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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 1 year

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Words: 7,335 (oooh a big one!) Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female!Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: S10/S11, The Reapers Warnings: mostly FEELS A/N: All gifs made by me. :) This is Part 6 of a series! Find all the parts on my pinned post, the Master List! Summary: Daryl takes DJ out for a bike ride and later he and Y/N head out to find desperately needed supplies for Alexandria.

Previous Chapter - Part 5

“Alrigh’,” Daryl said, pulling his crossbow from its place on his bike. “Yer up, boss,” he drawled with a smile. DJ was standing there with his recurve bow in hand looking eager. “Yer mom said ya know how to track and hunt. So, where are we headin’?”

“Really?”

“Mhm,” Daryl nodded. “’M followin’ you. Hopefully to some breakfast...”

DJ’s expression turned more serious and he glanced around and started to head into the trees, checking back over his shoulder as if to make sure Daryl was really coming with. They moved through the brush in silence for a few minutes, and Daryl watched curiously as DJ would pause here and there. Suddenly he turned back to look over his shoulder and there was a bright smile on his face. “Rabbit!” he whispered, pointing ahead.

Daryl leaned around him and could see a small game trail going through the brush and brambles. He gave DJ a nod as if to say “Go on” and he did.

Before long, the trail led into a small meadow, really hardly more than just an opening in the trees. The grass with thick and folded over on itself, blanketed with moisture still in the early morning.

The cottontail was sitting on the edge of the trees across the tufted hillocks of grass, chewing on a tuft of dandelion leaves. Daryl watched as DJ readied his bow and started to step silently toward the rabbit until he could get an angle when he could make the shot.

But he took one step too close and there was a flash of brown and a puff of fluffy white tail and the rabbit was gone in an instant. DJ’s shoulders sagged. He turned and looked back at Daryl, disappointment painted all over his face.

“Hey—s’alrigh’. He ain’t goin’ too far in this brush. Look, rabbits are prey animals, right? Their first defense is to freeze and hope the predator, us, don’t see ‘em. So, if ya want to get closer to ‘em, instead of walkin’ straight at ‘em, ya wanna go kinda sideways, at an angle. That way they’ll think ya don’t see ‘em and they’ll sit frozen longer. C’mon. Let’s try again.”

DJ nodded and Daryl smiled at the intent and serious look on his face as he turned around again and started the slow, methodical task of finding the rabbit again. He did, and this time he made the shot.

He turned around, beaming up at Daryl who was smiling back at him, a swell of pride in his chest. “That’s it. Ya got it. Nice shot, bud!”

DJ went and retrieved his game, holding it up by the back feet. “Is this enough for Mom for breakfast?”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah. But ain’t enough for me too,” he drawled. “C’mon. Let’s see if we can get a couple more for everybody. And I’ll set some new snares as we go. Know how to do that?” DJ nodded. “Good. Ya can help me. Nice work, bud,” he said kindly, patting a hand down on his shoulder. DJ seemed to beam at that.

With a little luck, they were able to get two more rabbits and also set several snares to check for game later that day when you and Daryl went back out. Daryl had the kills on his game stringer, slung over his shoulder as they headed back in the direction of the bike. He thought he could feel DJ glancing up at him and he finally met his eyes and gave him a thoughtful look.

DJ seemed to take it as an invitation to ask whatever he was thinking. “When did you learn to ride a motorcycle?” he asked.

“Well—I was pretty young. My big brother had a bike. He taught me how to ride. Then it wasn’t long before I wanted to get my own.”

“Hmm,” DJ hummed thoughtfully, looking down at his boots as he stepped carefully over some thorny brambles. “You have a big brother?” His eyes met Daryl’s again.

“I did. Yeah… I did,” Daryl answered, nodding. “He, uhh—he ain’t around anymore. He ain’t been around for a long time. He was gone even before I—” What should he call what happened to you and him? “—before I lost yer mom.”

“Do you miss him?”

Daryl had to think about this for a long moment. “I do miss him sometimes. He wasn’t always the best big brother but he was the only one I had, ya know?”

DJ hummed thoughtfully again, and it was then that Daryl recognized that this mannerism was identical to his own. This brought another smile to his face.

“What was his name?” asked DJ, so intent on Daryl that he neglected to step over some downed tree limbs and stumbled. Daryl reflexively reached out and caught him gently but firmly by the upper arm, preventing him from falling.

“Ya alrigh’?” DJ nodded. Daryl let go of his arm as he straightened up. “His name was Merle,” he answered.

“I would have had an Uncle Merle,” DJ said thoughtfully. “I did have an Uncle Merle.”

And this thought, this picture in his mind of his brother as an uncle, brought a gruff laugh out of Daryl. DJ gave him another questioning look. “S’just a funny image—my brother as an uncle,” Daryl explained. “He wouldn’ta believed it…”

DJ didn’t ask anything else for quite a while but the thoughtful expression stayed on his face as he walked beside Daryl. Finally, they arrived back at the bike, and Daryl was strapping the gear down and stowing their kills, and DJ spoke again. Daryl was bent over fiddling with a strap when DJ’s voice sounded behind him. It snapped him up to his feet.

“Were you looking for us?” DJ asked. His face was uncertain, almost suspicious this time. “I mean, me and Mom.”

Daryl brushed a hand back through his wavy hair and stopped right in front of DJ. He knelt down on one knee so he was eye-level with him. “I was always lookin’,” he said.

DJ’s brow furrowed. Daryl thought maybe he was holding back tears. “Then why didn’t you find us? If you’re so good at—at tracking and fighting and everything, then why didn’t you find us?”

Daryl gulped, a wave of crushing guilt upwelling in his chest, pressing on his lungs, stopping them from drawing full breaths. He shook his head slightly. “I lost the trail. I—I didn’t have a trail to track.” He stared down at his own hands, fiddling anxiously. “Listen to me DJ.” He met his son’s eyes again. “There ain’t nothin’ in this world that I want more than to be able to go back and stop all that from happenin’—stop gettin’ separated from you and yer mom, be able to protect both of ya from everythin’ bad that ya’ve ever had to go through. Nothin’ I want more. Nothin’. I’d give up anythin’ to make that happen. But I can’t do that… It just ain’t how things work. But ya can bet I’mma make up for it now as best I can. I promise ya that. And when I make a promise, I dun ever break it. Okay?”

DJ sniffled and blinked away the tears in his eyes and nodded. “Okay,” he said quietly.

“Alrigh’?” Daryl put a gentle hand on his shoulder, and DJ nodded again. “Alrigh’. Let’s go give yer mom her breakfast. Ready for another ride? Helmet.”

DJ pulled on the helmet and tightened the chin strap. Daryl smiled at him fondly. “Can you go extra fast this time?” DJ asked and Daryl laughed again.

“You got it, bud.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

You heard the rumbling of Daryl’s bike before you saw it and you climbed to your feet. He looked up to see you waiting outside the garage with a megawatt smile on your face that had his heart jumping like someone had connected it to jumper cables and turned the ignition. The sight of DJ and Daryl on that bike together… it warmed you in the best way, better than a cozy fire, better than hot chocolate—it warmed you from the inside out and the heat trickled into your veins and spread through you, head to toe.

“Well,” you said, still grinning and stepping toward them as Daryl helped DJ off the bike. “How’d it go?”

DJ was bursting with enthusiasm. “We went so fast on the bike, Mom! And then when we went over this bump—” he made a dramatic whoosh sound, “and it felt like I was gonna fly off the seat and—”

You were laughing at his excitement. You hadn’t seen him so brimming with life since before your home had fallen. “Sounds like a good ride.”

“Hey!” Daryl called from back by his motorcycle. “Aren’t ya gonna show yer mom what we brought for her?”

“Oh, yeah!” DJ ran back and Daryl handed him the game stringer with the three rabbits on it. He rushed back to you, holding it up proudly. “We got you breakfast!”

“Oh, all for me?” you asked, grinning. “Wow. How lucky am I? Thank you,” you said, accepting it from DJ who rushed back into the house to put his pack and bow away. You caught Daryl’s eyes as he came toward you. “Thank you,” you said again, pointedly.

Your eyes were so soft and the subtle pout of your closed lips was distracting as hell. He ducked his head and nodded, scratching at a non-existent itch. “Yeah…” he murmured. “Where are the kids?” he asked.

“Over at Rosita’s already,” you said, following him in. “She said they can stay there as long as we’re gone. If they need a break, they’ll send them over to annoy Jerry.”

“I dunno if it’s possible to annoy Jerry,” Daryl drawled. “Hey—let’s get some food in ya,” he said, taking back the rabbits and heading to the kitchen.

“And you,” you said, following him in.

Daryl immediately set about cleaning the game and you watched the skillful and quick work of his knife and hands with another flush of heat that was hard to ignore. “What’d ya get up to this morning?” he asked.

“Well, I took Jude and RJ over to Rosita’s. Cuddled Coco so she could take a shower,” you laughed. “Then they stayed there to play with Hershel and Gracie so I went and found Carol to see how I could be helpful.”

“Mmm,” Daryl hummed. “Yeah? I hope ya ain’t workin’ too hard yet. Ya had quite a time out there lately, ya know. Wouldn’t kill ya to rest a bit.”

You smiled at him and watched how his tongue was poking out of the corner of his mouth as he worked. “Do you ever rest?” you countered. “I mean, really rest.” He hummed a non-committal sound. “Exactly,” you said, stepping farther in and filling a pot with some water at the sink. You automatically started adding the bones and scraps to it and then opening and closing cabinets until you found some seasonings.

Daryl glanced back at you over his shoulder as you were reading the labels on the little jars of spices and herbs. “What’re ya doin’?”

“Huh? Oh. Making bone broth. Obviously,” you retorted, shooting him a look with that little smirk he fucking went head over heels for. “We need to use every bit of these so we can to get some more nutrients into everyone.”

Daryl was stirred by how you seemed to just slip into his life so automatically and just fit again. You did little things, like taking over the task of using the bones and scraps without him having to tell you a damn thing. And it felt like you’d always been there somehow, that’s how easy it was, despite being keenly aware of the fact that he’d been missing you just about every fucking second practically for the last ten years… “Well, ain’t enough for ev’rybody but at least for the kids,” he drawled. “Could really use a couple deer but there ain’t any sign of ‘em still since that damn horde came through.”

You set the pot on the stove, ready to go once the last of the scraps were added. “That’s why we’re heading out,” you said with a sigh. “We’ll find something. I know we will.”

“Yeah…” Daryl drawled. He went to the sink and washed off his hands before glancing over at you where you were leaned up beside the stove. “Ya know ya ain’t gotta head out with me,” he said, ducking his head. “If ya wanted to stay here in Alexandria, ‘m sure there’s plenty to do ‘round here.”

Your brow furrowed. “Do you not want me to come along?”

Daryl’s eyes went slightly wide. “W—what? No. That ain’t it—I—I just—Ya know, how shit is out there and—”

You cocked your head at him. “Yeah, I do know how it is. That’s exactly why I’m coming with, Daryl,” you said earnestly. You watched as his cheeks flushed and he ducked his head again, nodding a little.

“Can ya do me a favor?” he murmured.

“Name it.”

“Could ya just—s’gonna sound stupid but could ya just, uhh—just say my name again.”

There was a pang in your chest as you looked at him as his blue eyes lifted to meet yours again. They were almost pleading and more than a little hesitant. You gave him a sad sort of smile and crossed the kitchen to him, gently grabbing on to one side of his jacket. “Daryl Dixon. Daryl. Daryl. Daryl,” you said, a brighter smile growing on your face each time you said it.

His eyes flickered between yours, even more wide now with you so close. He gulped at the tightness in his throat. “I didn’t realize how much I missed hearin’ ya say my name,” he said softly. You felt the sudden sting of tears in your eyes and goosebumps tingled from electricity up your back.

“Hey, Mom?” DJ was in the doorway when you turned around abruptly, blinking the glassiness away.

“Yeah? Hey, do I get a hug?” you asked him. He obliged and hugged you tightly around the waist. “Thank you. What’s up?” you asked, ruffling his wavy hair.

“Can I go see what Hershel is doing?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah. He’s over at Aunt Rosita’s with Jude and RJ and their friend Gracie. I can walk you over.” You glanced up at Daryl.

“I got this. Breakfast’ll be ready by the time yer back,” he drawled, one corner of his mouth flicking up.

_ _ _ _ _ _

“It’s always hard leaving them,” you mused aloud. You and Daryl had your gear gathered and stowed and were heading over to Rosita’s again to say goodbye to the kids.

“Yeah,” Daryl drawled. “They’ve all known enough of people leavin’, one way or another.” He thought of Rick and Michonne and felt a familiar knot in his stomach.

Maggie was coming down the steps after picking up Hershel when you arrived. She smiled warmly at the two of you. “Rosita said you two are headin’ out. Lookin’ for supplies.”

You nodded. “Probably be away a couple days.”

“Alright. I’ll look in on the kids too while you’re both gone, give Rosita and Gabe a break.” She gently grasped your forearm and looked Daryl squarely in the eyes. “Be careful.”

You nodded again. “We will. Don’t worry. We’re going to stay far the hell away from—from them,” you said.

Maggie nodded and her hand returned to Hershel’s shoulder. You bent down and adjusted his signature cap on his head.

“I’ll see you soon,” you said to him, the corners of your eyes were crinkled in a smile.

“Promise?” Hershel said.

“As soon as I can.”

“Hey,” Daryl held out a hand for a fist bump and Hershel grinned as they touched knuckles. “Do me a favor and watch out for RJ and yer mom, alrigh’?” Hershel nodded. “Alrigh’.”

Gabriel answered the door even before you could knock. With as reassuring words as you could offer, and plenty of hugs all around, you and Daryl got ready to leave. DJ seemed a little dejected as you broke from your hug with him.

You noticed, of course, and brushed his hair out of his eyes, your brow furrowing. “What is it, buddy?” you asked him softly.

He glanced up at you and then over at Daryl for a long moment who was distracted as he was setting RJ back on his feet. “I just got—got you back and—You know, after being in the woods and—” he stopped and pulled in a shaky breath. “You’re leaving again already.”

You wondered how much of this was about you and how much of it was about his dad. You nodded. “I know. I wish we didn’t have to go too. But things here in Alexandria are tough right now. We’re going out there so we can help everyone back here, so we can all stay here. We’ll be as fast as we can,” you reassured him.

“Can’t I come with?” he asked.

You gave him a tight smile and smoothed his hair again. “Not this time buddy. Stay here and hang with Hershel and Jude and RJ. Have fun and watch out for them. We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

He sighed. “It takes as long as it takes,” he recited.

“That’s right.” You kissed the top of his head and straightened up. Daryl was beside you a moment later and said a sweet goodbye to DJ too, thanking him for help with getting breakfast.

“I got a big ask for ya,” Daryl drawled, looking down at DJ. “Need ya to help Jude look after Dog. He can be a bit much.”

DJ brightened. “Yeah?”

“Mhm. Make sure he dun eat too much dead stuff and gets his exercise, alrigh’? Oh, and he likes to sleep on the bed,” he added with a smile. “Can ya handle that?” DJ nodded and did actually look less gloomy. “Alrigh’,” Daryl said with finality, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Hey—dun worry ‘bout yer mom, alrigh’? Remember what we talked about,” he said, referencing their talk that morning at the bike and the promise he’d made. DJ nodded again and you stooped to give him one more hug, extra tight, before you and Daryl headed outside to head back to his bike.

