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loveshotzz · 11 months

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bouncer!steve x fem!reader steve’s night.

🎵 I finally found someone that can make me laugh, hahaha you so crazy, I think I wanna have your baby.🎵

summary: You’ve got a crush on the new bouncer at The Foxy Lounge. Turns out he’s not very good at his job.

word count: 13.6k

warnings: 18 + 90’s AU// Steve is in his early 30’s, Your date gets drunk and says some night nice things, some mild violence (bar fights), possessive steve, fingering, smut (p in v) cream pie, ass eating (f! receiving), oral (f! receiving), dirty talk.

authors note: It’s finally here! Part two of Whatta man! Steve’s night. You don’t have to read Eddie’s Night to read this one, I just think it’s more fun if you do 😉 There’s LOTS of bartender!eddie in this fic if you miss him though. (he’s your bff) This part has been a long time coming (since march lol) and I’m so happy to finally share this with you. Thank you to all of my friends who have had to listen to me talk about this for months and all of you guys who have sent me asks about our favorite boys at the foxy lounge! I wouldn’t of been able to do this with out your endless support, and excitement for this little world. Thank you, ily forever 💗

The perks of moving into the apartment that presides above The Foxy Lounge were vast for a single girl like yourself, but the perks of becoming friends with the bartender that worked there seemed to make them endless.

Memorized orders and free drinks when he was feeling nice (which he almost always was), he wore the crown of wingman of the century with pride, Eddie always made sure you had a good time. It was days like today that were your favorite though, heading home from a shitty morning shift at work, you weren’t surprised when you tugged on the front door an hour before open and it wasn’t locked. The annoyed look on his face told you he wasn’t either. An irritated groan leaves his chest at the carelessness of the owner and your landlord before popping the caps off two beers with ease. The loud clink of metal to glass echoes in the empty bar, as he flips his bottle opener between his fingers like muscle memory stuffing it in his back pocket.

“He’s gonna get us robbed one day, and I’m just gonna take my favorite bottle for damages and let them have the rest at this point.” His smile shows the lack of truth behind his words when you sit in the stool in front of him.

“Lucky for the both of you, it’s always just me.” Winking when you take a swig, the bitter liquid and the company eases the bad day out of your bones almost instantly.

The beginnings of a relaxed sigh start to push past your lips when the jarring sound of his rings slapping against the wood of the bar to the tune of a drum roll has you tense right back up. You’re unable to stop the slam of your beer before deadpanning, “you know I hate when you do that-“

“My best buddy Steve starts tomorrow night, I finally got Rick to say yes.” Eddie’s excitement has him vibrating when he cuts you off to tell you the news of the latest Foxy Lounge employee. “You’re gonna have such a crush on him. I’m calling it now.” The smirk on his face and the arch of his brow dare you to challenge him as he leans forward into your space.

Rolling your eyes with a snort, you start picking at the white sticker wrapped around the bottle.

“As if you know my type, Munson.” You can’t control the twitch of your lips the second the words leave your mouth when you finally dare to meet his amused gaze.

Eddie knew your type better than anyone else. Watching the men and sometimes women you’d bring upstairs weekend after weekend. He had you pegged and the Cheshire smile on his face told you he knew it too.

“I can hear it now.” He changes the pitch of his voice so it sounds like a bad version of yours before he continues with an exaggerated batting of his lashes, “Oh Eddie, Steve is just so dreamy. Do you think he thinks I’m cute? Will you talk to him? Come on Eddie!”

“I do NOT talk like that, asshole!” Launching a handful of bar nuts at him, he raises his hands in mock surrender shaking out the few that got stuck in his hair with a booming laugh.

“I don’t think that's a nice way to treat the guy who not only didn’t kick you out but also gave you a free beer before we opened, sweetheart.” His dimpled grin and perfect smile almost has your stomach in butterflies.

“I basically live here, besides your boss is the one who left the door unlocked. Maybe it’s a good thing you’re upping your security around here,” you tease, gulping down the rest of the beer before sliding the empty bottle over.

“We’ll see about this Steve guy you won’t shut up about, who knows Eddie, maybe it’s you who’s got a crush.”

Sweeping up the mess you made behind his bar he smirks before wiggling his brows.

“Everyone’s got a crush on Steve, baby.”

The pink fluorescent lights of the Foxy Lounge sign that hangs outside your window paints your studio in a blush tinted glow. It bleeds through the sheer floor length curtains, softening its harshness in a way that you liked. The darkness outside always makes it shine brightest around this time, a constant fight with your overhead lamp before bed. Your eyes catch the glaring red numbers on your clear digital clock reading 8:45pm.

Shit. You’re late.

No Doubt’s I’m Just A Girl plays loud enough through your boom box speakers to drown out the murmurs of the bar downstairs that spill through the slight crack in your bedroom window. You finish the last touch ups to the bubble gum colored gloss that coats your lips, smacking them together loudly. You give yourself a sweet smile in the mirror before fluttering your lashes for good measure. The finishing touch.

Finally feeling ready enough to leave, you adjust the black velvet choker around your neck with lavender painted nails. They highlight the lime green tube top that wraps around your chest as you pull at your black maxi skirt that sits above your hips hugging your curves just right.

You give yourself one last once over while you slip on your clunky Steve Madden slides, telling yourself the whole time you didn’t get all done up for the new bouncer. Instead you tell yourself it’s because you want to get lucky with the guy that invited you to get last minute drinks conveniently at the bar you above.

Turning around to give your studio apartment the safety check, you shuffle over your baby blue carpet with loud clacks from your sandals to hurriedly straighten your pink comforter and snuff out your incense. Grabbing your bag, you rush out with a flip of the light switch, only getting two steps away before having to pop back in to grab your keys hanging by the door.

The platforms on your slides are heavy as you make your way down the staircase, the narrow hallway bouncing your steps off the walls despite the cushion of the ugly brown carpet. One hand on the banister and the other dragging along the wall for balance, you pick up your pace barreling towards the door. Pushing it open with more force than normal, you hit something on the other side, hard.

An oof and the sound of plastic skidding across the sidewalk is followed by the crash of a stool that must’ve belonged to whoever was sitting on it. Stepping onto the pavement with a clack from your sandals, you stop in your tracks when you see his broad shoulders first. Bent over, you watch him collect what looks like an orange Tamagotchi, stuffing it quickly in his back pocket before brushing the dust off his dark denim clad thighs. The way he fills his jeans has your mouth dry up and his muscles flex under the black cotton shirt that wraps tight around his torso, the seams barely containing what’s underneath. Turning around he runs a big hand through his honey colored locks that stop just below his ears, pushing the fly aways from his face while the shine of the street lamp highlights his cheekbones and sharp jaw.

God you hated when Eddie was right.

Hazel eyes rake over your form while yours follow the freckles that run along his neck that lead to small moles placed like a cluster of stars along his jaw. His chiseled nose runs down a narrow line with lips tinged pink like his cheeks. The expression on his face going from irritated to flirty in a matter of seconds flat, the whites of his teeth showing when he gives you an easy smile.

“I’m - oh my god, I’m so sorry. I’m running late and no one is ever sitting there and I - Are you okay?” Talking a mile a minute, you hate that he has your nerves getting the best of you.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Raising his hands up to stop you, the press of your thighs is instant when you see the silver band wrapped around the thickness of his middle finger. “No apologies necessary, it was an accident, honey.”

The endearment leaves his mouth while his lips turn his smile crooked, and it makes you dizzy. Bending down to grab the stool off the ground, a matching chain slips out from under his shirt and the glow above gives you a glimpse at the patch of thick chest hair hidden from sight.

“Besides, it’s not the first time a pretty girl has knocked me on my ass.” Folding his arms across his pecs, he leans against the brick of the bar crossing his legs at the ankles. The black boots that cover his feet look big and menacing despite his disposition.

Biting your bottom lip into a smile, you look up at him through shy lashes and you swear you hear him sigh at the sight.

“Well as long as you’re okay-“

“Steve,” he offers his name with a flash of his teeth again, a spark lighting in his eyes when he sees the way you react to it.

“Well you’ll probably see my face around here a lot,” you say, doing your best to ignore the way your cheeks burn.

“I sure hope so.” Pulling a toothpick out of his back pocket, he slides it between his lips. Jaw clenching when he bites down on the wood while his eyes roam your curves again before offering you another grin.

It makes you do one thing a man has never made you genuinely do. You giggle. Tucking your hair behind your ear, you hardly recognize yourself anymore.

“I was gonna say, 'cause I live upstairs.” Your voice is sweet despite the roll of your eyes, his jaw clenches against the wood. He liked that.

He only breaks his stare to follow the path of your finger, his eyes lingering on your open window for a second before bringing all his attention back on you. The tension grows even thicker when he kicks off the wall, realization hitting him. The soles of his boots are loud against the pavement when he closes the distance between you with two long strides. Getting close enough to smell the cinnamon on his breath, and the expensive cologne that lingers on his bronzed skin, you forget all about your date waiting for you inside.

“Eddie’s told me all about you.” Using the tip of his tongue, he pushes the toothpick to the other side of his mouth, his smirk telling you all you need to know.

“That’s funny, Eddie’s told me about you too,” you lick your lips, tasting the fruit of your gloss as you look up at him from under hooded shimmering lids, “Steve.”

He inches just a little closer to teeter on the edge of what’s appropriate before responding, “Oh yeah? Did you like what you heard baby?”

His smile is as sinful as it is blinding. A darkened gaze locked on yours as he pulls the tooth pick out his mouth letting the sharp end snag his bottom lip before stuffing it in his back pocket again.

The electricity in the air sparks and fizzes, standing close enough to see the freckles that line his nose and the specks of glitter smattered in a similar pattern on your cheeks.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Raising an eyebrow, your response has him sucking his teeth before rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek accepting your answer with a nod of his head.

Pulling out a small red flashlight with a soft click of the button at the end, white light floods the dark. The beam roams over the expanse of your body with a purposeful path before stopping at his outstretched hand.

“I.D.?” Amusement evident in his voice, he wiggles his fingers at you keeping up with his charade. The motion daring to make a mess of your underwear.

You try to cover up your laugh with a fake scoff, making it come out loud enough for him to snort. Your lips twitch as you try to fight the losing battle with the smile threatening to break across your face.

“What? I need to be careful here sweetheart. It’s my first night, I gotta make sure you’re really who you say you are, and not just some pretty girl trying to flirt her way inside.” He keeps the perfect poker face while he tuts at you to hurry up for the invisible line behind you.

“Would it have worked?” you ask handing him your driver’s license, wincing internally at the picture he is about to see.

Brushing his fingers against yours when he takes it for closer examination, he huffs out a laugh before looking down at you with a smug grin.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He winks like an expert before making a big show of bringing your ID close to his face like it might be a fake.

Tsking to himself as he reads it over, he peeks over at you with a sly smirk. “A whole year older than me. Good for you, I like older women.”

Closing the space that developed when you had to dig in your purse, you snatch the plastic out of his hand, relishing in the way his breath hitches because of it. “I’m shocked you can read Steve, Eddie’s taste can be a bit…shoddy.”

“I think I’m pretty good at it actually, I’m good at reading a lot of things.” Ignoring your jab he’s quick to regain his confidence. “Things like, I don’t know, body language.” The spice of the cinnamon returns when he pulls out his toothpick again. He flashes you his pearly whites when he bites down, keeping his eyes locked on yours, a silent dare to prove him wrong.

Like magnets finding each other, the toes of his boots brush against your sandals. When did he get this close again?

Mariah Carey’s Fantasy cuts off any witty response that sits on the tip of your tongue as the bar door creaks open, rudely snapping you both back to reality. A boy who looks barely above the legal age is the culprit for popping your bubble, stopping dead in his tracks when the flirting bouncer’s attention redirects itself to where it should be. You already miss it.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up, punk.” Grabbing the kid by the collar of his shirt, he mutters a ‘shit’ under his breath.

You take a step back, your eyes meeting Eddie's from inside, the commotion catching his and a few other patrons' stares, including your date.

Oh yeah, you had a date.

“I’m gonna need to see some I.D.” Steve’s voice drops deeper after he clears his throat, if his tamagotchi didn’t beep right after, signaling it’s need to be fed it would’ve been more intimidating. Your own digital pet buried at the bottom of your bag probably doing the same, already reborn fresh this morning from forgetting it at home while at work the night before.

“Umm, you see, I left my wallet at home,” the kid starts to stammer, the metal of his braces showing when he gives the bouncer a nervous grin.

Almost forgetting he had an audience, Steve’s eyes meet yours, softening before that million dollar smile takes over his handsome face.

“You’re free to go in. You know where to come when you wanna talk about all those things you liked hearing about me.”

Your stomach flutters despite the roll of your eyes at his words and you're reminded crossing the threshold that you’re here to meet another man, already scolding yourself for not taking Eddie’s warning seriously.

“I bet you’d like that wouldn’t you, Steve?” You linger in the door frame, looking at him from over your shoulder, and it makes the corners of his eyes crinkle.

“You already know the answer to that, gorgeous.” His toothpick switches sides again before finally going back to doing his job, tugging the kid closer.

“I.D. or no entry dick head.”

Despite there being no line outside, the bar was pretty full. The low buzz of conversation before the drinks really start to hit filling the crowded space. Mariah finishes her last high note when your eyes connect with Eddie’s before meeting Devin’s. He’s dressed like Danny Tanner and it makes you cringe. Pushing up his wire frame glasses, he waves so eagerly the Salmon’s that cover his dress shirt look like they're swimming in the background rapids with the movements of his arm. He’s completely oblivious to Eddie mocking him behind his back, mouthing ‘DORK’ with a shit eating grin before finally attending to the girl with smeared makeup that had been desperately trying to get his attention from the other end of the bar.

You take a deep breath, readjusting the strap of your bag before you push your chin up making your way over. Determined to have a good time, you put on your best face, returning his wave with forced enthusiasm while Steve’s smile etches itself into your memory permanently.

Paula Abdul’s Vibeology starts pumping through the speakers around you, the sticky floor vibrating with the bass under your sandals as you sway your hips to the beat. He stands up when you approach his spot at the bar and you notice his button up is tucked into mustard colored corduroy slacks, and it makes you miss the tight fitting denim of the man outside even more. Shaking your head to try and get rid of all the thoughts swirling in your head about the guy you weren’t on a date with, you desperately try to match Devin’s excited energy when he opens his arms for a hug.

“I was starting to get worried you were standing me up.” He laughs nervously as you tuck yourself into his chest. Your eyes peek over his shoulder meeting Eddie’s again as he slides your favorite drink over (tequila and pineapple), and god you wish you hadn’t.

Wiggling his eyebrows, you flip him the bird behind Devin’s back watching the bartender pretend to catch it and put it in his pocket making your eyes hit the back of your skull.

“No, sorry, I just lost track of the time.” Not a total lie you leave out the fact that you forgot about him completely just a few minutes ago. Pulling away, you avoid his eyes, too scared they’ll give you away.

“All is forgiven, pretty lady.” He bows slightly, and you have to ignore the way Eddie snorts as he walks past with hands full of Miller Lite.

“You’re so sweet,” cringing at how fake your voice comes out but Devin doesn’t seem to notice as you both take your seats, knees barely touching between the space of the stools.

“Thanks for agreeing to drinks tonight, I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while now. Just didn’t know, w-with office etiquette a-and all,” stuttering, his nerves get the best of him. He tries to hide it behind a sip of his beer.

“No, I’m, I’m glad you did,”you lie, your eyes flicking to the door one more time before grabbing your drink. An awkward silence settles between the two of you as you press your lips to the rim to slurp at the top to prevent any spill over.

God, you already want this to be over.

The conversation does get easier after your first drink, the flirting a little less forced as your hand finds its way to squeeze his thigh when you laugh at something he says that’s only half funny. Choking on the foam from his beer from your sudden touch, he wipes his mouth bashful from his outburst. Eddie murmurs a “go easy on him tiger” when he gets you a refill, earning him your bratty tongue.

“So you transferred here last year from Portland, right Devin? What’s it like over there?” Resting your chin on your knuckles, you look up at him from under your lashes enjoying the way it makes his breath catch.

“It was- It was a lot different from here…”

Finally on your A game, you try not to pay attention when the front door opens behind your date. It’s to no avail when you catch his figure in your peripheral and you can’t fight it anymore. All the progress you’ve made going out the window when Steve makes his first reappearance since your arrival.

Toothpick replaced with what looked like Big Red chewing gum, his hazel eyes scan the crowd before landing on you. The smirk that you’d been trying to forget tugs at the corners of his lips, and any luck that Devin might have had with you tonight disappears like that.

The bouncer looks pointedly at the man beside you, sizing him up, smile stretching wider when he assesses his threat. Leaning against the wall, he crosses his arms across his chest so the sleeves of his shirt look like they are being pushed to their limits as the muscles in his biceps flex. Hips pushed out in a way that’s daring you to look below his waist, he throws you a wink with a snap of his gum.

“...So yeah, that’s the long and short , it,” Devin finishes with a proud smile and you just nod, not catching a single word he said.

Steve’s stare is relentless, and your body responds to it without you having to even meet his gaze. His tongue swipes across his bottom lip, jaw clenching with every hard chew of his gum. Pushing himself off the wall, he starts a slow walk towards you. Big heavy steps bring him closer, every thud of his boots making your thighs clench, as you try desperately to stay concentrated.

Your date’s in the middle of another story that sounds like white noise, your lack of attention making him a babbling mess. He doesn’t notice the way Steve stops next to him first, giving him a once over from up close to make sure he wasn’t missing something from afar before coming up to you with the kind of smile that’s dripping with trouble.

“....So the logistics of it are kinda crazy when you think-“

“Just checking on my pretty new friend over here,” Steve cuts Devin off, not interested in anything but you. His large hand finds the small of your back, his palm almost big enough to cover the exposed skin between your skirt and top. It sends a shiver up your spine that the pad of his thumb soothes when it rubs circles over your sprouting goosebumps. “Having a good night, baby?”

