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rite4fun · 1 year

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devils’ ride

based loosely on this song,, realistically i only had a small idea of what i wanted to write but then it came out to this, it’s been sitting in my notes for weeks and i only like some of it but now i don’t know if i want to delete it all or just post it for funsies so.. here ya go (if there are errors, don’t look)

18+ content

••

blue ridge, georgia. 1998.

“here you go baby” you hear your mother softly coo as you enter the kitchen. you watch her slide pieces of bacon from a pan onto a plate that lies in front of your father who just grunts in return as he continues to read the newspaper in his hands, “morning my other baby” she sends you sweet smile that you return as she steps around the table to set a kiss on your cheek.

“morning ma” you return her kiss before making your way to your father, “morning daddy” you set a swift kiss on his cheek before settling into a chair at the table. your mother is quick to set a plate of eggs, bacon and toast infront of you.

“morning darlin’, sleep well?” your father sets the newspaper down before using his other hand to pick up his coffee, you hold his gaze as he takes a sip and sets it back on the table.

“mhm..” you nod with a hum as you shovel food quickly into your mouth. your fathers gaze returns to the newspaper in his hand.

for a few minutes, the room is filled with the sound of sizzling bacon on a pan, silverware scraping against glass plates, and the occasional rustle of paper when your father finishes reading a page.

until your mother gasps quietly, “oh! honey you will never know what i heard from janet at the grocery store” she turns around, her own plate in her hands and sits in a chair close to your father, “she was telling me she saw will’s son.. you remember will?” your father hums in acknowledgment, “well she said she saw will’s eldest down around them shady bars in the city.. said he was hanging with some gang, looked like he was on a bender”

“what in the hell is janet herself doing over there?” your father questions, finally setting the newspaper down and giving your mother his full attention.

“she wasn’t.. just drove by and he was just there, standing on the side of the building with some real silmey looking guys”

your father shakes his head in disgust, “will’s youngest? where is he nowadays since his ol’ man been locked up again?”

your mother shrugs in response before turning to you, “you ever see him ‘round school?”

you set your fork down on your plate, lifting the napkin from your lap to wipe the corners of your mouth, swallowing the food you had just shoveled into your mouth. you shake your head before opening your mouth to let one word slip through, “nah”

your father quirks an eyebrow, eyes narrowed and head tilted. you’re quick to straighten your back and correct the improper grammar that fell easily from your lips, “no.. no i have not seen him, ma.”

your mother hums and shrugs before returning to her own plate, continuing to eat but your appetite is gone as you feel your fathers gaze still on you. you meet his eyes as he shifts in his chair, straightening his back and leaning his forearms on the table, an unmannered trait that he would yell at you for. he points a finger in your direction, “you stay away from them dixons, good for nothing but trouble, the lot of them”

“oh john, that boy is nothing but a kid” your mother defends the dixons youngest.

“don’t give two shits how old that little twat is, his fathers’ a drunken asshole and his brother runs the streets for a little cooze, can’t imagine the state of tha’ boy.. destined for nothing stable, i’ll tell ya tha’”

you stand up quick, grabbing your half finished plate, “going to head out”

“you’ve still got an hour and a half until school starts honey” your mother protests as she looks up at your figure that moves around the sink, rinsing your dish and setting it in the dishwasher.

“i’m meeting mandy and kate at the library to study for the bio quiz today” you step back to your mother, pressing a goodbye kiss to her cheek. you step towards your father to do the same, it’s as swift as the first one you gave him. your body turns to leave the room but your fathers hand grips your bicep tightly, forcing your attention back on him.

“you see tha’ boy anywhere and you turn the other way, you understand?” his voice is stern, a hint of distaste in his tone as he spits the word boy out.

there’s something on the tip of your tongue, something sharp.. but you swallow it, nodding your head softly with a smile, “yes daddy”

he grunts as he lets go of your arm and you take your exit quickly before either one of them can utter another word. swiping your backpack from the doorway and stepping out the door, you take a shuddering breath of fresh air before walking down the steps of your porch and into the sun.

••

click

you lightly shade in the outline of a dress that you drew on a sheet of paper, you slip the end of the pencil in between your teeth as your finger smudges the ink.

click

your body shifts, adjusting the pressure on your shoulders as you lay on your stomach, upper body perched up by your elbows, knees bent as your feet sway in the air behind you.

click

you grab the pencil once more to shade the piece darker, smudging it again after. once satisfied, you move to another area on the sheet of paper to repeat the process. the shifting of the bed you lay upon disturbs your handy work and your eyes are quick to gaze upon the intruder.

the boy across from you leans back against the pillows of the bed, you watch as he shakes the box of cigarettes against his palm before taking one out, tossing the box on the nightstand next to him. shaggy brown bangs fall into his face when he settles back into the pillows but he makes no move to sweep them out the way, instead flicking open his lighter with a soft click and lighting the dart that lies between his lips delicately.

your attention no longer lingers on the work infront of you so you close the notebook and set it to the side before leaning your chin onto your palm, “my father spoke about you this morning”

blue eyes meet yours as the boys pink lips purse around the end of the cigarette, inhaling the smoke then releasing it into the open air, “yeah? wha’ sweet words did daddy dearest utter on my behalf?”

you shrug, “same old stuff..” you lift your body up and crawl closer to the boys body. his gaze watching every move as you throw a leg over his lap, “said if i ever saw you.. to turn the other way” you smirk playfully at him as you settle more heavily upon him, his free hand finding it’s rightful place on your hip, fingertips slipping under the tank top you wear and brushing over the soft skin underneath.

the boy lets out a grunt as your hips shift above his, “should listen to ‘im..”

you roll your eyes, “daryl… the day i listen to every word my father says, i’ll be a nun and wearing a shirt up to my chin”

daryls’ eyes wander to your chest revealed by your tank that has fallen enough to reveal some cleavage to his eager gaze before shooting back up to your face, “yer hot ‘nough to pull it off”

you scoff, slapping at his chest as he laughs. a smile creeping upon your lips as his body shakes with the action, in turn moving yours as you rest on his lap. he lifts the cigarette back to his lips, inhaling then exhaling shortly after. your gaze follows every movement but linger on his lips, his tongue swiping quickly over them, making them shine against the light. he reaches his arm out to stub the dart into an ashtray on the nightstand before his attention falls back on you. the hand not resting upon your hip, grips the one you lay upon his chest. he brings it up to his face and remains eye contact with you as he presses a soft kiss to the palm of your hand.

your breath hitches, hips shifting above his at the light feather feeling but he doesn’t stop there.. his mouth opens wider, pink slick tongue darting out to graze the skin of your palm before his lips close again in a gentle kiss.

in no time, you sweep the upper half of your body down to press against his chest and crash your lips upon his. you feel him smirk into the kiss, his hands moving to slip down your body, fingertips grazing the dip of your waist to caressing your ass and sliding back down your thighs with a tight grip.

a gasp escapes your mouth at the sensation, allowing him to swipe his tongue against yours, deepening the kiss. the ever familar lingering taste of nicotine in his mouth is enough to have your legs squeezing his body between them. you tilt your head to the side more and slip a hand into his soft hair, pulling softly but enough for him to release a throaty moan at the feeling.

you’ve just began to roll your hips against his when the sudden sound of an alarm goes off, forcing your lips to separate with a slick sound, your own stomach clenching and his hips twitching in reaction to such noise.

you refuse to remove yourself from the warmth of his lap, instead reaching your upper body for your phone further down the bed and turning off the alarm. you drop the phone and return your attention to the boy below you, his eyes are half lidded, lips spit slick and swollen, cheeks a rosy red, he is a sight to behold and you imagine you aren’t much better by the way his hands clench where they lay against your thighs once he gets a good glance at your state.

you let out a disappointed sigh, “time for school..”

daryl releases a grunt as you lift yourself out from his hold and off the bed completely. grabbing the sweatshirt you laid on the desk chair in the room, you pull it over yourself. a small cracked mirror sits above the messy desk where you are able to catch a glimpse of your appearance. you were right… you weren’t much better yourself, lips swollen and eyes glazed over just from a little bit of kissing. you straighten up your hair, adjusting your clothes before turning back to the bed and gathering your belongings back into your backpack.

all the while, daryl remains still in the silence save for your shuffling. he’s got one arm now bent, hand resting behind his head, the other splaying across his stomach. his blue eyes narrowing, captivated by every movement you make.

you can’t help but smile at him, knowing just what effect you had on him, similar to the one he too, had on you. you watch the corner of his mouth, twitching as it threatens to release a smile but instead he bites his lip to prevent it from actually slipping.