He felt you glancing over at him and finally looked up and caught your eyes. “What?”

“What talk was that, with DJ, that you mentioned?”

Daryl was silent for a moment. “I think that one should just stay between me and him,” he said finally, hazarding a somewhat nervous glance at you again. “He asked me somethin’ this mornin’ and—I answered best I could. Ain’t nothin’ to worry about,” Daryl said.

But instead of pressing him or being upset, you only smiled. “Keeping secrets from me already. I see how it is,” you laughed. You nodded thoughtfully though. “Alright. Then I won’t worry,” you said with a shrug. “You have any idea of where we should go look?” you asked him, your mind now turning wholly to the stressful task of finding sustenance to help heal their wounded community and get it through a bit longer. You’d seen the empty pantry with Carol and you’d walked through the damage and destruction.

“Had a thought. Take the tracks west and see what we can find. Might be a bit of a ride though, to get outta our usual area.”

“I won’t mind the ride,” you said, glancing sideways at him, a subtle smile on your lips that Daryl tried to decode. You were thinking of having your arms around him… and so was he.

It was a long ride after stopping to check the snares Daryl and DJ had set that morning (two more rabbits), and before the ride was supposed to be over, it suddenly was. Daryl’s bike sputtered and slowed to a stop. He tried to restart it but the engine had no power. You leaned forward to his side. “What’s going on?”

“Mmm,” he hummed thoughtfully, chewing on his bottom lip. “Somethin’s fucked,” he drawled, irritated. “Hang on.” He climbed off and offered you his hand to help you down. His fingers stayed around yours just a fraction longer than they needed to and you both felt it, but he quickly rerouted his attention back to the motorcycle. It wasn’t long before he spotted the problem. “This line’s punctured.” He straightened up, pushing a hand back through his hair. “Goddammit…” His blue eyes were darting around your surroundings. “We’re gonna have to find some new tubing so I can replace it. Fuck.”

He was more on edge than you would have anticipated. “Hey,” you said, touching his arm so he’d look at you. You gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s okay. We’ve got this. So, we patch up your bike, and depending on how long that takes, we just find somewhere to hole up tonight and we start fresh tomorrow.”

Daryl shifted, considering your relaxed expression and calm demeanor and he tried to convince himself to settle down, but he was having a hard time getting a hold of his swirling anxiety. Something about being out here with you, alone, it was forcing him to remember the one big thing he absolutely had to tell you, and he didn’t think he could put it off much longer, but he was absolutely terrified of what it could mean. Seeing you again, it was like having a mouth of cool water after walking through fire and ash, like washing the soot from his skin and his eyes and breathing lungfuls of sweet fresh air. And that could all disappear… He finally managed to nod and clear his throat. “Yeah. Yeah, alrigh’. Let’s see what we can find ‘round here.” With that, you both grabbed your gear off the bike and started walking down the tracks, eyes scanning through the brush and trees for buildings and vehicles. Daryl was on his guard, tense and alert, even more so than usual. His mind kept envisioning some vague threat charging through the trees right toward you. But beside him, you seemed almost at ease.

“So,” you said suddenly. “How far did you get in my book?”

Daryl chewed on his bottom lip for a moment. “I didn’t make it much past the baby pictures, to be honest. I just couldn’t stop lookin’ at him,” he drawled. “He was so small and then—those cheeks,” he laughed. You were relieved to see that his brow seemed to relax some as he turned his attention to your question. “Couldn’t stop wonderin’ how ya managed all that.” Your eyebrow lifted in a silent question. “Just—what ya already told me. Gettin’ outta the city… Bein’ alone and knowin’ ya were pregnant. Managin’ to get what ya needed so he’d be healthy and you’d be healthy…” He sighed heavily and shook his head. “Even when I told myself ya were out there, I was too afraid to think—I didn’t know what to think ‘bout the baby. So, I just… I didn’t. I mean, I did but—I think part of me felt like that was too much to ask for, for ya to be out there and okay and alive and for everythin’ with the baby to have gone alrigh’… I dunno. I know that dun make any damn sense. But I was makin’ bargains with the universe in my head a lot of the time, insane bargains…” he trailed off. “Prob’ly a good thing the universe doesn’t seem to listen to me,” he said with a wry laugh. “Mainly I just didn’t think ‘bout it. Was too hard, ya know? Us havin’ just found out and then…” he trailed off again.

“I was lucky,” you said softly, being careful to step over an uneven railroad tie.

Daryl gave you a skeptical glance. “All of us had a little luck here and there. But out here? This long? Ain’t nobody who’s just lucky around anymore. That ain’t enough. Yer smart and tough. And I know ya never quit fightin’ for DJ. Ain’t got much to do with luck.”

You fell silent again until Daryl spotted an old car through some trees and he adjusted his grip on his crossbow. “Here. This way.” You followed him off the tracks.

He immediately tossed down his stuff and popped the hood as you walked a small perimeter around the area, scanning for trouble, your bow in your hand with an arrow nocked already, just in case. It was quiet and still. Daryl was touching this and that under the hood, tugging on some tubing, deciding it was too brittle or too big, swearing under his breath. You were smiling at the scene. When you’d been apart, you often had imagined a life with him outside of this world. You’d have a little cabin somewhere and Daryl would build customs bikes and fix cars for people in town. DJ was there of course, hunting and playing in the woods, swimming in turquoise, crystal-clear lakes.

Daryl caught the smile on your face as he decided the first vehicle was useless. His heart jumped. “What’re ya smilin’ about?”

You shrugged. “I just—I always liked watching you work on bikes and stuff. It’s good to see it again, you working with your hands to solve a simple problem.”

Daryl hoped he wasn’t blushing red and let out a dry laugh. “Not sure how simple any of it is out here. Hopefully we can find what we need.”

“We will. I’m not worried. Come on,” you said, tilting your head. “There are more cars over here.”

You were right. Daryl was able to find some tubing that would work, but not without a tiny bit of trouble. As he was searching, walkers started to wander toward the two of you. Not too many, but enough where you had to be focused on putting them down as they came in as a steady stream out of the trees. When there was a break and you were collecting your arrows, your voice interrupted Daryl’s scavenging. “Daryl… come take a look at this.”

You were standing in the middle of the fallen walkers, looking down at one at your feet. He shoved the tubing into his pack and came over, hand on the hilt of his knife. You met his gaze as he stopped beside you.

“They’re all in military uniforms,” you said, glancing around again. “All of them.”

Daryl’s brow furrowed. “Mmm…”

“You think there’s a base or checkpoint around here somewhere?” you asked. “Seems like something.”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah. Could definitely be somethin’.”

“They were all coming in from that way,” you explained, nodding ahead into the trees where the brush and understory between them was more open. “What do you think?”

Daryl considered it thoughtfully for a moment. “I think it’s gonna be dark soon, but if this is somethin’, food and maybe weapons, we gotta follow the trail while we’ve got it.”

You nodded. “Just what I was thinking. Follow it as long as we can and then find somewhere to spend the night, hopefully close to whatever this is.” You started to pat down the bodies for anything useful and Daryl did the same. You came up with a few MREs and some multitools as well as some ammo and magazines for automatic weapons.

You moved off into the trees, and it wasn’t long before you were met with more walkers stumbling through the woods in fatigues. Daryl watched as you used your knife to put down one that was reaching for you. Your movements were precise and strong, but somehow still almost graceful. He took out another one that was approaching with his crossbow. A few more hundred feet and the two of you stepped out of the woods and stood looking at a grassy area, and beyond it an expanse of asphalt, fenced with chain link topped with razor wire. There were quite a few large warehouses and the surrounding area was littered with rusting and abandoned Humvees and Jeeps, scattered with other detritus along with corpses in camouflage uniforms of the national guard or army. One small section of fence was down and Daryl eyed it. “Guess the few that are left have been gettin’ out through there,” he drawled, pointing to it.

You took a few more steps forward, your eyes focused on the buildings. “Is it too much to hope for that no one else has raided this place?”

Daryl hummed a vague “I dunno” sort of noise and shrugged. “It is outta the way. S’off the tracks, not a highway. Kinda tucked back here. Military probably thought that was safer for avoiding the hordes that used the roads once they came outta the cities lookin’ for food.” He considered the dark and dirty windows in the fading light. “Still… we gotta be careful. See what we see first. Could be groups holed up in here or who the hell knows.”

You nodded. “Yeah.” You fingered your knife in its sheath again. “Come on.”

Daryl followed as you head toward the downed section of fence. There were a few walkers wandering aimlessly in the open space between the debris and broken-down military vehicles. You both worked to clear them and then Daryl stopped beside you again. He swung his pack off and pulled out a pair of binoculars, focusing them on the nearest building.

“Anything?” you asked after a quiet minute where he seemed to be scrutinizing the entire exterior.

He shook his head. “Nothin’. But that dun necessarily mean anythin’. I woulda expected spotters or guards though if there are people in here. Seems real quiet.”

You glanced around. “If there were people in here, they would have patched up that hole in the fence. And I’d have look outs on the roofs,” you said, pointing.

Daryl nodded. “Yeah… c’mon. There’s a fire escape we can use on the closest building to get to the roof. Maybe we’ll be able to see somethin’ from up there. Then we better find someplace to hole up. S’gonna be dark in no time.”

You moved swiftly to the closest warehouse and climbed the fire escape. There were skylights that looked down into the space inside. Most of the windows were grimy and fogged with age, but a few were broken out, allowing you to look down inside. “Holy shit,” you murmured, getting your first glimpse of the contents. There was just enough light left to be able to see down inside. “Daryl—come look at this.” He was at the edge of the roof, scanning the surrounding area with his binoculars again.

He leaned over next to you and let out low noise that was almost a growl. “What the fuck?” Corpses. Hundreds of corpses. But none of them were completely decomposed, which indicated they were of the undead variety…

You gulped and shook your head. “That’s a lot of walkers,” you said in a low voice.

Daryl had his binoculars up to his eyes again. “And a lot of supplies,” he drawled. He glanced at you and handed you his binoculars. “Check out that open door on the side.”

You adjusted the focus, and in the low light, could barely make out what looked like shelves loaded with crates and boxes, some stamped with “MREs” on the side. You sighed. “What are they, dormant? Ran out of food and just shut down mostly? Like a… hibernation. Even starved and slow, there’s no way we can get through that and back out with those supplies.”

Daryl wedged the edge of his thumbnail in between his teeth and bite at it thoughtfully. “Nah. Not just you and me. But with enough people and the right plan, we can… But not now.” You handed him back his binoculars and he stowed them. “C’mon. S’gettin’ dark. We shouldn’t be out here. I didn’t see any sign of anybody but we shouldn’t risk it.”

The two of you found a concrete building that looked to be some kind of utility building for the complex at some point. The main selling points were that it had a sturdy door and most of the windows were strong and intact. After making sure it was clear, you piled your gear near one wall and stepped back into the doorway to find Daryl standing just outside, looking out across the gathering darkness with a stoic look on his face, his eyes narrowed.

“Well,” you sighed, drawing his attention. “At least we have dinner. If we can find enough stuff around here for a fire.”

He nodded. “Yeah. I’ll gather some.” You watched as he walked off in search of fuel. He’d seemed to avoid your eyes. You sensed something in his mood, some tension or anxiousness, but for the moment didn’t question him about it. Instead, you went about cleaning the rabbits you’d collected from the snares, and setting out a couple of the MREs you’d scavenged off the soldiers. Daryl came back with an armload of some cardboard and paper, as well as some pallet wood. He left again without a word in search of more and by the time he came back with another load of wood you had a small blaze crackling happily with the rabbits stewing in a little pot, and the MREs were already hot.

“Well, this is going to feel like a proper feast,” you said, passing him one of the MREs. He had settled down across the fire from you and still seemed to be avoiding your glances. Your stomach twisted.

The two of you ate in silence, but the longer it went on, the more your worry grew. Finally, with dinner over and cleaned up and the two of you simply sitting fireside, you said his name, and for the first time all evening his blue eyes met yours. “Are you okay?” you asked. Your brow was heavily furrowed and the tightness in his chest grew as he took in the look on your face. Of course you’d noticed something about him was off. You’d always been able to read his moods when no one else could, even Carol, and apparently a decade apart hadn’t changed that.

He gulped and he watched the concern on your face grow. “I—I gotta tell ya somethin’,” he said, staring back down at his hands, one clasped around the opposite wrist.

“Okay,” you replied softly. But he didn’t start, so you climbed to your feet and moved around to sit beside him. He looked up again and you saw something like regret in his blue eyes. They seemed a deeper shade than usual, but whether from the low light or something inside him you couldn’t say.

Now that you were settled more closely beside him, looking at him patiently and expectantly, Daryl forced himself to go on. “I—When I was out there, lookin’ for Rick… I met somebody.”

You stomach sank and there was a sharp pang near your heart. Daryl went on before you could respond.

“It wasn’t—I mean… Dog found me out there, he was just a little pup, and eventually one day I followed him back and—there she was.” He was avoiding your eyes, avoiding looking at your face, too afraid of what he would see. “He belonged to her. She was livin’ out there in a little cabin on her own. Her name was Leah and—eventually we became—we were…”

“Together,” you managed, another sharp pain in the middle of your chest. It had come out almost as a whisper.

Daryl’s eyes shot up to yours and they were almost frantic as he tried to explain, terrified of how you were receiving this. “But it wasn’t—it didn’t—” he sighed, exasperated at his inability to find the damn words now of all times. “It didn’t last very long and it wasn’t what I thought it was gonna be and then it was—it ended.”

Your brow contracted low over your eyes. “What happened? I mean—it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.”

He ducked his eyes again and shifted a little uncomfortably, staring at the heat moving over the coals. “She—she wanted me to choose…”

“Choose? What do you mean?”

“To be there with her, or at Alexandria, or just… out there where I was alone. She didn’t want me to keep goin’ off for a couple days here and there to do whatever I was doin’. We argued about it and I—I went anyway. And when I came back she was just… gone.”

“She left?”

He shook his head and shrugged, still avoiding your eyes. “I dunno. She just wasn’t there. Most of her stuff was gone.”

“Do you think something happened to her?”

“I dunno…” he trailed off. You watched him fixate on a string at the end of his sleeve and start pulling at it. He gulped nervously. “‘M sorry,” he said suddenly, and when he looked up again his eyes were glassy. “I knew she wasn’t—she wasn’t—Fuck. ‘M sorry…”

“Whoa! Hey—Daryl,” you said, moving closer until you were almost right up against his side. You gently put a hand on his arm. His eyes darted down to it and didn’t leave. “You don’t owe me an apology. We were apart for—for ten years. I didn’t know what to think about—about how things would be if you were still alive out here somewhere. I thought maybe you’d have someone, have other kids, have a whole life with someone else. I knew it was a possibility. No one reasonable would expect you not to move on with your life.”

He shook his head, blinking away the slight sting of tears in his eyes. Your hand was still on his arm and its weight was reassuring. “I didn’t move on though. I couldn’t… not really,” he drawled, a thick edge of gravel in his deep voice. “I never could. Maybe she could tell that I—”

You sighed as you looked at him, shaking your head slightly at his regret and depth of feeling over something he should have no guilt about. “Daryl, you didn’t do anything wrong. Not to me, and certainly not to her.” He glanced up hesitantly at you. “Someone who really cared about you, I mean someone who wanted what was best for you, wanted you to have the things important to you, would never have put you in a situation like that and asked you to choose.”