The pet name falls so smoothly off his tongue that it takes Devin a minute to realize that it even left Steve’s mouth, a scowl souring his face when he sees the way your eyes glaze over looking up at the bouncer.

“Yeah, I’m having a real nice time Steve.” Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, he notices the subtle way you lean into his touch. Your body needy for more.

“You better be.” He winks, letting the blunt ends of his nails scratch along your back before adding salt to Devin’s wound, “And you know where to find me if that changes.”

There’s a knowing smirk that plays on the edges of his mouth, biting his lip he finally tears his eyes away from you to give a head nod to the date you’d forgotten about for the second time tonight. Steve tosses him a wink too, a gesture that makes Devin’s jaw clench. Steve opens his mouth to say something that was sure to piss him off more, but he’s cut off by the sound of Eddie’s rings slamming hard on the bar behind you.

“Dude! What the fuck are you doing inside? Do you know how many people have walked in without getting checked? It's PEAK hours!” The bartender's eyes are frantic, fingers running through his curls as he yells at his friend. “Quit flirting and go do your job. Also, is that a fucking kid man?”

Eddie points to the boy that the bouncer stopped earlier who was snooping around abandoned tables in search for leftovers he was definitely not of legal age for, Steve’s cheeks tint the color of your lipgloss when he looks at you with sheepish eyes. The confidence he was dripping with disappears into embarrassment while doing his best to ignore the smug look on your date’s face.

“Calm down man, it was three minutes! I’ll get rid of the fuckin’ kid. Again.” He rubs the back of his neck as he walks away, stalking towards the boy who looks like he’s seen a ghost. “Hey asshole! You must’ve grown eight years in twenty minutes for me to be seeing you here!”

The boy raises his hands up in surrender slowly backing away, giving Steve an opportunity to turn around to toss you one last smile and wiggle his fingers at Devin before focusing on the high schooler who is already halfway out the door. The kid's walk turns into a run when Steve cracks his knuckles for show, following him out with long strides, disappearing back outside and out of sight.

You’re left with awkward silence between you and your date as Eddie stomps away muttering under his breath. Devin clears his throat, twirling his beer, the glass against the wood making a sound that starts to grate on your nerves. He’s daring you to look at him. The huff he exhales afterwards begs you to look. Your mind races with ideas of how to get out of this and when you dare to finally take a peek, he’s looking forward, emptying the last of his bottle.

“I’m gonna go smoke a cigarette!” You blurt out, grabbing your bag and leaving no time for a response. Your sandals clack as you power walk to the door. To Steve.

The summer night is sticky on your face when you step out of the bar, the sound of a girl’s sniffled “You’re right Steve” directing your stare to the bouncer you were looking for. Sitting on the very stool you knocked him off of, his big boots sit on the lowest footrest with his knees spread wide. Inviting. His eyes connect with yours, widening a bit when you smirk at him while getting yourself comfortable on the brick wall on the opposite side of the door. Digging your cigarettes out of your purse, you notice the girl next to him has mascara running down her cheeks that she only makes worse when she wipes them with the back of her hand.

“You know Maryanne, it sounds like this isn’t the first time he’s done this to you. I think it’s time to kick him to the curb. You deserve better.” He speaks to her like they’ve been friends their whole lives and you have no idea how he’s learned so much about her in the few minutes he’s been outside. Crossing his arms as he leans back enough for the legs of the stool to pull up, he catches himself with his shoulders against the wall behind him.

“He sounds like a chump if you ask me,”you chime in, lighting your cigarette. Steve’s smile shines under the pink luminescent sign above him when he hears your voice. The wooden legs of his stool smacking loud against the cement when he pushes off the wall.

She’s startled by your sudden appearance, not noticing when you came out - too lost in her own world. She gives you a weak smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes before she nods, tugging at her high pony and somehow making it higher. The sequined scrunchy in her hair catches the street light as she tries hyping herself up to return to whoever was making her cry inside.

“He is a chump, but most men are.” She sighs, her shoulders relaxing a little more as she calms down.

“You’ve got this honey, tell him to fuck off and go home with Lisa if that’s what he wants so bad,” Steve champions, patting her on the back, a new layer to Maryanne’s story being revealed. His eyes flick back to you as you take a drag, the mossy green going dark when he watches your cheeks hollow.

“Thanks for listening Steve, I’m gonna go back in now.” She wipes her nose one more time, before giving you a polite head nod.

“Have Eddie make you something sweet, and tell him it’s on me.” The bouncer winks, giving her the boost of confidence she needs before opening the door you just came out of. Monifah’s Touch It adds to the tension between Steve and you when it leaks out of the bar as she disappears inside. The bass thumps against the brick, leaving the song just muffled enough to be background noise when it closes behind her.

The air is heavier, thicker with something you both know is there. Playing hard to get, you don’t meet his gaze, despite feeling it over every curve and dip of your body. Inhaling another hit of nicotine, you lift your head up to exhale the smoke into the dark sky, extending your neck for him to see before you finally give in and chance a glance in his direction.

He looks far too handsome, smiling wide when you meet his eyes, all his perfectly white teeth baring themselves at you in a way that makes your legs shake.

“Missed me already baby?” His feet hit the sidewalk, his man spread somehow bigger this way as he scoots closer to the edge of the stool.

“You’re not very good at your job, are you?” You grin, successfully dodging the answer he already knows as your head hits the side of the building. Tilting your chin in his direction with your lip tucked between your teeth, you catch his narrowed glare.

“Nice try sweetheart, I used to watch Road House, religiously. I learned from the best. I’m just distracted,” the buttery smoothness of his voice returns, the last of his sentence coming out in a purr.

“Distracted?” You quirk a brow, not giving into him just yet.

“Yes, very much so and I regret to inform you that it’s all your fault too.” He sticks his bottom lip out at you in a pout, earning the giggle he’d been trying to get again since he first heard it, even if it's accompanied by your pretty eyes rolling in the back of your head.

“I’m on a date, Steve.” Even though you know it’s a weak comeback at this point, you still give it and he doesn’t miss a beat.

“Where? I don’t see him.”

Your cheeks heat up at his observation so you take another drag of your half smoked cigarette to try and hide the way he’s affecting you.

“I’m supposed to be quittin’, but you’re makin’ it look too good, pretty girl. Let me have a puff?” His question is an invitation, making the first move to call your bluff, to get you closer.

“Is that why you seem to have a cinnamon addiction?” you tease, not surprised when you kick off the wall accepting it with a smirk and an exaggerated sway of your hips.

He licks his lips while his eyes roam the length of your body unashamed, one large hand raking through his hair when you stop close enough to smell the topic of discussion on his breath.

“Could be addicted to worse,” he murmurs, not sure where to look having you between his legs like this.

“It’s a Newport, S‘that okay, Steve?” you ask him from underneath flirting lashes. His breath hitching before a sly smirk spreads across his pink lips.

“More than okay baby.” He leans closer, fingers wrapping around the plush curve of your hip to anchor you in place.

Tipping up on your toes, your hand comes down on his thigh making the muscle flex against your palm, your touch sending shocks through the rough denim while the other holds the gloss stained end up to his mouth.

Steve holds your stare when his lips wrap around where yours just were. His nails dig half crescent moons into your exposed skin as his cheeks hollow out. You can feel your heartbeat between your legs, your brows meeting in the middle when he tugs you even closer before tilting his head up. The thick expanse of his neck on full display as he blows out his drag, adam's apple bobbing in the light making the moles dance across his skin.

“The strawberry really sets it off.” He grins as his hand dares to slide down the top curve of your ass, making it his new home when you make no moves to get away from him.

“Thanks, it’s my favorite gloss.” You shrug, pretending to unphased by his teasing, but the mess in your panties would give you away if he could see.

“Maybe I could get a better taste,” his words are bold, but his free hand is bolder. Soft fingertips play with the top hem of your skirt, daring to dip under the fabric every once and awhile and he swears he hears you whimper.

“You want more?” Your voice comes out small, dripping in honey just for him. You know what he really wants, but he’s not gonna get it yet.

“God, if you’ll let me honey.” There’s a light squeeze on the dough of your ass, and it makes you flutter around nothing.

You lean in slowly, your hand moving further up his thigh watching the way his chest starts to rise and fall from it. Stretching the cotton of his shirt with every breath. The fingers that had been exploring the top of your skirt start a path up to the bottom of your top. A low hum coming from under his breath when the sweetness of your body lotion hits his nose.

His eyes shut when your faces get close enough that he feels like he can taste the strawberry that he wants so bad. He doesn’t notice when you pull back at the last second to replace your kiss with another puff until your cigarette shoves past his puckered lips.

When he opens them, he’s met with your giggles, a sound he wants on a loop. He pretends to glare, still taking the hit you were offering him, exhaling it through his nose like an angry bull. He opens his mouth to chastise you but the beeping of his digital pet interrupts his intimidating moment again.

“Gotta get that?” Your lips twitch while you try to contain your laugh, flicking the cigarette onto the street.

“Listen, my best friend got it for me. I thought it was incredibly stupid, and I definitely told her it was too.” The hand on your waist leaves to dig his Tamagotchi out of his front pocket. “But now I’m attached to the little guy.”

The key chain sized toy lights up in his hand, as he starts to feed it with a press of a button.

“Mine died yesterday,” you admit and the laugh you’d been fighting off echoes loudly when he looks up at you horrified.

“What? Do you have it with you now?”he questions as the small happy tune plays signaling that his pet is fully satisfied.

“She’s somewhere in my bag, don’t worry she was reborn this morning,” your words don’t reassure him considering they seem to need food every thirty minutes and you haven’t pulled it out once since he’s met you.

“Sounds like you want her to die again to me.” Steve’s very real concern about your Tamagotchi has you smirking.

“They die so easily, you’re telling me yours hasn’t died?”

Your jaw drops when he shakes his head ‘no’, a smugness taking over his handsome features.

“Steve, that’s like really hard to do.” You don’t know whether you should be impressed or roast him but when his hand grips at your ass one more time you decide it’s the first.

“Better give her to me for the night baby, I’ll keep her nice and healthy for my favorite girl.” Stuffing his back into his pocket, he holds his palm open for you in a vow to keep your digital pet alive and an excuse to see you later.

Rolling your eyes playfully, you obey his wishes. Digging to the bottom of your bag till you find your purple one. The screen already going off, and the muffled beeping that signaled the need for it to be fed finally becomes loud enough to hear.

“See! I told you. On the cusp of death already.”

You drop it in his hand, right as an older trucker comes barreling out of the bar reminding you where you’re at and that Devin is still waiting inside. Again.

“Fuck, I should go back in.” You sigh as your fingers play with the seam on the leg of his jeans.

“Go back in and tell that guy to get lost,” the bouncer almost whines, his grip on your hip tightening before he lets you go.

“Steve,” you huff but the smile on your face gives him hope.

“Just saying sweetheart, could be fun.” He shrugs, putting on an air of nonchalance while your Tamagotchi dangles from his thumb.

You both know who you really want to go home with tonight.

The bubble you and Steve are in pops as soon as you get back inside The sound of the distant cars on the freeway and Steve’s voice is replaced with Return of the Mack and the crowd that was at a simmer when you first got here is now at a full boil.

You have to get rid of Devin.

He’s right where you left him, hunched over and twirling his beer bottle on top of the bar. You notice the three empty shot glasses before you see Eddie dropping off another one while giving you the kind of eyes that say ‘Come take care of your date’ as he walks away. Taking a deep breath, you make your way towards him going over all the ways you can let him down easy while your nerves drown out the little bit of guilt you had for ditching him.

“Heeeey,” your voice is high pitched, awkwardness dripping from its tone when you finally return to your stool next to him.

Crickets.

You freeze - he’s ignoring you. How can you get rid of him if he’s ignoring you? Your eyes shift around the bar nervously, offering an awkward tight lipped smile when anyone meets your stare. You search for Eddie again, hoping to silently ask for help but his back is to you, clearly putting the moves on a girl at the other end.

“Devin.”

You hope that saying his name will elicit the desired response but that dwindles quickly when he chugs the rest of his beer, continuing his charade and keeping his gaze forward before slamming the empty bottle down.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” he grumbles, irritation laced in every word before he pushes off the stool still not meeting your eyes.

You wait till he’s out of earshot before you let out a groan, your long disappearance clearly pissed him off. Propping yourself up by your elbows on the sticky bar, you close your eyes, rubbing your temples while you try to think of the right way to go about this. Eddie’s knowing chuckle is the last thing you want to hear but that’s just how the night is going now.

“You pretty little scoundrel!” He slaps the spot in front of you forcing your eyes open, his smile only widening when you glare at him.

“He’s so pissed and now thanks to you,” gesturing towards the empty shot glasses Eddie gets rid of with quick hands, you avoid the real reason, “He’s gonna be trashed!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa sweetheart. I’m not the one who can’t keep their hands off Stevie boy. And on a date too? Tsk tsk tsk.” He crosses his arms with a shake of his head, “Now you broke poor Derek’s -“

“Devin.”

“Whatever - fish guy’s heart. Aren’t you in a little predicament hmm?” Eddie hums the last part, but you can see the excited glint in his eyes. He loves watching your escapades.

“Listen,” you can’t help the giggle that bubbles past your strawberry lips under his knowing gaze, “When you told me he was hot Eddie, you didn’t tell me he was that hot.”

Smirking, you enjoy watching the way his face contorts knowing that was a damn lie.

“Are you kidding?” He throws his hands in the air, giving you the reaction you were baiting him for, “It was the first thing I told you.”

You laugh loudly at his exasperation with your antics, almost forgetting about Devin entirely for the third time tonight.

“Have fun figuring out this little love triangle you’ve created, I need to get to the rest of the paying customers so I can get back to that hottie at the end of the bar.” He points to the girl he was talking to earlier who’s sipping a drink she looks surprised to even like.

“I bet you aren’t charging her for anything are you?” You narrow your eyes playfully, cackling when he rolls his waving you off as he walks away.

Sliding off the stool, you tug up your tube top, ready to give it to Devin straight, more than eager to get back outside again.

“I knew the guys in the office said you were easy, but I didn’t think you’d be spreading your legs for anything that walked on our date.” Devin’s voice comes as a surprise, but the tight grip on your arm pulling you to him is an even bigger one.

Searing rage fills every part of your body at the fact that he put his hands on you, palms flat on his chest, you use all your strength to shove him away. Shock paints his features, not expecting you to fight back so aggressively. All the drinks he’s had make him stumble back, losing his footing almost falling into the couple next to him.

“Well I’m sure as shit not spreading them for you!” you spit, looking him up and down with disgust before putting a finger in his face, “And your shirt? It’s fucking ugly.”

You give him one last once over before shaking your head and walking away. Heading back towards the entrance, you notice Steve inside again. A hard glare is set on his face, nostrils flaring as he zeros in on Devin behind you who’s still trying to regain his balance.

God, it’s the hottest he’s looked all night.

Steve’s hazel eyes meet yours and they instantly soften when you can’t help but smile as he opens the door for you.

“Thanks Stevie,” using Eddie’s nickname, you run your hands across his chest when you walk by, just to add salt to Devin’s wound.

The flush that paints his cheeks tells you how much he likes it.

“When I told you to ditch your date, I didn’t mean to fist fight him, honey,” he teases, following you outside, letting the chipped red door shut behind you and muffling the sounds of the bar again.

“He got mad about my little disappearance before I could let him down easy.” Turning around, you bite your bottom lip to try to hide your growing smile.

“Poor guy.” Steve grins before taking the two steps to close the gap, to crowd your space. Cinnamon fanning across your face, “Never stood a chance.”

It’s harder for you to breathe when he looks at you like he wants to kiss you, but before you can respond, the door flies open.A drunk Devin stumbling out with a glare breaking you two apart.

“Of course, of FUCKING course. Not even two seconds later? You really are a slut, huh?” Devin seethes, stumbling out onto the sidewalk.

“I’m really going to need you to watch your mouth champ. No need to call girls names. You’re a big boy.” Steve’s tone is condescending as he squares up, making sure you’re behind him.

“You think you’re so fucking cool,” Devin scoffs before hiccuping, “Careful with this one, she’s probably sucked your buddy’s dick inside too.”

“Yeah, that’s enough, asshole. Go home, before I have to beat some respect into that ugly skull of yours.” Steve cracks his knuckles again, but it doesn’t have the same effect as before, Devin only raising his eyebrows at the bouncer.

“Respect? That’s funny. The whore behind you hasn’t heard of it.”

Steve loses his cool and like a flash he’s on him. Pulling his fist back Steve moves just a little too slow and Devin clocks him right in the jaw. The sound of bone against bone echoes loudly into the night. Stumbling back, Steve cradles where an ugly bruise will start forming in the morning, rubbing it out. He cracks his neck before barreling towards Devin, taking him down to the ground like a football player.

In a flurry of fists and cuss words, Devin somehow gets Steve pinned. The alcohol and anger flowing through his system turns him into The Hulk. Your screams for them to stop fall on deaf ears while they continue to roll around on the ground. Panic sets in when you realize neither man is going to stop. Doing the only thing you know how to do in these situations, you get Eddie.

Frantic, you open the door, ignoring the fact that Third Eye Blind is playing at the exact worst time, you scream Eddie’s name loud enough to silence the bar.

“Eddie! It’s bad. Steve needs you!”

He looks up from a clearly flirtatious conversation with the girl from before, both of their eyes landing on you as you get your friends attention. He grumbles, grabbing her hands saying something to her that makes her nod bashfully before jumping over the bar top. Jogging out the front, he towers easily over the two men, neither one of you bothering to check the red heads I.D. that walks in after you.

“The first fucking night man!” Eddie yells at Steve, grabbing Devin by the back of his shirt pulling him off the bouncer with ease, but not before Steve gets one more cheap shot in.

He wrestles against Eddie’s grip for a second before finally giving up with a hiccup, hocking a loogie in Steve’s direction.

“You done?” The bartender's face is unamused, as he waits for Devin to nod. “I never wanna see you or your shitty ass style at my bar again. Beat it bozo before I give you a matching black eye to go with the one Steve gave you.”

