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Here He Is, Finally
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Synopsis: “When’s it gonna be my turn? Open me up, tell me you like it, fuck me to death, love me until I love myself—” This is a story about the inner struggles of a desiring Daryl who just wants to be free of the perceptions the town, and his own mind, have put on him, so he can love you and love himself, in the ways he’s always wanted to.
—or: As Daryl becomes the talk of the town, insecurity sets in that hinders him from having sex with you— the thing you most want to do.
Details: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader, ambiguous age gap, mixing early seasons’ + later seasons’ personality of Daryl, the town being mean but also thinking Daryl’s hot because he is, discussions of gossiping, insecurity, and poor self-image, Daryl fights someone :), and smut— unprotected + he’s nervous but then it gets good, and it’s their/Daryl’s/your first time in whatever way you want it to be.
A/N: He’s literally me (I’m a girl).
— With love from writella. ♡
There it was. You finally said it. You told Daryl that you were ready to have sex.
When you told him, the two of you were having a quiet morning and he was about to leave. Pulling yourself up to his height, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and he took you by the waist, one hand reached up to hold your head, rubbing his thumb there. Good, you had thought, he’s reciprocating. That let you know he was okay, but still, underneath, you knew he was embarrassed about last night. You weren’t going to bring it up though, not then. You wanted to move forward, to show him that you didn’t care. “Daryl,” you started, words slow, uneasy in voice but sure in intention, as you whispered to him from above his shoulder, “I just wanted to tell you– that– I feel like I’m ready.” You paused for a moment. “And whatever you feel, I’m okay with it. Just talk to me.” As silence ensued, you kissed him on the cheek, “I love you,” you said, and pulled back.
Daryl kept his hands in yours as he looked at you. His features were sad and soft as much as they were unreadable. He kissed you on the forehead. “I love you too,” he said– it wasn’t the first time you two had exchanged those words– and then he left. Just like that.
You had no expectation for how he would react. You only knew he wouldn’t give you a flat-out no, so this, was understandable. But still, there was something hollow about it, even if his kiss and words were tender. It was another relationship moment that reminded you that these things never happen as they do in fairytale romances.
You see, you had always pictured him or whoever you were with at the time, bringing you close, kissing you, their fingers trailing down and under the hem of your skirt or pants, asking you if you were ready, if you were sure, if you wanted them to go slow, slower, but Daryl— as it turns—was incredibly pure, or at least pretending to be. Either too nervous or sensitive about these things, possibly inexperienced, or much more innocent with his intentions than you ever expected. It’s like you knew Daryl like the back of your hand, but when it came to anything about you as a couple, his history, who he’s dated before– you were clueless. You didn’t know what it could be.
One thing you did suspect, although Daryl has never told you, is that he thought of you as precious, something to be delicate with, like a flower. Sometimes you’d tell him he didn’t have to be so slow or soft when you were kissing– he was always a little sloppy anyway– and whenever there was a task to get done you’d be the first to tell anyone you could do it yourself, he knew this about you. And it’s not like he babies you or anything, that was never his way. Like when you two were fighting walkers, or doing work around the communities, or when he’s teaching you how to do something. You’ve even told him that he could be a bit demanding sometimes, grouchy, rough, and he agreed– that was true. He didn’t do it on purpose, the whole being hard on you thing. But alone? When he was on top of you or you over him? Waking up to you? Feeling your hand reach for his own in the dark? Even just eating dinner with you? The guy was a mess! A little boy, even. Heart racing. Eyes averted at times.
Whenever he nipped you, on the lips, or the neck, maybe he pushed you on the bed too hard, grabbed your waist too tight that it squeezed the bone, there were always silent apologizes of gentle circles, sweet kisses, and tongue licks to soothe the pain or possible bruises he left on you. And sometimes, when you’re home alone or you shower together, and he starts to kiss you or pull you in by the waist, he almost always sets out with the intention that this time he’d finally do it— the sex thing— he always wanted to. Only if you knew! Honestly, he’d feel like such a pervert if he let you know how many times, both before and after you got together, that he’s thought of being inside you, or you on your knees for him, or him kissing up your thighs and tasting you– he genuinely thinks he’d really like it, all of it, but especially that. But every time you’ve kissed and kissed enough, he’d get too overwhelmed about how to proceed or too nervous to even try. He tells you that you two should shower or go to bed or that he has to go for whatever reason. So all you’ve done is grind on each other, a lot, but that’s about it. You know he’s gotten hard and you’ve gotten wet, but you’re not sure if he’s ever noticed. He wants to put his hands in your pants, he wants to rip your blouse, he wants to squeeze your tits and slap your ass, but every time he thinks about actually doing it, he feels it's too forward or raunchy, or maybe it's not actually like him in the way he’s pictured in his head, or maybe you’d hate it, and specifically the way he did it. And he has thought about doing it slowly, romantically, but every time he thinks about doing that, he feels stupid, thinking he’ll come off as clumsy and pathetic to you. He doesn’t exactly get the concept of slow and sexy yet— reaching up, breathing you in, letting his fingers linger, or hands caress and massage. It’s not that he couldn’t do it though, or so he thinks, if he really tries; it's that doesn’t even think he’s sexy to begin with.
