#do you not have a redneck to be under

[ladywuvly]

♱ long before (s2!daryl dixon x green!f!reader)

summary|| As fate would have it, a devastating tragedy compelled your father to open up your front gates to a group of families seeking refuge from the new world. Amidst the unexpected turn of events, a certain individual with piercing blue eyes, a colorful vocabulary, and a rugged charm manages to capture your attention. However, as tensions rise and emotions become complicated, you're forced to confess your deepest desires. wc: 6.9k

warnings|| MDNI; 18+ content, semi-public, blood/violence + mentions of, swearing, size kink (if you squint), smut, fingering/handjob (f!m!receiving), unprotected sex (p!v), rough sex, bodily fluids (sp!t/squ!rt), praise, agegap, begging, breeding, cockwarming;

masterlist. socials. rec.

It wasn't every day there were new people at the farm, let alone living people. However, when your older sister's shrilling voice called for your father and the all too familiar smell of fresh blood came wafting through the front door, you knew the peaceful salvation of your childhood home was no longer hidden from the terrors of the new world. 

That had been weeks ago; before families were camped out under the shade of the oak trees in your front yard, before Otis had died, before you had met Rick, or before you had sat and comforted Lori as her son lay dying in the blood-stained sheets of your guest bedroom. 

Long before they'd found any evidence of Carol's little girl being anywhere nearby, and even longer before a certain blue-eyed, foul-mouthed, redneck had caught your attention. 

You'd heard him ride in with the rest of them. Watching him from behind the white, wooden column of the porch. Tanned, dirt and sweat-covered skin, dressed in a sleeveless button-up that exposed the toned muscles of his arms, which flexed as he flicked the kick-stand down and stepped off the motorbike. 

It didn't take long for you to make friends with the rest of the group. Although, no matter how often you tried making peace with the shaggy-haired man, he always seemed to push you further and further away. 

Perhaps he knew what you were trying to do. Like he'd somehow discovered your ploy. How you'd show up at his tent on the outskirts of the camp, dressed in those frilly little sun dresses, presenting him with something or another that always made his heart swell up in contentment. 

No matter how short he was with you, or how many times he told you it was 'nun of y'er business', he still couldn't help but feel unworthy as he watched you frolic your way towards his islet tent.

It wasn't until he had heard you one morning, from the other side of the bathroom door, that was when he knew he was fucked.

Carol had demanded he'd shower, it did no good to have him 'stinking up every place he went' as she had put it. He had scoffed before eventually agreeing a shower might actually do him some good.

A place where he could relax for a short time, stretch out his strained muscles in the lukewarm water as he cleared his head from the millions of thoughts he had since their arrival.

The water was already running and he was praying that whoever it was in there, wasn't using up the rest of the warm water. He was about ready to bang on the door and call out a harsh 'hurry up in there'. That was until he heard the sweet sound of your voice from inside, suddenly rendering him speechless.

"oh daryl..." All high pitched and slurred, in that sweet honey-coated tone filled with urgency and pleasure. He wanted to move, he truly did.

You were just a girl, maybe 8 or 9 years younger than him. You didn't know what you were doing, acting solely on desire and lust, still foolish and ignorant about the real world.

That is what he told himself, as he imagined what you must've looked like in the moment. Hand shoved between the milky plush of your thighs, the same ones he'd caught himself staring at more times than he'd like to admit.

Skin flushed under the warm water and steam of the shower, face displaying a consuming look of pleasure, as your orgasm coaxed little whimpers and whines out of your parted lips. "daryl, daryl, daryl..."

He couldn't stand there any longer after listening to you finish. Rushing through the front door and down the porch steps before hastily grabbing his crossbow and wandering off in hopes of finding anything to distract himself from the blasphemous image of you.

Little did he know that wasn't the first time you had touched yourself to the thought of him.

Earlier that morning you'd woken up from an erotic-filled sleep, slick and sticky, panties clinging to the dripping arousal of your cunt as you rubbed your thighs together hoping to provide enough friction to lazily get yourself off.

You huffed and turned over a few times before giving up. Throwing the covers off and exposing yourself to the nipping cold of your bedroom.

You walked towards the window, hoping that the sight of the barely rising sun, was excuse enough to crawl back under the covers and rest for a few more minutes, before having to get up to start your early morning chores. However, the sight below you caused a chill to run up your spine, as goosebumps littered your skin.

He stood below your window, the picnic bench in front of him occupied by his crossbow, and the remains of his catch for this morning's breakfast.

The way he so effortlessly worked on his kill; cleaning, gutting, and skinning whatever poor little forest critter so foolishly crossed his path.

The sight of his muscular arms, as they flexed and strained, was alluring compared to his gore-full actions, and before you knew what you were doing, your hand snuck under the hem of your short, floral nightie.

Resting a hand against the window-pane as your other slipped into your panties. Your fingers played with the wetness of your arousal, coating them in your slick as you eased them past your slippery lips and into your weeping entrance.

You moaned quietly, pulling them back out to rub circles against your swollen clit and then plunging them back into your aching cunt again. Repeating the action over and over again, as you ogled the man before you.

You imagined what it would feel like to have his hands on you, instead of your own. Bigger and rougher, the callused skin of his palms running along the softness of your waist and hips, as he'd rock you back and forth on the pads of his fingers.

Gripping his forearm for leverage as you quivered against him. The pure strength of his bicep, which you'd grip at to keep yourself from collapsing into a puddle of sweat and cum.

His warm breath fanning against your cheek and neck, as he encouraged you with those sweet little praises. "You like that, huh? You like that, sweetheart?...Come on, sweet girl don't you want to cum?"

Your walls tightened as you became painfully close to the edge. Your legs trembled, knees buckling as you held yourself up against the glass. Your orgasm was bliss, soaking your thighs and hand with your release, as you muffled a cry, biting your bottom lip in order to keep yourself quiet.

Coming back down from your high you quickly stepped away from the window shamefully. Your skin felt hot and sticky, and even after just getting yourself off, you wanted more, you needed more.

You decided a shower would be best, something relaxing and isolate where you could refresh yourself, before having to go about your day.

It had been a few hours and you were now seated by the burning embers from this morning's fire, helping put together whatever you could find to make some sort of breakfast for everyone before they all got to work for the day.

You spotted Daryl as he made his way out of your house and back towards the camp. His hair, a darker shade of brown, as fresh water droplets dripped down the recently cleaned skin of his neck.

God, what you would give for him to let you lick it up with the flick of your tongue.

You imagined what he'd smell like, what he tasted like. His scent, wouldn't be clouded with any fragrance that distracted from his natural musk. His skin, warm and inviting against the drag of your tongue. You could feel yourself getting wet at just the thought of him.

Quickly you grabbed a plate and made your way up across the grass, stopping in front of him as he was headed towards the RV. You watched him freeze, his eyes casted down and away from you, causing you to frown at his refusal to meet your gaze.

"Here, I know it's not much... but you should eat something."

You offered him the small plate, only for him to hum and shake his head. "'m fine." You were concerned at his refusal. He was not a man of many words, but that didn’t mean dismissing you like this altogether. He'd normally just take whatever it was you were offering him, before going back to whatever it was he was doing.

"Look... everyone's eaten and you know nobody's going to be seen harboring back for seconds, given our circumstances." You laughed it off in hopes of lightening the mood. Only when you looked back at him, did you notice the look of anger take over his features.

"No you look... I don't know what ya' think this is, but we're not 'ere ta' make no friends. Our only priority is findin' a way ta' get the hell off this farm, and whether or not I eat this piss-pour excuse of a breakfast, is gonna change that. Ya' hearin' me?"

His words caught you off guard. They were harsh and filled with hurt, and knowing that those around you had most likely turned to look at him, once the sound of his voice had risen, was humiliating.

It was mean and patronizing, and you were embarrassed that he'd thought he could talk to you like that. Like you were just some ignorant girl. Like someone who didn't really know what was actually going on.

It didn't take you very long to flee after that. You had almost scoffed at him before shoving the plate of food into his chest and brushing past his shoulder.

You weren't going to let everyone see just how much his words had gotten to you, so you lifted your head and walked with poise back towards your house.

Only once you'd made it into the solidarity of your kitchen did you let out the breath you were holding. Cursing at yourself for not seeing it sooner, by letting the way he made you feel cloud your judgment of who he really was, who he really thought you were.

In that moment you decided for yourself to just push down this stupid little crush and focus on what was important. Helping get these people back on their feet, so they could get a move on.

You consumed yourself with chores the next few days. Helping Lori with laundry, Carol with any cooking, and even offered Andrea a hand maintaining the few guns your father had let them keep, while helping protect the farm.

She was pleasantly surprised at how much you knew about such weapons, but you quickly reminded her how you'd grown up and where exactly you were raised. This only encouraged her to teasingly call you a 'hick', before asking if you wanted to go shooting with her and Shane the next time they went out. You told her you'd think about it before excusing yourself from the RV.

That night you sat with them beside the dying fire, and it didn't take long before you felt the heat of a lingering gaze on you. However, this one was dark and grim, greedy and predatory. Unlike the light, pastel blue eyes you were so familiar with.

These felt thieving, like they were just waiting watching for the chance to get you alone, secluded and out of the keen sight of others.

You felt it best to turn in for the night. Walking back towards the house you weren't scared, far from it, you knew this farm like the back of your hand and yet you still felt unease.

The snap of a twig behind you caused you to gasp, as you expected a walker to step out in front of you and bite your face clean off. However, the sight of Shane emerging from the shadows was strangely just as frightening. Those temperamental eyes that looked you up and down, caused you to wrap your arms a little tighter around yourself.

"Andrea tells me you're good with a gun. Real good..."

Nodding compliantly, hoping it would satisfy him to cut the conversation short and allow you to escape inside. Except your silence only made him pursue you even more.

"She's giving me more credit than I deserve. My father taught me how to shoot, that's all." You quickly remitted.

Shane wandered closer and you took a quick look back at the house, trying to estimate how many steps you would need to take in order to get back inside if need be.

"What is your deal then, hm?"

"My deal?"

"I just mean, I'm trynna figure you out."

"I guess there's just not much to figure."

"Oh, but that's where you're wrong. I just want to know what makes a pretty young thing, such as yourself swoon so hard over that dirty old red-neck." You're shocked at the accuracy of his accusation.

"I think I'm tired, and it's getting late, and I'd like to go to bed. Goodnight Shane."

"Now just wait a min-Everythin' alright?" Daryl suddenly emerged from behind you and you'd soon grown frustrated.

You hadn't seen nor spoken to him in the last few days yet, here he was showing up to save you like you were some damsel in distress.

Dragging a hand through your hair and letting out an exasperated sigh. You watched as Shane stepped closer to the both of you. "You got impeccable timing, you know that?"

"Hell's that suppose to mean?"

"Nothin' man, just getting to know our hosts a little better, that's all."

"Yeah? Well don't."

Scoffing at both of the men, drawing their attention back to you. "I'm not standing around here to watch a cock-fight. Both of you, just leave me the hell alone." You left them at the bottom of the porch steps.

"Wait a sec... Just stop!... I'm sorry!" You froze, halfway through the door frame.

Slowly, you turned around to find Daryl standing at the bottom of the stairs, nervously scratching at the back of his neck.

"What?"

"I was pissed, 'n took it out on ya'. Wasn't right."

"Carol make you come up here."

"Nah, feel bad... didn't mean to hurt ya'."

You were genuinely surprised that he'd come back to apologize all on his own. Looking away from him seemed to be the only way to keep a smile from breaking out on your face. You nodded and hoped it was enough to get him to retreat, but he didn't.

"Hey..."

He called, making you look up at him through your lashes.

"When I say m'sorry, I mean it."

You nodded again quickly. "I believe you."

It was now his turn to nod this time, as he drummed his thumb against the side of his leg. "Only... you owe me another apology."

"Hmm?"

"That breakfast... was not piss-poor… made that with love." You teased, leaning up against the door frame.

He stifled a laugh and kicked at the dirt in front of him. "M'sorry 'bout that too then."

You couldn't help but flash a warm smile at him while you watched him fidget before you. Stepping back onto the porch and descending the steps until you stood face-to-face with him at the bottom.

You gazed into his eyes and despite the slight height you got from the stair, you found yourself still having to tilt your head up to meet his gaze. You couldn't help but feel a sense of curiosity, as there was an indescribable emotion hidden within them.

Rather than trying to put it into words, you decided to thank him. Affectionately rising up onto your tiptoes and planting a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Goodnight, Daryl."

Then with a smile, you made your way back up the stairs and towards the front door, as you finally entered the house.

You didn't sleep well that night, tossing and turning for hours before you eventually gave up on sleep altogether.

Once the sun began to rise you slipped on your boots and grabbed a sweater, hoping maybe an early morning walk could help you clear your thoughts.

They only really consisted of one thing, Daryl. Even though he apologized, that hadn't been the only time he'd been short with you. Sure, it was the first time he'd actually yelled at you.

You wondered why he had been so mean, what had made him snapping at you so early in the early morning, when you were just trying to be kind to him? What had happened that he was already pissed off about?

Coming up late last night when Shane had been trying to 'get to know you', and as much as he made you uncomfortable, why did Daryl feel the need to interrupt?

Did he secretly despise you that much that he had to ward off people from trying to befriend you? It confused you, how such a seemingly simple man suddenly became so complex.

You hadn't realized how far you had wandered until the sight of the old brick chimney came into view. You knew it was time to turn back when you'd somehow managed to subconsciously walk towards the one thing that was causing you so much troubled.

"What're ya' doin'?"

You gasped at the gruff sound of his voice. Turning around to see Daryl not too far from you. He looked well rested, like he'd just woken up.

"Couldn't sleep. Needed some time to think, figured a walk'd do me some good."

"So ya' wondered all the way out 'ere."

"I guess so."

He looked off from you, not having anything else to say, or maybe just not having the words. "Did I do something? I mean... to bother you or upset you in some way. I get it now that you're not one to make friends, but after you apologized… I just don't know what I did to deserve you making sure everyone stays clear of me."

"Like ya' talk with Shane was so friendly."

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

There was a pause as you waited for Daryl to speak.

"I heard ya'..."

Your face scrunched in confusion and Daryl sighed. He'd hoped you'd understood what he was talking about without having to go into much detail about it.

"Sayin' my name..."

Your eyes widened and you flushed bright red in embarrassment.

"I- I'm sorry, I thought the window was closed... I-"

"Window? Nah... in the shower..."

You became even more humiliated, not only by the fact that he had heard you touching yourself to the thought of him, but as you accidentally confessed how you'd done it more than just the once.

"Look y're a real pretty girl 'n all, but it just ain't right... With yer father lettin' us stay 'ere, it wouldn't be right."

"So you're saying if this wasn't the circumstance where we met, you'd take me to bed?"

"That ain't what I'm sayin'."

"Then what are you saying, Daryl?"

"That m'pushing 30 and y're barely 20..."

"21... 'n I'm not a child, Daryl. Not where it counts..."

"Shouldn't be sayin' that."

"Why? Why does it matter? We're both adults. There's not a soul in that house that would even give a damn. The world has ended, there are no laws, no morals to live by anymore. There's only wants and needs, and I don't want to be scared anymore... and I need you..."

You stepped closer to him, eyes never leaving his as you bravely confessed your feelings. "Tell me... Tell me that you don't need me."

You watched his pale blue eyes as he studied your face. It was as if he was almost trying to decide whether or not this was real, whether or not you were real.

"I can't... but I can't give you what you want either..."

"You can-No, I can't"

"What is it you think that I want?"

"Why me, huh?... What is it about me that you need?" He dismissed your question with one of his own.

"I see the way that you are... with Rick... with Carol. You want to protect us, I know that."

He tried to brush you off, turning around to distance himself from you, but you grabbed his arm, stepping ahead of him to stop him from walking away from you. "Don't run from me. I may not know what you were like before this, but I know who you are now. I know why you showed up last night..."

"Ya' don't know nothin' ." He spit out.

"I know you wanted to protect me. I know that's why you warded off Shane, and why you apologized. You might not know why, but I do. It's because you care. You care about me... and us, and this place, and you can pretend all you want like you don't, but you can't fool me, Daryl."

You hadn't let go of him and you reached out to grab his other hand. He flinched and tried to pull back from you, but you didn't let him. Bringing his hand up to cup your cheek as you looked up at him longingly.

"So stay with me... Tell me that you do need me... and don't let anyone take me away from you..." All he did was stare at you, his hand remained relaxed against your cheek.

You were about to drop it in defeat and sulk your way back to the house, but his hand flexed, fingers threading into your hair and pulling you closer to him. You closed your eyes as he rested his forehead against yours. His breath was ragged and you were afraid he was going to pull back and leave you all alone.

He nudged the tip of your nose with his before tilting your head back and finally slotting his lips against your own. Leading closer into him, your grip on his arm tightened and you tugged him closer by the collar of his shirt. His hand still in your hair, pulled you into his needy mouth as his arm wrapped around your waist to keep you firmly pressed up against him.

You put every last bit of your doubt into the kiss, hoping he'd take it all away from you. That he could somehow tell you that you were right without having to pull his lips away from yours.

His hands began to wander, gripping at you wherever he could. Brushing your hair over your shoulders, and pulling at the sleeves of your sweater to run his hands over the exposed skin of your back. Hooking your arm around his neck and kissing him fiercely as he leaned down into you.

You opened your mouth for him as his hands traveled down over your waist. He rocked you against him, pressing you into his hips causing you to gasp into his mouth at the feeling of his erection digging into your stomach.

His hands didn't stop, leaving behind a trail of fire in their wake as he continued to caress as much of your skin as he could. He took a step forward and you stumbled for only a moment before he lifted you off of your feet and wrapped your legs around his hips.

He led you both over to his camp, ripping open his partially zipped tent before ducking the both of you inside. You hadn't pulled your mouth from his neck, and when he finally set you on trembling legs you were able to see just how much damage you'd done to the heated skin.

He began stripping you of your sweater as you simultaneously worked on the buttons of his shirt, only you hesitated at the sight of the pronounced tainted skin on his chest. His shirt was pushed off his shoulders, hanging around his elbows allowing his arms minimal movement to clutch at your waist.

Your fingers traced over the scars causing him to flinch, reaching up to pull your hands from his body. He looked at your face, utterly surprised when it wasn't a look of disgust or pity gracing your soft features. Instead, a small smile and a look of admiration.