Two against one is too much for Devin to take on, so he raises his hands up in surrender when Eddie lets him go. Rolling his tongue against his cheek he shoots you one last glare before turning on his heel. Flipping everyone off as he starts down the sidewalk. Steve returns the gesture, spitting at his retreating form.

“You good?” Eddie asks, extending his hand for his friend to take.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Just hate that guy.” Steve mumbles, looking everywhere but at you while he straightens his shirt and dusts off his jeans with bloody knuckles.

“Your hand dude, I can’t have you bleeding all over people I.D’s. and I know Rick doesn’t have a first aid kit. At least I’ve never seen one.” Eddie rubs the back of his neck, stress coming in the form of knitted brows.

“I’ve got one,” you mumble, finally finding your voice and the bartender claps, wiping his hands clean of the situation.

“There, go play nurse with lover boy and get out of my hair tonight. I’m like this close,” he pinches two fingers together to show “to scoring and you both have been fucking it up every chance you can get. I swear to god.”

Eddie waves you off as he makes his way back in, and you can feel the shift in energy between you and the bouncer you’ve been wanting all night.

Steve’s quiet the whole walk up the stairs to your apartment, fuming with anger and embarrassment, the confidence from before gone while the bruise on his jaw deepens and he cradles his bleeding knuckles.

“This is me,” you break the silence cringing, your voice amplified in the walls of the narrow hallway while you dig out your key.

“Thanks for this, angel,” his words come out in just above a whisper but at least it’s something.

The endearment has a smile creeping across your face and you finally dare to turn around to get a look at him after you hear the click of your lock. You press your back against your open door, it’s your turn to extend an invitation.

“Anytime Stevie.”

His face softens the minute he lays his eyes on you again, jealous of the way you bite your bottom lip sweetly, he wishes it was him.

You let Steve into your world one heavy boot at a time, locking the door behind you. Watching the way his dimmed eyes brighten, curiosity winning over any leftover irritation. The ghost of a smirk twitches at the corners of his lips while he walks the small space of your studio taking everything in. The neon sign outside your window is the only light that illuminates it, shadows dancing off trinkets on shelves and pictures on walls, he was getting a glimpse of you.

He stops in the middle of your room, right at the edge of your bed. The dark denim and leather that cover him are a stark contrast against your baby blue rug, but you think he looks like he belongs here. You watch the way he takes in your hastily made bed, licking his lips when he sees a pair of panties that didn’t quite make it in the laundry basket in the corner. The radio you’d forgotten to turn off plays a commercial, filling the space between you, and you aren’t prepared for when he puts his full attention back on you again after not having it for the past twenty minutes. Your body responds immediately to the playful glint in his eye.

“Cute place, for a cute girl.” He grins, running his good hand through his hair before he walks over to the window to take a look at your view.

“I bet you say that to all of em’,” you tease because it’s easier to do with his back to you. Making your way to the bathroom, nerves burst like butterflies in your stomach.

“You’re the only one baby.”

His response is quick as he turns around, the flirting you’d grown accustomed to coming back like a raging storm. He watches your hips while you walk the short distance with a heavy stare that covers every part of you. Leaning against the door frame with your curves on full display, something shifts behind his eyes. Flipping the lightswitch, white beams break apart the pink, highlighting even more of you for him to drink in.

“Come on handsome, let’s get you patched up.”

His cheeks flush at the new nickname and it's his turn to bite his lip in a shy smile for you.

It doesn’t take more than a few steps for his long legs, the wood creaking under his weight. Pressing your back to the frame, he stops in front of you with one foot over the threshold and the other still in your room. He takes up so much space. His biceps flex when he reaches for your hip, tugging you even closer, you can smell the menthol still lingering on his breath. On instinct your palm hits his chest, muscles dancing under heated skin as you tilt your chin up to meet his eyes. Squeezing at your softness before he speaks, he lets his middle finger dip under the top of your skirt.

“I really meant it when I said thank you back there. Just need you to know that.” His finger dares to dip lower, rubbing circles that make your back arch, hips pushing forward on a search for his. The curve of your stomach touches the cool metal of his belt buckle and the heat of his body sets fire between your thighs.

“I know you did,” your voice is sweet for him, the tone you know he likes while your hand moves down the dip between his pecs, “Thank you for sticking up for me.”

You can feel the coarse hair that starts at the top of his belly button where your hand stops, and you swear you feel him twitch in his pants. A second one of his fingers finds its way under your skirt and another subtle tug gets you even closer. So close that all you’d have to do is stand on your tiptoes for your lips to touch.

“Anything for you, pretty girl,” he breathes, spice and tobacco taking over. His adam’s apple bobs when he catches the way you start staring at his lips, the gloss on your own shimmering in the new light.

“Anything?” Quirking your brow with a smirk, your innuendo makes him moan and his hold on you tighten.

“Absolutely.” Ducking his head lower so his nose brushes against the bridge of yours, he dares you to make the first move.

“In that case…” Pressing your toes down to push yourself up, the playful glint in your eye goes unnoticed by him.

Your lips are a ghost, his top one barely brushing against your bottom, it's enough for him to taste the strawberry he wanted more of outside but not enough to satisfy. His eyes flutter closed waiting to feel their full plushness but your words bring him back to reality.

“Sit on the toilet for me.”

The specks of emerald shine again when his eyes snap open to see you flat on your feet with a grin. Groaning loudly with fake irritation, he lets go of you in exasperated defeat, letting his head fall back and hit the wood of the frame.

“What? We came up here for my first aid kit, didn't we?” You giggle after you say it, you don’t mean it.

“Sure, sure, yeah, yeah.” Nodding, he runs a hand through his hair while he looks around your bathroom.

It smells like your coconut body wash and it drives him crazy. He takes an unexpected step forward, his hand finding its way back to your hip to push you against the wall. One heavy boot between your wedged sandals, getting just close enough to kiss you. Is he going to?

It's your eyes that flutter closed this time, your fingers wrapping themselves around his belt loops again. He’s tentative with his injured hand when he uses it to cradle your jaw. His palm is soft as it covers half your neck, his thumb pushing up against your chin to tilt your face up to his. He runs the tip of his nose along your cheek and you feel your knees start to get weak, a whimper begging to fall from your parted lips.

“If that’s the only thing we’re here to do then we should get to it then, huh?”

Just as quick as he invades your space, he leaves it. The porcelain of your toilet seat cover clunks loudly when he drops himself on it. Spread out like on the stool outside, he takes over the room, leaving you to catch your breath with a smug grin.

It’s a staring contest with narrowed eyes after that, but the twitch of your lips tells him you aren’t actually mad. He snorts when you clear your throat to regain your composure, purposely ignoring the obvious when you bend over to open the cabinet under the sink, pulling out the bright red zip up bag.

“We need to wash your knuckles first, then I’ll put some ointment on them and wrap it up for you. We’ll keep it that way for the night and we can check on it in the morning.” The words leave your mouth before you can stop them and he catches the slip up instantly.

“Oh? You need to keep me overnight for observations?”

You bite your lip to try and hide your smile, grabbing a washcloth running it under hot water instead of looking at him.

“You know what I meant, I’ll come check on it tomorrow when you get to work.” You don’t even believe your lie, and the toothy smile you catch from the corner of your eye tells you he doesn’t either.

“But nurse, I don’t know. I think I should stay, I got hit in the face too. Concussions you know? I really shouldn’t be alone tonight.” He lays it on thick, eating up the way he sees you loving it spreading across your face when you ring out the soapy rag.

You don’t try to hide it when you finally face him, or when you settle between his legs for the second time tonight. The new position has him eye level with your chest, easier access to his lips. You hold your palm out for him, your hand disappearing completely when he drapes his wounded one over it.

“Concussion, huh? Are you feeling light headed Steve?” You play along giving your best impression of a medical professional.

He hisses when you press the damp cloth to his knuckles, sucking in air between his teeth when you start to clean. The soothing circles the pad of your thumb rubs on the side of his hand is almost enough to distract him from it.

“Yeah, but that started before I got hit.”

You finally dare to meet his gaze, a flattered smile spreading wide across your face that you try to play down with a roll of your eyes.

“Hmmm,” you hum to yourself, deciding not to give in just yet as you switch from the rag to the ointment, getting the bandaging and medical tape out.

“I mean, you’re the professional honey. You tell me.” You feel his good hand tug at the bottom of your skirt while you smear the neosporin on his knuckles with a q-tip, his long fingers flexing at the cooling effect.

“It started before you got hit?” You question with a fake pensive expression, gently taking his palm in your hand to start the wrapping process.

“Yeah, you see, this girl hit me with a door earlier. Knocked me clean off my stool.” He makes the motion of him falling with a swipe of his hand, “ and I haven’t been the same since if I’m being completely honest.”

It takes everything inside you to not give him the satisfaction of a laugh, the way you met coming back to the forefront of your mind.

“Some would argue putting your stool in front of the door like that is kinda stupid, but that's just my professional opinion.” Your shrug earns a loud laugh from him and you relish in it, promising yourself you’ll get him to do it again.

“All done.” You let go of his hand and he already misses you holding it, but the proud look on your face is a good distraction while you admire your handy work.

He holds it up, and you still can’t get over just how big they are. Curling his fingers in before extending them, he only winces slightly from the pain. The pressure of the bandage already helping. He jumps slightly when the backs of your fingers smooth over the fresh bruise forming on his jaw, the stubble tickling your skin. His eyes watch yours as they rake over the damage, the softness of your touch almost enough to make his eyelids heavy when you stroke the sore spot again.

“What do you think, huh?” His question comes out quiet, the playful edge gone while both his hands find the back of your legs. Rough fingertips run up your calves, catching the bottom of your skirt as they go, “Are you gonna keep me baby?”

A shiver runs up your spine when he hits the back of your thighs and you feel yourself getting pulled closer. He drags his nose up the bare skin of your sternum while his hands grab doughy handfuls just below the curve of your ass. The sound of your moan when his fingers get high enough to just barely graze the soaked material between your weakening legs sends him into overdrive. Growling, he nips at the tops of one of your breasts.

“Come on, tell me, what’s it gonna be?” Despite trying to sound confident, there’s a desperation in the way he asks. He knows you want it but he needs you to say it.

It’s when his fingers slip under the lace trim of your panties that you finally give in with a gentle grab of his chin. His eyes are black when they meet yours, the ends of his nails digging into soft skin.

“Yeah, I’m gonna keep you.” You give into an urge you’ve had since you laid eyes on him, tangling your fingers in his hair as you spread yourself open for his hands to wander.

He doesn’t hold back anymore and you’re reminded of just how tall he actually is when he stands up. His actions are quick and with purpose, the strength you knew was behind those muscles showing itself when he lifts you onto the edge of the sink with your skirt rucked up to your hips. He man handles you in a way no one ever has and you feel it light a fire in your gut. Impatient for his next move, you grab the collar of his shirt while his hands spread wide over the tops of your thighs, your lips finally getting to do what they’ve wanted all night.

It’s soft at first, both of you moving slow as you figure out what the other likes, careful not to hurt his jaw. One of his hands finds its way back to your cheek, the pad of his thumb rubbing the length of the bone while his tongue begs you to open up. He traces the top of your lip, shuddering at the taste of the strawberry and it makes him wonder if your skin tastes like the coconut he smells.

You give him the access he wants, your tongues meeting in the middle, making the fire that had been begging to consume you pour out from your fingertips that bury themselves into the roots at the nape of his neck. You need more. The hard length that has been fighting against the denim of his jeans presses hard into where you want his attention, your legs wrap around him - silently begging him to do it again.

One arm snakes around your lower back, holding you flush against his chest, the grind of his hips giving you the friction that makes you keen. A moan and a breathless “fuck” is what breaks your lips apart when his zipper catches your swollen clit with just the right amount of pressure. He uses his new found freedom to kiss down the length of your jaw, humming against your heated skin when you tilt your head to give him better access to all the sensitive places he can’t wait to discover. He sucks the soft spot behind your ear when you meet the next roll of his hips, your slides falling loudly off your feet to the tile floor.

“Steve,” his name comes out in a high pitch whine when he starts sucking a bruise in a place you know you’ll have to try and cover up for the next few days. He was marking you, and you could care less. You hold him there, encouraging more as his teeth graze your pulse point, a “baby” slipping past his lips when he finally pulls away.

He meets your eyes with flushed cheeks and messy hair and the kind of hunger that makes you melt.

“Let me take you to bed, let me take care of you,” he’s panting, his hold on you tightening so you can feel just how bad he needs this. A smirk spreads across his swollen lips when your hips shift in search for more, giving him the answer he needs along with the nod of your head.

Just as easy as he lifted you on the sink, he carries you to the bed, big hands cradling thick thighs before he lays you on your back. Your giggle fills the space in between heavy pants before TLC’s Creep starts playing over the speakers of the radio. His hands find their way to the bottom of his shirt, pulling it over his head and you watch an expanse of new freckles and moles get revealed to you. You want to kiss them all. They dot the spots next to the dark hair over his belly button while the thick thatch of chest hair you’d only gotten a glimpse of glistens with beads of sweat in the glow of the Foxy Lounge light.

His jeans hang low enough for you to get a glimpse of the veins protruding from the V shape that leads to the part of him that’s sure to make you forget your own name. His grin is cocky when he recognizes the expression on your face. Grabbing your ankle, he pulls you closer to the edge of the bed. The bottom of your foot resting on the soft hair of his chest while long fingers hold you in place. He keeps his eyes trained on yours while he starts to trail wet kisses down the inside of your leg. The stubble covering his jaw scratching along his path in the best way. He stops when he gets to the soft skin of your knee, nipping playfully, he smirks at the squeal it earns him before he drops your leg in favor of curling his fingers under the top of your skirt.

You lift your hips for him without him having to ask, and the flash of his teeth is almost enough to blind you. He’s slick with his movements, taking your panties too. You hear his breath catch in his throat when he sees the effects all his teasing has on you. His fingers grip at your thighs before pulling your sticky skin apart with a lick of his lips.

“Look at you baby, all this for me?” The last part of his question comes out in a groan when he swipes the pad of his thumb against your bundle of nerves, kicking up in his jeans when your legs shake in response. “So sensitive too. Let me make her feel good, yeah?”

He swipes his thumb against your clit again making your eyes shut tight and your hips buck.

“I need to hear you say it.” He keeps rubbing circles, applying just enough pressure for you to forget how to speak, “Come on, be a good girl for me.”

His other hand pulls down your tube top, breasts spilling out in the blush light for his eyes to devour. He groans at the sight, his other hand coming up to cup the soft flesh feeling the way your nipples pebble against the warmth of his palm.

“Steeeeve, please.”

You’re whining for him and it makes his brows pinch together, feeling drunk off you.

“God angel, you’re fuckin’ beautiful you know that?” He emphasizes his question with his hands, giving your sides a squeeze while his eyes roam every dip and curve of your body. “Turn around for me? I wanna see all of you.”

The look on his face makes you decide that you’ll never deny him anything he asks, giving him a nod, you run your hands up his arms, nails dragging across the light hair before you push yourself up to get on all fours.

You feel completely exposed to him like this, all the secret places of your body on full display. He’s quiet for a minute and it’s almost enough for your nerves to get the best of you until you feel his palm find the apple of your ass. Fingers digging into doughy flesh, a groan loud enough to drown out the music erupts deep from his chest.

“Baby, baby, babyyy,” he emphasizes the last endearment with another handful before pulling your cheeks apart to get a better look at your dripping cunt, “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever fuckin’ seen.”

Your hips wiggle at his words, your walls fluttering around nothing while the cool air from the overhead fan hits your heat, sending goosebumps dancing across your supple flesh. A dark chuckle leaves him when he sees how much power his words have over you. His knees hit the side of the mattress, one hand hooking around your hip while the other runs down the dip of your spine giving you a light push when he hits your shoulder blades until you're bent over for him.

“She likes when I talk to her, huh?” his voice is low, mesmerized when you start dripping on the bed for him and he’s barely touched you, “She likes when I call her pretty doesn’t she?”

The moan that leaves your mouth is pathetic and he wishes he could record it.

“Playing hard to get all night, but look at you.” His good hand comes down hard enough on your ass for the fat to jiggle and you to fist handfuls of your comforter because of it, “Making such a filthy mess and I haven’t even put my mouth on you yet.”

His grip is rough when he tugs your hips, the outline of his dick pressing into you, the denim scratching against your clit in a way that has your eyes rolling in the back of your head.

“Tell me how much you want my mouth baby, tell me how much you want me to make you cum.” He grinds against you again, only this time making sure to apply the kind of pressure that makes your back arch.

“Fuck - Steve, please I want it. I’ve wanted it all night. I’ve wanted it all night,” you're babbling as he circles his hips, fingers kneading your soft skin.

Satisfied with your answer he mumbles a “so good for me” as he pulls away he gives you another light slap to your ass - signaling for you to scoot up, your mattress dipping behind you when he gets on his knees.

Big hands spread you apart, your forehead hits the comforter when you feel the heat of his breath against your slick folds. Your walls flutter, begging for his attention when his tongue runs a long stripe up your slit. He hums at the taste before he does it again, this time making sure to circle your clit before lapping up everything you were drenching him with like he was thirsty for it.

“Oh my god,” you huff into your blankets, toes curling when he starts an assault against your bundle of nerves, the pointed tip of his nose pressing deeper into your entrance as he gets lost in the sounds he’s pulling from you.

His fingers stretch across the tiger stripes on your butt cheeks, pulling you even further apart to give him better access. The coil inside you already threatening to snap when he sucks hard on your clit. He lets it go with a loud pop, smirking to himself at the way he has your body shaking from overstimulation already.

“Taste so fuckin’ good. Strawberries, just like your lips.” He groans, inhaling your scent like a man starved, his good hand coming down on your cheek again only this time a little harder pulling out another broken moan from you.

“Can I taste all of you pretty girl?”

There’s zero hesitation when you say ‘yes’, in fact it’s a little desperate. He could have whatever he wanted from you now. Not even sure what he means, your brain’s too fuzzy with lust to comprehend anything until you feel the tip of his tongue circle a place you’d never let anyone else go before.

