had to make sure Spencer had some sort of support. He had been through so much by himself and you couldn’t let him go through another downfall in his life alone. You put on your sirens and pulled out of the driveway before rushing to the hospital.

It had been an agonizing three hours of waiting for Spencer to wake up. Lucky for him he found the cure before he was rushed to the hospital. When he did wake up you made sure he was the first person he saw. It would have been you and Morgan but he went to go get an extra jello for Spencer for when he woke up. You and Morgan had eaten both of the jello’s in his room because you both got hungry as you waited for him to open his eyes.

You were over the moon when he had woken up. You couldn’t contain your excitement and went in for a hug immediately. You made sure it wasn’t too tight but close enough so he could feel the warmth you had to give to him. He wrapped his arms around you to hold you tight to him.

He couldn’t thank you enough for being by his side the whole three hours he was asleep. You assured him you would have waited longer if need be. The need did arise when Dr. Kimura informed him she wanted to keep him overnight to make sure he was fully stabilized. You told him you would stay with him as long as possible before the hospital had to send guests home for the night.

You were walking back to his hospital room with a paper bag full of fresh fries from the mom and pop diner from across the street. Spencer said he wished he had some fries to balance out his plain Jane hospital ham and cheese sandwich. You took it upon yourself to get it for him. It was the least you could do for him after everything he had been through in the day.

You knocked on his hospital room door before entering. He was reading a sports magazine Morgan had left behind in his room. From the look of confusion and dissatisfaction on his face you didn’t think he liked it very much. He looked up at you and instantly smiled as he tossed the magazine onto the side table.

“Hey, I got those fries you wanted,” you said.

“Aw, Y/N, you really didn’t have to,” he said.

“Spence, this isn’t the time for you to be overly considerate about my time or money. You almost died today,” you said as you closed the door behind you.

“That’s no excuse to splurge on me,” he said.

You chuckled as you rolled your eyes. “You’re impossible sometimes. If you don’t want them I’ll gladly eat them for you.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want them, I just said you didn’t have to but since they’re here I’ll eat them,” he said.

You laughed as you walked up to his hospital bed. You sat on the edge and handed over the bag. He smiled as he gladly took the bag from you.

“Thank you for everything, Y/N. I really appreciate you,” he said.

“No problem. Anytime,” you said.

“Can I ask you for one last favour?” He asked.

“Of course,” you said.

“Can you pull the curtains? I don’t feel comfortable with people watching me eat through the windows,” he said.

You got up and walked over to the big curtain to pull it across to block out anyone from looking in. The only light pouring in now was from the little gap of space at the top. You looked over at him with a smile but soon noticed he had put the bag of fries on the side table.

“Aren’t you hungry?” You asked.

“I’m actually curious about what you had said earlier,” he said.

You raised an eyebrow in question to what he meant but you already knew what he was asking about. You walked back over to him and sat on the edge of his hospital bed. You knew he could see through your disguise of playing dumb. You sighed and decided to come clean instead of trying to lie to a profiler.

“I wouldn’t mind seeing you naked. I know it was totally inappropriate and unprofessional and I’m sorry,” you rambled.

“Don’t be sorry,” he said.

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“Because I wanted you to stay,” he admitted.

It took a second for you to comprehend what he said. Your eyes widened as you took in his desire for you to be there as he got naked. You didn’t have any words to say to that. On the inside you were screaming at a high pitch that only dogs could hear but nothing left your mouth. You could see Spencer’s open expression soon fade into a worried one.

“Uh, sorry. Maybe you didn’t mean-”

You leaned in and kissed him briefly on the lips to prevent him from continuing his sentence. When you leaned up from him you could see a thrill spark in his eyes. You softly giggled as you felt adrenaline come over you.

“I think you’re really special, Spence and for months now I’ve had you on my mind,” you confessed.

“So have I. Eight months, twelve days and eight hours to be exact,” he said.

You chuckled. “I’m glad we’re on the same basis. If my profiler skills are on point you didn’t want me to close the blinds so you could eat.”

He smirked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You chuckled as you crawled onto the bed and swung your leg over him so you could straddle him. You leaned closer to him so you were right in front of his face. He couldn’t hide his true intentions from you now. He couldn’t help but laugh as you caught him red-handed.

“How about we stop talking and start doing?” You asked before planting a heavy kiss on him.

He latched his hands onto your hips. He lowered your body down so your pelvis could touch his. You could feel how hard he was through his hospital gown. You slowly grinded on his hard bulge to get him even harder. He moaned through the kiss and you loved hearing him being unable to even form a proper word to express how you made him feel.

He slid his hands down to the bottom of your skirt and moved his hands up to pull it up. He managed to slip his fingers underneath you and slowly stroked the cloth of your underwear. You started to moan yourself and you wanted more of what he was doing to you. You moved your underwear out of his way so he could get to stroke you properly.

He didn’t hesitate to run his fingers up and down your folds. He made sure not to forget to pay your clit a visit here and there. You moaned in pleasure as you let him feel you for the first time. You unbuttoned the first four buttons of your blouse because you were getting hot. Spencer had no problem with you revealing more of yourself to him. In fact he looked ecstatic to see you loosen up even more.

He then inserted two fingers into you. You nearly lost your mind as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. He looked you in your eyes as he did. He had a small smirk on his face in response to how you could barely contain yourself anymore. He leaned forward to trap you in another lengthy kiss. From your lips he kissed along the side of your face until he reached your ear.

“I’ve been waiting for a long time to know how you feel,” he whispered.

“I hope it’s everything you’ve ever desired,” you moaned.

“It’s more than I could ever desire,” he whispered.

His words alone could send you over the edge. You pulled back the sheets from under you and proceeded to lift his hospital gown. You gently took his fingers out of you as it was time for you to show him how good you could feel.

You grabbed his dick from underneath you to hold it in place. You gently slid down onto it and you both let out a moan in unison. You grabbed onto his shoulders for support as you gently rode him. You would go faster but you thought he had already been through a wild ride during the day.

The way he grabbed your hips to motion you to go faster indicated to you his heart could take it. You obliged and quickened your pace as you continued to let out countless moans. You looked in his eyes as you rode him and you could see how lost in lust he looked.

“How do I feel now?” You asked.

“Amazing,” he said.

You smiled and leaned down to kiss him again. You couldn’t get over how amazing his kisses were. You didn’t know if you liked his kisses more or his dick. He was definitely the whole package all around and you couldn’t get off the high he made you feel.

You continued to ride him for a few minutes and it was becoming harder and harder for both of you to contain your moans. You then felt him grab your hips to hold them still. You were confused until he started to buck his hips up into you. You accidentally moaned louder than expected so he hushed you as he continued to buck his hips.

“I’m about-”

“Just fucking cum in me.”

“You su-”

“Yes, just do it.”

He grunted as he came in you. You moaned out a sigh and eased up off of his dick. You two were heavily breathing but catching your breaths didn’t stop you from kissing each other. You could have kissed him for hours on end but a knock on the door scared you so deeply you jumped off of him. You fixed your skirt and buttoned your blouse as quickly as possible as Spencer pulled down his nightgown before covering himself with his sheet.

“Come in,” he said.

A security guard came in. He looked at the both of you and for a second you were nervous he knew what you two did. You didn’t exactly care if you two were caught by him but it didn’t make a good first-time story to remember. You immediately grabbed your bag because you came back down to reality and realized what he was going to say.