A tight lump formed in his throat again. He knew it as soon as you said it, but it was a realization that still hit him like a punch in the gut.

“It’s like asking you to pick one piece of yourself instead of being whole.”

He held your eyes and nodded a little. He hadn’t had the words to describe it, but you’d said it for him. “Tha’s—tha’s exactly what it felt like. But I still cared ‘bout her and she was just… gone.” He hadn’t told anyone, not even Carol how familiar and horrific that had felt. It brought back losing you, brought it back to the very surface, exposed how raw and unhealed that wound still was.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

Daryl let out a disbelieving laugh. “Yer apologizin’ to me?” He brushed a hand back through his wavy hair, shaking his head. You gave him a sad smile.

Your hand finally lifted from his arm and now your eyes were fixed on the fire. You wanted to ask him the words that were ringing in your mind, but you felt you had no right to. Were you in love with her? Are you still?. Daryl’s voice broke your whirling.

“Umm—did ya ever—?”

You shook your head. “No… No, I had DJ to look after and worry about and I just—I just never did, you know? I was so focused on raising him right and healthy and I just never found anyone that—I don’t know…” You trailed off too, the same way he had. “I just didn’t.”

A thick silence settled between the two of you again and it still felt full of unspoken things, but neither of you seemed brave enough yet to completely unburden yourselves, to just take that final step and tip over the precipice... Finally, you sighed and glanced over at him. “Do you think we need to watch in shifts?”

Daryl shook his head. There had still been no sign of any people and only minimal amounts of walkers wandering the vast space. “Nah. We can lock that door and I think it’ll be alrigh’. Secure. Safe.”

You nodded in agreement. “Alright. I think I’m gonna head in and try to catch a few hours. You coming?”

He nudged his nose up in a nod. “Yeah. I’ll just put this out and be in.”

“Okay.” You climbed to your feet and then Daryl felt your hand gentle on his shoulder. “Don’t take too long.” Your fingers slipped from him and he watched the shape of you disappear into the deeper blackness inside the little concrete building.

You settled down on your bedroll, pulling a light wool blanket over yourself and sighing, trying to get rid of the tension and swirling thoughts dominating your body and mind. You closed your eyes, but despite being tired, you were finding it hard to settle in. That is until Daryl’s distinctive footsteps entered and you heard the sliding sound of the door on the grit of the floor followed by the comforting heavy clank of the latch. There was a light shuffle and the sound of rustling fabric and you sensed him moving to his own bedroll in the darkness and lying down somewhere not far from you. You shifted and rolled over so you were facing toward him. “Thank you for telling me that,” you said into the still and silent air. You heard more fabric rustling. Daryl had turned onto his side so he was facing toward you now too.

“Mhm,” he hummed. “I needed ya to know before…” he trailed off, realizing, perhaps, what he’d been about to reveal.

“…before what?” you asked in a whisper. Daryl could hear sleep creeping into your voice. He gulped.

“Before… before ya found out from somebody that wasn’t me,” he said, quickly rerouting.

“Mmm. Mhm,” you hummed, sinking slowly now into sleep. “G’night, Daryl,” you breathed, giving in and letting it take you.

Daryl sighed heavily and finally closed his eyes. “Night…”

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles

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cuddl3s4shur1 · 1 year

Text

Infurnami~

Shuri x Scientist Fem Y/N

Note:This story was based off of the song by Steve lacy also I’m lazy af so there are so many fucking spelling or grammar errors but uh enjoy this story

Summary: Your ex shuri is your boss and all she does is pick at you today is the day to confront her about it until you realize how much you still have feelings for each other Enjoy !

Back Story

You work at the lap with queen shuri great right . WRONG. Especially when she has been your ex for a while to be exact 5 months. Why where you so mad about this because shuri is your boss .When you would get the tiniest itty bitty problem in your work Shuri would make you stay for an extra hour to fix it. This was so hard for you due to you not wanting ANY contact with her.You could tell she was picking on you a week after the break .Why because due to this one girl named Daniya who messed up big time she took and and stole vibranuim and GAVE IT TO THE USA FOR FREE.Shuri was all like “no biggie your just going to have to work more and your demoted “. BUT you know you had like a grammar error in your paper shuri had made you do .Shuri got so made she gave you a whole ass speech on why that is bad for her look . Like be so fucking for real you ain’t say that to daniya but nah you want to say it to me . You where fucking tired of her ass picking on you so you decided to talk to her .

Present Day.

You where pissed but happy today you where going to expose your boss .You where kinda iffy though due to it being your 3 year work anniversary. over all you where happy knowing your besties where going to do something hella special for it . You decided to listen to something chill for your shower . You decided to play Infurnami you loved that song but hated it .You loved the vibe but hated it do to it being the song you and shuri loved . You where overall petty like that and proud .

You started your shower off playing “Just hold on where going home “ by drake you got the scent you wanted for today . It was Midnight Amber Glow” it was so calm and suddle . You got in the shower checking the time on your phone.

You Shuffled your playlist and that’s when you concert really started .Drake got crowd hype but now it started With Infurnami by Steve lacy . You sang the song with your heart and than you vibed the whole time .You sang your heart Due to this song meaning a lot to you .Sometimes you wonder is she still felt the same way about the song like the way you do. After you “World tour” you put on lotion body butter and shea moisturizer .You checked the time 8:35 am .

All you had to do was get dressed and that was you decided to wear a tanish white top and skirt the shirt was a long sleeve sweater material and your skirt was the same material and color as your shirt and you where a long midi skirt . You whore a tan coat and tan boots with a white purse and glasses .your makeup look was so simple but cute and your hair black and 30 inches straight .after make up hair and your outfit it was 8:55. You had to go, you knew your boss was going to be hella petty when you got there . You FaceTime your two besties you work with while going to your all black jeep. “Heyyy girl you happy “my one friend Mira said. “I’m iffy I’m finna be late and you know how shuri finna be “ I say in a annoyed tone . My other friend mari talk “ she is bro “ he say in a annoyed way .”I’ll see y’all at work” they both say “k” and we hang up my music starts to play “Luv this shit” by august Alaina starts .”isn’t this the dude jayda had an entanglement with “ you question . A few songs later you make it to work .

You find your parking spot and begin to park it . You get out the car with your white purse and walk in the lab “happy 3 year y/n” you hear scattered around “thank you”. you make your way to the elevator and before it closes “Boss wanted to talk to you “ you hear muffled .Great just fucking great you wanted to talk to her not the other way around . You get off on the floor she was on .you stood right in front of her office door .Hearing muffled talking and possible music . You knock on the door hearing the possible music stop . “Come in “ Shuri said you open the door and proceed to walk in “ Oh y/n it’s you “ . “I mean yeah it’s me you called me to come hear you take off your coat and sit down “ you say sarcastically . “Yeah I did,First congrats on your 3 year “ you cut her off “thank you “ you force a smile . “Second ima going to have you stay till 9:00 pm” you cut her off again and you knew inside it triggered her “First im leaving at 1:00 and not coming back until tomorrow Second ima need you to stop picking on me” you finish your sentence. “Pick on you I do not “ shuri bluffs.“Lies,ever sense we have broke up you have been picking on me making me stay longer than others because of a small ass spelling error and not only that I could spill water and you get a whole fit it’s like you give me more attention than when we where together “ . shuri had nothing to stay she knew you where right . “Any work before I leave at 1:00 “ you say while standing up getting ready to leave .”Yeah I need some papers done by 10:30 “ shuri says while doing her favorite sitting position the man spread while leaning back . “Where are the papers “ you question her . Shuri gets some papers from her drawer and place them on the desk .You walk over to the other side of the desk to get the papers .You could tell she did this on purpose because she put them on the middle of her desk and even if you would stretch you would miss them by a inch . “Exscue me “ you say while scooching towards the middle of the desk .”you get the papers and scooch out from the desk and shuri . “Is this it ?” You ask while Turing to look at her . “Yes ,For now” you begin to turn and you got your coat from the chair and walked out if her office .You closed the door on your way out and waited before walking off .Thats when you heard You and shuris song . You started to remember the good moments.You than walk off the elevator to head to your office

Once you made it to your office you saw Decor you let up a little smile . You turned on the leds in your office and put on your do not disturb poster in your door . You Bluetooth your phone to your leds. You open Musi and click shuffle on you chill playlist . “Sorrows by Bryson Tiler” you got in the vibe.it was now 9:30 and this had to be done at 10:30.For shuri that means before 10:30 and not exact 10:30 . You listen to many songs and you finished at 10:25 .

You begin to get the papers in a stack and pick them up.You than get out of your office and walk to the elevator.You hear the ding and begin to walk to shuris office when getting close still hearing the song. Without knocking you open the door . “Why are you listening to are song on repeat “ you ask demanding an answer .You walk over to the desk and place the papers down.Shuri begins to pause the song .”I can explain y/n I promise “ shuri said hesitantly “Than what is it then why do you listen to are song on repeat and keep pick on me”Shuri gets up while You’re talking You begin to feel her hands on your waist. You want to pull her off but you miss this feeling .”I connect with the lyrics he’s right I was blind to see that my love is right here “ shuri says while hugging you “I miss you shuri but we can only fix are old issues if we communicate.

“Can we go out to eat and talk about this “ shuri asks

“My place 9:30 ,see you soon doll” you tell shuri seductively

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555sage · 1 year

Text

USE ME

SUMMARY [REQUEST] — also, can the prompt be like it's her birthday and he took her out to eat and they get home and get nastyy.

INCLUDES SMUT

“Thank you so much for tonight baby.” She smiles as she walks out from the bathroom just getting done with her night routine. A short black silk slip dress adorned her body—her brown skin oiled up and well moisturized.

Tyler stood in front of the mirror with a towel wrapped around his bottom half lotioning his chest and arms. Walking up behind him she snakes her arm around him running her hands up and down his chest. Peppering kisses on his muscular back and neck.

Turning around he leans down and kisses her—the kiss slow and passionate. Slipping his tongue into her mouth he wraps his large hand around her neck with a firm grip to keep her still. “I’m happy you enjoyed yourself baby, but the night ain’t over yet.” He whispers against her lips.

She smirks knowing exactly what he had in store for her. Her hands work to take the towel off him—as the towel drops by his feet his dick springs out. “Let me see you on your knees.”He instructs squeezing her neck a little.

Before getting on her knees he sticks his middle and index finger into her mouth and spits. With his spit she lets it fall down onto his dick. Working her hand up and down she kisses the under side and catches his balls into her mouth.

“You like it when I do that, huh?” She asks her eyes up on him.

He grunts, “You know I love that shit. Come on stop playing and suck it.” Tapping her cheek roughly with the palm of his hand.

Loving his roughness she teases him more with kitty licks and pecking his tip to get him amped up more. “Say please?” A mischievous grin on her face as she pulled her mouth away. He fists her her hair into his hand pulling her head back to look up at him. “Come on and eat this dick up baby, ain’t no time for games.”

She wanted to get hers, so she did as he said. Filling her mouth with as much of him she can—he forcefully pushes her further onto him, her nose against his well groomed area. She tried not gag has he pushed her onto him for one last time. Her tongue slides as he pulls her off him—saliva falls down her chin and her chest.

“Get up baby.” His hand wrapped around her throat pulling her up to giving her a sloppy kiss—slapping and grabbing her ass under the her slip dress just to find out she wore no panties.

He bites her ear, “You was waiting for this dick huh?”

“Always baby.” She moans biting her lips. Wet and needy for him she stands on her tip toes rubbing her front against his. “Gimme that dick.”

“You want it?” He questions licking her ear before looking her in the eye.

“Mhm.” Nodding her head enthusiastically.

“Beg for it.” He roughs her off him and lays himself on the edge of the bed— his long legs spread apart and he’s propped up by his elbow.

She slips out of her dress and crawls onto the bed on her knees. On top of him she licks up his bare chest, she hated begging but she knows it gets her man off—and tonight she sure was in the mood to do just that. “I know you wanna nut in your pussy baby, it’s all yours right?” She teases. A deep chuckle was let out from him and just then she knew he close to being convinced.

“Come on baby, I wanna feel you.” She wraps her hand around his dick and teases his tip against her entrance, her wetness and his precum mixing with each other.

He softly moans and throws his head back hissing from the feeling. Eyes tightly shut, all he could think about was painting her walls with his seed. She was too good at having him weak in the knees, but he held himself together. On her feet, she continues to rub herself against his tip.

Just like him, she was losing it—she wanted him inside her and now. She was close to coming just from rubbing herself on him. “Fuck me, please.” She begs—and just that is what she got. He started slow easing her down on him with both his hands gripping her sides.

She cries out as he drills into her with no remorse. “Fuck!” Holding onto his arm for support, but the wind was knocked right out of her when he switches positions with no problem. Legs open and wide like Tesla doors he ruts into her, hand wrapped around her neck. Her cries and moans were muffled as he kisses her—swirling his tongue in her mouth.

He pulls her third orgasm out of her as she kissed deeply. Her legs wrapped around him, and her clenching him as he slides in and out of her. “That’s it baby, I keep cumming around on this dick.” He hissed as he looks down watching himself go in and out—her wetness and cream visible on him. “Look.” He grabs the back of her neck and gets to do exactly as he said.

“Look at the mess you making on me baby.” She cries as he slows himself and hits her spot with deep thrust.

“Nut in your pussy daddy.” She entices him as she moaned out almost reaching her climax. The thought of a creampie, him filling her up with his seed deep in her was enough to make her scream out from the intense build up.

“I got you baby.” His strokes were slower paced and he was a moaning mess in her neck. “I got you.” He whispers one last time before cumming in her and staying her for a long while before pulling out to which they both look at his nut spill out of her. She huffs laying her head back down on the bed.

“Unt-uh baby, you gotta clean your mess up.” He shakes his head smirking. She slaps her hands onto her face mentally apologizing to her punani.

A kiss to his lips let’s him know she was ready to saddle up again.

@sheluvv-jen you’re wish is my command

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ghostiiess · 6 months

Text

[NSB HEADCANONS] - selfcare night

pov: you doing a selfcare night with darren

warnings: none

type: wholesome

member: darren liang (lildarbear)

REBLOGS AND LIKES ARE VERY APPRECIATED!

This man is the king of selfcare

Idk why, but i feel like darren would be the type of guy to buy a lot of skincare products even if he doesnt really need it (me)

I imagine him being like « hey baby! Want to do some skincare with me? I bought some things from target »

(More under the cut!)

Darren would have A LOT of skincare...

This man would have a box with all the face mask he has, all the cream, all the moisturizer…

This man do not miss anything!

Btw, i have found an app... If you don’t really know how to take care of you or what are the right steps for skincare, there’s an app called ‘skin bliss’ who’s super good! it allow you to know what’s your skin type and which products you should use and everything

This is not a collab or something like that, just a little app that i found a while ago and thought it could maybe help some people! (It doesn’t replace the professionals, but it does help a little bit!)

ANYWAYS!

Darren would be super happy to help you out

"Want to do your skincare with me? Alright, baby!"

« Do you know your skin type? »

« no? alright, so there’s normal one, the oily one, the dry one, the sensitive and the mixed one who’s mixed with the dry and the oil skin type »

Idk why, but from all the boys, i feel like Darren is the most ‘skincare’ lover?

Like, i know the others guys love their routine and everything, but i feel like dar’ would be the one who like it the most?

Since you aren’t exactly sure what’s your skin type, liang bought you ‘all-skin’ skincare

« you can all use these!"