“come on. we leave now, we’ll make it just in time for the first late bell” you lean a hand against the bed as you glance down to slide your boots on. standing upright again, you throw your backpack over one shoulder, finally looking to where daryl still lays, his gaze now lowered, “you can’t skip again, daryl… that’s three days in a row. we even have that bio quiz third period today! we studied together all week, you’ll ace it!”

the encouragement does nothing to make him move and your shoulders drop slightly. you know he can do it.. you spent hours together going over your own notes. you even sat in his lap quzzing him on the subject as he claimed he could focus better if you were closer. kissing him after every answer he got right which was all of them. his eyes would light up at your praise, stealing extra kisses when he could, just to hear that sweet giggle of yours when you’d playfully push him away, claiming “you know the rules dixon, you only get one for each question” but you’d lean down anyway to slot your lips together because denying him- meant denying yourself.

you glance at the time, biting your lip as you realize if you don’t leave soon, you’ll be late again and your father will surely follow through with the threat to take your phone away.

“fine” you round the bed to the side daryl lays on, leaning down and pressing a quick but bruising kiss to his lips, “i’ll let miss o’donnell know you are still sick but i swear on everything if you miss the retake day of this quiz, i’ll beat your fucking ass daryl”

you turn away, his voice raspy as he finally opens his mouth, “such filthy words comin’ from daddy’s sweet southern belle, must be rubbing off on ya’ a bit too much”

you can practically see the smirk on his face from just the tone of his voice even with your back to him as you continue to walk towards his bedroom door, so you throw him a middle finger over your shoulder and you know he sees it when you hear his sweet laugh, smile spreading helplessly across your own lips at the sound.

“won’t be much rubbing off on me anymore if you don’t get your ass to school sometime this week” you threaten, it’s an empty threat but you throw it out there anyway.

you reach the door of his room, pulling it open but before your body can push through the doorway, he calls out to you. his tone gone soft and you turn to give him your full attention, leaning your body against the frame. he has sat himself up more, back leaning against the wall behind his bed, eyes casted down at his lighter that his fingers fiddle with, a nervous habit of his that you find endearing.

“we still on for tonight?” it’s a simple question but his tone is soft, vulnerable even as if you’ll reply with anything but a yes.

you wait for him to look you in the eyes, before sharing a smile, one full of reassurance that there isn’t anywhere you’d rather be than being with him, “nine o’clock on the dot dixon and not a minute late”

“yes ma’am”

••

you lay as still as possible in your bed, listening to your mothers footsteps as she begins turning the lights in the house off.

there is some quiet mumbling as she says a quick goodnight to your father who has passed out in his infamous arm chair infront of the tv. a few bottles of beer after dinner always left him in a deep slumber, you and your mother have learned it’s best to just leave him be then attempt to lift his deadweight all the way upstairs to your parents room.

there is more shuffling before you can hear her steps on the stairs, she passes the door of your room, then finally the click of your parents door shutting. you take a quick glance on your phone, checking the time 8:50, it reads. perfect timing.

you wait the extra five minutes for your mother to settle into her own bed, tv playing some soap opera she only indulges in when your father spends the night downstairs.

8:55. you carefully climb out of bed with practised ease, your following steps coming just as quietly when you gather your bag and step out onto the landing of your stairs. you chance one more look at your parents bedroom door, the obvious voices of your mothers favorite show loud enough to drown any small noise the old house may make.

years of living in this house has left you knowing every inch- stepping more to the left on the eighth step and skipping the fourth step completely. you release a soft but quiet breath when your feet finally hit the bottom floor.

you peek into the living room, a soft glow of light from the tv illumating the sleeping face of your father. his snores bounce off the walls on account of the many beers he had and the deep sleep he is encountering.

lingering no further, you step into the kitchen and taking a pit stop at the fridge to pull out the container you secretly packed. you had sent your mother and father to the living room after dinner, offering to do clean up. you’d pack the tubberware with leftovers before shoving it in the back of the fridge, hidden by the many bottles of beer and random condiments.

you reach your arm in to pull it out, the edge of the container skimming a beer bottle that teeters the edge of the shelf, your other hand is quick to grab it before it falls but not without jostling the other bottles beside it. you freeze with a pounding heart at the tinkering of the glass bouncing off one another.

you curse quietly under your breath because of course, the one night you decide to do something out of the ordinary, it goes wrong. you hear nothing else but your fathers snores and quickly decide that now, is probably not the right time to be second guessing decisions. you quietly shut the fridge before heading to the back door, opening it and slipping through.

you rush through your backyard, slipping into the dark with measured steps before you see the familiar old black cadalliac pulled up on the side of the street, door already open for you to slip in.

“yer late” 9:01, the clock reads.

you pull the car door shut as the car shifts to drive, “‘caused a big ruckus getting this” you lifted the container of food in question, “had to make sure there was no witnesses”

“wha’ is it?”

“dinner..” you look over at the boy next to you, the street lights casting a soft glow on his face, “janet saw merle in the city a few days ago and he wasn’t at the house this morning. assumed he has been m.i.a for a bit and figured it’s been even longer since you have had a home cooked meal.”

you watch daryl fight a smile, the car slows to a stop at a red light before he is turning towards you. his hand reaches out to grip your chin, pulling you to meet him halfway and crashing his lips to yours, mumbling a small “yer too damn sweet, belle”

you smile and hum against his lips, “it’s nothing…” your cheeks flare at the sentiment anyway before your pulling away and daryl is facing forward again just as the light changes to green.

the roads remain empty as the car navigates through the back roads of your small town. you share the gossip of the day at school to keep him in the loop, he really doesn’t give a shit about anyone that isn’t you but he listens anyway because he loves hearing you talk. finally, you hit the highway and you can feel your body beginning to tingle as daryls foot presses harder on the gas to match the high speeds of the road. he rolls the windows down and turns the music up.

it’s not his first rodeo, he knows you love this. the wind whipping through your hair and the music flooding your ears at a deafening height. you explained to him once that this..

just you, him, the open highway and the dirty lyrics of a rock song blaring from the radio..

this is where you belong. this is where you feel most you. free.

daryl wishes he could just stare at you as he drives but he takes the little glimpses he can get when he chances a small glance in the direction at where you sit next to him. a ghost of a smile rests on your face as you sing along to the music. your hair tangling from the wind, small pieces occasionally sticking to your lips but you pay them no mind. you hold an arm out the window, the cool air nipping at it.

you catch one of his glimpses and he is quick to face back towards the road, allowing you to take your turn in drinking him in under the moonlight.

his side profile is picture perfect. from his wind blown bangs that sweep across his forehead down to the sharp slope of his nose and his red bitten lips (thanks to his anxious lip biting habit), all the way to his even sharper jawline. god, you just want to fucking ruin him for sitting there so effortlessly, unaware that his presence alone makes you crazy.

he can feel you staring, how could he not? the lighting is dark enough to hide the color he is sure paints his cheeks but he still feels the heat of them. he tilts his head further towards the window, allowing the cold air to cool them down.

you watch his body shift, continuing to trail your eyes down. he wears a dark grey tee, the short sleeves leaving his arms naked, goosebumps spread as the night breeze flows in. his muscles flexing as he re-adjusts his hand on the steering wheel. your eyes narrow as they fall to the light wash jeans that cover his bottom half and it is then, you realize that staring is no longer enough but rather you need to feel him.

you’d endured a day in hell beginning with mandy and kate grilling you on your whereabouts this morning when you missed the study group, then miss o’donnell chose today of all days to be in a pissy mood, to finally going home, your father having a shitty day at work and taking it out on anyone who dare cross his path. the only thing that would have soothed the ever building stress under your skin was the occasional glimpses of daryl you’d catch throughout the day. the simple twitch of his lips when he catches your eyes lingering too long on him or the bravery to meet your eyes and sending you a sly wink when you pass in the halls. alas, he wasn’t there today. the beginning of the shitty day really began then.