The only thing Daryl knows for sure are the things people call him when they think he’s not listening.
“Deep and… grunty,” one much too young girl said to her equally young friend who giggled, indicating her agreement even if she was too afraid to verbalize it. “I just like his voice,” the first girl said, “it’s sexy.” Or, “Wild,” as one of Aaron’s friends whispered to him, “Like he could throw me around, do it in front of the whole town, and wouldn’t care who saw.” To which Aaron scoffed and replied, “That’s literally my fucking friend.” But in truth, it’s not like he hadn’t thought about it himself, how Daryl looked underneath his vest and button-downs– it was just once though!– he promises!– as if he needed to explain it to himself. He even told his husband about it; they had agreed on Daryl’s attractiveness. Eric called it “rugged,” and they laughed about it over dinner. Now, Aaron would repeat that word as he overheard another group of ladies discussing ways to describe or trademark some of the male leaders in town. As Aaron passed by, “rugged,” was his suggested alternative to the word “beast” when one older lady described Daryl, in a way that would make anyone not a part of the conversation cringe, “Beast, sexy armed beast.” But Aaron was only met with silence and weird hums until a girl replied that “sexy armed rugged,” doesn’t make any sense. To that, all the ladies agreed. As Aaron walked away, wanting nothing more with this kind of conversation about his friends, he caught the new suggestion: “Daddy,” a girl had said with the widest smile on her face— she wasn’t a teenager, but it was obviously her first time being vocal about these things. She must have felt she said something so salacious. And as much as Aaron wanted to gag, there was also a part of him that reluctantly stopped himself from laughing and blushing with the rest of the woman. One of them rolled her eyes saying, “They can’t all be daddy,” to which another girl said, “But they kind of are!” and then he was too far away to hear anymore.
Daryl didn’t get any of it.
The only ones that truly bothered him though were when they added, “I know he’s a little ugly but,” or “I know he’s not my type but,” or “I know he looks a little dirty but,” “And he never does his hair but,” “And he’s not like the smartest but,” but, but, but—
It all made him feel bad about himself; more confused.
Even when it was just generally flattering, he found it hard to take any of it as a compliment. Sometimes he would, maybe the whispers of him being “kinda hot,” on the days when he’d return to his cut-off sleeved shirts, or maybe those moments when a lady would be talking to her friend saying how he’s “handsome,” or how she just knows “he’s packing–big–” and what’s better than a big dick, right? At least that is what Daryl thought– it's the bit of Merle in him– and he bets Negan wished he had one— Daryl was pretty sure Negan’s is a tiny little bitch just like his personality. No one gets to kill one of his best friends and gets more than a three-incher. Right, J.C.? If you’re even up there? Not that Daryl would mind if you were or weren’t, or cares if you did, he wouldn’t mind– Daryl didn’t think about religion that much anymore. And on that note, he realizes that he doesn’t do a lot of the same things he used to anymore. Like the way he would walk around without a care, even confidently sometimes, not thinking about how much he swung his arms or the way he talked or the way his hair fell that day. There was this one time, as he was walking over to Rick in the garden, telling him he couldn’t find whatever particular tools Rick wanted, he yelled, “They ain’t there no more, Rick!” that he heard some older guy say to his friend that Daryl sounded like a “human gremlin,” to which the friend tried to one-up him by saying, “more like a garbage disposal.” Then another day, some girl said he looks like a “wet rat sometimes,” especially when his hair is flat or, as said in the phrase, wet; and he never forgot it, either of them or anything anyone has ever said about him. It’s always been like this. Even when he was a kid.
Daryl tries to remember that people have just gotten too comfortable now that Alexandria is back on track, at least that’s basically what you had said. One day, Daryl came into your room, huffing and throwing himself on your desk chair, saying, “Some people don’t know how to keep their mouths shut.” To which you had asked him what was wrong, but he shook his head.
“Well,” you begin, responding to his un-answer, “some gossip is misogynized. It used to be a way for women to spread information, but–” you avoid the lecture— “I get what you mean.” You look at him, seeing the way his eyes still drift. “I can’t tell you everything, but Rosita and I had heard some people speculate on the whole her and Saddiq and Gabriel thing.” You shook your head, your eyes rolling a little, “It made her upset. I could tell. But it took her a while to talk about it. I think some people forget they can talk behind closed doors now. Our porches aren’t as private as they used to be, and people have gotten mean.” To that, you both nodded in agreement and then you climbed toward the edge of your bed to hold his hand. Something was obviously wrong. “Has anyone said anything about you?”
Again, he shakes his head and you have to leave it at that— all he wanted to do was ask questions about you now, and he wouldn’t let you change the subject.
But at home, alone, he stares at the mirror, trying to see what other people see: handsome, rugged, possibly wild… but all he saw were things he didn’t l understand, things that made him feel he wasn’t good enough. Did they really think he was attractive? And if so, why did they always have to bring up that there was something completely unattractive about him before the compliment? And why were those remarks always easier to believe? Or was it all just some weird fantasy they felt dirty about having? And was being rude behind his back was some sort of justification for it? Was it all of them above? Most importantly, did you think any of this?