“Visitation hours are up, miss,” he said.

“I know, I’m leaving now,” you said.

He nodded and left, closing the door behind him. You looked over at Spencer and the both of you laughed. You leaned in and gave him one last kiss.

“I’ll be back tomorrow morning to pick you up,” you said.

“Thank you. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow,” he said.

You smiled. “Me either. See you tomorrow.”

You turned around to walk towards the door. You couldn’t stop smiling to yourself as you thought about the possibilities of tomorrow and the future with Spencer held. Before you turned the doorknob to leave, you heard him call you.

“Y/N,” he said.

You turned your head. “Yes?”

“I can’t let you leave without asking you on a date. Would you like to go on a date next week?” He asked.

You giggled. Even though the two of you just had sex in his hospital bed, he still had to be a gentleman about the whole thing. He was definitely the best guy you had ever known. You nodded in excitement.

“I would love to, Spence,” you replied.

He smiled. “Awesome. I can’t wait. Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Spence."

—–

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @shadyladyperfection, @slutforthegubes, @pinkdiamond1016, @spencerreidsthings, @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto, @slutforsr @bxtchboy69, @fallinallinmendes @haihappen5 @mgg-theprettiestboy @siltuz-png @ptrs-prkrs @tclaerh @agentadhd @alexmarie29 @closetedreidstan @mac99martin @blxckhearthood @jesspavlik0vsky @katexrichardson @keniaasf @reidbuck @corishirogane3 @thegoddamncrazycatlady @keniaasf @pastelbabygirl19 @shadybagelsludgecolor @bootycrackraisinjuice @vintagebeauty1496 @laneybobeczko-g @littlewierdalien @cynbx

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loversandantiheroes · 3 years

Note

Anything else you'd care to tell us about what gets Frankie off (aside from manhandling you and getting you off)? 👀👀

SO! This was gonna be a nice little bullet point list, but then I got a little stuck on what would be on it and ended up distracted thinking about a couple specific points while I was hopped up on anxiety and too little sleep and too much caffeine so now it’s just a whole goddamn fic! I have been staring at this for so long I have no idea if it’s good anymore so Happy Thanksgiving / I’m sorry, YMMV.

Risk and Reward

Excruciatingly shameless Frankie/F!Reader smut, 4.2k+ words (don’t ask me I don’t know what happened either), unbeta’d bc I’m impatient and the offered beta-er went to sleep, moderately edited bc I cannot linear a thought process.

Warnings: praise kink, risky sex, dirty talk, road hand (this is apparently what it’s called???), semi-public sex, semi-feral Frankie, car sex (truck sex?), unprotected sex (do as I say, not as I fictionalize), cream pie, implied come-eating (not actually shown).

Pedro Perma-taglist: @littleferal, @thirstworldproblemss, @corvueros

It’s nothing you mean to start. It’s just a congratulatory kiss on the cheek and a soft mutter of “Good job, baby,” when Frankie thrashes Benny at a game of pool at the bar. It’s been a rough week, and it’s good to see him enjoying himself and not propped up miserably on your couch while you try to work the knots out of his shoulders and neck for the fourth night in a row. He preens a little at the attention, eyes downcast but with a crooked smile that stops just on the verge of smug. You loop your arm around his waist to keep him close, hooking your fingers under his belt, and as Frankie raises his head for a proper kiss you catch a wicked little glimmer in his eye.

His mouth hits yours and there’s nothing telling in that, it’s perfectly sweet and nearly chaste, but his hand slips up to the back of your neck, squeezing gently like a thank you. The wheels in your head are turning a little slow courtesy of the drink you’ve been nursing while you watched Frankie play, and it takes a long, long moment for the thought to finally land: he likes it when you praise him. It was possibly the easiest of his inclinations to find - the first time you’d taken him to bed and locked your ankles around him and told him how fucking good he felt had dragged such a gut-wrenching sound out of him you’d thought he’d pulled a muscle until he’d begun to move faster.

You hadn’t considered that maybe that might push his buttons outside of the bedroom, but now you’re thinking maybe it’s worth a try.

Frankie tugs you along back to the table to sit, scooting close enough that your chairs knock into each other whenever one of you shifts, but it’s enough for you to lean into the crook of his arm comfortably. You drift through the conversation, not feeling any pressing need to be included, just pleased to be close enough to feel the way laughter buzzes through Frankie’s chest.

“What about you, Fish? How’s the mechanic gig working out?”

“Eh, it’s fine,” he says. “It’s work.”

You nudge him with your elbow. “Understatement of the century, baby.”

Frankie inclines his head in reluctant agreement. “We’re shorthanded right now, I’ve been picking up extra shifts. But the boss isn’t a complete prick, and it’s good money, so…” He trails off, shrugging as if that’s the only explanation needed.

He’s modest to a fault, god bless him, and you sigh with exasperated affection as you knock your head against his shoulder. “Well I’m proud of you, baby. You’ve been working your ass off.”

Santi points a finger over his beer. “Ooh, careful, man, you ain’t got much of that to spare.”

Frankie mutters a short stream of Spanish over the top of your head - the only word you manage to catch in your limited vocabulary being pendejo - and the other man grins.

“Language, Francisco,” Santi says, one hand to his chest as though scandalized. “There are ladies present.”

You laugh, craning your neck to place a kiss by Frankie’s ear. “Don’t listen to him, baby, you’ve got a cute ass.”

His cheek grows warm, and warmer still when Benny cuts in: “All right, ease up on hype routine before we gotta call emergency services to get Fish’s giant fuckin’ head out the door.”

“We got a hacksaw in the truck, it’s fine,” you insist, giving Frankie’s thigh a squeeze under the table. “Not my fault you yahoos have never heard of positive reinforcement.”

Frankie’s chuckle is so low you almost miss it, his face hidden under the bill of his hat. Santi eyes this display with one of his impressive eyebrows hiked. He meets your gaze for a second, a knowing smirk on his face that suggests he at least is fully aware of what you’re pulling on his friend right now. You only smile, sip your drink, and let your hand wander out of sight up and down Frankie’s thigh.

Abruptly Santi thumps Benny’s shoulder with the back of his hand. “C’mon Benny-boy, I feel like knocking balls around. I’ll let you win the first round, get you some of your pride back.”

Benny scrunches his face up, scooting away from the table with his hands spread. “Like hell. You ain’t letting me do shit, Pope, I’ll kick your ass fair and square.”

Santiago tips you a wink as he ushers Benny off to the pool table. “Behave yourselves.”

“Hell no,” you shoot back, and he grins.

Immediately Frankie’s mouth brushes your ear. “You’re a menace,” he says, a little heat crackling through his amusement like dry lightning.

It’s a small effort to school your expression into something reminiscent of innocence before you turn to face him. “What, can’t a girl pay her boyfriend a compliment?” You trail your hand up, brushing the back of your knuckles against his fly. His jeans feel just a bit tighter than they really ought to, and it absolutely delights you.

His eyes seem to darken; no small feat in the already dim light of the bar. “I know what you’re up to,” he says, that small, pleased smile still curling the corners of his mouth.

“And?” you press, a little laughter coloring your voice. “Is it working?”

He doesn’t answer, but the way he looks at you suggests he finds it funny you even have to ask.