He let your hands slowly rest back against his heaving chest. Caressing your wrists as you went back to tracing the darkened skin. He closed his eyes when you'd touched a particularly deep one, shivering as fantom pain shot across his shoulder.

You froze and he opened his eyes to see you looking back up at him worriedly. He hummed and leaned closer, nudging his nose against the side of yours before kissing you softly. "S'okay... don't hurt."

You nodded, slowly pushing his shirt the rest of the way off his arms, letting it fall, discarded on the ground behind him. You toed off your boots as he led you back towards his cot. Placing kisses along each new area of your body he exposed to the chilled morning air, as he pulled off your sweater and slip.

It soon joined his shirt and his own boots on the floor as he laid you bare on his sleeping bag, which was accompanied by a few thick blankets and a single pillow.

He pulled back to look at you, kneeling between your parted legs. Your hair, fanned out around your head in a halo as your skin flushed pink. A few marks along your neck and chest, turning a dark purple, a harsh comparison to your delicate complexion. It caused his heart to beat furiously, as his chest filled with pride.

You whined and reached out for him hoping he fall back down against you. Only he took your hands in his and pinned them against the blankets. His fingers laced and gripped tightly onto yours as he dove back into your neck and chest to continue his assault on your sensitive skin.

Your back arched as he sucked and nipped at the tender skin of your throat and your hips rolled against his, chasing that feverish need for pleasure. He pulled away from you again and you almost cried, but at the rustling sound of fabric and the jingle of his belt you whimpered in anticipation.

He was back on you before you could even call out for him. Hands ripping your panties down your legs, caressing the soft skin of your ankle, and placing a kiss to the muscular physique of your calf. "Daryl..."

There it was, that oh so familiar plead of his name, laced with lust and desire.

"Again..." He demanded.

"Daryl?... please, Daryl..."

He crawled between your legs, resting against the pillow with his hands on either side of your head. His lips caught yours as you caressed his sides. Hands traveling over his back, only to find more scars etched into his hardened skin.

You moaned into his mouth, pulling him even tighter against you, grinding your hips into his erection, which strained against the fabric of his boxers.

He growled and kissed your lips deeper, ignoring the voice in the back of his head telling him to stop. Telling him that he wasn't worthy enough. That he didn't deserve the privilege of touching your flawless skin with his tainted hands, or pressing his roughened lips against your delicate ones.

However, as your hand caught him firmly around the neck, keeping him from pulling away from you, and your hips eagerly bucked against his once again, as a symphony of your pleasure flowed into his mouth, the voice fell silent. Drowned out and muffled by you, and you alone.

Your fingers toyed with the waistband of his underwear, teasing the trail of hair leading down from his navel, before slipping underneath the fabric. His breath hitched as your nimble fingers wrapped tightly around the base of his cock, tugging at him skillfully.

He leaned in, resting his forehead against your temple, his lips parted as his breath quickened. You continued to attentively pump your hand up and down his hardened length. The fingers of your other hand tenderly running through his hair, showering him with affection as your lips brushed against his flushed cheek, leaving a trail of lingering kisses on his heated skin.

"f-fu... Fuck..." He stammered, his hands tightened around the quilts, his arms trembling as he struggled to maintain his advantage above you.

He suddenly pulled your hand off from around him, pinning it back onto the bed. "S'enough... won't last if ya' keep that up."

He groaned, trailing his free hand down between your bodies, as his fingers parted your lips, playing gently with your dripping folds. The sound of his voice in your ear sent shivers down your spine, causing you to gasp in pleasure. You instinctively clung onto him as you tugged lightly on his hair in an attempt to encourage him.

Daryl only hummed into your skin, nuzzling his face into your neck as he continued collecting your arousal on the tips of his callused fingers, spreading your wetness around your swollen, aching clit.

If it were anyone else, you might have felt self-conscious about how wet he'd made you from something as simple as his hands against your skin, or how perfectly his body fit against yours, but with Daryl, all your thoughts melted away. Everything just felt so comfortable, so right.

His fingers circled the rim of your entrance, slipping gently between your lips. You guided him back up to your awaiting mouth from his spot nuzzled in the valley of your breasts, where he'd taken his sweet time kissing and nipping at the swell of them.

His mouth latched onto yours, sucking at your lips and teasing you by grazing his teeth over them softly. You couldn't help but revel in the comfort and pleasure of his touch.

His finger eased smoothly into your slick entrance. Your walls drawing them in with an eager clench as a rush of pleasure washed over you, causing you to moan against him. His fingertip caressed against the certain spot deep inside of you.

You arched your back in ecstasy as he suddenly added another finger. He stretched you even further causing you to let out a pleasureful moan that made him pause and instantly detach from your lips.

Looking at you in disbelief, he couldn’t believe the sight before him, the way your hips began to hump against his hand, aiding to the pleasure coiling in the pit of your stomach.

You were absolutely breathtaking in your blissed-out state. His fingers stilled causing you to whine in frustration leaving you craving their pleasurable drag, in and out of your walls.

He sat up, pulling them from your weeping cunt to watch himself as he spread your arousal around your messy clit. You nodded your head profusely. "Don't stop..."

Your chest heaved, rising and falling in anticipation as he slipped his fingers back inside of you. His thighs were tensing beneath yours, trying his hardest not to grind against you, lost in his own pleasure.

That's when you felt him, your knees tightened around his hips as his cock started riding shamelessly against your inner thigh. You reached for his face, getting him to look back up at you as you caressed his jaw. "Please, Daryl... I need you-I need to feel you inside of me."

His fingers pulled back out from your entrance, popping them into his mouth, and licking them clean. Hoping to satisfy his craving of you with just a subtle taste of your sweet cunt.

He gripped at your waist, thumbs massaging circles against your hip-bones as he imagined tasting you straight from the source.

His lips were back on yours in seconds, hands pushing his boxers down franticly, and before you had the chance to catch your breath he'd already lined up at your entrance.

The head of his cock smeared in your slick as he teased you. He could feel your warmth soaking him as he let out a labored sigh, wishing he could just stuff you full.

He began slowly pushing into you and you clamp down on him. Your gasp turned more erratic and you fisted the sheets. Pulling them from your grasp, he reached out gripping your hand once you let out a soft hiss from the stretch of him.

"Relax sweetheart, we'll go slow."

He started carefully, squeezing your hand, he felt a subtle sting as your nails pierced through the skin on the back of his hand. A melody of whines slipped from between your lips, at the feeling of his cock, as it slid perfectly inside of your walls, as he entered himself inch by delicious inch.

He leaned forward, nose brushing against yours. As you both panted against each other, it kept you anchored to reality as he finally bottomed out inside of you with a deep groan.

Then he waited, for an agonizingly long time, before you gave him the go-ahead. Bucking your hips up, begging for more friction. He takes his time fucking into you, long and slow at first. Reaching so deeply with each thrust of his hips, causing you to gasp every time he bottomed out.

You withered and squirmed beneath him, moaning incoherent nonsense as he pinned you to the bed. Crying out as your orgasm built up at an aching speed.

His hips moved faster at the feeling of your walls relaxing around him, fitting his cock like a glove. You moaned and wrapped your legs tighter around his hips, he hooked the hinge of his arm under your knee. Lifting it up higher, so you could feel him reach deeper inside of you.

He let out a grunt against the crook of your neck. He couldn't see the way you took every inch of him, but he could hear it. The sticky squelching of your pliant little cunt being speared open for him, and fuck, he could feel it.

Hot, wet, and tight around him. Grinding your hips in rhythm with his, as noisy wet clicks filled the background noise. Embarrassingly loud, from how slick you'd become as he stuffed you full of him.

Hanging by a thread as you used your free hand to claw at his lower back, leaving angry red lines behind on his skin, as you held onto him desperately. He groaned at the pain and yet he enjoyed it. The feeling of being so close to you.

Your thighs opened wide for him, puffy lips spread and swollen, sensitive, aching clit peeking out from them, dragging against the hair at the base of him.

All of you, covered in a glossy sheen of your own juices, as a ring of arousal collected at the base of his cock, dripping onto his thighs. "Don't stop, m'gonna cum. Daryl, don't stop!"

You could feel the coil inside of you snap, a string of cries escaped your lips as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. The high-pitched whine of his name. His lips consumed yours as he thrusted into you riding out your orgasm.

The convulsing clench of your cunt was his downfall. His upper body collapsing on top of you as he moaned out your name, before painting your insides white, your womb becoming nice and full with the weight of his release.

Reaching back down, he cupped his balls, massaging them. Causing himself to cum even harder. He began whimpering against your ear, and his sloppy wet kisses left behind a trail of drool, as he kissed down the side of your neck.

The two of you remained connected for quite some time. Basking in the sex-filled atmosphere of his tent. Your labored breaths and the cooing of the mourning doves, was your lullaby.

The heat radiating from the man caging you on the cot was bliss. Even as your skin was covered in a sheer layer of moisture you didn't want him to move from his place on top of you.

Your breaths began to even out and the gentle kisses he was placing on your shoulders and neck became less frequent. He began to sit up, and you felt his softened member start to slip from inside you causing your hands to tighten on his body, stopping his retreat. He froze at the sudden movement, afraid he'd hurt you somehow.

"Not yet... just- just a few more minutes." You whispered, pulling him back down to lay on your chest. The full wait of him felt safe, comforting. It was like you'd finally found solace after months of living in fear.

His fingers played with your wild hair, lulling you to sleep. Your hands on his back, mindlessly began running over his jagged scars, causing him to shiver at your unfamiliar touch, but he didn't stop you.

As much as Daryl hated what his father had done to him as a child, and the disgust he felt when looking at the lifelong reminder, your gentle hands were a beautiful relief in comparison to his father’s cruel ones.

There were so many things about you that were beautiful, so many things he just wasn’t used to. He wondered if that’s why he must've turned you away so often.

How when you offered things to show your affection towards him; books, food, clothes, blankets, sometimes even just your thoughts and feelings, he'd turn you away.

It was weird for him to experience such kindness from people around him and when a beautiful girl, such as yourself, suddenly came along and did it all, without asking for anything in return, it scared him.

He expected that after a while you’d start asking things of him. Things he'd have a hard time being able to give you. Things like friendship and vulnerability, things that oftentimes led him to get taken advantage of.

And yet as you laid beneath him he found himself wanting to give you such things. Wanting to be the reason you smiled so brightly at him, or laughed so beautifully. He wanted to feel the caress of your hands anywhere and anytime he could have them.

He hadn’t realized what exactly made him so wary of you in the beginning, but he knew now. He knew that you brought to life a part of him that he thought had died, a long time ago, long before the world had even ended.

Long before his brother had convinced him they were weaknesses, and even longer before his father had tried to beat them out of him.

"Would ya' leave with me?" He asked unexpectedly.

"What?"

"If... When we 'ave ta leave. Would ya' come with me?"

His words took you by surprise. You hadn't really ever thought about leaving the farm. Not that there were many places to even run towards, but still, the thought of leaving behind everything you'd ever known scared you.

Yet, you also knew that the farm wouldn't be safe forever. You knew that one day you would have to leave, and whether it was now; with Daryl and his group, or later; with your father and sisters. That was the real question.

"I don't know. I think there's more to it." You said.

"Why's that?"

"I can't leave my family Daryl... but I also know that what we have here won't last forever, no matter how badly I wish it could." You could feel Daryl shift against you, leaning back to look up at you as you spoke.

"I'm worried that if we're out there on our own, my father won't be able to protect us all, no matter how badly he'd try." It hurt for you to admit it, but you weren't fool enough to not realize the truth.

"It would either make us learn how to protect each other or find others to protect us... and to tell you the truth, I don't know how many people are out there, that are worth protecting back..." You felt tears well up behind your eyes, as a hitch caught in your throat.

"Not like you... or Lori and Carl... or Glenn... Carol... I'm afraid that God might've dropped you all on our doorstep and my father is just too blind to see it."

Daryl wanted to laugh at the mention of God. "Ya' think God did all this?"

"I'd like to think he did something. Whether that be bring the dead back walking or sending you here. Either one puts a strain on my fathers pride." You teased.

Daryl sat up and this time you didn't stop him. You winced as you felt him disconnect from you and sighed as his hands ran softly over your hips. "'mazes me ya' still believe in God after everythin'"

"I've got to believe in something." You said smiling up at him. He laughed and shook his head.

As Daryl's eyes fixated on you, it was evident that his mind was lost in thought. He couldn't help but admire your unwavering faith in something as unreliable as God, even at a time like this.

In this apocalyptic world, it wasn't God who would shield you from the undead. It wouldn't be God who'd courageously plunge a knife into their skulls or valiantly fight to protect you from any danger, but rather Daryl.

He would willingly place himself between you and the snapping teeth of a walker or stand as a shield, to the menacing barrel of a gun, if it meant protecting your life.

Even in a world as cruel and tormenting as this one, he was determined to make sure you had a chance to experience just a little bit more time.

"Then believe in me..."

He looked at you, really looked at you this time.

"Don't waste y'er energy believin' in somethin' ya' don't even know will protect ya' or not... Not when m'here..."

© ladywuvly please do not steal, copy, or translate any of my work onto other platforms!

#ladywuvly. m.list #18+ blog #18+ content #daryl smut #daryl fanfiction #daryl imagine #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon #navi. #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x fem!reader #daryl dixon x reader #twd #daryl x you #daryl x reader #soft!daryl #fandom #hurt/comfort

[wileys-russo]

new alessia x reader series sneak peak:

UNC!lessi x DUKE!reader slow burn enemies to lovers vibes based around this request here

"where are you going?" you looked up from your phone at the blondes voice, raising an eyebrow where she lay on her bed. "and you care because?" you questioned sarcastically as her baby blue eyes narrowed.

"just hoping each time you walk out that door one day you just magically don't come back." the english woman grinned as you flipped her off, grabbing your toiletries bag and a change of clothes.

"i wouldn't dare give you the satisfaction, chav." you bit back as her grin dropped. "you don't even know what that means!" she protested with a huff as now it was your turn to grin.

"all i need to know is that it gets under your skin, so it works for me." you smiled mockingly, taking your towel and leaving her behind. "whatever redneck!" the blonde shouted after you but you'd long blocked her out, putting your phone to your ear.

"oh my god she lives!" you cracked a sincere smile at the sound of the girls voice. "ha ha, i've been gone like a few days soph." you chuckled, catching her up on everything as you made your way over to the staff shower block.

"-she is driving me crazy! every night i lay there and the temptation to just smother her with a pillow and end my suffering is overwhelming." you scoffed, blood boiling as the image of the strikers smug face hovering over you at the championship burned into your brain.

"well, why don't you do something about it?" sophia questioned as you paused. "what do you mean?" you retorted with a frown. "you don't want her there, but she needs to be there to make up her community service hours since the vandalism right?" your best friend pushed as you hummed, starting to see where she was going with this.

"so? make her leave, or get her kicked out! problem solved and you don't have to see her again until next season. or if she fails to make up the community service she'd lose her scholarship and its bye bye miss england." sophia encouraged as a small smile curled onto your lips.

"lois you don't understand. on the pitch i have to deal with her attitude for like two hours, here its twenty four seven i can't escape her and she is fucking insufferable!" alessia groaned, collapsing back into her bed.

"so you're telling me you share a room with her and you can't think of any advantages to that?" lois quipped as alessia scoffed. "no? other than that she's constantly within strangling distance!" alessia grumbled with a roll of her eyes.

"less i love you but sometimes you can be so thick. this is great! its like the golden opportunity to get in her head. you have to do the whole camp for your service right? well if you make her life a nightmare she's hardly going to want to stay since she doesn't have to be there." lois continued to hint as finally the blonde started to follow along.

"plus if i can get into her head before the she believes tournament, if we both get a call up i can use that to play some serious mind games. for the good of the cause!" alessia grinned as lois sighed.

"less sometimes my own genius even surprises me."

~

you glanced up as you heard footsteps, your singing ceasing as suddenly there was silence and you wondered if you were hearing things. with a shrug you started humming again, ducking your head back under the water to wash the conditioner out.

but as suddenly your towel disappeared from the top of the cubicle your eyes widened and you hurried to shut the water off, sticking your head out.

"oh you have to be fucking kidding me." you scoffed, all of your clothes and towel suddenly missing in action, and you knew exactly who the culprit would be.

"fuck." you mumbled looking around desperately for a solution. with a groan you realised you really only had one choice, not particularly wanting to have to wait there soaking wet and shivering until night fall.

so with an enraged huff you ripped the shower curtains down with a tug, wrapping them as best around your body as you could, having to hold them up as to not let anything slip out.

cautiously poking your head out of the door your eyes locked in on your target and you retreated, taking a deep breath and muttering some affirmations to yourself.

"if you don't show weakness nobody can take advantage of something that isn't there." you mumbled, cocking your chin up high as you kicked open the door and stormed out of the building.

you heard the wolf whistles but paid them no mind, keeping your head held high and marching your way over toward the blonde sat by herself with a smug grin.

"did you leave something behind america? thought i'd bring it over to you, save you the embarrassment but well...guess you were too impatient to wait." alessia smirked as you snatched back your towel which was held in her hand.

"where the hell are my clothes england?" you warned, alessia looking upward with a slight smile as you followed your eyes, scoffing seeing your clothes hanging from one of the trees.

"cheeky kids. never know when a joke goes too far!" alessia tutted, unwavering as you squared up to her, the blonde standing so she was a head taller than you as you exhaled.

"you know russo if you wanted to see me naked so badly, next time you could just ask."

#woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso community #alessia russo x reader #engwnt #woso blurbs #alessia russo #woso imagine

[ghosts-cyphera]

okay so porn star ghost is like my new obsession?? he can’t help but read all the tweets and comments and loves the ones where people suggest scenarios for the next videos for the two of you and he just keeps getting kinkier and kinkier in the videos 😍

ooooh my god yes !! one of ps!ghost's favorite things to do before you shoot together is to hang out with you while you get your hair and makeup done, and read the comments out loud to you. not in a mocking way or to tease you. well, to tease you just a little bit—we all know he enjoys turning your cheeks warm—but it's mainly to remind you of all the love coming your way.