“Holy shit - Steve.” The new sensation sends another wave arousal to your dripping core, a needy whine following it when he does it again.

“This okay?” He kisses the curve underneath the apple of your cheek, the softness of his voice comforting you while he checks in.

“God, it’s, it’s -“ He gives you another kitten lick and it makes your eyes roll in the back of your head, “It’s more than okay - Jesus Christ.”

Too lost in the feeling of him testing the tightness of you with his tongue, you aren’t expecting his thick finger to start circling the entrance he’d been neglecting, the one you need him to fill the most. Your silk walls welcome the intrusion with ease, the stretch only stinging a little when he pushes to the last knuckle while his tongue starts getting a little more bold. Your back arches when he groans against you, curling his finger to hit the spot only you’d ever been able to find with ease. He adds a second digit when you start bucking against his face, the new addition almost makes you run away. He tsks at you from buried between your butt cheeks, one large hand locking you in place when he starts feeling you get close.

“Give it to me,” he demands, coming up for air. Fingertips relentless against the spot that has you squelching loudly.

His mouth returns to the sensitive part of you, tongue circling your tightness in a way that has you finally snapping. Your walls constrict, wrapping around his fingers while your vision goes white. Your body freezes, the orgasm overwhelming your muscles with a violent shake, his name falling from your lips like it’s the only word you know. You feel him grin against you, the movements of his fingers only slowing down but never stopping, milking every last drop you give him.

“So good, so pretty when you cum baby,” he mumbles praises, his lips kissing anywhere they can reach while your body comes down from its first high.

You feel his weight leave the mattress, hear the metal of his belt buckle clinking followed by the low thump of his jeans hitting the floor. You find enough strength to look over your shoulder and it’s enough to make you whimper. Steve’s big. Dark hair at the base, it’s thick and curved, the pretty pink tip leaking just for you. The long vein that runs up the side pulses when he gives it a couple of tugs before his knees hit the mattress again.

His hands spread over your hips pulling you closer before he starts trailing kisses up your back, the silver of his chain making you shiver as it runs up your spine till his lips stop right at your ear.

“You ready for me?”

Your eyes meet his and they’re pitch black, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you know yours looks the same when you give him a nod but you know that’s not going to be enough for him.

“Come on, you know what I need,” his tone is mocking as he grabs his cock at the base, swiping his head through your folds, smirking at the way you try to suck him in, your body greedy for him.

“Please, please, please, please.”

All your self respect goes out the window when he pushes the tip in and you can’t stop repeating yourself. The stretch is already bigger than his two fingers and he wasn’t even half way in yet and for a brief moment you wonder if he’ll even fit.

“Fuck - baby.”

He moans as he pushes further, sheathing himself half way and he feels the way it makes your legs shake. His hand sneaks around your waist to find your clit, slippery fingers rubbing circles to get you to open up more as he rolls his hips one more time bottoming out. He groans so loud you’re sure anyone who might be smoking outside of the bar can hear him.

“Holy shiiiit, I’ve never had pussy like this.” He stills, adjusting to how tight you feel, and it’s his turn to babble as you constrict around him making him twitch - dangerously close to cumming already.

“You feel so good Stevie,” you whine as you push back against him, taking his length even deeper, feeling every curve and ridge of him against your walls.

He pulls out half way before slamming back in and it makes him curse under his breath before he does it again, only harder.

“God, fuck- this is all mine now, yeah?” he mutters, an angry edge to his words when he thinks about Devin getting to do this.

“Mmhmm,” your answer is automatic, no thoughts behind your eyes while his cock fills you in the way you fantasize about when you touch yourself.

“That’s right baby, it’s mine. You’re mine.”

His thrusts get aggressive as he gets closer to his release, your slick making it easy for him to slide almost completely out before pushing back in. The rough hair covering his pelvis rubbing your clit at the same time his tip reaches the same spot his fingers pulled your first orgasm from.

“Shit, Steve, right there.” Your jaw goes slack, eyes closing tight when he hits it again, your words spurring him on while he tries to re-grip his hold on your sweat-kissed skin.

“Yeah? you want more?” He makes sure to put all his attention where you want, slowing his hips just enough to hit it even harder. “I’ll give you more.”

Steve tilts his head to the side watching how you wrap around him, and the way he barely has to push back in, your greedy walls doing almost all the work when he finds the perfect pace that has you twisting the sheets.

He huffs out a cocky laugh and it makes you tighten in response, tears pricking the corners of your eyes.”Yeah, I know baby. I know. You gonna cum again for me?”

“Uh-huh,” you manage to get out with a nod but it’s not enough for him, he needs you loud enough for Devin to hear from across town.

The sound of skin slapping against skin drowns out the music, keeping his stamina up despite the twitch of his cock, he bends over, somehow getting deeper, the cool metal of his chain dragging across your back while one hand snakes under your waist. His fingers are unrelenting when they find their way to your puffy clit again, applying just enough pressure to get your legs to shake for him.

“I’m gonna ask again, are you gonna cum for me?” He keeps his voice even, but he knows he’s not gonna last much longer, especially not when your cheek hits the mattress and you meet his eyes looking like that.

“Yeah, god, yeah Steveee! Please, please, please.” You don’t even know what you’re begging for but it makes Steve’s resolve break.

The moan he lets out is loud enough to echo off your wall, warmth flooding your insides as he cums hard enough to collapse against your back. It’s enough to send you over the edge for the second time. Your walls fluttering enough to make his nails dig crescent moons into your hips with a low “fuck” escaping him as you milk him for more with the sweetest chant of his name he’s ever heard.

“That’s it baby.” He coos lips placing sloppy kisses along the your shoulder blades when you collapse against the mattress, your bodies tangled in a way you don’t have the energy to leave quite yet.

The radio cuts out leaving just the sound of the two of you trying to catch your breath, you can faintly hear ‘Pony’ playing from the bar below but the sound of a car driving past quickly snuffs it out. You feel his nose nudge against your ear, a slow lazy smile creeping across your face when his lips brush your temple.

“I don’t think you have a concussion, but you better stay the night just in case.”

His laugh vibrates against your back, a toothy grin pressed to your skin.

“It’s always better to be safe than sorry,” he agrees. The response you somehow managed to conjure up gets lost on your tongue when both your long forgotten Tamagotchi’s go off in his abandoned pants in a matching tune you’d never heard before.

“Our babies need daddy, honey,” he groans, slowly lifting himself up on his elbows.

You roll your eyes with a snort as he trails kisses down your back only wincing slightly when he pulls himself out. Folding your arms under your head, you still can’t bring yourself to move, but the view of him naked and still semi hard while he holds the two digital pets in his hand with a confused expression isn’t one you really can turn away from.

“What?” Your curiosity is piqued when his eyes grow big.

“No fuckin’ way,” he mumbles more to himself than you, “I didn’t even know they could do this.”

“What??” The irritation is clear in your voice, the feeling of being left out turning you into a brat.

“Umm, I think they had babies… yep. Marty definitely got her pregnant.” The smile on his face gives away just how excited he actually is and you hate to admit that it’s contagious.

“Well we’re gonna have to figure out a child support plan I’m afraid. Daisy’s a free woman Steve.” The serious delivery makes him do a double take before he narrows his eyes.

“Child support? No, we're raising these kids together. So I’m gonna need you to care a little bit about keeping her alive. It's not just you here honey.” He tosses you the toy before jumping back on the bed pulling your body into his chest with ease, “I’m afraid you’re never getting rid of me.”

---

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x y/n #eddie munson #my writing #whatta man

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hidtired · 17 days

Text

A Single Punch

(Daryl Dixon x Reader) Masterlist

The smallest action in a single moment can change everything.

Description: The line up ends with 3 supposed dead members of the group. Sometimes you have to know when to play dead. Even when all else goes to hell.

1.6k words

Warnings (much angst, injury, character death(s), very depressing, typical walking dead shenanigans)[happy ending… eventually]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Your POV

You would have gone after Daryl when he rushed out of Alexandria on a revenge mission. If not for the terrible rattle in your lungs. Every breath you took was heard. Sharp and painful. Denise the poor soul told you it sounded like walking pneumonia. Not necessarily deadly but hard to fix with limited resources.

So here you are sitting in your bathroom on the floor with the shower as hot as it could get to open your lungs. Trying desperately not to think about Daryl being reckless and doing only god knew what. A light knocking on the door shaking you from your thoughts.

“Come in.”

The door opened hastily releasing most of the steam out the door. Rick walking in past you to turn the shower off. Rick looked down at you offering a hand up. “We are heading off to hilltop. Something is wrong with Maggie and the baby. I would like for you to get checked out by the doctor there to.” Slowly getting up nodding your head. No use arguing with him when he was probably right.

While walking to the RV you looked to Rick calmly, “Thank you Rick, for being my family.” Rick looked to you with a raised brow and smirk. ‘Your loopy from sickness and meds he thought.’ He helped you in the RV to the back with a struggling Maggie. Maggie took notice on your tired state with pale skin as you did her. Rick putting a hand to Maggie’s shoulder,

“We are leaving in a minute, everything is going to be ok.”

The ride was going smoothly until the RV stopped. You exchanged a glance with Maggie, “Let’s hope we aren’t dead in the water like with Dales RV, really don’t feel like walking.” This made Maggie smile a little thinking about Dale all that time ago. Successfully distracting her for a moment.

This smooth ride turned to a nightmare with saviors popping up over and over again. Leading to you having to walk in the beginning of dusk. Maggie being carried. The whistling stirred your already hard breathing. The headlights causing your head to spin and struggle with balance. You felt like death. You felt warm and cold- a fever you thought. You were dazed but still had the right wits about you to know you were in danger. You felt a tapping on your leg, looking to see Carl on his knees. Catching the hint you followed suit. You couldn’t be bothered and sat on the back of your legs.

“Y/n…”

That what caught you out of your stupor. His voice. Daryl’s voice. You look up to see him. Pale and cover in his own blood. Tears now rimmed at your eyes. The RV door opened to reveal a man with a bat. “Pissing are pants yet?” You looked back to Daryl staring at him from across the line of your family. The slight sound of the whistle of your breathe could be heard. You were hazy struggling to comprehend the conversation going on. The man Negan you think, was walking and had stop in front of you yapping on and on about something like “was I dying of the plague” and “look like shit my dear.” He waved his hand in front of me.

“She doesn’t have a clue what’s going on does she.” Negan huffed.

Negan was walking between everyone reciting Eenie, Meenie Miny, Moe. ‘He was choosing which one of you to kill.’ You thought. He stopped in front of Abraham. Your breathing was turning faster from fear, there for making it harder for you to breath. “If any body moves-“ your ears are ringing. The first crunch of the bat to his head made you gasp then cough.

“Suck my nuts.”

Your ears ring in your brain watching blow after blow to Abraham. Negan flinging his blood in every direction. Your breathing hard, tears burning in your eyes. You reach a hand to curl to the back of your head. The other hand curling into a ball at your chest. Your clucking the hair so hard in your grip you might pull a chunk. You simply couldn’t inhale.

Negan turns to Rick then brought his eyes to you. “Well shit, looks like are little plague here bout dead.” Daryl watch’s as you try and take a breathe in, tears streaming down his face. You look worse than you did this morning. “I’m a merciful man!” Negan proclaimed, sauntering over to you. “Let me help sweetheart…” You just begin to look up at him catching a glimpse of the bat swing down to you. A crushing pain radiates through you head as you come crashing to the floor. But not just your head but hand as well.

“NOOO!” Daryl speeding toward Negan rocking him with a punch. Daryl getting easily pinned. He sobbed looking at your still body.

You were in pain and frozen like a deer in head lights. Your vision blur and the feeling of blood flowing from somewhere. The hit knocked some air into you and you tried you best to calm it. It was sallow but there. Your vision started to tunnel, blackness taking you into unconsciousness hearing sounds of the sobs of your family.

Daryl POV

In a single moment you were gone. They drag me back to my spot in line but I could only look to her still body. What was the last thing she had even said to me. This asshole killed you and he was blabbing on. He stepped out of line and was going to be joining you, he accepted that. The burning hate looking into Negans eyes. Negan only smiled, “That little plague was yours huh.” He chuckled to himself. “You should be thanking me, poor thing was dying, it was a mercy kill.” He back up a little.

“I don’t know what kind of lying asshole you’ve been dealing with but, I did say you only get one! No expectations.”

Daryl clenched his teeth, he expected his fate and accepted at least your body’s were to be buried together. “Welp, back to it!” But Negan pivoted and hit… Glenn. Sinking he felt like he was sinking. His mouth wide with shock. Glenn started stammering, Negan taunting him. “M-Maggie I’ll f-find you.” Negan winding up to hit him again. Daryl listened to Maggie’s pleas just like how his were he assumed. Hit after hit felt deeper like they should have been the one to be on him. Silents for a moment with Negan catching his breathe from exertion. This didn’t feel real. He had to be dreaming.

“Load him up.” He was being dragged away. He had little fight left in him but he fought against it. Hearing the people around him plea. He looked on to where you lay. His world, was gone and yet he still walked among it. His action then got someone’s else’s world killed. Guilt ate at him. Doors slammed in front of his face back to the darkness he once came, but now pieces missing inside him.

Rick POV

It was silent after the saviors left. Sun rising. Everyone trying to comprehend everything. Rick thought when he was being dragged to the RV with Negan that he was next. His anger at the time was now just fear. It was Maggie first to move toward her dead husband. They all scrambled to help her. She sobbed and still despite it all was still in need of a doctor.

Rick kneel next to her above Glenn. “Let us help please, he was are family to.” She agreed and stumbled into a hug with Carl. Rick looking down toward Glenn, his savior, this man was the reason he was alive and found his family. Rick gasped at the thought, ‘Thank you Rick, for being my family.’ He looked back to you, your body less maimed than the rest. You were here because Rick made you go. Hilltop, Maggie. He turned back to Maggie, “We still need to get you to Hilltop.” he looked to her with a little resolve.

Maggie clearly distraught, “I’ll get there myself, you were out here for me. I can’t let anything else happen. I just can’t.” Before he could even begin to disagree, Sasha spoke up. “I’ll take her. You need to get back to Alexandria.” Maggie agreed adding, “Y-you need to figure out to take them out.” Rick looked at her slowly shaking his head. “They have Daryl.” Rick said, and at mention of Daryl’s name the turned to your body.

Rick bit his lips trying to not break. Everyone started to move to put the bodys in the back of the truck that Sasha and Maggie were taking to Hilltop. Your body being the last, Aaron picking you up in one swoop as everyone help to lay you down into the bed of the truck between Glenn and Abraham. More tears were shed.

Before splitting into different cars, Rick goes to Maggie hugging her before she gets in the passenger seat. The rest follow to say there goodbyes for now and hope for the baby to be well.

Looking into the side mirror he look back to seeing puddles of blood and a walker kneeling down to it. Looking forward to not break from the sight and think about those he lost he make eye contact with Michonne. Then he started to drive.

??? POV

Sasha was driving to Hilltop periodically looking towards Maggie. Her mission. Maggie had tears from pain a lost going down her face. The silence was cut with a slap to the back window of the truck. A bloody hand smearing down the glass. The girls turn to each other. You must have turned, head not completely crushed like the others. Maggie sniffled, “Pull over, I don’t want her eating them.”

They both circled the back to put you down. Hearing the grumbling noise coming from you. The tailgate fell with a loud bang. Sasha climbing up knife in hand. When they heard it.

“I can’t, please it hurts.” Slurred and rough. You were alive.

Part 2

Feedback welcomed and requests open! Also little disclaimer I’m really dyslexic so any help with grammar or spelling would be great!

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl imagines #daryl x female reader #daryl dixon #daryl fanfiction #twd daryl #daryl x reader #the walking dead daryl #norman reedus #rick grimes #angst #happy ending

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river13245 · 1 month

Text

Anniversary Present

Navigation / Main Masterlist / TWD Masterlist

Word count: 3k

Warnings : virgin reader!, Smut, and two people being in love

Author note: This was made with a FTM reader in mind but GN! reader is also great too! This is my first time ever writing smut cause im just getting comfortable with doing it. So go easy on my loves. (not proof read yet)

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Daryl Dixon was a man of very few words. He wasn't very vocal about things unless he was pissed then its the most you would ever hear that man speak. It never bothered you because you talked enough for the both of you.

However despite the fact he didn't talk much. You knew exactly what he was thinking, and how he was thinking. He would become stiff and cross his arms when he's pissed. Make a little face when he was deep in thought. When he was happy he would have this smile that made your heart ache. Daryl was the most beautiful man you had ever seen.

Not many people understood him, or took the time too. Daryl kept his circle of friends small and sometimes had a hard time with making them feel appreciated but he did it in small ways. He would watch Carl and hold Judith, Make sure that Carol was always safe whenever she came back from somewhere.

Then when it came to you he would always keep you close. He wouldn't be super touchy in front of everyone. Usually keeping that in private, however he would hold your hand when you two went hunting together. Or kiss the top of your head before having to separate from you for a bit. He loves a good hug too, whenever you would come back from a trip the two of you would automatically go to each other. No matter how bloody or dirty you were, it never seemed to bother him.

Daryl was a good boyfriend, a great one. In fact in the beginning of your relationship. You had told him you didn't want sex, it was just something you had never felt for someone before. He was so supportive and said that he himself didn't feel the need to do it alot. So he had never pressured you into anything. Always making sure you felt loved in other ways.

Its been almost a year into the relationship now. Your anniversary is coming up and you had been wanting to take the relationship to the next level. You had never felt this attracted or loved by someone in your entire life and for the first time in your life. You wanted to have sex with your boyfriend.

The easy thing was accepting the fact that you were ready, the hard part was getting Daryl into realizing that. Without coming right out and saying it. So you decided the week leading up to your anniversary you would tease him a bit and throw hints his way and if he didnt pick up on them. Then on your anniversary you would be bold and tell him.

------

Throughout the week you had touched him more than you normally did. The two of you had been attending this group gathering and instead of just holding his hand your hand rested on his arm. Then when you had to leave him you grabbed ahold of his tie and pulled him into a kiss before slowly pulling away from him to go and talk to Maggie who needed your assistance. You left him there as he blushed and had to recollect his thoughts while Rick chuckled.