Emboldened now, you leave a kiss against the corner of his mouth and press your hand a little more firmly between his legs. “Come on. You work so hard, and you always take such good care of me. Let me be sweet on you, Frankie. You’ve been so good, you deserve a little praise.”

“Querida,” he mutters, low and light enough that his voice nearly cracks. If it weren’t for the feel of him stiffening you might’ve mistaken the tone for embarrassment rather than barely concealed excitement.

You smile at him, all sugar, and cup him through his jeans, the outline of him clear against the fabric. “Say it, Frankie. C’mon baby. Tell me you’ve been good.”

The bulge under your hand twitches hard and swells, the denim stretching even tighter. “We’re leaving,” he announces quietly, pulling his coat into his lap as he stands. “Now.”

Grinning, you stand, unhurriedly slipping on your own coat and waving as Frankie ushers you past the pool table and towards the front door.

“Good night, boys,” you call back over your shoulder.

Santi laughs, and the last thing you hear before the door closes is him announcing to Benny: “Told you. Not even five minutes. Pay up, bud.”

Ever the gentleman, even now, he follows you to the passenger side to get the door. You stretch up, offering a kiss in thanks, but he damn near collapses into it, pushing against you so suddenly the backs of your legs strike the step behind you and you almost lose your balance. Luckily Frankie’s reflexes are better than yours, even now, and as quickly as you start to feel your balance go he gets an arm around your back, dragging your body flush to his again. The surprise leaves you giddy and giggling, and before you even know you’re planning on doing it you’re giving his cock a heavy squeeze through his jeans.

“Fuck,” he breathes, breaking away. “Not here, baby. Fuck don’t get me started here. We’ll get caught.”

“Thought you liked it a little risky, Francisco,” you tease, but you still your hand anyway.

“Baby there’s two cruisers parked over there,” he says with a thin laugh, jerking his chin over your left shoulder. “Shaking my dick at the cops is not the kind of risky I like.”

You glance over and sure enough, there’s two police cars in the parking lot, one of them still occupied and idling. The men inside don’t appear to be paying you any mind, but Frankie’s right: it’s best if it stays that way. Sputtering laughter, you pull your hand away and cup the sides of his face, thumbs stroking through his coarse stubble. “Better take me home then.”

Frankie keeps a close eye on the occupied car as you pull out onto the road, eyes returning again and again to the rearview mirror for at least three blocks before he finally seems to relax a little. He rolls his shoulders, nodding, muttering a quiet affirmative to himself, and then tenses all over again when you slide your hand back up his thigh.

“Baby,” he warns. There’s a heady mix of panic and excitement in his eyes as his right hand darts out, grabbing your wrist inches away from your prize.

“Both hands on the wheel, baby,” you tell him evenly. “Let me do this for you.” And then you wait, thumb rubbing a slow circle across his denim-covered thigh. It’s an offer, not an order. You’re honestly not sure if he’s actually good with this idea, and you’re not about to bulldoze him into something he doesn’t want to do on a blind, horny whim.

He squeezes your wrist a little tighter, then nods. “Okay,” he whispers, and returns his hand to the wheel.

“Good boy. You’ve got this, Frankie. Just keep your eyes on the road,” you mutter, shifting a little closer and giving him a slow squeeze. Your heart’s beating faster now, thrilled at the prospect of what you’re about to do - what he’s about to let you do. “I know how good you are behind the wheel. What’s it Santi always says? ‘Anything with wheels or wings,’ that’s your specialty. You just focus on the road and let me take care of you.”

“Jesus,” he croaks when you undo his belt, lifting his hips automatically as you draw his zipper down and work his jeans down just enough to let his cock spring free.

You can’t help but crow a little at the sight of him: hard and wavering and already welling a glassy bead of pre-come. “Fuck, I love how hard you get for me, Francisco,” you murmur as you take him in hand, delighted at the rigid heat under your fingers. He whimpers at the praise, shoulders pushing back hard against the seat.

He’s silent as you begin to stroke him, his jaw set too tight to allow him to speak. A small whimper escapes him when you swirl your thumb around the head of his cock, spreading that bead of slickness over it.

To his credit, the truck doesn’t waver in the slightest. He damn near drives a razor-line down the highway, speed so steady you would’ve thought it was cruise control. The only real show that this is costing him any kind of effort is the way the steering wheel creaks under his white-knuckle grip. It’s still early enough that the roads aren’t fully deserted, and it’s taking all of his concentration to keep his focus on what his hands are doing instead of what your hands are doing.

The light at the intersection ahead turns from yellow to red and he slows to a stop, one hand trembling on the gear shift. In the brief reprieve his eyes slip closed, allowing himself just a minute to fully focus on the sweet, overwhelming friction of your hand. He shudders, sinking back into the seat as all the pleasure he’d tried to tamp down overspills. His hips jerk up into your hand, sharp at first and then rocking, chasing the sensation. A deep, sweet groan tumbles out of his open mouth and Frankie’s eyes flutter closed, his head dropping against the back window hard enough to make it rattle.

“Good, baby?”

“Fuck yes,” he breathes.

It’s wonderful to see him like this, so willingly overwhelmed and aching for what you want to give him. It lights you up, a bright, sweet ache that starts low in your belly and blooms out everywhere, flaring up hotter with every little sound he makes. The heater’s blowing now, warmth swirling around your legs and you hike your dress up, pressing your fingers insistently against your clit through your tights.

A moan escapes you before you can stop it, teeth clamping down on your lower lip just a bit too late. Frankie’s head whips around at the sound, mouth agape at the sight of you with one hand around his cock and the other working half-hidden between your legs. And then you’re reminded of just how fast this man can be, because one moment his right hand is resting on the gear shift and the next it’s pushing your own fingers aside to rub eagerly at your clothed slit. The fabric is absolutely soaked through, and Frankie swears under his breath.

“You get this wet for me, baby?” he all but whispers, rubbing a slow, firm circle over your clit.

Sighing, you cover his hand with your own, trying to match your strokes with the rhythm of his fingers. “Mm-hm. Just for you, Frankie. You look so sweet like this, I can’t help it.”

“I promise you, baby, you look sweeter. Fuck, I could eat you up. Wanna tear these fucking tights off you and bury my face in your sweet little pussy until you can’t think of anything else.” He’s quiet - he’s always so quiet - but somehow the gentle rasp of his voice only serves to make that stream of filth even hotter.

A sudden honk makes you both jump, Frankie spitting out a stream of obscenity in Spanish while you can only give an undignified squeak. The light, you realize as you look up, has gone green again.

Frankie fumbles the truck back into gear, waving an apology to the person behind you. As soon as he’s got the truck into gear his hand returns to you, trying to take its place between your legs again. Despite literally everything in you that desperately wants to feel those thick fingers against your desperately aching cunt, you shake your head.

“Both hands on the wheel, Frankie,” you remind him, considerably more breathless this time than the first. “The sooner you get me home the sooner you can take these off me just like you want.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re killing me, baby,” he pants shakily as he settles both hands on the wheel again and eases down the road.

Control is a little harder to come by now that he’s let it slip, his body turned into a perpetual motion machine, rocking back and forth without the need for his input. He’s dripping like mad, enough that your hand slides easy back up his length. Your fingers glide over the slick head and he shudders, swearing, and thumps his heel against the floor.