you scoot your body to the middle seat, daryls’ eyes glancing at you in question but he says nothing as he refocuses back on the road ahead when you do nothing but stare ahead with a hidden smile.

you wait long enough that daryl no longer suspects anything, twisting half your body towards him, placing a hand on his stomach and pressing a kiss to the bicep of his outstretched arm that holds the steering wheel. your eyelashes flutter before your gazing up at him through them while your hand travels further south, settling on the zipper of his jeans.

the music still plays at the level you had originally turned it up too, talking was out of the question but you guys never needed words to communicate.

he presses his back further into the seat, hips lifting against your hand and sharing a quick glance with you before his attention is back on the road. it’s more than enough of an answer for you so you waste no time in unbuttoning his pants and pulling the zipper down. your hand grips him through his briefs, his cock already hard and throbbing against your palm. you press your thighs together and you can’t help but bite softly at his bicep to contain a moan at the feeling of him twitching in your hand.

daryl can’t seem to keep his body still at your touch so he shifts again, both hands reaching out to grip the steering wheel now.

you press closer to his body as you pull him out of his briefs finally. his mouth drops as your thumb swipes the precum that spills from his tip before dragging it down the side. god, you wish you could hear him.

you lift your face from the side of his arm before latching onto his neck, trailing sloppy kisses anywhere you could reach. every twitch of his cock receives a squeeze as your hand drags up and down, thumbing his tip for more precum to spread to make the glide easier. the slight roughness of it all only turns daryl on more.

your kisses reach his ear and you take full advantage of his lack of control in this situation, “god, you feel so good in my hand” following your words with a quiet gasp before your back to trailing kisses down his neck.

his response is a slight jerk of the car as his foot falls heavy on the pedal along with a rough twitch of his cock in your hand that releases a larger amount of precum. you smirk against his neck, pressing one final kiss to the soft skin before leaning back.

your hand is able to move faster along his cock now, twisting your wrist everytime you your hand glides up towards his sensitive tip, something you know daryl enjoys. you glance at his face as you do the motion again, his head presses into the seat, eyelashes fluttering, threatening to shut but they stay half lidded to keep an eye on the road ahead as he chews on his bottom lip roughly.

you lean towards his ear again, “i want you in my mouth..” the car revvs as his foot drops again, “need you to focus real hard, yeah? can you do that for me?”

you lean back with a smile as he nods vigorously in response. you twist your wrist once more, a reward for being so gracious and allowing you do whatever you want to him. your next moves are quick, slipping under his arms and guiding him to your mouth. the second he feels your lips press against his tip, his foot drops again.

daryl takes a deep breath, trying to focus even more on not driving the car into a fucking ditch but it’s tough as your sweet, warm mouth envelopes his cock, sliding slowly down his shaft, your tongue flicking over a sensitive vein.

daryls releasing one hand from the steering wheel to turn the music down and you try to protest with him still in your mouth, the vibrations making his head spin, “fuck.. yer so good”

his chest heaves heavily, his free hand going to rest on the back of your head, fist only curling into your hair but not pressing. you’re so fucking perfect to him. from the kindness of your heart to even think of bringing him dinner to the sweet warmth of your mouth moving up and down his cock. he might just fucking love you. it should be a terrifying thought but it’s not the first time it came across his mind, maybe because he has always cared for you since you bounded into his life. you’re on his mind the minute he becomes conscious to the world to being his last thought as he lays in bed at night.

you are his. despite not a single soul on earth knowing what goes on between you two behind closed doors, you are it for him and he can’t imagine a life where you aren’t here with him.

“baby..” he growls the endearing term as he grips your hair tighter, “’m gonna cum… fuck” his train of thoughts are everywhere between keeping the car steady, his overwhelming desire to confess his love for you, and the need to finally cum.

now doesn’t seem like the right time to confess something that he feels so deeply as you give him head in his dads cadalliac. nevermind the fact that he actually wants to spend the rest of his life with you and he can’t do that if he crashes the fucking car, whether he dies from the accident or his father finds out and sends out a hit man for ruining his precious car. with a quick decision in mind, he slides the vehicle to the side of the road and shoves the gear stick into park.

you hum in confusion and stop the bopping of your head on his cock, lifting until just the tip lies in your mouth. you expect his hand to release your hair so you can sit up but instead, he presses you further down his cock slowly, testing the waters.. “‘s okay, just don’ want to crash the car all because yer pretty mouth wanted to suck m’ cock” he grunts as you’re quick to open your mouth wider, suctioning and swiping your tongue in agreement as he guides you with the hand on the back of your head.

“can ya’ swallow fo’ me, pretty girl?” his voice is rough, that raspy tone that lets you know just how gone he is. as if you didn’t know from the tensing of his thighs below your hands and the constant twitching of his cock in your mouth.

you reach a hand to grip the base of his cock as your mouth focuses on the tip. the swirling and flicking of your tongue matching the twists and squeezes of your hand. every sensation is different, it’s almost too much yet not enough.

daryl doesn’t even have time to question which feels better before the grip in your hair tightens and his body tenses. his head falling forward as he whines out quiet curses, “fuck, fuck, fuck”

the first bout of cum are violent spurts that make you jerk your head back a bit in shock but you’re prepared for the next, squeezing the base of his cock to milk him of every last drop and more.

his grip on your hair releases, softening instead to massage your scalp incase he pulled too hard as he was lost in bliss. you plan to clean up every last drop on his cock but the sensitivity gives way quickly as you suckle at his head, flicking your tongue over his slit and daryl releases a grunt, “tha’s enough”

you allow him to slip from your mouth but not before you can press a final kiss to his tip before fully leaning your body back and aren’t you a sight to see with your glossy eyes, swollen and slick lips, even your cheeks are flushed. you look utterly wrecked and daryl can feel himself twitch weakly when your lips stretch into a satisfied smile.

“yer fuckin’ insane, belle” he shakes his head as he carefully puts himself back into his briefs and doing his pants up again.

and just when he thinks your smile can’t get any brighter, it somehow does and you beam with that familar glint in your eye, the knowledge of what it could mean warming his heart. he can’t help reaching out to grip the side of your neck, pulling you to him and crashing his lips against yours.

your taste is mix of something you guys created together and daryl can see himself becoming addicted to it, if he isn’t already as he already regrets pulling away from your sweet mouth, “come on, buckle up. we’re almost there” he nudges his head towards the empty road and you nod before sticking close to him, laying your head against his body as he puts the car in drive again and takes off.

••

“he wants to send me to a stupid all girls boarding school, said i’ll be able to focus more on my studies there but i know he just wants to lock me away and not have to worry that i’m off somewhere doing something i shouldn’t” daryl sends a look from his seat across from you, “don’t say anything” you warn as your foot nudges his legs as you catch the meaning behind the sly look.

smoke releases from your mouth when you pull the cigarette away, tapping it against the built in ashtray of the car. normally you’d never pick up the small dart that lays between your fingers but sometimes a shitty day warrants for the burn of one.

the car sits stationed behind the familiar abandoned train station that’s roughly thirty minutes out from your house. you sit sideways in the backseat of the black cadalliac with your legs thrown over daryls own. the windows are cracked, letting the cool breeze in as music plays softly from the radio.

“wasn’t gonn’, belle” daryl replies, his feet kicks the empty container you brought him. the delicious spaghetti and meatballs your mother made was filling, sometimes he likes to visualize himself thanking her personally but then he remembers who he is and the vision dissipates into dust, leaving an ugly hollow feeling in his chest.

“saw it on your face” you huff, leaning forward slightly to hand him the cigarette and releasing the smoke you’ve just inhaled.

when you first met, he was never a big fan of words so over the years, you had gotten better at reading every look, touch, movement.. anything that he does to determine what they all mean.. he’d argued he is just as good at reading you.

daryl places the dart between his lips, taking a few hits before stubbing it out completely. he can tell you have more to say, your day seemed to irritate you more than usual and he can’t help but think that he should have just sucked it up this morning and gone to the shitty highschool.. even if he would have been miserable, he’d be able to keep an eye out for you.

admittedly all he’d do is cover up your attempts to look or brush against him in the halls. you were never particularly good at being sly but whatever you did was enough that nobody suspected anything. plus it amused him more than anything.