"okay that's enough," you laugh as you glance at ghost through the mirror of the vanity. "I want to hear comments about you." "reading the best ones, love," ghost shushed you with a grin. resting on his back on the couch with his arm placed behind his head, he looked casual. relaxed. clearing his throat, he then read: "first I thought I wanted him to rail me braindead. then I thought I wanted her to sit on my face until I pass out. turns out I just want them both to step on me, spit on me, have me as their—," ghost squinted his eyes, "personal—oh! fuckin' right—their personal chew toy," he raised his brows with his grin, "and then revive me so we can do it all over again." "huh." "huh," he echoed your word with his grin. "no one else I'd rather be doin' all that with is all I'll fuckin' say." the quirk of your brow was an unneeded confirmation of "that makes two of us."

ghost also screenshots all the ones where they ship the two of you!! all the comments that say how obvious it is how much you like him, and especially the ones that say that you were meant to be.

he doesn't do it in a creepy way. the comments are simply something he likes to go back to when he's doubting himself or unsure if he's just imagining the twinkle in your eyes as you look at him: the genuine nature of your smile as you kiss him.

he respects that—while you do make him feel special—for you he might be nothing more than just work, but when he feels that sense of longing for you late at night... reading the comments under your videos while grinning in his bed does help.

while ghost is also stable enough to know that feeling jealous over your work with other men is pointless, nobody can convince me that his guilty pleasure isn't to browse through the comments under your videos with graves, lol. because scattered between the comments from white cishet redneck men cheering him on and name calling you (deep breaths, simon), are always comments from your fans.

"ghost would never." "he doesnt know how to touch u like ghost touches u" "he's so focused on his own pleasure that he's forgetting all about her. did he even try to make her come?"

never fails to cheer him up, lol.

oh and bonus from a reply that's still sitting in my drafts, eek:

ghost would also love to reply to the comments, hyping you up with the fans and responding with the most random and cryptic emojis whenever someone even hints towards wanting to see him put a ring on it because of how obvious the sparks between the two of you are.

a fan: ghost, just marry her already. we need to see you living in that little house, hosting dinner parties for real. ghost: 🥸😵‍💫😏

#lo answers #ps!ghost #pornstar!ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #writing this with three hours of sleep under my belt eeek lmao #a:ps!ghost

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

okay but. imagine cowboy!reader is actually very educated. pro-LGBTQ, pro-choice, BLM, acab. very big speaker and doesn't take shit. BUT everyone thinks he isn't gonna educated and such until they're on a case dealing with like a trans kid and he's the first one to step up and comfort the kid and such. man im in the rabbit hole.

Allergies (Not Really)

No no no no no but the way I've started one where something of this theme happens (I don't want to give too much away aha)

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: transphobia, sad reader :( (i teared up a little ngl - it's not sad, he's just sad), guns, bullet wound, fighting, briefly mentions some murders to set the scene a bit, someone calls reader a redneck

Also I just want to say that the relationship between Mia and (Y/N) is completely platonic, maybe familial (a bit older brother-y or fatherly) not anything else. Just because I'm panicking because they spend a lot of time joking about and I wanna make that clear.

Taglist: @xweirdo101x @xdark-acadamiax

Your blood boils when you hear the case, an unsub has been targeting young families (parents and three kids all under the age of sixteen). The last family had a survivor, a twelve-year-old transgender girl named Mia, who was currently in the hospital being treated for a variety of injuries.

Your jaw clenches as you read the hospital report, whilst it wasn't too long (thankfully), you knew she would still have a lot to work through mentally.

"You alright over there, Eastwood?" Morgan asks.

"Just angers me, is all," You answer, not feeling the need to elaborate, feeling the source of your anger being fairly self-explanatory. You miss the concerned look Rossi and Hotch share. 

A few hours later, the jet landed, once everyone was situated at the police station, you turned to the team.

"I'm gonna head to the hospital, make sure Mia's okay," You said.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Rossi’s the one that says it, but you can see everyone's thinking the same thing. 

"Wha- Why wouldn't it be?... Oh I see," You say as the penny finally drops and it clicks, "Y'all think 'cause I'm from the South I'm against her bein' herself?" You sigh softly, rubbing the back of your neck, "Have I not proved myself yet?"

No one says anything for a moment, shocked by the hurt that flashes in your eyes, before they can, you pick your hat back up, settling it on your head, "I'm headin' to the hospital,” You mumble, leaving the room before anyone can say anything.

When you leave the room, you rub your eyes with the back of your hand. 'Not crying,' You try and convince yourself, 'allergies.' You trying to ignore the fact you know, 100%, that you don't have any allergies. 

You get into one of the SUV's and begin making your way to the hospital, ignoring your phone as it lit up with various concerned messages.

The receptionist was a nice woman and was quick to show you to Mia's room (after staring at you hungrily for a few minutes). You gave a small knock before walking in.

"Are you here to tell me I'm too young to know myself as well?" 

You furrow your eyebrows, "No, who told you that?" 

"One of the nurses," She answers with a shrug. 

"You know which one?" 

"The guy with brown hair," She shrugs as she answers, "It's fine though, happens all the time." 

"I personally don't think y'all are too young to realise who you are," You said with a shrug, "I think anyone who thinks that is trynna hide their bias by invalidatin' your identity."

Mia looks at you for a moment, "I like you." She states, "I thought you were going to be against it." 

"I've been gettin' that a lot today, it would seem," You mumble before your head snaps to the door, relaxing when it's just JJ. "Anyway, I'm (Y/N), this is my colleague, Agent Jareau. Mia, you a'right if we ask you a few questions?" 

"Sure,"

"Could you run us through what happened that night?"

"Mum and dad were cooking. We were all sitting at the table doing our homework, and someone knocked on the door." Mia began, "They asked me to open the door, and he grabbed me and put a gun to my head. He shot my dad, then-"

You gave her a small, encouraging smile, "You're doin' great,"

"Did you get a look at the person that did this?" JJ asked, when Mia nodded, she continued, "What did they look like?"

Your eyes widen in worry as the heart machine next to Mia picks up, as does her breathing. You pull yourself together and turn your attention to her, "Mia? Mia, hey," Your voice is soft as you kneel next to her, "You need to take some deep breaths for me sweetheart,"

"Can't-"

You nod at her, "Yes, yes you can," You encourage, "Deep breaths, in, one, two, three, four, five, and out. That was good, keep going," 

It takes a moment, but her breathing evens out and she appeared to be less anxious, "There we go," You grin, "Told ya," 

"Okay, Texas," Your jaw drops slightly, the joke catching you off guard. 

"That's not fair, I can't even say anythin' back without bullin' a child," 

"Ha ha." She responds, you throw your hands up in the air, smiling when she laughs at you. 

JJ rolls her eyes slightly at you with a small smile as the doctor walks in with a few nurses for a routine checkup. Your eyebrows furrow when you see a male nurse with brown hair. Your eyes flick to the name badge, 'Darren', assuming this is the same nurse, you make a mental note of his name.

"We'll be just outside, a'right?"

Her hand shoots out, clinging onto your sleeve, "No! Don't leave!" She looks at you slightly hesitantly, "Please?"

"Hey, hey, it's a'right, I'll stay here," You answer, eyes flicking down to her for a moment before turning to JJ.

"Hotch wants me to go with Morgan to the scene," JJ said, "You good here? I'll let him know,"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good here and thanks," You give a small smile.

When the doctor and nurses left, you turned to Mia, "That nurse you mentioned earlier? The brown-haired one? Was he in the room just now?" 

Mia nodded, "Yeah,"

"Had a name badge on, name Darren?" Mia nodded once more. "Alright, I'll be back in a moment,"

"Where are you going?"

"I just want a quick word with this Darren fella," You shrug, seeing the look on Mia's face you roll your eyes slightly, "Don't you worry your little head about it, I'm not gonna hurt him or anythin'."

"Okay..." She said.

"Is that a'right?"

Mia shrugged, "Sure." You nodded before exiting the room.

Furrowing your eyes when you came face to face with Rossi, "Howdy, I'm just popping out for a few," You said. 

Rossi nodded, walking into the room after you had left. "I'm Agent Rossi," He said, "I work with (Y/N),"

"The cowboy?"

"Yeah, the cowboy," Rossi huffs a small laugh as he sits in his seat. "Have the staff here been treating you okay?"

Mia shrugs, "Yeah," She answers, "There was one nurse but I think Texas has gone to sort him out or something. He might beat him up."

Rossi smiles slightly, "Texas?" 

"Yeah, the cowboy," She said, "I think he's frustrated that everyone keeps assuming he's going to be against me being trans... I'd be frustrated too, I think," She added after a moment's thought. 

You leave Mia, now feeling slightly better that Rossi will be there whilst you're gone. Spotting your target, you speed up.

"Excuse me! Nurse?" The man turns towards you, Darren. "I just wanted to have a word with you about Mia?"

You watch as Darren shifts uncomfortably. "Yes?"

"I just wanted to say that perhaps telling someone they're too young to understand 'emselves probably doesn't make 'em feel a whole lotta good about 'emselves."

Darren looks you up and down slightly as he takes a few steps towards you. "And what exactly do you know?" He scoffs, "I'm surprised a redneck such as yourself can read and write."

"That's some nice deflection there," You said sarcastically, trying not to let it show how much the stereotypes flung into your face hurt. "Just... don't be a dick. If you don't understand somethin', look it up. I'm sure you can read. So perhaps do your research before you project onto a twelve year old girl." With that, you give a forced smile before turning on your heels and head back to Mia's room.

"Welp, that outta have done it," You give a lopsided grin, "A'right Rossi?" 

"I'm fine Kid, you okay?" 

"Yes sir," You answered, "I might grab myself a drink, y'all want anything?"

Mia laughs, "Y'all?"

"Rossi, Imma need your assistance, I'm getting bullied by a twelve year old," 

"Sorry, Kiddo, can't help you there." He chuckled, "I will ask that you grab me a coffee though."

"Coming right up!" 

Hours later, she's sat up on the bed whilst you're sat on a chair (a rather uncomfortable one) next to the bed, Rossi having left an hour ago, both of your gazes focused on a small, empty glass bottle that stood on the overbed tables. Each armed with a small piece of string as a makeshift lasso. 

"You're not a very good cowboy, are you?" Mia observes as you miss once more. 

"Hey, I haven't done this in a while," 

"How longs a while? Never?" She asked, throwing the lasso perfectly once more. 

"I'll have you know its been, okay so it's been like ten years, a'right? You were two last time I had to lasso something," 

"Wow, you're old." 

"I had no idea twelve year olds were so mean, you're about to make a grown man cry,"

Mia gave a laugh, you quickly joining in. You flung the lasso half-heartedly, eyes widening as it hit its target perfectly. "Yeehaw!" 

"Yeehaw? Seriously? You're so lame." You jaw dropped once more. You both jumped as gunshots echoed throughout the hospital, you sat up straight, immediately turning to Mia.

"Mia, I need you to take this," You handed your phone over to her, "The pass code is 1999, okay? You need to phone Hotch. Lock the door behind me, go into the bathroom and lock that door too, okay?"

Mia looked up at you with wide, scared eyes, "Are you gonna be okay?"

"I'm gonna be absolutely fine, a'right?" When she nodded, you gave her a smile, "Don't open this door until I tell you to, or Hotch phones and says to okay?" 

You shut the door, not moving until you heard it lock in place. When you heard the soft click, you nodded to yourself as you began to make your way towards sound.

Seeing a nurse, you jogged up to her, "Ma'am, try and get everyone into their rooms, tell them not to come out, okay?" The nurse nods and runs off. You continue cautiously towards the sound of gunshots, revolver clutched in your hands.

When you find him, he's holding a person close to his chest, what with that and the people running past you, you don't have a clear shot. You meeting eyes with the wide yes of the hostage against his chest, you look at her, giving a small nod as you inch closer. 

When the moment's right, she ducks her head, pulls her elbow back, before slamming it into the guy's ribs. As he curls over, she wiggles out of her grasp, joining the others in fleeing. With a sigh, you brace yourself before charging at the man, tackling him to the floor.

It takes a moment for the unsub to recover, in that time you've delivered a few blows to his face, both of your guns falling during the tackle. He's quick to flip you over, he aims for the torso first, delivering a handful of well-aimed punches. Next, he takes a fist of your hair, slamming your head into the floor. Once, twice, three times before you get the momentum needed to push him off you.

You staggered up, paying no mind to the pain in your head throbbing in beat with your pulse, the blood on the side of you head that's slowly dripping into your eye, or the ache that's spread through your abdomen. You had to either distract this guy until the team got here or knock him out. Either way, you weren't about to let yourself pass out and let this bastard hurt Mia.

As you're breathing deeply through the pain, the unsub has stood, he (however) is not as chivalrous, so he takes the moment make his way over to you. He grabs your shoulders as he pulls his knee to your groin, pushing you to the floor as you double over in pain. Happy with having the advantage, he continues to aim cheap blows to your sides.

Despite this, you stumble up once more, you keeping your left arm wrapped close to your ribs on your right. They were definitely bruised as a minimum. You duck the punch sent your way, wincing slightly as it pulls on your arm and ribs. Both of your eyes lock on the gun at the same time as the pair of you dive for it. He reaches it first, gripping it tightly in his hands as you immediately go for it, to loosen his grip, anything you can think of.

There's a bang and you grunt as a bullet enters the top of your left arm, adding insult to injury. Okay, so disarming him didn't really work.

"FBI!" You sigh in relief as the unsub is pulled away from you, letting your head fall against the cold floor with your eyes closed - trying to get a grip on the pain. You listen as they cuff the bastard before dragging him out of the hospital. You let your eyes flutter open as you begin to push yourself off of the floor. 

"I'm fine," You mumbled, shrugging Hotch's hands off you, "I'm fine, check on Mia."

"Morgan, stay with (Y/N)."

When Hotch is gone, you turn to Morgan, "I'm fine, go help Hotch."

"Sorry, got my order," Morgan said with a shrug. You don't answer, as much as you don't want to admit it, the pain was really starting you affect your headspace. You felt like you couldn't think. "Come on, let's get you checked out." 

You shook your head, "No, I need to check on Mia first," You mumbled, giving a low groan as you pushed yourself up. 

"Alright, lead the way," Morgan said. You don't answer, simply forcing one foot in front of the other until you're back at Mia's room.

"Is he okay?!" You hear Mia's question through the door.

"He's okay," You hear Hotch reassuring her.

"Then where is he?! He said he'd be here as soon as he could!" Mia's panic causes your eyebrows to furrow, "Oh god, he's dead, isn't he?"

You push the door open, trying to look as put together as possible for Mia, not wanting her to panic. "I'm very much alive, thank you very much," You say.

"I thought he killed you!" She exclaims, rushing towards you. You groan when Mia flings her arms around you, burying her head in your chest and she immediately steps back, seeing the blood her eyes widen. "Holy shit he shot you?!"

"Hey, language," 

"Sorry Texas," She grins, and you roll your eyes. 

"Texas?" Morgan grins, "Oh, that is so sticking around,"

You groan slightly, "Seriously?"

"Seriously." 

You turn to Mia, "Thanks kid," You say sarcastically.

"No problem, old man." Your jaw drops once more.

"I don't know if my ego can take all these insults," 

"I don't know what y'all are talkin' about I would never do such a thing to y'all," She says, trying her best to do an impersonation, giggling slightly at the look of disbelief on your face. 

"That- Now that was just a bridge too far-" You barely get the sentence out before you're huffing a laugh (and then wincing because of said laugh).

"Alright, come on, Texas," Derek smirks, placing a hand on your shoulder, "Let's go get you checked out."

You weren’t too injured (thankfully), minus the bullet wound, it was mostly just bruises. Eventually, you were all stitched up and laid in a hospital bed - which you hated, but Hotch had glared at you when you went to protest. 

A soft knock echoed through the door before it opened, a blonde woman poking her head round. You frowned slightly, not recognising her.

"Hi, I'm Mia's aunt," The woman says and you straighten up (ignoring the discomfort).

"Ma'am," You said with a nod.

"I just wanted to say thank you," 

"What for?" You furrowed your eyebrows as she raised hers, motioning to your current state. "Ma'am I was just doing my job."

"Well, either way, thank you." 

You give a small smile, "No worries, Ma'am."

“I’m going to be her guardian now that-” Mia’s aunt paused, taking a deep breath to compose herself before she continued, “After everything and I really appreciate what you did for her.”

You give her a small smile, “Of course, Ma’am.”

She gives you one last smile as she leaves the room, “Oh, agent?” You look at her, “Is it alright if I bring Mia in? We’re about to head off and she wanted to say goodbye.”

You nod, “Yeah, yeah, of course,” 

When the door closes, you push yourself the best you can, the door opens a few minutes later and Mia walks in.

“How y’all healin’?”

“First, I wouldn’t say y’all if it’s just one person,” You said, rolling your eyes, “Second, I’m doin’ a’right,”

“You missed like seven letters in that sentence,” She laughs, you huff a small laugh, forcing a wince down.

“It’s an art form,” You reply. "Your aunt seems nice,"

“She is, I’m going to live with her,” Mia says, smiling, “She lives in California. I can’t wait, apparently my uncle’s been getting a room ready for me,”

“That’s great,” You smiled. "How are you feeling in yourself?" 

"I'm okay," Mia said with a shrug, "I know it's going to be a while until I'm back to one hundred percent, but I'm willing to put in the work."

"Smart kid," You said, "You'll be okay." 

"Oh, Aunty Meg you should have been there earlier! Texas was all like 'how are y'all doin'?' And he made lassos but he was absolutely useless with one and the last time he used one was when I was two and…"

Mia's voice faded as you looked at the hat on the table for a moment, lightly taking it in your own hands, brushing over the material lightly with the pad of your thumb. It was one of your favourite hats. You looked up, seeing the grin on Mia's face as she did her best cowboy impressions, you smiled. "Hey, I think you'll find, every southerner - impersonator or not - needs their very own hat," You said, reaching over to place it on her head. "Perfect, a true southerner!"

"Well I'll be damned!" Mia exclaimed, tilting the hat slightly. 

"Come on, we need to make a move," Mia's aunt said. "I think Uncle Jack's getting restless waiting for us,"

Mia nodded, reaching up and taking the hat off before handing it over to you. You shook your head. 

"Nah, you keep it kiddo, I've got hundreds." You give her a smile. 

Mia walked forward, clinging onto you as she buried her head in your chest, you ignored the dull ache that flared up in your chest as you hugged her back, "I'm gonna miss you."

"I'll miss you too, kiddo," You say, lifting one hand to wipe at your eyes. 

"Are you crying?" Mia asked softly. 

"No." You answered, "I've got allergies."

You wait for Mia to let go before you do, you gave her a small smile, "See you later, a'right?" She nodded, quickly wiping her eyes. 

"See you later Texas," 

The door shut quietly behind the two of them and you were enveloped once more in silence.