“Don’t-” he chokes, and his hips press up hard against your hand as a thick runner of pre-come trickles down the underside of his cock.

You slow, squeezing him rhythmically. “‘Don’t’ what, baby? You want me to stop?”

He groans, gritting his teeth. “No. N-no, no. Just...fuck, if you keep going you’re gonna make me come. Don’t make me come like this, baby, please.”

“You got something else in mind? Tell me, Frankie. You deserve a reward. Tell me what you want.”

“Christ,” he pants, searching for words and coming up empty, his ability to think stretched far too thin trying to drive a straight line while you nudge him closer and closer to the edge. “Madre de fucking Dios, baby, goddamn it.”

Home is still a good five minutes away, but there’s no way Frankie’s going to make it that far. Grasping his cock tight at the base, you scoot in closer until your chin’s on his shoulder and you can press your mouth right up against his ear. “Easy, Frankie. Take a breath, and tell me what you want.”

There’s a thin whistle as he hitches in a deep breath, the loose front of his t-shirt drawing tight under his jacket as his chest expands. He holds it for a dizzying moment, pulse thudding so heavily his cock bobs in your grip with it.

“I want to fuck you, querida,” he whines. “Lemme fuck you, baby, please. I don’t want to wait until we get home, I want to feel you on my cock now.”

The heat that’s been pooling in your belly bursts into a goddamn fireball, and any desire you had to keep your hand on the reins in this little scenario, to make him wait for it just a little longer, wholly evaporates. The skin high up on his neck is cool when you press your lips against him, smooth at first and then raising up into goosebumps when you whisper: “Pull over, Frankie.”

“Fuck, I- fuck.” His throat works, eyes darting between the road and the mirrors, and then his arm shoots out, holding you back against the seat. There’s a side road ahead, choked with weeds and largely unused, and Frankie takes the turn onto it one-handed, killing the engine as soon as he gets the truck far enough into the weeds to be mostly unnoticed.

And then he’s on you, his mouth crashing into yours with a staggering intensity, dragging you up to straddle his lap and sliding his hands underneath your dress. His fingers hit the apex of your thighs, catching at the sodden seam of your tights and wrenching them apart. The sound of fabric ripping is startlingly loud in the small space, and you gasp against his mouth, stealing his breath.

Your head spins, wondering if maybe you teased him just a bit too far, but then there’s another rip and your panties are gone, too, fluttering down to catch on the brake pedal. The hot, wet head of his cock nudges your entrance and suddenly your only thought becomes - oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. You brace yourself for the jolt, because even as wet as you are Frankie is big, and you’re certain you’ve worked him up so much he hasn’t got the control left to give you time to adjust.

But Frankie always has a way of surprising you. You’re tensed up, expecting force and speed and instead he pulls you down slow; taking you at a crawl when you expected a sprint, and all you can do is scratch your fingers across his scalp and whine as he fills you up, sweet and hot like honeyed brandy. He shudders so hard the springs in the seat creak as you slip down another inch, and another, clenching and fluttering around him as he buries himself inside you with a groan so deep it’s nearly a sob.

“Yes, baby,” he mutters, words returning to him in a slow trickle. He drops his forehead against your chest, his breath lovely and hot on the thin skin between your breasts as he tugs the neckline of your dress down to leave a kiss there. “Fuck yes. You take me so good. Keep going.” His fingers bite into your thigh as you sink down a little more. “Don’t-don’t stop, baby. I need to fuck you. I need to. Don’t stop.”

His body thrums underneath you as you sink down, every muscle trembling like high-strung wire, ready to snap. He’s trying so very very hard to hold on long enough to let you open for him, to be ready for him to give you what he wants. The realization leaves you dizzy, your grip tightening around his shoulders and he lets out a choked moan as you settle fully in his lap and all but gush around his cock.

You’ve got bare seconds before his patience gives out, but you settle your hands on his chest, feeling the race of his heartbeat under the well-worn cotton of his t-shirt, and push yourself just far enough away that you can look down at him properly. God, you want to move. You need to move. Every time with Frankie holds the same sense of shuttered awe, like you forget what it’s like to be this full until he’s inside you again, pressing up against nerves you barely knew you had.

It’s dark now, the streetlights barely reaching into the shaded alley, and Frankie’s face is painted only in shades of blues and blacks. But even in the darkness you can see that awe-struck look on his face: lips parted, eyes wide and impossibly dark. The first thing you think rolls straight off your tongue without a second to parse it: “You’re so beautiful, baby.”

And Frankie breaks.

He grits out a sound that’s half a snarl and half a whimper and lunges up into you so hard you have to brace yourself against the roof of the cab to keep from hitting your head. Without even meaning to you cry out, the air forced out of you in a broken staccato as Frankie plants his feet on the baseboard and fucks up into you so hard you swear you feel the jolt of it lance up brightly through your ribcage. It’s unrelenting, frantic and primal and fucking overwhelming. All you can do is wrap your arms tight around his shoulders and hang on, let him take what he needs, letting him give you everything he can.

Frankie’s beyond words. Teeth bared against your throat, arms locked tight around you. One of his hands is hooked around your shoulder, the other gripping mercilessly at your ass. Even as wet as you are you still grip him tight, especially at this angle, and it’s nearly a struggle for him to move, to drag himself out of you and bury himself all over again.

You want to encourage him. Want to praise him. God knows he’s earned it, but every nerve in your body is on fire and you can’t even find the air to breathe, let alone speak. You manage a sharp, keening whine as he shifts under you, just barely grazing your g-spot. Every nerve sparks like raw metal on flint and without even meaning to you clamp down on him tight, your body taking the initiative and trying to hold him against that spot, to chase that burn.

Snarling, Frankie shoves you back, your shoulders thudding against the steering wheel. The change in angle is sudden and shocking and oh god it puts him right where you wanted him, driving up relentlessly against your sweet spot. It’s brutal and blissful and fucking perfect, and when he shoves his hand under your dress and drags his thumb in shaking circles over your swollen clit it’s even better. It’s fucking heaven, and you’ve got no idea how much more of it you can take. Your whole body shakes, unmindful of any direction you might give it. Your hand strikes out blindly, knocking hard against the solid plane of his chest and grabbing a fistful of his t-shirt.

“Please, baby,” he groans through gritted teeth, and you have just enough senses left to hear just how close he is to coming, and how desperate he is to get you there, too. “C’mon. Come for me. Please.”

“F-f-frankie.” So close. Each thrust, each stroke of his fingers pushes you a little closer to your peak, all other sensations fading out and making room for the overload. You’re not sure if you could see anything even if it was broad daylight right now, but goddamn it you wish you could see his face...

The last thing you hear is Frankie’s shaking voice pleading with you: “Please baby.” And then there’s just a ringing, high and tuneless. You have the barest second to wonder if you’ve truly gone deaf and then, like the sheer enormity of it was too much for your brain to process at once, then you come. Every muscle contracts and you seize up, shuddering, all control over your body lost. Your throat burns, and it isn’t until Frankie’s hand clamps down over your mouth to quiet you that you understand why.

His heel pounds the floor and he thrusts up into you once more, lifting you up as he goes rigid, under you and inside you, his arms locking tight around your body. He comes with a broken sob, his face buried against your neck as he quakes his way through the spasms.

