Tumgik
#twd imagines blog
ladywuvly · 2 months
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♱ long before (s2!daryl dixon x green!f!reader)
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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;
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masterlist. socials. rec.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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..."
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© ladywuvly please do not steal, copy, or translate any of my work onto other platforms!
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grimesgirll · 2 months
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you jumped at the chance to babysit for rick grimes.
your mom didn’t have to repeat herself when she instructed you to arrive at rick’s early the next morning to give him some help with his baby girl.
not that you minded, but you babysitting for rick was a part of your mother’s larger plan to welcome the new arrivals into the community. it was an easy way for the survivors - namely their leader, rick - to warm up to everyone. and you had to put your half finished developmental psychology degree to use somehow.
you’re disappointed when you show up bright eyed and bushy tailed to be greeted by rick’s son carl, and not the dreamy sheriff himself.
carl is more than happy to pass off the bubbly little baby - who you learn is named judith- to you and dash out the door after giving you the rundown on her routine and lack thereof.
it doesn’t take long for judith to get used to you - or get into the habit of pulling your long hair. carl mentioned that she’d had a solid breakfast already this morning so you hunker down next to her playmat to tire her out in preparation for her next nap.
thoughts drift from tummy time to the absent head of the house. where was he? you knew part of the reason you had even begun babysitting was to help rick with childcare if he accepted his new position as constable, but you couldn’t think of anywhere else he would be.
and truth be told, you’re disappointed.
the first day the southerners had arrived, you looked on as rick stepped through the gates, judith in his arms. you’d been shocked to see a baby but you were even more enthralled by the hot suburban dad who’d landed on your doorstep.
not as old as your own father but nearly old enough to be, rick grimes had been blessed by age. his wild, grown out hair and tense but demanding disposition immediately attracted your attention.
it’s wrong; you shouldn’t be crushing on the man you’re babysitting for.
but you’ve been so bored!
let’s be clear: alexandria is your home. the safe zone provided more stability than the road could ever offer but survival was boring. at least inside of alexandria.
but out there?
whatever was out there was written all over the face of every new survivor your community had taken in. you’d heard bits and pieces; cannibals, maniacs on a power trip, robbers, corrupt cops even in the end of times.
and you could really see it on rick.
he had the demeanor of someone always scanning the room for the exit. you’ve never seen him so much as smile so it’s hard to imagine anyone like him adjusting or relaxing, even somewhere like alexandria.
your mother had theorized that some childcare could help ease the ex-cop’s anxieties, give him and carl a chance to breathe.
someone like that needs a lot more than a day away from the kids though. rick grimes needed an all inclusive vacation
and maybe a blowjob.
you tear yourself away from your wild thoughts about the rugged leader to turn your attention to the little girl hitting you with all of the sleepy cues at once. glancing at the clock, you decide it’s time for a nap and scoop up the eight month old. it’s not until you try to lay her down in the nursery that judith gives you your first problem.
seems like you had a velcro baby on your hands.
your hypothesis is proven correct during little judith’s second afternoon nap when you’re resigned to the living room armchair.
any attempts to place the little girl on her back, stomach, or side were met with tears. you’d just huffed and posted up on the rocking chair, ready to rock her for the duration of her nap.
it could be a pain but some babies just slept better hearing another heartbeat besides their own. it’s biology. judith is long out of the fourth trimester but that doesn’t exempt her from wanting to fall asleep in a pair of warm, snuggly arms. and besides, it’s not like you have anything better to do.
so you’re still curled up with judith when her father arrives in the afternoon.
gun holstered on his hip, the front door swings open to reveal rick grimes, looking much more like a resident of alexandria than he'd arrived. despite his new haircut and the difference that a shower makes, rick still looks pent up to you. like the feral man who'd shown up at your gates was just bubbling under the surface.
“hey there,” he greets once he registers your presence.
in his constable uniform, rick is even more handsome than you imagined all cleaned up. his chestnut curls are trimmed - courtesy of your neighbor, jessie - and he’s fully fitted like an officer of the law, and not an outlaw.
"oh, hi," you sit up and offer as much of a salutation you can being nap trapped.
"you must be deanna's daughter."
"that's me," you chirp, keeping your voice low to avoid waking up the little girl on your lap. "sorry, you caught us during naptime."
the southerner shakes his head. "no problem. looks like you got her down easy enough."
easy? you want to ask him to repeat that again but you just smile.
"i'm sorry i wasn't here earlier to introduce myself, i'm rick." the man extends his hand to you and you have to steel your nerves so he doesn't feel your hand shaking.
you're shocked when you hear confidence dripping from your voice as you give him your name. under his dark blue gaze, you want to squirm but you're holding it together somehow.
"you know, you can probably get out here early today. carl should be home soon."
you do your best to hide your disappointment. "leaving early on the first day?" you grin. "i think i like this job."
that earns you a chuckle from the sheriff who points to the sleeping baby you're holding. "i've got it from here if you wanna head out."
you don't but you put on your pearly whites and utter a peppy "sure!" handing over the still sleeping judith to her father.
"thanks for agreeing to this," rick commends you, eyes looking over the picture books and learning materials piled up in your arms. "i really appreciate having someone here to look after judith during the day."
“don’t worry about it, she’s such an angel, rick.”
"yeah, she is," he agrees, pausing to glimpse down at the napping infant. "i guess we'll be seein' you tomorrow?"
“whenever you need me.”
as his gaze follows you out the front door, rick is hard pressed to confirm if that was actual innuendo that came out of your mouth or just a generous offer.
he’s even more surprised to see you on his doorstep again after supper.
“hey,” you start. “i think i forgot one of my books here when i was watching judith. do you mind if i grab it?"
your burnt orange journal is right where you'd left it - intentionally - on the accent table in the upstairs hallway.
"oh, perfect! it's right here," you exhale in manufactured relief as if you hadn't left it there a few hours ago just for this purpose.
"is she down?" you ask rick in your best quiet voice.
he nods his hickory head of hair. "wanna see her?"
you nod enthusiastically and he leads you a few doors down the hall where you two pop your heads into a dark, curtain drawn room.
“how’s she been sleeping?” you ask innocently, following the father’s gaze to the sleeping infant lying peacefully in her crib.
“good enough,” he grunts. “all things considered.”
“how have you been sleeping?”
a chocolate eyebrow raises.
“you know, you have to get some sleep too.”
“isn’t that you’re for?”
rick must notice your reaction from the way he clears his throat and walks back his words, clarifying, “taking care of judith and all so i can,” he makes air quotes with his fingers, “rest.”
breathing deeply in an attempt to calm your racing heartbeat, you offer a smile with your exhale. “yeah, but that’s only during the daytime. she still has two wakeups at night, right?”
the man leaning in the doorway beside you shrugs. “two or three, give or take.”
“that’s a lot of time to be waking up at night.”
his ocean blue eyes twinkle as he shoots you a look and crosses his arms. “tell me about it.”
you motion towards the crib. “so i know judith likes to be held for naps, but have you ever tried room sharing with her? or even sleeping with her in the bed?”
rick gives you a quizzical look. “i thought you weren’t supposed to let them sleep in bed with you.”
“only if you’re a heavy sleeper,” you discern. “or if you drink or you’re a smoker.”
“really?”
you nod. “it’s called the safe sleep seven. its a big thing in other parts of the world." you draw an awkward breath. "not that there's anything wrong with watching her from the monitor," you refer to the device in his back pocket.
"well," rick runs a hand through his dark waves, stopping awkwardly at the end like he forgot about his haircut. "judith's always been held so it wouldn't shock me that that's how she likes to go sleep."
"did you have to snuggle her to sleep to get her down tonight?" your honeyed voice inquires curiously.
"i held her." he answers with a sigh.
"it makes sense. humans are programmed to want to be close to each other."
a silence settles over the two of you before rick clears his throat. "yeah, maybe i'll have to look into this sleep safe seven."
"i can bring a book next time i'm over," you offer. "i was a developmental psych major in college."
"so you have a degree to babysit?"
you roll your eyes. "i was supposed to end up doing research. you know," you gesture to judith in her nursery. "working with younger kids like her and figuring out what works best for them for sleep, learning to eat, the potty, play, school, all that."
"sounds like you're pretty smart," the ex-cop concludes.
you shrug. "smart enough."
with that, you two are walking down the stairs and you're heading towards the door when rick asks you if you'd like anything to drink.
you stop in your tracks, turning around on one heel. "you know, i'm kinda thirsty. i'll actually take a water."
rick's hands around the cold glass must be tattooed in your mind from how intently you're watching him. you thank him for the glass and gingerly take a sip, taking a moment to notice how his hands are braced against the counter. a cacophony of cracks erupt when the man rotates his neck and you can't help but laugh.
the older man frowns. “what’s so funny?”
“did you not hear the way your neck cracked?”
he shrugs it off. “gotta do it sometimes.”
“not like that,” you insist, glancing at his hands again, you get an idea. “why don’t you let me show you how you’re supposed to crack that?”
rick gives you a sideways glance.
“my roommate was in school to be a masseuse.”
“you don’t have to do that.” he says quickly.
you shake your head at him. “it’s not a problem. you can give me pointers.”
it’s wrong; rick shouldn’t be face down on the sofa in the house your mother had given him, getting a massage from her young twentysomething daughter.
and he most definitely shouldn’t be trying to hide an erection.
never would he have imagined getting a massage from a college student a week ago. like the haircut, rick wants to accept your community’s gifts with tact but that’s hard to do when your hands are kneading lower and lower down his back.
“when was the last time you relaxed, rick?”
the question comes out of nowhere and he almost wishes judith would pop up on the baby monitor to spare him from answering.
“can’t tell ya’.” he replied honestly.
you hum in response, observing as he twitches under your mischievous ministrations. rick didn’t have to go to massage therapy school to know that this massage is nowhere near professional. it’s downright racy as your fingers skim the top of his lower back.
god, he has a nice ass for a dad, you muse. you wonder what he’d look like fully nude on this sofa and if you weren’t touching him through his undershirt.
“that’s a little low.” the new constable remarks, calling you out.
you giggle. “i don’t know. i think the muscles down here really need some attention.”
rick hisses when you venture past his lower back and squeeze. he wants to say something but it feels so fucking good to have the tension manually worked out of his muscles.
“flip over.”
rick is about to bust out of his pants.
“flip over, please.”
the brunette finally complies; he wants to be embarrassed but doesn’t have a second for the emotion because you’re falling to your knees in front of him, pointing.
“want me to help you with that?”
“what?” he sputters.
“please, let me.”
wow, you want him. and who is he to deny you? not with how much of a roller coaster the past few have been; he should at least get to decompress.
“go ahead-,” rick doesn’t get another word out of his mouth before you’ve fully yanked his pants down and scootch further between his legs, attaching a hand to his waist. you slide his briefs down and are almost smacked in the face by the eight inch cock in front of you.
“rick…”
“if it’s too big, i understand.”
he starts to say something else but can only manage a gasp once you swallow the first few inches of his cock in your mouth. you ease your way back up to alternate between gripping his length and lapping at his precum covered head.
god, he can’t let deanna find out.
or spencer for that matter. no need to give your brother another reason for rick to be on his bad side.
he can’t be bothered to think about your family when you’re on your knees with his dick in your mouth.
“you’re doin’ so good for me, honey,” rick praises.
you moan deeply around his cock as you fit him further down your throat. it doesn’t take long for his hands to find your hair and suddenly his thick length is sliding down. you just swallow around him the best you can. you wonder if he’d believe you if you said you’d never had a dick this far down your throat.
it’s only once your windpipe starts to feel rick’s size that you raise your mouth up and off of the man in front of, catching a shallow few breaths before diving right back down to envelope him in your mouth.
rick can’t get enough of this. a hot, more than willing knockout of a woman on her knees with nothing but relieving his stress on her mind. and nothing was a hotter than a girl who actually wanted to give a blowjob, and by the way you’re hollowing your cheeks and pumping what doesn’t fit down your throat, he knows you’re loving this. a good girl like you deserves more than just his dick in her mouth.
“slow down, sweetheart.” he instructs, even though it takes a moment for you to slow the vigorous pace you’d committed to. “i wanna help you out too.”
your eyes widen with delight and he doesn’t have to tell you twice to come up on the sofa with him. instantly, rick is in between your legs and undoing the button of your jeans in order to pull them down to your ankles.
his thick cock jumps at the sight of your sopping panties.
blushing, you lift your hips as rick clutches and discards the undergarment on the floor. that’s when he gets the opportunity to take in your already soaked little hole. he can’t help himself from slipping a finger in and driving it deeper at the sound of your raspy squeaks. the same noise comes out of you once he gives you another. you must’ve wanted this for a while from the way you coat his fingers. you’re wiggling and rotating your hips like they’re on fire and he only has two digits inside of you.
“easy, girl,” he warns and you pout as you struggle not to buck your hips.
“i need you, rick,” you gasp. “feel you in my core. i’m so hot for you right now.”
you so are. rick thinks and adds another finger.
not only are you making his dick swell more than he thought it could but your insides are hot. that tight little core is choking his three fingers like a boa constrictor.
“i’m gonna come on your fingers,” you make him aware, hoping he’ll move you to his cock.
“go right ahead, sweetheart.”
so you do.
you let out a muffled sob into his shoulder. he doesn’t stop scissoring his fingers into you until he removes them from your reluctant cunt. your mouth opens automatically when he lifts his sticky digits to your mouth. enthusiastically, you let him slip them into your mouth and suck until they come out clean.
you can barely respond to the “good girl,” he’s whispering huskily into your ear because your lips are pressed to his. disregarding the fact that your pussy is dripping all over the new sofa, you fold into the kiss.
where have you been? you wonder while his tongue starts to pick a fight with yours. the fact that you’re suddenly in his lap doesn’t register until you feel his hand on the small of your back.