Next Saturday, a week after you told him you were ready, the town gathered in the church during the evening for the monthly communal meal. This was something that started during the rehabilitation of Alexandria, another thing that the population was getting too big to contain, but Rick and Judith liked it. So, Michonne agreed to keep it— for now— despite reasoning that “this is what holidays are for, Rick.”
It was about an hour in, 6pm and sunset now past. Some people who had been busy working were still filing in, little by little, but for the most part, a majority of citizens were seated, eating, and chatting. There was a steady rain outside that made everything smell fresh, and if it wasn’t for all the chatter, you could even possibly hear the light drumming on the church walls. Everyone was quite pleased about it, spring seemed to be coming early.
Daryl had not come to see you last night and left early this morning so you didn’t know where he went or what he did, but what you did know for certain is that he never carried an umbrella. Therefore, when he finally arrived, 30 minutes later, his hair was soaked, and since he didn’t even wear his jacket, the long sleeves of his shirt were drenched with water droplets sticking to his vest and shoes that sloshed and left wet footprints on the wooden floor.
Obvious to say, he was noticed by all.
There is a fine line with Daryl between not giving a fuck about how he was perceived, and caring far too much while not willing to do anything about it, and of course, with all that has happened in the past few weeks, it was the ladder. He hated being the center of attention, but it was hard for him to not be noticeable, it never was, especially now. He felt ridiculous.
As he walks onto the stage– where all the tables of food are placed– you follow him.
“Hi,” you say next to him.
“Hi,” he replies, calling you by your nickname kindly enough, but not ever looking at you.
“You know, I think Rick was hoping you were coming back on time. I don’t know why he put all that stuff on his chair if it wasn’t for you or Michonne and Michonne sat with me.”
He simply nods, humming as acknowledgment.
“Daryl,” you move to the other side of the table as he gathers his food so he can look at you. Quietly you say, “We don’t have to talk about it now, but– I hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable the other day. Or if it was about the night before, you just have to tell me.” You poke his shoulder, “You’re acting weird and you know it.”
“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” is all he grumbles.
“But I still want to say I’m sorry if I did.”
Daryl quickly finds some napkins to dry his hands and wrists with and comes over to place them on the sides of your head to kiss you there. “You ain’t got anything to be sorry about. Alright? I’m fine.” His hands drop and holds you by the neck for a moment, the movement makes some water droplets bleed onto your clothes, you feel it but you say nothing. The only thing Daryl notices from you is that your eyes look almost identical to his despite the differing color– his mood is affecting yours, but he doesn’t know what to say right now to make you feel better so he opts for something he always know is true, “You’re perfect. You know that right?” And I’m just fuckin’ weirdo, he wants to add, but he doesn’t.
You were smiling at him. He doesn’t get it. He looked like an idiot all soaking wet and you were smiling at him. There couldn’t be a better reaction, but still, it’s moments like this where he can’t believe you’re real. All you say is “Okay,” never taking a compliment, just like him, instead of finding a way to break-up with him like he always nearly suspects. “Come to me when you finish, alright? We can leave if you want?”
“Alright,” he responds and you leave him be.
As Daryl goes down the rows of tables picking out what he wants, he heads to the last one. The way the event was set up was that everyone who came early had the opportunity to take a seat at one of the four tables that were placed along each corner of the stage and the rest sat in the pews, but despite the higher vantage point the stage gave, that did not mean Daryl couldn’t hear what those around the stage were saying around him— as always. It must be a hunter’s ear or something.
“Be careful,” a woman says smirking, her eyes gesturing to Daryl. “Let’s hope he doesn’t wet us.” The friend in front of her snickers, looking back to see that Daryl is now by the table just above theirs. Whispering, the first woman continues, shaking her head, “I don’t know how Rick or the girl put up with it. She just acted like nothing was wrong. He’s mudding up the whole damn church!”
Daryl keeps his back turned. This ends up being his last straw. “How about you shut the fuck up,” he mutters.
“Excuse me?”
Louder, facing no one in particular he yells, “Why does everyone act like I don’t got ears?”
You look up, synchronized with everyone in the church and get up with Rick who is already slowly approaching him, but Michonne yanks you down.
“What is your problem?”
To that, he turns back to the woman, “How ‘bout you say what you said again and stop talking shit under your breath.”
“What?”
“I said,” he starts yelling again, “if you got somethin’ to say about me lady, say it to ma’ face. That’s what I said.”
“Hey, what’s goin’ on?” Rick asks almost warningly, but not before someone yells, “Who the fuck are you talking to, man?” from one of the aisles in the back. It was her husband, now standing from his seat. He and his wife make eye contact, and instantly he’s moving closer.
Daryl walks to the edge of the front stage, barking a quick “move” without any pause and Eugene and Siddiq violently bob their heads and grab their plates as Daryl steps on the table and jumps to the floor.