Whilst everyone was wrapping up the case, you were sitting in a hospital bed, bored out of your skull. With a sigh, you pushed yourself up, sneaking past the nurses and doctors as you made your way outside, wanting some fresh air. 

You sat yourself down opposite the hospital in the grass, letting yourself pluck a blade of grass from the ground, running it through your fingers as you lost yourself in your thoughts. 

You kept your eyes trained on the grass as Hotch sat down next to you. The pair of you sitting in silence for a moment. “Are you alright?”

“‘M fine, sir,” The answer rolls off your tongue. “Nothing to worry about,”

“If you want to get something off your chest, you can always talk to me,” 

“I know, Hotch,” You said, “I just… struggle with the whole talkin’ about how you’re feelin’,”

Hotch nods in understanding, for someone who doesn’t talk about it, you sure do end up giving a lot away. You both sit in silence.

"I know people think I'm stupid," You mumble, staring intently at the blade of grass between your fingers as you spoke, "I know I have that Southern drawl," You exaggerate your accent slightly before continuing, "That I don't exactly talk like y'all. I know some just see me as some redneck, but I can hold my own. I ain't stupid. And I certainly ain't no bigot."

"I know, we all know that." Hotch replies.

"But you didn't." You pointed out before sighing, "Whatever, it doesn't matter..."

"We were concerned because there was no way could have known."

"You could've just trusted me," You said, “I have, in no way, given any of y’all a reason to believe that I am against anyone in that community. And I get it, I do, it just… stings, is all.”

Hotch doesn’t speak, unsure of what to actually say. Because he did jump to conclusions, they all did.

"I think if she didn't have any family I would have adopted her, or at least tried to, anway," Your eyebrows are furrowed, gaze deepening at the blade of grass as you tore it apart in your hands. "But, hey, she's happy, that's the main thing and her aunt seems like a lovely woman."

With that, you push yourself off of the grass, ignoring the ache that shoots through your body. Leaving Hotch sat on the curb with a frown as you limped back into the hospital for one final check-up before your flight.

You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, “Fuckin’ allergies.”

#cowboy reader #x male reader #x reader #reader #male reader #criminal minds x male reader #criminal minds x reader #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #derek morgan #david rossi #bau x male reader #bau x reader #bau x cowboy reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds

[grimesgirll]

“fuck, honey. you done yet?”

you shake your disheveled head furiously. “one more, please!”

rick almost collapses right then and there. “did you not cum four times tonight?”

“let’s make it five.” you insist with a kiss.

rick is powerless to do anything but indulge you, knowing you’ll still need more.

“old man’s ‘bout to fall asleep.” daryl chimes in from his spot nearly under the covers next to you and rick.

“just like one more and i’ll be such a good girl.” you plead, all doe eyed.

“fuck.” rick groans and you lift your hips excitedly when you feel him twitch back to life inside of you. he can’t hide the anguish on his face when you slam your hips down onto him, trying to coax him back into pounding you.

“c’mon, rick,” you whine. “ditch the self control for once and fuck me.”

“it’s not self control, sweetheart. it’s a lack of energy.” he reassures you, wincing as you swivel your hips down onto him.

you roll your eyes. this is too slow for you. pouting your lips, your eyes find daryl and suddenly you have an idea.

“fine.” you huff. “guess i’ll just have to hop off and let daryl pound me. if he’s up for it.”

you never had to question if daryl wanted to fuck you into the mattress. it’s a given, which is why rick’s eyes darken and he lets out a sharp breath.

“you sure you wanna start this shit this late at night?”

your eyes widen with delight. you give your naughtiest nod.

“well, i’ll fuck you but you gotta make it up to daryl since you’re dragging him into this.” the constable tells you.

you nod eagerly, offering little resistance when rick and daryl reconfigure you to be perfectly between them on your knees. grinning up at your leader’s best friend, you don’t need to wait for him to free his erection because it’s already at your lips before you even register the status of his bottoms.

taking your time, you kitten lick the girthy cock in front of you. the trail you’re marking with your tongue dips down to the man’s balls. without hesitation, you start your slow ministrations, going back between the two.

“damn,” daryl mutters from above you.

rick spares a glance over top of you to see what you’re up to before finally driving back into your dripping core. the way you’re immediately arching your back forces rick to adopt a more brutal rhythm.

“oh, fuck!” you’re panting.

the man behind you fists a handful of your hair, guiding your mouth from daryl’s balls to the top of his cock again and pushing your head down. “i’m not gonna let you tease, daryl,” he jests, not skipping a beat while you gag on his best friend’s dick in front of him.

daryl just snickers and cranes his head back, enjoying thinking about how he’s not far from coming down your throat one more time tonight.

meanwhile, rick lets go of your head only to deliver a reddening blow to your bottom.

“god,” you moan around daryl.

the brunette rams in and out of your sensitive cunt. you clench when he grazes your cervix. languidly you roll backwards figure eights into him, arching even further into him. you grab a fistful of the slippery sheets in an attempt to ground yourself, clutching them closer when you feel a hand on your clit.

“gonna come all over my cock?”

“of course,” you reply raggedly.

“gonna squeeze me nice and tight?” rick smacks your ass. “i wanna feel you gushin’ on me, honey.”

“yes, sir,” you promise before daryl pulls you back down to bob your head up and down on him.

the bruising grip on the back of your head is your cue.

you finish daryl off as soon as his length is down your throat again. the redneck shivers and buried his hands in your hair right before his orgasm floods your mouth, doing your best to swallow everything as he shallowly thrusts his hips into your face.

“god, you do deserve the pounding, pretty girl.”

once he lets you off of him, you just beam and hold onto him as rick fucks you without abandon.

“you like grindin’ my gears? teasin’ me just so you can get fucked one more time before you go to sleep?” rick punctuates each question with a brutal shift of his hips. “huh, pretty girl?” he moves his hand from your clit to your stomach and forces a hand against your stomach.

“ah!” you bleat at the pressure. “you’re so deep.”

the condescension drops from his tone. “i thought that’s what you wanted, darlin’.”

“i do!” you cry.

“then do what you said you were gonna do and come on my cock.” he commands.

you don’t hold back. the rubber band snaps just right and you keep leaning right into daryl. head against his chest, he and the man viciously fucking you through your undoing are the only things on your mind.

rick’s grasping onto your trembling legs and littering your torso with fingernail marks from how deep he’s digging. the grip he’s maintaining keeps your shuddering body in place when he finally fills you up, tensing and nearly toppling over you.

warm and full, you feel like you’re melting into the soft bed, especially with rick on top of you. he stays like that while daryl is mumbling about a towel and finally getting the hell to sleep. all blissed out, they won’t have to worry about you for at least another few hours.

daryl is the one who jumps to wet a towel and offer the both of you a room temperature water bottle. rick is too preoccupied with keeping you as close as possible. he even stays inside your plush walls until daryl’s almost dragging you off of him to towel between your legs.

“did so good for us, honey.” rick is rasping into your ear, rolling the two of you under the comforter. one of his hands find a place in your hair making you lean into his touch.

“thanks for indulging me.” you express your gratitude with a kiss for rick and a clasp of daryl’s hand, urging the man onto the bed.

“here, put this on,” daryl passes you one of his sleep henleys and a pair of your favorite oversized boxers fresh out of the laundry.

“yeah, and ditch the bra.” rick says in between kisses against your collarbone.

content washes over your face and your bra lands on the floor.

once your top is on and rick’s firmly pressed behind you, you feel yourself start to dissolve into the soft sheet. a hand finds your breast just as daryl gives you a goodnight kiss. you suspect the hand will stay there for most of the night but you don’t mind.

it’s owner nestles his face into your hair, whispering sweet nothings from how well you took his cock to how gorgeous you were, how excited he was to spend his next day off with you.

feeling daryl beside you and rick nearly on top of you has to be one of the coziest feelings in the world.

and you’re right; five orgasms and you were out cold.

#the walking dead #rickyl #rickyl x reader #rick grimes x reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon smut #rick grimes smut #rick grimes #daryl dixon #twd imagine #twd smut #rick x reader #not beta read #f/m/m #p in v sex #aftercare #blowy #grimesgirll

[dreamtofus]

burning desire

Summary: You and Daryl spend a night together (smut)

Word Count: 896

i've got a burning desire for you baby

masterlist

"The pale moonlight shines in from the white framed windows, shrouding the two of you in a soft glowing light. The homely house blows with cold air, which makes the tulle-like curtains dance around the frame’s edges and leaves your skin weeping for warmth. Tonight, the old suburban home is silent, except for the breathy moans."

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . *₊ °

The pale moonlight shines in from the white framed windows, shrouding the two of you in a soft glowing light. The homely house blows with cold air, which makes the tulle-like curtains dance around the frame’s edges and leaves your skin weeping for warmth. Tonight, the old suburban home is silent, except for the breathy moans.

Daryl’s heavy hands dig deep into your dainty delicately set hips, leaving quaint dents in their wake. Cold fingertips gently trace the puffy under-eye of your heated face, followed by his dull mauve lips brushing your mouth with gentle kisses to coax it open.

A rough hand gently gropes your chilled chest through your lightly laced top. His hand toys with the buds of your breasts, drawing a gasp from your freshly plumped lips.

“Fuck, I fucking love you, honey.” You look up at him through damp lashes, fluttering them softly.

“I know yer do bunny,” He holds your face like the morning paper, poised between his pointer and thumb, “Can’t think of anyone I love more than my baby.”

His words have you locked in a trance as you remove your lace top, allowing Daryl to unclamp your bra. You allow him to unthread your arms from the strappy confinements, garments dropping to the floor with a soft thump.

His knees bend to position himself at a lower angle. His teeth latch onto the valley of smooth skin between your breasts, suctioning the dipped space. From the center of your bust to the slack band of your jeans, he paints purple violets that will bloom over time.

His knees are planted on the floor as if they’re the roots of his strong frame while he removes each button from its denim enclosure, struggling a little. You take notice and aid him, pulling your worn blue jeans off. Your chin dips down so you can place your gaze upon him. Daryl’s gruff face is situated between your thighs, his paws set your body on fire while he plays with your panties.

You shake your head in disapproval and slap his roaming hands away, making him get up in response. He looks at you with a stupid look on his face, like he did something wrong.

You simply simper, taking his hand and leading him to the couch instead. Your back clashes with the icy leather of the couch as Daryl climbs on top of you, both of his arms placed on either side of you.

His voice is rough but whiny as he whispers into your ear, “What do yer want from me, girl?”

Your voice quivers with a response, “I want it all.”

He heartily laughs and grabs onto your frilly underwear, tugging it down and over your feet. He stares at your raw body for a few moments, making you scrunch up in embarrassment.

You prop yourself up and trace your fingers around the hem of his shirt, slowly creeping them under. Daryl flinches as if you burned him when you make contact with his bare skin and trace his V-line. He decides to take his crusty grey shirt off himself.

Wrapping your arms around him, you feel the small raised abrasions littered across his back. A pang of sympathy shoots through your heated heart as you make eye contact with him. His face is turned away from you as if he is embarrassed, hiding his deep emotion.

You pull yourself closer to him to giggle into his red-tipped ears, “No one loves a redneck more than his baby.”

He chuckles at this before cunningly unleashing a rough attack on your lips. His hands grab at your sides, lighting a fire in their wake. You can’t help but let an intimate moan burn through your lips, opening them up to Daryl.

The sound of your fingers undoing his zipper cuts through the air. You undo the hard metal buttons of his raw denim pants, excitement building within you. You palm his hard-on through the rough navy cloth, only teasing him.

You let your arms fall to your side, allowing Daryl to remove his jeans. His boxers are dark grey cotton, smoothing over his rigid curves. Your fingers hook into his band, tugging it down to reveal his cock.

The couch's armrest supports your upper back while he aligns himself with you. He slowly presses into you, with a shuddering exhale leaving his lips.

Your legs hook around his lower thighs and your fingers claw into his shoulders. Your face nuzzles into the crook of his neck while he slowly picks up the pace.

“Fuck, yer so tight baby.”

Your jaw clenches as a more consistent pace is reached. Daryl’s hand snakes between the two of you to rub delicate circles around your clit, bringing you to a high. “

“Want me to stay in ya forever, huh?” He teases you.

You shut your eyes, letting the sensation override your body. Releasing your arms from his shoulders and your legs from his, you let yourself go limp in his arms.

Daryl pumps into you a few times before releasing it onto your heaving stomach. After he pulls his boxers up, Daryl takes the thrown panties and wipes himself off you. Squeezing himself down next to you on the couch, he wraps an arm around you.

“Yer alright..?”

With a nod and smile, you turn to cuddle into him for the night.

your oasis of warmth.

#the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #twd fic #daryl #twd #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon fanfic #twd daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl twd #daryl dixion imagine #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x you #twd fanfiction #twd x reader #twd angst #norman reedus #twd daryl x reader #daryl smut #smut #twd smut #Spotify

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Request daryl dixon x plus!size reader) so the reader and are married they have been together since before the world went to hell maybe when they make it to Alexandra some guys hit on the reader or make comments about her weight ( I couldn't decide which one to choose so you can pick) and early just gets really pissed off and he fights the guys Maggie is worried that one of the guys is not breathing but rick tells everyone he is still breathing and that rick almost beat him to death Daryl didn't care because they shouldn't say stuff to his wife or about his wife.

.⋆｡The Dress｡⋆.

Daryl Dixon x plus size reader

Spencer and his lackeys decide that they want to be pieces of shit and your husband teaches them a lesson they’ll never forget

Warnings: fat shaming, Spencer Monroe, some angst, fighting, protective!Daryl, swearing, blood, cat-calling, implied smut

WC: 1k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

Maggie was the one that found the sundress. It was wrinkled and smelled like dust balls but the blue of the fabric hadn’t faded and it fit you like a dream. You were hesitant at first, dresses had always been a bit of a sore spot for you in the past but you couldn’t deny just how good you looked when you finally caved and slipped it on (just to appease your best friend of course). 

While tight around your bust, providing you ample support even without a bra, it flared out at your wide hips, giving you a more hourglass figure. The colour suited your skin tone perfectly and the fabric was light enough that you didn’t feel constricted. Even you found yourself hot as you looked in the bathroom mirror. 

Maggie had just about lost her mind when you finally re-emerged into your bedroom and after she had convinced you to walk downstairs, you found that your husband was even more excited about it.

So on a particularly hot day in Alexandra, you decided to wear it as you went about doing your chores. You ignored the eyes that looked your way as you milled about, delivering parcels of food to different houses and collecting any clothes that needed to be fixed.

It was the whistle that finally caught your attention. A group of men were gathered outside of Deanna’s old house, Spencer led the charge. He was positively leering at you in what you assumed was supposed to be a ‘smoulder’ but really just came across like he was constipated.

You rolled your eyes and attempted to get on with your work but that’s when he spoke up. “Hey sweetheart how about you bring that ass over here and I can show you what a real man can do.” You cringed at his nasal voice. The three men behind him hooted as he smirked your way.

All-to-used to the cat calls of pathetic men, you kept walking, yet you couldn’t help but mutter under your breath. “I get a real man every morning with breakfast, fucking pig.” Evidently, you hadn’t said it quietly enough because suddenly there was an iron grip around your wrist and an angry voice in your ear.

“The fuck did you just say, fat bitch. I was gonna do you a favour by fucking you but now I wanna know something. How are you still so fat in the middle of the fucking apocalypse?” This started another round of side splitting laughter from his friends. Your hand flew to your wide hip, unconsciously searching for your knife which you had left on the hall table at home. “I know! That redneck that follows you around like a mangy dog must keep feeding you so you can be bait.”

Your mouth dropped open to retort but suddenly, there was a growl and the disgusting hand on your skin disappeared. You were startled for only a moment before you realised that your husband’s voice had replaced Spencer’s. “Shut yer fuckin mouth!” 

A sickening crack rang through the now silent street and you watched with morbid fascination as the man you called yours beat the ever loving shit out of the much taller man. Daryl’s blue eyes were wide with fury as he held him down by his neck as his right fist landed blow after blow to his face.

You stood frozen as his hand steadily became stained with red blood, only a distant shout from Rick broke you from your trance. “Daryl!” You pulled at his shoulder but he wouldn’t budge, too blinded by his anger. He landed another hit and you cringed as you heard Spencer’s nose shatter.

“Rick!” The sheriff was your last option and he delivered. He gave your husband one good punch to the jaw and Daryl was briefly stunned. Using that distraction, you pulled him back with all your might causing you both to roll to the dusty ground.

You threw your leg over his thin hips and grabbed his arms, pinning them to his chest as you sat down onto his thighs, effectively keeping him on the ground. You knew he could easily throw you off and lunge at the man once more but he stayed immobile beneath you, his chest heaving.

“You good?” You could hear others running up to where Spencer lay but your focus was on the man beneath you. His shoulders were still tense and his fists still clenched but his eyes weren’t as wild as they fixed themselves on you.

He grunted in reply and you breathed out in relief. “Are you gonna go after him again if I let you up?” He thought for a moment and then shook his head. You smiled before carefully getting to your feet. You offered him a hand which he quickly took, pulling himself up to stand next to you.

“I don’t think he’s breathing!” One of Spencer’s cronies whined but Rick just scoffed as he looked down at Spencer.

“He’ll be fine, just get him to the infirmary.” He dismissed, turning to you and Daryl who had slipped his hand into yours. “You almost beat that man to death.” 

Daryl spun the gold wedding band on your ring finger. “Shouldn’t have talked bout my wife like that.” He brushed off. You could feel the split skin of his knuckles beneath your fingertips- a reminder of the violence he was capable of for you.

Rick sighed in defeat and turned his attention to you. “Bring him home, I’ll deal with this. Just- just watch him please.” He begged, sounding like a tired father. Your free hand clutched Daryl’s muscular forearm in a silent signal for him to walk away.

“He’ll be right as rain tomorrow. Scout’s honour.” You promised and the ex-sheriff shot you a grateful look.

“By the way- you do look good in that dress.” A growl was your only warning before you found yourself thrown over your husband’s broad shoulder and he stormed away, presumably back to your house. Your laugh carried down the street with you as you clutched onto his strong back.

“I guess I shouldn’t wear this dress out again huh?” You asked jokingly as he kicked open your front door and thundered up the stairs.

He gently threw you onto your bed and as he stripped off his vest, he spoke once more. “Only if ya know ‘m gonna fight anyone tha looks at ya.” The dress stayed on.