You even went as far as to make plans with him. He would teach you how to use a bow and arrow. So when he was behind you helping you with your stance, you moved your body right up against his. The only reaction you got from him was a sharp inhale of breath and his hand that was on your waist tightened. "keep your body still and focus on your target" he said as calmly as he could manage.

After about a week of this it was finally your anniversary. He had not caught on to what you wanted. Just thinking you were teasing him and joking around, never really taking you serious enough. Carol had even teased him about it and to which he just told her to shut up with a roll of his eyes.

He was always respectful of you, not wanting to do anything our of your comfort zone so he didn't try to pursue you in that way. However tonight you had a special gift for him.

When you woke up this morning Daryl had been gone. At first you thought he was downstairs but when you seen his boots by the door and crossbow were gone, you knew he was out hunting or on a quick run. So it gave you time to fully plan out exactly what you were going to do.

Walking back into your bedroom you go to your dresser and decide on an outfit to wear. Deciding to wear a button down dark green shirt that showed off your toned arms and black pants that would pair well with your shirt. Then when you finish getting ready you grab a box from under your bed and open it. Revealing a book you had found on one of your own solo trips, one that you were going to gift your boyfriend when you two have your date tonight.

You put the box away and spend most of your day cleaning up the house. Then making his favorite dinner and setting the table, leaving a few candles lit around the house.

By the time everything was ready you heard heavy steps in front of the door and your boyfriend walks in. You look over at him as you take a sip of your water. He turns and looks around seeing the house had been nicely decorated and a smile forms on his face before turning to look at you.

When he looks at you your eyes meet and you swear your legs turn to jello. "Happy one year Daryl" you say and he quickly takes off his boots and opens up his bag. He then pulls out bracelet and a stuffed animal that was an otter. "one year down. Many more to come" He says and you walk up to him taking the gifts in your hands and leaning up and kissing his lips. "Is this were you went? To find something for me?" Daryl nods "I couldn't come empty handed, Carol would have yelled at me" This causes the both of you to laugh.

"thank you" You look over to the table before going up to your room. "sit down and get comfortable. Ill give you your gift after" He does exactly that and waits for you to come down and sit in front of him before starting to eat. As the two of you eat there's a comfortable silence, you two never really talked while sharing a meal. Didn't bother you because you loved the time shared with him.

Once the meal was finished he takes a sip of his drink and looks over at you. "this was very good, thank you" He says as he gets up and begins to clean up everything. "I'm glad I have enough cooking skill to not burn the place down" you joke as you get up and walk over to him in the kitchen. When the two of you finish cleaning up everything you place your hand on his arm "come to the bedroom with me. You need to recieve your gifts"

He nods and walks after you until you get to the room. When you get over to the bed he stands and runs his hand through his hair pushing it back a bit our of nervousness. He wasn't exactly used to receiving gifts but if it came from you, he would make an exception. You grab the box from under your bed and place it on top of the bed. "Damn y/n what you got in there?" he jokes a little and you laugh "just a few things. You will see soon enough"

Daryl stands and when you reach for the book you turn to look at him. "shut your eyes" He looks at you with an -are you kidding- kinda look and when you nod his eyes close. Then you grab the book and walk up to him. You grab his hands and place it on the book and then watch as he opens his eyes.

When he notices its a book he is confused for a moment before flipping it around and reading the title. His hands start to shake a bit and looks up at you with a heartfelt smile. "where did you find this?" he asks as he runs his finger against the spine of the book. This causes you to look into his eyes again "That solo trip I took that ended up being almost two weeks long. I found it and remembered you saying your mom used to read it to you when you were young. You deserve something that reminds you of the good parts of your past"

Instead of a response he places the book on the bedside table. Then places one of his hands on your waist and pulls you into a kiss. Your arms wrap around his shoulders pulling him against you. His rough chapped lips pressed up against your softer ones felt amazing. Your hands move to his hair and when he pulls away his forehead rests against yours. "thank you for the gift" there's a silence for a moment before he places his other hand on the side of your face and look down at you. "I love you"

Those three words made your heart race. Of course you both have said it before but its not as often as you would think. "i love you too" you say before kissing his cheek. Then when you pull back and look at him, your hand going to push his hair away from his face. "I have another gift for you. One that i'm nervous about but I hope you will like"

Daryl looks confused "Im sure I will like it, why are you nervous?" His voice is quiet as if he didnt want you to be startled. You take a deep breath and bring your hand to rest against his chest. "I want to make love to you" you say as you look up into his eyes. His reaction is delayed because it didn't register in his mind but when it does he places both hands on your waist. "you sure?" You nod and kiss his lips "just go slow and gentle with me. Its my first time and im a bit nervous"

His hand goes to the back of your head and kisses your lips and then they travel to your jaw. "I wouldn't hurt ya" he says and you bring your hands to the bottom of his shirt and begin to lift his shirt up off him. His arms lifting up and then tossing his shirt to the side somewhere in the room. Then his hands begin to unbutton your shirt slowly before tossing your shirt somewhere. He begins to kiss your neck before pushing you back to the bed. Your knees hit the bed and you sit in front of him.

He looks down at you for a moment before grabbing your jaw and tilting your face up to kiss you. When he pulls away he gets on his knees in front of you. "lay back gotta get these pants off ya" a blush forms on your face but you nod. Your back lays on the soft mattress and he begins to unbutton your pants and you lift your hips so he can slide them off. Once you were fully exposed in front of him he grabs your legs and spreads them. "are you sure you want to do this?" you ask him in a quiet voice and he looks at you. "course I do. Why wouldnt I?"

It takes a moment for you to respond "well I know some guys prefer not to do it. You know..I just didn't want you to feel like you needed to do it" He squeezes your thighs and shakes his head. "you are beautiful. I want to do this for you, let me take care of ya alright?" You nod and he holds your legs apart as he presses his lips to your inner thighs.

Its like he's teasing you because he's pressing his lips everywhere. Except where you need him, your breath is already heavier from the growing feeling of want for him. "Daryl...please" you whimper out and he brings his lips around your clit and suck for a moment before licking up between your lips. Your body squirms a bit before he begins to please you with his tongue.

Moans escape from you as your head tilts back against the mattress and your hands go to the back of his head and pull his hair gently. This earns you a grunt from him as his eyes shut. "fuck Daryl" you moan out. When he pulls his mouth away a whine escapes you and you blush from how needy you sound. But its soon replaced by one of his fingers pushing into you. It slides in pretty comfortably from how wet you are and a moan escapes you. He lets you get used to the feeling of his thick finger inside of you before adding another and brings his mouth back to your clit.

Your back arches from the bed at the feeling. Your hands grip onto the sheets under you. This feeling was nothing you had ever felt before, of course you had touched yourself before but it had never felt like this. He picks up the pace once you begin to move your body and when you feel a tightness in your body your eyes squeeze shut. "fuck im going to cum" he groans against your clit and it sends a vibration through you and that's all it took for you to come undone.

When you cum he licks up everything that he can and even brings his fingers up to his mouth and sucks your juices from his fingers and as you watch him do this. It turns you on even more and you lean up and pull him on top of you into a kiss. A grunt if heard from him as he kisses you.

It doesn't take long before his pants are off him and hes naked on top of you. The size of him catches you off guard, of course you knew the man wasn't going to be small but its thick and you honestly wonder if its going to fit. He catches you staring and he grabs your hand and kisses it "If you want this. I promise to go slow, just tell me if you need me to stop at any time and ill stop"

He was always wanting to take care of you and you lean up to kiss him. "i will, all I know right now is I need you" a blush forms on his face as he nods and brings his hands to your legs and spreads them apart. When he lines his dick up to you his eyes meet yours "breathe and relax for me hun" You nod and take a few breaths and when he begins to move into you its a slow movement but you feel the way you stretch around him. Your eyes squeeze shut as you let out a moan. Daryl's hands roam up and down your legs. "its okay, ive got ya, i'm right ere"

When your body gets used to the feeling of him you reach up to pull him into another kiss. Your legs wrapping around his waist "move please." At your words he pulls out and then thrusts into you, moans now leaving both of you. "fuck you're so tight" he says as he thrusts into you. Your back arching from the bed as Daryl kisses your chest, his lips sucking and teeth biting you gently. "fuck Daryl you feel so good. Please don't stop" Your body begins to move in time to his thrusts which makes the both of you go at a faster pace.

The room is filled with the sounds of your bodies colliding, your loud moans. You were glad that you had a house further away from anyone's or you were sure the two of you would have been heard. His hands stayed on your hips and thighs unless he brought his thumb to circle your clit. and when he did that your eyes squeezed shut at the added pleasure. "Daryl..fuck....not gonna last much longer" He doesn't stop his movements and instead goes faster.

It doesn't take much longer than that before you cum. Your cum coats his dick and when you tilt your head back he thrusts only a few more times before he pulls out and he cums all over your stomach. He then lays beside you his body collapsing onto the bed as he catches his breath.

You reach for his hand and squeeze it as your eyes close. You only open them when you feel him get up from the bed. "where you going?" you thought he was leaving but he wasn't. "i'm going to take care of you." he goes to the bathroom and gets a washcloth wet before coming back over to you and cleaning you up. He is so gentle with you the whole time and when he is finished he lays beside you and you pull him against you. His head rests on your chest, your fingers running through his hair.

A soft laugh escapes you and he squeezes your hip. "what's so funny?" he asks as you continue to touch him. "Just thinking about how vocal and loud you were. Its probably the loudest i've ever heard you" A blush forms on his face and he rolls his eyes. "yeah yeah, enjoy it cause yer the only one that gets to hear me like that"

This causes you to kiss the top of his head. "mhm I like the sound of that. I love you and thank you for doing this with me" He hovers on top of you and kisses your lips. "thank you for trusting me enough to be the one that got to do this with you. I love you too"

That night the both of you fell asleep on top of one another. Only waking up when Carol started banging on the door. Telling you to get up for patrol with her. She ended up seeing the marks on your neck and when she made a comment Daryl stayed quiet with a small blush. it caused you to laugh.

#river13245 #fluff #masterlist #angst #male reader #gn reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead fanfic #twd #twd fanfic #daryl dixon x male reader #daryl dixon x gn!reader #daryl dixon masterlist #Daryl Dixon x reader smut #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x y/n

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bartxnhood · 1 year

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back to me | d.d

gif not mine

daryl dixon x fem!reader

summary: after the fall of the prison, you begin looking for your family again. especially, daryl. the one you loved most.

warnings: typical twd violence, blood, wounds, choking, etc.

a/n: this is just a small blurb i came up with while rewatching twd, so enjoy !! feedback is appreciated

not proofread

requests open

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you held judith in your arms, hushing her cries the small cabin fell silent as martin wrapped his arms around your neck, gradually tightening his grip. “back off!” martin yelled. tyreese started, “please. please.” he held his hands up after giving up his weapons. walkers surrounded the cabin, banging on the windows and door. judith’s screams and cries causing chaos.

“go outside.” martin continued, each second tyreese wasn’t cooperating, his grip around your throat was tightening. “go outside!” he yelled again. tyreese looked at you, “go” you gasped.

finally, he stepped back opening the wooden door and disappearing with the walkers. you close your eyes letting the tears stain your cheeks, as you heard the struggle.

martin finally released, hurrying over to the knife your friend dropped and cut off the restraint. “cynthia, do you copy?” he held the radio, but nothing was coming through. the loud noises finally ceased, and judith finally calmed down after your endless cooes and shushes.

he walked over to the door, holding his knife. ready to face whatever was beyond the door. then, busting the door down tyreese appeared and grabbed martin, talking him to the ground. you couldn’t face the scene unraveling in front of you. you scurried into the corner with your eyes closed, and judith to your chest.

when it was over, tyreese stood up and it fell silent. you opened your eyes, meeting with your friend.

tyreese helped you up, holding your side for support. you still clinging onto judith. “you okay?” he huffed, you nodded wiping the tears from your cheeks. “thanks, ty.” he nodded and began to lead you out of the cabin into the light.

“carol should be back soon, for now, it’s jus a waitin game” he held your side, comforting you the best he could.

so, that’s exactly what the two of you did. and it wasn’t very long before you saw the figures of your group approaching, carol leading them.

you saw rick first, who immediately saw his baby. alongside carl they came running and scooped the child in their arms, then hugged you softly. “thank you.” when he pulled away, your eyes began searching for daryl.

his eyes met with yours, he hurriedly ran to you. “oh god” you cried, holding him tightly. you were safe, in his arms. he had been hoping, praying to any god that heard him just to make sure you’d be safe. he held onto that hope, he knew you were strong. he never doubted that. daryl pulled back, looking over your current state. “you okay?”

you nodded, also looking at his injuries. “your face..” he shocked him. “‘m fine. swear.” he dropped his head into the crook of your neck, just wanting to be held. tears brimmed the both of your eyes, his quiet sobs filled the air followed by your sniffles.

later that night, sitting somewhere in the woods, you were accompanied by daryl. you tried your best to clean up his cuts with the little supplies you had, he insisted he was fine. you finally admitted, “i thought i lost you.” daryl watched you, dropping your bag to the forest floor. “nah. never” he reached for you hand, holding you gently.

his hands were coarse, but you missed it. you knew most people would be put off by that, but to you, his touch made you feel at home. daryl stared at you, examining every little detail, afraid of letting you slip through his hands.

he sat up, “yer neck” carefully using his left hand to brush your hair that was sticking to your neck, pointing to the now bruise forming. “what happened?” looking up from your bag, you met with his eyes yet again. “in the cabin” you swallowed, “there was one of the guys from terminus, at first we had him under control but then he..” you sighed, recalling judith’s cries. “he held me and judith hostage, i guess you could say. chokehold.”

fire burned behind daryl’s eyes, the sudden urge to find this guy and rip him to shreds. he stood up but you pulled him back down. “dar” you shook your head. he opened his mouth to say something but he couldn’t. nothing would come out.

“ty took care of it. he saved me.” you shook your head, holding eye contact. “i’m okay, i promise.”

daryl looked away, eyes dancing around on the ground as he chewed his gums trying to find out what to say. your hand rested on his shoulder, trying to comfort him. “it isn’t your fault. you couldn’t have known” he shook his head, finally returning to your gaze. “i shoulda been there”

“you couldn’t have known. it’s okay, i’m okay now, im here and you’re here.” you assured, you cupped his face. “we’re okay” daryl huffed, but you were right. you always here. “m’kay”

you kissed his nose, “okay” you smiled.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #twd daryl #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl dixon fan fiction #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon #daryl x reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine

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aurasplanet · 11 days

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I ALWAYS WILL BE carl grimes x fem!reader

warnings — violence, gun usage, reader gets injured, mentions of death, hurt to comfort (i tried at least)

carl met you in alexandria. you had lived there since the beginning of the apocalypse, so your knowledge when it comes to fighting it’s very limited. the two of you bonded immediately and it didn’t take much time for you to become extremely close. relying on each other, mostly you relying on him, for nearly everything.

he at least taught you how to shoot, and you could do it. as long as it’s either a close or still target. and you were prepared.

so maybe you weren’t that ready to go on a run or fight flesh eating dead humans… but rick was running low on people he needed to get the job done. and despite having little knowledge, you stepped up. it didn’t seem like anyone else would.

this leads you to now, in the passenger seat while carl drives around in search for a place to raid. you have to say, it was funny watching rick internally battle with letting his son and you go of all people. but you needed to scavenge and you two were the only options.

carl was just a tad on edge, not because of a fear of something happening to him, oh no. a fear of something happening to you. he hadn’t taught you what all you needed to know just to have the odds in your favor out here.

everything went well for the first few hours, you were able to get plenty of resources that negan would most likely show interest in. but of course, not everything is sunshine and rainbows in an apocalypse.

you’re both at an abandoned store a long way away from alexandria when you hear growling behind you and begin to silently panic. carl is too far from you for you to get his attention without yelling, and you wouldn’t want to do that or pull your gun in fear of drawing in more.

but your gun is all you had. all you knew how to use.

a knife couldn’t be too hard? or something sharp. you look around frantically, finding a piece of broken glass on the sidewalk near you. you wait for the walker to come to you, the overwhelming stench of death accompanied by it’s fucked face made you grimace. you shove the glass shard through it’s eye and use your knee to push the body off of you.

you make an uncomfortable noise at the dark walker blood, whatever that substance was, that dripped down your hand. you were so focused that you didn’t hear the growls of a walker coming at you from another direction. and another. another. another.

you mentally curse yourself for being weak, you shouldn’t have agreed to come here in the first place. you’re surrounded before you could even blink, “fuck it.” you mumble, clumsily reaching behind you and grabbing your gun.

you fire at the growing herd, unable to see carl’s scared expression when he realizes what’s happening. “shit, shit, shit.” he throws what he has in the car and slams the trunk hard, purposefully making a lot of noise to divert the herd from you to him.

it only works slightly, the walkers on the outer part of the herd stumble towards him. every one of them eating the bullets of his gun.

you’re honestly surprised by how many you’ve knocked down, but it’s not nearly enough. carl’s come to your rescue, yes, but the herd dissipates slower and slower. you back up the more they get closer and resort to shooting at one and stabbing at another that gets to close.

it’s working until it isn’t. you get cornered up against a broken window, your back hitting it harshly and a piece of broken glass piercing the skin. you do your best to stifle a pained noise, bending your body as much as you could without pushing it deeper and getting bitten.

your left leg comes up to stop the ones coming at you from that direction, your gun still raised and shooting at any target it could get. you hear carl’s shots get closer when a walker reaches out for you. it’s hands land on your shoulders, pushing you down. multiple pieces of glass stab into you and your hand begins to bleed from the intensity you’re squeezing the shard in your hand to numb the pain.

you head-butt the walker and twist your body to try and get free and hear a loud snap. you feel nothing, you assume it’s the walker’s bones. but your vision begins to darken from blood loss, and the last thing you see is the walker in front of you’s head getting blown to pieces.

your head is rushing, everything sounds and feels fuzzy. the surface under you is soft and everything smells clean. you blink your eyes open and look around the room, recognizing the infirmary quickly. you hear rustling before carl is face to face with you.