“you’re up,” he whispers in your ear before shifting you on top of him.
you only understand what he means when you suddenly feel like you’re being torn in half. “fuck,” you exhale, conscious not to be too loud as to wake up the baby upstairs.
from his rapid breaths into your bust, you can tell that’s holding back.
“rick,” you whine.
fingertips find your hips just as your arms wrap around his neck and you’re holding on for dear life as the constable starts lifting and lowering you on his cock.
“god,” you cry through gritted teeth.
rick is fucking you just like you thought he would.
he doesn’t wait for you to roll your hips or ride him, no, he just fucks you. yeah, you’re on top but rick is the one pounding into you from below. you feel every ridge and vein on his impossibly thick cock as you brings you up and down on top of him.
this is the fucking that you expected from the dauntless, untamed man that rolled through your gates with his equally intimidating allies. you wonder how long it’s been since rick had a good fuck. by the way he ruthlessly spears you on top of him, you know it’s been months at least. you conclude it probably wasn’t for his lack of skill though, not with how he maintains a delicious pressure on your clit with those same digits he used on you earlier.
your core is calling again: this time it’s lava hot. whatever tension rick had you dripping at earlier is no comparison to the overwhelming internal buzz pulsing inside of you.
“fuck, honey, you’re gushin’ around me.”
you look down. he’s right; you’ve made a slick mess of both of your laps. the words to respond don’t make it to your mouth because rick is once again picking up the pace.
every time you coil around him, rick just adopts a more devastating pace. it’s like after months of going without, he’s doing everything in his power to be as deep inside of you as possible. any deeper and he’d be back in your throat.
“you gonna come again on my cock, baby?” the brunette murmurs in your ear.
“yes, sir.” you croak, not having the capacity to comprehend what your words were doing to him. unless your body and the mind of its own it had counted.
your core is reacting right on time to rick’s consistent teasing. “that’s it,” he encourages, applying even more pressure despite your shaking legs. every time you sink down onto him, you feel full to the hilt.
“ah, fuck.”
rick’s orgasm hits before your finale; nonetheless, his tightening embrace and desperate thrusts into you are just what you need. the contrast of your hot core with rick’s warm cum should make you sick with worry and maybe something else but you’re too fucked out and drawn into your peak to care.
sweat coats your brow and your hair is sticking up in every direction but you’re just swallowed up by the tightening in your core. swallowed by how full you feel. you feel like you could make even more of a mess on top of rick.
the jolt that reverberates through your core this time is galvanizing. you wonder if there was anything before this orgasm.
head laid forward against his chest, perfectly glistening tits rising and falling with each full breath, you are at peace. who knew that relieving rick of his stress could bring you so much pleasure?
and when you look up at him, all you can do is offer a pupil blown smile.
he might just like alexandria.
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chelseypprimrose · 11 months
Text
The Boy’s a Liar / bfd!Negan x Reader / no-apocalypse AU 🧟
Warnings: daddy kink, breeding kink, boyfriendsdad!negan, oral (female receiving) use of belt, squirting, swearing, use of degrading names, general Negan ness, voyerism, unprotected sex, reader is a little evil to her boyfriend : NOT PROOFREAD YET
Summary: Reader finds out her boyfriend cheated on her via a Snapchat story, she takes sweet revenge with her boyfriend’s hot as fuck dad.
A/N: I’ve never wrote for breeding kink before so please be kind lol 🤍 I had a lot of fun with this one!
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“Fucking waste of my damn time.” You cursed yourself, boys are so stupid. You couldn’t stop watching the Snapchat story of your boyfriend’s best friend, your boyfriend so obviously kissing a woman that wasn’t you. Not a care in the world, disrespecting you and the values you held in a loyal relationship. You didn’t know it this was a common occurrence that you just hadn’t noticed or a drunken one off. Not that it mattered, it was still a betrayal of your trust.
Eyes glossy with tears, you were driving towards your boyfriend’s house that he shared with his father, Negan. You didn’t even have a speech prepared, what you were going to say, if this was the final nail in the coffin of your relationship, your mind was running at a mile a minute.
Pulling into the driveway, you turned off the engine and put your car keys into your handbag, getting out and walking with purpose to the front door, your heels slamming on the concrete floor. You knocked on the door loudly, no answer. You knocked again, your hand shaking with annoyance.
The door finally opened but it wasn’t your boyfriend who stood before you, it was Negan.
“Hey doll, what you doing here so early? I was just making breakfast if you wanted any?” He offered before he took a proper look at your face, noticing the black tears of mascara that ran softly down your face.
“I don’t know what kind of fucked up morals you’ve taught your son, Negan, but I thought you were a better man. Obviously I was wrong.” You said with spite, you were letting your feelings be known to anyone who would listen. It was just unfortunate that it was the wrong person to direct your anger towards.
Technically, Negan hadn’t done anything wrong, but he was guilty by association in your current messed up state. You just needed to vent at someone, and Negan was the closest person to your boyfriend.
“Woah, doll? What’s wrong, what’s he done?” Negan moved aside so you could come in, walking towards the kitchen, the smell of fresh bacon and egg filling your nostrils. You placed your handbag on the kitchen counter, arms crossed, your hand playing with your necklace.
“He went out last night and he kissed a girl, I saw it on his friend’s Snapchat.” You managed to get out through a small sob, your eyes filling up with tears again. You couldn’t believe you were crying like this in front of his dad, you felt embarrassed.
“Jesus Christ, I’m sorry dollface, I didn’t raise the kid to do shit like that, we are loyal to our women.” Negan sighed, his hand running through his salt and pepper beard, trying to find the words to make the pain in your heart go away. His eyes watched you as you grabbed a tissue from the box placed on the dining table, using your front phone camera as a mirror to wipe your tears away.
“You know what though, it might be a blessing in disguise.” Your head whipped around to give him a look of disbelief, in what world could this be a blessing? “What the fuck do you mean, my boyfriend cheated on me? How could that even remotely be a blessing?!” Feeling your anger building up again, Negan walked around to your side of the counter, towering over you, his head coming down to whisper in your ear. “Oh please, Y/N. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me, remember that party a couple months ago, goddamn doll, you couldn’t take your eyes off my dick in them swim shorts.” He gave a small laugh, his hand coming up to tuck your hair behind your ear, his eyes watching your chest raise with each breath you took. “You need a real man to take care of you, I heard you with him. I’m experienced enough to know when a woman is faking it to spare a man’s feelings.” Your eyes met with his, how on earth could he tell. You couldn’t even deny it, while your boyfriend was good enough, he was too soft with you, complaining when you’d asked him to just choke you a little bit. He didn’t want to accidentally hurt you, he’d said, your eyes rolling in annoyance.
“How the fuck do you know that?” You asked, his cologne hitting you in the face as he got ever so closer to you. “Like I said doll, I know women. You want to be played with don’t you? You want someone who knows how to please you properly, give into it doll. I could give you all the pleasure you’d ever need.” You let out a soft moan, knowing this was wrong but your petty nature taking over, not only was this such an evil way to get back at him, you longed for Negan. He was right on the nose with how you looked at him, you’d always found him attractive, just trying to stop yourself from jumping his bones whenever the two of you were around each other.
“Fuck it, I’ve always wanted to know what your cock feels like, deep inside me.” You whispered out, your hands wrapping around Negan’s neck as he captured your lips in a kiss. His hands finding their way to your ass, squeezing the round globes hard.
He lifted you up, walking towards the stairs. “I’m going to have you begging for mercy when I’m finished with you doll.”
It was almost animalistic, months of repressed attraction coming to a conclusion. You’d never have even thought about your late night fantasies coming true, until this very moment that they had. Negan kicked the door to his bedroom open, not bothering to close it behind him. Placing you on the bed, his hands grabbing the bottom of his t-shirt to pull it over his head revealing his toned torso and arms, his tattoo that you loved so much coming into view.
Your hands started to feel up on his chest, wanting skin to skin contact with him so desperately. You tried to sit up a little to take your tank top off but Negan stopped you in your tracks, slamming your arms down above your own head. “Don’t you fucking dare doll, that’s my job.” A dark look coming across his face, he ripped the tank top off you hastily. His eyes glued to your bare chest, you hadn’t bothered to put a bra on today, in a sleepy haze just wanting to get over here to question your boyfriend. “Such beautiful breasts doll, he’s going to regret giving you up.” Negan stated as he took one of your erect nipples into his mouth, a soft bite as he did. You moaned out, watching his every move, his eyes locked to yours.
Leaning up, Negan unbuckled your belt sliding it out of your jean loops, grabbing your hands, wrapping the belt around your wrists as your hands were placed back above your head. The leather tight and digging into your skin, only turning you on more, heat rushing to your pussy. Negan took the time to unbutton your jeans, pulling them down your legs revealing your small black thong that left little to the imagination, pulling them to the side, Negan licked a strip starting from your opening to the top, focusing his attention on your throbbing clit. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your boyfriend never took the time to ever focus on your pleasure, either because he couldn’t be bothered or he just didn’t care, you didn’t know.
You felt the extra wetness as Negan spat right on your pussy, bringing his fingers to slowly enter you. Starting at a slow, agonising pace he could feel your body relaxing as you let your body give in to the pleasure you were feeling. You wanted nothing more than to grip onto his hair, but your bound hands didn’t allow it. As he felt you relax, he quickened his pace up, moans leaving your lips loud and clear. “Such beautiful noises for me slut, and I know these are real.” You felt your core tightening as you kept building up wave after wave of pleasure, you’d never even realised you could get so close to orgasm so fast, Negan caught on to this and took his fingers out of you, dripping in your juices. He forced his fingers into your mouth, you sucking the wetness off like it was your last meal.
“You fucking dirty girl, you like the way you taste?” He asked, his fingers still in your mouth as he pulled his shorts down, revealing his boxers to you. “Yes, I love it so much. I need to fill me up Negan, ruin me please.” You managed to get out through heavy breathing and his fingers. He chuckled, manoeuvring your body so you were on all fours, facing the mirrored closet doors, next to the entrance of the bedroom. “I’m going to fuck you so dumb baby girl, you’ll forget your own name when I’m done with you. Going to get you drunk on my cock. You won’t even want another man to touch you.” You whimpered, seeing Negan pulling his large cock out of his boxer shorts, them falling to the ground. His tip was red, leaking with precum, standing erect. He looked like a Greek god, his posture so manly and authoritative. He lined up at your opening and wasted no time, starting at a hard and fast pace. “Oh my god, Negan yes! Fuck!” Your nails dug into your own hands, the leather of the belt still digging into you causing pain but you didn’t care, the feeling was too good to complain. Your toes curled with pleasure in your heels, Negan’s hands gripped on your hips like he was holding on for dear life. “Shit doll, you feel so fucking good, so tight for Daddy.” You eyes widened at the nickname, you’d always wanted to experiment with a daddy kink but he’d never allow it, said it made him feel weird. You couldn’t believe how much this man was filling your darkest fantasies, you felt like maybe your boyfriend cheating was a blessing in disguise after all. Negan’s hand came down to slap your ass, the motion leaving a good red mark on your cheek. You looked towards the large mirrors in front of you, seeing Negan’s body go through the motions, his hips bucking against your ass as he fucked you deep. “Yes daddy, I’m so tight for you, you feel so good inside me.”
Neither you or Negan heard the front door open, your boyfriend finally getting back from his night out, guilt filling him up as he remembered what had happened last night. He knew that what he did was wrong, that kissing that woman was wrong. Still tired and hungover, he at first thought his imagination was playing tricks on him when he heard moaning coming from upstairs, he didn’t think his dad was dating anyone, a look of confusion coming onto his face. He made his way up the stairs, looking through the open gaps of the banister, his features wrinkling in disgust and disbelief when he saw you, head thrown back in pleasure as you met Negan’s thrusts in a timed motion. He rushed up the whole flight of stairs until he got to the door.
“What the fuck is happening here?!” You heard the voice of your boyfriend, your eyes opening with a gasp, you thought Negan would stop, embarrassed that the two of you had been caught in such a way but he went even faster in and out of you, your hands trying to grab some of the blanket that was at the end of the bed, failing miserably due to the fact of your hands being bound together.
“Hey son, just treating your girl to a proper fuck, you were stupid as fuck to let this one go, she’s one dirty fucking girl! Maybe this will teach you not to go round sticking your dick in other women when you’ve got an absolute diamond at home. Now stand there and watch boy.” Negan laughed, your eyes meeting with your boyfriend, you couldn’t help with the moan that escaped your lips as Negan moved down to grab your chin, his head coming to the side of your ear. “Tell him doll, tell him how good daddy’s fucking you.” You smirked, looking out the corner of your eyes to look at Negan. “So fucking good daddy, filling me up, better than he ever could. Please keep fucking me like this daddy.” You whimpered, your lips meeting with Negan as he kept his eyes open, staring at his son.
Your boyfriend didn’t know what to do, he rushed out of the room, slamming the front door behind him as he was trying to gather his thoughts together.