Rick tries to push him back but it’s no use, Daryl pushes him in return and he and the husband are charging at each other, speaking over each other: “What did you say to my wife?” “Told her to shut the fuck up. Thought I said it loud enough–” “Nah, man you were mumblin’ like always–” “Or d’you need me to say it louder with ma garbage disposal mouth?” Daryl pushes him, “Huh?” “I’m not fighting you, man.” But Daryl persists, getting in the man’s face, their noses almost touching. He whispers, “You know, maybe your wife’s got everyone’s name in her mouth because she don’t fuckin’ like you.” The man keeps shaking his head, but Daryl surprises him, he isn’t the only one the town gossips about. “She’s fucking Mark,” he tells him. That was true, and people knew it. “He’s your friend, ain’t he? Maybe that’s why she’s always–” But no, not him, her husband did not know, so he punches, straight in the eye. Daryl almost smiles as he takes the next swing.
The two are tussling, but not for long as Rick takes the chance to get Daryl from behind, taking him away with Gabriel’s help. “You done?” Rick asks as Gabriel holds him on the other side, His grip honestly does nothing though and Daryl shrugs him off. Poor Gabe looks like he’s about to have an aneurysm to see the church– practically his church– in such disarray.
With that, and with Daryl raging too much to contain, he shrugs Rick off and stomps out.
Michonne finally takes her hand off of your wrist and you make you way to leave too. As you walk, you look back to Rick who is already trying to follow, and wordlessly tell him that it’s your turn now, then, turn to awkwardly dodge the people still standing in the aisle and collect your things to go.
Daryl was not hard to find. It almost made you think he wanted to be found or knew you’d go after him— he’s being such a child today. Despite the town lights, you hold out your flashlight to find him sits on a tree stump on the edge of town next to one of his favorite trees. The leaves did a terrible job of covering him from anything but you knew he didn’t care. It was almost laughable honestly. Still, you take pity, he was yours and you were concerned. “I know you don’t care about getting wet,” you say with no malice or disappointment in your voice, “but all that water in your shoes can cause blisters. You didn’t even wear the ones that don’t have holes.”
He just shakes his head, as always, and water droplets fall from the tips of his hair.
“Remember when that happened to me and you drained them with needles even though Saddiq told us not to?”
He stares at you, stone-faced for a moment. “You’re the one who told me to do it.”
“Because they hurt really bad!”
“You were being a baby.”
“Really?” You ask ironically. “So if I’m the baby why are you acting like one right now? It’s been raining since morning, Daryl! Not even a jacket? You’re obviously upset about something but I’m not going to continue this with you in the rain, looking like a sad, wet puppy.”
He sneered at the comment, wet.
“Let’s just go home, okay? Let me take you.”
“We don’t live together.”
You frown. “Don’t be mean, Daryl,” you gently warn. “You know what I mean.”
You hold your hand out for him, water collecting in your palm as you wait. It was more of a gesture than actual help as you two were still a few feet away from each other. “Please? You could have already ran away on your bike or gone home and locked your door but you didn’t. I don’t know what’s going on but don’t act like I don’t know you.”
Reluctantly, he gets up, walking to you in almost slow motion. You wish you could call him the drama queen he is right now, but it was time to get out of this rain– you would hold it in for the time being.
As you enter the small place, you make no conversation. You simply get to work and he doesn’t stop you. You take off your rain jacket and boots, then you take off his vest and boots. You drag him to his room and hang up your sweater and take off your jewelry, then you empty his pant pockets. Finally, you hold his hand as he trails behind you and into the bathroom. You unbutton his shirt and unzip his pants and place them all in the hamper. He takes off his underwear and helps you take off your clothes too. When you’re done, you turn on the water and go in, he follows. You bathe and wash his hair in silence. You are tender and gentle, and he knows it, he appreciates it, but his mind is loud, and angry, and he feels so pathetic as you wash him like he’s 5 years old. You turn around to start washing yourself as he takes care of cleaning his legs and lower area. After he’s done, all he can do is look at you, your body, the soft humming you can’t help but do when you shower. It’s exactly as he said, you’re perfect. He wants to bang his head against the wall because of it.
When you two finish, you sit on his bed, wearing one of his white shirts and a pair of boxers, he wears the same except his bottoms are sweatpants. He hates these kinds of casual clothes actually, he’s only okay with wearing it sometimes, but he has nothing else at the moment. All he had to do was give his clothes to Carol to wash, but he didn’t. He hasn’t really done anything this week.
“Ms. Ellen is a bitch.” You finally say, giving him an ice pack for his eye. “And so is Mr. Gary and they both have the whiteness names in the world. And they’re both lazy as fuck and reek of nepotism because they only had one of the biggest houses and biggest egos in Alexandria because they were friends with Deanna and they’re still bitter that their house being destroyed in the fire— which I get— but it’s not okay that she uses her bitterness to talk shit about everyone. And it’s also not okay that you used your anger to fight someone who didn’t deserve it. That wasn’t like you.”
“Maybe it is. You didn’t always know me.”
“Well, sure, can act like a tough—”
“I don’t act like anything—”
“Fine, I’ll change it: Can you be a tough guy? Yeah. But do you pick fights and make big scenes in front of the kids like that? No, you don’t.” You stare at him, tapping him on the knee and forcing him to look at you. “You not talking is obviously not working, Daryl. Just tell me what’s wrong.”
He takes a moment. “I just—”
“What?”
“I don’t want to disappoint you,” he finally says lowly.