“oh my god…” his hands run along your body before leaning down to hug you. you wince at the contact he makes with your leg. you hear him mutter apologies before he pulls up a chair beside you. “you’re never going on a run again.”

you don’t even fight him, you just let your head fall back from the heaviness of it all. “what happened?”

carl moves his chair closer to your bed, grabbing your hand and softly running his thumb over the skin. “you lost a lot of blood, gave yourself a concussion, and broke your leg really badly.” carl laughs dryly, “you have a lot more to learn.”

you hum and giggle, reaching your hand up to feel a bandage wrapped around your head. your back is killing you and your leg is propped up. “i’m pretty banged up, huh?” you try to joke through the situation, but your smile falls when carl sniffles.

he hardly cries, unless there’s a good reason. “i could have lost you easily in that herd. you were seconds away from getting bit.” you shake your head and squeeze his hand, a way of nonverbally telling him you’re still here. “no, i just… i don’t know what i would do with myself.”

“go on.” you answer for him, looking at him sincerely. but the look in his eye is different,

“go on? there’s not a lot to live for. another one of the people i care about most dies…” carl runs his free hand down his face, “a part of me does as well.” you sigh, you knew he would say something like that. screw whatever happened to him, but something happening to you, rick, judy, michonne. he’d turn into something you wouldn’t even want to imagine.

“look at me,” carl takes in a breath, looking up with a calm expression. you can’t help but laugh a little at the tough guy he’s trying to be. “i’m still here, and as long as i can help it, i always will be.”

#carl grimes x reader #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes x you #carl grimes #twd x reader #twd fanfiction #carl grimes fluff #carl grimes angst #carl grimes oneshot #carl grimes imagine #twd angst #twd oneshot #twd imagine

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starrydixon · 1 year

Text

Together

*Based off of this request :)*

Era: Prison Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Pronouns: She/Her Word Count: 4k Warnings: language, minor injuries, slight angst, comfort-fluff

Summary: Daryl knew something wasn’t right when it takes you longer than normal to return from foraging in the woods. When he finds you injured, it's a race against a herd of walkers to return home in one piece.

It felt like a snake was constricting around Daryl’s lungs, painfully and slowly restricting oxygen from getting through his airways. A heaviness weighed down the center of his chest, causing an ache he couldn’t quite shake away. The fair hair that covered his arms and the back of his neck stood on end as the near crippling feeling of impending danger plagued his bones. His eyebrows were drawn together, causing deep worry lines to form on his forehead as he paced in front of the protective wired fence that surrounded the prison yard.

Something was wrong.

Earlier that morning, you informed him and a few others that you were headed out beyond the fence to do some foraging in the woods for a few hours. Now, the sun was only an hour away from beginning to set, and you still weren’t back.

Initially, Daryl didn’t think twice about you going out on your own. You had proved countless times that you were more than capable of defending yourself against walkers and other people if it came down to it. You had gone out numerous times before, on your own, and always made it back without even a strand of hair out of place. Daryl knew you should have been back by now, as you were a very punctual person and always stayed committed to the time frame of your plans.

“Still not back yet?” Rick spoke from a few feet away as he approached the distressed archer, who was still pacing burn marks into the gravel.

Daryl only hummed in response as he had the side of his thumb nestled into his mouth, chewing his skin raw and near bleeding. It was a nervous habit he hadn’t been able to break since his elementary school days.

“That’s not like her.” Rick stated the obvious in his southern drawl once he had reached Daryl. The archer could only hum again in response as his downcast eyes flitted between each boot distractedly.

Rick remained quiet for a few moments, silently watching Daryl pace in a tight line in front of him. The former sheriff knew there was no use in talking to Daryl at the moment, as he wouldn’t get much of a response if he tried. After a few more minutes of silence fell over the men, Daryl suddenly stopped dead in his tracks and lifted his head up, as if he had a sudden epiphany. He turned his gaze to look at Rick, who had an expectant look on his face.

“I gotta go find her.”

“I figured.”

In a haste, Daryl strapped his crossbow over his chest and made sure he had his knives attached to his belt before leaving the confines of the prison yard. The archer had his eyes trained onto the ground beneath him, blue eyes flitting over every speck of dirt that crossed his path, looking for any sign of you. It didn’t take the expert tracker long to spot your footprints embedded in the soft ground.

Like a mad man, Daryl followed the trail through the woods. Knots tightened uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach while his heart thumped so loudly in his ears, it was practically deafening. Daryl’s eyes occasionally searched the surrounding area, looking out for anything else that seemed unusual or that would prove you were in trouble. Subconsciously, the archer was praying that his gut was wrong, and that he would run into you on your way back with not even a scratch on your body.

Daryl was now climbing up a ridge. The blue sky was beginning to turn into shades of pastel pinks and oranges. He didn’t have much daylight left to search for you. The archer was suddenly brought to a halt when your trail became abruptly cold. Waves of anxiety rattled his bones, and he could feel his blood pressure rise. Frantically, his eyes darted around the immediate area, searching for something, anything, no matter how small it was, to look abnormal so he could reignite your trail.

When his gaze drifted over a patch of mud, that’s when he saw it. A smudged boot-print. Taking a step closer and kneeling down to get a better look, Daryl concluded that it was a slip.

Standing upright, Daryl nervously peered over the edge of the ridge, staring down the slope that was covered in dead leaves, broken twigs and branches, trees and stumps, and rocks ranging from pebbles to boulders. Through a few thick tree branches, the archer noticed a slumped figure laying on the ground at the bottom. Like an anchor, his stomach dropped when his strained eyes recognized the familiar olive green jacket you had been wearing that morning covering the slouched figure.

It was you.

Every curse in the book flew out of Daryl’s mouth as he hurriedly slid down the ridge in order to get to you. He tried to stay mindful of every branch and stone that got in his way so he wouldn’t end up getting himself hurt as well. The wind was practically knocked out of his lungs by the time he reached the bottom; not because of the exertion, but because of the anxiety that had its sharp claws wrapped tightly around his diaphragm.

“Y/N!?” Daryl stayed mindful of the potential threats that could be looming in the woods, choosing to whisper-shout your name in hopes of getting your attention.

To his surprise, your head lifted up and a weak, but sheepish smile formed on your lips. “Took you long enough.”

Daryl practically fell to his knees beside you, eyes darting all over your body and face in search for any injuries. His lips trembled slightly, trying to find the ability to speak, but unable to do so due to the distress that was short-circuiting his frontal lobe.

“I’m fine…for the most part.” You winced as you tried to sit up an inch. Instinctively, Daryl’s shaky hands reached out to help you, residing on your sides as gently as he could. “I messed my ankle up, and I think my shoulder is dislocated.” With an index finger, you pointed to your right shoulder.

“How?” Daryl’s worry stricken eyes fixated on yours, his hands tightening around your body as a way to assure himself that you were actually in front of him.

“Uh…” You trailed off as heat overcame your face. With your good arm, you brought your hand to your head and brushed loose stray hairs from off your face. “Mushrooms?”

The angst that was once contorting Daryl’s face instantly dropped, resulting in a rather blank expression to replace it. “Come again?”

You sighed and bashfully covered your face with your hand. As much as you were hoping for a rescue team to come find you, you weren’t thrilled about the embarrassing explanation you’d have to profess. “I wasn’t sure if the mushrooms I spotted were the good kind, or the kind that kill you, so I went to get a closer look…I didn’t see the mud and lost my footing and—well—I’m sure you can guess the rest.”

“For shrooms…that ya didn’t even know were the killin’ kind or not?” Daryl repeated in a drawl, his brain having a hard time processing your words.

“I’m desperate for that soup that Carol makes, okay!? She said the secret ingredient is mushrooms, and she hasn’t been able to make it in over a month! All the mushrooms around us are the ones that make your heart explode or whatever!” You exclaimed defensively while throwing your good arm up in the air for added emphasis.

Daryl had to pull back a few inches due to your explosive response, as he didn’t want to get accidentally smacked in the face by your wild hand gestures. The archer only blinked blankly at you as you calmed down from the anger that was rooted from your embarrassment.

“I’m not proud of how this happened.” You spoke calmly this time, as the ache in your shoulder flared up.

“‘Least ya can admit it.” Daryl hummed as he shrugged his shoulders loosely.

Before you could retort back at him, Daryl’s body suddenly became rigid and still. You felt your breath get stuck in your throat as you stared at Daryl’s still frame and wide eyes. Despite the pulse in your ear drowning out any other sound around you, you could hear the faint snarls and groans of the undead from afar. You assumed that your previous exclamation had drawn their attention, and you mentally cursed yourself out for being so careless.

You had wished that the sudden adrenaline rush that was coursing through your veins would numb your injuries a bit, but it only seemed to make you even more keenly aware of their painful burden. Your ankle burned and pangs erupted through your shoulder. The one time your body should have instinctively protected itself from pain, it didn’t.

“We gotta go.” Before you knew it, Daryl was pulling you up from off the ground in a haste.

“Dar!” You yelped in pain while almost falling into his side, unable to stabilize yourself or put weight on your ankle. “I’m pretty messed up if you’ve forgotten!”

The archer was already throwing your good arm around his shoulders while his arm wrapped around your waist; forcibly keeping you upright and supported.

“Don’ care…we gotta fuckin’ go. Now.” Daryl’s southern accent seemed even more prominent due to the stress that seeped through his voice. You winced as your injured joints flared up and burned you from the inside. A quiet curse flew out of your mouth as you tightened your hold around Daryl.

“Alright…let’s get the hell out of here.”

Beads of sweat formed on your hairline as you and Daryl trudged through the woods. Your jaw was clenched as your teeth gritted against one another. All you wanted to do was stop and scream out in pain, hoping that by vocalizing your pain, it would somehow make it go away. The sounds of the undead were getting closer, louder, and your body was getting tired.

“C’mon girl, just a little bit longer.” Daryl grunted as he pulled you along.

You couldn’t help but scoff a little in disbelief as a response. Your injuries were becoming immobilizing and your body was growing weak, causing your head to spin in dizzying circles and your vision to become blurry and unfocused. You knew you didn’t have much left in you, and that you were slowing Daryl down. If only one of you could survive, you wanted it to be Daryl.

“Stop…” You trailed off weakly as you slowed down your limped strides. Either Daryl didn’t hear you, or he was choosing to ignore you. He continued to lug you across the forest terrain.

“Stop.” Your voice rose slightly, more strict and pointed as you tore yourself away from Daryl’s near death-grip.

Stumbling backwards, you caught yourself before completely falling over. Like a flamingo, you stood on one leg while your arm cradled your busted shoulder. Daryl’s wide eyes stared at you as if you were crazy, broad chest huffing with deep breaths as damp strands of long dark hair clung to his face and neck.

“The hell ya doin’ girl!?” Daryl snapped before letting his eyes dart towards the herd of walkers, which were still at a safe distance away from you but were increasingly getting closer at a steady pace.

“I’m slowing you down! You—You have to get out of here!” Your bottom lip began to tremble as tears pooled in your eyes. Sudden emotion came over you as the realization of the current mess you were in began to set in. “If it has to be either me or you that makes it out of here alive…I choose you.”

“Jesus Christ Y/N! You’re actin’ like you’re bleedin’ out and fuckin’ dyin’!” Despite the harsh tone, emotion caused Daryl’s voice to shake.

“I can’t keep going like this, Dar. I’m hurting real bad…more than I thought I would.”

One of his hands grabbed your good shoulder while the other cupped the side of your face, his thumb resting on your cheek and holding tightly to ensure that you were looking him in the eyes.

“It’s you and me, ya understand? Ain’t nothin’ gonna change that.”

A stray tear slipped free from the corner of your eye, causing a streak of wetness to trail down your cheek. Daryl’s thumb quickly caught it before it could venture down your face further. Your head ducked and shook from side to side in disbelief.

“We’re gonna be just fine, ‘long as ya stay with me and fight.” Gulping down the vulnerability, Daryl squeezed your shoulder for his own reassurance. “I need ya, Y/N.”

For a moment, the air around you stilled and it was only you and Daryl in the woods. Your heart pounded against your ribcage at a rate you were sure was considered dangerous. Your eyes searched Daryl’s, darting between each sphere of unique shade of blue. The archer’s gaze was steady, grounding, as you struggled to convince yourself that you both could make it out alive. Swallowing down the lump in your throat, your head began to nod.

“My shoulder…it needs to be secured before we do anything else.” With a wince, you removed your hand from off your shoulder and braced yourself from the impending pain you were sure to feel. “Do it.”

“Right now?” Daryl’s eyes instinctively shot towards the herd, uneasy about how close they were getting.

“Right. Now. We don’t have another second to lose.” You gritted out through clenched teeth as your eyes squeezed shut.

Obeying your wishes, Daryl didn’t waste another second and quickly popped your dislocated shoulder back into its socket. You practically fell into Daryl’s chest as blinding pain washed over you. The taste of iron coated your taste buds due to biting down on your lip a little too hard in order to not scream at the top of your lungs. When the pain subsided just enough, you gestured towards your belt.

“If you don’t mind…”

“Ya sure?” Daryl inquired hesitantly as he was already beginning to undo the metal buckle.

“Yeah…I mean it won’t be pretty but it’ll get the job done. Besides, having my pant’s fall down isn’t as embarrassing as tumbling down a slope for some stupid mushrooms.” You admitted with a nervous laugh as you felt the leather belt begin to slide out of the loops of your jeans.

“For some stupid mushrooms that could be the killin’ kind and not the good kind.” Daryl reminded you with as much teasing humor he could muster lacing his tone. You rolled your eyes in response.

You winced as Daryl gently draped the belt around the back of your neck before beginning to tie it around your wrist. “When we make it outta here, I’ll tell ya about the time I dislocated my shoulder as a kid.”

“Can’t wait.” You wheezed out in pain. It was rare Dayl ever willingly told stories about his life, especially his childhood, so you always appreciated whenever he did feel comfortable sharing them with you.

Once you were secured in the makeshift arm sling, you wrapped your free arm around Daryl’s shoulders again, and put as much weight as you could manage on your bad ankle. The sounds of the undead were close; too close. You almost turned to look at the herd, but Daryl stopped you. After one last intake of oxygen, you and Daryl resumed your fast trek from the walkers that followed behind you.

You didn’t know how long it had taken you to reach the tree line of the forest, as you had practically blacked out from pain and exhaustion and had been only moving in auto-pilot for at least half the way back. It was near nighttime, with only a little bit of sunlight left peeking under the horizon. Your lungs were on fire, and the pain in your ankle hurt so bad, it was practically numb. Although there were a few lingering walkers trailing behind you, most had slowed down due to the soft ground and mud that made up the terrain in the woods. When you emerged from the shrubbery and branches, you almost cried when your eyes laid on the sight of the darkened prison.

“C’mon. We’re in the homestretch now.” Daryl panted from beside you as he tightened his hold around you. Nodding your head in agreement, you both maneuvered across the remaining yardage and practically collapsed when the protective gates of the prison shut behind you.

“What happened out there? We were gettin’ worried!” Rick was instantly by your side, assisting Daryl with your nearly unconscious body any way he could.

“Shrooms, man. She’s got a problem.” Daryl explained as the corner of his mouth quirked upwards for a few quick seconds.

“You’re…an asshole.” You wheezed while flipping Daryl off with as much energy you could muster. The archer only smirked in response.

“Right…” Rick trailed off as a puzzled look took over his face.

Soon you and Daryl were guided into the prison, and Hershel looked you over and treated your injuries. Your arm was put in a proper sling, and your ankle, which only had a bad sprain, was wrapped and elevated on a pillow. Bedrest was non-negotiable with the former veterinarian, and you weren’t complaining. Reluctantly, you had informed Rick about what had transpired out in the woods. You wanted to leave out the mushroom bit, but Daryl made sure the former sheriff knew, as it was “the most important detail”.

When everyone had left the room to allow you to rest, only Daryl remained. He had stayed by your side the entire time Hershel treated you. Not because he didn’t trust the older man, but because the thought of being away from you, after almost losing you, caused a whole new wave of fear to course through him. He didn’t want to be away from you for another minute.

“So…we didn’t die.” You stated a bit bashfully as you repositioned yourself more comfortably in bed.

Daryl only hummed in response. His furrowed brows and the far away look in his eyes told you his mind was elsewhere at the moment, and it caused knots to form in your stomach. You suspected that Daryl was about to scold you, as you had been anticipating it since the moment he found you.

“I’m sorry.” Your sudden admission caused Daryl to snap out of his thoughts. Bringing his gaze up to meet yours, he found his mouth going dry at the sight of you; banged up and exhausted.

“I know.”

Pushing himself off the concrete wall of your cell, Daryl took a few steps forwards before sitting down on the edge of your bed. Silence surrounded you both, and you weren’t sure if it was a comfortable one, or an awkward one. A few of Daryl’s fingers tapped anxiously on the top of his knee.

“You scared the shit outta me today.” Daryl was the first one to break the silence, and his voice was soft, gentle. You were surprised to hear that tone come out of him, as he usually spoke with a gravel in his voice. “Don’t think I’ve ever felt that scared before.”

Pangs shot through your chest as your heart broke. You felt so guilty for causing Daryl so much worry due to your carelessness. Although you couldn’t move much, you flipped your free hand around so your palm was facing upwards. You placed your open hand as close as you could for Daryl, and was pleasantly surprised when he reached over to take your hand. His warm and calloused thumb traced your skin while the rest of his hand enclosed yours. You felt your muscles instantly relax by just the mere touch of Daryl.

“Made me realize I can’t lose ya. Almost near killed me when I was waitin’ for your ass to get back and ya never did.” A humorless laugh escaped from Daryl’s mouth as he shook his head slightly. A new wave of embarrassment heated up your face again.

“Sorry.” You apologized sheepishly while giving Daryl’s hand a squeeze.