"hey no need to pay me back.... unless...😏😏😏"

"WHAT???? i didnt say anything, i wasnt even thinking about that!!!"

He would show you the steps and how to apply the products, the creams, and basically everything you need to know about skincare

« First, you have to clean your face, because why are you doing your skincare if your face isn’t even clean? »

« yes! just like that, baby! now, you have to drh it up a little bit »

« then, you apply this cream! »

He would give you all the tips and all the informations you need to make your skin glow

He would tell you everything you need to know, every steps you need to do before adding something else on your face

Of course, skincare night isn’t really skincare night if we don’t do silly face mask at the end

« I only bought sheet face mask, because the Pell-off ones are not good for your skin. They scratch all the protection base you have »

Why am i imagining Darren bought sheet animal face mask for you?

« Look how cute it is, baby!! It’s almost as cute as you! »

« gosh, you’re so cute with the mask on »

Lildarbear would kiss you

Yes, even if you both have a face mask on

« What? I ain’t even doing something wrong! »

« Wdym I’m kissing you? Ofc, im kissing you, you’re my girl »

"It won't turn into a makeout session... i'm telling you"

we know how Darren is

This man cannot let his hands for himself

« I am just checking if the moisturizer lip balm is working… »

« i don’t know if it’s working, i may need to verify again »

THIS MAN’S SO FLIRTY

After the face mask, he would literally put cream on his hand and moisturize you again

« that way, your skin will now be more hydrated »

« You did a good job, baby »

« So proud of you! »

« Wdym i only wanted to make out with you? Miss, i was checking if your lips were enough hydrated or if you needed more, this was for pure scientific experience, nothing more »

A selfcare night with Darren seems like a dream to me

It sounds so relaxing and so fun

Darren, tell us how you do your skincare, because your skin is amazing and so glowy, like wow

Taglist! (Open! Send an ask if you’d like to be in it!) : @nsb-rkive @kentisbaby @firebenderwolf @hyuneee0 @yawnzzznnn @ghostyycat7

Bold can’t be tagged.

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minervadashwood · 2 years

Text

Daryl Dixon x NB!Reader (afab/plus-size) 🏹🏹 Daryl x Reader x Rick (eventually)

The Cop and the Criminal - Chapter 2

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Series Masterlist | Daryl x Reader Masterlist

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Summaray: You and Daryl let nature take its course.

This chapter contains: Smut (p-in-v sex, fingering, doggy style, a soft!dom!Daryl, knotting, cockwarming), angst (just a little), and fluff. Very, very brief mention of drug addiction.

Notes: I had an ‘omegaverse tropes explained’ section here, but I’ve decided to leave it out. If you have questions about the ‘verse and don’t want to search, feel free to ask me. I love sharing what I’ve learned, but I have a tendency to ramble.

Thanks to: @livingdeadblondequeen and @green-eyedladywrites for being sounding boards and cheerleaders. @bringinsexybackk69 for being a font of knowledge on Georgia dialect and GSU

Word count: ~3,600

Daryl smoothed his hand along your face, then traced your jaw with his finger. “Yer fuckin’ beautiful,” he murmured.

Your belly flip flopped. You’d never been called beautiful before. Most people said you were cute, and while “beautiful” had connotations of feminine, it also applied to many things, like a sunset, a full moon, a breathtaking work of art.

Part of you knew that your attraction to Daryl—and his to you—was biology at work, but there was no mistaking the affection in his voice or the expression in his eyes. It all made you wet and wanting—needing—your alpha to take you.

He removed your glasses from your face and placed them on the bedside table. You were simply nearsighted, so you could still see him clearly. His hand was on your face again, and his fingers grazed to your mating gland. He drew a finger along it gently, sending shivers and tingles throughout your body, straight to your core. His nose replaced his hand as he lowered himself to his elbows, nuzzling your gland.

“Smell so good,” he mumbled, moving from your gland back to your mouth.

With one hand, he grabbed you by the chin and kissed you. This time, he was insistent, aggressive. In no time his tongue was tangling with yours. Moans and whimpers sounded from deep in your chest, and Daryl grunted against your lips.

Your world now consisted of only Daryl, like he surrounded you completely. His arms framed you, his pelvis gently moved against yours. As he kissed you, his chest would push against your breasts and belly, the skin to skin contact simultaneously scintillating and soothing. All around was his scent and your own, mingling in an intoxicating fragrance that had you aching and longing for more. Again, that sense of rightness came over you, ridding you of almost all doubt.

You shoved your fingers through Daryl’s sandy blond hair, then gave it a slight tug. You’d happily submitted to him, but you had to prove you had aggression of your own. He bit your bottom lip, gently pulling his mouth from yours, pausing his kisses to look you in the eye.

He gave you a crooked smile. “My ‘mega’s got some fire in ‘er,” he said.

Them, you mentally corrected. But there was time for that conversation later. He’d accept you still, wouldn’t he? He had to. You were his mate, no matter your pronouns, no matter your gender.

He put his mouth on you again, this time on one of your glands, his teeth gently nipping around it.

“Can’t claim ya since ya ain’t in heat, ‘mega. No matter how much I want to.”

You sighed, tears springing to your eyes. To be wanted, claimed. It’s all you’d ever longed for; in your heart of hearts, it was what you wanted most in life.

“You really want to?” you whispered, your finger tracing behind his ear.

He turned his head and kissed your palm. “’Course I do.”

For a moment he looked at you in confusion, but then he must have seen the moisture in the corners of your eyes.

Fear flashed across his features. He tried to look away, but you put your hand on his jaw and held him in place.

“I want you, too,” you said with a genuine smile. “It’s all I can think about, wanting to be yours.”

His response was to duck his head and kiss the crook of your neck. Still holding himself on one elbow, his free hand found your breast, palming it, caressing it. His mouth traveled from your neck to your breastbone just as his hand began to tease at your nipple.

You snaked your hand around his bicep, and with your other hand you tried to stifle your moans, which were increasing in frequency and volume.

Daryl let go of your breast to grab your hand and move it away from your mouth.

“Let ‘em hear ya, Y/N. Give ‘em some payback and let ‘em know yer mine.”

He’d no sooner finished speaking when his mouth was on your breast. At the first flick of his tongue on your nipple, you mewled and squirmed beneath him. Keeping his mouth on you, his gaze found yours and you could swear he was smirking at you with just his eyes. The expression made you blush and giggle, but his tongue went back to work, and it was all you could do not to fall apart from that alone.

His mouth switched to your other breast, the cool air on your abandoned nipple cold and thrilling. It wasn’t long before his thumb and forefinger went to work on that one so that while Daryl teased one breast with his mouth, he was working the other one with his hand.

Your legs struggled fruitlessly for purchase on the bed. Your hips squirmed beneath his weight, seeking friction from his body. Your moans deepened, becoming drawn out and throaty. Just when you thought you’d come from him fondling your breasts, he released them both.

Then, his hand skimmed its way over the curve of your belly, trailing over the tiger stripes of stretch marks.

He rested his chin on your breastbone and looked into your eyes. His palm was on your lower belly, his fingertips flitting with the waistband of your cotton shorts.

“Tell me you’re okay, ‘mega,” he said, then placed light kisses in the valley between your breasts.

For a minute, your breath hitched as you gazed at him. Daryl was incredibly sexy, with cool blue eyes, a hint of stubble, and a wickedly talented mouth. Was he truly your mate? How had you gotten so lucky?

“I’m more than okay,” you replied. A small wave of uncertainty reared its head. “Are you okay, Daryl?” You smoothed your hand along his shoulder and triceps.

He shifted his weight so that he was lying next to you, his hand still flirting with the elastic of your shorts. “Not sure yer real,” he whispered. “’s like you were fuckin’ made for me.”

A giggle escaped you. Because of your education, you knew more than most how true that was. “I am, Daryl, and you were made for me, too.”

He nodded, ducking his head until his forehead rested in the crook of your shoulder. Gently, his fingers found their way under your shorts, your underwear, and were against your skin and thatch of hair between your thighs. His fingertips grazed on top of your mons.

“I’m ready, Alpha,” you encouraged. “Please touch me.”

Slowly, almost too slowly, he slid a single finger along your folds, making you tremble and angle your hips toward his touch.

“So wet, ‘mega,” he said in your ear. “So wet for me.”

“It’s all your fault, Alpha. You better take care of the mess you’ve made.”

He snorted—again his version of a chuckle—and he kissed your cheek. “Told ’ya to lemme take care of ya, didn’t I?”

You nodded, but then his lips found your mouth. He kissed you while he continued teasing you with the ghostly touch of his finger along your folds.

He nipped at your bottom lip at the same time as his finger grazed your clitoris, tearing from you a groan of need.

“Please,” you whimpered, angling your hips toward his hand.

“Listen to my little ‘mega. Begging for her alpha’s touch,” he teased, pulling away just enough so you could see him smiling at you.

Their, your mind corrected, but the thought was fleeting as Daryl gazed into your eyes and his finger slid inside you. Holding your gaze, he flicked his thumb over your clit, and then his finger finally found your opening and slowly pushed its way in.

“Oh, oh god,” you breathed, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Daryl hummed, kissing your cheek, your jaw, as he touched you expertly with his hand. Another finger joined the first, and his thumb provided just the right amount of pressure on your clit. You were seeing stars already. The only thing you knew in the world was Daryl’s hand and mouth, nothing else mattered anymore.

Then, Daryl curled his fingers just so, stroking a spot deep inside of you. Sweet bursts of pleasure erupted at every touch, building to a beautiful, mind-altering crescendo.

“That’s my good ‘mega,” Daryl urged. “Just let go, I gotcha.”

You obeyed, coming as every part of you pulsed with pleasure as you rode out your orgasm.

Daryl kissed you again and again, his hand slowing down, becoming gentle and soothing.

“You did so good ‘mega, coming for me, trusting me.”

You nodded, blissed out and smiling.

He kissed your nose, before suddenly leaping off the bed. He yanked off your shorts and underwear, then quickly undid his belt and shuffled out of the rest of his clothes. Well, except for his shirt, for some odd reason. You didn’t think about that for another second, however. Instead, your eyes were glued to his impressive, alpha-sized cock, hard and already dripping.

Sitting up on the bed you reached for him. “My alpha,” you crooned.

He growled, and put his hands on you, flipping you over until you were on all fours, presenting yourself to him. Daryl practically crawled on top of you, his body curving around yours. You struggled to hold yourself up on your arms with him pressing down on you, but after a moment, he pulled away slightly. A groan of protest was on your lips, but then he began kissing his way down your spine. Gentle, wet kisses sent shivers through you. He took his time, as if he were worshiping you with his mouth. You almost didn’t notice when his fingers slipped between your thighs. But then you felt his hand at your entrance, at first two, then three digits opening you for him even more.

You arched your back, and your arms grew shaky, so overwhelmed with renewed need that all your energy was focused on your cunt and Daryl’s fingers inside you. Still, you craved more. You craved his cock. Lowering your head to the bed, you raised your hips, showing your mate you were thoroughly ready for him.

He growled, deep in his chest, giving you one last kiss at the small of your back.

You felt his cock at your entrance, and your pussy pulsed with need. Daryl pushed in slowly, groaning with the effort as he gradually filled you.

Holding himself still, he leaned over you again, kissing your shoulder and whispering in your ear. “You’re so beautiful Y/N, takin’ my cock like a good ‘mega.”

You sighed with contentment, happy and proud you’d pleased him.

Slowly, he began moving, almost withdrawing fully before easing back in again. Wistful sighs escaped your lips. Daryl reached his hand around you and began plying your clit with delicate touches that now echoed the movement of his cock inside you.

Your next orgasm came quickly, surprising you as you shuddered and moaned. Again, Daryl whispered his encouragement in soothing tones. As you came down, he began thrusting anew, this time quick and hard, surely chasing his own release.

“Gonna come in you so hard, ‘mega. Gonna fill you up,” he said.

Blissful and feeling a bit ornery, you looked at him over your shoulder. “Come all you want, alpha, knot me up for days. But no pups yet. I’m on the pill.”

Daryl rewarded you with a smirk and a rough squeeze on one of your butt cheeks. “Once you’re fully mine, ‘mega, I’ll have somethin’ to say about that.” In a show of dominance, he fiercely gripped your hips, squeezing so tightly that you yelped. Then, you giggled. How fun it was to tease him, to coax the wild, controlling alpha out of him.

You felt his knot forming, its size somewhat uncomfortable, at first, but then filling you with indescribable joy. You could only imagine how happy you’d be when the time came for you to truly have your alpha, without suppressants, without the birth control.

With his hands holding tight to your generous hips, Daryl’s thrusts only grew in pace and force, then with a long groan, he came inside you, spurting his hot seed into your waiting body.

You collapsed on the bed, Daryl laying atop of you, nearly breathless. He carefully rolled you both to lay on your sides while his knot held you together. You instinctively hooked your leg back and over his, so that his legs were between yours. Now you were comfortable, and his knot was safely buried inside you.

Daryl seemed not at all content to simply lay beside you, however. He worked one arm under your head, until your cheek rested on his bicep and his forearm spanned across your chest, holding onto your shoulder. His other hand smoothed up and down your belly, and then he kissed and suckled at the skin on your back, leaving, from what you could tell, an impressive number of love bites.

You reached a hand behind you, caressing his thigh.

Once Daryl stopped marking you, the room was quiet except for the rattling of the air conditioner.

Your neighbors were utterly silent. You grinned to yourself, somewhat thrilled with the idea of strangers having heard your alpha have his way with you.

Daryl kissed your shoulder blade. “Think ya can sleep now?”

“Mmhm,” you hummed, your fully satisfied body going boneless in his arms.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N,” he whispered.

But what was the point in dreaming when the night was already perfect? Your eyes fluttered closed, and you slowly fell asleep, a smile still planted on your face.

Daryl held you closer than he had ever held anyone in his life. It was like he fit around you perfectly, like your place was in his arms.

Your coupling had apparently taken a lot out of you; you were asleep in no time. He was quite proud of himself for a moment. When soft, adorable snores began passing through your slightly parted lips, he could not help smiling at you. Already, he realized what a treasure you were: your delectable body, your sly teasing, your eventual submission.

However, doubt soon set in.

So much had changed in just a matter of hours. Most of his adult life, he’d thought there’d be no one else but him and Merle. And now he had a partner, a mate. An omega meant to be with him for the rest of his life.

The thought of having to take care of you filled him with fear. He had no job, no home, and no promise of finding any of them. He could possibly start selling drugs like Merle, but what kind of life was that? What if something happened to him, and he couldn’t look after you anymore?

His knot had by now deflated, but he was reluctant to pull away from you, even a little. He buried his head in the crook of your neck and held you close.

He dozed on and off, unable to let himself relax into a deep sleep. Every time he awoke, you were still snoring softly.

Daryl told himself he had to find something respectable to do with his life. It would take him a while, maybe, but would do it. He was good at fixing things, cars and bikes especially. Maybe—after a time—he could save up enough money to rent a place for you both, somewhere close to your school. But hopefully out of the city. The thought of being more than an hour’s drive from the woods made him skittish.

He half wondered what it would be like to just live out in the wilderness with you, back at the old family cabin. He’d hunt, fish, and forage. And maybe you could keep a garden. He sighed. That was a selfish fantasy. Daryl would never take you away from what you wanted to do with your life. You had goals, he figured, and who was he to stop you from reaching them?