“I don’t think you could,” you answer, “I’m not even now, I’m just frustrated. Or confused really. Why do you think you would?”
He lowers his ice pack, “Cause I’m not fuckin’ Rick.”
You laugh a little. “Well, I did have my suspicions, but great, that’s good to know. I’m glad you’re not fucking Rick.”
He sucks his teeth. “Be serious.”
“Have you not realized I’ve been trying to be? For weeks now? It obviously doesn’t work.” Both of you look down as you continue, “And I finally tell you how I feel and what I want and you just leave and barely talk to me for the rest of the week. And before you even mention coming into my bed at night or saying goodnight or good morning to me and telling me what you’ll do that day, that’s not talking, it's just saying stuff. At some point I can’t always chalk it up to Oh, that’s just Daryl; at some point, a person starts thinking that they're the problem. That I’m the problem! That I’m not good enough.”
A tear falls down your cheek involuntarily, then another; you were clenching your jaw after you finished speaking but it was no use. After everything, all the bullshit and the girls and the punch to his eye that really fucking hurt even though it was his fault he got it, this is actually the worst thing that has happened to Daryl in the past months– making you cry.
“You’re more than good enough,” he says in his mumble, still not looking at you. “I’m just stupid.”
“You’re not stupid!” You yell frustratingly as you wipe tears away. “Stop talking down about yourself!”
Daryl looks off into the window. He wants to speak, he does. The words are all on the tip of his tongue but they cannot come out, they never do. As he watches you wipe away your last tears, he thinks everyone is right, that that guy is right, he has a garbage mouth, his voice is poison. He never makes any sense and he always says the wrong thing. Why speak anyway?
“I can’t help you or at least try to understand if you don’t say anything. I know it's hard— I don’t like doing it either. I was scared to tell you what I did last week. But it just starts with one thing.”
“It's too hard to.”
“But I’ve never judged you, right? ”
He shakes his head. You haven’t.
“The first thing that comes to your mind when I say, ‘what’s wrong?’, what is it? Just say it. I don’t care what it is. I’m not going to judge you, I’m not going to say you’re wrong, anything—”
“People think I’m ugly,” he interrupts, “I’ve heard them say it.”
Your eyes widen, in shock for him and in shock that people could still care about such stupid things right now. “Who said that to you?”
He shakes his head. “That’s why I mentioned Rick. No one says stuff like that about Rick.”
“Well, I don’t want you to be like Rick and you don’t have to be.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Then what is?”
He gestures to himself, slapping his hands on his thighs, “Look at me.”
There’s something about the way his hand then reaches to cover his eyes in frustration, the way he slides it down to scratch his beard, accidentally magnifying to you the wisps of salt and pepper among the brown that gives you a clue to what he means. “I’m not some little girl, and I haven’t been for a long time.”
“I know, but you’re not my age either. And I don’t always think about you when it comes to it, it’s about me- I think about me.”
“So what about it? When it comes to the hair on your head and your eyes and the way you talk— that has nothing to do with how old you are, that’s just who you are. You didn’t choose to look as you do. And you and Rick have always looked the same age if I have to mention him, and his beard is whiter than yours at this point. Neither of you look old, or bad.” Your words do nothing so far. “You also have a better build than plenty of people in town. You’re stronger too.”
“But when they talk about Rick, all they say is that he talks too much and that he’s bossy and hardass and at least that’s true.”
You couldn’t help but smile, almost laughing a bit at that. It kind of was true.
“I’ve never heard anyone say things about him the way they say about me. Never anything about how he looks. But when they talk about me— they think I’m a fuckin’ animal.” There is silence after this. The word wild lingers in his mind and animal in yours. Again you want to ask, who could say that and have they not realized all Daryl has done for this place? Then, the more you listen, the more you realize that hidden beneath those with endless respect are some with hearts of cruelty and minds stuck in the regular old world ways that don’t exist anymore. “And sometimes, when I think about why you like me, I think that maybe it’s despite other things.”
“Despite?”
“Despite.” He practically spits.
“We all have bad qualities though. We’re not perfect.”
“I mean that I’m not some regular good looking guy.”
“Why would I want regular?” Your smile fades as his sad eyes persist. “Daryl, I can’t change your mind or make you feel the way I do about you, but why can’t you trust that I like you, and that I want to be around you? And that I’m,” you blush, “very attracted to you and I’ve felt like an embarrassing teenage girl the past few months waiting and trying to get you to have sex with me!” Quietly you say, “Have you not realized how much I really want you? How much I care? Everyday I feel lucky.”
He can’t take it. “Guess it’s like you said— can’t believe it if I don’t see it myself.”
His mouth is screwed shut, his throat tight, but just like you, it’s no use, a tear rolls down his cheek. Immediately you hug him. He holds you tightly in return and even though it makes your ribs hurt a little, you let him. All of this makes you see how much you two are alike than you’ve ever realized.