The ringing fades, and you listen to the sound your mingled breathing, harsh and labored. You tighten your grip on him, curl one arm around his head so you can brush his hair back - god, when had he lost his hat in all this? - and press a long kiss to his damp forehead.

Your throat’s a wreck, your voice rough and uneven when you finally find it again.

“Good boy,” you murmur.

“Love you, baby,” he says hoarsely, the words stifled against your skin. “Jesus Christ I fucking love you.”

“Love you too, Francisco.”

He laughs, breathless and utterly come-drunk. “Fuck, we need to get out of here. Somebody definitely heard that.”

You stroke your fingers through his hair, too pleasantly fuzzed to care overmuch about that. “Hm. I’m gonna make a mess of the seat,” you complain drowsily, already feeling him begin to trickle out of you as his cock softens.

“‘S okay, baby,” he says, the scratch of his stubble oddly soothing as he kisses his way up your neck. “As soon as we get home I promise I’ll clean you up.”

His tongue traces a shockingly warm line up to the corner of your jaw, and your legs tremble at the suggestion.

“Very good boy,” you amend.

#Anonymous #frankie morales #frankie morales x female reader #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal character fic #pedro pascal #triple frontier #citrus variations #I will show myself to the sin bin now

1K notes · View notes

folkloreguk · 3 years

Text

an angel for a demon (2)

A/N: Part one came out like two years ago lmao but I’ve always wanted to write another part, and here it finally is! I’m always open to feedback of any kind! x

genre: smut, optional bias (male), demon!bias, angel!reader, reader’s first time, unprotected sex bc we pretend angels and demons can’t have babies or STDs apparently

words: ~ 3.4 k

PART 1

PART 3

Three days had passed since you had begun to live with him. It had taken you some time to get used to your new surroundings and to realize this is where you would spend most of your time from now on. His place was not what angels called beautiful. Had it been yours, it would have been filled with antique statues of heavenly beings, light, soft colors and comfortable pillows and blankets. But his taste differed gravely from yours. He had a love for black marble and accents of red. Not the beautiful, bright red of strawberries in summer. It was dark crimson, like deoxygenated blood fresh out of a wound. You felt like you had entered a side wing of hell itself, sometimes. But you knew hell had to be much, much worse.

On the second day, you had set yourself the challenge of making the place feel at least slightly homier. No one who entered this apartment would, even in their wildest dreams, assume that an angel lived there. Although you weren’t sure you could call yourself that, anymore. Your trip to the grocery store was the most humane thing you had ever done on earth, but surely wouldn’t stay the last. You wondered, while you had strolled around the isles, whether one day you could find yourself working a job on earth, now that you couldn’t call heaven home no more. You still had the desire to help the humans, and maybe you could earn a living whilst doing so.

On that note, you had pondered countless times how a demon could afford the luxury he lived in. But he wasn’t one to tell you about his day when he returned home after being out all night. He called it ‘demon business’ and ‘nothing that should concern a little angel’. One day, you would winkle it out of him. Although maybe you really would be better off not knowing. But you knew, as always that sooner or later your curiosity would get the best of you.

When he came home on the second day and laid eyes on the cotton candy-colored flowers on the table, he couldn’t help but smirk at how proud you were. The contrast was stark against the dark ebony table and seemed like an accurate representation of how you had felt in his home.

“If you wanted me to bring you flowers you could have just said so,” he said.

“I like going out to the store myself sometimes,” you replied. He was always so stern when he returned home. Sometimes he had tired eyes, and often he seemed physically exhausted. But the moment he laid eyes on you, his strained expression softened. Then, he’d stroke away a strand of your hair and gaze at you with utmost admiration. He had offered to buy you whatever your heart desired, but your angel life had never required you to have possessions. There was no greed or yearning for luxury, and you liked it that way.

One thing, however, you never seemed to get enough of on earth. No matter how many books you opened and got lost in, you always wanted more. And he knew of your wish to learn more about the world. He had gifted you books of philosophy, biology and physics, and yet he had no idea it wasn’t science that interested you the most.

Every night you lay awake for too long, reflecting on what he had said to you that one night. That there was more for you to learn. Before him, you never knew what real pleasure felt like – you weren’t supposed to, even now – but now that you understood, you only wanted to feel it again and again. A few times you had contemplated asking him to show you more. To let you feel the pure bliss of what heaven called sinning again. But he seemed tired when he returned home, and when he didn’t you were too scared to approach him with such a topic. Plus, you didn’t even know how to. Too new was the idea of you – an angel – even thinking of doing such unholy things.

So you spent your days pacing around the apartment, sitting by the window, looking out at the city and waiting for him to come home. One night, you couldn’t fall asleep, as on many other occasions. He wasn’t there next to you, and the bed felt too big for just one lonely angel in it. There was an almost burning sensation between your legs. Once again, you squeezed your eyes shut and thought of other things – floating on clouds, watching older angels’ wings flatter, inspecting your little village you used to guard from above. But nothing helped. It all led back to black eyes, razor teeth, a sharp tongue and hands so hellish in their actions, you should have wished he had never touched you. And yet you never did.

Your eyes shot open when you heard the shower turn on. The alarm clock on the table read 1:57 am. Not so patiently, you waited a few minutes until the sound of the water died down. Then, you tip-toed out of the room and down the hall.

The sight of him made your cheeks heat up. He was sat, in the dark, on the sofa. A towel was around his waist, a few drops of water glistening on his bare chest as he lifted the glass of alcohol to his lips.

“What are you doing standing and staring, little angel? Why don’t you come join me?” he suddenly asked. Your heart skipped a beat at his voice. Heaven help me now, you thought.

“I thought you didn’t…,” you started, slowly moving across the room as if you were floating.

“I didn’t notice you?” he finished your sentence. You hummed a quiet yes. “Your glow is hard to miss.”

You weren’t sure what he meant by that. Was he saying, that just as he had a dark aura around him, you radiated a bright one? It made sense to you. You stopped in your tracks when you stood in front of him.

“You’re wearing your angel dress again,” he pointed out. He had brought you clothes, but nothing felt as right on your body as your white dress you had always worn.

“I always sleep in it,” you said. “You never see it, since you’re never here.”

“Does my little angel miss me?” he said. His dark eyes watched you intently, but they softened when he realized you had meant your words. “Come here, let me make it up to you.”

Not knowing what he meant by those words, you plopped down next to him.

“I meant come here,” he repeated, tapping his lap. Oh. Obediently, you swung one of your legs over his waist. Suddenly, you were hyperaware of the fact that his towel was the only thing between your center and his bare skin. Carefully, you watched his eyes for instructions or assurance. You kept your hands tightly by your sides, not daring to touch his skin that shined so beautifully in the moonlight. It was almost ironic, how ethereal his perfectly sculpted muscles appeared to you.

“Tell me, angel, do you sometimes think about what we did three days ago?” he asked, softly brushing his fingers along your arm. You should have felt ashamed to admit it. But with the way he watched you, he seemed to already guess your answer.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about it,” you said, the words spilling out after keeping them in for too long. “I want to know more.”

He smirked, hooded black eyes watching your every breath while his head remained on the backrest of the sofa.

“Is that so?” he almost teased. “Why don’t you kiss me, then? Go ahead.”