“what did you end up doing on your off day?”

daryl shrugs, “went into the city”

“to see merle?” he nods in response, “he coming home?”

“nah, said he had a couple more things to do out there” his voice is indifferent but your saddened at the thought of him being home alone all the time.

“maybe..” you shift your position and daryl grips one of your legs as you settle back again, “maybe i can come over this weekend.. and stay?” your voice ends softer than it began, a hint of fear at the possibility of rejection.

daryl is taken back at the tone, when has he ever denied you for you to feel scared to ask him anything, let alone offering to keep him company?

he’s moving before he responds, pulling his body over yours as he settles between your legs. one hand rests on your hip and pulls you further down the seat until he is face to face with you, “yeah?”

one of your hands reach up to brush a strand of hair behind his ear, your eyes meet his as you shrug, “if you’ll have me..”

you are unbelievable, daryl thinks. he mumbles mockingly your words as an arm wraps around your lower back to pull you closer to his own body. a small grin spreading on his face as you let out a giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck, your noses bumping together.

‘course he’d have you. today. tonight. tomorrow. forever, if you’ll have him.

“what will ya tell yer dad?” his eyes flick from your eyes, to your lips and back.

you hum, licking your lips before responding, “i’ll figure it out”

daryl knows you will, you always do.

your faces are close, his swaying down to close the gap even more causing your lips to brush. when you lift your head up, his is pulling back; teasing you. you make for the motion again and your lips just barely press together before he is pulling back again and this time, you can’t help but whine and settle your head back against the seat.

you look at him underneath your eyelashes, your bottom lip jutted just a tiny bit more than the top one, not yet a pout but just as sweet looking.

“so pretty when yer desperate” his praise sends shivers down your spine and your eyes are fluttering shut, chest arching to brush against his.

“please..” you whisper when your eyes open, head tilted just a bit as you look up at him.

daryl is only so strong against you, he likes to tease but to ever fully deny you? he could never, especially when you beg and look at him like that, so sweet and ready for the taking.

his lips slot with yours as the kiss begins tender and slow but hot. so so hot. the heat of it making you let out a soft moan and daryl takes full advantage when your mouth drops open. swiping his tongue along yours, the tender moment gone as the kiss becomes sloppier.

he releases his hold around your back and allows his hands to roam your body as his lips stay attached to yours. they slip under the tshirt you wear, fingertips dancing over your sides making you squirm at the ticklish feeling. as his hands slip further up, your shirt does too until you lift up enough for him to slide it completely off, leaving it to fall on the floor of the car.

as you settle back, he admires the lacy white bralette that barely conceals the flesh underneath but it’s pretty, like you, he thinks.

he returns his lips to yours, a hand grazing over the thin fabric, thumb brushing over your nipple that’s already hardened underneath the lace. you push your chest further into his hand, a soft whimper releasing from your throat.

“’ve got ya’” daryls lips brush yours as he reassures you. you took care of him earlier and now, it’s his turn and he fully intends on following through with extra care as always. he trails his lips down your jaw, to your neck and finally your chest.

his teeth graze your collarbones before latching onto your skin, sucking and licking all across the expanse of your chest. some sure to bruise but you don’t care as your hands find purchase in his hair, pressing him into you more.

once satisfied, he trails kisses to the valley of your breasts, sucking another bruise to the area as his hands thumb at your nipples.

“ah..” you thrown your head back with a gasp when he finally places his mouth over your nipple through the fabric of your bralette, his tongue flicking over it, saliva soaking the lace which has you moaning out softly at the sensation.

“hmm.. tha’ feel good?” daryl mumbles around your nipple as he looks up at you from beneath his hair, always a sensitive little thing, he thinks. you bite your bottom lip from crying out more, opting to just nodding your head in response. he hums happily, “jus’ wanna make m’ girl feel good”

“you always d-do.. ah” a moan falls from your mouth as you look down to watch him and his smooth pink lips, he switches to your other breast, giving it the same treatment. your hands grip his hair tighter as his tongue swirls around your taut nipple, the sight making your hips buck against his, desperate for something to ease the throbbing between your legs.

you want to succumb to the pleasure, allow yourself to just let go and feel everything but there’s a thud that sounds like it came from outside the car. your chest pushes against daryls mouth and you fight hard to get your next words out, “w-what was tha’?”

daryl refuses to part from your breast but he does slow his movements, continuing to flick his tongue around your nipple through the spit soaked lace.

“prolly’ jus’ the wind” he finally concludes when he hears nothing but the whistle of the cool air flowing through the crack of the windows. he’s back to skimming his teeth over your sensitive breast, not wanting you to forget any pleasure that was building up from his ministrations. he shifts his body so his thigh presses to your core, allowing you to grind against it to ease the pressure that’s become so overwhelming you felt tears in your eyes at the slightest friction you gain even if there still lies so much fabric between your bodies. you can work with it until he gives you more.

as your hips ground down, daryl pushes his thigh against you and in no time, you’re both finding a rhythm that could finally release the ever building pleasure you’ve had since you gave him head earlier. your mouth opens to let out another moan, head rolling to the side and eyes falling to the back of your head at a particularly hard thrust of his thigh at the same time your own hips bare down. when your eyes flutter open, they’re half lidded in bliss and just as you feel them roll shut again, you swear you’d seen a shadow out the window over daryls shoulder.

you open your mouth to say something but all that comes out is a gasp of daryls name, your mind so utterly blank and helpless to the one person giving you so many good sensations. at the sound of your voice whimpering his name, he doubles down on his actions, wanting to see you succumb to the pleasure.

your eyes can’t help but glance to the window again expecting to see nothing but the night sky- instead you see a face. though the moonlight gives little shine to the surrounding forest of the abandoned train station, it’s enough for you to recognize the features glaring through the window and your heart stops before pounding so hard, you feel like blood might just leak from your ears to relieve the pressure.

daryl leans back when he feels your body tense and still, quick to detect the uneasiness and for a moment he thinks he has done something wrong but when he sees your face, your eyes aren’t on him but behind him, “wha’s wrong?”

you can’t reply though, well you can- could, but you don’t get the chance too before the door of the car is thrown open and daryls body is pulled roughly from yours and out the car.

“daddy!” you scramble for your top, slipping through the door as you pull it down to cover yourself. the moonlight illuminates daryls body that your father has thrown to the dirt road. “daddy, stop!” your father kneels on one knee, one hand gripping the boys tee to lift him to his face, the other pulled back in a fist.

“the hell you think your doin’ with your dirty hands on my little girl, huh?!” your father shakes him, growling the words with utter digust.

you feel a bit helpless to the scene, your eyes glancing to where your mother stands by the yellow volkswagen you nor daryl heard pull up behind you guys. she holds a hand over her heart, her wide eyes shining with tears and you want to say something to her. apologize even, not for being here with daryl, you’d never apologize for that but for making her worry. for having her out here, witnessing this.

“ya’ gonna answer me you prick or am i gon’ have to beat it out of ya?”

“just leave him alone daddy, he didn’t do anything!” you and daryl make eye contact, your eyes beginning to shine with your own tears while his remain clear and relaxed, an attempt to assure you he is okay. it does nothing to ease the pounding of your heart, reaching the point that you genuinely believe you might have a heart attack.

“you shut your month, i’ll deal with you later” your father doesn’t turn around, refusing to look at you.

“don’ talk to her like that” daryls eyes narrow at the man infront of him. your father stares him down expecting him to crumble in defeat to his heated glare but he doesn’t budge, leaving your father to laugh in faux disbelief.

“got some balls on ya’ kid” he pulls daryls face closer, voice low and reeking of alcohol, “you’d watch that mouth of yours.. don’t tell me how to handle what’s mine”

“yeah? gon’ lay your hands on ‘er like ya do her mother?”

and that’s it.. the final straw that has your father growling and pulling his fist back before colliding with daryls face.

“daryl! no!” you gasp and move to grab your fathers arm, attempting to pull him away but he shakes you off roughly, enough to have you stumbling back and falling to the dirt road.

your mother is quick to come to your aid but you brush her off as you get up, heading for the two bodies infront of you again. daryl holds a hand over his cheek as he looks up at your face which crumbles at the sight of blood that drips down from the split wound. you stumble closer wanting to help him but he holds his hand up to stop you before his attention falls back to the man infront of him.