“That was so fucking dirty doll, oh my goodness! I can feel you getting close girl, let yourself cum all over my cock. I want to finish inside you, fill your body with my baby.” You screamed out as your orgasm took over your body, black spots coming into your vision. Your pussy felt like it had a death grip on Negan’s cock, his thrusts coming to slower pace as he let you ride out your orgasm. “Pull out of me, I want to ride you daddy.” Negan didn’t need any more encouragement as he pulled out of you, lying down on his back as you dug your heels into the mattress, sat on top of him. “Be careful with those things, don’t want a hole in my mattress dollface. You look fucking good in them though, sexy as fuck.” He said, as he shoved his cock into your dripping hole. You bounced up and down, even with your orgasm taking energy out of you, you couldn’t stop, you needed Negan like a hardcore drug. His musk mixing with a light sheen of sweat over your bodies. Negan’s hands gripped your ass as he directed your body as you grind into his hips, your second orgasm building up in your core. His cock filling you up, “That’s it baby, bounce on daddy’s cock for me, I want to see my seed dripping out of you.” You quickened your pace, feeling Negan’s cock twitching in you. “That’s it daddy, fill me up with your seed, I want you to fill my pussy up daddy!” You screamed out, uncaring about neighbours being able to hear you, you were too cock-drunk to care. Negan growled, his seed spurting out in you, his hands gripped your hips like a vice, his breathing heavy. You came to your end as well, gushing all over his cock, wetting the bed below you and Negan’s stomach as you squirted for the first time ever in your life. You moaned louder than ever, falling to the side of Negan, his flaccid cock sitting on top of his torso. You both were spent, the only thing that could be heard in the room was heavy breathing. Negan got up slowly from the bed, he released you from the belt, your wrists red and sore. He grabbed a small towel from the on-suite bathroom, cleaning you up from your squirt wetness. He laid back next to you, his arm coming over you to pull you closer, a sloppy kiss on your lips. “Life is never going to be the same again after this doll. Shit, I know it’s wrong to ask but leave him, I’ll treat you better than that stupid boy.” You looked at him, a smile coming across your face. “Negan, you could ask me to do anything right now and I’d say yes, that was the best fuck of my life, Daddy.”
Negan laughed and slapped your ass as he caught you in another sensual kiss.
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emodaryls · 2 months
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Father!Daryl Dixon/Autistic!Child headcanons
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Daryl would try his hardest to meet their needs. Going on runs to find headphones/earplugs, sunglasses, things with a texture they like, comfort foods, clothes that aren’t too overstimulating, whatever they need.
If they have sensitive hearing and didn’t bring their headphones/earplugs with them, he’d place his hands on their ears to block out loud noise as best as he could.
His poncho would probably bring comfort to his kid. Smelling like him, being a decent texture, them liking to just feel the fabric pattern. He’d hand it over to them whenever they’re overstimulated so they can get calmed.
If they like physical contact and pressure, he’d give big tight bear hugs, holding and squeezing them close for as long as they need. If his kid doesn’t like pressure and physical contact, he’d keep physical touch to a minimum to not make them uncomfortable.
He would never forgive himself if he were the reason why his kid was overstimulated and upset. He’d never want to be the reason why.
If they were all fidgety and pretty much on the verge of freaking out, he’ll hold their hands until they calm down. (But not without asking if it’s okay first!)
During meltdowns he’d be there for them, making sure they’re okay. After their meltdown he’ll give them time to calm down and rest, since meltdown might be very draining for them.
Overall I think he would be very supportive!! Ran out of ideas… might make a part 2
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lilgoblinbitch · 2 months
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☾₊˚ ༘⋆
i’ve been daydreaming about crm!rick, and…
imagine how it’d feel having rick bend you in half and fuck you like he needed your cunt, like it was the answer to all his problems.
he would always have his rough calloused hand slap and grip at your ass as he rutted his hips faster and faster against your own. he is a harsh fucker. and you love it.
he’d fuck you anywhere he could. after another rough day as a crm soldier he would 100% go looking for you immediately afterwards so he could find refuge in your sweet cunt. you’d be in your own room, getting ready for training, but he’d barge in and his lips were hastily pressed against your own. he would have you pinned against the wall, ripping whatever clothing you had on - or were getting ready to put on - off your body.
when the days were really draining for him, he’d have you on your hands and knees, his fake hand pushing you down into the ground as he fucked you into a trance. he loved watching you go limp after fucking you stupid.
“like that, sweetheart? like my cock splitting you open?”
you were so eager to please him. he’d deserved it after all. he worked so hard, day and night.
“such a good whore f’me, hm?” his pace quickened, sweat glistened on his toned torso and chest, and the base of his shaft collected your sweet arousal as he continued to fuck your hole unceasingly. “‘m not done with you, no. i need your cunt.”
those rough days rick had had always manifested into rough sex with you, and you always looked forward to it.
☾₊˚ ༘⋆
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dixonsemoboy · 2 days
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DIXONSEMOBOY'S BLOG
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xan/xander, ftm, he/him, ur fav living dead boy
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🦴🐾 STUFF IVE WRITTEN SO FAR:
NEEDY MORNING || ୨୧ || ftm reader, smut
DARYL W/ SOMNO KINK || ୨୧ || ftm reader, smut
DARYL W/ SIZE KINK || ୨୧ || ftm reader, smut
BOYDAD! DARYL || ୨୧ || ftm reader, fluff (with moodboard)
ME YAPPING ABOUT DARYL || ୨୧ ||
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i will NOT write:
fem! reader, it's uncomfortable for me to write and since i'm male i can't apply myself to the story. no fun in it for me.
any weird kinks, scat, piss, feet, etc (i doubt there's any of u out there who even fw those anyway)
underage reader with smut (ew...)
non-con
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i WILL write:
male reader, mainly ftm because that's what i am.
gn! reader.
fluff, smut, angst
pretty much any kinks besides the ones listed up above, i'm open to most things and trust, i'm a freak.
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i'm a beginner writer, so excuse me if what i write isn't the best. i'm still improving.
i can't figure out how to link the actual works with the text up above ^ (stuff ive written so far) so excuse me for that. for now you guys are just gonna have to scroll until you find the fics 😭 sorry baes.
daryl is a switch imo, so i can write him as submissive or dominant
this is a strictly norman centered page, i only write for his characters. he's the only man ever. 🎀
don't come into my inbox talking about sum "daryl's straight, daryl's straight!!" cuz trust me i do not gaf. mind your own business.
feel free to send me asks!! my inbox is pretty empty rn.
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cats-and-fiction · 1 year
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Heya! I request Daryl x female reader please 🥺 He comforts her after she had a fight with Andrea because Andrea endangered the group. Thank you!
Here you go, Hope you enjoy it! You got into an especially nasty fight with Andrea after she did once again did something stupid but this time it endagered the group. While the others did seem to be not happy about it they didn't confront her like you did. You had left your old camp near Atlanta and had driven towards the CDC, right after entering the city you split up to gather some food and other resources. To your delight she grouped up with you and Daryl.
You three had swept some houses finding only minimal useful stuff as most of it had already been raided and taken. One can of beans would definitly not be enough to feed all and with a quick look of it the 2 years of it already been expired would add a special kind of note to the taste.
Silently the three of you made your way back to the rest of the group holed up in a old building that had been left to rot even before the Walkers started to happily chew on friends and family. You came the same way in that you went out though this time talking abit knowing that the perimeter was clear. Thats what you thought. A old door, unnoticeable with the first look swung open after the last person had passed it, Andrea. As ahe was grabbed from behind and the Walker stumbling out of the closet was trying to get to her she screamed.
Daryl holding up his crossbow and your trying to help Andrea get rid of the walker with a knofe ready in your hand a loud noise rang out almost right besidw your ear. Confused you stbled backwards, looking at her holding her damned gun in hand. The walker was toppling backwards with old dark blood gushing out it‘s rotting head.
After the shot the group had scrambled everything up and changed locations just to be sure that they wouldn‘t be surprised by any of the walkers friends. And you sat fuming in a corner staring Andrea down. Who was fussed around by Carol to make sure she was okay. While they did ask if you were okay too you had to admit you didn‘t leave them any chance as you had strut away into the corner immidiatly. Daryl had been with you some time before he was called over by Shane and Rick to discuss what to do next.
Andrea noticed your stare and she got up and calmy walked over to you. She had a smile on her face. A fucking smile and her eyes spoke words of being appearantly sorry but you were sure she wasn‘t she hated you as mich as you probably did her now. „Look, I‘ms orry y/n but I got scared and didn‘t know what to do.“, she had a pasaivly friendly tone in her voice. Belittling you. Sounding as you were in the wrong and whatever she had done was okay. „Yeah sure. Thats what you think. If you had trusted Daryl and me and ounce you knew we wouldn‘t have let that thing bite you. But no little princess didn‘t trust us“, she didn‘t trust you. Thats it. She trusted Daryl but didn‘t trust you and Daryl couldn‘t have shot without hurting her too.
„And with that fucking shot you endangered all of us. What if there had been more around the corner? Imagine that, we could have all died because you got scared and didn‘t think about using that damn knife you have“, you stood up in anger and pointed your finger at her. Angrily you exhaled your breath before turning around and just going away into another room. You couldn‘t talk to her now without spitting more bad words. Maybe you would go later to talk to her reasonable, who knows, but not now.
In the room next door you had pullee one of the old and dirty chairs to you, sitting against the wall and with the door in your view. So much stuff had happened in the last couple days and you just felt like you could explode with every little thing that happens. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Daryls form appear in the doorframe. He stood there musterung you before coming closer, a metallic plte in his hand and a spoon inside of beans. „Are thise the ones we found?“, you laugged as you took the plate. „If you want I could make those for you if you want?“, he pulled one of the other chairs to sit beside you. The room must have been some sorr of meeting room before hand. A long table laid sideways in the middle, chairs on each side of the door. A whiteboard explaining what sorts of sales the corporation had done. They had seemingly rocked the bread market.
„are your ears better?“, you nodded to answer his question as you ate the food he brought you. „Your right. With Andrea. Ahe shouldn‘t have used that gun.“, Daryl nudged your shoulder with his. You put the plate down into your lap. „She is just so…ugh. So annoying?“, now you looked up at him. With a sigh you leaned your small frame against his and chewed on another spoon of beans. How you hated them, what wouldn‘t you do for a good meal that didn‘t include beans or any sort of canned goods.
Daryl laied his arm around your shoulder and rubbed it. The evening would be only the two of you in that room.
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dixonsgirl93 · 9 months
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LOOKING FOR MORE DARYL DIXON FOCUSED BLOGS!! PLS LIKE THIS POST AND ILL CHECK OUT YOUR PROFILE TO FOLLOW!!
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Pls n thank
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fanfictilltheend · 1 year
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Masterlist
A/n: Hi, this is my second story ever and I wrote it like 5 years ago but was too scared to post it lol so if you could give any feedback that would be much appreciated! I have more chapters to this so if you want 'em ya gotta let me know! Y/N is like 20 in this and Negan is whatever age he is in season 7 so if that's too much of an age gap please turn back!
Warnings: 18+ smut dn interact if not 18+ oral, afab!you, daddy kink, choking, age difference, rough sex, abusive!Rick Grimes, protective negan, canon typical violence, orgasm denial
Summary: It wasn't just Carl who tried to gun down Negan and his men. Y/N Older Sister!Grimes doesn't get along with Rick, but wants to kill Negan just as badly as Carl. Except the two get caught and Negan has some special plans for Y/N. Enemies to lovers.
“Look, I'm sorry, sweetheart. That was mean,” Negan continues as he wipes away my tears. His voice has changed ever so slightly. No one has touched me this gently, this tenderly, in what feels like a lifetime. It would almost be unsettling if it didn’t feel so...nice. “It was. What I meant to fucking say is that your dad doesn't love you the way he loves Carl because...you're different. You're not like your father – you're much more pragmatic. He wants to protect everyone ‘cuz he's got that goddamn hero complex that runs in your family, but you know better, don't you, darling? You know you can't save everyone. You get that sometimes people deserve to be punished...”
Masterlist
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enchantedlov3r · 19 days
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who I write for💓
I tend to dabble in a lot of fandoms so the ones I'm going to be frequently writing for is...
-OBX (that includes JJ Maybank, John b, Rafe Cameron, maybe pope)
-TWD (that includes Rick Grimes, Daryl Dixon, and maybe Shane Walsh)
-ASTV (this really just includes Miguel O' Hara)
-PJO: the series (this includes Percy Jackson and Luke Castellan)
That's all!
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writella · 9 months
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In the Meadow
So I meant to start + post a Daryl fic (and it’s 50% there, I’ll finish it soon!!) but I was just obsessed with Rick and the reader in their little spot in the meadow in Moments Behind His Eyes, and I wanted to write another story in that setting. I was actually trying to keep it ‘porn, no plot’ lol but then I added a bit of plot, one day I’ll try to keep it super short, I promise!! But what I added is fun.. at least I think lol!! You can read it as a prequel to mbhe or not if you don’t want to picture the age gap dynamic that is in this fic, your choice. c:
Rick x fem!reader, age gap relationship (reader is in her 20s), Alexandria era, smut / 18+ (I marked the area with a heart where it starts and then three hearts when it really starts to get serious), oh and one use of the word “daddy.” This is my second fic and I would love to hear some feedback, so please comment or make an ask on my blog about it or about twd, rick, or daryl related things or literally anything about whatever you’d like— you would make my day. ♡
You hate to admit it, but you still felt uncomfortable having sex with Rick at home. It’s ironic how becoming the woman of the house accidentally made you more promiscuous than you ever were before. You were unbuttoning his shirt and he was taking off your pants under the sun, above the grass, in a meadow— a MEADOW, near water, that literally anyone could walk into.
Well, that was not exactly true. In probability it was— you were outside— but in actuality, almost no one visited this slice of heaven you and Rick called your spot.
“Have you been near the meadow today?” Rick, in this variation or another, would ask on occasion. “I saw a pretty little flower growing there this morning.” His smile was sweet, but you knew better. “It was your favorite color,” there was mischief in his eyes as he shrugged nonchalantly, “reminded me of you.”
It was typical that if he added some detail or new observation about the meadow, whether it was made up or not, that he wanted you. Now.