It was vital that he made sure you’d never have to live with Merle. No way was Daryl going to let you live with a drug addict who’d just as soon fight someone as he would fuck them.

He was worried enough about how would Merle even react when he met you. Would he be jealous that Daryl had a mate? Would Merle try to hurt you? Would he try to take you as his own?

Daryl would never allow that, not as long as he was still breathing. Merle may be blood, but you were his mate, and if it came to blows, Daryl would have to choose you over his brother. No matter how much it might hurt to do it.

The sun was shining through the threadbare curtains, signaling the start of a new day. With a sigh, and great reluctance, Daryl left your side and got out of bed. He went to the bathroom to relieve himself. After washing his hands, he got dressed, pulling on his jeans, and buttoning his shirt. Finally, he wet a washcloth with warm water and some soap.

By the time he was out of the bathroom, you were awake, stretching out on the bed and sighing. God, you looked fucking gorgeous, still naked with the scattered rays of sunlight glancing off your skin.

When you noticed him standing there, you reached for your glasses and put them on. “Good morning, Alpha,” you crooned.

A smile found its way to his lips. “Mornin’ mega.” Without saying anything else, he knelt on the bed and silently went about cleaning the worst of the dried mess from your thighs, vulva, and backside. He should have done it last night, but letting you out of his arms just wasn’t possible.

As he worked, you glided your fingers through his hair, and he had to keep from growling in appreciation.

You had no problem filling the silence. “I’m really going to miss you Daryl. I’m sure we’ll figure something out, but until you do, do you think you could visit me? Maybe once a month? Or every six weeks?”

Finished cleaning you, Daryl tossed the cloth toward the bathroom. He stared at you, his brow furrowed. Seeing you once a month was out of the question. You belonged to him now. No way would he settle for a couple of days out of thirty.

You sat up and tore your gaze from his, staring at your hands that were now in your lap. “I’m sorry. That’s probably too much to ask. I don’t even know where you live.”

Not waiting for an answer, you quickly retrieved your discarded t-shirt and pulled it on. It nearly reached your knees, but Daryl watched as you made a concerted effort to find your cotton shorts from behind the dresser and put those on, too. He’d must have really ripped those off you in a hurry.

You were making your way to your suitcase, your shoulders slumped and your back to him. Daryl finally found his voice.

“Y/N.” he said. “C’mere.” He sat on the edge of the bed and indicated the spot beside him.

He saw you biting your lip as you padded your way back to him, but you sat right up against him, just like he wanted you to.

Immediately, he had his arm around you.

“I ain’t gonna visit you but once a month. Be seein’ ya as often as I can. At least every weekend. Goin’ to help ya move in, too.”

You finally raised your gaze to his. “You are?”

He nodded once. To him, it was a given that he’d do all that for you. Still, he had to set a few limits.

“I got some things to sort out over the next few weeks, but I’ll try to find a place close to ya. That way you can go into heat like ya should. And I can keep ya safe, too.”

Heats were dangerous for even the healthiest of omegas, and before you were off your suppressants, Daryl would make sure everything was ready for you. The thought of having you at home with him, a home also filled with pups, made him even more determined to do this right.

You put your hand on his knee and shifted slightly so you could face him. “I don’t expect you to upend your life. Just for me.”

Daryl could not resist touching you more. He snaked his other hand around your neck and gently held the base of your head. “Already got it planned out. Jus’ let me take care of it.”

You looked at him with concern. He leaned down and kissed you, hoping to make you forget your worry. He wasn’t worth worrying about.

As he pulled away to rest his forehead on yours, you licked your lips and said, “Don’t you have family? Friends?”

Daryl fully pulled away, but still kept one arm around you. Not touching you at all was inconceivable right now. Still, he lowered his gaze, staring at the dingy carpet. It was his turn to feel embarrassed

“There is someone I need to tell ya ‘bout,” he admitted. “My brother.”

Thanks for reading, if you enjoyed it, please reblog so others can find it, too! Replies and comments are what keeps me writing and sharing, so don't be shy!

Next Chapter.

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#mdop #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #twd #twd fanfic #plus size #plus size reader #plus size fanfic #minerva writes #the cop and the criminal #omegaverse #alpha beta omega dynamics #a/b/o #nonbinary reader #enby reader #6739

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starchild0985 · 1 year

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Okay, I'm not really sure what this is, lol. This is the first time I've written for a television series in about twenty years. I'm still feeling my way into this universe, and I'm also old enough to be Ellie's mom, so worried about having her voice right. I loved writing this, though, and it was inspired by my love of Chris Cornell and how I thought Ellie would like Soundgarden.

Looking California, Feeling Minnesota

Rating: E

Word Count: 1343

Some Joel-Ellie familial bonding. Joel's gift helps Ellie make a bridge between her life before and in Jackson.

It wasn’t as if Ellie wanted to stick out; not really.

When she looked at the other teenagers at the dining hall, those first few days when they had re-settled in Jackson, they didn’t really look so different. She sized them up with the eye of one practiced, and they were more rounded, not having grown up without food, and clumsy in a way she had never had the freedom be.

Here in Jackson, mistakes were no longer a matter of reduced rations or death.

Still, she tried to reason, her logical mind tenaciously, perhaps paradoxically, defending quixotic hope, that they were like her, still trying to learn, still trying to figure out what chances existed in a world like this.

When she looked at her own hands, though, they seemed rougher, a chimera of her, Ellie, and the specter-self she had left behind in the shadows of Silver Lake.

The softness Joel bestowed upon her—a tenderness Ellie dared not to name, for fear it would shrivel like leaves in a campfire—sheltered a tiny spark of hope that this could be a fresh start. A new her.

Watching the girls laughing in a knot together, though, that ideal seemed impossible to attain.

---------------------------

Joel came back from his first overnight patrol bearing gifts—two sketchbooks, only slightly wrinkled from previous moisture, and a new cassette tape.

Having accepted the sketchbooks with an enthusiastic “bitchin!”, trying out a slang term she’d picked up from one of the women who worked at the stables, Ellie turned the cassette over in her hand.

“Soundgarden?’

“Found this in a busted-out old station wagon in the woods. Thought you’d like it, kiddo.”

“Sounds like old people music, so it’s perfect for you.”

Joel got the look Ellie loved, when something she said made him want to laugh, but he pursed his lips to try to hide it.

“That sure ain’t what my parents thought when Tommy was playing it. Course, he blew out my pa’s car speakers with it, so can’t say I blame them.”

She stuck her pinkie finger in one of the cassette’s holes, remembered another life, when Riley had fixed her Pearl Jam tape when Bethany had pulled the fragile innards out.

“’S loud?”

“Sure is, so mind the volume when you play it, ‘less you want to be as deaf as me.”

Joel tugged on her ponytail, the affectionate gesture erasing any harshness that could be perceived in his words.

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It WAS loud, and to Ellie’s surprise, the intense thrum of the guitar and the singer’s range, purring low one moment and screaming the next, grounded her. She listened to the tape twice that first night, falling asleep near the end of the B side.

She peppered Joel with questions about the band at breakfast, trying to figure out what the musicians looked like. Joel scratched his head, taking a sip of chicory root coffee.

“Well, they were more Tommy’s thing, mind you, but the singer was a fella named Chris. He had real long hair, and he didn’t have a shirt on in his videos sometimes.”

“Gross.” She tapped her nail on the Walkman, sitting by her breakfast plate. “I like his voice, though.”

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A month passed, and Ellie sat in Joel’s garage workshop, his hand covering hers easily as he showed her how to sand the tabletop he was working on.

“Easy, now. Go with the grain, see? There you go.”

Ellie sat back and admired her handiwork, then remembered the thought that had been tugging at her brain as she slipped into her dreams last night.

“Hey, Joel? Can you ask me a question about one of the songs on the tape you got me?”

This was another Joel expression that never failed to make Ellie laugh, the way his eyebrows would shift when he was worried she was going to ask something, as he put it, “inappropriate.” They’d clawed their way through hell and back, but he still tried to raise her the same way he had the girl she secretly considered a big sister.

It made her feel achingly, almost, equal.

“Now, Ellie, you know not to repeat those if there’s anything...raunchy...”

She rolled her eyes.

“Raunchy. Okay, grandpa.”

He looked at her, head tilted in a question, and the teasing evaporated from her lips as she got back on topic.

“What does ‘looking California, feeling Minnesota’ mean? Because I don’t think I even know where Minnesota is, and I just saw California in a movie once.”

“Well, now, I reckon that’s him trying to say he the way he looks and the way he feels are two different things, but he said it like that as a, you know....”

“Metaphor?”

The look of pride on Joel’s face was enough to make Ellie feel like the neighborhood cat basking in a beam of light.

“That’s the one. It’s a metaphor. He’s saying he don’t feel like he belongs where is, even if he looks it.”

Ellie looked down at the tabletop again, pushing the sandpaper across the section in front of her.

“I thought you didn’t feel that way anymore when you grew up.”

She could feel Joel fidgeting next to her in the pause that followed.

“Babygirl, I feel that way all the time.”

Even now, it was hard not to look for signs he was humoring her. Making fun of her. The things adults do with kids. She saw, instead, pure earnestness in his eyes. She gave him a moment to gather thoughts like he needed, the way he always gave her time to finish.

“Tommy was always the more talkative of us brothers, but now, I gotta remember we’re in a safe place where I can know someone’s full name, give them mine. Feels like no one else here has that problem. But I struggle with it every time.”

“Oh.”

“And...And Sarah--”

There were still days where it was hard for him to say Sarah’s name, but he did it more around her than anyone else, and she held her breath, hoping he’d continue.

“Well, Sarah didn’t go through what you have, but her mama left us when Sarah was a baby, and she felt like everyone could tell.”

Connection sparkled across all the years, the thoughts of a girl wondering why her mother didn’t want her finding one who had, decades later, come to learn her mother’s lie was what saved her life. The connection, purple and green, over and over, forged by the weary man in flannel who would have risked it all for him for both of them.

Ellie laid a hand on his forearm and squeezed, and he bent over to press a grateful kiss on the top of her head.

“’Course, Sarah was always real tall for her age, too, and she used to hate she couldn’t fit into the clothes her friends could. Now, you could’ve, but, well, you ain’t that girly, and she would have respected that.”

“I’d have liked that.” Ellie thought back on the song. “Do you think the guy who sang it felt that way?”

“That’s why he wrote it, baby. I always liked music for that. Says a lot when you’re not real great with words.”

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The next time Ellie went to the dining hall, her Walkman in her pocket, and looked at the kids, she was still scared. She still felt Minnesota.

But she thought about Joel, how the toughest man she’d ever known was scared to put his guard down, even after weeks, even for an instant, and no one knew.

She thought of how Sarah, who she thought must have had a perfect life, having Joel before the world went to hell, had her silent hurts.

Ellie wondered if, in the crowd of faces, they all had their own stories. Their own pain.

Her eyes met those of the dark-haired girl who’d watched her all that ago, when Ellie had first come to Jackson. Dina, she thought her name was.

This time, when Dina looked, Ellie smiled.

#The Last of Us fan fic #The Last of Us #Joel Miller #Ellie Williams

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ignis-writes · 2 years

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Nightmares

Pairing: Captain Logan Syverson × Female Reader

Summary: An ugly Nightmare and how the following day went for the Syverson household.

Pov: First-person pov

Warnings: Mentions of war, PTSD, nightmares, drowning with fluff and angst. Lemme know if there is anything else.

Author's note: I’m not an experienced writer and this work is not BETA’d. Plus, English is not my first language so watch out for obvious mistakes.

Gif: @tellingyouastory

Do not plagiarize my work. Captain Syverson and Sandcastle doesn't belong to me.

Opening my eyes under the coarse moisture, I could sense the sharp wetness creeping into my veins, my fingers were going numb and my eyes couldn’t figure out anything except the painful sting of chilly water blurring my vision

Where am I? How did I get here?

I tried to swim, but I couldn’t shift my limbs or cry out loud. I wondered if I'm dead already. Maybe I am in that phase where the soul splits from your body, never to be one again. Why else would I lose contact with my limbs? It hurts? Not really, but the confusion is scary and painful. I gave up, too tired to fight anymore. If this is how I am going, I wanted to leave already, I wanted to end this desperation to breathe.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Opened my eyes again to my name being whispered in panic but this time I could breathe, I was breathing fast enough to feel the pulse hammer in my head. My throat ran dry with a protesting cough as I opened my eyes to his concerned face.

“ Sy? ”

“ hush… it’s just a nightmare, bug, you’re safe. ”

I could already feel my eyes welling up with moisture despite the lack of it in my mouth. His calm fingers wiped hot tears gliding down my face and gently raised me to sit on his lap with my head to his chest. His firm embrace was with just enough pressure to calm me down and let me breathe without effort. After what seemed to be an eternity of silence I sensed him shift gently to sit me against the headboard. I gazed at him with glossy eyes and a silent plea to stay a lil longer, I was not ready to leave him yet. He kissed my temple and told me he’d be back in a minute and left the door open with the lights on along the hallway. I could have caught his palm in mine and asked him to stay if the thought occurred fast enough in my tired brain.

He came back with some water and crackers. Turned up the AC and opened Netflix. Sy knew the nightmares stole my sleep and left me with terrible headaches and hot flashes. He removed his sweatpants and climbed into the sheets with me. We curled up into each other for God knows how long, and somewhere around the crack of dawn, I must have dozed off in his warm chest. This wasn't the first time one of us got up screaming and hiding from the ghost of bygone days spent in mighty graveyards of powdered gold. Initially it was hard, but as time went the PTSD became easier to handle when you have someone to fight for and someone fighting for you. So we became each other's safe haven, something like a home to hide when the demons came looking.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

I woke up a few hours later to find worlds best Irish Coffee waiting for me at the bedside table, all captains magic. It restored life into my body and rubbed away the remains of sleep from my eyes. While I was standing under the faucet with water pouring over my face I heard the front door being unlocked followed by a loud lively bark which meant “moooommm im home” around here. Sy returned with Aika from their extended Sunday walk and joined me in the shower with a happy grin.

“Gotta save the wadur ma'am”

mumbled as he walked right in with a slap on my ass. And it would be a lie if I say I hated drowning my captain in those flowery fruity shower gels. He’d declare he ain’t saying shit only cuz he loved me and act all disinterested. Liar. I know he loves them too. To have this hulk of a man walking around my house smelling like vanilla and plum is a dream. He rubbed his beard across my neck and threw sloppy kisses while his hand sneaked around my hips to pull me closer. Ohhh…This is gonna be a long shower.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The day was cloudy with rain soon to follow, when I began to heat up the leftovers and boil some sweet tea while he cleaned up the bedroom and took out the garbage. We sat on the porch savoring mac and cheese with the Chinese Sy ordered for the night talking about how the backyard fence needed some work done and where we could set up the ranch once we completed the loan on the house. We didn’t talk about yesterday’s incident, there was no need to. After 10 years of being together, we figured out how to avoid cross-questioning over such delicate yet insignificant junctures.

We knew each other by day and night, by good and bad and we cherished that silent intimacy long enough to watch it cool into the wax that held us together. And when we ran out of things to rant, the silence was comfortable enough to let us deliberately slip into our separate lil worlds enjoying the quiet presence of each other’s company. So here we were starting the Sunday when the sun made plans to sleep, thinking about buying Alpacas and fixing fences while the world spined fast around us. We chose to live these days away from that hasty violent world, trying to make peace with ourselves.