“is that what she’s telling everyone?” your father mocks as he continues to lean over the boys body.

“’s what i know” daryl can sniff out a prick of a dad when he sees one, curtesy to having one himself. you rarely talked about your home life but bits and pieces would slip during your late night conversations. it wasn’t exactly rocket science to put together.

your father lets out another menacing laugh, “it’s what you know..” he drops his head, shoulders shaking with even more quiet mocking laughter before lifting to face daryl again, “if you know anything like she’s knows, it’d seem you both must be dumb as shit. while that fact can be hurtful, there could have been hope to fix it but her being out with you? dumb and slutty? tha’ just about makes her a downright disappointment”

you and your mother release matching gasps. you shake the initial shock off, it should bother you more to hear your father call you such shitty, degrading names but you can’t find yourself to care too much when all you want to do is diffuse the situation. in this moment, all you wanted was to get daryl as far away from your father as you possibly could.

shifting your eyes back to daryl, his chest heaves and for a second, it looks like steam may just be coming from his ears as his eyes stay locked on the older man’s figure.

call him all the names in the world, he could give two shits but calling you anything than what you are-

daryl is pulling himself from your fathers grasp, putting a good distance between them as he steadies on his feet. you watch him take a deep breath, his eyebrows drawing over his eyes as he narrows them.

you know he is gearing up for a fight, you’ve seen it plenty before at school whenever someone pushed his buttons or mouthed off some shitty comment about his family to him.

he stands there, glowering at the other person, still as ever except for the slow rise and fall of his chest. something about it left the other person bothered enough to swing first, allowing for him to finish it without strict punishment as he uses self defense as his reasoning.

“daryl.. don’t” he doesn’t even glance your way, eyes focused on the poor excuse of a man infront of him, mind filled with all the ways he’d put him down.

“now now,” your father pushes himself up, standing to full height, towering over daryls lean teenage figure, “let’s see what he’s got”

“so what? you’re just going to rough him up a bit?” your tone exasperated, “this has nothing to do with him and everything to do with me and you!” your fathers anger is misdirected. the false narrative he came up with vanished the second he saw you and daryl in that black cadalliac but the reality of the situation had him creating new ones instead of facing the facts.

you chose to be here with daryl and his mind couldn’t wrap around that.

the gravel of the dirt road crunches beneath your feet as you take slow steps towards your father. still refusing to look at you, you watch his back tense. shoulders rolling back in an attempt to make himself seem bigger although he has no need too as he continues to tower over the boy infront of him.

“has everything to do with this twat, can’t keep his hands to himself”

“he didn’t do anything i didn’t want him to do” it’s not the right words to say right now but you didn’t even know what you could to stop this.

your fathers’ head drops, a hand coming up to pinch the skin between his nose before shaking his head in disbelief? disgust? “don’t say that shit”

you’re close enough behind him that you can hear him mumbling but it’s hard to keep up with everything that tumbles out except for one thing you don’t even know what you want.

you shake your head at his words although he can’t see you, let alone know if you actually heard. he’s wrong though, you do know what you want. the minute you met daryl, you wanted him to stay but he never did. running off any chance he could to prevent you from getting too close but you waited. patient and sweet as always until one day he did stay, since then he refused to leave your side unless you’d ask him too - which is something you’d never do - and although it’d hurt his heart, he would because he just wants you happy.

more often than not these late night drives were filled with deep conversations, if the urge to feel one another didn’t overtake your mind first. you were teenagers with raging hormones, what did anyone else expect?

you remember one night that daryl actually let his feelings slip; the topic of the future was in the air, you spoke of what you wanted to see yourself doing, a smile on your face. he’s confessed before that he didn’t think about it much, truth be told he’d probably say either dead or in prison but since you came bounding into his life, that reality become less true.

“where do you think you’ll be?” he looks down at his lap where you lay your head across it, you eye him expectantly, always so eager to hear him speak as he did it so rarely.

he faces forward again before shrugging, “i don’ know.. prolly jus’ go wherever you are” he thinks nothing of it as he says it, the truth slipping through his lips easily. he doesn’t know what he plans to do or where but if he had a choice, it’d be with you.

you lift from his lap so suddenly that he is taken back as you turn to face him. his poker face has always been spot on but a lingering of worry reflects in his eyes, thinking just maybe he said the wrong thing. maybe you didn’t see him in your future the way he couldn’t see you without.

you see the moment regret flushes through him as he begins to pull away but you don’t let him get far, grabbing his face with your hands and forcing him to look you in the eyes, “…yeah?”

your gaze is overwhelming so all he can do is press his forehead to yours and nod. never to push or pull when he shows you such vulnerability, you smile and smash your lips to his before leaning back, “‘mkay.. don’t care where we end up, so long as i’m with you too”

it’s the closest thing to a love confession as daryl could give at that time and although it was said in so little context, you understood what he meant, what he felt, what he feels because you felt the same way and still do.

you’re close enough to reach out for your fathers elbow, “daddy.. i love him” your fingers just barely graze his arm before it’s swinging back aggressively, creating contact with your face whipping it to the side. the resounding smack of impact fills the empty train station.

dead silence settles into the air as you reach a hand up to cup the cheek that now throbs in pain and face your father who looks back in shock. your mother is silently crying as she stands powerless to the scene before her. and daryl…

daryl sees red.

your father reaches out to you but the contact is never made when a smaller body is pushing his away. as he staggers, daryl takes full advantage and swings a fist to his face, “ya best keep yer fucking hands off ‘er!”

your father gains his balance back quickly before he’s fighting back, throwing a punch aimed at daryls jaw then another at his eye. he leaves no room for the boy to gain any sense of control, plummeting him into the dirt road all over again.

daryls body falls to the side and you’re screaming for your father to stop, even your mother is crying out his name but both of your pleas fall on deaf ears.

“you think this little twat gives a fuck about you?!” your father asks, kicking his foot into daryls stomach making him release a grunt, “boys like him are only after one thing with girls like you, unfortunately you were dumb enough to fall for his tricks!”

you shake your head, “just stop it! you’re gonna kill him!” tears stream down your face as your father continues to kick and stomp anywhere he sees fit. daryls’ grunts and groans echo throughout the open air along with the nasty muttered words your father continues to spit at him and you.

you and your mother work together to tug at any part of your fathers body your hands can grip. grasping him tightly and pulling him roughly back, his body comes easily before he’s pushing forward again to stomp one last kick to daryls body, just to show you that he’s still in control, allowing you to move him away. he’d keep going if he could but he can’t go to prison and keep you away from that boy at the same time.

your mother continues to pull him away before she’s stumbling back, hands shaking in fear and covering her face in disbelief of everything that’s just happened.

you’ve dropped to your knees, rocks digging into them as you shuffle the short distance to daryls body. your hands hover shakingly, trying to find an exact spot you could hold that might ease the pain.

“o-oh my god daryl.. i’m sorry.. i’m so sorry..” your voice nothing but a whisper as sobs overtake your already trembling body. tears blur your vision but you make no move to wipe them, choosing instead to blink rapidly so you are able to keep an eye on the boy infront of you.

“not yer fault…” he barely gets out as he clutches his stomach, body curling in pain as he takes a shuddering deep breath. you shake your head in response, denying the sentiment before looking down at your lap as you cry because it is. his hand shakingly enters your vision as he reaches out to you, your own immediately latching onto it. he squeezes your fingers to gain your attention and when you finally meet his eyes, he gives you a stern look, “‘s not.”

you lean down to kiss the hand that lays in your grip, mumbling apologies into his skin.

“don’t you touch tha’ boy!”

“can’t you just shut up!” you whip your head around to your father who leans against the volkswagen, “please..” your voice softer as you turn back to daryl. the hand not gripped into his, goes to brush hair out of his face, revealing the damage your fathers fist had done. you feel sick to your stomach.

“it’s time to go, leave him” you shake your head at your fathers voice, “if you don’t get your ass into this car right now, i swear on everything i’ll send you to that boarding school an’ make sure they lock the keys up so you’ll never even get the chance to think about making this dumb mistake again!”