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[moonriseoverkyoto]

That’s Where I’m from, Sweetheart

Synopsis So I’ve been tinkering with southern reader and everyone’s favorite Scot.

cw: none? Maybe one mention of blood, talk of strip poker, some playful but still threatening language (all is fair in love and war guys), just a teensy eeensy bit suggestive (if you don’t wanna see it, just scroll by it’s that easy.)

Pairing: southern(texas/Georgia fusion inspired)!medic!reader x John "Soap" MacTavish

Author’s note: literally doing this as a test but if nobody likes it I’ll still repost it. Anyways all inspo and motivation comes from @glossythor also banner credit goes to @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

©️moonriseoverkyoto 2023. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.

- Southern Medic!reader didn’t learn their tricks traditionally from med school, no in fact they aced their classes and almost graduated top of class.

- So when you were specifically invited to join the F1F in the field, you can imagine the look you received when you pulled up the flight deck in your low rise jeans, and a cowboy hat sitting on

- You can also imagine the peak curiosity you were going to withstand for the next few months on the mission

“Soap won’t be the only one with a tough accent around here anymore.” Announced Price as you walked into the room with a big smile only to be greeted by hardened eyes scanning you for your weaknesses and possible ulterior motives.

“hello everybody, I’ll be y’all’s medic for this trip. Believe me I’ve already heard all the western jokes, the hillbilly, and the redneck bullshit so can it for me okay everyone?” You spoke to the room with a gleaming grin that hid your boiling anxiety.

As the day proceeded on there was a tension stuck between your shoulders especially when you got placed between ghost and soap for the flight

“So what part are you from darlin?”

“The part where Mama doesn’t let you come home until the sun goes down and where you’re more likely to get kicked by a horse then learn the alphabet. That’s where I’m from sweetheart”.

- You never grow used to the look you receive from others as the team grows close to you. Nor do you ever live down the jokes and the constant harassment from the team to “get a room” with soap once your accents kick into high gear and his gaelish comes out.

- “dinnae be in any rush darlin, our captain isn’t bleeding out any faster than usual. I would hate to clipe to the rest of the group that you get slower when I come around.” The Scottish flirted with a wink as he dragged Price in one rainy day to base camp.

- “and I’d hate to hogtie you to a mustang and magically push my Nana’s spurs into it’s hide so you can eat shit for all the shit you talk, sweetheart.”

- “aye love if you did that, I’d let you just for the moment I’d be under you, even if it makes me boggin eejit being tied to the horse.”

Price’s grunt as you sprayed the wound stopped you both and the man spoke to you both with his look of surprise between you both.

- Soap definitely pulls you everywhere by your belt loops when you’re not in scrubs. Like I’m talking you’ll be doing something and just feel a tug before you’re face to face with your favorite (you don’t have favorites right :)? )

- the absolute one time you played strip poker, you whipped everyone’s asses and they’ve been begging to know your tricks since. You even had your cowboy hat on still by the end

- Soap who secretly goes weak at the knees hearing you say sweetheart but he would never admit how whipped you have him

-Soap who talks Ghost’s EAR off about you so much so that Ghost could win a jeopardy game about you

- Soap, the man who confesses by… well I’ll save that for another time

-Soap definitely is shitting bricks nervous to meet your family and actually makes your dad shit bricks instead when he sees your hunk of a boyfriend.

-Everyone turning their comms off once you say sweetheart because they know you’re just talking to Soap

-Soap sending everyone a video of you hogtying a pig, and winning first place at a rodeo held in your hometown over holiday one year

- now they actually get a little nervous when you start stomping around in your infirmary/makeshift medic tent talking about hogtying whoever who misplaced your special medical needle gifted to you from your nana/papa/mama/whoever you find special in your life

authors note again: Anyways I’m just gonna yk slip on past here. Lmk if there’s anything that offends you or anything I should improve as I’m still super new to writing fanfiction (so much harder than literature analysis or film writing) I loved doing this and I hope I can do more!

My requests are open and I love writing these as a emotional release

#call of duty headcanons #call of duty #soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #headcannons #self indulgence at its finest #john price #simon ghost riley #john mctavish x reader

[octuscle]

A weird change has been going on with all the guys at my office. Many of them are now acting “southern” wearing cowboy boots and hats and belt buckles and even talking in southern accents despite almost none of them being from the south. They also started driving giant trucks and even some of my more liberal co workers are now talking about conservative politics.

Could the chronivac be behind these changes?

You have the feeling that the young employees were the first to be affected. When you went home a few days ago, you heard a "Goodbye, Mister! Havuh nice eevnun!!" from Frederick's desk. Frederick is an intern. A promising Harvard student from the best family in Providence. You're actually on a first-name basis in the office. But you don't actually wear a cowboy hat either…

The next person to be hit is Peter from the coffee shop downstairs in the office building. Peter is actually a talented barista and, like all people in the catering industry, is actually a disabled actor. You once saw him as Hamlet in an off-Broadway production. He wasn't any worse. "Hello Mr. Goldmann, sir! Uh hot blaak filter coffee as usual?" You look at him in amazement. "Peter? Is that you? I always have a cappuccino. Have you forgotten?" "Kaynt bay, mister! Way don't sayul thet kinduh stuff. An by thuh way, mah name iz Pete."

Fucking hell, Pete is really smoking hot. Okay, the conversation between you is getting more monosyllabic by the day. You'll get used to the black coffee. Not to his Trump praise.

Over the next few days, more and more of these cowboys and rednecks will come your way. There is talk in the news of a hacker attack on TikTok accounts and on Chronivac by the Russians. Allegedly, it is no longer the will of the voters but the voters themselves who are being manipulated. Thank God you don't use TikTok.

A few days later, things get more serious. You come out of the elevator, your eyes engrossed in the New York Times. What is that stench? Your eyes fall on Frank, the young man working at reception. A cloud of sweat and musk wafts around him. His left hand is under the table, moving rhythmically back and forth. "Good morning, Frank!" you say sternly. His hand is suddenly on the table and he clicks away the porn on the screen. "Excuse may, Mr. Goldmann, sir! Ah didn't say yawl coming." You say that your name is Sebastian and that he should get back to work. Apparently he misunderstood. As soon as you turn around, he jerks off again.

And it smells bad in the office. A lot of employees here seem to have an increasing problem with personal hygiene. And spend more time in the gym. And watching cowboy movies. Still mostly young colleagues. But also a few who are your age. It's frightening.

You're sitting at the financial statements. They have to be finished in the next few days. And apart from you, no one in accounting seems to have a clear head anymore. What you're given is full of errors. In terms of content, spelling, grammar… A catastrophe. You hear heavy footsteps behind you. "Goldmann, Smith, Wagner. Into thuh conference room. Now!" You turn around. The two giants look a bit like your CEO and CFO. But they smell like the locker room at a rodeo.

The two of them will forward you the links to a few TikTok videos. You should watch them! Don't have an account yet? Then bloody well get one. You'll get a lecture that our business model isn't patriotic enough. That you're doing too much business with the disgusting gooks and the cowardly French and Krauts. You're supposed to make America great again. America first!

Robert and Richard look at each other and at you, embarrassed. They don't really understand what they should do now. Admittedly, neither do you. You wonder whether the board has gone mad. Robert and Richard, who represent product development and sales, start to discuss whether it is even possible to restructure the supply chains and distribution channels in the short term.

You install TikTok and take a look at the videos sent by the CEO. They are basically advertising messages from the right wing of the Republican party. Repulsive stuff. And you have no idea what this has to do with your company's accounting and controlling.

After reflecting on the situation for a few minutes, you get up and think that you need a drink for the shock. You wonder if they could do with one too? Robert and Richard, who have also just installed TikTok and are watching the videos, look up briefly and shake their heads.

The cognac you received as a gift a few years ago is no longer in your office. You also can't remember whether you gave it to someone as a gift or took it to a company party. Surprisingly, you find beer in the fridge in the coffee kitchen, which is actually against company policy, but no schnapps or anything like that. You go to Frank and ask if you have any whiskey or something similar. Frank spits his chewing tobacco into the wastepaper basket and pulls a silver hip flask out of a drawer. "Home-brewed by mah dad, Mr. Goldmann, sir! Do yawl need uh glass?" You shake your head, take the flask and take a big swig.

Rick and Bob ask if you've brought booze and chewing tobacco. The two of them rant about the government, fantasize about how good everything will be once Trump is back in power and scratch their balls. They're both good guys. A bit hollow in the head. But they have their hearts in the right place, don't think twice and implement orders quickly and efficiently.

You really can't believe the gobbledygook they spout. You sit down, take a pinch of chewing tobacco and push the tin over to them. And after an impressive burp that smells wonderfully of the chili from today's lunch, you take a deep breath.

"Buddies, is way men or weaklings? Thuh bosses want ideas frum us, not whinin'. Wadja thank uh thuh fallerin' plan: naw more deliveries uh goods frum China frum next year an doubled prices fahwar sales tuh Europe!" Bob and Rick both snot their tobacco in the corner, shout "Yeehaw" and fart. Hehehe, they also had the chili. Shit, a good chili fart always makes you horny. You pull down the blinds in the meeting room. And Bob and Rick undo their belt buckles.

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #chronivac #inked man #mullet #musk #stop trump #ai image

[fredwkong]

Hey man, I’m so tired of school and studying and classes. I keep seeing TikTok’s of these rednecks on vacation. Any way I could be like them?

Thanks for your booking with FWK Vacations. Your redneck vacation is about to begin!

You wake up as the morning sun hits your eyes. You’re in a hayloft, and your cowboy hat’s slipped off your face. You give your body a once-over as you sit up. Quality jeans, your belt with the huge buckle undone, commando underneath. There’s a sticky layer of dried cum on your belly from the load you shot going to sleep last night. The smell of your stale cum and masculine musk gets your thick cock hard as you zip your jeans and do up your belt.

You drop out of the hayloft and go to join your bros in the farmhouse. Sometimes you wonder why you have to sleep out in the barn, but you know that your bros know best. You’re the skinny one, the runt of the litter, and they’re all real men with burly pecs, thick muscle guts, and massive, leaky cocks.

You knock your way inside the farmhouse and find your bros already sitting around the table, eating their breakfast. Just like every morning, you slide under the table to get your breakfast.

Afterwards, with thick manly cum leaking from your asshole, you sit down on the porch while your bros go to do the farm chores. If they need you to milk a load out of them before lunch, they’ll give you a holler.

Enjoy your vacation!

Want to go on vacation? Book via my ask box!

#answered ask #tf vacation #male transformation #mental change #muscle tf #reality change #dumber tf #musk tf #cowboy tf #bottom tf #male tf #all fwkong

[lunajay33]

Change Part.3

•🩰🎀🩷•

Summary: Y/n is a loner but loves ballet but her family doesn’t have enough money for her to dance at the studio, Daryl is a redneck who hates people and prefers bikes, until one day these two run into eachother and their lives change drastically, will Daryl toughen her up? Will y/n soften Daryl? Or both? How will things go when people start coming back from the dead

Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon x f!reader

A/n: This is going to be a series, it’s gonna start with how they met eachother and their lives before the apocalypse, eventually it’ll blend with twd story line!!

Part.2

•Masterlist•

I woke up feeling groggy and exhausted from the events of the day before, rolling over to see Daryl still laid out on the makeshift bed of blankets on the ground by my bed

“Daryl?” I said reaching down and shaking his shoulder

“Hmm?” He groaned opening his eyes to look up at me

“It’s morning, do you wanna go get some breakfast?”

“Sure”

I got up and rummaged through my drawers pulling out a pair of black leggings and longsleeve white shirt that had a tiny pink bow on the collar

“Mind if I change here?” I asked seeing as Daryl was already looking at me

“Go fer it”

I turned around and undressed throwing my pajamas in my laundry bin then quickly putting on the new days outfit, when I finished I turned seeing him with a wide smile

“What?”

“Cute panties” he said laughing under his breath obviously talking about my pink panties with white little lace trimming

“Stop” I said lighting pushing his arm

“As if yours are any better” I said as we both looked at his plaid boxer

We went out to the diner and had some breakfast, I didn’t wanna stay in the house knowing Jackson was still there

May was there and took our orders when we sat at the counter

“Thanks again for staying with me last night” I said as I stirred my straw in my water hearing the ice cubes clink together

“ ‘s nothin, didn’ wanna leave ya there knowin those assholes were still there” he said shrugging

It was silent for a while after that as we got our food and ate in peaceful silence, then paying May and leaving

“Wanna come over?” He asked as the dinner door behind us rang as it shut behind us

“Sure I don’t have anything else to do!”

He showed me around, he lived in a little house on the edge of town near the woods, more like a cabin than a house and if it got cleaned up and decorated nice, it would make a cute home

“I know it ain’t much but it’s enough” he said obviously feeling ashamed as we sat on his bed facing eachother

“I’m not judging you Daryl” I smiled, he nodded as I saw a flush of red on his cheeks

I looked around his room never having been in a guys room before, but it seemed like the typical you’d expect, light brown walls, cross bow in the corner, plaids upon plaids hanging in his closet, a page ripped out of a busy magazine and tapped to the wall

“I see you got a type” I said trying to hide the laugh that was creeping up as he quickly turned to look at it by his bed post

He ripped it down and threw is in the trash in the corner of his room

“Damn Merle musta put that up”

“Suuuuuuure”

“Ain’t my type anyways” he grumbled under his breath

“Oh and what is?” He looked me up and down before looking back at his lap

“H/c, e/c, she gotta be nice a little bit more quiet, can’t stand lots o’ noise”

“Hmmm I see” atleast he kind of described me, I had the hair color, the eye color, I’m pretty nice I think and I’m pretty quiet but I’m not gonna read into it just to get my heart broken

“So Mr. Dixon what makes you Daryl, what do you like”

“Not much, like huntin, tattoos, bikes”

“Do you have tattoos?” I asked intrigued

“Got two on my back”

“Can I see?” I could tell he tensed up and wasn’t so keen on the idea

“Maybe another time” he said looking down again

“Okay no problem!” I said a bit cheerier to life the tension

It was silent for a while until he got up off the bed and crouched down under his bed by me pulling out a box and placing it infront of me and he sat back infront of me

“What’s this?”

“Got ya somethin, saw it in a store, cleaned em up as best I could” he was blushing again and I was beyond excited to even see what he got me

I opened the lid of the box and my heart stopped, it was a pair of ballet slippers, shiny pink with ribbons, the bottoms were a bit stained but it’s expected

“Daryl……..you got these for me?” I was stunned no one has ever done anything like this for me

“Was looking around hopin I could find somethin, don’t know if they’ll fit tho”

I hopped up taking off my socks and slipped them on, I stood up and they were a perfect fit, Daryl got on his knees before me and laced the ribbon around my leg tying it in a bow

“Ya like em?” He asked looking down at me as he stood up

“Daryl I love them, thank you so much!” I said so happy I threw my arms around his shoulders and pulled him into a hug, feeling his hands on my lower back, engulfing it, I pulled back slowly our lips so close I could feel his breath, smoky but mint

“Thought ya deserve ta feel like a ballerina” he whispered

I couldn’t hold it in anymore, I leaned in ever so slowly our lips just grazing each others…………when the door burst open

“Damn it Merle” Daryl groaned as we stepped back from eachother

“Woah sorry brother, didn’t know ya had a lady over”

“Get out” he said trying to push him out

“Just came ta tell ya, dads comin home soon” he stiffened and looked back at me as I stood there embarrassed

“Do ya wanna go out fer dinner or somethin?” He asked with pleading eyes

“Of course! We can go to the diner again!” I took my slippers off and put the in the box as I pick up my socks and we went to the front door to put on our shoes, then walking quietly to the diner

“Are you okay D?” I asked worried

“ ‘s nothin, old man just ain’t the meetin type”

“Oh well, you know I’m always here for you, you can stay at my place whenever you’d like!”

“Thanks, might take ya up on that, yer gonna have ta show me yer moves with yer new slippers” he smiled as he placed his arm around my shoulder

I couldn’t believe all this was happening, it’s been such a short time since I’ve really known him and he’s already done more for me than anyone else, and made me feel more alive, I might really like this Dixon

Part.4!

Taglist: @pinchofthetwd @bigbaldheadname @strawberrykiwisdogog @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @l0kilaufeys0n7 @welcumetomyescape @severelykinky @tesfayera @daryldixmedown @secretsicanthideanymore @lettersfromyourlove @mordilwen-of-mirkwood @secretsicanthideanymore

#twd fanfiction #daryl dixion imagine #twd daryl #daryl dixon #twd x reader #twd fluff #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon smut #daryl imagines #daryl fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #daryl x female reader #daryl x y/n #daryl x you #twd #the walking dead series #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon series

[gosmigenergy]

KINKTOBER 2023 / Day Two

FROTTAGE / SEXUAL FRUSTRATION / VIRGINITY

( Triple Frontier Boys x F!Reader )

Summary: After a conscious decision to stop dating, your friend invites you to fight night where more than one person catches your eye.

Rating: 12A?

Warnings: Mentions of dating/bad relationships, allusions to a non-monogamous relationship, language, drinking, teeny bit of masturbation, no use of Y/N

Word Count: 4.4k

Notes: When @absurdthirst announced their Kinktober 2023 list, I actually got inspired to start writing and I’m now taking the plunge by posting them online. It’s been a few years since I wrote smut so bear with me. If there is anything spoken in italics, it’s Santiago or Francisco speaking in Spanish, I didn’t want to just Google translate and butcher it. My brain also didn’t do this in numerical order hence why there is no Day 01 though this story seemed more of a fitting start.

I may not complete the entire list so be ready for sporadic updates, enjoy!

(P.S. Hi Moyra!)

The story of how you ended up in an open relationship with four, rather handsome guys was a simple one.

You were lonely and horny but also indecisive.

Your notable chastity came after a series of shitty relationships and dates with men. After being ghosted, catfished and caught up in a quick partnership with a toxic dom, you had pretty much given up on the male species. Except, once a few months had passed, the sexual urge came back, you couldn’t fathom the strength to go out and find people but there is only so much a toy can do.

“A cage fight? What are we going to do at a cage fight?”

“I don’t know,” your friend spoke with a tone that indicated she knew something you didn’t. “But there will be plenty of men.”

You roll your eyes, she was desperate to get you back out there, she also knew you well enough to know fighting your sexual nature was soon going to become a struggle and she couldn’t handle the idea of another crap hook up for you.

“Fine.”