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#henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill #captain syverson #walter marshall #geralt of rivia #sand castle

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demonologist-in-denim · 1 year

Text

Under The Weather

“This is completely ridiculous!” Despite his best efforts, Crowley’s roar was more likely to inspire pity than cowering, even to his own ears. “I do not need a cup of tea. I do not need a blanket, or my temperature taken, or a nap, or any of the rest of this bloody nonsense – I am not sick!”

A wooziness just about dragged him down into the plumpness of the pillow. He rallied against it, if only momentarily.

“I,” he crankily reminded his caretaker, “am a demon!”

Balancing a full tray of cuppa, plate of chocolate-covered biscuits, thermometer, tissue box, and a vial of something vile, Donna clucked her tongue as she strode purposefully over to the couch. Crowley and the couch were old friends – he’d slept in her living room plenty of nights when they were passing through on a case. But he’d never been laid up on it like this before, and it infuriated him to no end.

“Just cuz you didn’t know ya could get sick doesn’t mean ya ain’t.”

Crowley glared at her, but Donna just beamed at him, said “scooch”, and made a little room for herself on the couch down by his feet. She held the cup of tea out temptingly.

“Sure, you’re a demon, alright. Mostly.” Her bright smile only widened at his withering look. “But apparently not so much that ya didn’t get cold from being out in that storm. Don’cha know when to get in outta the rain?”

Her teasing was having an annoyingly soothing effect.

“Just because flash flooding is a symptom of climate change and not caused by the supernatural doesn’t mean we sit around on our hands when there’s work to be done.” Crowley crossed his arms over the blanket, aware that he looked and was acting petulant, but unable to avoid it. “How the bloody hell was I supposed to know that…”

He attempted to cover up his sudden discomfort by relieving Donna of the teacup and taking a considerable swallow.

Her smile took on a softer quality to it. “That yer this close to being fully human?”

“Bah.” Crowley sputtered around the teacup. “Bloody nuisance is all it is.”

“Well,” the hunter pulled a small fold-out table close and set the tray on it. “Somehow, I don’ think the people that you pulled to safety in that bit of high water would say the same.”

The reformed demon evaded her eyes, munching on a biscuit.

“And, as a reward for your heroic efforts,” Donna picked up the remote and began to zap through the channels on the TV, “while Sam and Dean are off solving that case here in town, you’re gonna get the royal treatment here at Hanscum Spa and Wellness Resort! You got yer blanket and pillow, yer moisturizing tissues, at least three kinds a’ tea, and all the streaming services a person could want!”

Crowley grunted, considering.

“And, I’ll be here if ya need anything. Just holler!” Donna gave him a solid pat on the shoulder, in a very MidWestern way of attempting to buck him up. “Waitin’ on ya hand and foot, till the Wichesters get back or yer well enough to drive yerself home. Not a bad set-up, huh?”

No, it was not, Crowley had to admit to himself. He did not particularly enjoy feeling under the weather – it was certainly not something he had missed from his human years – but there were certainly worst people in whose care Crowley might have found himself. And he very much liked the sound of an afternoon or two of nothing but tea, biscuits, and telly.

“As it seems I have no choice,” he griped.

“Good!” Donna slapped him on the arm again, approvingly. “Whatcha wanna watch?”

Crowley considered it. A small smile curled up from out of his beard, and he gave the hunter a sly, teasing look.

“How about…How To Build A Sex Room?”

“Oh! I been wanting to watch that for ages!” Donna clapped her hands, practically beaming.

If there was anyone that Crowley could enjoy that ridiculously frivolous show with, it would be her. Or maybe Dean. The hunter could sometimes be really good to watch reality tv with, especially when it involved relationships, drama, and interior decorating. He’d once threatened to kill Crowley if the demon ever suggested such a thing to anyone, and it had been a memorable moment – the first time Dean Winchester had threatened to kill him, and they had both known it was a complete bluff.

“There’s just one thing we have to do first.” She reached for the vial on the tray.

“If that’s what I think it is,” Crowley said as sternly as he could muster, “then you can just forget about it. I’m not taking any cough syrup or bloody get-well spell, or whatever the hell that might be!”

“Oh,” Donna smiled, and it was feral in its brightness. “But’cha are.”

“Nooo,” Crowley made a surreptitious attempt to escape by sinking into and transporting himself through the pillows, “I’m bloody well not.”

But there was no escaping the good intentions of Donna Hanscum, and Crowley knew it. Even as he screwed shut his mouth and glared with all his demonic worth – which, apparently, wasn’t very much – the spoon drew nearer and nearer. The thick, green, almost gelatinous liquid threatened to spill over the side. It smelled horrid.

Being sick truly was an unpleasant experience, Crowley decided.

“Now,” Donna said cheerfully, “open wide!”

A bit under the weather myself with a slight head cold, which reminded me of this little ficlet I wrote and never posted. Set in the One of the Boys universe, where Crowley closed the Gates of Hell and permanently joined the boys.

#crowley #crowley deserved better #spn ficlet #spn #one of the boys #my fic

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galacticgraffiti · 2 years

Text

𑁍⋆ Eya - Ep.I ⋆𑁍

I am writing a series of drabbles involving my OC Eya and their job as a bouncer at 79's, their backstory, the people they meet... This is the first of them, so - meet Eya!

Rating: Teen and up Wordcount: 3k Characters: Eya (Mando!Nautolan!OC), Captain Storm (Clone OC belonging to @book-of-baba-fett) and allusions to Talia (who also belongs to Nat), mention of Raia (OC belonging to @cyarbika), Fives, Captain Rex Warnings: mild violence in Eya's capacity as a bouncer, hostility and degrading language against clones, unwanted touching, one insult against sex workers/customer calling a dancer a 'whore', allusions to a mildly angsty backstory. Just to avoid any confusion: Eya is also referred to by their full name - Kyreya. Eya uses they/them pronouns.

Eya Artwork ⋆ Eya's Charactersheet ⋆ My Masterlist

───── ⋆⋅𑁍⋅⋆ ─────

Meeting the Captain

One night at 79's, 19BBY

Kyreya eyes the broad trooper next to them. He shifts, his scent wafting in Eya’s direction. Their tendrils start tingling with an odd sensation – the trooper’s deep affection washes over them, but the rare kind, the kind that is not romantic and instead feels like family. It is one of the quite rare occasions that Kyreya does not dislike being able to read pheromones while working at a club. The feeling is odd, though, at least from what Eya can discern of the situation:

The man next to them is watching someone who cannot possibly be his family. He is a clone trooper- his only family are his vode; he does not have a sister, it is impossible. And yet, he is watching a woman, pale, slender, with long silver hair. And the feeling that flows from him is one that Eya knows best from their older sibling: Concern, love… a deep affection ingrained in their being with a hint of simultaneous disapproval. The trooper smells like Eya’s sibling smelled when they found them leaving the water alone way too early for their age.

Kyreya is fascinated by this woman the trooper is watching. She is tiny, at least compared to Eya’s frame, would barely reach their chest. And yet, her presence seems to command whoever surrounds her, the sway of her hair mesmerising in the strobing lights. Eya’s tendrils curl - they are not jealous, exactly. Hair seems like such a hassle to take care of, but at the same time, Eya wonders what it might feel like, soft and silver and flowy against their cheek…

The blonde woman seems to be in kahoots with a Captain Eya vaguely recognizes - Dex, or Rex or something like that. The dancers like him because he’s nice, though he never orders anything special, unlike many of the other commanding officers. The feeling the trooper next to her emits change as he watches the two of them. It’s not jealousy, not at all… it’s worry. Kyreya scrunches their nose.

“Relax, dude. The captain is a good guy.”

The man startles and looks over, his eyes flicking up and down Eya’s tall, broad frame. Mistrust rises from his skin with such force that it would make Eya’s eyes water if they had any moisture to spare in this hellish atmosphere. The trooper’s eyes don’t linger on Eya’s mismatched ones, and they quietly thank the merciful Ocean Spirit that troopers seem to be used to cybernetics.

“What?” The trooper’s voice is calm, though his emotions betray him in ways he cannot control.

“You’re watching these two like an overconcerned older brother. Have been all night. He’s your vod… I mean, I know that doesn’t mean there ain’t a few rotten fish in the net. But I also know that little blond trooper isn’t one of the rotten ones.”

The guy stares at her, one eyebrow raised, his lip twitching. The tattoos on his chin exaggerate every microscopic expression. The gold line that runs from the bottom of his lip down his chin intrigues Eya, makes them wonder how the artist got the pigment to shine through the skin… Maybe they’ll ask. Might be worth looking into for their next tattoo.

The trooper presses his lips together under the intense stare that is fixated on him, and Eya blinks with their good eye, even though they don’t technically need to. Blinking appeases humans though, and the cybernetic eye can be somewhat… unnerving, though it is doubtful that this is what makes the Captain next to Eya twitch. He clears his throat.

“And how would you know that?”

“Look, I’ve been a bouncer here for months. I know the bad guys… and usually, they don’t return after they’ve met me.” A tinge of pride sneaks into Kyreya’s voice. “But the captain - he seems well liked, by the servers as well as the dancers. Your little friend will be safe with him, I’m quite sure.”

The man grumbles something, but then nods.

“It’s not that I’m worried about,” he concedes. “It’s just… they shouldn’t be this close.”

The blunt statement confuses Eya even more.

“But you’re not jealous, I can tell that much,” they say and gently sway their head, their tentacles curling in the air, though they are careful not to let them touch the trooper. Some humans find it strange, and aside from that it would be rude to do so without being invited.

The trooper leans back a little and looks at Eya; his eyes filled with mistrust as much as curiosity.

“How do you- ah. Forgot about the…” the man hesitates, then vaguely gestures at Eya’s head. “…that whole thing Nautolans got going on.”

A low laugh escapes Eya’s lips. Really, the lengths people will go to not to offend other species is sometimes more trouble than it seems worth. Not everyone’s view, perhaps, but… why beat around the bush when you could just state clearly what you mean?

“If you mean the fact that I can sense and decipher the chemicals your body releases, then yes. It’s surprisingly helpful in breaking up fights. Can always tell the real arseholes from the drunkards.” Kyreya chuckles and takes a sip of their beer.

A smile tugs on the lips of the trooper. He shifts and turns around to face Eya properly, his kama hanging heavy from his hips.

“Captain Storm,” he says and holds out his hand. Eya’s lips twitch. Another human habit one has to get used to.

“Kyreya,” they answer, enclosing the Captain’s hand in their own, lilac skin against tan fingers. Storm’s eyes go a little wide before he returns to his carefully neutral expression.

“Sounds familiar,” he mumbles.

“What?” Panic shoots through Eya - he can’t know, how would he know? His aura has not changed, his signature reads as calm - calmer than when their conversation started, even. He can’t know Eya’s name-

“Just meant that you know the sound of your mothertongue, learn to recognise it even when you don’t expect it.” Storm doesn’t seem inclined to say more, quietly sipping his drink. Eya lets out a breath. Ah. Shouldn’t have used their full name. Of course he of all people would recognise the name to be Mando’a. Eya has heard enough troopers call each other vod, has read enough graffiti in the language of their people to know that the troopers share the Manda.

“Jahaa’la urci, mando’ad.” If he knows anyway, might as well go all in. Mandalorians are too rare in the galaxy to waste this opportunity to connect. Storm’s eyebrows shoot up, and Eya can feel the surprise that surrounds him like a shadow.

“So I was right. I thought maybe… well. Doesn’t matter. Jahaa’la urci, mando’ad.”

Both of them fall silent, but this time, it is comfortable. Content. Eya pulls out a hydro-cig and takes a drag. The fresh water coating their lungs feels like heaven, and they sigh happily. Captain Storm looks over his shoulder, but when Eya turns around to search for the trooper and the blonde woman again, they are gone. Storm groans, then shrugs and turns back to the bar.

“Not my army, not my soldiers.”

Eya cannot suppress the rough giggle that rises in their throat.

“We have a similar saying… my people, I mean. ‘Not my waters, not my fish-friends’, is probably the closest of a translation I could give you.”

A smile lights up Storms face at their words, deep thundering laughter rising from his chest. It’s short, like a storm breaking only to move on before a second thunderclap can resound. Eya wonders distantly if that is how he got his name.

Another few minutes pass in easy silence, both of them sipping their drinks in peace. Storm does not seem like one for small-talk, and Eya does not mind the silence at all. In fact, it’s a nice change from the chatter that usually surrounds them.

A faint whiff of anger makes Eya’s tendrils curl and recoil. They look around, and sure enough, some patron is trying to pull away one of the dancers from a trooper’s lap. The patron - clearly not a clone with his pale white skin and too long limbs - seems enraged, and the trooper is getting worked up as well, holding on to the dancer like a child whose doll is getting taken away from them. Apparently, he does not care that his grip will bruise her skin, will hurt her - too caught up in the moment. Fucking shinies. Don’t know how to behave, sometimes just as much as the natborn patrons.

Eya sighs deeply, nodding at Storm when he looks over at them with a raised brow.

“I’ll be right back, man.”

They get up, their full height imposing to the mostly human crowd surrounding them. Even the troopers barely come up to Eya’s shoulders. Kyreya cracks their neck and knocks the knuckle spikes implanted in their hands together. The sound makes Storm shiver and he turns around, but before he can ask about them, Eya storms off. The crowd parts in front of them - whether it be because of their tall frame or the look of sheer anger on their face, it does not matter. They stop right next to the pale man whose fingers are closed around the dancer’s delicate wrist as he impatiently tugs at her.

“Come with me, doll, I’ll pay so much better than this sad copy of a man, I’ll treat you right-“

“Let. Go.” Eya’s voice is deadly, the husky timbre cutting through the air like a lightsabre through metal. The look on the dancer’s face changes from fear and disgust to relief… and a somewhat malicious joy.

“Hmm, you’re in for it now, boys.” She’s one of the new ones, and Eya’s memory for names is terrible, to say the least. But she always seems nice.

Eya winks at her, then stares down the trooper whose fingers still dig into the girl’s waist, trying to pull her back into his lap.

“You too, trooper. Let go of her. She’s not yours, no matter what the wonderful propaganda of the GAR tells you you’ll get as a reward when you return home from your senseless war.”

The trooper lets go of the dancer as if burned.

“Sorry, Ma-“

“I swear to Nephto, if you call me Ma’am I’ll give you one Keldabe kiss you’ll never forget, boy,” Eya grits out.

“I’m sorry, M- I’m sorry!”

Before Eya can nod, a slimy voice cuts in.

“Thank you. I was trying to make it clear to this… creation, that she’s mine. Or she should be.”

Whatever mix of emotions the pale man emits, it nearly makes Eya gag. When the trooper’s rude behaviour was just slightly drunken ignorance, this man’s actions were intentional. Kyreya turns around slowly, their eyes fixed on the long, thin fingers still wrapped around the dancer’s wrist. Their pale cybernetic eye whirs quietly, and the man stares and stares. It would be rude under any circumstances, but right now, it is the drop that makes Kyreya boil over.

“I did not do this for you.” Their voice is so cold that the pale man recoils, and yet still he does not let go. Eya knocks their fists together again, and the bell-like sound of pure beskar knocking against pure beskar when their mereve beskar meet slices through the air like a freshly sharpened blade. “If you want those fingers to ever be able to touch anything again, you will let go of her and remove yourself from this establishment. Right. Now.”