“i’m not leaving him!” you can hear your mother encouraging your father to just get in the car but he shuts her down with a sharp lip.

“you stay here with him, you better stay because if i see you enter a foot into my house..” the threat is left in the air. you make no motion to move as you cling to daryls hand, eyes closing as you release a shuddering breath.

it’s only a few moments later that you hear your father mutter a few curse words before the car door slams shut. the engine rumbling to life, shortly followed by the sound of gravel crunching under the tires as they sped away, leaving natures nightlife to fill the empty space.

daryls hand squeezes yours and your eyes open to meet his, the moon light illuminating the blue of them. you study the many spots of his face that are beginning to bloom a dark color, a small cut goes through his brow, another across his cheekbone and bottom lip. your stomach turns at the sight.

he attempts to sit up, even letting go of your hand to clutch his stomach as he uses the other to lean up on.

“careful..” still having no idea where to lay your hands, you hover them about as he unsteadily sits up. when successful, his gaze falls on you again, truly taking in your state.

he wonders if you even notice how bad your body shakes as the never ending tears slip down your face.

he lifts a hand to cup your wet cheek, thumbing gently over the cut that lies across the top of your cheekbone. his eyes flick to yours in question and you nearly shake your head in disbelief because of course he’d worry more about you even after your father just beat him into the ground.

he grips your chin firmly, forcing you to look him in the eyes. the question still reflecting in them, your hand comes up to lay over his, “‘m okay..”

you are, physically. the cut stings and your cheek throbs but nothing can compare to the stabbing ache in your chest.

he doesn’t seem satisfied with the answer but doesn’t bother pushing, he can tell you have no energy to fight him on it. instead he leans his forehead heavily against your own.

both of you sit there, basking in the sounds of nature around you and the empty railroad. your occasional sniffles and daryls soft hushes accompany the worlds natural sounds. you imagine you guys look pretty ridiculous but you can’t find it in you to care.

••

“ow!”

“stop it” you roll your eyes, the cotton ball you hold between your fingers hadn’t even touched his eyebrow yet when he jerks his head away playfully.

he sits on the closed toilet seat as you stand between his legs. his hands gently rest on the back of your thighs as you tend to his physical wounds the best you could after you made sure he popped a couple painkillers for his aching body.

“if ya keep frowning like tha’, yer pretty face is gonn’ get stuck” daryls been trying to make you laugh since you’ve left the abandoned train station and drove to his home. you barely spoke in the car, mind constantly wandering elsewhere and eventually he gave up trying to keep any conversation going.

you focus on cleaning up what areas of damage you could on his skin as you mentally feared what lay underneath his tshirt, it looked like your father did not hold back when he laid those kicks against him. you shiver as you remember the scene again, daryls grunts of pains still echoing in your ears.

his hands rise to hold your hips instead, shaking your figure lightly until he gains your attention, “hey… we’re okay”

“why do you do that?” you sigh in frustration, hands dropping to your sides.

“do what?”

“disregard your pain like that.. daryl, we should go to the hospital to get you checked out” he shakes his head, it’s not the first time you suggested to go. it was actually the first place you thought of when you got behind the wheel of the black cadalliac but he talked you out of it. you’re regretting it now, he could have serious internal injuries.

“‘m okay” you’re not convinced, “promise belle.”

you wanna press more, somehow convince him to go but instead you go back to wiping his face and disinfecting his open cuts. with the dirt cleaned up and better lighting, you’re able to see his injuries more clearly. the cuts aren’t deep, rather it seems that the bruising will get the better of his handsome face but nothing as threatening as what he keeps hidden, you imagine.

sighing again, you throw the cotton ball into the trash, “can i check on your stomach now?”

daryl shakes his head, “‘m good, told ya’.. have had worse, let me check on ya” he stands up, hands still holding your hips as he switches positions. his face screws up in a slight wince as he does but drops it once you have settled onto the closed toilet lid.

the cut on your cheek is small, similar to the one he has. in different circumstances, you’d probably make a joke about the matching wounds but your mind is struggling to keep up with anything solid so it passes as every other thought you have. silence fills the air between you two, you lost in your own thoughts and daryl wondering where your mind is.

“he’s never hit me before..” your voice is a soft but the emotion it holds is enough to have daryls hand stilling before he goes back to dabbing an alcohol soaked cotton ball at your injury. it’s really nothing.. something small that will be swollen for a couple days then be gone, leaving a faded scar behind but that too will disappear with time. “maybe.. i-i don’t think he meant too..”

you’re a bit stunned still. the first time you saw him raise his hands at your mother, you were five. you remember trying to push him away, squirming in his hands as they gripped your small arms tightly against the sides of your body, holding you in front of him as he spoke, sometimes women need to be put back into their place. it made sense to your five year old self back then when you had no idea what being in love was like. as you got older, the reality of it became more apparent. he never did it infront of you again after you caught him slapping her when your mother accidentally broke a dish.

at the age of thirteen, you had rushed at him. pushing him away as you once did when you were smaller. fear covered your body but you stood strong infront of your father. maybe he knew he couldn’t manipulate your mind anymore, instead choosing to walk away and never speak on the subject again. since then, you’d never seen it happen but the evidence was there. the random new bruises or scratches that would appear on your mother became more obvious than ever.

confronting her was impossible. she chose to lie, claiming she bumped into something, oh you know me, clumsy as can be. it was bullshit and when you told her so, she sent you to your room with your so called foul mouth.

so you lived with it. you had too. where else would you go? you never saw or heard it so maybe that was the price to be paid for your innocence?

“prick shouldn’t hav’ to put his hands on anyone for anythin’.. meant to or not, he still hurt you” daryls voice is rough, a ring of anger still lingering in his words.

humming in acknowledgment, you close your eyes as your head tilts up in daryls hands, allowing him to care for you in the only way he does. always so soft and gentle.. just how you should always been handled, he thinks.

your eyes stay closed even as he releases you and shuffles about. his hands cup your face, thumb tracing around the wound tenderly before he leans down and presses a kiss near it.

the corner of your mouth quirks up at the small gesture, not yet a smile but something. you hum again before opening your eyes, blinking to adjust to the light again. daryls eyes linger over your face, leaving not an inch uncovered from his gaze, sometimes he thinks you aren’t real. some perfect figment of his imagination he conjured up to keep him company when he got lonely.

“c’mon” daryl holds a hand out, yours falling easily into his as he leads you to his bedroom. the warmth emitting from your body behind him is enough for him to believe you are infact real and willingly choosing be here with him.. it’s something he will never be able to wrap his head around.

he maneuvers around his room as you sit on the edge of the bed. he lays a shirt next to you but you make no move to put it on. your head hangs down so he can’t see the pitiful face you make, “hey.. hey, wha’s wrong?” he sits next to you, his arms reaching out to pull your body close but you push him away.

“will you stop that?” your voice is watery, “how.. how could you sit here with me after what just happened?”

daryls really fucking confused. he fish mouths for a bit, trying to find the words to say to calm your sudden emotional outburst.

“my father could have killed you..” you shake your head, “i stood there and did nothing..” a sob escapes your mouth, “after everything.. we’re here and you’re trying to take care of me when you can barely walk..” you heave deeply, “it never should have happened.. it’s my fault, daryl.. i’m so sorry”

daryl feels a bit tossed around at how you got here but there is one thing he knows for sure, “this ain’t yer fault” his tone is stern, “what yer father did.. tha’s on him, not you, got it?”

your shoulders shake as tears fall from your eyes, your head turning into your shoulder as you refuse to look at daryl. the act is childish but you can’t help it as you feel so small, so upset, so…. dumb for thinking that you could keep this hidden. that one day you would just up and leave with daryl without a trace. a stupid pipe dream, that’s all you had for your future.

“ya’ not getting it. listen to me.” daryl huffs, chewing on his lips roughly as he considers his next words before gripping your chin to face him, “… i love you” you let out a soft gasp but he continues, “i’d take as many beatings as it took to keep doing so”

“i wouldn’t ask of that from you” you lean your forehead against his, aching heart warm at his words. ones you never thought you’d hear before.