Hesitantly, you bent forward until your forehead was almost touching his. Now, you didn’t look into his intimidating gaze anymore, but instead the closeness only made you more nervous. But more prominent than your nerves was your curiosity and your desire you hadn’t been able to shut out for the past days. You smelled a faint note of alcohol before you softly pressed your lips against his. Your kiss was the tender flutter of butterfly wings, like a singular snowflake landing on warm skin, as careful as a little bird in a lion’s cage.

But he kissed back, so overwhelmingly and suddenly, it robbed your breath in an instant. His body straightened up now, arms pulling you closer to his chest. Humming contently, he took your lifeless hands from your sides and placed them on his shoulders. His warm skin was inviting, making it easy for you to melt into his touch. Still, you weren’t used to this feeling. Maybe you would never get used to it. Perhaps it was supposed to be this exciting every single time. He breathed against your mouth heavily and his tongue swiped across your lips. The sensation was enticing and combined with his coaxing hands digging into your waist, your guilt washed away far too quickly. But there had been no redemption after the previous time and there wouldn’t be one now. Or ever. For a moment, you pulled away, needing air.

“Too much? Too fast?” he asked, cradling your face in his hands. A rush of comfort overcame you.

“No, I’m fine. It just feels – really good,” you said.

“Of course it does,” he bragged, smirking infamously.

“Can you…I want you to touch me…like you did last time,” you said. Even you were surprised at yourself. You could have just waited for him and he surely would have made you feel amazing. But now that you knew what it could feel like, you weren’t able to swallow your impatience.

“Such a sinful confession from such holy lips,” he said, voice dripping honey while he brushed two of his fingers across those very lips. “I wonder what other things those could do.”

What could he possibly be talking about? How much was there for you to try out? Whatever it was, you wanted to do it all. You had no idea what had come over you. Was there a secret demon that had taken possession of your body without notice? Or maybe you were simply an angel tired of acting like one.

Slowly, his hands dropped from your sides and to your hips. All while he watched your face like it was his favorite meantime to make you squirm under his touch. When he progressed to your thighs, something dropped in your stomach. Again, your body reacted before your mind did and you wanted to press your legs together. It felt familiar, but just as thrilling as the first time. His head tilted slightly as if to ask ‘do you like this?’ as he lifted the hem of your satin dress. And how you liked it.

You were very aware of being bare in front of him. So, in order to avoid feeling his eyes on your body, you bent forward again to kiss him. Bad idea – because the lack of oxygen and the loss of your sight when you closed your eyes only intensified the need. His fingertips were fleeting, rather non-demon-like, but you knew how fast he could flip his actions, had he wanted to.

They ghosted over your slit, collecting your wetness that had been pooling there. At even the slightest contact of his finger on your clit, you let out a quiet noise. He had been biting his lip, but when he heard you, his eyes met yours in an instant and he smirked.

“Let me hear you, little angel,” he said, before placing a kiss on your neck. While he continued to suck purple marks into your skin, his fingers toyed around your center, figuring out what made you react in the best way. And as the angel you were, always eager to please, you made sure you didn’t keep your mouth shut anymore. It felt weird, noticing the sounds he produced from you so involuntarily, but the more you concentrated on the feeling of his hand between your legs, the easier it was to ignore them.

Maybe you were easy to please, or perhaps you were completely see-through for him. It occurred to you he had you figured out head to toe. How did he know exactly which spots to touch to have you clinging to him, as if you would have fallen had he not held you? He drew random figures on your clit, variating the pace just to keep you on edge right where he wanted you. Now and then, his digits slid further down to your core, almost entering you but not quite yet. Your moans came out in a muffled manner as you had your face buried where his neck and shoulder met.

“Look at me, angel,” he said. So you did. No matter what sort of menace could have possibly lay behind his black orbs, the sound of his voice made you want to give him everything. And judging by the way your hips were moving and pushing against his hands by themselves you had already given your body to him. Against all odds, after all the horror stories you had been told to ensure an angel like you would stay far away from hellish beings, you trusted him.

“What a disgrace…They kept you locked up in heaven all this time,” he spoke. “I should have had you all along. You should have had me.”

It had never occurred to you that you could have looked at it this way. You had been happy in heaven. But then again, you hadn’t known what you had been missing. That’s when he slowly inserted one of his fingers into you. The sensation was unusual, but then he curled his digit and you understood.

“Oh god,” you let out when he touched a certain spot inside of you. It felt so right, you wondered why when you were able to feel this way, you should have been abstinent all along.

“Not exactly a good time to bring up god, huh?” he said, teeth nibbling on your neck. You laughed before you could have stopped yourself, and he looked stunned. But then, his lips curled into a malicious and content grin. At the same time, he added another finger into your core. His thumb remained rubbing against your clit, and like last time, you could feel a knot tying in your stomach as time went on. A string of whines and whimpers fell from your lips and your eyes shut tightly. But he decided you’d have to wait longer for your release.

“Do you think you can handle more?” he asked. You sighed when he retracted his hand from your core and watched as he brought his fingers up to his lips to taste you. His gaze didn’t let you decide whether he eyed you like prey or his most treasured thing in the world.

“Yes, I want you to show me,” you said quietly, almost breathless from the sight in front of you.

“Let’s go to the bedroom, then,” he announced. “It’ll be more comfortable for you.”

Your legs felt like jelly as you walked with him. This time, you didn’t hesitate to get onto his black bedsheets. It had become one of your favorite places to be in his apartment by now and the familiarity of it took away some of your nerves.

“I might be a demon, but I promise I can be gentle,” he said. His eyes were probably the most mellow they had ever been since you had met him. Carefully, he helped you slip out of your dress. “So don’t be scared, little angel.”

You had to admit, when he removed his towel from his waist and your eyes fell on his hard member, you weren’t sure if you would be okay. But then he bent down to you and kissed you. His hands softly stroked your cheeks, making it a hard contrast from his devilish image.

“Still sure?” he asked between kisses. It was like he was sucking the fear out of you, although he should have terrified you all along. You nodded and hummed but then changed your voice to a small whimper when he used his hand to run his cock over your slick center. Ever so carefully, he pushed himself inside of you. The stretch was uncomfortable, at first. He must had noticed by reading your face, because his eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“It’ll feel better in a bit, I promise,” he said. You relaxed your muscles the moment he kissed you again, his plan of distracting you surely working. When he had completely filled you up, he stayed in place while your tongues touched and you moaned at the feeling. It felt like he had always meant to be there, on top of you, inside of you.

“If you need me to stop or slow down, you’ll tell me, right?” he asked.

“Yes,” you answered. Once again you debated how you ended up this way. In bed with a demon. And said demon had his hooded black eyes on you, while he thrusted into you ever so slowly, and you couldn’t believe how out-of-this-world-perfect he looked. Although you would surely need more time to get used to the feeling, there was a hint of pleasure you felt every time he dragged his cock against your walls and that once special spot he had touched before.

Upon hearing how he moaned for the first time, you realized it wasn’t just touch that could make your stomach clench in a deep desire to be close to him. It sounded animalistic and you kept your eyes on the way his sharp teeth dug into his bottom lip. You sucked in a breath when he caressed your breasts, fingertips toying with your nipples.

“This is the closest to heaven I’ll ever get, right, little angel?” he spoke, and his gloating smile was so wicked, but handsome, right at that moment. You could only hum a ‘yes’. His lips on your neck were gentle, but your head spun whenever his teeth grazed your angel skin.