It was exciting, but also reassuring that you had a place like this to call your own. Having a gorgeous house was a luxury you would never take for granted, but Rick’s house was almost like an hq. You were pretty sure Daryl’s spot was in the garage or basement. You didn’t bother asking if that’s what he considered his room, or rooms, or not. Daryl was always welcomed, no questions asked, and no need for him to get self conscious about his ways— you loved him. And you were also pretty sure he slept outside sometimes, just because it’s what felt natural, or on Carol’s sofa, and who knows where else. He didn’t say and no one asked. And as for everyone else, especially those of the pre-Alexandria group, coming by unannounced, asking Rick questions, or sitting for a cup of coffee was common. You guys even had small meetings there. To say the least, this home wasn’t always a private one, and you did like that, that the place you lived in was a safe meeting area for others, but as your relationship with Rick advanced, slowly moving from this unspoken partnership to a more outwardly romantic one, you enjoyed having an area that felt like no one was watching.
You were a little younger than Rick. Maybe a little too much younger if you asked some. It was only a little more than nearing toward a decade into this new world, yet you still had your before brain. If this was then, you knew there would be family members who absolutely would not approve. He was the father of a teenager after all. But now, with your found family, you were one of the leaders in Alexandria. You were even a part of the group before Alexandria. Searching for a home, out in the wild for what felt like well over half a year. Surviving a hardship like that brings people together, shows them their strengths, their resilience. Everyone was an equal. And you pulled your weight more than you ever imagined of yourself, as both a fighter and friend.
It’s part of what made Rick captivated by you. You were strong, and more than capable of holding your own, but so endearingly kind. You weren’t a natural at anything, but a quick learner well enough who always had interesting stories to tell. Only you could make a seemingly basic tale about how you got lost on your way to a concert sound so entertaining. You still had the beauty of the past in you. You loved to read and write and you missed watching movies, but you never minded retelling what you remembered of the plot from one of the groups favorite films to lighten the mood on another sleepless night where you hadn’t found a home yet. And in the day, when it was time to scavenge or kill the walkers on your trails, you were always prepared to do your part as best as you could. Following example of how to use a gun or your knife. Daryl even taught you how to use his bow, and no one touches his bow. But you liked making a special, intimate connection with everyone, so becoming close to each member came naturally to you. It was individual to you and that person of course— your gentleness and lighthearted charm was truly your own— but in a way, they trusted you like they trusted Rick. Without realizing it was this precisely, he felt an unspoken connection to you because of it.
You felt it too. He always gave credit to his group when it was due, never down playing their strengths or intelligence, so hearing a quick compliment about your ‘good work’ or him placing a hand on your shoulder, patting your back, or that one time he called you a ‘sweet girl’ because of the way you knew how to make Carl smile, wasn’t exactly uncommon— well maybe that last one— but nonetheless it doesn’t mean it didn’t touch the deepest parts of your heart every time you heard or felt it.
Honestly, you found it silly how obsessed you were with the littles things about him. You loved his beard, how his hair remained a rich brown, yet his facial hair was a mix of brown and grey and white, and how he looked stunning with any variation of it. You knew you would take him with it at its longest, but even with none at all. And his eyes, those potently colored blue eyes. The ones that had little crinkles that formed around the corners when he smiled, it made you wonder if that meant he smiled a lot before all of this. Those eyes reminded you of the sky and what could be. The future without fear or as close as you could get to it. You were inspired that someone who had taken control and fought against oppressors, didn’t become one himself. He always remains so deeply loving and even vulnerable at times. He could be untrusting, that’s true, but in the end, he was always ready to accept more people into his life or his community if they showed their humanity.
Thinking about the things you loved about Rick made you excited for a future with him, but then there was Carl whom you loved so deeply. It’s not that things were exactly secret, you knew that was true, but you still wondered how aspects of your relationship with him might change when kisses were openly exchanged at the breakfast table, or how it would look to everyone else if you held Rick’s hand more freely when people were around, maybe it a moment where you felt he needed it to remember you were there in times of stress.
Though it’s not like everyone isn’t aware of the fact that Rick doesn’t talk with, or take the advice of, or even argue at times with others the way he does with you. Rick respected his group, but it was no mystery that he respected you in a way you do with a significant other. Not to mention, you lived in his house for god’s sake; you called it ‘home’ when you referenced it.
You kept teetering with your thoughts, you liked your current home dynamic. You got to be Rick’s partner, everyone’s friend, plus you were also Carl’s confidant. You even liked to write him little stories, knowing how much he loved his old comics from your time at the prison. You’d call them ‘comic books but in word form,’ always handing them over to him excitedly.
“Comics have words,” he’d tease, but he always loved reading them, all of ‘em. He was obsessed. What you would call his ‘little emo boy soul’ would constantly ask if you could write something a little darker, but you couldn’t help but make the endings positive. In truth, writing them was an escape for yourself too. This obviously wasn’t the life you expected to live after all. But you also loved the Grimes’ and you couldn’t picture your life without them now. And you loved that ever since you moved to Alexandria and ever since the original clan started moving to their own respective houses, Rick never asked you to leave and Carl continually asked if you were around.
Your care for him danced over the fine line of being protective of him like a guardian, but always, more likely than not, engaging in conversation with him like an older sister. You liked that he trusted you to tell him things that he felt he couldn’t always casually talk to his father about. As endlessly giving as Rick is as a father, he was also a leader living in the aftermath of an apocalypse— he was a busy guy.
Although you give him the benefit of the doubt, your handsome and strong but obviously oblivious man, has yet to realize or at least acknowledge, that his own son has a girlfriend, or whatever Carl and Enid’s relationship was, you didn’t ask too many questions about the actual definition. From your time with Rick before Alexandria, you understood romantic friendships and blurred lines well enough. But you did know Enid’s favorite color, that she knew how to roller skate, and you even helped Carl make her a bracelet from a box of beads one cute little five year old girl in town lent to him.
-♡-
That’s why as you took quick breaths in between kisses, Rick’s tongue quickly peaking in and out of your mouth as your heads moved left to right and back again, he kissed you once more, slowly humming into the kiss, then letting go to ask, “When are we going to do this in our bed?”
Our bed. That’s the first time you heard him call it that.
Sure, the amount of times you’ve tiptoed to Rick’s door has increased as the weeks have gone by, but you still had your own room. As much as you liked how our bed sounds, is it bad that you still liked how things were? All your books were in there. And you liked when he surprised you in your room too.
“I think at this point you know Carl better than anyone, you don’t think he has eyes?”
“I’d say what we have has been undefined, but not discreet,” you reason. You take a beat, “I just want to be respectful.”
“I’m ready for you,” his words are firm and loving. “I don’t think anyone is going to worry. And if they do, they’re going to have to realize they���ve probably noticed all along.” Then a curious smile appears on his face, “And did we ever know how old Abraham was in comparison to Rosita?”
That made you giggle far too much, but it also surprised you and you could tell by the look on his face, it surprised him too. Rick was kind, and he could be smug, and liked to laugh but he wasn’t the joking type, especially about a lost loved one. It’s one of the first times he’s mentioned Abraham in the context of his life, not his death.
“I’m sure Abraham would have thought that was funny too.” You think for a moment, “Something like, ‘there ain’t enough donuts to choose from in this crumbled up box of life to stick your twinkie into. Beggars can’t be choosers. Fuck the plain or get none.’” You guys both share a look of shock and laughter at your terrible impression. Imperfectly derogatory for sure, but not quite the same as the bizarre but surprisingly understandable verbiage of the charismatic guy you used to know. “Rosita is like a strawberry with sprinkles, or a boston creme though. You know, something special; I was just saying whatever came to my head first,” you explain shyly, eyes away, still giggling.
Rick is hysterically speechless, the most confounding look on his face as he tries to process the fact that that pseudo-Abraham phrase came out of your mouth.
“I just didn’t want you to get sad.” Your voice is tender and sincere.
-♡ ♡ ♡-
He nods, acknowledging the gesture, saying softly, “Silly girl,” his thumb and pointer holding your chin. “My pretty girl.” He pecks you, but his lips go in between yours as he does, it feels so deep for something so quick. “My sweet girl.” Another kiss, and that fire builds in your heart again, you’ll never forget the first time he called you that and you’re never getting over how much you love it. “My sweet baby girl,” his voice is sultry, even though he says it low, it sounds thick and sharp opposed to his lips that feel warm and soft, though his beard scratches up against your skin as he kisses you once more, tongue going into your mouth.
When Rick kisses, it feels immersive. He’s the man who always has the right words to say, so when he can’t speak in a moment like this, all of the conviction he would display verbally, comes out orally by way of how his mouth feel against yours, it’s as if it touches every corner.
Closing your eyes as you lean in, it feels like sunbathing: there is a peace at the feeling of brightness and heat as your eyelids lower. It’s just like how everything about being with Rick feels right. You feel embarrassed to admit you might worship the man. You’d give in to anything he gave you.
You were already in his lap, but now your hips move closer to his own until there is no more space. Your knees are bent and your shoes are flat on the ground, helping you grind against him with more control. You push in, up and down, and his hands are on your lower back, nearing your ass helping you go faster.
Rick catches your lips and your tongues twist into one another. Your arms are over his shoulders, they’re straight and you have your hands crossed over the other. As you continue to rock, one of his hands slowly trails up your back, caressing your neck and then he pushes into your hair. It guides your head exactly the way he wants to kiss you, controlling it, every feeling making you moan into his mouth. Heaven really could be a place and it was your spot, in the meadow, where you and Rick loved and touched exactly how you wanted to.
Rick lets go of you completely and pushes his hands to the ground and slides back as best as he can, moving the two of you closer to a tree to support his back. You both push off your shoes, his shirt was discarded long ago, but now you undo his belt and he’s taking off your shirt.
He’s pulling his boxers down, his hardened cock springs up, and you notice a vein on the side, precum at the tip, you were this close to kissing it but then he pulls your underwear over to the left, not taking it off. You don’t question it because he’s quick with his movements, checking how wet you were with his fingers, despite there being an obviously large wet spot on the fabric, and then he pushes himself in, bottoming out immediately.
Your sigh is angelic, and his groan is guttural, it almost makes you moan again.
You rock against him, this time feeling so full and euphoric. You hadn’t had sex in the before time, but there was that one time where you did lose your virginity to a nice guy back at the prison, and then another time a year later when you decided to try again with someone else. It was fun, but meaningless. You didn’t think you’d be the one night stand type, at least not for your first times, but back then you sometimes felt like everyday was your last day, and as much as you always admired Rick, he was heavy in mourning in the early prison days, and you were trying to be a good friend by keeping your distance, talking to him platonically.
Alexandria was different though, you felt a new hope here. And then there were Rick’s more forward gestures, leading you to follow his new energy, and now you think he has probably ruined everyone else for you, not that there would be anyone else. Who else could there be now that Rick called you his?
You started to pump up and back down, bouncing happily. You were always the kind of person that was so worried about everyone else’s feelings, and as much as you smiled it wasn’t all the time that Rick saw you so carefree. So much so in fact you kept switching from bouncing to rocking, not knowing which you liked best, both feeling so good, “you just feel so big,” you admitted, stretching out the syllables, making him groan again.
It amused him too, laughing lightly as he opened his eyes, watching your face tilt, mouth agape, pants and quiet “ahs” coming out of you. Your eyes were closed, you looked as if you were in an amazing, intoxicating place.
He liked that this was a new way he got to know you that other people didn’t. You never admitted it, but he knew now that sometimes you like being on top. It made him chuckle, just watching you do as you pleased. He liked giving you what you wanted, but now he wanted to speed things up.
“Alright,” he said, kissing you quickly, “my turn.” He pulled you off and almost threw you to the ground. You thought nothing of it, all you did was take off your under garments in anticipation.
He was between your legs now, on his knees, staring at the glistening of your folds that was seeping just a bit at the bottom, the hand on your lower stomach, then your tits, noticing you had discarded your bra— you really were becoming dissolute, weren’t you? But really you were just absolutely drunk on Rick. Finally, he noticed your swollen lips and your teeth that softly bit down on your finger, your eyes entranced by the man above you, the sun creating a halo over his messy curls. “You really are my beautiful girl, aren’t you?”
You shook your head bashfully. “And you’re my handsome man.”
“Oh yeah?”
You hum, you meant it sweetly, but it comes out seductively.
He comes closer, “Does that mean you’re going to let me do exactly what I want?”
“Yes, daddy.” The phrase comes out without thinking, your eyes scrunch, your cheeks are roses, your hands cover your face, but Rick has the widest grin, pushing your hands off to meet your eyes.
“Okay,” he nodded curiously, eyes smiling wickedly now. “If that’s how you see it, baby girl.”
Then suddenly, your head was in between his hands, flat on the grass and he pushes in completely, no stopping. You felt entirely split open. There was no mercy here.
He noticed your eyes and nose scrunching up again at all the pain and pleasure. Your breaths kept coming out as quick and harsh pants, then he watched the tension release as he slowed down, moving his cock in and halfway out a bit, rocking his hips into it. Your pants turned into moaning sighs, and then he switched on you. Totally disrupting the system as he quickened up again. Your mouth opened wide. You tried your best not to shout his name, but nonetheless a loud, “Rick!” came out and your face tightened again.
“Let go,” you were squeezing his arms for dear life at this point, but you listened and released him, reaching for his back. His forearms laid on the grass now so you could put your arms over him. His balls were slapping against you as he went hard and deep, kissing your neck until he couldn’t hold in his grunts and moans that fell directly into your ear. The speed became almost unbearable as he said your name and then he came, but even after he did, his stamina never faltered.
He took your bent leg and placed it over his shoulder, and took the liberty to thumb your clit. Tight circles going fast, fast, fast. But he did make sure to slow down the pace, only a little for you, going in and out saying, “Your turn, pretty girl. You gonna be good for me?”
“Yes,” you said desperately.
You two moaned in unison, thrusting up into each other, until Rick changed the position of his thrusts to curl up inside of you. It makes you drop your leg from his shoulder, digging into his back, “Right there.”
“Yeah, there it is,” he felt you close, he smiled knowing he’s got you exactly where you needed it, “You’re a sweet girl, you know that?” He looked at you when he said it but your eyes were closed. His words alone snapped the knot inside of you and took you over the edge. You felt it everywhere as he pumped vastly once again allowing you to ride your high, hand coming to your jaw, starting to lightly cover your neck as you did so, he did it without thinking and then let go.