That evening you found yourself outside of town, in front of a sorry looking hanger with your friend waiting for the rest of the group, watching the slim picking choices of men. 

“If I wanted a frat boy, I could have just gone to that one bar.”

Your friend scoffed, “Frat boys are not the only option here.”

They weren’t but they seemed to be the better option. 

Every other man you saw, you wouldn’t touch with a barge pole. Amongst the Frat boys was portly bikers who could barely remain on their bikes, those who you could only describe as rednecks and guys so terrifying, the idea of approaching them didn’t even come to the forefront of your mind.

“How long do you think the girls are going to be?”

“Fashionably late,” she shrugs.

“There’s a strong possibility they’ll miss their guy.”

You have flashbacks to when you went to a concert and they arrived so late, they only made it in time for the main act. The pair of you had sworn never to attend anything with them unless you had your tickets and could make your way to the venue without them. Tonight, you were both a little worried about how they’d be when they turned up and in an event like this, they’d stand out in the crowd.

You hugged your frame, bobbing up and down on the balls of your feet.

“Could we just get them to message when they’re here?”

“We’ll give them another 20 minutes.”

The flurry of people thickened and you stood to one side to allow everyone to pass without having to go around you. You were watching the time pass by on your phone when your friend’s announcement interrupted you.

“They’re here.”

“Thank fuck.”

You raise your head, about to look passed the incoming audience when you caught sight of someone.

He has his head ducked low underneath a baseball cap, his outfit in shades of navy and grey, hands stuffed in tight jeans pockets. Under the brim, his brown eyes flicked up to yours like he knew he was being watched. A smile came to his lips, brightening his five o’clock shadow, the moment between you was brief.

He carried on walking and you kept your eyes in front, swallowing as you felt his gaze still on you.

“Are you ok?” Your friend queried.

“I’m fine.”

The temperature rises in your cheeks.

“Uh-huh.”

In the venue, the group of you squeezed into a middle row on one side of the cage. The rest of the girls had already arrived a little bit ‘squiffy’ as they put it and on the second round of drinks, you’d offered to head to the overcrowded bar.

You had spent the evening rejecting offers from all sort of men, the cheesiest chat up lines plugged to you in every kind of way - ‘when do you get in the ring’, ‘what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this’ etcetera, etcetera. Your mystery man was nowhere to be seen and you think he was just a figment of your imagination.

Pushing your way through the throng, you manage to grab onto the trim of the makeshift bar and haul yourself forward. You lean your weight on your elbows and wait patiently for one of the bar staff to finish serving another drunkard.

“So, what’s a little girl like you doing in a place like this?”

The way they said ‘little girl’ made your skin crawl, even the guy next to you clocked your discomfort.

“Out with friends and would rather be left alone, thank you.”

“Aw, come on, I just want to talk.”

“I’d rather not, I’ve had plenty of men try and talk to me tonight and I told them the exact same thing. Please leave me alone.”

There was movement behind you but you thought it best not to make eye contact. You felt the air pass your shoulder as the guy next to you threw up a hand and caught the other man’s wrist that was inches away from your body.

“Hey, she’s already asked you nicely to leave her alone.”

Oh god, was a fight going to start because of you?

The growing tension had your heart pounding and your knuckles became white as you held your nerve.

“Who are you, her boyfriend?”

“If I was, would it stop you harassing her?”

The man behind you mumbled something incoherently before squirming out of the guy’s grip and staggering away.

“Thank you,” you finally look his way, giving him a smile.

He smiled, giving you a gestured nod, “You’re welcome.”

Even in this light, he had baby blue eyes and delicate freckles along his cheek bones. His upper body was wide, holding it’s own against wave after wave of people coming in to wait along the bar.

“You have some pretty quick reflexes, are you sure you’re not meant to be in that cage?”

He laughs, shaking his head.

“Nah, not my kind of thing. How about you? That look could have knocked him dead.”

“There’d be a lot bodies on the floor if it worked,” you quip. “I’m here as chaperone to the group of forlorn looking girls waiting for their man.”

His smile broaden, digging dimples into his cheeks.

“And who might that be?”

“Benny Miller,” you shrug.

You’ve been invited to watch him fight but actually have no fucking idea what he looks like, the girls have just been swooning about his ridiculous six pack.

“Really? He’s going to be thrilled.”

“You think?”

“I’m his brother, of course I know.”

You cock your head, eyebrows arching, maybe you could understand the fascination with this fighter if his brother is anything to go by.

“Oh god, how many Millers are there?”

His laugh is contagious.

“Only the two of us. If you count brothers in arms, there’s four.”

You should have guessed with those reflexes he was some sort of military.

Just as you’re about to speak, a bar man appears and he allows you to order your round first, five shots should come quickly. Juggling to get a grip of five tiny plastic glasses in two hands, you flash him another smile.

“Thanks…” You falter, “Sorry, I didn’t ask your name.”

“Will.”

You introduce yourself and thank him again before slipping into the stream of people, excusing and apologising to anyone who got in your way.

“You were gone a while,” you friend said inquisitively after taking a shot of sour cherry flavoured liquor.

You hum, “I got harassed at the bar and Benny Miller’s brother stepped in as my knight in shining armour.”

She laughs, checking quickly to see if the other girls heard.

“What is with you tonight? First that guy at the entrance, now the brother.”

“His name is Will and I haven’t seen that other guy since.”

It was nice to know he wasn’t imaginary.

There were a few rounds before Benny’s, the girls squealing and looking away as two guys beat the living daylight out of each other. They shouldn’t have been there, too much blood, too much violence and too much sweat from the crowd washing over them and it wasn’t like they could talk either.

The break came and as the other girls insisted on another drink, you politely excused yourself to breath some cool outside air.

You refused the offer of a cigarette when you stepped out the doors, eyes flitting to see if there was an empty bench or some patch of grass where you could escape the huddle of people congregating. Wandering around, you found yourself at the side entrance of the hanger, a lone person leaning a brick low barring wall.

There couldn’t be any harm sitting with him, he seemed harmless enough.

“Do you mind if I sit here?”

The man glanced over, brown curls flicking from under his cap.

“Go ahead.”

You side, jumping to rest your ass before taking a massive swing of water from the fountain you’d discovered on your way out.

There was a moment of silence before he spoke.

“No offence but you don’t seem one for violence.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You look too sweet and innocent,” he shrugged.

You hum, “Who says I’m innocent?”

He laughs, dropping his head before taking a swig of beer, eyes in front of him.

“I apologise.”

“That’s ok, I get what you’re saying, it’s been pretty brutal so far.”

His tongue flicked over his bottom lip, “I’ve seen worse.”

“Well, for the sake of the girls I’m with, I hope Benny Miller don’t get the shit beaten out of him.”

“Don’t worry, he won’t.”

He sounded so sure and that’s when your brain made the connection to what Will said earlier.

“You’re one of his brothers in arms, aren’t you?”

The man leaned back, placing one hand on his thigh, the little target tattoo on his hand stretching. He faced you now with a furrowed brow and parted lips, his eyes dark as you could see his mind working out how you knew.

“I bumped into Will at the bar.”

His expression seemed to soften.

“He told you about me?”

“Not specifically,” you winced, trying not to hurt his feelings. “We just got talking.”

The corners of his lips twitched, “He did mention meeting a pretty girl at the bar.”

You had to look away, your cheeks and chest immediately on fire, a spark that travelled your lower belly, spreading with desire. Will said you were pretty and he just clarified the comment, your friend was right, what is with you tonight?

He was just about to speak until the heavy swing of the door made you jump, he barely moved an inch.

“You better get you ass in here, Benny will lose his shit if you ain’t there to walk him in.”

For a brief moment, you couldn’t see who was attached to the voice but it was smooth.

They step out from behind the door and you saw the edge of a blue bomber jacket and the navy peak of a cap, his soft slopping nose and the five o’clock shadow along his sharp jawline.

Oh no.

It was if he caught something out of the corner of his eye, like he saw his friend and wondered why there was another person sat next to him, who was the other person sat next to him. His one eyebrow was arched, his lip straight until he recognised the face.

“Didn’t I catch your eye earlier?”

“I’m sure it was the other way round,” you remark wittily.

He smiled, nodding, “Agree to disagree.”

“If you say so.”

“Are you going to chat up all my guys tonight?”

He points between you and the other guy.

“I think you’ll find they keep chatting to me.”

He laughs, nodding again.

Both of the men shared a look, understanding each other though no word was exchanged, it was annoying yet somewhat enticing.

You wished you could know what they were thinking.

“Come on, Fish, he’s going on in a couple of minutes.”

He got up from the wall, abandoning the empty cup but he glanced one last time at you.

“Fish?”

“Nickname,” he stuffed his hands in his pockets. “It’s Frankie to everyone else.”

You tell him your name and he smiles, nodding as he walked away. Frankie pats the other man on the back, stating ‘hermano’ and sauntering away, readjusting his cap before he disappeared into the venue.

Slipping off the wall, you went to say goodbye before he gestured for you to come through the back.

“Thanks.”

The door slammed behind him and he followed you, body unbelievably close, his breath mixing with the heat contained in the hanger.

“So, do I get to know your name?”

Glancing over your shoulder, he still has that soft smile, eyes roaming what was in front of him that caused goosebumps to arrive on your skin.

“No.”

You walked passed rows of lockers and tired wooden benches before he stopped, letting you walk a little further.

“Go to your left and follow the corridor to the double doors.”

You nod, “See you in there?”

His smile grew, “Sure.”

Following his instructions, the corridor felt like it went on for miles, the music muffled through the brickwork, the only sound your shoes squeaking on tiles. You were trying to wrap your head around what was going on, how had you met three guys in one night who all knew each other and seemed, to you anyway, to be caught in your gravitational pull? Or was your friend right, were you just that ridiculously horny after months of your own hand or toys?

You shake your head, taking a deep breath before joining civilisation again.

“They wanted to get closer,” your friend said, rolling her eyes.

“Aren’t we technically in the splash zone now?”

“D’you think they’re bothered?”

She was right, the rest of the girls were far too gone to even worry about being covered in sweat, beer and possibly blood, all you prayed for is none of them got ahead of themselves and flashed the fighter at the worst time.

After Benny’s name got introduced over the speakers and the match started, you finally saw the other three from the group, distorted opposite by the wire hexagons that followed the cage. Even they were sensible enough to sit several rows back, they cheered and backed Benny the whole way through and when the opportunity arose, fleetingly looked to you.

A heat washed over your body.

“They said this is the way!”

The girls were giggling, tottering up the corridor as fast as they could in heels. You and your other friend held back, mostly to ensure you weren’t connected to the fangirls who were trying to find a battered and bruised man.

You pretended you didn’t know where the locker room was though you were there moments earlier, you couldn’t face the queries from your friend.

“He’ll be in here,” a friend beckons everyone over.

“And I’m out,” you hold your hands up. “I’m not sneaking into the boys locker room.”

“Really? I thought you’d quite like a photographic memory for tonight.”

You shake you head, “I have the internet for that.”

She laughs, nudging your hip.

“I’m just going to see how this all plays out.”

“Sure.”

She pushes you away and you stagger to an empty space on the wall, leaning against it and allowing the cold to spread across you back. Tipping your head back, you close your eyes, taking a breath.

“Don’t want to join your friends.”

A familiar voice breaks the silence.

“Do you always hang round in the shadows?”

He scoffs, “No.”

“I’d rather not be associated with,” you wave a hand. “Their actions.”

He moves to the wall opposite you, copying your stance, his smile curling as he can hear the chaos in the distance.

“You know it’s a shame,” he looked at you through the corner of his eyes. “He would have liked to have met you.”

You scowl, tilting your head.

“You’ve been talking about me?”

“Will and Fish are quite enamoured with you.”

“And you?”

Your heart was pounding, the blood rushing to your head. You were nervous to hear his answer, tongue sweeping over your dry lips and all he could do was smile, breaking eye contact.

“I don’t think you could handle me.”

You hum, “I like a challenge.”

He pursed his lips, cocking his head to one side.

“You look too sweet for me, honey.”

The way he said ‘honey’ was intoxicating, smooth with a hint of his Spanish pronunciation, it made your heart flutter. You push yourself off the wall and take a few steps over to him, folding your arms across your chest, standing tall.

You look him up and down, your expression scrunching, you’d seen someone like him before not exactly like him but they all appear the same.

“Maybe that’s just what you need… A good girl who’ll do as she’s told.”

He turned to face you, eyes almost black and you swallowed. His smile crocked into a smirk, he noticed the falter in your otherwise firm stance. Moving his body close, he leaned forward, hands placed to his hips. He brought his lips to the shell of your ear.

“Then give me your phone.”

You do as you’re told, unlocking the screen as you hand it over.

Taking it in one hand, he gives you space and taps away before giving it back. You check the details on the phone.

Santiago Garcia is a new contact.

“Give us a message if you need anything.”

You blinked at the screen then up at him, his face had softened.

“I’ll hold you to that, Santiago.”

He winked and walked away, out of your vision, he shooed the girls away.

—

“So, did ask her?”

The guys had driven to a late night diner after the match, part of Benny’s post match routine was stuffing his face with a load of carbs.

“Not quite,” Santiago took a bite of a fry. “I gave her my number.”

Benny practically made a raspberry noise like a child.

Santiago shook his head, throwing his hands up, “The balls in her court.”

“You should have just asked her.”

Frankie took a swig of his coffee, “This isn’t the kind of thing you just walk up and ask, she would have run a fucking mile.”

Benny pointed with his fork, “This is why I should have done it.”

Frankie burst into laughter, Santiago and Will shaking their heads, he has no fucking idea.

“What?”

“There’s no way she would have taken the offer from you,” Will was trying to contain his laughter, cheeks turning a faint hue of pink. “I trust Pope, the balls in her court now.”

Benny ladled the last of his food onto his fork, “Do you think she’ll bite?”

Santiago was praying to every god that you did even though he was far from religious. This is the first time back since he felt anything, it was unusual that he found himself vying for attention with the other boys.

This was new territory for him and he’s done a lot of shit.

He thinks back to the conversation with you, he didn’t expect what came out of your mouth and it was like the lure of a siren to a sailor. It’s why he reconsidered you as an option. Sure, you cracked a little when he got close yet who wouldn’t and that’s when he guessed you may have seen it before.

His fingers have been twitching to check his phone all night.

“You’re guess is as good as mine.”

And you were laying in bed contemplating whether it was too early to message him.

After the fight, you thought you’d just go home and crash, you thought wrong.

Stripping off, you decided to take a shower to get rid of the grime from the night. You had an idea you were wet, you just didn’t realise how much your arousal had pooled. There was so many factors you could blame - several matches where two sweaty, semi dressed men were in close proximity to each other, three men’s eyes watching you and your eyes met, Santiago centimetres from your face.

The water fell soothing down your skin and you settled two fingers against your clit, rubbing gently. Closing your eyes, you pictured the fine details, the blonde of Will’s hair, the wideness of Frankie’s hand, the musk of Santiago’s aftershave.

You dragged your fingers along your folds, gasping as you sunk them into your burning cunt.

It was embarrassing how quickly you came to the thought of them, you hands reaching for the cool tiles of your bathroom as your legs threatened to give way. Your breath was shaking, your body vibrating as the warmth travelled up your spine.

“Fuck.”

A message popped up on your phone from your friend, hoping that you had a good night, the winking face emoji a hint to the boys. Messaging now seemed desperate, your teeth grazed you lip.

Rolling over, you prayed that sleep would take you.

You decided against messaging Santiago in the morning, you were groggy and unmotivated with suggestions of a possible meet up would fall on deaf ears. It was in the afternoon, after some good food and a walk in the fresh air that you felt ready.

‘And when you say anything, what did you have in mind?’

That was the question that lead you to the bar tonight.

As it was a dive bar, or so you and your friends believed, you didn’t wear anything fancy however it didn’t mean you under dressed. You wore a dress that accentuated the curves of your body, hiding it with an oversized jacket and trainers. Taking a breath, you pushed through the doors, the vision of Santiago stood at the bar ordering.

“I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

“I’m fashionably late,” you retort, taking a note out of your friends’ books.

He laughed, “What are you drinking?”

He bought you a drink and you went to join the boys at the table, finally being introduced to Benny.

“I was kind of insulted you didn’t want to meet me but I’ll forgive you.”

The five of you talked about everything and anything, you learned that Frankie was a pilot, Santiago chased cartels for years after being in the military because he couldn’t stand still and the Miller brothers spent their youth on a family farm. After food and another round, Benny decided that it was the perfect time to get the conversation rolling on to why you were here.

“Are we gonna do this or not?”

He was straight to the point.

“Christ, Benny,” Will could have kicked him under the table. “Always thinking with that dick of yours.”

You guessed the implication would be something sexual, you got that from Santiago last night but his text gave you nothing, actually the whole evening gave you nothing. It was just nice to be in the company of four very different yet very attractive men who hadn’t push any boundaries.

Frankie lifted his cap and ran his fingers through brown curls, his focus pulling to Santiago.

“You want to start? You’re better with words.”

It’s also more his kind of thing, is what he left out, but it wasn’t easy.

Your eyes flicked to every man around the table. Frankie couldn’t make eye contact, Benny glanced between you and Santiago while Will seemed to be the calmest of the lot.

“We got talking yesterday about a girl we saw at the fight and it turns out we were talking about the same one. Now, the guys haven’t really done this before, I’ve shared before but not quite like this —“

“Wait, did you just say shared?”

It was alarmingly hot all of the sudden.

“Yes, I did,” he rubbed the scar along his neck.

Frankie chuckled to himself, “I guess there is no easy way of saying it.”

Santiago could see your mind working overtime, the knot in your brows tightening. Your lips opened before you stopped and thought over your words again.

“Do you guys want a five way?”

You wouldn’t complain if they did.

Benny and Santiago’s brows seemingly raised.

“Not quite, sweetheart,” Will lowered his tone, closing in on you so his frame blocked the rest of the bar from your vision. “We’re thinking more, we share you out evenly, four ways.”

You blink, tongue running over your dry lips, just the thought alone had settled between your thighs.

“So, a different guy every night?”

“If you want,” Benny chimed in.

Santiago shrugged, “I was thinking more of a weekly schedule.”

That would make sense.

Your mind was processing the concept, it could be good, yet it could also be bad, catastrophically bad. That’s what happened with that dom, they made all these promises, that they’d buy you all these rewards and gifts if you did what they wanted, they never came. They had you running round in circles, doing a load of shit you thought you wanted to do when in actuality, you didn’t. They manipulated you until you finally said no and then they gaslighted you into thinking it was all your fault when it never was.