“You know,” you say into his hair, “there was this one time, I was up super early and couldn’t go back to sleep so I went out for a walk. I passed by Olivia’s house and she waved me over from her window and asked me if I could help her restock the pantry before Rick came later in the day to check it because she had this huge migraine. Well, that turned into me doing the whole thing for her. She said she was going inside for a break and some water and the next thing I know she’s asleep on her couch! And you know how her niece lives with her? I guess she runs in the morning and while I was finishing up, her and her friend lean up against one of the garage doors and I hear them talking. I was just about to open the door to leave but then she says, ‘She’s sweet but kind of a kiss-ass, right? Like a try-hard?’ And then her friend goes, ‘Yeah, she really wants to be one of them,’ ‘But all she is, is just Daryl’s little girlfriend.’” Daryl lets go to face you, his eyes incredulous just as yours were when he said someone called him ugly. “And then they started saying how I insert myself into places or something, so thought if I came out right then and they see me having done Olivia’s job for her… I didn't want them to get an up-close look of them being right. So I waited until they went in the house and then I left and for the whole rest of the week I was upset because I thought I was becoming friends with those girls but really I wasn’t, and I questioned if Rick and Michonne or Rosita or Glenn and Maggie even thought of me as a friend because they actually like me or if I’m even good enough to be one or if it’s only because I’m associated to you that they care to talk to me. I felt pathetic too.” You pause. “So, I’m really sorry, Daryl. You don’t deserve to feel like you’re being picked on in the town you live in— in the place you helped create.”
“It ain’t your fault.”
“That doesn’t make a difference. I should have said something.”
“You didn’t have to. I wanted that to happen.”
“But I wish I knew. Cause I would have if I knew. I feel like I let Michonne stop me because I didn’t understand. And all I’m saying is whether I've had it as bad as you or not, I do get it. And I’m angry for you. And you don’t have to be embarrassed to tell me things like this. It was dumb of me to keep my feelings in, just like you do with everything.”
Daryl swipes his hair to the side, parts of it are dry and waving while other areas are still wet, making him think about the rat joke. “No one likes you because of me,” he says. “You’re likable because you’re you and you care. And fuck those dumb-ass girls. They’re idiots for saying that.” He rubs your thigh. “I didn’t say anything the other day because when we were in the shower the night before I,” God, he feels stupid, “I got hard and you saw it and I realized it was the first time you saw it like that before and, I don’t know, I got scared.”
“Did you think that I’d think you’re ugly?”
“I don’t know.”
“Daryl,” you tisk, “after the amount of times we’ve showered together already?”
He gets defensive, “I don’t know! Felt different.”
“People usually get excited to know their partner is excited because of them.”
“I just feel like you’re gonna be disappointed.”
“Why do you always think that? I don’t have any expectations. I just want you to show me you love me.” You begin to look nervous, “I want to feel wanted too.”
“But I do… I do want you.”
“Then show me.”
“I don’t know how.”
You try to think, “Daryl— what is it that you picture when- when you want to do it?”
“I picture you,” he says simply.
“You do?” Your face is immediately warm.
He laughs, “Of course I do.”
“Well what do I do? Or what do you do to me?”
“Depends.”
“Pick one,” you say, almost desperately.
“Sometimes it just starts with what we always do. Kissin’. Maybe you’re on top of me.”
You waste no time; you get on top of him.
“And I press you down.” Daryl’s hands are now heavy on your hips, your hands are on his chest, you rock into him slowly.
“And sometimes I think about you bouncing on me or-” he pauses, the way you rock and the way he pushes up to you hitting a perfect spot of friction that makes the both of you gasp.
“Say it,” you tell him.
“I’m fucking you from behind. Or you're on the bottom and I’m going hard or being all gentle and shit like you but I don’t know how.”
“You know we can do all that, right?”
Daryl is red. Both you and him are surprised at yourself, but his bashfulness almost brings it out of you naturally. And honestly, your jacked and grumpy dilf boyfriend has left you repressed for far too long— you’re horny.
Suddenly, you move yourself onto one of his thighs and start palming his bulge as you rock. “Do I do this in your dreams?”
He almost groans, “Now you do.”
You move yourself from his thigh and lay down to start kissing him. He reciprocates, grabbing your face and pulling you close. Daryl starts nipping at your neck and you try your hardest not to yelp so he won’t stop. As you two continue, your slick starts to wet his boxers and you press your legs together as he gets harder under his sweatpants.
“Have you ever noticed how wet I get when we kiss?”
“Only at night,” it’s hard for his words to come out as you continue palming him, “when you don’t have clothes on.”
“And you never did anything about it?” You whine. “Do you know how bad I need you? How much I think about you?”
“I think about you more.”
“You do?
“Yes.” Daryl swallows, whimpering a little. You now stroke him, his dick riding up against his thigh, and it feels too good. “What- What do I do in your dreams?”
“You lay me on the bed and put your dick in me and fuck me and it feels amazing,” you say between hot breaths. “And you’re not scared to do it.”
“I wanna do it.”
“So, please, Daryl, do it. I want it so bad.”
Daryl uses your words as courage. He takes you off of him and goes over you.
You both take off your shirts and he strips you from his boxers and him from his sweatpants.
Finally, without regret or without him turning away you see his cock stand. It’s proud, meaty, and you can’t lie, a little scary, but you’ll never tell him, even if your widening eyes give you away. It’ll fit, you assure yourself. You won’t be afraid.