“You wouldn’t like it there, either way,” you said. His hand snaked down your body, between your legs where you had been missing them. He let out a growl-like moan when you clenched around his cock from the sudden added pleasure. In no time, he found your clit and used his skilled fingers, and he was right, this should have been the definition of heaven.

“And why is that?” he asked. “Because I couldn’t have you this way, in heaven?”

“Exactly,” you whimpered. “Oh- my-“

The desire to close your legs around him became bigger with each second, the knot in your belly tightening and your mind clouding with nothing but bliss.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re my own personal heaven,” he said. His free hand brushed away your hair delicately. “Are you gonna let go for me, sweet angel?”

You weren’t sure how to let go, exactly. But if by that he meant for you to close your eyes and just let the feeling wash over you, you would - without a choice - do so. Your high made your back arch against his chest and a small cry escaped your lips. He pushed his digits down on your center, slower now, but making sure to draw out every last second of your orgasm.

He had been speeding up his thrusts but then he pulled out, not wanting to cause you discomfort due to overstimulation. With his hand around his cock and quick movements of his wrist, he managed to bring on his own release, letting his cum spill out onto your thighs. You didn’t realize you had been holding your breath until you finally opened your eyes again, blinking tiredly and wetting your dry lips. He lowered his head until your foreheads touched. The more you looked into his black eyes, the more at home they made you feel.

“How was that, angel?” he asked, his breathing still unsteady.

“Heavenly,” you replied, pulling him in for a kiss. Even against his lips, you recognized his devilish smirk. And up to that point, you had believed ‘heaven on earth’ was just some silly little human saying. Until he proved you wrong.

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hookingminor · 4 years

Text

certified freak - pierre-luc dubois

a/n: there’s some whores in this house (it’s me, I'm the whore for pld) this is pure smut just imagine that covid isn’t a thing ok sorry it’s also not proofread hope u enjoy! like always feel free to leave me comments and lmk ur thoughts! yes this is loosely based on wap (bc that song was written for him)

word count: 2.7k

warnings (18+): slight daddy kink, light bdsm/choking, pld spitting in your mouth (god I fucking wish)

The deal was this: if Pierre got a hat trick, you allowed him to do whatever he wanted to you (not that this was much different from any other time.) In the rare event of a dick trick, he was allowed to do whatever he wanted for a week.

Tonight he’d had a hat trick. And during the qualifying round for playoffs. And for the game winning goal. To say he was excited to come home to you after the game was an understatement.

In fact, it was all he could think about as he changed out of his pads and got ready for the post-game interviews. It was also all you could think about as you watched him score in overtime.

Knowing he would be busy for a little while after the game considering he was the First Star of the night, Pierre sent you a text as he got dressed.

I want you in nothing but my jersey when I get home

Your pussy fluttered at the message, your cheeks heating instantly when you read it. A few other girls asked if you were going out with them afterwards, but they all knew what you really meant when you said you just planned on celebrating alone with Pierre.

You left the arena soon after the game ended, and it took you nearly forty-five minutes just to get out of the parking garages. When you got back to your apartment, you checked your phone for Blue Jackets updates and watched a few of Pierre’s videos.

A lot of the questions centered around him, being as performed so well, but you were shocked at his coy replies to reporters.

“You’re now one game away from clinching a spot in the playoffs. Are you going to celebrate tonight or wait until you win that final game?” One man asked.

“I’ll probably just have a quiet night in tonight,” he chuckled with a smirk, and you knew immediately what he was thinking, “I’ll save the celebrating for afterwards.”

Maybe you were being a little impatient, but you took off your jeans and panties about half an hour before he said he’d be home. You unhooked your bra and tore it off immediately after removing your bottoms.

You let your hands drift lower on your body, slipping your fingers underneath the hem of Pierre’s large jersey. You’d been wet since leaving the arena, and now you were practically dripping onto your fingers as you waited in anticipation. Pierre wasn’t supposed to be home for another fifteen minutes, you had plenty of time to have a little bit of fun.

You spread your fingers through your folds, eyes shutting as you began to focus on the pleasure building in your body.

“Starting without me?” You heard a voice say. Your eyes snapped open, and you retracted your hand from your core in an instant.

Pierre stood in the doorway as he dropped his duffel bag to the ground. He stalked across the room over to the bed, looming over you as he tugged you closer by your ankles. You leaned up on your elbows and met his heated gaze.

“I thought the deal was I get to do whatever I want?” He asked, “I don’t remember giving you permission to touch yourself.”

“Sorry, Luc,” you breathed out, “I didn’t think you’d be home this early.”

The look he gave you told you that was the wrong thing to say.

“So you thought you could get yourself off without me knowing?” He raised his brow. You shook your head vigorously, hoping to backtrack.

“No, I—,” you began to apologize, but Pierre lifted his hand to grip your chin. He cut off your sentence by pressing his thumb against your lips to silence you. Slipping his thumb into your mouth, you instinctively closed your lips around them.

“I think you’ve done enough talking,” he replied, “Suck.”

Hollowing your cheeks, you sucked against his tongue and pressed your tongue to the pad of his thumb. Pierre’s eyes darkened as he gazed down at you. He pulled his thumb from your mouth, which sounded with an audible ‘pop.’

“On your knees,” he commanded, stepping back from the bed so he could unbuckle his belt. Eagerly, you lowered yourself onto the floor in front of him and placed your hands behind your back just the way he liked. On nights like these, all he wanted to do was take. And you were more than willing to give.

Pierre pulled down his dress pants along with his boxers before kicking them off to the side. His shirt was quick to follow and soon he was bunching your hair into one hand and tapping your chin with the other. You understood the signal. You opened your mouth at his indication and let your tongue roll out as you awaited his next move.

“Remember what to do if it gets to be too much?” He asked finally. In times like these, it wasn’t possible for you to use your safe word. So, since you weren’t able to touch him anyway, all you had to do was dig your nails into the back of his calves if it became too much for you to take.

You nodded your head in agreement.

“I need your words, baby,” he said tenderly as his fingers brushed against your cheek, contrasting the way he was about to completely destroy you.

“Yes,” you replied.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, daddy.”

Pierre’s hand tightened its hold in your hair before he slid into your mouth. He brought his other hand to grip at the base of your neck to help push himself deeper. Your tongue met the underside of his dick, and you closed your lips around his throbbing length.

He began with a few slow, deep thrusts, getting you accustomed to his size. You sucked harshly around his tip when he pulled back, and you felt his abs tighten at your movement.

“You good?” He checked in, staring into your dilated pupils. You nodded the best you could and punctuated it with another long suck.

Taking your answer as a green light, he gave you a dark look before increasing his pace. Pierre’s hips thrusted faster now, his cock hitting the back of your throat with each snap of his hips before he retreated.

He fucked your face with force, and you felt yourself gag around him every time he thrusted back a little further than the last time. Tears welled your eyes as you made eye contact with Pierre, and he felt his balls tighten as he gazed down at the mascara running down your cheeks.

Pierre’s jaw dropped in a low groan as he watched his cock disappear into your mouth and down your throat.

“Fuck, baby,” he grunted as your doe-like eyes met his.

His thrusts became a bit more erratic, and you tightened your lips even further against him as you knew he was about to hit his high.