“don’ matter.. would do it all over again if it meant saving you from being hurt” his thumb brushes over the wound you suffer, his own stomach clenching at not being able to stop your father before letting it happen.

you notice the slight grimace on his face, the hurt he holds at the smallest fact that you were hurting. he is unreal, you think.

“i love you too, ya know that?” that familar glint is back in your eyes as you gaze into his. daryl is transfixed at the confirmation and all he can do is nod numbly, because.. he knows. maybe he has always known but his use of denial was always stronger. in this moment though, it’s powerless to the way you look at him and not a single doubt that you feel the same way towards him- fill him.

you chose to stay with him after your fathers threat, you cleaned him up, you worried about him.. how could he think any different when you have showed him in every way you could tonight and every other moment you had together? deserving of your love? that’s a different story but right now, daryl would rather bask in the love you have for one another than worry about such things.

you press a kiss to his lips, one full of your emotions towards him but it doesn’t go further than that, both of you exhausted and still hurting. your bodies separate to change as you grab the shirt daryl laid out for you, stripping down and slipping into it. it’s soft, hangs just below your butt and smells so much like him- earthly with a hint of nicotine.

you’re quicker at changing compared to daryl who stands a few feet away, wincing as he bends over to remove his jeans. he jumps when he feels your hands graze his, he didn’t even hear you sneak up on him. when your eyes meet, a quick shared conversation between them, he lets his hands go and allows yours to take their place. you help slide his jeans down and he kicks the rest off as you rise back up.

your fingers fiddle with the end of his shirt before you begin lifting it. when it’s fully off, you hold his gaze, afraid to look down but soon your eyes betray you as they fall to his midsection. massive red and purple bruises scatter across his stomach, going as high as his ribs and trailing as low as his hips.

“god… daryl” your fingers barely graze the bruises, in fear of hurting him more as they look so painful.

“told ya ’m fine..”

“it doesn’t look fine, you’re clearly in pain”

“i’ve had worse.. can we jus’ rest? jus’ wanna lay down with ya.. please” his voice is tired but soft and when he asks like that, how could you refuse?

he slips into bed first with the help of you before he scoots back and holds an arm out. you shuffle to turn the lights off before crawling in, facing him as you lie down. it’s silent as you study each others faces with the only light coming from the moon through the open window.

“so pretty..” the glow of the moonlight is just enough for you catch the pink that spreads on daryls cheeks after he lets his inner thoughts slip. you shake your head, a smile finally slipping onto your lips.

“you’re ridiculous” daryl just hums, the corner of his mouth quirking up. his hand cups your jaw, thumb tracing the grin upon your lips and you can’t help but let out a small giggle at the ticklish feeling. a certain playfulness in his touch that has you quirking an eyebrow in question, “thought you wanted to rest..”

daryl lets out a soft scoffed laugh, his fingers playfully pinching your nose, “alrigh’ smart ass”

you turn your head to the hand on your face, kissing his palm, “i love you..”

daryl hums, leaning in so he can kiss your forehead, then your nose, and then a bruising one full of love onto your lips. i love you too. your bodies shuffle about the bed until your back is pressed to daryls naked chest, him closing the distance you had originally set in fear of hurting him but he simply wrapped an arm around you and pulled you back until your bodies laid flushed together. a breath of relief released from you at the contact.

“ya gonn’ go home?” daryl questions quietly.

you shrug, “maybe.. eventually i’ll have to, right?”

it’s silent for a bit, “could jus’ shack it up in ‘ere with me”

you let out a small laugh, daryl hiding his own amusement into your neck.

“we’ll figure it out, yeah? me and you?” your voice is unsure, something you have never been about when it came to you and him but the unknown of what’s next terrifies you as you lay there in the silence.

daryl squeezes your body, pressing a reassuring kiss to the back of your shoulder, “we’ll figure ‘t out.. now go to sleep.”

the reality is you’ll have to go back, you know that. daryl too. you both were only in highschool, graduation just a couple months out.. you weren’t sure what the plan was after but as you lay wrapped in daryls arms, it didn’t matter so long as you had him by your side.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #twd fic #daryl dixon fic #daryl dixon x female reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon imagine #rite4fun #romantic #non-apocalyptic

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tickle-bugs · 9 months

Note

Hi! I had this super cute Korra idea and was wondering if you could write a fic for it. So like basically she and Bolin are earthending training, and he beats her and is like super gloaty about it, so she gets him back by encasing him in rock and well y’know…tickling him lol. I’d also love if you could throw in a raspberry or two!

Rock and Roll

Summary: After traveling the Spirit World, Korra returns home to the Air Temple. Familiar grounds beget familiar habits and she soon finds herself returning to her favorite hobby: pro-bending. Well...semi-pro, anyway.

Spoilers for the end of The Legend of Korra and the comics that follow the end of the series!

Korra’s reunion with Air Temple Island brought her a peace she hadn’t known she needed. Traveling with Asami had given her time to quell the one remaining tempest in her brain, the one that wrestled with the mint newness of her sexuality. It meant that when they finally arrived at the temple doors, Korra had only her friends on her mind.

“Do you think everyone looks different?” Korra whispers to Asami, linking their fingers together. They step into the main courtyard. Korra breathes in deep. Still smells like home.

“No. But I think you should go check, just to be sure.” Asami kisses her on the cheek, taking Korra’s bag off her back. “I’ll get our room together.”

“I love you.” Korra squeezes her hand. Asami beams.

“Love you too.” She hefts Korra’s bag easily, having grown stronger during their travels, and wanders off towards the temple interior. Korra’s so occupied with watching her go, she doesn’t even notice Bolin and Mako stepping into the courtyard.

“Korra!” Mako shouts with a laugh. Bolin gasps himself into a coughing fit, gesturing wildly. Korra sprints towards them and scoops them clean off the ground, cracking something in both of their spines with the force of the hug.

“I told Mako something cool was going to happen today! I could feel it.” Bolin punches Mako’s shoulder and he grunts.

“It’s good to see you guys. I missed you.” Korra tilts their foreheads together, tossing her arms around their shoulders.

“Are you hungry? Mako was just about to make lunch.”

“Was I?” Mako deadpans. Bolin employs his absolutely lethal puppy dog eyes. Pabu scrambles atop his head to assist. Mako sighs deeply and waves for them to follow him.

…

Tenzin had been gracious enough to round up his family, promising every whining child and adult that they’d have a meal with Korra another time. Though Ikki and Meelo’s begging tugged on her heartstrings, she had the rare comfort of knowing they weren’t going anywhere. She could take a moment to relax with her friends without sacrifice.

“Tell me everything. What did I miss?” Korra drums her hands on the table. Bolin stares very pointedly at Mako, who starts to hem and haw. He eats a dumpling instead of answering.

“Mako started training with Fire Lord Zuko.” Bolin nudges him with his shoulder. Mako sighs.

“You what?” Korra leans forward. Bolin does the same, batting his eyelashes at his brother. Mako glares at him.

“That’s incredible, Mako. He seems like he’d be a great mentor.” Asami plucks a dumpling from the steamer basket.

“He is. He’s seen and done so much! It’s incredible.” Mako gestures a little wildly, starry-eyed, and Korra chuckles.

“Well, so have you.” Asami smiles. He turns a little pink and ducks his head.

“You’re such a nerd. That’s what you were all nervous about?” Korra narrows her eyes teasingly, taking a dumpling. Mako scoffs and steals it from her hand. Before she can fight to get it back, he takes a triumphant bite and leans back in his chair. She loosely considers vaulting over the table, but she decides to save Pema the headache.

“No, he thought I was gonna tell you that he’s totally got a crush on Princess Ursa.” Bolin stretches innocently.

The room erupts into shouting. Mako busies himself with strangling Bolin while Asami and Korra pepper him with questions. Bolin paws at Mako’s face and chokes out a protest. Asami manages to pull them apart.

“I don’t have a crush on her! She’s a smart, capable tactician…with pretty eyes…and nice hair…oh god.” Mako drops his head into his hands. Bolin pats his shoulder.

The conversation flows from Mako’s love life--hopeless--to events in Republic City. Spirits don’t have a fantastic grasp on human affairs, but they seem confident in Zhu Li taking the Presidential helm, which is nice. As they chat, the stack of empty bowls in the sink grows more and more precarious.