Eya leans forward, even though the man’s scent makes their throat close up and their gills flutter weakly. They bring their face so close to the other man that they can see the droplets of sweat threating to run into his eyes, can small the fear when they speak on.

“Or I’ll pry your fingers open. And I promise you they won’t be good for holding anything after that for a while.”

The pale man stares at them, a look of disgusted defiance on his face, even though he reeks are pure dread.

“Fine. Keep your whore. But I’m not leaving, I’m a paying customer, better, in fact, than any of these weird little tube-made freaks and-“

He does not finish his sentence before Kyreya’s fist collides with his temple. The force is enough to make him sag to the ground, even though Eya is careful not to let the spikes of the mereve beskar puncture his skin. They would not want a death inside the establishment on their hands. Killing people… not acceptable. Not here, not now. Not anymore.

Eya lifts the pale man up by his collar and lightly taps his cheek until he wakes up. His eyes shoot open and focus, and the fear that crackles through the air when he recognises who is holding him like a disobedient loth-kitten tastes nothing short of delicious. Eya smiles, baring their sharpened silver-coated teeth.

“Touching the dancers without their permission? That alone is enough reason to never let you in here again,” Eya says, then raises their voice for the rest. “But coming to a KRIFFING CLONE BAR JUST TO INSULT CLONES-“

A joyful voice cuts in from beside them.

“KAYSH MIRSH SOLUS, NAYC, VODE?”

Eya rolls their eyes when the troopers in the bar cheer loudly. There’s only one man who would do this, one man who loves the attention and the drama. Eya drops the pale man to the floor, cackling as he scrambles away and out of the bar as fast as his skinny little legs will take him. Then they turn around to ruffle the hair of the trooper standing next to them.

“Hey there, Fives.”

Fives stands up on his tiptoes to knock his head against theirs with full force, even though he can barely reach even when Eya bends down a little to meet him.

“KYREYA CYARE.”

“Oh fuck off,” Eya laughs. “If you call me that one more time-“

“Yeah yeah, you’ll knock the Five clean off my head. That’s what you always say.” Fives grins. One of Eya’s tentacles curls around his neck in a hug - with Fives, that’s allowed. They breathe in the joy and comfort that surrounds the familiar trooper. Much needed relief floods them at Fives’s not exactly calming, but nonetheless welcome presence. Especially after having to get so close the disgusting slimy pale man, Fives feels like a palate cleanser.

“What are you doing here?” Eya asks, then shrugs. “Ah- I saw your Captain earlier. Got distracted before I could look for you. What’s he called again? Dex?”

“Rex,” Fives corrects and laughs, slinging one arm jovially around Eya’s shoulders although they have to bend down for him to do so. “Seriously, you must be the only person in the galaxy who can’t remember his name. Man’s a fucking war hero.”

So was I, to some people. Eya wants to say. And to others, I was the villain, the criminal, the nightmare they don’t tell their children about. And I don’t know who was right about me.

They don’t say any of that. Instead, they just shrug, prying themselves loose from Fives’s arm so they can move freely again, one of their tendrils curled around the trooper’s shoulder.

“I made a new friend tonight. You wanna meet him?”

“You? Made friends?” Fives elbows them in the side, and Eya does their best to suppress a wince. Wrong side wrong side wrong side-

“I thought you didn’t talk enough for that to happen,” Fives jokes. He didn’t notice, then. Good.

“Hm,” Kyreya answers noncommittally. “Very funny. And incidentally, neither does he. Was watching your Captain and this woman-“

“Cap’s got a woman?” Fives interrupts, nearly vibrating with excitement. “Excuse me, but that I gotta go see for myself, I’m gonna-“

And just like that, he is gone, stumbling through the crowd while flashing wide smiles in every direction. Eya shakes their head, and trots back towards the bar. Fives is an ocean of chaos, his own little maelstrom in the middle of an already wild sea. They love him to death for it.

Storm nods when Eya sits back down next to him and flags down the bartender, Raia, for some water. Eya is parched, and hastily takes a few drags of their hydro-cig. The bartenders always have so much to do, but Raia knows how much energy and water these little fights take out of Eya. The two of them have been friends for nearly as long as they have worked here, and the water appears in front of them in no time. Eya shoots Raia a grateful look, and the Togruta winks and blows them a kiss. If Eya could blush, they would. Instead, their tendrils start doing an excited little dance, and Eya quickly brushes them back - not that Raia would know what it means, but it feels… oddly private.

Storm has been silently watching the interaction – somehow, he manages to not feel obtrusive, merely mildly interested. Kyreya can feel the curiosity emanating from Storm, but he does not ask about Raia, nor about the way Eya’s tendrils still jitter behind their back. There is a twinkle of knowing amusement in Storms’s eyes though when he claps a hand on Eya’s shoulder.

“Well done. With the fight, I mean. Appreciate you stickin’ up for us troopers.” He seems genuinely grateful, and Eya smiles.

“No thanks needed, Captain. You all deserve better than that. So much better. Wouldn’t have taken this job if I didn’t think so.”

Storm nods imperceptibly, then shrugs.

“Still. Next round’s on me.”

Eya’s tendrils curl in quiet happiness. A friend.

───── ⋆⋅𑁍⋅⋆ ─────

Mando’a Translations:

kyreya - escaper of death

jahaa’la urci, mando’ad - well met, (fellow) mandalorian.

mereve beskar - beskar fists

kaysh mirsh solus, nayc, vode - his braincell must be lonely, right, brothers?

kyreya cyare - beloved kyreya

───── ⋆⋅𑁍⋅⋆ ─────

I'm tagging the people from my 'ALL' taglist in this.

If you want to be added to my Taglist, please fill out this form.

If you are already on my taglist but do not want to be tagged in OC content, please just shoot me an ask or a message to remove you! Thank you ❥

@aeryntheofficial @rescuethewretched @deewithani @thefact0rygirl @clonecyare @baba-fett @rowansparrow @tenderclio @twistedstitcher27 @spaceydragons @maygalodon @samanthacookieone @fennccshand @equalityforcats @ashotofspotchka @troubleonryloth @levi-llama @bobaafetts @fantastic-commander-fox @thesithformerlyknownaskenobi @lackofhonor @a-c-lee @imalovernotahater @ladykatakuri @solidago-sempervirens @meabravo @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @fivedicksinatrenchcoat @corrabell @bucketbunny @sharpbarnacle @amcheeken @snarwor @basilbumble @dear-fifi @dollydee28 @snakerune @rexscyarika @misogirl828 @stcrmhond @damerondala

#galawrites #gala’s ocs #oc eya #eya's adventures #nautolan!oc #mandalorian!oc #other people's ocs #captain storm #talia (illicit affairs)#raia (no strings attached)

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itjazzbicch · 2 years

Text

Back Home

Pairing: Roman Reigns x Fem Reader

Summary: After a long work week, the readers happy her husband, Roman is finally back home and he learns how much she missed him…

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ ONLY!) (Swearing, fingering, oral fem receiving, bit rough sex, cream pie)

Requested by: @sorryimshannoon (I hope you enjoy it!)

Word Count: 1.3k

Tag List: @demonqueen29 @peachy-satan00 @new-zealand-chic @crowleysqueenofhell l @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @thatpanpal @damnnhausen @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @linziland13 @xxx-jazz-xxx @writtingrose @whenimakeitshine1234 @cuzimacomedian

I DO NOT OWN THIS GIF

The sound of his voice, him laying next to me in bed. I never intended to be the clingy type but when Roman would be gone for days and days like this, it was hard not miss him and his essence in every way.

Steam filled the bathroom from my shower, turning off the music and wrapping myself in my robe when I finished drying off, head tilting as I heard a noise.

First I poked my head out, thinking it was from our bedroom, but hearing it from downstairs. It could only be one person, face lighting up with a smile when seeing Roman downstairs, just getting back home.

"Hey baby," He smiled softly, looking up to me on the stairs.

My favorite thing from when he came home was one of his hugs, snug and tight in his arms, always feeling safe and loved, still blessed that this man was really my husband.

Looking up into his eyes, I noticed a wet spot on his shirt from his hair, giggling:

“Sorry, baby. I was just in the shower.”

“I can tell, walking around like this,” He smirked, taking a handful of my ass while kissing me, hearing moisture while taking more, whispering against my lips, “That ain’t from the shower.”

He could always put butterflies in my stomach, feeling a slight shyness in my smile, unable to look him in the eye.

“What were you doing in the shower?” He tilted to look into my eyes, having me stuttering softly:

“I- ju; I just missed you, Roman. It’s been a week.”

“Just couldn’t wait for me to get home?” His hand went under my robe, fingers sliding between my thighs, running through my folds to feel how wet I was just from thinking about him in the shower, taking a soft hold on his shirt and biting my lip at the feeling of him slipping in slowly, “Missed me a lot, hm?”

“All I was doing was fantasizing, baby,” I cooed, hand naturally falling to palm him, “You know you missed me too.”

That earned a slight chuckle, kissing softly, “Well, you don’t have to fantasize anymore.”

Roman could never help and give in after a time period like this, being tossed up into his arms with a kiss, carrying me up the stairs and back to our bedroom, still able to feel the steam from the shower.

“Damn,” Roman sighed, laying me down to toss off his shirt, “Had you feeling real hot in there.”

I wasn’t really paying attention, but heard and nodded, too focused on his god-like body, tattoos that I always admired, even more lustful watching his hair fall to his shoulders, stepping out of his joggers and boxers.

“Fuck, Roman,” I gasped, already beyond impatient and throwing my robe across the room, going to pull him up for a kiss, but he took my wrists and pinned me down to the bed.

“I didn’t even do anything,” A chuckle trickled into my ear, fixing his position with my thighs over his, “Tell me first, what were you thinking about in there?”

I needed a deep breath, earning a slow grind when I retraced my memory:

“Just hot your body gets against mine, how hot your kisses get literally anywhere on me, your strength and how you just, rock my shit.”

“How hot my body is?” He pressed his chest into mine, having my head nodding while grinding again against his shaft, working me up more, “And my kisses are hot?”

I didn’t need to respond, a slight gasp and hum when he kissed at my neck, travelling down to kiss all over, nerves shocked and already making my back arch with his lips closing around my clit, hooking my knees over his shoulder.

“Soo hot, baby,” I whined at the feeling of being eaten, his beard creating a delicious burn at my inner thighs, mouth wide open and tongue going through me in about every way possible.

My hand went to take some of his hair and he sure showed strength, taking my wrists and keeping them down again, sucking my clit even harder, moaning and whining louder, thighs squeezing his head to make up for the contact.

“Roman,” I gasped for air, body going through sudden jerks, beginning to grind against his face, glancing down into his eyes and knowing I never needed to tell him, just moaning out his name when coming undone, a hum from him rattling my nerves even more, at a never ending high even when he set my hips back down softly, wiping at his chin.

“I think you mentioned one more thing,” He looked down through his hair, spreading my legs wide and taking his stance, cock at my soaked, spasming entrance, unable to help his laugh, “Said I rock your shit?”

I nodded my head quickly, dying for the feeling of him inside of me, “Every time.”

“Damn right,” He growled, going slow at first, giving a few inches then slamming into me.

His mouth could do some amazing things, but there was no feeling like this, squeezing him so hard already, eyes shut tight and needing grab at something, holding the pillow above me for dear life, getting a series of rough thrusts, beginning to come at me faster and faster.

“Roman, baby,” I cried out, needing him desperately and he knew that, coming chest to chest again, my arms hooking under his and legs latching around his hips.

I didn’t try to be so easily defeated, grinding hips, but his strength was just too great for mine, body being slammed down into the bed too, bed rocking with such force moving forward.

“Better than you little fantasies, right?” He whispered in my ear, love bites at my neck when I began scratching at his back, tensing up around him even more.

“They aren’t even close to this,” My voice began to break into wails, his hands resting on my thighs and pushing them up till my feet were at the bed frame, stomach feeling all the impact while my walls grew so tight that my whole body tried to curl, spasming growing faster and harder too.

“The real deal’s always better,” Those sexy eyes spoke through his hair, flipping it back and biting his lip, speeding off like a jackhammer and bottoming out, knowing I was close again and wanting it, “Now, cum for me, baby”

“I am, Roman!” White flashed behind my eyes, knuckles aching from grabbing the sheets so hard, screaming out his name and gushing out, a sting in my chest from panting so hard, some tears in my eyes but it felt so good.

Getting fucked right through it made his thrust slow a little, it taking its wave over him and having him throbbing hard, another feeling I loved so much, how hot his dick was inside of me, shooting his warmth and it always made me feeling like I was going to melt.

“Damn, I love that,” He whispered softly, pulling back a little and pushing all his cum back in and keeping his hips against mine.

“Me too, baby,” I breathed, eyes still closed with a hum, “I love it so much.”

“It’s always a nice thing to come home too,” My eyes fixed to see his smile, leaning down to hug me, rubbing my side to ease some of my tension.

“Can we always do this when you come back?” I toyed, “You’re something else after it’s been a while.”

His smiles made it obvious that he wasn’t opposed to the idea, but kissing proudly, “I’m always something else, baby.”

#wrestling #wrestling imagine #wrestling fic #wrestling smut #wrestling one shot #wwe #wwe imagine #wwe fic #wwe smut #wwe oneshot #roman reigns #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns fic #roman reigns smut #roman reigns oneshot #request #read and joy

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girlwiththepapatattoo · 2 years

Text

Protocols for the Exceptionally Lonely, Chapter 5

Warnings: smut, oral sex, a brief moment at the end of unprotected sex (wrap it up folks), also a brief moment of Kenpachi restraining one of her arms, Kenpachi being himself

Pairing: Zaraki Kenpachi x Original Female Character

Summary: In which Kenpachi and Akane get even closer.

Notes: Happy Friday, everyone! Have some smut! XD I hope that you all enjoy, and if you see any errors let me know, I edited this half asleep. Also, if anyone would like to be tagged in this when I put chapters up? Let me know that too!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Read on Ao3 here!

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Despite their fight being so intense, Akane still manages to heal both her wounds and Kenpachi’s. She may have damaged him, but he regularly comes into her clinic much worse off. They walk off the field and back to his–their–quarters with his arm slung around her shoulders, dirty and covered in bloodstains, but in high spirits. “So how the hell were you able to cut me with a bokken?” he asks curiously, a hint of lingering delight in his voice.

Pulled from enjoying his companionable touch, she glances up at him, then smiles. “My specialty is the extreme control I have over my reiatsu. It allows me to heal with a much greater precision and speed, and it also assists me in combat, as you have seen. I can layer my reiatsu onto anything and use it to cut, or use it in hand to hand to make my punches and kicks land harder. I’ve been practicing it for decades, long before I came to the Seireitei.”

He ponders that as he opens the door to their quarters and steps in. That feeling she got earlier, of the loneliness of the void evoked by the spartan atmosphere, tries to press on her again, and she resolutely pushes it back. That’s going to need to change quickly, she thinks. “What’s your zanpakuto spirit?” he finally asks.

“His name is Oushiza,” she replies as they take their shoes off near the door. “His invoking words are ‘Hogo suru.’ My shikai is a suit of armor that enhances my reiatsu control even further, and gives me defensive capabilities.”

He eyes her, then snorts in amusement. “Yeah, that makes sense.” She raises a questioning eyebrow at him as they walk down the hall, and he gently bumps his arm against her shoulder. “I’m callin’ you stubborn.”