Once you came down, he pulled out, putting your underwear and bra back on for you and taking his boxers. He laid flat on his back and pulled you over until you were on top of him.
His arms extended over you, you both laid in peaceful silence for a moment until he said your name, making you look up at him. He took one of his hands to fix your disheveled hair, running his fingers through it lightly. Your eyes doting as your fingers trailed his face in return. You really were his sweet, beautiful girl.
“Tonight,” he started, “After I put Judith down, I’m going to open my door and call out for Carl. I’m going to say goodnight to him and then I want you to come and stand with me by the door. Then you say goodnight too.” He was stern in tone, but gentle in sentiment. “It’s time.”
“Okay,” you responded obediently. “You’re right, it’s time.”
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taystrash · 5 months
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Tay // 22 // Trying this writing thing again
If you’re interested, you can find me here
Previous Blogs:
IOAMB (kpop: bts, monsta x, got7, skz…)
Imagination-of-a-thirsty-weeb (anime: hxh, haiikyuu)
Imagination-of-a-fandom-slut (tv shows: teen wolf, tvd, twd…)
Masterlists, if you would like to see what’s in store:
BTS
Got7
MonstaX
How it started:
I started writing when I was 10, One direction had just debuted and I was in love. They’re how I discovered fanfiction. I never actually wrote for them myself, seeing no shortage of content for members x reader, or members x members, so I looked elsewhere. I started to get into Viners, YouTubers, and Magcon boys and I started writing for them instead. People loved it, I made au gif sets, and I honestly loved the interactions with the fics and between I and my readers. I would write day and night, hurting my shoulders, changing positions, at school thinking of writing, scribbling ideas down here and there. I abandoned that blog for another and that for another and that one to stop writing all together. All my blogs are still up and running, I’d take Teen Wolf requests on one, SKZ on another but I want THIS blog to be a truly multi-fandom blog. I tried to categorize everything, anime into one, kpop into another, I want access to everything all in one. So bear with me! I’m working to get it together! I’m excited to see what the future brings and even more excited to finally get to write again.
REQUESTS
They are open!
I currently am only going to pick back up a few fandoms, SKZ, HxH, and Teen Wolf. I will be writing for new shows such as JJK, AOT, BSD and Demon Slayer.
DISCLAIMER (not to be rude, mean, or mistaken)
I am a smut writer. I like rough, nasty, demeaning, aggressive sex and I will write about it! Please, be warned! Please, do not lecture me about it, you can find fluff, angst, and softer smut elsewhere, OR you can request it and I’ll write that for you and your tastes. I’m not here to judge and I hope no one judges me. I know it can’t be helped but I’m a nasty bitch and I want to be with other nasty bitches :((
Character List:
JJK
Sukuna
Gojo
Geto
Nanami
Shoko
Mei Mei
Toji
Choso
Mohito
Todo
Demon slayer
Giyuu
Rengoku
Muzan
Akaza
Obanai
Gyomei
Sanemi
Tengen
Kokushibo
Doma
Hantengu’s four demons
HxH
Hisoka
Illumi
Razor
The Phantom Troupe
Silva
BDS
Dazai
Fyodor
Akutagawa
Atsushi
Fukuzawa
Ranpo
Poe
Kunikida
Chuuya
Oda
Ango
Francis Scott
Tachihara
Juno
Sigma
Nikolai (clowns are sexy I swear)
Fukuchi
AOT
Eren
Armin
Connie
Jean
Floch
Levi
Erwin
Hange (will be written as they/them, you can decide whether it’s amab or afab.)
Sasha
Mikasa
Reiner
Teen wolf
Stiles
Scott
Parrish
Sheriff Stilinski
Melissa
Liam
Theo
Brett
Derek
Peter
I’ll write for every member of Stray Kids!!
Smut Games:
Feel free to pick a prompt or two to pair with a character/member
Smut Game 1 ( can be found as a link on previous stories but is no longer accessible)
Smut Game 2
Smut Game 3
Smut Game 4
Smut game 5
Happy Slutting <3
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grimesgirll · 2 months
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“not happening.”
“what if i told you that you’d be helping to save the world?”
“by fucking him?”
you scoff, turning your attention back to the braid you’d begun down your back. “i’m not helping you with your passion project, okafor. i have actual shit to do.”
okafor grins at you. “bullshit.”
“no, i still have weekly duties and assignments. i can’t just drop all of that trying to seduce your ticking time bomb.”
“i see the way he looks at you,” he states with a breath of your name. “if he’s gonna be open to anyone, it’s you.”
“he doesn’t need to be open to anyone.” you counter.
“i don’t think you know what he needs yet.”
“and you do?”
“he needs you.”
“no.” you reply flatly, fists clenched. “you need him to enact your little plan that i have nothing to do with.”
the lieutenant colonel gives you a haughty smile. “well then, at the very least he needs stress relief and you owe me a favor.”
you glare at him. “that was a one time thing.”
“you got what you wanted didn’t you?”
“being perpetually indebted to you with favors isn’t what i signed up for,” you complain as you plait your hair.
“you get to sit around and make your little maps and fuck around all day.” your superior reminds you.
you do your best not to scowl too much, unlike the man who your former benefactor wanted you to de-stress fuck. he constantly had a sour look on his face. he was the consignee who cut off his fucking hand trying to escape. how would you convince someone like that to just lay back and let you fuck them until they didn’t miss whatever life they had before again?
“this is kind of a far ask, okafor.” you note and tie off the end of your braid. you finally turn around from the mirror in front of you to face the dark green fatigue clad man behind you. “it’s never gone as far as touching someone like that and actually fucking them. i don’t think i’m up for that.”
okafor crosses his arms. “are you sure about that? last time i checked, you eye fuck him almost as much as he eye fucks you.”
“you’re an asshole.” you spit, venom dripping from your words. “i’m not letting you coerce me into this.” your eyes meet his brown irises. “let this be the last straw for you, lock me up, dishonorably discharge me, whatever, but i’m not just gonna hop on your lackey’s dick because you say so.”
he takes a deep breath and clasps his hands together, smirking for whatever reason. “i think you’ll want to.” he suddenly stands and you’re paranoid for a split second that he’s about to summon backup or attempt to disarm you right here and now. “because i’m not serving up any threats, just desserts. you’ve been good to me and i’ve been good to you. i want you to continue to reward you. maybe with what you’ve wanted all along.”
your eyebrow lifts. “and what would that be?”
okafor doesn’t say anything when you begin breaking the dress code with your workout gear. you make sure to plan time around your community mapping projects to run past the officers' meeting hall in the tighest pair of shorts you owned.
you never forgot to smile and wave to okafor and rick as you pass by. it takes a few days but rick returns your wave.
content adorns your face when you catch him surveying your form from afar, getting closer and closer to that sweet reward okafor had promised you.
soon enough rick is running into you everywhere. you're crossing paths in helicopter hangers, on benches outside of the barracks, during your runs around the reservoir, at the gym, in the administrative office in your most yielding sweater, in the hallway, and at his front door on okafor’s orders.
“okafor wanted me to make sure this got to you.”
“thank you,” rick grunts gruffly, accepting the folder with his latest field assignment from your grasp.
“anytime, rick,” you crow.
before he can bid you good night, you ask if he’d been briefed by okafor yet. he shakes his head.
you smile sweetly. “well, he really wanted you to sit down and talk about the park with someone who’s been there before, knows the layout.”
the cowboy type raises an eyebrow. “you’ve been to olympia national park before.”
“mhmm,” you confirm. “a long time ago but i know more about it than okafor.” you let out a breath, eyes boring into his icy blue gaze. “got a minute?”
the dark wainscoting of officer’s quarters enters your field of vision as rick leads you through the skinny hallway, pointing out a bathroom before bringing you into what you assume is the downstairs living room.
“you can help yourself to the kitchen,” he offers graciously, gesturing towards the kitchen of the open floor plan living space.
“thanks!” you chirp and weave towards the kitchen, finding two short glasses and flinging a cabinet open.
“oh, you have whiskey!”
“it was a gift from okafor.”
you can barely keep a guffaw from tumbling out of your mouth. “that’s very on brand for him,” you comment, turning the handcrafted decanter over in your hands. “well, lucky for you, okafor has fantastic taste.”
rick observes from the leather sofa as you pour two short glasses of whiskey - not even asking if you could. the orange light of the kitchen does nothing to hide how great you look for nine o’clock at night. your gauzy long hair glints, looking sleek beneath the lights as it falls inches above the curve of your ass.
the same bottom that had seemingly been following rick around base. it was like everywhere he turned: you were there. whatever inspired this house call felt suspiciously related.
kneeling on the floor next to the coffee table, you place the tray with your drinks down and empty the folder of its documents in order to splay them across the table. you reach up to rick to pass him one of the twin glasses.
reluctantly, he accepts. however, he doesn’t take a sip from his glass until after you do.
he doesn’t miss the way your throat tenses at the burn of the liquor when it makes its way down. you throw another swig back like a young woman who’s grown accustomed to drinking with her fellow soldiers, but in the quarters of one of her superiors?
“so, here’s where you’ll be landing.” your glass is already on the coffee table and you’re pointing out green meandering lines. “whitehorse mountain is right here. just be careful of atmospheric rivers in the area. did okafor tell you about what happened to the apache team?”
the dark haired man shook his head, worry lines becoming more pronounced.
you shake your head. “forget i said anything.” you take another quick drink from your glass and rick looks alarmed - you’re not like your oxen brothers in arm who could drink themselves silly. he doesn’t have time to dwell on it though because you’re skipping right to the next print out to detail his planned trek along the sauk river.
“it’s a pretty ridge. you should stop and take a picture.” you suggest, thumbing through laminated landmark shots of valleys and vistas, making a verbal note of one which is a convenient stop on his trip.
he bites his pink lip. “i don’t think getting a photo of the view is gonna be on my mind, sweetheart.”
“why not?” you question with a glimmer in your eye. “someone like you should take time to relax when you can.”
he chides your name. “what’re you doin’?”
“your job is important, and we all have jobs to do, right?”
there’s a far awayness in his eyes that you can’t place when you lean in closer. feet tucked under your knees, you’re trailing your hand up rick’s thigh towards the tent in his pants.
“you wanna fuck my mouth?”
“why’re you doin’ this?”
when he iterates your name, you consider backing down but then you remember okafor’s promise and how truly repressed this man seemed.
“it’s been a while hasn’t it.”
rick squirms. he doesn’t mean to but it’s a question not many people have the balls to ask him and he didn’t expect it from you of all people. he tries to block whatever memories are bubbling in response and busies himself with taking in the view of your parted lips.
“you don’t have to say anything, just relax,” you coo, shoving him back slightly.
looking down at you, rick doesn’t know what he has to gain from saying no at this point. rick huffs as you approach his erection but he doesn’t object.
his waistband falls with your fingers and you’re faced with the massive length you’d been worrying about. ever since you first saw rick’s bulge, you were brainstorming how you’d even fit him inside your taut walls, much less inside of your mouth.
starting slow, you begin at the base and kitten lick up to the top. rick’s groans give him away immediately. how can he hide how repressed he is with a cock as hard as rocks?
at the top of him, you’re laving his cockhead in your mouth. “i’ve never been with anyone this big,” you admit for the potential ego boost - even though it’s one hundred percent true. rick has a fucking horse cock if you’ve ever seen one.
your hand is working overtime with everything you can’t fit into your mouth at first. rick exhales hoarsely at the wet heat of your mouth devouring him. he hasn’t had a mouth on him in so long. your tight, warm lips wrap around his dick and you swallow around him.
his self control is rusty so he curses when he bucks into your face, stalling his hips only for you to pick up your pace. he wants to pull you off when he feels like he’s about to cum down your tight airway which is crammed full of his cock.
at the first feeling of that telltale twitch against your tongue, you prepare to do your part to keep rick’s nice leather couch clean and swallow everything he’s been holding back.
popping off of him, you look back up at him and grant a toothy smile. his eyes are lurid and clouded with what you only assume is lust. you’re not prepared for his rough grip to drag you onto the surface and into his lap.
the green cargo mini skirt you were wearing falls down your legs and lands somewhere on the wood paneled floor. the moment after you wipe your mouth with a tight fitting sleeve, rick captures your mouth. slightly taken aback, you moan into the man, squirming borderline uncontrollably on top of him as he pulls your top over your head.
his sturdy fingertips ghost across up your waist to your breast. with one robust squeeze as a warning, he assaults your heaving chest with his flesh hand and bruises your collarbone with something between a kiss and a mini-puncture wound. the proesthetic invades your panties and teases your labia, eliciting a needy hum from you.
his horse cock makes itself known again against the front of your pale pink panties.
fuck, how will he fit?
“god, you’re already soakin’ me.”
you get past the feel of his embrace for a moment to glance down only to be greeted with the sight of your swampy lap. how did i do that? you ponder.
“i wanna feel you on my cock, sweetheart. is that something you can do to help me relax?”
you grin. “i’m glad you asked.” you feel a renewed tingle downstairs. “why don’t you see how i take your fingers first?”
a smirk forms on his face. “probably should.” and then he’s reaching between the two of you to prod a finger at your dripping mound.
a deft finger drives into you. you’re expecting another one but as you lazily rest your head on his clothed shoulder, you just whine. the finger inside of you curls and unfurls, stretching you out without the addition of another digit. just the way his fingers drags along your walls has you twisting on top of him.
“you’re really wet for a girl who came over to talk about maps.”
you don’t comment, just cant your hips and beg for another finger. he obliges.
the calculated sensation has you forgetting what he’s talking about, forgetting about your plan. that rhythm he’s adopted speeds up once you make eye contact with rick.