Could these guys do that too?

“What are you thinking, querida?” Frankie broke through the silence.

“Just the string of bad relationships that came before this,” you take a swig of your drink, catching his puppy dog eyes. “Not that I’m saying this is a bad idea, it’s just…”

You chose your words carefully.

“I’d need to see the terms and conditions.”

He nodded, “That’s fair.”

“I’ll get the papers to you in the morning,” Santiago joked.

“I better not see any spelling mistakes or the deal’s off.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that, Will’s my copywriter.”

You tried to keep the upper hand but you broke, the smile cracking on your lips.

“Sooo, is that a yes?”

Benny’s eyes were darting from person to person, this conversation was too cryptic for him, he wanted a firm answer.

“It’s a maybe.”

He pouted, nodding, “I’m taking that as a positive, celebratory shots on me.”

The rest of the boys groaned as he slipped out of the booth towards the bar, Will apologising for his brother’s enthusiasm given the fact you didn’t give a solid ‘yes’. You thought you’d pretty much ruled men out and then suddenly the universe had gifted you four of them.

Maybe this was the end of that dry spell, the possibility of your sexual awakening and more and honestly, you didn’t mind at all.

#kinktober 2023 #triple frontier #triple frontier x reader #reader insert #santiago garcia #frankie catfish morales #will ironhead miller #benny miller #slow burn #kinktober #first time posting #im gonna post this and log off

[yevmarie]

Light My Fire | Chapter 6

Masterlist

< Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 >

Plot: having lost everything you are drowned in depression, which had happened to you a year ago. Now you need to struggle with the apocalypse as well with no sparkle in your heart. But there is one man who can light your fire to live.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader

Word count: 2.4k

Pronouns: you, she/her

Warnings (the chapter is a whole red flag, I'm sorry): angst, just a bit of angry and fluffy Daryl, swearing, smoking (by reader), physical abuse towards the reader (but the abuser is punished), the reader finally goes nuts (and there's no wonder here), differences from the main plot may occur, bad English (not my first language).

A/N: I'm a bit struggling with writing currently, so I literally pushed myself to finish the chapter even with the ready dialogue from the episode. I hope I didn't mess it up so much. And I want to apologize ahead if I didn't add you to the taglist. I'm not good at being attentive to details, so please don't take it personally and don't hesitate to let me know if I accidentally skipped you <3.

Taglist: @your-shifting-gurl @bae-live-0 @richardsamboramylove55 @deansapplepie @snailss @denisecabrera @dreamtofus

You opened your eyes and stared at the ceiling of Daryl’s tent. Another tough morning, but with less nausea and headaches, thank God. It seems like your physical and mental states are gradually returning to normal. But you still feel worn out and lost because of the emotional rollercoasters and the events causing them.

You were thinking about whether Merle is still alive or not, hoping for the best, of course. You were scared to see Daryl finding out his brother had been cuffed on the roof of the building full of walkers. And it seemed like only you were bothered by this situation. Everyone else seemed not to care at all. It was obvious the Dixons were not members of a blue-blood family, but it wasn’t a reason for the group to take justice into their own hands. It hurt you that Rick didn't understand your concerns. Sure, he didn’t. You couldn't tell him that the rednecks were the only ones who somehow cared about you because his wife and best friend were too busy with each other. Yes, it wasn’t like the brothers did everything for you, but it was way more than Shane did. Let’s be honest; he did nothing except ignore you.

You finally decided to get up, making your way to get breakfast near the campfire. Sitting alone, you caught different looks from the people in the group. You were ready for it and tried not to pay much attention. After the meal, you went back to Daryl’s tent to brew coffee and read a book. Thanks to Carol, who understood your state and let you have your deserved rest. You went a bit further from the tent to find some wood. You slowly walked, collecting sticks, trying to occupy your mind with your favorite songs you hummed when suddenly you heard Shane’s voice.

“Hey, baby girl. Why are you walking here alone?” you turned around and saw him getting closer to you.

“How long have you been following me?” you asked, keeping a poker face but at the same time feeling some unexplainable sense of danger crawling under your skin, making you shiver.

“I haven’t. Just was walking around,” the man chuckled and stood up too close to you. You knew every inch of this person, all his moves, gestures, tones of voice, look. But this was a different person. He wasn’t the Shane you used to know and love. Something had changed in him.

“Shane, what do you want?” you were trying to register every move of him that could signalize danger so you could fight or flee. Surely not freeze.

“Nothing. Just to talk,” Shane’s smile was slowly fading away.

“Don’t you think you should do this with Rick first?” suddenly you thought you would need to run away soon. You didn’t know why this thought came to you, and the absence of reasoning made your heart race.

“I do think I should do it with you only,” Shane’s voice sounded lower. You gulped but tried to do your best to stay cold.

“Ah, gotcha. No one is going to admit you both messed up and tell Rick how ‘faithful’ you are. Of course, he’ll beat the shit out of you. But why do this when there’s me who can be threatened and manipulated any way you like, huh?” you still tried to hide any emotions, though you were trembling like a leaf when Shane took a step towards you. “Shane, don’t move. You are scaring me,” you laid your arm where your gun usually is, but you felt only the fabric of your clothes.

“You left the camp without your gun, Y/N,” this dickhead had been following you for a while and noticed you were unarmed.

Shit!

In another moment, you felt his arm squeezing your neck, slamming you into the nearest tree and hurting the back of your head. You instinctively tried to inhale but struggled to do so, ending up coughing.

"If Rick somehow finds out about Lori and me…” you barely heard him whispering in your ear but interrupted.

“Then what? You’ll kill me?” you huffed, trying to free yourself from Shane’s firm grip. “If she’s pregnant, then I’ll be such a waste of a weapon. What will you do then, huh?” Here, you realized you had found this weak spot by how his breath started shaking, and he couldn’t find any words to answer. “Oh, darling, you’re so fucked up,” you felt the squeeze become tighter. You looked into Shane’s eyes with your almost blurred sight.

“Nothing to say?” you felt Shane’s hard breath and tremble going through his hand still holding your neck. “Then finish what you’ve started because I won’t keep silent. I will make you pay for everything you've done to me, you piece of shit,” the slap of his hand stung your cheek and made you wince and close your eyes.

You heard some noise, similar to how arrows hit, followed by punches and curses. You exhaled with all your lungs, coughing as you were freed from Shane’s grip. You fell on the ground and blinked away the haze covering your sight, seeing Daryl sitting above Shane, who was laying on the ground, and punching him. The archer stopped for a second to have a look at you and felt relief you were alive. Pale, coughing, eyes washing with tears, but alive.

You heard Shane’s laugh. “Y/N, I see you didn’t waste any time as well.”

“Shut up,” you mumbled, closing your eyes and leaning on the tree.

After another punch to Shane’s face, Daryl gripped the man’s shirt collar.

“Listen carefully, ‘cause I won’t repeat this. If I ever see ya touching her, talking to her, or even looking at her. Any movement towards her I don’t like, ya’re dead. Ya’re fucking dead and will be feeding the walkers around,” Daryl stood up and walked towards you, taking out the arrow that had hit the tree next to you.

Shane stood up as well, wiping the blood from his nose and dusting himself off from the soil. 

“You’re just in time, Daryl…” Shane started but was shut up by Daryl turning to him.

“Skull itching?” the archer clenched his fist, threatening to break the arrow he was holding.

“Talk to you later,” Shane mumbled and slowly headed back to camp.

“Are you okay?” Daryl sat down close to you, caressing your cheek to wipe away your tears. You could only shake your head in response. “What the hell was all that?”

“Rick…” you gulped to soothe your hoarse voice. “Rick, that friend I was talking about. He is back. His wife and Shane…”

“Gotcha. I gotcha,” Daryl bit his lower lip. “Where’s your weapon?”

“I left it in the tent…”

Daryl stood up and wiped the sweat beads covering his face.

“Why the hell is it in the tent?” Daryl yelled, looking at you crying. “I told ya your recklessness will kill ya one day. Lucky ya I was just coming back,” the archer was freaking out. His voice grew louder, his breath heavy and shaky. He bit his lower lip, obviously trying not to lose his composure completely.

“Daryl, I… I owe you till the end of my days,” you sniffled.

“I'll let it off if ya keep your damn weapon with ya and leave the camp at least with someone ya trust,” Daryl was still speaking in a raised voice, though he wasn’t angry at you. He was angry at the whole situation. He couldn’t cheer you up because he needed it as well. He understood your shock when a person you once considered beloved, shared plans and dreams with, and even bedded, nearly killed you. But witnessing that scene was too much for him. He just thanked whatever higher power there was that he arrived in time.

“Ya promise me?” you lifted your head to meet his eyes full of despair and just nodded as tears made your words stick in your throat.

“Good,” he took your hand to help you stand up. Scared to face his eyes again, you hugged his waist, leaning your head on his chest, hearing his heart threatening to jump out of his ribcage.

“Thank you,” you said trembling, clutching his shirt for dear life. You felt him tense, but he finally hugged you tightly and brushed your hair with his calloused fingers.

“Let’s go,” Daryl said with his gruff voice, loosening the hug. You nodded, letting him go, and waited for him to grab his crossbow from his hunting run.

“Nice garland,” you joked, pointing at the bundle of killed squirrels. Daryl rolled his eyes.

“Then ya won’t eat it but enjoy seeing it hanging near the tent.”

“I’d rather see Shane’s body instead,” you mumbled, earning a scrunched face from Daryl. Suddenly, you heard the noise of scrunched leaves, as if there was some animal nearby.

“Go back,” Daryl whispered. “I’ll come later. Seems like we’ll have deer today.”

You nodded and slowly moved towards the camp.

---

Arriving at the camp, you went into the tent to retrieve your gun, fearing your ex could do something stupid again, and headed to the campfire, seeing Daryl returning only with the squirrels. You guessed the attempt to catch the animal had failed.

“Merle!” Daryl called out. “Merle! Get your ugly ass right here! I got us some squirrels! Let’s stew ‘em up.”

“Daryl, just slow down a bit. I need to talk to you,” you saw Shane following the archer.

“Want to get another punch?” the younger Dixon turned around to Shane.

“Calm down. It’s about Merle. There was a… There was a problem out there.”

Daryl looked around to see all the people concerned and you avoiding his eyes, taking out a cigarette to light up. Your reaction hit him hard.

“He dead?”

“We’re not sure,” Shane answered, scratching his nose and hissing at the pain caused by Daryl’s right hook earlier.

“He either is or he ain’t!” Daryl started to freak out, not getting a clear answer from the group.

“No easy way to say this, so I’ll just say it,” you turned around slowly, puffing out smoke to see Rick coming up to the archer.

“Who are ya?”

“Rick Grimes.”

“Rick Grimes? Ya got something ya want ta tell me?”

“Your brother was a danger to us all. So I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal. He’s still there.”

“Why are you so sure?” you asked Rick and dropped the cigarette to stub it out.

“Y/N! This doesn’t help at all,” Rick glanced at you fiercely.

“I could have helped if you hadn’t stopped me!” you cried, yelling at your friend, who clenched his jaws, feeling guilty for everything that had happened on that damn roof.

“Hold on. Let me process this,” Daryl wiped away the tear threatening to fall, which caused your heart to twist in pain. He was so vulnerable and desperate; it hit you hard. He was always so caring towards you, but you couldn’t help him at all. Rick barely stopped you from driving to Atlanta yesterday.

“Ya’re saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof and left him there?” the archer’s yell rang in your ears, feeling all the pain he was expressing.

“Yeah,” Rick looked at the ground to avoid the younger Dixon’s gaze, which was already burning him. Daryl breathed heavily, threw the bundle of squirrels to the sheriff, and was ready to attack him when suddenly he was pushed to the ground by Shane. You ran up to Daryl, but he took out a knife, so you stepped back in fear and froze. The archer stood up grunting and jumped at Rick but was stopped by Shane’s punch and then the further grip around his neck.

“Stop!” you shouted, but no one heard you as if you were not there.

“You’d better let me go!” Daryl huffed, trying to free himself.

“Nah, I think it’s better if I don’t,” Shane squeezed the archer’s neck.

“Chokehold’s illegal!” Daryl screamed, and you lost your temper, taking out the gun and pointing it at Shane.

“You can file a complaint,” Shane grunted but froze when he heard the click of the safety lock.

“Getting a little touchy-feely there today, hun?” you breathed heavily, feeling your sight hazy again and all the sounds becoming dull, turning to ringing. Shane slowly loosened the grip to free up Daryl, who was trying to catch his breath.

“Y/N,” Rick came up to you to calm you down but was stopped by you pointing the gun at him.

“I see this group understands only the language of violence, so I’ll talk this way,” you looked at everyone around. “You either have a calm discussion on this topic, or I’ll start shooting and attract walkers.”

“Calm down!” Shane growled at you but was cut off by you immediately.

“Don’t even talk to me if you want to be safe,” you said through gritted teeth, hinting by looking at Lori and back at him. You started to pray Rick hadn’t noticed it.

“Y/N, give me your gun. Please,” you looked at Rick slowly approaching you. You shook your head and locked the gun, putting it back in your harness. You took out another cigarette and lit it. Such a harmful and useless habit aimed to calm you down, but honestly, it never helped you. You sat on the log nearby and kept looking at the men who finally started a dialogue.

---

When you made sure Rick, Daryl, T-Dog, and Glenn worked out a plan to get back to Atlanta to find Merle and started to prepare for the run, you went to the tent to finally have your coffee and a book. Daryl followed you to take another arrows.

“Hey,” he whispered. “Didn’t know ya were such a hothead.”

“Me neither,” you replied emotionlessly and looked back at the man.

“Merle would like it.”

“And you?” your question made Daryl fluster.

“I still think ya’re reckless. But ya learn fast. I’ll tell ya some tricks when I’m back,” the man mumbled confusedly.

“Take care of yourself,” you gently smiled at him, causing butterflies in the archer’s stomach.

The man nodded and chewed his lower lip. “You too.”

You also nodded and watched the archer walk away.

< Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 >

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #daryl dixon / reader #daryl dixon / you #daryl dixon x you #daryl / reader #daryl / you #daryl x you #daryl dixon fanfiction #Daryl dixon series #The Walking Dead #the walking dead series #the walking dead fic #twd #twd fanfiction #twd fanfic #norman reedus #daryl dixon fanfic #twd daryl #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x y/n

[mymisfitsbabe]

Billy had just finished cleaning his kitchen, just finished putting away the last clean plate when someone pounded on the front door. Frowning, Billy pulled off his apron and tossed it on the counter. 

“Who is it?” Billy asked as he padded over on bare feet to the closed door. 

“Who the fuck do you think it is? Open the Goddamn door.” Gator called back. 

“You can't just start showing up here, Tillman.”

“Just open the fucking door before I kick it down, Hargrove.”

Opening the door Billy sighed.

“What are you doing he- What the fuck is that?” Billy hissed as Gator pushed into his trailer and handed him a large furball. 

“It's a dog.” Gator sneered as he moved further into the small living room.

“Uh, and why the fuck did you bring it here?” Billy asked as it wiggled in his hold, it's sandy brown fur already shedding onto his black shirt.

Gator turned and gave Billy an exasperated look, but Billy's focus shifted as he spotted the shiner Gator sported under his right eye. Gator was still in his police uniform, his vest had some blood on it and he was covered in dirt splotches. He smelled like sweat and dogs.

“What the hell happened to you?” Billy asked, shifting the pup to one arm so he could grab Gator's face and get a good look at his eye. 

“Nothin. Anyways, you need a dog round here since it's so easy to break in this shit hole.” 

“Oh fuck off, just cause you decided to go all psycho horror movie on me doesn't mean I need a damn dog.” Billy passed the ball of fur back to Gator. 

“Just keep the fucking dog, Bills. It ain't gonna kill you.”

“What the hell am I supposed to do with it? I'm at work 12 hours a day.” 

“Take it with you, Benny loves dogs and the shop is gated off.” 

“Great, then give Benny the dog if he loves them so much.”

“I didn't get the dog for Benny, I got it for you.”

Billy sighed, as Gator set the dog on the couch. The thing was huge for a pup, thick sandy brown fur with bright brown eyes. It's paws and ears seemed too big for its body and the thing looked half wild. 

“Where'd you get it from anyways?” Billy asked, crossing his arms over his chest and eyeing the pup suspiciously. 

“It's a police pup reject. The mom got knocked up by a wolf and this is the pup. Bright side is it's trained.” Gator rambled as he sat next to the pup and started petting it's head. 

“A wolf? You want me to keep a wolf as a pet?” Billy balked. 

“Course, they make great guard dogs. Roy has a pack of bout six back home.” 

“Gator, I don't know. I've never had a dog before,” Billy carted a hand through his shaggy hair and sighed. “I don't have food for it and the store is closed.”

Gator shrugged, his face turning down. “I got stuff in the truck, you don't need to get it nothing. I just thought you'd like it. It's gotta be shit being out here alone all the time.” 

Gator was chewing on his lip, looking like he'd been kicked and Billy sighed. “What’s his name?” 

“Gator Jr.” Gator smirked up at Billy.

“That's a shit name.” Billy said arching a brow and suppressing and grin 

“Fuck you, Gator's an awesome name.” Gator threw the old beat up couch pillow at Billy.

Billy caught it and laughed. “I'm not calling him Gator, pick a different name you fucking redneck.”

Gator jutted his lip out and scratched the back of his head. “Fine, I guess her name is Eleven then. That's whats on her tags.” 

“Christ, there's eleven of them?” 

“Yeah, but the others are full German shepherds. The station is gonna keep those.” 

“Go get her stuff and show me how to not kill her.” Billy sighed. 

#caligator #harringrove #billy hargrove #gator tillman #stranger things #fargo #Puppy love #i got the brain rot #i love them your honor #If trash why hot #ao3

[unamused-boss]

Good energy

Okay. This is my first ever fic on here, so I do appreciate polite criticism pls! Plus I've read almost everything for every character I am unhealthy obsessed with... sooo here we go!

Billy Hargrove x Fem Reader

(Billy might be a bit OC in this)

Warnings: strong language, under age drinking

Summary: When Billy moved to Hawkins Indiana he expected rednecks, hicks, and cows. Which he did see and was very much disappointed with. But that was until he sees some color pop out of no where one night in Hawkins.

.......................................................................................................................