“You okay?” He asks, timidity setting in again.
But you nod assuredly. “Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
You pout, he’s stalling. “When you look at me, what do you see?”
“Beautiful.”
“And you're handsome. No pretenses. No exceptions.” You come up on your knees to face him, kissing his lips softly. “It’s like we said, we’ve dreamed about this.”
You lay down again, and Daryl places his hands on your inner thighs to spread them, making space for himself. You watch as takes hold of himself, mouth agape and pumping himself a few times as he stares at your body before slowly entering you. Your pussy is drooling at the sight.
Your eyes instantly close and scrunch. Although it worries Daryl, he’s glad you’ve shut them so he can continue looking up and down— up at your face to see if you’re in pain and down as he watches his cock enter you for the first time. You were incredibly tight to him, tighter than he ever imagined, he wasn’t used to this feeling and he liked it, a lot. It made his stomach clench and all his muscles flex as his breathing gets heavier, trying to stop the possibility of him moaning at the sight of it all.
“Are you okay?��
It was big and there was something about it that felt good but it hurt, the stretch indescribable, but you nod and tell him, “I like it,” because that was true, and everything else felt like too much to explain right now, your thoughts almost dissipating.
“You sure?”
You just nod again, whining.
“Alright,” he says, putting his hands on the bed to start.
Once more your eyes screw shut. He almost takes himself out before he pushes back into you again. He doesn’t know if he went slow enough but he tried. Your eyes wrinkling because of how hard you closed them doesn’t help though. He wants to tell you to relax but he’s not even relaxed himself to even make it sound believable.
He tries again, not going so far out this time and slowly goes back in to the hilt again, so slowly in fact he thinks that must have been awkward for you. He stops, tries one more time, then stops again. Your sounds seem like you’re hurt. He knows you’ll say it’s just pain and adjustment to his size but he instantly perceives it as disgust. He knows it’s not, but he can’t help it, he can’t. He must be ‘too much’; ‘too big,’ that’s what it is. Those are things he has heard in porn tapes Merle used to give him or things he noticed in porno mags he maybe used to read that he had found in a store near Hershel’s farm all those years ago, and supposedly it was a good thing for it to be too much, but now, look at you: you were in pain. And it was taking everything in him not to ram into you. He felt pathetic, again. Stupid, again. Like he didn’t know what he was doing. Maybe he should just withdraw right now, clean you up, try to give you a sympathetic look through his hair that said he was sorry for defiling you and not even make you feel an ounce of pleasure in the process. Everyone was right, he is a joke.
“Daryl,” you say, looking up at him, “you don’t have to keep stopping for me. I just need to relax and you just need to be slow. I think I can take it.”
“I know,” he responds, kissing your forehead.
“Close your eyes,” you tell him. “Do what feels right to you. You have to trust me to tell you if it hurts or not.”
He almost laughs at that. You think he’s so strong; that he has all the power. It’s so strange to him.
Daryl puts his head in the crux of your neck, closes his eyes, and tries again. He holds your waist, thumb on your ribs and the other fingers on your back as he pushes his hips into you.
You hug his chest and feel all of it. “Make yourself feel good Daryl, it’s gonna feel so good to me if you do that, I promise.” After his 4th small pump you let out a whiny moan of relief. “Oh- okay- keep going.”
Daryl moves his elbows to the bed by your head and starts pushing his hips against you, finding a rough yet steady rhythm. He loves the slapping sound your bodies are making and can’t help but speed up. He goes deeper and you start moaning. He already feels he’s losing himself. He tries to kiss you to slow down, but realizes he can’t plow into you the same way he just found out he likes. He goes back to it and he starts grunting and groaning— there is a part of him that is embarrassed by it but it just feels so good. “Are you gonna come?” He asks between sharp thrusts.
“Don’t focus on that,” you tell him. “Stay like this. Please.”
You didn’t have to tell him twice, he really can’t think of anything anymore than continuing to pump himself in you so he does. You try your best to rock up into him, but he has full control, his hands on your hips still as tight as ever as he pushes into you, making you and the bed bounce at his mercy.
You’re more than fine with it all. Even better, you couldn’t believe this meant that Daryl was about to come inside you. Something in you knew it was about to happen. It was the way he placed his elbows by your head and started cursing and ramming into you harder and even whimpered in your ear and gave you these little puppy kisses there before getting back to it. You were surprised by how noisy he was but you didn’t dare say a word other than panting and whining back into him so he’d continue, even in moments when it felt too much and too hard. He was forgetting all his doubts and that was the goal right now. You lock your legs around his hips and tell him, “You feel amazing inside me. My handsome man,” and that does it, “Oh, fuck,” he says as he releases every last drop of himself inside you.
Now, as he slows down, he looks at you, thumb on your bottom lip and chin as he tries his best to keep rolling his hips on you as he comes down from his high, but you ask, “Will you kiss me down there, Daryl? I’ve always wanted that.”
“You don’t want me to make you come?”
“I think it’ll happen if you do it like that. I just want to know what it feels like.”
He stops for a moment deciding if this means he’s failed or not, but he simply says, “Okay,” all kindly and nodding like it was your idea even though it was because this means another one of his dreams were coming true.