“one more?” he questions.
you nod furiously. “another!”
rick doesn’t delay and the floor drops out from under once you feel a tongue on your quiveting lower lips.
“rick!” you gasp as his fingers and tongue work in unison to squeeze every naughty little noise out of you.
the soldier doesn’t speak; he just laps up your pussy like it was an order.
you come all over his face.
“sorr-,” you’re shut up by a wet finger in your mouth.
“that’s it.”
the no longer meek man trains his eyes on you as you suck his finger clean. through half lidded eyes, you watch his pupils dilate into fully lust blown orbs. devoid of the bright blue you’d seen before, rick’s stare only shifts when he’s shifting you on top of him.
“is it going to fit?” you don’t even realize that your thoughts are materializing out loud.
the officer snorts. “never had a problem before.”
the initial stretch is challenging. your breath is caught in your throat and you’re almost asking the man beneath you to slow down but he’s already inching in at an excruciatingly stable rate.
fuck, you’re reconsidering this. you curse your lieutenant colonel for acting like this whole song and dance was easy. figures. okafor isn’t the one getting stretched out on an eight inch cock.
at the sound of your whines, rick places a kiss on the top of your forehead. “doin’ so good for me,” rick praises. “so tight.”
i know, i feel you tearing me open you want to rasp but you just try to settle into the feeling. you adjust your position, tilting enough for rick to take a renewed interest in your ass. a firm hand plants itself on your flesh in an attempt to leverage you closer.
“almost there,” he grunts and continues pushing through your clinging canal, through the thick rings of muscle that grip his cock so tightly.
momentarily, you slump against the soldier. yeah, you’d been running around the base in hopes of attracting rick’s attention but your exercise routine was no match for the man with a brick between his legs.
once he’s sheathed inside of you, rick reaches down to toy with your clit. you mutter a soft curse. the sensation picks up and you’re faced with not just feeling full but fully stimulated as well. each drag against your sensitive bundle of nerves has you whimpering into rick.
drives into you become harsher. the impact feels less like a truck and more like a commanding officer. an arm is wrapped around you to keep your position steady on top of okafor’s new favorite soldier. the same one who seems to be hitting the right spot every time he moves you up and down his length.
your hands reach for his graying chestnut hair. they find purchase while rick rocks into you. the urge to complain that his shirt is on exits once a familiar pressure mounts inside of you.
“fuck, you’re squeezin’ me.”
“mhmm,” you expire into his neck, nuzzling into him when he presses fingernails into your sides and lifts and lowers you like his own personal stress relief toy.
you can’t be bothered to care. you’re getting what you want out of this: a reward and a release.
pleasure is just radiating throughout your core again. whatever pain had you speechless earlier has evolved into an ecstasy that has you babbling. rick just keeps a hand on the small of your back and carries on pouring himself into you - into your tight little canal, back and forth, in and out.
“rick,” you’re mewling.
the man can’t be bothered to plant a hand pleasurably on your pussy or respond to your cries, so you complain a little louder.
“want you to cum in me.” you stutter into the pillowcase.
“don’t think you want that,” rick demurely admits.
“no,” you argue between pants. “i’m on the shot they have here. i want you to fill me up.”
rick utters a curse into your neck, pouring himself into you so swiftly you’re surprised. just like you asked, he pumps his hips leisurely into your soaked cunt. you wince at the sound of a squelch. hopefully rick doesn’t care too much about having to clean his sofa.
neither of you are expecting the noise you make when rick untangles himself from you. you’re too tired to have shame and simply sink back into the ductile pillows. your head swivels over slowly to find rick watching your chest fall up and down unevenly.
laying beside the man, you can’t help but feel accomplished. for once, the soldier is sporting a blissed out look on his face instead of a scowl or thousand yard stare. but as he slings an arm around you and tugs you closer to his sweltering, sweaty body, you can’t help but feel guilty - manipulative even.
mission accomplished, but at what cost?
pt. 2
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chelseypprimrose · 10 months
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Handy With His Hands / handyman!negan x housewife!reader / 18+ / pre-apocalypse
Warnings ⚠️ : unprotected sex, adultery, oral (f receiving), rough sex elements
Summary: being a housewife is quite dull, especially when your husband is a corporate jackass- until a sexy handyman comes to fix your shower.
A/N: I got this little saucy story in my head while reading some handyman!joel miller stories and I just thought: Negan + handyman? so hot! my stories are always something out of a cheesy porno scenario but idec , i know i’m never going to have these fantasies happen to me in the real world so i believe it’s self care to let my dulu stories write out on paper 🤭 please enjoy 🤍
not proof read yet 🫣
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“can you please just get someone to come and look at that thing? i’m sick of having to take cold showers!” you exclaimed, your voice travelling from the kitchen to the living room where your husband was on a phone call. “i’m on the phone, honey.” he replied back, hidden annoyance in his tone, recognisable to you but if anyone else was to hear, they’d think it to be cheerful. you cursed him out in your head, counting down the hours until he was going to be gone on his long business trip. finally, you’d be able to take a break from your expected housewife duties, one of your favourite things to do when your husband was away, catch a few rays in your back garden, take a dip naked in the swimming pool. you had to find thrills where you could as your life was a revolving door of the same boring routine, day in and day out. you craved for something, some sort of adventure to come into your life and completely turn it on its head, you were still waiting on that day unfortunately.
you’d been married to your husband for around three years now, even if it felt like forty. it had been a fairytale at the beginning, he’d get you flowers every week, freshly picked, take you out for dinner at least four times a month, he’d seemed like the perfect man to get married to, until you were locked in, bounded by the commitment and paperwork. he’d neglected those responsibilities, it was rare for him to even take you out for a date night anymore, it was usually just forcing you to go to dinner meetings so he could show you off to potential clients, having to spend your evening being hit on and leered over by slimy old men, your body used to close business deals. always buying you some diamond necklace or earrings after the fact, to keep you happy. you spent most of your time at home when not being used as a dress up doll for your husband, cooking, cleaning, keeping the house in perfect condition - not that he ever noticed.
“alright, i’ve got someone coming round to look at the shower, i’ve got to leave for my flight dear. i love you. i’ll give you a call when i land.” he says, his suitcase rolling on four wheels beside him, his head coming down for a peck on your lips, absolutely no spark or electricity through the kiss, not like it used to be. you mumbled a love you back, as you watched him walk out of the front door, a sigh of relief when the door shut behind him. you took your apron off, placing it on the hook next to the cabinets in the kitchen. walking upstairs into your shared bedroom, you quickly changed out of your clothes, putting on a new two piece bikini you’d treated yourself to a couple weeks ago, topping it off with a pair of sunglasses to keep the sun out of your eyes. grabbing a towel on your way out, you slid the patio door open, folding out the towel and placing it on the sun lounger, sitting down on it and lounging out. connecting your phone to the bluetooth speaker outside, you decided to put on your relaxing mix, hoping it would help you get a small nap in before the repairman was here.
it was really hard to get one on such short notice, how your husband had been able to get one the same day baffled you, probably pulled some strings with one of his business buddies you thought. while you had good money in the bank, you despised how your husband would treat other people that weren’t in the same tax bracket as you both were. you were the more generous person in the relationship, giving to various charities when you could, even though it annoyed your husband to no end when you did. in a selfish way, you revealed in it, any subtle way you could piss him off without making it obvious that was your intention, you’d jump at the chance. giving money to those who needed it AND being able to make him angry - win win scenario.
you’d been sat in the back yard for around a hour, lightly snoring as you went in and out of a light sleep, you hadn’t heard the doorbell go the multiple times it had, being awoken when the wooden side gate hit the fence with a loud crash. “holy shit!” you shouted, pulling your sunglasses off your eyes to look towards the gate, seeing a man standing there with a large toolbox in his hand. “hey, didn’t mean to scare you doll. no one answered the doorbell and i saw the gate was unlocked so.” you got yourself up from the sun lounger, taking a couple steps towards the man so you could get a better look at him. damn he was fine, a tight white t-shirt with black cargo pants, covered in what looked like dust, white paint, other substances you could only assume he’d gotten from his line of work. a tattoo peeking out from underneath his sleeve, one on his forearm as well, steel-toe capped boots making slight clink noises as he moved on the concrete path underneath him, you thought he was too attractive to be a handyman, a ‘magic mike’ dancer sure, you give over everything in your bank account to see that little fantasy come to life. his hair slicked back and beard trimmed neatly, your eyes couldn’t help naturally scanning over his muscular, dominating frame.
“hi! you must be the handyman my husband ordered?” you asked, eyebrow raising as you put your hand out for a handshake. “well, i work for the same company, i’m Negan.” he introduced himself as he grasped your hand, meeting yours. his hand felt slightly calloused, a side effect from his job you gathered, you couldn’t deny how sexy they made you feel, being used to the smoothness of your husbands, it was a unlikely turn on. “oh right! i’m y/n. thank you for coming on such short notice, i’m absolutely sick of having cold showers, don’t know how much more i can take of it.” you joked, a small smile sat on your face. “i’ll show you where it is so you can get cracking, i bet there’s more things you’d rather be doing, so hopefully it won’t take too long.” you motioned for him to follow you, walking through the patio door.
Negan followed you into the house, unbeknownst to you, his eyes glued to your small bikini bottoms, showing off your ass in what could only be described as gorgeous. he knew it was wrong, looking at the bosses wife in such a way but he couldn’t help himself, becoming a recent single man again, he hadn’t had the time to get back into the dating scene which in turn meant he wasn’t getting any action and it was driving him nuts. he was only a man, when he’d got the call from your husband, he wasn’t expecting his wife to be home alone, dressed in a bikini, looking good enough to devour.
you got to the en suite bathroom, opening the door, showing him where the controls were. “here it is, i have no clue what’s wrong with it, it just won’t let any hot water through.” you stated, you’d never been good with stuff like this, your husband had always had people on call to fix problems around the house. “i’ll be fine doll, i’ve dealt with this problem loads of times before.” he waved it off with a laugh. “would you like anything to drink? to eat?” you questioned, putting on your best innocent smile. “i wouldn’t mind a coffee, doll but don’t make one on my account.” he beamed back at you, turning away to grab something from his toolbox, you took a look at his tight cargos as he bent down, they shaped the muscularity of his thighs perfectly, his ass looking perfect in them. “i’m sure i can rustle something up for you, how do you take it?” you asked, a slight smirk on your face from how you’d worded the question to him. “no milk, two sugars please. i like it sweet.” he bantered back, leaving you to saunter off to the kitchen.
you returned back to him, slightly boiling coffee in hand, placing it on the large counter where the sink and mirror were placed. “so, how long have you worked with my husband? i don’t think i’ve heard about you before?” you quizzed, knowing the names of your husbands many business partners and staff, you’d have remembered a unique name like Negan, you were sure. “ah not long, used to be a gym teacher before this job, needed a change and i’ve always been good with my hands.” you laughed, the image of Negan bossing around a load of pre teens making you smile. “i wouldn’t have pegged you as a gym teacher, to be honest with you!” he laughed right back at you, turning his head to look towards you. “yeah, a lot of people have told me that, i loved working with the little shits all day, gave them a run for their money, i can tell you that much.” he grimaced, realising what he’d done. “sorry doll, don’t mean to swear, pretty unprofessional of me.” you giggled again, shaking your head at him. “i don’t mind, stop worrying! it’s nice to be in the company of a man who doesn’t change himself to suit other people.” Negan took notice of that, wondering if you were talking about your husband. “well, that’s fucking me all over doll. so, what do you do?” you sighed, knowing how what you said next would come across. “housewife, i stay at home, look after the house and get taken to business dinners when i’m needed.” he noticed your drop in tone, he could sense that you weren’t really happy with that but he didn’t want to speak out of turn. “well your doing a bang up job, this place is immaculate.” you blushed, your husband had never complimented your hard work, always just expecting the house to be sorted, never thinking to thank you for your efforts. “thanks, it’s nice to hear that. i’ll let you get on, if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”
it was about a hour later when Negan had finally finished the shower, it now letting out hot water again. “you are a angel, finally i can have a nice shower!” you exclaimed, hands clapping enthusiastically, Negan laughing at your actions. “absolutely no problem doll.” he smiled at you, trying to escape his thoughts of you taking said shower, the bubbles dripping down your body as you washed them away, how good you’d look naked. “so, stop me if you have somewhere to be but i just got finished making dinner, i forgot i was alone so there is more than enough if you wanted to stay for some?” you asked sheepishly, expecting him to decline, a young single man probably had better things to do on a friday night than sit in with a boring housewife for dinner. “i’d love that doll. let me just take my tools back to my truck.” you freaked out internally, you were excited to spend some more time with this devilishly charming man, he was a breath of fresh air compared to the people you had to hang around with when you were with your husband. always other couples that were all business talk, how many sales they’d made that year and how much they were getting for their bonuses, it became exhausting over time.
you plated up the chicken florentine, along with some vegetables and sauce, bring the plate from the counter to the dining room table, the dimmed lights almost highlighting your body, you’d changed into a pretty sundress while he’d gone out to the truck, deciding a bikini wasn’t proper dinner attire, not bothering with underwear, if your plan was to go your way. placing the plates on the table, you grabbed a bottle of wine from the vast array of choice from the wine cooler and glasses for you both. you took a seat just as Negan walked back through the door, his eyes rising up as he smelt the food from the table. “fuck me doll, that smells good!” he clapped his hands together as he sat down beside you, starting to eat. “i hope you like it, i didn’t know if you ate meat but…” you trailed off. “no i do, i’m not one of those vegan pussies, don’t worry.” you laughed, his vulgar language causing a stir from within you. you poured out a glass of wine for you each before tucking in yourself. “i’ve got to say, i’ve never had such hospitality from anyone before, i’m always called to clients houses but the most i’m offered is a drink and then they leave me alone to work, this is a nice change.” you smiled, hoping you hadn’t been too much in his hair, you just couldn’t stop yourself, you wanted to know more about the intriguing man. “well, i aim to please. hospitality gets drilled into you as a housewife, it’s sort of all i’m good for.” you said, taking a sip of your wine, feeling like you were softly venting a little due to feeling comfortable in Negan’s company. “i’m sure your good at other things doll, better than the shitheads i normally encounter in this job.”