“Gonna swallow for me?” He asked, shoving his cock deeper. You didn’t even want to think about how badly your makeup had run by now, but you gave him a pleading look to keep going.

Reaching his high, Pierre paused his hips mid-thrust, stopping as you swallowed around him. He pulled back a couple inches before his head fell back in pleasure and you felt his cum hit your tongue.

You swallowed as much as you could but felt a little bit dribble out of the corner of your mouth. Pierre pulled out of your mouth completely, and you brought your finger up to wipe the remaining cum before sucking it off.

“God, you are so fucking hot,” he praised, affectionately wiping away your smeared mascara.

Helping you up onto your feet, Pierre pulled you into his arms and dipped his head down to kiss you roughly.

“Congrats on your hat trick,” you congratulated between breaths. Picking you up with his large hands, he lightly tossed you back onto the bed before crawling over you.

“If only I could’ve scored one more,” he said wistfully, his mind imagining all the things he could do to you in a week.

“Maybe try a little harder next time,” you teased, bringing him back down to meet your lips.

He chuckled at your joke as he dipped his head to your neck to place open mouthed kisses against the skin there.

Pierre’s hands trailed up underneath his jersey and squeezed around your breast. Your mouth opened in a small gasp, and he twisted one nipple between his fingers as he bit at your neck.

He pulled back for a moment to slide further down your body. He pushed up the bottom of the jersey to bunch around your waist to reveal your dripping pussy.

“Baby, you’re soaked,” he commented in awe, “This all for me?”

“Always for you,” you moaned as he ducked down to bite at the inside of your thigh.

“Is this pussy mine?” He asked, meeting your gaze from between your legs. His tongue licked up your thighs until he stopped just outside of your folds.

“Yes,” you let out a shaky breath, “Only yours.”

Content with your answer, he licked a strong stripe up from your entrance to your clit. Your hand immediately flew down to grip at his hair that was beginning to curl with its extra length. His beard rubbed against your cunt, and your back arched off the bed with the added friction.

One arm reached out to keep you pressed into the mattress and your attempts to grind into his face were halted.

His tongue circled around your clit before he closed his lips around it. Sucking at your sensitive nub, you gasped in pleasure. Pierre ate you out fervently, you hadn’t even noticed he’d brought his fingers to your cunt until he’d slipped two inside of you.

He fucked you gently with his fingers as his tongue worked wonders on your clit. With his beard scraping against your folds, you felt your climax hit you suddenly and intensely.

Your toes curled as the white-hot pleasure ripped through your body. Pierre eased you through it, keeping his tongue light on your pussy until the shockwaves were over.

Before you’d gotten a chance to catch your breath, Pierre moved back up your body and engulfed you in a hot kiss.

You felt your wetness in his beard as his tongue entered your mouth to tangle with yours. You could taste yourself on him and you moaned at the feeling.

One of your hands snaked down between your bodies to grasp at Pierre’s cock, which was already starting to stiffen again. You pumped him a couple times in your hand until his grabbed your wrist to stop your movements. He removed your hand from him and moved it above your head. He took hold of your free hand to join the one trapped in his grip to immobilize you completely.

“Keep them there,” he stated before removing his hands.

You followed his orders obediently, and he rewarded you with a quick kiss. Pulling back, Pierre lined himself up with your entrance before thrusting into you sharply.

Your hands clutched onto the sheets beneath them as he began fucking you at a relentless pace. One hand rested by your head to steady himself as his other pressed fingertip-shaped bruises into your hips.

Pierre busied himself by sucking hickies into your neck as you bit your lip in ecstasy.

Your eyes flittered open as he moved his hand to your jaw. Squishing your cheeks together slightly, your mouth opened in a small “O” at the force, and something went unspoken between you two.

You let your tongue fall and relax as you stared into Pierre’s eyes. His grip changed so your chin was held between his thumb and pointer finger, and he took a second to gather some spit before he let it drop into your open mouth and onto your tongue.

“Jesus, fuck,” Pierre cursed, admiring the way you looked under him. His lips were back on yours almost immediately after, moaning into you.

When he pulled back, he pulled out of you in a quick motion. Pierre flipped you over onto your stomach and was piledriving back into you before you could complain.

Your face smushed into the mattress and Pierre’s arm stretched out to use your back as leverage while he pounded into you.

“I love seeing my name across your back,” he grunted out, his hands briefly moving to trace over the number ‘18.’

“Please, Luc,” you moaned into the sheets, “I’m so close.”

“What was that, baby?” He questioned, moving your hair aside to nip at your ear. You knew he heard you the first time, but he loved to hear you beg for it.

“Please let me come, daddy,” you whimpered, about to bubble over from pleasure, “I need it so badly.”

Pierre pulled your back against his chest, and his hand wandered up to your neck. He closed it around your neck lightly, applying just the right amount of pressure to push you over the edge. The fingers on his other hand snaked down, and he rubbed tight circles onto your clit.

It didn’t take long before you fell over that familiar edge for the second time that night. Your head fell back onto his shoulder, and Pierre released unsteady breaths against your neck. His hand tightened around your throat for a few seconds as he thrusted up into your cunt, chasing his own high.

He let out a loud groan of relief as he released into you. You felt his warmth spread throughout your pussy.

Pierre went still beneath you and his hand loosened his grip on your throat. You both panted as you tried to catch your breaths.

Slowly, Pierre lifted you off of his dick, and you felt some of his cum drip out of you and onto his thighs. His eyes fell down to the sight of you dripping onto him, and he let out another low moan.

Before he decided to flip you back around and fuck you again, he removed himself from you altogether. Gently, he laid you down on the bed and retreated to the bathroom.

In your blissed out state, you hadn’t even noticed his absence until you felt Pierre spreading your legs again. You flinched at the feeling of the washcloth between your folds as he cleaned you up.

He tossed the washcloth somewhere on the ground, making a note to throw it in the laundry later. You still laid on the bed with your eyes closed as your breath finally began to even out.

Pierre joined you and rested on his forearm as he watched you regain your composure. His fingers darted out to trail over the skin on your stomach from where your jersey had ridden up.

“God, I wish I scored hat tricks more often,” he said after a few moments of silence.

“Oh please,” you chuckled, “You know you can do this almost any time you want.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same,” he mumbled, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

You hummed in agreement as you rolled yourself onto your side to face him. Your hand reached up to rub at the beard covering his chin. Normally, he didn’t grow it out this much, so you were thankful playoffs were still ahead.

“You should keep this,” you said, letting the hair scratch at your fingers.

“Oh yeah?” He asked, a smirk tugging at his lips. You nodded your head before leaning in to kiss him. Different from before, his lips sensually caressed yours, conveying all the love he had for you.

“Night’s not over just yet,” he said when you pulled back. You furrowed your brows in confusion at his statement.

“I think I can fit in one more round in the shower,” he suggested cockily as his fingers brushed over your hips, the indentations of bruises already beginning to form.

“Well, you did score a hat trick,” you concurred, “Can you get it done in twenty minutes?”

Pierre’s eyes flew to the alarm clock on your nightstand, and it was indeed 11:40. It wasn’t a rule that his celebrations ended at midnight, but you’d just challenged Pierre and he was not about to back down now.

“I only need ten,” he teased, tugging you off the bed and into the bathroom.

#pierre luc dubois #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #nhl smut #my writing #yeah I wanna get rawed by pld #what about it #jets13

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