The archer wanted to say more, tell you how much you truly meant to him, but he knew you needed rest. Another round of silence fell over you both. Your heart was beating abnormally fast as you zeroed in on the feeling of Daryl’s thumb caressing your skin. Electricity shot up your arm with every gentle glide, and intense waves of heart warmed every inch of your body whenever you two made brief eye contact. Unable to take the stillness much longer, you cleared your throat.

“I think you owe me a story.”

You grinned widely as Daryl’s head dropped down a few inches in dejection. With as much energy you could muster, you scooted over to the edge of the mattress to make room for Daryl to sit beside you more closely. After a few seconds of hesitantly, the archer caved and climbed over the mattress to lay next to you. Instinctively, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, and you scooted towards him until your head rested against his shoulder. A shiver ran down your spine as the tips of Daryl’s fingers traced random shapes on your bare upper arm.

As you listened to him talk, the rumble in his chest and the warmth of his body brought you so much comfort you could barely keep your eyes open. Daryl’s presence was better than an adrenaline rush or pills of aspirin when it came to numbing the pain that ached your body. The pangs in your joints and muscles felt dull, almost non-existent, as you laid in bed practically curled up to Daryl’s side.

His light chuckles whenever he found parts of his childhood story funny warmed your chest and caused your heart to swell. It was rare to hear him laugh so genuinely, so you couldn’t help but laugh along.

“-I had to wear that damn pillowcase around my arm for the next month. All the kids poked fun at me at school, but some other kid broke his leg a few days later and me and my pillowcase were old news.”

“A pillowcase is better than a belt.” You reminded the archer as your eyes fluttered shut. At some point during Daryl’s story, his head had rested on top of yours while your body had slumped closer to his.

“I think Merle wanted to use a belt at first, but he was sure I’d get child services called on me if I walked into school like that.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, as exhaustion was weighing your eyelids down. Daryl felt like he should give you some privacy, as he felt like his presence was preventing you from resting completely, but he selfishly couldn’t part from you. The feeling of your body against his, and the comforting sounds of your even breaths gave him an unprecedented feeling of solace that he couldn’t get enough of. His own exhaustion was weighing heavily on him now, and even if he wanted to leave, he didn’t think his body could physically move much more.

When Daryl felt your body completely sink against his, he couldn’t help but peek down at you. Your eyes were shut and you had a rather peaceful expression on your face as you slept. With his free hand, he swept a few stray hairs from out of your face and tucked them behind your ear. A genuine smile graced his lips, and Daryl allowed himself to shut his eyes and sink into your warmth.

Just before falling asleep, Daryl swore to himself that he would confess his feelings for you the moment you were rested and on the mend for recovery. He always knew time was precious, especially in the world that he lived in now; Carol and Rick were constantly reminding him of that fact. But after today, he had truly felt how much time he had wasted and was determined to not waste another second.

A/N: So, I finished this faster than I thought I would! I really enjoyed writing this, so thank you to the anon who requested! I hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading! <3

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #the walking dead #twd #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction

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grimesgirlie · 12 days

Text

Love at First Sight

rick grimes x fem!reader

summary: you’re an alexandrian, and you meet eyes with one of the new people at deanna’s party, who she threw it for.

word count: 687

warnings: none!

(second person, present tense)

Lucy’s pouring you a glass of wine. She brings the bottle up while pouring, and then brings it back down once the right amount of wine is in the cup. She used to be a bartender, before all this, so she likes to show off her ‘skills’.

“There you go!” She says, dragging the ‘there’ out, and looking up at you from you glass of wine. She picks the glass up, and holds it out for you to take.

Your slim fingers wrap around the neck of the glass, you taking it into your grasp. You put on a sweet smile for Lucy. “Thank you, Lucy.”

She flattens her hands onto the flat of the table. She smiles back at you brightly. “Anytime, babes.”

You smile again at her, before walking away to go find your friends. And maybe make conversation with the new-comers.

As you’re eyes are wandering around the room, searching for someone you genuinely enjoyed speaking to, because you’re not in the mood to make fake conversation, you make eye contact with someone.

A man you’ve never seen before. An attractive one, at that. You immediately feel a spark, and a knot ties in your stomach. Like butterflies. You look away, blushing over what you just felt.

You feel the need to talk to him. But you don’t want to do it directly, and possibly embarrass yourself. So the best idea you can come up with, is linger around him until Deanna notices, and introduces you two.

So that’s exactly what you do.

You start making your way over to them. Your footsteps silent over the chatter. You make sure to not make a straight beeline toward them, or look at them, so it isn’t obvious.

They weren’t very far from you, and you’re a fast walker, so you make it near them almost immediately. You obviously haven’t planned this out well, because now you’re just standing around and sipping on your wine.

Finally, Deanna notices. She latches her hand onto your shoulder, presumably (and hopefully) to introduce you to the attractive new-comer.

“Oh, Y/n! This is perfect.” You hear her voice and turn around to face both of them. You make eye contact with the stranger, once again, and still get those butterflies in your stomach.

“Y/n, this is Rick. Rick, this is Y/n. She worked at a nursery before all this happened.” Deanna informs him. You’re confused for a second, then not the other. You spot the literal baby resting in his arms. Even though you’ve been staring at him for the last 30 seconds, you somehow didn’t notice his baby daughter in his hands.

You snap out of your trance, and stop staring at him. “Oh– yeah, I did.” You advert your eyes to his daughter in his arms.

“What’s her name?” You ask, curiously. You’re unknowingly smiling brightly. If a smile could talk, yours would be screaming.

He adjusts his daughter in his arms before answering your question. “Judith.”

Your eyes go back to bore into his once you hear his voice speak. It’s deep and hoarse.

“That’s a beautiful name. She’s so cute! Can I hold her?”

He nods his head lightly, “Mhm.” He moves closer to you, so he’s able to hand his daughter to her. You hold her in your arms. She’s light.

You lightly bounce her, and Deanna begins to speak again.

“Since she worked at a nursery, she’s kind-of a babysitter for the parents with young children here. She’s a good one too!” She speaks, sneaking in a compliment for you.

You look at her and smile because of the sweet compliment she snuck in there. “Thank you, Deanna!” You speak gratefully. You always got giddy over compliments.

Rick opens his mouth to speak, “Oh, that’s just perfect. Great to meet you, Y/n.” He sticks his hand out, for you to shake it. He’s saying nice to meet you a little late, but you ignore it.

You unwillingly let out a small giggle, and grasp his hand into yours, shaking it. “It’s nice to meet you too, Rick.”

i might make this into a series, lmk if anyone would like that!

#the walking dead #twd fanfiction #twd rick #rick grimes #rick grimes fanfiction #rick grimes fluff #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes x you #andrew lincoln #twd #rick grimes x female reader #rick grimes x fem!reader #rick grimes oneshot #rick grimes fanfic

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optimist-pine · 2 months

Text

When Skies Are Gray (Ch.1)

Summary: You cross paths with someone from your past on the worst day of your life (which is saying a lot).

Warnings: Typical TWD content! Injury, death, suggestions of SA, language, etc.

Word Count: 1,661

Era: Between seasons 3 & 4, before Rick stops going on runs

A/n: I convinced myself that Daryl Dixon and coffee shop AU could totally go together...

One mistake. Very likely your last one at that. However, judging by the look in the man's eye, you may have just enough time to squeeze in another before your life comes to a permanent close. A grand finale of utterly screwing up. Seems fitting.

Despite everything, you don't actually desire the finality of death yet. The adrenaline surging through your bones reminds you that hope isn't completely gone until your body starts walking around, y'know, without your soul attached.

Past the end of your revolver, the man's pistol aims back at you, a cruel, sordid smile crawling across his face as his gaze roams around your figure. "Came in here lookin' for somethin' to ease our appetites... Looks like we found ourselves some dessert instead." He sounds quite pleased with himself, and you can only imagine what terrible thoughts are filling his mind.

You can't withhold the cold shiver that slips down your spine, cursing inwardly. Stupid. There were so many things you should've done differently to prevent this exact scenario from happening, but you'd gotten comfortable.

The small shop held the slightest promise of ammunition; that's the only reason you'd even risked investigating it with the encroaching threat of dusk at your heels. But you'd been sloppy in scoping the place out, and careless enough that when a cold hand grabbed you from behind you'd shot without a second thought.

Now you're reaping the repercussions of your foolishness. The lump of a body lay bleeding on the dirty linoleum floor. And you stand trapped between two men with guns who have worse intentions than using them on you.

"Dammit, man, she shot Jed!" The second man cries from behind you.

The first man doesn't even spare a glance. "If he let some bitch shoot 'im, then he d'serves it." He spits

"Duke, I dunno man." His boots shift nervously. "Let's just get tha' hell outta here." Please, please do your mind pleads.

The man named Duke begins to saunter towards you slowly, toying with you. "My pal an' I here are gonna have a fun night courtesy of you, doll. Then, after, we'll kill ya." Your arms are beginning to feel the strain from holding out your own gun for so long. You readjust your grip, but what's the point? He's almost to you now. "How's that sound?" Your thoughts are swirling, there's no way you can escape without getting at least seriously injured. But if that's the only option besides giving up willingly... well, you'll take that chance. You have to.

On the count of three... one... tw

BLAM!

You drop to the ground in a crouch, expecting the inevitable overwhelming pain of being shot to take over your body - but it never does. You lift your head to find Duke... dead. You whip around to see the other man with an arrow through his eye. Your gun's back out in an instant, aimed at a new target that emerges from behind a rusty shelf.

The new man holds a crossbow, posture rigid and shoulders sturdy. A good portion of his face is blocked by the bow except for feathers of brunette hair shrouding a blue eye.

"Whoa, there." The sound of a hammer being cocked at your back sends a rush of fury through you. Was this some sort of sick joke? Held at gunpoint by two men, then being rescued only to be held at gunpoint again by two different men? If you were honest with yourself, it wasn't all that surprising though. As far as luck went you were permanently scraping the bottom of the barrel.

The crossbow in front of you lowers suddenly. "Lav'nder?"

Now that you can see both of them clearly those blue eyes look awfully familiar. "Dixon?"

BLAM!

A blinding pain floods through your right shoulder so quickly that you collapse, sharp waves of heat blooming and spreading and taking over your whole body. You can see your gun lying in the dust and dirt. Huh, you hadn't realized you'd dropped it. You study the weapon as the daylight dims; the sun must not be wasting any time in its descent this evening. You think someone is talking but their voice is fading, the pain is numbing, the darkness is turning to black. There's never been a colder place than the floor of this cursed little shop.

One last stop before heading back home. An old hole-in-the-wall gun store on the off chance they'll find anything to help replenish the resources depleted in the fight against the Governor.

What little promise the place does have dissipates the moment a solitary gunshot rings through the air; all senses immediately on the alert. It isn't hard to discern the situation, the lead man's intentions are unmistakable. And so, they do what they've had to do too many times before.

But when the woman turns around, what he sees takes him a minute to process. You. He knows you. The word sounds stupid, but it escapes him nonetheless. Then again, maybe not completely stupid because you do remember him.

BLAM!

"Dammit!" Daryl shouts, unleashing his arrow into the skull of the third man. The man they'd mistakenly presumed was already dead. He rushes to your side, inspecting the wound. Clean through the shoulder. Good. He removes his vest and sheds his long-sleeved shirt, tying it around your shoulder, holding pressure. By the time he manages to bring himself to look you in the eye, you're already out of it.

Rick rifles around the men's belongings, gathering up their weapons and anything else that's useful. "You know her?" He asks, skeptical, with that particular cock of his head.

Daryl nods. "M'yeah. I did." He replies softly. You looked so different now; ragged, weary... alone. But still, he would recognize you anywhere. "C'mon, we gotta get 'er back to Hershel and Dr. S."

Rick's checking out your belongings now, snatching your gun off the floor to inspect it. "D'you trust her?" He asks.

Daryl hefts you up into his arms - it's easier than it should be. "She's a good one." An understatement.

"Heh, yeah." Rick chuckles, holding your gun out for him to inspect. "Cylinder's empty. Held off four men with a gun that wasn't even loaded." He gives Daryl a nod. "Let's get 'er home."

Daryl sits with your head in his lap, the rest of your body carefully draped across the backseat of the truck, hair spilling haphazardly across his pant legs. His fingertips hover nervously above your face, the overwhelming urge to physically reassure himself that you're really here growing by the second. He's terrified though. Why? Jus' do it. Rough fingers ever so gently brush dirty locks behind your ear, revealing sun-worn skin gone pale.

It's like he can't look long enough or hard enough at your face to make it feel true. To make you feel real. Are you? Out of anyone who could've found their way here from his past... Out of all the deadbeats and scumbags he would be unsurprised to find thriving in the lawlessness...

It was you.

The town had one lonely cafe, which was unfortunately sandwiched smack dab between the tattoo parlor and the pub - aka, Merle's playground. Once Merle had left for the military and then landed himself in prison, Daryl had kept to the same old routine more out of habit than desire.

He was on his way to the tattoo parlor late that afternoon - he can't remember why he was using the front entrance because he almost always went in through the back - but that day he had to walk past the happy little cafe to get there...

It's a warm spring day, the air beginning to fill with the scent of flowers instead of just dirt and cold. Which also means that people are sitting out front of the little coffee joint straining to soak up the last rays of sunshine. The shop windows are open to let in the fresh air, making the place seem noisier than usual.

"Lavender latte!" A barista shouts around the clamor from inside.

The screech of metal on cement to his left as a girl pushes out her chair. Just as he's about to walk past, he hears the scuff of a foot against the sidewalk and suddenly she's falling toward him. He reaches up to brace himself and stabilize her shoulders as her palms thud against his chest.

She pulls back, quick as a whip, eyes huge as pink begins to sprout on her cheeks. "I'm so sorry!" She blurts, gaze flickering around. It's weird, but he can't help but notice that she smells good, like really good. Flowers and citrus and earth, real things, not just some overpowering canned perfume like he's used to being around at the bar. She's cute too, feminine but not girly or gaudy, hair wind-whipped, hands and feet with remnants of dirt like she's been outside working. The pages of a paperback flutter in the breeze on the table behind her, the stem of a flower peeking out the bottom of the book.

"Are you okay?" She asks, eyes focused surely on his now, irises deep and unwavering and... Idiot. He's staring and he hasn't said a thing and you're waiting for a response.

"M'fine." He says with a grunt, crossing his arms. He almost tells you off for being so clumsy but the barista shouts again:

"Lavender latte!"

She brushes her hair behind her ear as if it's a nervous habit. "Oh, okay. That's good... I'd better go get that." She laughs, the corners of her lips just barely pulling up. She starts to walk away but then quickly turns back around. "Thank you!" A full smile this time, and then she disappears behind the door.

He shakes his head. Entertaining thoughts about a girl like that is ridiculous. At least, that's what he tells the rapid drumming of his heart. Shut up.

#twd #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #optimist pine #twd season 3 #twd season 4 #when skies are gray

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carlsdarling · 9 months

Note

We need a 3 of no mercy please I beg of you

No Mercy Part III

Many requests for this 😊 The love-hate-story between Carl and Negan's daughter continues... Everyone is 18 or over.

WARNINGS: smut, nsfw, angst, abortion theme, unprotected sex

You had been back in the sanctuary for a few weeks now. After your period failed to start and the nausea continued, you panicked and took a count. Your periods had never been regular, but now you came to the conclusion that you hadn't bled in at least eight or nine weeks. The last time you had bled was before you had slept with Carl for the first time, that time behind the horse stables. Anyone who wasn't completely naive could have figured it out sooner: You were pregnant. You sat in your room and sobbed desperately. Under no circumstances must your father find out about it.

No, you could not have this baby. There was not even a doctor in the sanctuary since your father had burned the last one alive. In your distress, you sought out Amber, who - at least that was your assumption - knew about such things. "Amber, I'm pregnant," you said straightforwardly.

She looked at you with widened eyes. "It's not really true, is it? You're kidding."

"No, it's true." You burst into tears.

Amber quickly locked the door to her room. "Okay, and who's it from?"

"It's Carl's. Carl Grimes," you confessed, embarrassed.

"What!" exclaimed Amber in horror. "Oh my god, Y/N. Negan is going to flay you and Carl alive."

"He mustn't know, Amber, I can't have this baby!" Full of panic, you clutched her thin wrist. "What can I do?"

"How do you feel about Carl?" inquired Amber sympathetically. "Was it just a one-night stand, or...?"

It took you a long time to answer. "No, it was... more. I hated him like hell in the beginning," you said pensively. "We still had sex on and off, and it was great. But then... Carl is... he's so special. I think maybe I've grown to like him. A little bit, at least." Sheepishly, you played with the bed covers. "But it's not mutual, unfortunately," you then added sadly.

"Too bad," was all Amber said, "Carl's got guts, and he's handsome, too. It was very brave of him to break into the Sanctuary back then. He'll make a good leader someday." You had never thought of it that way - to you, Carl's action had just been stupid and careless. Now you realized that Amber was right and how courageous Carl was; even all the other times he had rebelled against Negan, even though Negan was much older and stronger than Carl was. He had never let your father intimidate him. Not even when Negan wanted Rick to cut off his arm. "Didn't you use any protection?"

"Well, sometimes not," you evaded, hiding from her that Carl's breeding kink had been part of your mutual attraction. You yourself had loved the feeling of him lavishly spilling his seed into you, and now you were receiving the reward. Somehow you had assumed that nothing would happen. Which had been stupid, of course.

„How long is it since your last period?“

"More than two months," you mumbled.

Amber took a deep breath. "That's too late for the morning-after pill. Way too late."

Frantically, you considered, "What other options are there?"

"Without a doctor? Hardly any, unless you want to die trying to get an abortion," Amber clarified to you relentlessly.

You cried again. "But there must be something! Herbs, something! Wait." An idea had occurred to you. You walked over to Amber's closet and pulled out a wire coathanger. "I saw this in a movie once. You have to help me."

"No, Y/N. Oh no. Forget it," Amber fought back. "You're going to bleed to death, and it's my fault."

"Like you just said, Amber. My father is going to kill me. Please," you pleaded.