“How original,” she quips, nudging his arm back and making him chuckle. “Would you like the bath first?”

He gives her a look. “Why the fuck wouldn’t we share?”

She freezes, then swallows hard and forces herself to relax. “Would you like me to join you then?”

“Yeah, I do.” He pauses, looking a little awkward. “...but I’m not gonna force you either. Do you want to join me?”

She takes a deep breath, and he can almost see her visibly getting a handle on her nerves. “I do, yes.” He gives her a look, like he doesn’t believe her, before she firms her gaze. “Kenpachi, I do wish to join you. Truthfully.” She flushes and looks down. “I…it must be obvious by now that I desire you, but as I’ve said, it’s been a while. I apologize for my anxiety.”

“Tch.” He leans down, getting right into her face. “Stop with that fuckin’ formality, Akane.” Her eyes widen. “You don’t have to apologize for that. I get it. How often do you think I get any offers with a mug like mine?” He grins, a lopsided, self-deprecating look that she immediately dislikes. “I ain’t gonna win any beauty contests.” Then the smile fades, and his hand comes up, fingers gently trapping her chin. “What’s fuckin’ important, though, is that we want each other. I’m happy to let whatever happens, happen. At your pace.” Then he grins again, but this time it’s…hungry. “Just try not to keep me waitin’ too long.”

He lets her go and strides into the bathroom, already shrugging out of his clothes. She quivers faintly, tries to work some moisture back into her suddenly dry mouth, and follows him in.

Her eyes immediately seek him out, and she’s not disappointed. She’s treated to a wonderful display of flexing back muscles as he sheds his shihakusho and haori. Her eyes widen as he nearly ripples, before his hands go to his obi. Without any hesitation his hakama are pushed to the floor, his underwear along with them. His ass is just as well muscled as the rest of him, and she quells her first urge to walk right up and cup one cheek. She’s given a further amazing sight as he bends and lifts one foot to remove his sock, then the other, and she can see his balls hanging heavy between his legs. Her heart pounds as he tosses his dirty clothes back towards the door, and turns to fully face her.

Kenpachi is magnificent, she realizes. She’s known for years now how thick with muscle this man is, but that was in a professional, healer’s setting. This is…very much not that. This is intimate, the tension beginning to settle on her shoulders like a cloak as she gazes at him. He watches her pupils begin to blow wide as her eyes drink him in, and he can’t help a bit of a smug grin. He may have some…issues with what his face looks like, but below his jawline? He knows he’s well built.

His chest is all hard plains, and after the workout of the fight his abs are fairly well defined. Other than what’s on his head he’s almost hairless, though he does have a faint dusting of pubic hair around his groin. His thighs are long and thick with muscle, calves sharply defined against his legs, leading down to surprisingly small ankles and large, bony feet.

And his cock…He’s certainly proportionate, she thinks with wide eyes, watching it gently shift with his movement. Long and thick, sporting maybe a quarter of an erection after the combination of earlier, the fight, and the tension mounting now, the very tip peeking out of his foreskin.

He has almost no body fat, a stark contrast to her own form, a fact that she’s becoming more and more aware of as she stares at him. He watches her expression go from open admiration and lust to closed off and nervous in a matter of about thirty seconds. “Hey.” Her eyes snap back to his, and he steps right into her space. Before she could move away his arm is wrapping around her, lifting her clear off the floor so they’re eye level, and she gasps and presses her hands to his bare shoulders for balance. This close his scent washes over her, sweat from the exertion from earlier and the soap he uses, the combination extremely alluring. His visible eye is stern as he stares into her gaze. “None of that,” he rumbles, gentle but serious. “You’re fuckin’ gorgeous, Akane. I’ve wanted to see what’s under your clothes for a long damn time now. I don’t give a shit that you’ve got some fat to you.” He grins, sharp and predatory. “Just more places I get to leave my mark.” He leans in to growl, “and more places for me to grab.” He turns his head and nips gently and playfully at her earlobe, making her shudder and clutch at him. “You understand me, Akane?”

“Y-Yes, Kenpachi,” she whispers.

“You gonna show me that sexy body of yours?”

His words are making heat curl distractingly between her legs. She licks her lips, but meets his eyes. “Yes, Kenpachi.”

His grin returns, and he slowly lets her slide down his body, letting her feel every hard plane of muscle he has to offer on the way. His cock is half hard now, pressing insistently against her hip as her toes touch the ground. She can feel her panties sticking to her, her clit beginning to ache for him. Then he steps away and crosses his arms expectantly.

She takes a steadying, if shaky, deep breath in, and her hands go to her obi. The knot comes untied, and she shrugs out of her clothes in one smooth motion, leaving her in her bra, panties, and socks. She quickly takes the latter off, before looking up to Kenpachi to gauge his reaction. His eye is flicking slowly over her form, and she can almost feel it like the brush of his fingertips. Goosebumps raise on her skin, and she can feel her nipples tightening. She thanks whatever gods steered her hand in choosing her undergarments that morning, as they do match: a burgundy color that looks like a decadent wine against her skin. The design of both is simple, but the effect is perfect to Kenpachi, who’s gray-green eye is darkening rapidly.

“Bra,” he rasps. “Off.” She quickly obeys, not wanting the garment from the human world to fall prey to his impatience. She goes to pull off her panties as well, but he stops her before she could. He steps forward, leaning down to press his chest against hers, and his hands curve down her back and over her ass, pushing her underwear down just under her cheeks. He lifts her once more, setting her butt down on the counter, her legs spread wide around his hips to accommodate his closeness. He moves back very slightly, enough to press a hand to her chest to get her to lean back a little, his eyes taking in her torso.

Wide, strong shoulders curve down to muscular, thick arms, though most of the heaviness ends before her elbows. Her forearms are impressively defined, tapering to strong wrists and hands, though he well knows she’s capable of a delicate touch. Her breasts are heavy, creamy skin tipped with dusky nipples that are all but begging for his touch. The curve of her stomach looks buttery soft, and if he weren’t becoming increasingly distracted by the thought of other things he’d like to lay his cheek on it. Her thighs are once more thick with strength, large but shapely calves narrow to a pair of ankles he knows he’s going to love wrapping his hands around. His eye flicks back to hers, and she’s watching him, still aroused but nervous for his reaction.

“Fuck,” he snarls, and to her surprise he drops to his knees before her. Her eyes widen as he leans forward, takes her panties between his teeth and, keeping devastating eye contact the entire time, draws them slowly down her legs.

Her core clenches at the shockingly sensual move. She’d expected him to rip them off (which also would have been extremely hot, but for a very different reason). He pulls them off her feet and tosses them aside, his huge and calloused hands pressing to her knees to part them. His eye dips down to her core, and his lips spread in one of those predatory grins as he watches her drip gently onto the counter. “That’s what I like to see,” he purrs. His eye flicks back up as he leans down and presses those beautiful, dangerous lips to her ankle, and he kisses a slow line of fire up her leg, stopping only to suck a dark bruise just above her knee.

Any hint of self-consciousness is gone as arousal sweeps through her, searing her nerves and making her whimper his name. He rumbles in approval at the sound as he nears her inner thigh, her legs spread wide to give him room to work. His tongue suddenly flicks against her innermost thigh, making her strangle a moan in her throat, so close to where she needs it but still so maddeningly far away. His eye is still holding hers as he leans in and blows a hot breath over her aching and slick core. She hisses in need as her body jerks toward him at the sensation. He grins, licks his lips, so close she can imagine she almost feels it…before he moves away, starting to kiss a path back down her other leg. She whines in protest, making him laugh darkly as he gives her a matching bruise on her right knee.

“O-Of all the times for you to show some patience,” she gasps, reaching out and sinking a hand into his wild mane.

“I can be patient,” he rumbles against her shin. “When I wanna be.” He bites at her ankle playfully, pulling a gasp from her throat. “Fuck, you make the prettiest noises.” He kisses his way back up her leg, bypassing her core once more, brushes his lips over her belly, up the valley between her breasts, slides his nose and tongue over her neck and leaves her breathless all in the span of about ten seconds. Then, suddenly they’re face to face, staring into each other's eyes.

To his surprise, she’s the one who presses forward and kisses him. They both groan at the same time at the press of lips, hers soft and supple and a bit out of practice, his soft and slightly chapped and a bit out of practice.

But it’s perfect anyway.

Her arms wrap around his neck, and his wrap around the small of her back. They kiss slowly, tentatively, learning their way around each other in much the same way they have been all day. She’s surprised that he keeps it gentle, but she’s grateful as she relearns this ancient dance. She can’t know that he doesn’t have the presence of mind to make it any rougher, because he’s drowning in her. Her taste, her smell, the feel of her silky soft lips against his is driving him nuts. His arms tighten, pressing her against him as his tongue snakes out to flick at the seam of her mouth. This close, he feels her shiver against his form, and she opens for him, eagerly inviting his tongue inside. He dips in, the very flexible length sliding gently wherever he could reach, pressing to her teeth, curling against the inside of her lips before sliding firmly against her own tongue. She whimpers in the back of her throat, fire curling in every nerve but especially between her thighs, and her legs wrap around his waist.

A soft rumble filters up from his chest and into her mouth, evoking another moan. His hips can’t help but press to hers, his cock fully hard and aching for her touch, to be buried balls deep inside her.

To her dismay he pulls back, a thin string of saliva connecting their mouths for a moment before it breaks. They’re breathing hard, their eyes meeting as the tension mounts higher and higher, a thread pulling thin.

She swallows hard, throat bobbing.

The thread snaps. He kisses her again.

But he’s kissing her as if he wants to devour her right there. He kisses her now like he fights, overwhelming her, crushing her against his body, nipping playfully at her lips, teasing her tongue to chase his into his mouth so he can suck on it. She cries out, the sound muffled into his lips as he lifts her clear off the counter. He strides back out of the bathroom and down the hall, and she barely notices, too caught up in his mouth and with burying her fingers into his wild mane.

She definitely notices, however, when he lowers them both to his futon. She shivers as he breaks the kiss, brushing his nose over her jaw before lowering himself further. It seems he’s done talking now as he leaves open mouthed kisses down her right breast, but he’s definitely not done with the devastating eye contact. He holds her gaze as his lips finally brush over her aching nipple, making her hiss at the pleasure. Then he’s sucking hard, his long fingers pinching the other, and her back arches clear off the bed. He chuckles in delight, the sound vibrating into her taut nerves, and her lower half squirms against him. “K-Kenpachi, please,” she gasps, and he only releases her nipple with a sharp ‘pop’ and begins to swirl his tongue around it. He’s grinning as he does so, that razor sharp grin, and to see that clever tongue rolling out of that dangerous grin sends a sharp punch of lust to her lower belly.

He gently grazes his teeth against her nipple, making her whimper desperately, before he switches to the other and gives it the same treatment. Unable to wait a moment longer for any kind of relief, her hand inches down, sliding through the curls between her thighs, finding her clit–and also finding that she’s absolutely drenched. But she doesn’t get more than a brush on the throbbing bud before he’s grabbed her wrist and pressed it down on the futon above her head. His eye glints dangerously as he pulls away from her breast to growl, “Don’t you fuckin’ dare. When you come, it’s gonna be on my mouth and my cock.” She swallows thickly, another bolt of lust heading straight between her legs. Then, to her surprise, she watches him visibly force himself to soften his features. He leans up, brushing his lips over her cheek and then over her earlobe, and he mumbles, “Let me take care of you.”

His sudden softness after such a rough display has her head spinning…but she can’t say it’s in a bad way. She swallows hard again, but lifts her left hand to join the right above her head. A smile curves its way over his lips, and without another word he settles between her thighs. Her legs go up and over his shoulders, his hands wrap around her thighs to keep her right where he wants her.

And he feasts.

He presses his tongue flat to her folds and licks a slow, achingly soft path up her slit. It feels like every muscle from her knees to her abs clench at once, and to his delight a curse slips past her lips. He grins up at her again, licking his lips as her taste bursts on his tongue. “If I knew this was the way to get you to say ‘fuck,’ I’d have done this years ago,” he chortles.

“S-Shut up and eat me,” she gasps out.

“Heh. Yes ma’am,” he purrs, and returns to his meal.

And just to get back at her a little for her lip, he presses his mouth around as much of her cunt as he can and sucks. Hard. She shrieks as it feels like every nerve in her pussy lights up at once, and her heels drum against his back before he lets go with another pop and a laugh at her reaction. She gasps for breath as his hands press up on the backs of her thighs, spreading her legs wide for him. He laps at her now, slow and thorough, dragging his tongue along her clit before starting once more nearly at her taint.

She feels sweat beading at her hairline. Her body’s on fire, the arousal threatening to consume her. He’s really fucking good at this, she realizes, unable to even tell he’s out of practice. And he is, actually, but considering this is their first time together and he’s gauging everything that makes her cry out? It doesn’t really matter.

And then his tongue slowly presses inside her, and nothing matters anymore.

Her hands fly from their place above her head to bury desperately into his hair as she screams his name. His nose is rubbing her clit and his long, clever tongue is fucking her and licking at the one spot on her top wall that makes every nerve along her spine ripple and her orgasm is rising already. The bottom drops out of her stomach as he hears her sounds change, unable to form the words to warn him but he picks up on it easily. He growls into her folds and doubles the pace of his tongue, and she explodes.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she’s worried, because it sounds like a woman is getting murdered somewhere close by. But the rest of her mind is occupied by the most overwhelming orgasm of her life. She grips Kenpachi’s hair for dear life as her hips writhe against his face, and it feels like her pleasure is crushing her much like his reiatsu does without his eye-patch. He’s all but snarling as he tongue-fucks her through it, his hips rolling against his bed in a desperate attempt to get some sort of relief on his cock as he feels her inner walls squeeze around the slick muscle inside her. He hasn’t been this aroused for someone in decades…if ever. But he’s not about to interrupt her mind-melting pleasure, and so he continues, slowing down only when it seems like her pleasure is, helping her down slowly until she’s boneless. Her hands slip from his hair, unable to summon the strength to grip it even gently anymore. She gasps for breath as he gifts her with tiny kitten licks, her muscles jumping with each press of his tongue. He lays a gentle kiss to her mound, watching her abs clenching in the aftershocks, her fingers twitching, her chest heaving as she tries to get air back into her lungs.

“Fuck, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful like this,” he whispers reverently.

She smiles at his words even through her hard breathing, and he reaches up and tenderly brushes a lock of sweat-soaked hair from her face. To her surprise, he stands and pads out of the room, only to return a minute later with a cup of water. He sits behind her, pulling her gently up and into his arms, letting her lean against his chest (a little smugly, because he knows for sure her muscles won’t hold her up right now). Once she’s breathing a little slower, he bids her to drink, one huge hand supporting the bottom of the glass just in case her shaking fingers drop it.

She’s…honestly surprised again. She would have figured he’d have waited for this until after he fucked her. And she knows that he needs her, his cock is rock-hard against her back. But her heart warms that he puts her needs before his own, though as he presses his nose to the damp hair at the nape of her neck to inhale the scent of her exertion, she knows he’s getting something out of it.

Rehydrated, she sets the cup aside. “You good?” he rumbles, one huge hand splaying across her soft belly. She nods, shivering at how sensitive her skin is now. “Good.” His voice changes into an almost menacing growl. “Because I’m not done with you yet.” He lifts her and, in one smooth motion, slides her down onto his cock.

#zaraki kenpachi #bleach fanfiction #kenpachi x oc #kenpachi smut

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