“well i understand that, i’ve met my husband’s clientele and they aren’t my type of people. always boasting about themselves, not caring about others, i hate it really.” you confessed, knowing you were opening up to much to a man you didn’t really know but you felt at ease, like you could speak freely, unlike when you were in your husbands company. you and Negan had finished eating, you finished the last of your wine, taking your plates to the dishwasher, bending down to place them inside, not remembering you had no panties on, fully on show for Negan and he’d definitely noticed. he’d almost done a double take, seeing your pretty pussy on display, a grin widening on his face as he understood the message. he got up, walking towards you as you raised up again, going to put the cooking utensils in the dishwasher when his large hands wrapped around your waist, you turned to look at him.
“you know doll, i think i should thank you for such a lovely evening. don’t you?” you looked up at him through your eyelashes, your chest heaving up and down with deep breaths as your heart began to beat irregularly at the closeness of such a gorgeous man. “i don’t know… what did you have in mind?” you questioned, your arms coming to meet at the top of his neck, wrapping around to pull him closer as your faces were inches away from each other. “i think it would be fair payment to screw your pretty little brains out, right over this countertop.” you moaned out at his statement, his hand coming to tug at your hair softly, before yanking harder, testing the waters. “i think, you should put your money where your mouth is, Negan.”
he growled, backing you up to the countertop that was behind your back, slightly pushing you against it. he captured your lips in a heated kiss, his hand still pulling at your hair as you whimpered into the kiss, silently begging for his hard touch. no one had ever been so rough with you, husband included. “i know how much you’ve wanted this, don’t think i didn’t notice how you aren’t wearing any panties, you were planning for this, weren’t you doll?” he whispered against your lips, his other hand now going underneath your skirt, dancing on your thighs before he got to your wet heat. “i don’t just offer dinner to anyone that comes to the house, you know.” you whimpered out, feeling his finger tips on your clit, moving small circles on top of it. “i’m hungry for dessert now doll, open those pretty thighs for me sweetheart.” he lifted you up onto the counter, your legs sat on his shoulders as you lifted your dress up enough for your whole pussy on display for Negan. his tongue met your hot skin, licking a stripe up your core, starting slow. your hand came down to meet his hair, gripping tightly around the strands that had fallen loose from his slicked back style. you moaned out, not used to the feeling of having such a skilled man between your legs, savouring every movement you felt him make. so methodical and well thought.
he sucked on your clit harshly, you squeezing his head slightly as your thighs contorted together, trying desperately to grind yourself closer to his tongue, chasing the blissfully sinful feeling that was racing through your body. “fuck-fuck! Negan, i’m not- going to last much longer if you keep doing that! fuck!” you panted and whined at the impending arrival of your orgasm, he chuckled at your confession, pulling away from you to back up. “i want to feel you doll, i want to feel you clench around my dick, turn around for me.” he purred, letting your stumbling legs fall back onto the ground as you turned to face the counter, your nipples standing erected through the thin material of the dress, contrasting against the cold marble.
he dropped his cargo pants, letting them fall down to his ankles, his impressively large piece now hanging out, you felt the bulbous tip playing around on your entrance, running up and down your folds at Negan’s movements. he finally entered you, holding a tight grip on your hips, nails slightly digging into your soft flesh, letting your pussy stretch out to accommodate his girth. he pulls out, and slides back in with little to no hesitation, finding a happy pace between rough and soft. you moan out, one hand coming to wrap around your throat as he moved his pace to more rough. “fuck doll, you fit me so well- taking me so good baby.” you whined out again. “please, please! harder! i need you, Negan- fuck!” he grinned at your begging, leaving your lips like a pretty song. he obliged, upping the ante to absolutely rock you.
“RING! RING!”
you gasped, pulling your head up from the counter to see the light illuminating from the landline phone situated near the window, your husbands name on the caller id.
“fuck, fuck! stop i need to answer him!” you tried to manoeuvre your body to grab the phone that was finger tips away from you, pushing your body closer before negan reached out over you to grab it.
“better answer it before he gets suspicious dollface.” he clicked the green button, passing it down to you, your face bright red with nervousness.
“hey-hey honey.” you breathed out, finding it hard not to make pleasurable sounds while Negan was still fucking you rough, you could barely talk with his hand still grasped around your throat. he showed no mercy.
“i just got to my hotel, did Negan manage to fix the shower?” your husband asked, you allowed a small grin to peak out on your face, thanking god your husband couldn’t see you right now. “yeah, he did a really good job, such a nice guy!” you drabbled on, hoping he wouldn’t ask many more questions, fearing you couldn’t stay quiet for much longer. “that’s great, so i’m going to try and get some sleep before the big meeting tomorrow. just wanted to let you know i got here okay. i love you.” he said, you almost dropped the phone from how rough your stomach was hitting the side of the counter, Negan relishing in the predicament you’d found yourself in. “ok-okay honey. i love you t-too.” you gasped as Negan proceeded to smack your ass hard, the sting catching you off guard, making it harder to find your words for your husband. “are you okay? you don’t sound too well?” you rolled your eyes into the back of your head, wishing he’d just fuck off so you didn’t have the anxiety of having to string sentences together. “yeah i’m fine, think i’m just a bit ill. i’ll l-let you get some sleep. love you. bye.” you quickly got out, pressing the red end call button, slinging the phone off the counter, the object hitting the ground with a smack. “you are such a bastard.” you slightly laughed with another moan. “didn’t want him worrying about his dear wife now did we doll? thank you for the five star review though, i appreciate it.”
the wet sounds still echoed around the room, you could feel yourself getting ever so closer to what you knew would be a world shattering climax. “fuck, i’m so so close, please! fuck!” Negan held you firmer in place, his hips snapping against your behind, his dick filling you up to the brim. “let go doll, come all over my dick.” that was all the permission you needed, you let yourself climax, sobbing in pleasure, waves of pleasure rippling through you, nearly too intense for your body to handle it. you cried out his name, your fingernails digging into your own palms as you circled your hips, riding out your orgasm.
Negan wasn’t too far behind, he couldn’t help but spill inside you, quickly pulling out to finish the rest on your now red glistening ass, from the countless spankings he’d given you. you both almost collapsed, breathless, unable to get your heart rates back to normal for the time being. Negan held you to his chest, your back meeting his torso in a warm embrace, chests heaving. you felt the sticky ropes of his seed on your dress, making it stick to your ass as you licked your lips to regain some moisture back as they’d gone dry from all your moaning and whining. his hands ran up and down your body, coming to play with your breasts over the material.
“fuck doll, do you have any more repairs for me to do? because i would gladly fix every goddamn thing in this house for this again.” you laughed, turning around to look at him, face beat red from the strenuous actions you’d both participated in. you reached behind him and pulled open one of the cabinets behind his head, the wood snapping with the force, taking it off its hinges so it hung off.
“whoops. you might need to take a look at that.”
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emodaryls · 1 month
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Little one
Summary: teen reader! Daryl finds you lost in a shopping center, he decides to take you back to Alexandria. You find Daryl to be a potential father figure!!
Word count: 2216
warnings: slight cursing, mentions of blood
A/n: this isn’t cg Daryl but more of father figure Daryl? I’m thinking of making a second part cus it feels unfinished… anyway this is my second fic umm I still don’t know everything abt writing so it might be bad ?!?!? Ok enjoy ❤️
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Daryl was riding his motorcycle to an abandoned shopping center, desperate to find medical supplies. He parks his bike near a tree a short distance away from the shopping center, getting leaves and fallen tree branches to cover and hide it. He takes his crossbow off his shoulder, double checking it to make sure its loaded with a bolt. Upon entering the building, he immediately heads towards the pharmacy. He makes sure to be quiet in order to not attract any of the undead that may be wandering around. As he arrives, he rummaged through cabinets, drawers, and boxes.
"Dammit, already raided." He grumbles to himself in a low, hushed voice. He turns around with a quiet sigh, getting ready to leave. Just as he heads towards the exit of the pharmacy he hears a small crunch. Quickly turning around, he heads towards the sound to investigate, his crossbow at the ready.
"In the corner of the pharmacy, there you are. Covered in what might be a mix of walker blood and your blood. Dirt covers your worn and torn clothing, and you look up at him with wide, terrified eyes. Daryl senses your fear and his eyes soften a bit.
"Hey... who are ya? Are ya alright?" He speaks in a calmer tone, his voice still having his gruff charm. He lowers his crossbow slightly, but still keeps it ready. You don't respond, you just continue to look up at him in fear. Daryl sighs and lowers his crossbow completely. He feels bad for pointing it at you, a lost teenager who's probably scared out of your mind. You likely mean no harm.
"Are ya... lost? Do ya need any help?" He continues. "Look, I uh, I got a group... they can help ya. They're good people." He's always been weary when revealing something like that to someone he just met, but come on, you're just a kid who probably needs help.
You fidget with your hands out of nervousness, fingers twiddling around. You take a deep breath and speak with a shaking voice.
"I'm lost.. I-I lost everyone.. I'm so scared..."
Poor kid.
"I don't know where I am, I just want my parents back!”
You start to cry, tears running down your dirty and blood stained cheeks. Daryl feels terrible. Shifting from one foot to the other, he thinks about taking you back to Alexandria to meet the rest of the group and probably live there. He thinks a little while longer, then makes his decision.
"I'll take ya back with me. I got a real nice place I stay at... there's food, clean water," He gets down to one knee to get to your level. "There's uh, nice housing, nice people. There's also other kiddos yer age too, Ya could make some friends." He looks up at you, chewing on the inside of his cheek. You stare right back at him, a look on your face as if you're considering it. You then nod your head as you wipe your nose on your sleeve, sniffling. "I wanna go with you..."
Daryl's slightly taken aback, but he recomposes himself.
"Are ya sure?" He asks, and you nod. "I'm sure... I wanna go with you."
After a few moments of silence, Daryl nods and stands up. He reaches out a hand to you which you take, and he helps you up. "Alright then," he sighs. "Let's go." You two begin to walk outside the pharmacy and to the exit of the shopping center. The dirt and debris crunch under your feet and the setting sun shines brightly. It’s almost nighttime, and the night chill is already slowly starting to settle in.
You follow him to where he had parked his motorcycle, standing behind him as he moves aside all the leaves and branches he hid it with. Daryl stands up the bike and gets on it, kicking back the stand. You get on behind him, wrapping your eyes around him. After he makes sure you're ready, Daryl revs the engine and the bike begins to move, gradually getting faster.
You both ride through the streets surrounded by woods, the wind whipping through your hair. You rest your head on Daryl's back, finding the wind and high speeds oddly soothing.
Time flies by fast and before you know it, you're at the gates of 'Alexandria Safe-Zone'. The guard at the gates lets Daryl in, and he can feel all the eyes on himself and you. Daryl ignores it, not wanting to deal with anything at the moment. He slowly rides the bike to the house he stays at. He knows he'll be questioned sooner or later about who he brought back with him, but he'll do it with it eventually.
He parks the motorcycle in front of the house and kicks the stand into place, getting off. He helps you get off the bike as well.
"Hey, uh, kid," he starts, scratching the back of his head as you two walk up his porch steps. "Ya can stay with me if ya want, for as long as ya want. I have a spare room ya can stay in. It's got a nice bed and everythin'." He unlocks the door and pushes it open. The house has a warm and cozy atmosphere. It's nicely furnished, but he didn't furnish it himself. All of the houses in Alexandria are pre-furnished as it was originally a quarantine safe zone for politicians when the outbreak first started.
Daryl puts down his crossbow and slips off his boots, leaving them by the front door. You copy him, not wanting to break any unspoken 'no shoes' rule that he may have. Daryl walks over to the couch, plopping down on it and sighing. You do the same, sitting at the corner of it. You bring your legs to your chest, making yourself feel small.
It's a new environment for you, you've pretty much gotten used to being in the woods all alone, having to be stealthy and dodge walkers left to right. But the change is nice, feels a little like how the world was before. It'll just take a bit to get used to.
You can finally get a good look at the man who rescued you. He has a rugged appearance, but for some of reason you don't find him very intimidating. You feel safe around him, like he has a calming fatherly presence.
Then, you break the silence, speaking in a shy voice. "Um, what's your name? I don't think you ever told me."
Daryl looks over to you, eyes softening once more. "Daryl." he responds. "Daryl Dixon." You nod and go back to looking around the house from where you are. You stare into space for a little while before another thought comes up.
"Could you show me where the spare room that you mentioned earlier is?"
Daryl turns his head to you once again and nods. He gets off the couch with a slight grunt. You stand up as well, following him as he leads you up the stairs. He stops in front of a door and opens it, holding it open for you. You walk in and take a look around the room. It's nothing super fancy, but it's well furnished and simple. The moon shines through the window at a perfect angle, dimly lighting up the room in a soft and dreamy glow.
You walk over to the bed that's placed beside the window and sit on the edge of it. "I'm tired..." you murmur sleepily, laying down on the bed. You untuck the blanket and pull it up to your chest. You snuggle into the covers, curling into an almost fetal position. Daryl chuckles to himself, watching you get comfortable. Daryl feels this weird, fatherly urge to protect you, to make sure you're cared for and loved. He has a feeling you two will get along pretty well.
You soon fall asleep, and he walks out of the room, shutting the door behind him. He goes over to his own room, getting ready for bed himself. It's been a long day, riding out to an abandoned shopping center for medical supplies and instead coming back with a lost, orphaned teenager in need of care. He settles into bed, pulling the blankets over himself and falling asleep.