She relented against her knowledge. "All right, same time tomorrow, here. Katya will be back soon. And I can't promise you it'll work, and it'll be painful as fuck." You nodded in embarrassment and fear. The danger of dying during an amateurishly performed abortion was real.

***

You went back to your room and wept. You didn't want to abort Carl's baby, that was the truth. You constantly saw Carl's cute face in front of you, heard his mocking remarks, felt his hot breath on your skin. You were dreaming of him. You were longing for him. You might as well admit it to yourself: You loved Carl Grimes, and you missed him sorely. And now you were carrying his child, and that couldn't be. You'd probably never see each other again, and either way Carl wouldn't want a baby with you, let alone a relationship.

But everything turned out differently than planned. When you went to dress yourself the next morning, your father burst into your room without knocking as you stood there in your underwear. Horrified, you stared at him, unable to cover yourself. Negan's gaze immediately captured your swollen breasts and ever so slightly bulging belly. His eyebrows rose, then he averted his eyes in bewilderment. "Come to my office immediately when you are dressed," he ordered expressionlessly.

You were standing in front of him with a palpitating heart. "Whose is it?" he demanded to know harshly. "It can only have happened in Alexandria, you are already starting to show, and you were vomiting on the ride over here." Angrily, he marched back and forth.

"It... it's from Carl," you said in a low voice.

Your father eyed you, stunned. "Please what?" he then shouted. "You were spreading your legs for the future serial killer? Unbelievable," he laughed bitterly.

"No, it wasn't like that, it..."

"What do you mean? Did he rape you?" he asked lurkingly.

"No!" you said firmly. If Negan believed that, he wouldn't rest until he had killed Carl. "No. It was... consensual." Your face reddened.

„Fuck it“, Negan ruffled his hair, perplexed. "Get your bag and come along," he then ordered, grabbing your arm and dragging you outside. There he gestured for you to get in the car.

"But what..." you started.

"We're driving to Alexandria," Negan announced grimly. "Let's see what fucking Carl Grimes has to say about this. And Rick, under whose roof you've been living." The ride passed in silence, except that once again you felt nauseous. You were tense and anxious, unable to gauge what your father was up to and how things would proceed. Finally, the Alexandria gate appeared in front of you; the guards immediately got into position when they recognized Negan. He got out and raised his hands in the air. "I want to talk to Rick," he demanded. "You see, I'm not armed." It wasn't long before Rosita and Daryl escorted you both to Rick's house. You hadn't seen Carl in so long, your heart pounded excitedly and somehow you felt an anxious anticipation mixed with fear.

Rick gazed open-mouthed at you and asked you into the kitchen in a reserved manner. "I thought we had everything settled for now," he said icily to Negan. "So why are you stalking us again?"

"Well, it's not my fault," Negan replied aggressively. At that moment, Carl entered the kitchen, closely followed by Enid. They held hands, and you quickly looked down at the floor. You never thought it would hurt so much, although you should have expected him to find another girl. He probably loved Enid - he had never loved you. Carl looked from one to the other in surprise.

"I don't understand," Rick said, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Well, it's about Y/N and Carl," Negan replied with a cutting tone. "I assumed Y/N was safe under your roof! You personally guaranteed her safety!“

Rick began to look more and more confused. To him, you seemed to be in good health; a little pale, perhaps. "Enid, go home. Carl, you stay here," he then ordered in a bossy voice. Enid kissed Carl goodbye and disappeared with her head down. "Now speak up," he then turned to Negan. "Will you stop talking in riddles?" You and Carl exchanged a cautious, uncertain look.

"These two here got it going!" accused Negan at him. "Carl fucked my daughter. In your house, Rick! Don't tell me you didn't notice!"

Rick was scratching his head, perplexed and surprised. "I actually didn't, you'll have to take my word for that, Negan," he then muttered. "I just noticed that they liked each other - even if they denied it. But what the hell, they're teenagers, it's only normal for them to engage in sexual experiences, you can't help it, and..."

"Y/N is pregnant!" yelled Negan. "Your scumbag of a son made her a baby!"

Now Rick was left speechless, and Carl looked completely shocked, while you started crying miserably. No one wanted this baby but you, and everyone saw you and the pregnancy as a problem, an inconvenience. Rick grabbed Carl's wrist. "Carl! Is this true?" he asked sharply.

Carl widened his eye, overwhelmed. "I, uhm, well... it's true, we had sex." His cheeks were bright red with bashfulness.

"And did you use protection, yes or no?" barked Rick angrily, while Negan watched the whole thing with his eyebrows furrowed.

Meanwhile, Michonne entered the kitchen. "What's going on?" she wanted to know in wonder. "What's he doing here?" Accusingly, she pointed at Negan.

Rick paid no attention to her, he focused on Carl. "Yes or no, Carl?" he insisted.

"No," the latter admitted sheepishly, looking down at his shoes.

"You've got to be kidding me," Rick groaned, letting go of Carl and sinking into a chair, cradling his face in his hands. "Carl and Y/N slept with each other without using protection, and now Y/N is pregnant," he informed Michonne. "Carl, are you fucking nuts?" he then hissed in anger. "We did give you the talk on time, didn't we?"

"Now don't all pick on Carl," you timidly spoke up. "It's just as much my fault."

"Yes, indeed, it is!" your father snapped at you. "Are you too dumb to know about condoms?"

"I didn't think you'd be so irresponsible and stupid," Rick stated, shaking his head, looking at you and Carl in disbelief.

"Stop arguing now," Michonne intervened. "That's pointless. What's more important is how to proceed. How far along are you, Y/N?"

"I don't know," you said shyly. "Maybe by the tenth week?"

"We could ask Denise if abortion is still an option," Rick reasoned.

"And take the risk that Y/N won't survive it? Your Denise is not a surgeon," Negan objected. Carl remained silent.

"Y/N, what do you want? And Carl, what do you say?" Michonne looked from one to the other. "You both made this baby, after all."

"I... would it be possible for me to talk to Y/N alone?" asked Carl hesitantly. Your hands grew sweaty with stress.

Rick and Negan looked at each other. "Alright," Negan then conceded suspiciously. "But only where I can keep an eye on you guys."

The two of you went outside and stopped in front of each other not far from the kitchen window. "Ummm... so you're pregnant," Carl noted uneasily, nibbling his fingernails. So now was the time he would tell you that he felt nothing for you - nothing positive, anyway - that his heart belonged to Enid and he wanted nothing to do with the baby.

You tried not to cry as you said, "Yes. And before you start doubting it, yes, it's yours, Carl!" you added, hurt. "I have not been with anybody else but you."

He looked at you in amazement. "I know," he said, touching your cheek lightly. "I... I thought about you a lot when you were gone," he then explained, suddenly looking deep into your eyes. "Y/N, I know you don't feel the same way, but I missed you," he said softly.

"And... and Enid?" you asked in a squeaky voice.

Carl sighed. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again," he said unhappily. "Enid's awesome, but... I simply can't forget you."

"Carl, I like you," you blurted out, starting to sob after all. "I like you a lot, in fact."

He smiled delightedly. Carefully, he took your hands. "Could you imagine being with me? That we'd have the baby together?" You nodded tearfully. "Then come on, we'll tell them."

"You guys want to do what?" exclaimed Rick.

"We want to be together," Carl confirmed. "In fact, we like each other. I'm going to break up with Enid, and I'm going to take care of my kid."

Michonne, Rick and Negan looked at each other, wordless and baffled. Negan was the first to regain his composure. "All right, you're both coming with me to the Sanctuary then," he decided.

"That's out of the question," Rick immediately objected.

"We don't even have a doctor," you said reproachfully to your father. "And I want to stay here with Carl." Negan shook his head stubbornly. "We're not coming with you," you said petulantly.

"Y/N needs medical attention," Michonne pointed out.

Negan pondered. "All right," he finally relented. "Actually, I don't want the future serial killer in Sanctuary either," he growled with a sideways glance at Carl, who was nervously fiddling with his flannel shirt. "He's just stirring everyone up. But for now, just until Y/N gives birth. Then we'll see." Carl and you fell into each other's arms relieved.

Later in Carl's room, you finally gave in to your desire for each other and embraced. Carl stared raptly at the tiny bulge of your belly. "It's hard to believe you're really pregnant by me," he said astounded, touching your belly.

"Did you fuck Enid?" you wanted to know. The thought of it hurted you.

"Let's not talk about Enid," Carl dodged the question and kissed you again. "I'll talk to her first thing tomorrow. I hope she understands."

And I hope it doesn't turn out that Enid is also expecting now, you thought darkly.

"Carl, if... if we have sex now like we always do, it could harm the baby," you remarked fearfully.

He gave you a naughty grin. "Also, even though we're both into hard sex, we can do it gently for a while," he suggested. You kissed and moved to the bed, where you slowly undressed and caressed each other. Carl looked at you lovingly. "I've missed you so much," he whispered, as he lay carefully on top of you.

You couldn't wait to feel him inside you. "I missed you too," you said, spreading your legs for him. „I want you so badly, Carl.“

"Yeah, I can tell," Carl teased you, "You're soaking my entire bed right now." He propped himself up on his elbows and tenderly penetrated you, looking deep into your eyes while slowly pounding in you.

You arched your back in delight as he eagerly thrusted into you. "Oh, Carl," you breathed into his ear. "It's so good." Carl looked down to see his cock sliding in and out of your pussy, all slick with your moisture and his precum. It was an incredibly arousing sight. He unfolded your labia with his index finger and changed his position slightly, so that his pelvis rubbed against your clit, driving you completely insane. "Carl," you whimpered, kissing his neck and ear. "Faster, please," you gasped, and Carl increased his pace until he was ramming his cock into you fiercely and you cried out as you cum and reared up under him, wrapping your legs around him.

Carl gave you two more orgasms so that you were just a quivering, begging mess, then he moaned loudly. "I'm cumming," he sighed, and his cum filled you warmly, there was so much that it immediately leaked out of you again, staining the already wet and sticky sheets.

You lay together relaxing and stroking each other. Carl's heart was beating a fast rhythm, and you remembered the day when you feared he was dead. "I was really afraid then that you were dead or turned," you said softly. "I couldn't have stand it."

"And I thought you really hated me and didn't reciprocrate my feelings," he admitted. "Yet I was already in love with you. I couldn't admit it, though." He smiled wryly.

"Carl?" you asked after a while, as you lay snuggled together, enjoying your intimacy and being so close to each other.

"Huh?" he replied sleepily.

"May I see your eye?"

He sat up, suddenly appearing to be tense. "Um... why?" he hesitated.

"Well, now that we live together and everything... you don't have to hide it from me anymore," you said softly. „It's certainly not good for the scar if you keep it bandaged at night, just because you're shy in front of me.“

With shaky fingers, Carl fiddled with the bandage, then dropped his hands again. "Y/N? Please, don't say anything spiteful about it," he pleaded. "Whether you really mean it or not, I don't care. Just don't do it." You had never before seen Carl so vulnerable. "I know it looks gross."

You hugged him tightly; you wanted him to feel safe with you. "Carl, it doesn't matter. I don't care what it looks like. It’s ok." He precariously took off the bandage without glancing at you. Well, it wasn't the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen, but it was part of him, and you didn't mind. You would soon get used to the sight, and then it would just be normal. Not beautiful, not hideous, just normal.

"It... it looks nasty, doesn't it?" he asked anxiously.

"It does look bad ass," you said honestly. "But seriously, I don't give a fuck, and I don't think it's ugly. I love you, Carl.“ You pressed your smooth cheek against his right, maimed one.

He hugged you back with relief. "I love you too, Y/N." His lips touched yours.

___

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#the walking dead #twd #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes smut #carl fanfiction #carl grimes #carl grimes imagines

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burntoutdaydreamer · 3 months

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Book Openings I Love

Deciding how to start your book is an important and daunting question. I put together a list of book openings I love- and what makes them so good- to help brainstorm.

If you have any you'd like to add, please do! Let's keep this post ongoing.

1) Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief by Rick Riordan

Anyone who read this book as a kid will know exactly what I mean.

'The Lightning Thief' starts with a warning to the reader to stop reading the book immediately and believe whatever lies their parents have told them. Otherwise, 'they' might come for them.

An adult might roll their eyes at this, but as a kid, you believe it. You find yourself wondering if what you're reading is true. It makes you feel like you're a part of this story- even if you haven't realized it yet. So, as you read on, you might end up looking for the signs and clues that this world of Greek gods and monsters exists around you in real life. The lines between fiction and reality blur, if only for a little while, and you become immersed in the story, because on some level, you can't help but want it to be real.

It also leaves you feeling that by reading this, you're doing something forbidden- something dangerous. Exactly the kind of stuff that gets your heart racing as a kid.

2) Life of Pi by Yann Martel

Life of Pi is one of my favorite books of all time, and the beginning has a lot to do with it.

"This book was born as I was hungry. Let me explain."

The book begins with an author's note that's not exactly an author's note. It begins as any author's note might- the writer explains how his previous publication was a bust, and that he took a trip to India to reinvigorate his creativity as he tried to write a new book that ultimately sputtered and died. That was, until he met a man who promised to tell him a story that will make him believe in God. The man then told him to seek out the main character, who is alive, and living in Canada. When the author does, he agrees that his story is indeed a story to make one believe in God, and commits to writing it down as a book through the main character's point of view, only with the disclaimer "any inaccuracies or mistakes are mine."

As they follow this progression, because of the way it's all structured, there's a good chance the reader might find themselves asking "Wait, is this a true story?"

The answer is of course no, and anyone who's read through most of the book would probably figure that out easily. However, if you get to the ending, you realize the question "Is this a true story?" has significant implications for the story's themes- and that makes them all the more resonant.

TL;DR: Life of Pi's beginning does the same as The Lightning Thief's beginning, only in a less obvious way that's far more effective on adults.

3) One of Us is Lying by Karen M. McManus

The premise of "One of Us is Lying" is that someone killed a boy named Simon, and that the people in the room when it happened- who just so happen to be the four POV characters- are the main suspects. The book then starts off my immediately putting the reader in the scene where Simon dies.

Now I'm not sure if this is a common mystery novel set up (I haven't read enough of this genre to know), but it's an effective one. This has the effect of getting the reader engaged in the story right from the get-go. Instead of passively reading the chain of events, the people who picked up the book are already going to be searching in between the lines for any clues on 'who done it.'

But not only is the reader looking all the little details in the scene, but they're also going to be questioning the POV of the person narrating the chapter. From the very start of the story, the reader gets immersed in several levels of tension that hook them and carry them through the rest of the story.

4) The Giver by Lois Lowry

"It was almost December, and Jonas was beginning to be frightened. No. Wrong word, Jonas thought. Frightened meant that deep, sickening feeling of something terrible about to happen."

The first chapter begins with a scene of an aircraft flying overhead a peaceful community, and a child narrator who's overly careful about using the right words to describe things. The narrator's trait doesn't appear to be unique though- a quick flashback to a moment in his classroom shows that this tendency has been drilled into him, just as with any other kid. The reader immediately gets the sense that something is off. What that something is, though, is a bit harder to pin.

There doesn't seem to be anything nefarious going on, aside from maybe the mention of a citizen getting 'released' after the aircraft landed and everything calmed down. Only, later in that chapter, being 'released' gets mentioned twice again at his family dinner, as his parents discuss how their work went that day. But otherwise, the dinner seems to be a normal and mundane affair with an emotionally mature, functional family. Maybe a little too functional.

So, when Jonas decides that the feeling he's experiencing is 'apprehensive,' the readers start to feel that way too.

5) A Natural History of Dragons by Marie Brennan

The preface and first chapter of "A Natural History of Dragons" does a great job of introducing one of the series's greatest assets: its main character.

"One benefit of being an old woman now, and moreover one who has been called a "national treasure," is that there are very few who can tell me what I may and may not write."

In the preface of the book, we find out exaclty who the main character/narrator is: a famous Victorian-era woman and accomplished dragon scholar, who's too old to care about being a 'proper lady' anymore. What's more, she's writing a series of memoirs about her life to satisfy the many adoring fans who have been writing her letters in hopes of hearing about the juicy gossip of her famous expeditions.

The narration oozes with personality from the very beginning, and that's before we even get to meet any dragons. Following this introduction, we get to see where her passion for dragon studies began: collecting little dragon "sparklings" as a kid. While her fictional readers would know these little creatures as commonplace in her world, the actual readers don't, since this world is as new to us as it was to her as a child. As such, the reader gets to share in her childlike wonder, and gets excited by the promise to discover the secrets of dragons right along with her.

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loveshotzz · 11 months

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bouncer!steve x fem!reader Steve’s night

🎵 I finally found someone that can make me laugh, hahaha you so crazy, I think I wanna have your baby. 🎵

summary: you’ve got a crush on the new bouncer at The Foxy Lounge. turns out he’s not very good at his job.

word count: 13.6k

warnings: 18+ 90’s AU// Steve is in his early 30’s, Your date gets drunk and says some night nice things, some mild violence (bar fights), possessive steve, fingering, smut (p in v) cream pie, ass eating (f! receiving), oral (f! receiving), dirty talk.

authors note: part two of Whatta Man (steve’s night) you don’t need to read eddie’s to read this one it’s just a little more fun if you do. i’ve seen other writers repost their work after it’s been flagged so here I am. I worked on this for months. please be kind.

“Lucky for the both of you, it’s always just me.” Winking when you take a swig, the bitter liquid and the company eases the bad day out of your bones almost instantly.

Rolling your eyes with a snort, you start picking at the white sticker wrapped around the bottle.

“As if you know my type, Munson.” You can’t control the twitch of your lips the second the words leave your mouth when you finally dare to meet his amused gaze.

“I do NOT talk like that, asshole!” Launching a handful of bar nuts at him, he raises his hands in mock surrender shaking out the few that got stuck in his hair with a booming laugh.

“We’ll see about this Steve guy you won’t shut up about, who knows Eddie, maybe it’s you who’s got a crush.”

Sweeping up the mess you made behind his bar he smirks before wiggling his brows.

“Everyone’s got a crush on Steve, baby.”