Billy was spending his time in Hawkins as patiently as he could, which was close to none. The people were bland, the school was bland, and the weed was bland. 'God I want out of here' was a common thought that crossed his mind through out his day. Between having to deal with his shit-bird of a step-sister Max and with the ass kissing wannabes that do nothing but stick to his ass. All Billy wanted to do was go back to California. The sunsets, the beaches, the waves, the girls, all of it he wanted it all back. The only slight enjoyment he got was when he took the title as 'King' from 'King Steve'.

Currently Billy is walking out to his camaro, wait on his bitch of a sister, drive as fast he can home, hopefully avoid everyone in his house, then go out and get drunk in someone else's backyard. But the universe had other ideas... those idea's being Tommy fucking Hagan. He saw him running up to him from a mile away.

"You gotta be shitting me." Billy muttered irritatedly leaning against his car. Billy to a long drag of his cigarette, hoping for some relief.

"Hey Billy!" Tommy slightly shouted, he seemed somewhat winded from his short run. " You got plans tonight?"

"No, what's it to you?" Billy replied, taking another drag from his cigarette.

"Well there is gonna be a party down by the quarry tonight." Tommy said with a grin on his face.

"Okay? So what's that gotta do with me?" He was getting irritated now. Not only was Max running late but Tommy was still here.

"Harrington's got some girl coming with him, probably his rebound from Princess Wheeler..." That perked Billy's interest, making Steve miserable is his favorite thing to do. "So, what do ya say Hargrove?"

Billy stood still for a minute. No expression on his face only throwing his cigarette on the ground and snubbing it out.

"Count me in... Can't wait to steal Harrington's new girl." Billy laughed as he moved to the driver's seat of his car.

'little shit can skate home' He thought as his car roared out of the parking lot.

On the other side of town at the Chadwick (that will be your last name... sorry not sorry) residence...

Steve was pacing a hole into the floor as his childhood best friend went through her clothes.

"Do you seriously want to go with me tonight? I mean you moved away when you were in sixth grade now you're back... and I mean NOTHING has changed!" Steve was stressing way to much about one party, that being your first party back in Hawkins.

"Steve I'll be fine, the energy that you are putting off right now is not good." You smiled to him. "Good energy will come to you if you let it, you love parties what's got you so worked up plus you've changed for the better."

"That right there! This hippie shit is what is wrong!"

"Steve. If you're gonna worry about me like some mom don't come with me then okay." You didn't want to hurt his feelings but you wanted to have fun. "I get they are all judgy and whatever other adjective you used on the car ride over here, but I don't care. I like who I've become, so "this hippie shit" is trying to decide on the flowing warm skirt or the flowing purple pants!"

"I just don't want you to get mixed into the wrong people." Steve retorted.

"And I won't. I get the you broke things off with all of your old friends and who ever this Billy guy is but you don't have to protect me." You reassured.

"Fine." Steve sighed. "And go with the skirt it will look better with the top."

You smiled to him. "Thank you Steve... now get out I gotta change."

Steve made his way to get out of your room for you to get ready. "Yeah Yeah whatever."

. . .

The time was currently 12:39 am. While the party in the quarry has been going on for quit some time now. Many of the familiar faces of the so called popular crowd made their way in, those faces being Tommy, Billy, Tina, Carol, and among a few others. Billy was buzzed. It may not be a back yard but at least he'd get drunk at the end of the night. Music was blasting from some dude's portable speakers. There was a bonfire lighting the night away. Everyone was either dancing or talking, a few were some were throwing up in the bush. Billy was about to down another drink when Tommy came hurdling right into his back.

"What the hell Hagan." Billy shouted not only for him to hear him but also out of anger.

"Harrington's here with his new girl." He laughed. "You gotta see her, Carol come over here!" Tommy ran and in quick follow so did Carol. Billy sauntered his way over, with what little drink he had left, to where the two love birds perched themselves. And that is when Billy Hargrove saw a burst of color. There she was. She didn't dress like anyone else in Hawkins (Think Stevie Nicks Style). 'She couldn't be from this shit hole. Her hair was frizzy and a but unruly. Her skin glowed with the warm light. The clothes held to each curve of her body but flowed so elegantly as she walked. Who is this babe, not chic she's to pretty to be called a chic, and why was she with Harrington.' All these thoughts pondered Billy's mind.

"Holy shit." Carol said. Tommy and Billy can bot clearly see the shock on her face.

"What?" Tommy questioned, "Do you know her?"

"That's Y/N Chadwick! She moved in the sixth grade!" Slapping Tommy's arm. He gave no response only to be in more shock than Carol.

"Ain't no way... she looks great." That comment got a direct and aggressive response from Tommy. To which he responded with a vocal "Ow!?".

With you and Steve, you guys were just strolling by the bonfire. A cup of jungle juice in your hand with Steve was cupless due to being the driver of the night.

"So first party back in Hawkins, how does it feel?" Steve asked.

"Pretty far out, kinda better than any party from the city." You answered joyfully. To be honest you were happy to be back in Hawkins. City life was fun but it was getting to be to much for you.

"STevE!" An uneven voice yelled out across the rocky yard from us. You saw a girl with bangs and a bob cut calling over to Steve. Clearly she has had her fair share of alcohol.

"Hey Robin!" Steve responded. " You don't mind if I go talk to her do you?"

"No, go have fun!" You cheered. " Go flow, relax!"

"Good energy." Steve gritted through his teeth with a smile as he made his way over to this Robin girl. While you stayed right by the fire with your drink.

Billy saw his opportunity, you were alone and he could talk to you with Steve out of the way. Billy made his way over to you by the bonfire. You look to the guy that has just appeared beside you in the moment.

"Hey." He said it very smoothly.

"Hello." You respond with a sweet smile. Billy could just stare at you smiling. 'Come on man... you just met her get it together.' Billy thought.

"I've never seen you around before, I'm Billy." As Billy introduced himself, he took a step forward to close some space between the both of you. You ,however, stayed where you stood just smiling to the guy Steve was telling you about.

"So you're Billy." You grinned to him. 'God why do the jerks have to be so pretty'. "Steve mentioned you a few times but he didn't tell me how handsome you were."

"Well at least you get the in person experience." Billy answered, " So from what I've heard you have returned to Hawkins."

"Yes I have, what's it to you?" You questioned with a grin.

"Well sweetheart I wanna get to know you, I get you moved back but I am no longer the new kid on the block."

"Well what do you wanna know?" He is trying to be sly. You wanna see were this plays into. His eyes glance behind you.

"If you're gonna ask me if I'm dating Steve you would be wrong." You stated. "He was my best friend as a kid that I kept in contact with, plus he has a lot of stressed energy."

"So you're a hippie girl?" Billy said it as if he was fascinated by you. " Could you tell me what my energy is?"

"You're very hostile." You answered. "You are very tense, you have not relaxed since you have started talking with me. If this is some front you're putting on... I don't dig it." Billy was stunned.

"I'm not putting up any front." He retorted.

"Billy you seem like you have a lot of inner conflict with yourself, and don't try to say other wise." You said. "I already know about the stuff you've done around here and to Steve."

"What?" Billy is confused. "I thought you were into me but now you're giving me this psychoanalysis shit." Billy was clearly getting frustrated with you. So much so it was able to catch Steve's attention.

"Listen, I get some of the stuff I say is weird but I'm not wrong and you know it..." You said. "And I am into you but not if this front you're putting is what I'm getting."

Billy could not believe it. He was getting rejected, rejected by a beautiful girl. ' What the hell'...

"Billy." She cuts him out of his thoughts. "I would love you get to know you if you let me." She stepped closer this time, gently placing her fingers into his. She looked to him, he wants to answer but words aren't coming out of his mouth. 'Say something stupid... anything.'

"How about next Saturday, at 6... good for you?" He said this more gently this time. His frustration and building agitation was gone now.

"I would like that Billy." You answered with a smile, a smile that caused Billy to return. It was like a moment was set in place for you both. Billy could no longer hear the laughing or music, all he was looking at was you. There was something different about you, in a good way. Billy wants to know what that is. Your somewhat romantic moment was busted when a certain head of hair popped up next to you.

"Do we have a problem, Hargrove?" Steve asked. Not only did he get too distracted that Billy walked up to you but he seemed to have been in a sort of deep conversation with you. If you can call it that.

"No. No Harrington we're all good here, right sweetheart." Billy answered, he grinned.

"Yeah, we're fine Steve... I'll see you later Billy." You walked away with Steve. Well more like Steve dragging you to his car to leave after the interaction. You gave a small wave to Billy as you were dragged away.

"What was that all about?" Tommy asked drunk and confused.

"I think I got a date." Billy answered still looking off to were you left. In that moment Billy Hargrove had a thought he never thought he would have... 'I hope this works out.'

When you and Steve reached his car, he instantly went to mom mode.

"What was that about!" Steve shouted, frazzled at the look and thought of the two of you interacting.

"I think I have a date." You giggled. Steve paused...

"WhAT!"

............................................................................................................................

Okay so I'm gonna end it right there. Please tell me what you think, I would love to hear feed back. As well as what to do to improve myself.

Thank you so much for reading!

#billy hargrove x fem reader #fem reader #billy hargove imagine #billy hargrove #stranger things #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #dustin henderson #eleven hopper #demogorgon #vecna stranger things #x female reader #hippie #80's

[sshewonders]

WARM BODIES

Chapter 02: The Quarry

chapter synopsis: Seeking refuge after explosions, you, Lori, Carl, and Shane join a growing group in a quarry. Newcomer Glenn forms a bond with you, bringing humor and positive influence. The infected, nicknamed "geeks," pose a constant threat. Internal conflicts arise due to Shane's leadership and his relationship with Lori. Food scarcity adds pressure, and Dale's RV becomes a place for reflection and art. Through sketching, you depict the transformed world and find solace in camaraderie.

chapter warnings: This chapter contains mentions of PTSD triggers, violence, and intimate situations. Reader discretion is advised.

word count: 2.1k words

author's note: Do you want to be part of my taglist? If so, just comment! Anyway, this is chapter two, and it's kind of a mess, I guess, but don't worry. Our crossbow-wielding redneck will be in the next chapter, so hang on tight! Thank you for the support, by the way! I love you all!

MASTERLIST

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You, Lori, Carl, and Shane had sought refuge in a quarry, a decision influenced by Dale, an elderly man with a generous heart who often camped there with his late wife. Using your unique persuasion skills, you managed to convince Shane and Lori to follow Dale's suggestion.

It had been a span of six days since the harrowing explosions that disrupted your lives. During the time, you witnessed an influx of newcomers seeking shelter. People arrived one by one, driven by a shared desire for safety and a sense of belonging. The growing community included Morales and his family, a woman named Jacqui, a fellow survivor who adopted the nickname T-dog, a man named Jim, and a woman called Andrea, who came with her younger sister, Amy.

While a few other individuals occupied the vicinity, the core of this makeshift society revolved around your group.

On the second day, however, while you were out picking mushrooms in the forest, you stumbled upon an Asian guy, specifically Korean, who appeared dehydrated and in need of help. Although initially skeptical as you were naturally shy and cautious around strangers, decided to offer him the bottle of water you had with you. He eagerly drank it all and introduced himself as Glenn. In return, you shared your name, and a tentative connection was formed.

After providing Glenn with the much-needed water, you decided to bring him back to the camp. He introduced himself to everyone, and from that day forward, Glenn seemed to stick to you like a shadow, following you around as if you were long-lost friends.

Both of you were about the same age and discovered you had striking similarities. Glenn, in contrast to your shyness, was known for keeping his composure under pressure and making quick, practical decisions. He often used humor as a coping mechanism, bringing much-needed levity to their dire situation.

Hours turned into days, and Glenn's presence had a noticeable impact on you. You started to adapt to his sense of humor and gradually shed some of your shyness and awkwardness. While not entirely transformed, you were becoming more like Glenn in some ways, thanks to your shared experiences and growing friendship.

Meanwhile, in terms of the unknown disease, it was an understatement to say that things had gone from bad to worse. The infected, whom you and Glenn had come to humorously nickname "geeks," now roamed the woods surrounding the camp. There was a unanimous agreement that any encounter with these geeks was a deadly threat that had to be neutralized, as they showed no hesitation in attempting to bite the living.

Despite the dire circumstances that had become your new reality, you felt a sense of gratitude for having crossed paths with such a helpful and supportive group of survivors. The companionship provided some solace, a welcome distraction from the persistent grief that still weighed heavy on your heart.

The group's only tether to the outside world was through sporadic radio broadcasts, but they provided little in the way of assistance or useful information. The broadcasts served as a constant reminder of how isolated and vulnerable they had become in this new world, where everyone's only choice was to rely on each other for survival.

However, there was a lingering dissatisfaction that seemed to revolve around Shane, the man who had taken up the role of leader within the group. Yet, there was something about Shane's demeanor that rubbed her the wrong way. He seemed overly confident, even bordering on arrogance. You couldn't quite put your finger on why he had assumed the role of leader, and the fact that he had been a police officer wasn't reason enough in your eyes.

You often pondered what it truly meant to lead in these dire times, and what kind of leadership the group needed to survive in this harsh new world. The notion that Shane had simply taken charge because of his previous profession left you with a sense of uncertainty, as if the group's dynamics weren't quite as clear-cut as they appeared.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of anger and discomfort as you observed the growing closeness between Shane and Lori. There were times when you spotted them emerging from the woods together, and it was clear that something had transpired between them; sex.

Your thoughts turned to Rick, and the fact that he had essentially just passed away. It frustrated you to think that Lori might have found solace and intimacy with Shane so soon after such a loss.

On one hand, you recognized that grief can take many forms, and you didn't want to judge Lori for seeking comfort in whatever way she saw fit. However, the idea of Lori and Shane being intimate was a concept that repulsed you to the point where you couldn't even bring yourself to make eye contact with them or engage in conversation. It was a complex mix of emotions, and you were grateful that Carl remained blissfully unaware of your internal turmoil.

The reality was that the food situation had taken a turn for the worse. While Dale had brought along some fishing gear, they had been unable to catch much in the quarry. To make matters more challenging, Ed, Carol's abusive husband, had a stash of M.R.E.s in his survival kit. However, they were now down to their last box, and Ed was far from generous when it came to sharing them. Unfortunately, nobody in the group had experience as a hunter or trapper, and that included you.

Your recurve bow had been more of a decorative piece, used solely for target practice, and you were far from proficient in using it to catch living, moving creatures. In the current predicament, your bow felt almost useless.

Six days passed. Perched on the roof of Dale's RV, you sat in silence, your sketchpad resting on your lap. The sun hung low on the horizon, casting a warm, golden hue over the world around you. To one side, a vast expanse of mountains stretched out, their peaks painted with shades of blue and green that melded seamlessly into the sky. The water below shimmered like a sapphire gem, reflecting the tranquil beauty that was now a distant memory.

Your fingers danced across the paper, your pencil capturing the contours of the landscape with precision. Your eyes moved back and forth between the scene before you and the sketchpad, each glance translating the vivid panorama into lines and shades. The pencil strokes were deliberate, a careful mimicry of nature's artistry.

But as the drawing took shape, it morphed from the serene image of the mountains and water to a darker, more ominous rendition. The mountains retained their imposing majesty, but the colors bled into a palette of greys and blacks, casting an eerie shadow over the once vibrant scenery. The bluish water turned into an inky abyss, its depths hinting at hidden dangers lurking beneath.

Your brows furrowed as you meticulously etched these changes onto your sketchpad. It was as if your pencil was channeling the transition that had swept over the world. The tranquility had been marred, replaced by an air of uncertainty and foreboding. Your fingers moved with a mix of determination and resignation, a reflection of the emotions that swirled within her.

Beside you, Dale watched with a knowing gaze. He understood the weight that your sketch held, capturing the essence of the reality in a way that words could never fully convey. The scene before you was no longer just a picturesque landscape; it was a mirror reflecting the transformation of your lives.

Your pencil continued its dance across the sketchpad, each stroke a deliberate expression of the world around her. From the corner of your eye, you noticed Dale's thoughtful gaze fixed upon you.

Dale cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "What's catchin' your eye there?"

You paused, your pencil hovering over the paper. You glanced at the drawing, the transition from vibrant beauty to haunting darkness captured in those lines. A sigh escaped your lips before you turned to Dale, your voice soft. "I guess I'm trying to capture both sides of this world now."

Dale's brow furrowed in curiosity as he leaned closer, his eyes studying the sketch. "Both sides?"

"Yeah," you replied, your voice soft. "On one hand, you've got this breathtaking landscape, those mountains and the bluish water. It's like a memory of how things were. But then..." You gestured to the drawing, the greys and blacks casting a somber overtone. "There's this darkness, the gloom that's come with all the changes. The beauty is still there, but it's... different."

Dale nodded slowly, his gaze shifting from the sketch to the world beyond. "Seems you're capturin' the heart of it all. The way things used to be, and the way they are now."

You nodded in agreement, your eyes fixed on your drawing. "It's like we're living in this in-between space. Remembering what once was, but constantly reminded of what's become of it."

Dale placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "It's important to remember where we come from."

A hint of gratitude flickered in your eyes as you turned to Dale. "Yeah, you're right. It's just... strange to put it all into a drawing, to see it right there on paper."

Dale's gaze softened. "Art's got a way of showin' us things we might not see otherwise. Helps us make sense of the world, in its own unique way."

You returned his smile, your fingers curling around the pencil once more. "Guess I'll keep sketching then."

Dale's eyes brightened. "You know, I got more coloring materials in the RV if you need 'em. Could add a splash of color to your sketches."

Your cheeks tinged with a shy smile. "Actually, it's not the coloring materials I'm running out of... it's the paper."

Dale chuckled warmly. "Well, next time we're out on a supply run, we'll keep an eye out for sketchbooks, too."

"Sounds like a plan," you replied, your gratitude evident in your voice.

As your pencil resumed its dance, you couldn't help but feel thankful for the camaraderie that existed in your makeshift family, and the small gestures of support that reminded you that you were all in this together.

With a final stroke, you completed your drawing, capturing the stark beauty of the world around you on paper. The pencil rested in your hand, and you admired you creation for a moment, a bittersweet smile gracing your lips. Your thoughts were interrupted by Lori's voice echoing from the distance.

"Y/N, it's time for you to go pick mushrooms in the woods for dinner," Lori called out from the campsite.

You nodded, setting your sketchpad aside. You climbed down from the RV and headed to your tent. As you unzipped the tent, your eyes caught the glint of your bow leaning against a corner, an old friend you hadn't used in a while.

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