.
.
.
In the morning, Daryl goes downstairs to make his breakfast. You've beaten him to it, already eating orange slices on the couch. You hear his steps and turn your head around, looking up at him.
"Hey..." You mutter, then going back to eating your orange. "Hey." Daryl responds, brushing his hair back a bit and going over to the kitchen. He grabs a glass of water and makes himself some oatmeal that he found during his last supply run. Once its ready, he pours half of it into a separate bowl to share with you. Daryl walks over to the couch and sits beside you, placing the bowl on the coffee table in front of you.
"Ya should eat some more," he starts, grabbing a spoonful of oatmeal and eating it. He waits to finish until continuing. "Getting some oatmeal in ya is good, especially if ya haven't eaten in a while."
You look over at him and then to the bowl in front of you. You set down your orange slices on a napkin and grab the bowl.
"Thanks..." you responded, eating a spoonful. You finish it up pretty quickly, which makes sense. You haven't eaten a proper meal in who knows how long. You eventually finish eating both the oatmeal and orange slices, and you settle back onto the couch. Suddenly, you remember that you're still dirty and need to clean up. Your face flushes out of embarrassment. Have you really been looking like that this whole time?
"Do you have a shower that I could, uh, use?" You asked Daryl in a timid voice, now feeling hyper aware of your dirty appearance.
"Yeah, to the right of yer room." He replied, nodding his head towards the stairs. You nod your head in gratitude, getting up from the couch and going to the bathroom.
.
.
.
That shower was possibly the most refreshing one you've had in a while. There was warm water, soaps, and possibly the fluffiest towels you’ve ever seen. But now you have another problem, clothes. The only ones you have were the torn, dirt covered ones you've been living in for the past few months or maybe even over a year. You wrap a towel around yourself and crack open the bathroom door just enough to peek your head out. "Daryl?" You call out, face flushing from embarrassment once again. "Could I borrow some clothes?" There's a moment of silence before you hear him shout back a "yeah", and you close the door, waiting. You wait for a few minutes until you hear the sound of his heavy footsteps, cloth falling on the floor, and then a knock. After that, he walks away. You wait a few seconds before cracking open the door and taking the clothes he left for you. It's a black shirt with a faded metal band logo printed in white, the pants are dark blue and denim. They're definitely going to be too big and baggy for you, but you wear it anyway.
You tighten the waistband of the jeans to fit you better, and you come out, hair wrapped in a towel. You walk down the stairs, damp feet pattering against the wooden floor. Daryl's still sitting on the couch, but in a more lounged position. You sit close to him and take a breath.
You begin to speak. “Um... this might be a little weird, but to me, you feel like a father." You tell him, and his eyes widen. But he looks touched. "We just met yesterday, but it feels really comforting to be around you." You twiddle your fingers, looking a little embarrassed. But Daryl smiles. It’s subtle, but there’s still a smile on his face.
"Tha's awfully sweet." His voice is softer than you've ever heard before. "I've never had a little one of my own, always kind of wanted to, though. I just don't think i'd be a good dad."
You smile at him, chuckling. "I think you would. You sort of have this really fatherly presence. It was unusually easy for me to warm up to you." You shift close to him, resting your head on his shoulder. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. You smile more. "Maybe I could be your little one. You can like... adopt me, or something."
Daryl chuckles again. "We'll see, kid. We'll see."
You look up at him and then go back to snuggling. You curl up beside him, getting so very comfortable. You feel safe in his embrace, you never want to leave.
“Can we see maybe… now?” You ask in a playful way, looking up at him again. Daryl looks down at you with a slightly wider smile, shaking his head.
“Well, I-… yeah,” he sighs. “Alright, yer gonna be my little one. I’m never gonna let anything happen to ya.” He holds you a little tighter. “I might not be the best daddy, but I’m sure as hell gonna try.”
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hottpinkpenguin · 1 year
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Joel Miller X Fem!Reader - Last of Us - Part 6
A/N: read part 1 ! read part 2 ! read part 3 ! read part 4! read part 5! Taglist: @midgetpottermills @casssiopeia @flyingmushroomss @amethystwonders11 @hiphopdancer101universe @kiszkawagnerwhore @littleshadow17 @rh1nestonecowg1rl @alm0501 @ch4rcuterie @lodeddiperrodrick @amandalove1355 @laurathefahrradsattel @moshpot24x @middleof-thenight @kettlechips3 @happymakercollectorsworld @alainabooks143 @mikariell95 @superbreadsoul @twd-rocks-blog @livmadsen11 @sage-bun @emmy626 @somenerdyuser @vitavenio
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Warnings: dark themes; substance abuse; post-apocalyptic dystopia; death of reader's minor child; probably a lot of non-canon details since I've never played the game; not proofread; spoilers if you haven't seen the show/played the game Word Count: 1824 Abbreviations: QZ = quarantine zone; FDRA "Fedra" = Federal Disaster Response Agency
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Joel brought the radio closer to him, studying the frayed wires and noting the burnt out coil at the top. His brows furrowed in confusion as he tilted the radio to get a clearer angle in the morning sun. After trying to fall back to sleep for hours, Joel had finally succumbed to the sunshine and risen from the bed he shared with Tessa an hour or two after sunrise. It was the earliest morning he’d seen in weeks, and it reminded him of why he so often slept in. The sun was too bright, too warm and carefree to match the shades of gray he lived in. 
With a heavy sigh, Joel took another healthy swig of coffee mixed with whiskey. He felt the heat of the liquid and the burn of alcohol all the way down his throat. He put his mug back down on the workbench in the old mechanics shop below where he and Tessa slept.
“Where the fuck have you been all morning?”
Tessa entered the shop in a swarm of anger, the door to the street outside slamming open and slamming shut again behind her. She’d left shortly after he’d awoken, presumably to organize whatever smuggling run she had planned for later that night.  
“Right here, where I always am,” he drawled back. The whiskey in his morning coffee took just enough of an edge off his anger to keep him from taking Tessa’s bait.
“Yeah, well, I could’ve really used your help. Shit’s going fucking sideways around here and all you’re doing is holed up, drinking yourself til you’re pickled and playing around with a fucking radio!”
Joel shot Tessa a dark look, but didn’t move from his seat in front of the workbench. 
“Aren’t you going to say something? Anything?!”
He shrugged, swapping out the screwdriver for a pair of needle-nosed pliers and keeping his face a mask of indifference.
“What do you want me to say?”
In truth, Joel didn’t care what Tessa wanted him to say. Between the terrible sleep he’d gotten last night and the hangover that he was now layering with a new buzz, he wasn’t sure he could name anything that he did care about at that moment.
“Fuck, Joel. You can be a real asshole sometimes, you know that?”
Tessa’s anger was beginning to deflate, bitterness taking its place. 
“Look around you, Tessa. It’s the end of the goddamn world. What do you want me to do, make you breakfast in bed and fuck you on our granite kitchen counter while the kids are at soccer?” 
Tessa didn’t reply. He could feel her eyes boring holes in the side of his head. A very distant part of Joel knew he should hate himself for taking out his own misery on someone else. But mostly, he didn’t care. He felt hollow like an empty well, and even drinking didn’t hit the bottom anymore. 
A few moments of hateful silence stretched between them, the only sound was the soft metallic clink of Joel’s pliers at work on the radio’s wires.
“That explosion last night? That was Marlene and her crew. They got held up in a showdown with a horde of infected and blew up a propane truck.” 
Joel couldn’t imagine why Tessa imagined he’d care. Marlene and the Fireflies were always taking unimaginable risks “for the cause”. Joel knew Marlene the way anyone who lived on the fringes of QZ society knew her. He didn’t care for the woman, although he had to admire her grit. The Fireflies were a losing cause if ever he’d seen one, but she’d kept their ill-fated rebellion limping along for years longer than he’d ever thought possible. She probably could have been someone worth a damn before the outbreak. 
Tessa’s eyes were still glued to him, analyzing him the way a torturer would watch a prisoner during an interrogation. Joel tried to see the connection between what she’d just told him and whatever reaction she was watching for. 
He turned to her, dropping the radio and his pliers in irritation.
“What am I supposed to say to that?” he challenged, his tone flat. He couldn’t even feign interest; he only wanted her to leave. The quiet and his broken radio were better companions.
A glimmer of triumph sparked in Tessa’s eyes. She smirked softly.
“Apparently your old bed warmer was with them.”
Maybe it was the whiskey, maybe it was the lack of sleep, but he didn’t register her meaning for a few breaths. That self-satisfied glint in Tessa’s eyes didn’t dim.
“Y/N. She was out with Marlene last night. Didn’t make it back, so I heard.”
The bottom of Joel’s stomach fell out as his understanding clicked into place. He felt his fingers dig into the skin of his palms as he struggled to maintain a semblance of composure under Tessa’s gloating gaze. 
“K.”
It was all Joel could manage. His grip on himself was slipping fast. 
“Choke on that, asshole.” 
Tessa left, the door slamming on her way out. Joel barely heard her walk away, his addled thoughts coalescing on one and only one thing.
Marlene. 
He had to find her. If you had been out there… if you were still out there, or worse… Joel would pull Boston apart brick by brick with his bare fucking hands if he had to. It’d be easier - and faster - if he knew where to start. If something had happened to you, god forbid…
He stumbled up from the workbench, careening out into the street, his body moving faster than he could stitch his thoughts together. He had a pretty good idea where to find Marlene, and he hoped for her sake that she could tell him where you were. He didn’t trust himself to hear anything other than news of your safety. 
*****
Marlene slumped sideways against the concrete wall of the old subway tunnel they called the T in Boston. Bending over, she emptied her guts into the trickling water running down the center of the tunnel. At this point, she was throwing up blanks, just sour-tasting stomach acid. She wasn’t sure if it was the adrenaline from last night’s narrow escape or if there was something more serious going on. She didn’t have time to stop and wonder.
Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she willed herself forward, hugging the wall. She’d been walking - a generous term for the limping shuffle she’d been forced to do by a broken ankle - for what had to be close to eight hours at this point. Her body was weak from dehydration, shock, and hunger. But she hadn’t stopped, knowing that was a death sentence. And finally, mercifully, she saw it. An old maintenance ladder hanging down into the empty space in the tunnel. Right above that ladder was the old MBTA garage. Firefly territory. She’d made it home. 
Ignoring the pain ripping up her leg from her swollen ankle, she shuffled forward, arms outstretched greedily for the ladder. She fell against it, the steel rattling and echoing in the cement tunnel that the Fireflies used to sneak in and out of the QZ. 
She gasped a few breaths, wondering if she was simply imagining that the air tasted a little fresher here than the rest of the dank tunnel. Looking up, she calculated at least eighteen feet of ladder before it disappeared into darkness just above the ceiling of the T tunnel. Up there was the garage. The Fireflies. Salvation. 
As close as she was, Marlene knew her ankle wouldn’t handle the climb, not alone. She was worried that she’d pass out halfway up and fall off. There wouldn’t be any soft landing for her. No, the only option for her was to hope and pray that someone would hear her down here. She couldn’t go back - the entry was blocked by what remained of the horde - and she couldn’t go forward. She’d memorized the old T maps of Boston: she knew this tube dead-ended a half mile farther up, with no exits. This was it. It was now or never. 
“Hey! HEY! Is anybody up there? HELP!” Mustering what little remained of her strength, she rattled on the ladder, projecting her parched voice into the darkness above. 
“DOWN HERE! SOMEBODY!” 
Marlene wasn’t sure how long she yelled for. Her voice was almost gone before she saw a fluorescent light flick on at the top of the ladder. Weak with relief, she felt tears stream down her cheeks. 
“Thank God! Please, you’ve gotta help me. I can’t climb.”
Before she could finish, Marlene saw a dark shape blot out the light from above. It took her a second to realize it was someone climbing down to her. Looking up from underneath, all she could make out were the soles of boots - men’s boots, she thought - and a sturdy pack on the person’s back. The kind of gear you wore when you went out into the open city. 
Marlene took a few halting steps back from the ladder to give the man enough space to climb down. He did, skipping the last few rungs and landing hard on his feet. He was agile, strong. Marlene couldn’t place his silhouette in her mind, couldn’t think of a face that matched the thick, salt-and-pepper hair. 
“Where is she, Marlene?” 
His voice was dark and familiar. 
Joel Miller turned to face her, his expression hard like black granite. It had been almost a year since she’d last seen him at a buy she’d arranged with Tessa. He’d changed, something darker in the back of his eyes. It almost frightened her.
“Where is she,” he repeated, snapping Marlene out of her own thoughts.
“Who?” she replied. 
“Y/N.”
Marlene didn’t know how Joel Miller knew you. She thought better of asking him. 
“I don’t know, Joel. We got split up. It was… it was fucking chaos last night.” 
Joel’s jaw tightened, his fingers squeezing the barrel of the rifle he had slung across his chest.
“Last place you saw her.” 
Marlene heard voices above her. Someone called out her name in recognition. She longed to call back, but something in Joel’s eyes seemed to catch her words in her throat.
“You’ll never make it.”
“Like hell I won’t.”
“Joel, it’s a fucking horde, the biggest I’ve ever seen. You’ll never get through, it’s a suicide mission.” 
“Marlene, I won’t fucking ask again.”
His patience was wearing thin. Marlene didn’t miss the subtle way he angled the muzzle of his gun in her direction. 
“Take this tunnel three blocks south. You’ll come to a five-way tunnel crossing. Take the southeast branch and walk another six blocks. You’ll see a ventilation shaft. Right past it, there’s an emergency access door. Take that exit. It’ll spit you out eight blocks north of where I lost her.” 
Without a word, Joel Miller turned on his heels and walked off into the dark.
read part 7 here **let me know if you want to be tagged in future chapters! ty to everyone showing this series so much love! &lt;;33
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