“Okay, what else…oh! We made another mover.” Bolin feeds small vegetable pieces to Pabu, who perches comfortably on his head.

“What? Why?” Korra frowns.

“Now that Varrick’s First Gentleman, he’s picking up a lot of his old hobbies. He told me he was struck with urgent inspiration to make his magnum opus.” Bolin gestures excitedly.

“Beifong’s tired of babysitting him, so he’s on informal house arrest,” Mako snorts, leaning towards Korra. She snickers.

“What’s the story?” Asami pinches Korra’s knee so she stops laughing—counterproductive, as it just forces her to stifle a yelp.

“Nuktuk has laid down his arms as the hero of the south and taken up…wait for it…pro-bending coaching! He invents it! Turns out, his dad was one of the best benders in the world and Nuktuk wants to preserve the legacy!” Bolin gestures even bigger. Pabu nearly slides off of his head as he moves around.

“Wait…isn’t that the plot of The Pebble’s new mover? The one about The Boulder?” Asami collects the empty bowls from the table and dumps them in the sink. As she comes back, she kisses Korra’s forehead.

“Uh, noooooo. The Pebble’s grandfather was the pro-bender. For Nuktuk, it’s his dad. Totally different.” Bolin nods resolutely. Asami opens her mouth to argue, but Korra pinches her knee. Asami glares. Korra gives a shit-eating grin.

“Right, sure. You two up for a friendly match, now that you’re a double pro-bender?” Korra leans on Mako’s shoulder.

“Oooh a Fire Ferret reunion? Count me in!” Bolin gasps excitedly.

“Count me out.” Mako stands and stretches.

“Aw c’mon, Mako! Where’s your competitive spirit?” Korra socks him in the arm. He returns the favor.

“Knock yourselves out.” He laughs fondly, ruffling Bolin’s hair as he passes.

“Guess it’s you and me then. Nuktuk, Hero of the Arena, versus…the Avatar.” Bolin makes a noise like a crowd cheering.

….

“Come on, Bolin! Put your back into it!” Korra throws a boulder at his head. He pulls his hands apart and the rock shatters, submerging into the earth.

“Taunting me isn’t gonna work. While you and Asami were out frolicking, Tenzin and Jinora showed me the path to inner peace. I’m totally chill now.” Bolin butchers a few Air Nomad forms and then nods, satisfied.

“Is that right?”

“Yep. I’m super zen.” Bolin closes his eyes and takes a meditative stance. Korra throws another rock at his head. He yelps and deflects at the last moment, scattering it to dust.

“Would you stop doing that?!”

“Are you going to fight me?” She puts her hand on her hip.

“Alright, you asked for it. No holding back.” He smirks.

As she flips out of the way of a chunk of earth the size of a Satomobile, she’s quickly reminded why he was a pro long before she ever met him. She’s used to earthbenders with squat techniques. Bolin is fast. He moves earth like water, adapting quickly to shifts in gravity without breaking a sweat.

She takes a rock to the torso and goes flying, skidding to a stop on her back. She narrows her eyes at him, flips back on her feet, and resumes her stance.

“Oh yeah, I’ve still got it.” He flexes.

“Whatever. Lucky shot.” Korra rolls her eyes. Bolin continues to flex, striking new and irritating poses. Pabu scampers out onto his bicep and copies him. Bolin turns unexpectedly and Pabu squeaks, scampering back to the solid ground of his shoulder. The poor thing slips and tumbles right into Bolin’s shirt with a terrified shriek.

Bolin makes the exact same noise, followed by a string of frantic, high-pitched giggles and shouts. Pabu skitters around his waist and Bolin tries to grab him. Korra muffles her laughter into her hands.

“P-Pabu!” Bolin squeaks, finally wrangling the fire ferret into his grasp. He starts sternly lecturing Pabu, but Korra’s long past listening. She’s too busy sowing the seeds of a plan.

“Let’s go again.” Korra grins.

“Best of five? Let’s do it.”

Korra and Bolin circle each other, locked in tense concentration. Korra moves first, launching stone after stone to where she thinks Bolin will be, rather than where he is. She breathes with each shove, doing her best to root her body to the earth.

To Bolin’s credit, he easily manages her aggressive assault. He complains about it, sure, but he deflects or redirects every blow before it can break his stance. He splits a large boulder and pelts her with the pieces. She slides and flips out of the way, curving with the air rather than through it. Even though Bolin strikes her from beneath with a stone, Korra still manages to bend a bucket’s worth of water directly into his chest.

Korra clenches her fist and the water flash-freezes. As it crackles into a solid up his body, Bolin stammers up a protest and wiggles fruitlessly against the ice. He strains every which way, the muscles in his neck tensing, but he doesn’t budge.

“‘Kay, so this definitely isn’t competition-legal. How about you let me go and we call it even?” Bolin blows his curl out of his face.

“Mmm, nah. Best of five, remember?” Korra smirks, cracking her knuckles. She makes a big show of stretching.

“I can’t fight you in ice. Ohhh, you’ve got a real scary face right now. Like…like Eska levels of scary—“

Korra bends away a chunk of the ice, leaving a perfect window for Bolin’s stomach. She pinches him there and he giggles once, sweetly. They blink at each other. Korra breaks out in a smirk. He starts to babble, shaking his head fervently, but he collapses into nervous snickers and incoherence when she gets closer.

“Tickling is cheating, c’mon--KorraKorraKorraaaah!” He squeals, bubbly giggles pouring forth faster than he can hope to speak. He wiggles as much as he can—not at all—and tries to suck in his stomach away from her fingers. She follows easily, poke-poke-poking at the softer parts of his stomach to make him jump.

“This isn’t even a fair f-fight!” Bolin whines, shimmying like his life depends on it.

“It’s not fun if it’s fair.” Korra shrugs. She bends away some ice from his ribs and plucks her fingers across them. His giggles somehow find more urgency, making his whole torso tremble. His voice rises in time with her fingers, cracking beautifully when she decides to tickle under his arms. He lets out a tumble of desperate syllables and hiccups.

“Ohmygod, move!” He snorts, oh wow, and keeps trying to escape. He attempts wide, pleading eyes but his nose keeps scrunching and preventing his progress.

“Move, huh? Not stop?” Korra raises her eyebrow. Bolin buries his face in his shoulder.

“Alright, tell you what. Surrender your victory and maybe I’ll let you go.” Korra tickles mockingly under his chin and Bolin snorts again, slamming his chin down. She spiders across the skin she can reach, avoiding his scrunching. She brushes his ear by mistake.

Bolin’s voice leaps at least two octaves. He wrenches so hard that he actually cracks some of the ice around his shoulders. Korra grins like a demon. Bolin’s eyes widen.

“I’m so telling Opal.” She snickers.

“Don’t you dare!” His cheeks and ears burn bright red. She chases the blush with her fingers. Bolin cackles, whipping his head back and forth to no avail. She pokes at his collarbones and he yelps, hiking his shoulders as far up as he can.

The ice crunches, then crumbles. Bolin stumbles forward, clutching his torso through the tail-end of his laughter. Korra backs up and starts awkwardly chuckling with something like remorse.

“Hey, Korra?” Bolin narrows his eyes, deathly serious. “Run.”

“Threatening the Avatar?” She jokes weakly.

Bolin sprints at her like a train as a reply.

She yelps and takes off, bending air to launch herself onto the temple roof. Bolin uses earth to follow suit, his serious demeanor melting into the giggly little ‘I’m gonna get youuus’ that one would expect from someone like him.

She misses her jump onto the next roof and Bolin catches her by the waist. Her loss of balance translates to him, unfortunately, and they both crash to the ground. Bolin pulls her close and rolls to break the fall, but he doesn’t release her from the bear hug. He giggles evilly in her ear.

Oh shit.

“Bolin, hang on—“

“Gotcha.” He grins, vibrating his fingers into her stomach. “Now, time to defend that championship title.”

Korra squeals loud enough to send birds and spirits flying from the temple trees.

#my fics #i love them your honor #their friendship is everything to me ugh #lok #ticklish!bolin #bolin #korra #korrasami #mako #apparently mako was supposed to end up w fire lord izumi's daughter but they scrapped it...i took that personally #forfeited the raspberries bc im not comfy writing them in a non-romantic context sorry

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