Instantly, he’s licking you, feeling more assured of what he could do— this was one of his most vivid fantasies so even though he doesn’t know for sure, he thinks he’s got.
“Oh, oh my god,” his tongue is bringing up wetness to your clit and sucking on it, “that’s good.” He starts licking your clit, going fast, “Daryl, that’s so good.”
He looks up at you, dazed already, “Yeah?”
“Oh, yes.” You fix his hair and he loves the feeling. Truly, he was going a little too fast actually, going up and down and this way and that way too much, but the sounds his mouth and your pussy were making together were too glorious. You let him go, you let him be proud, and either way, you’re whining and moaning because of it. He’s perfectly imperfect and he doesn’t even know it. But you’re too in love with the feeling of him to explain what that means right now so all you say is what he told you about yourself in the church, “I think you’re just perfect.”
To that, he stops again and he looks up at you, smiling. It’s one of those rare ones he seldom does, teeth and all, and your slick coating his lips all the while. His eyes are shining, and he gives you the smallest, sweetest, most innocent kiss to the most obscene place on your body— your clit.
At this point all your sounds have been short, quiet, filled with whines but to this, you moan at the sight, full and loud. It’s involuntary. It’s pornographic. It’s the hottest thing he’s ever heard in his life. His cock stirs, springing up again as he goes back to giving you your first and forever the most slobberiest head of your life.
After a while he beckons you from below, “Hey, angel,” he calls.
“Mm,” you respond lightly. You’re nearly blissed out. He’s going to make you come.
“I think those girls were right.”
Your eyes become so cute yet so sad— you just want him on you again. “What do you mean?”
“You are sweet. Sweetest thing I’ve ever had in my life.”
“Oh,” you whisper, moaning again as he goes back to licking your clit. “Oh. Fuck.”
He starts licking and kissing your puffy lips, making wet sounds with his tongue, slurping little bits of you where he can. He loves how slick and noisy your pretty pussy is. Your clit throbs and he hums into it all dark and grumbled and husky going, “Mmmmmm.”
You tell him, “God, it’s so good, Daryl.” To which he responds, referring to a different it, “And it’s mine.”
Oh, so he’s cocky now? Well, that’s new for him. You lay back at the thought, at the feeling, reveling in delight.
Here he is, finally.
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another hottie from mixte 1963 baptiste masseline as jean pierre magnan
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ive revisited my twd era and i can’t stop thinking about daryl and his softness during intimacy.. lord happy new year
he’s always been gentle with you, that’s nothing new, but the pure vulnerability he displays as you sit in his lap, thighs on either side of his own, is something so beautiful—you don’t think a million words could capture it’s heaviness.
“‘m sorry,” he says after flinching at your fingertips feather-brushing over the scars on his back, and you can feel your heart break as you imagine the resilience your man has been forced to build over the course of his years. “do they hurt anymore?” you whisper, kissing him on his cheekbone, tenderly forging a path with your lips from his jaw to his neck. “no, not really. s’times, when i stretch weird, though,” he gruffs out as you feel his muscles relaxing beneath you.
right now, you’re pretty much just cock-warming him, humming noncommittally as he feeds you crumb after crumb of his walls’ bricks. his entrusting of you warms you, and you smile, bringing your forehead to his before kissing him square on his lips. you find yourself rolling your hips over his slowly, gasping into his mouth as he groans, grip on your thighs tightening before lovingly massaging the fat of your ass. “beautiful, really beautiful,” he says more to himself than to you, but you don’t find it any less charming. “feels good?” you laugh, allowing yourself to move ever slightly faster. “mhm, love ya, love ya, i mean it.” daryl mumbles beneath you, and you suddenly feel overwhelmed with a deep fondness for the man below you.
“i love you too, baby, so much,” you gasp out as his cock hits that tender lovespot inside of you. kissing him on the forehead, you find your hands in his hair, massaging and tugging on the chestnut tresses affectionately. beneath you, daryl’s sighing and smiling and gently groaning as you push and pull your hips eagerly into his, chasing your high. his strong arms wrap around your waist as he pulls you into him, pressing his lips to the junction of your neck and your shoulder, nosing at your jugular.
the pair of you fit together, perfectly. not like a jigsaw puzzle, but more like water and sand. bound by the salt of the sea, the testament to your love is that of your mingling sweat from working yourself onto, into him. your flesh, his hair, your bones, his heart, there was no distinction between muscle and tissue here in this moment, (you two were merely beings of soul-stuff, bodiless and one with each other) you realize as the heat in your core breaks through to the surface and wracks through you.
you think he came before you, because once you come to your senses, he’s basking in the afterglow, softening inside you.
sex with daryl was always special, but he accredits it all to you.
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AAAAAAH!! perfectly perfect
The Proposition
Summary: You've been at The Sanctuary for a while after Negan saved you. You're a virgin and more than anything you want Negan to be your first. Sick of waiting to be noticed, you go to him and tell him what you want.
Characters: Negan, the reader (OC, second person), Simon, Dwight, Regina, Laura, Gavin, etc.
AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59682937
Warnings: 18+, Swearing, Smut, unprotected p in v, female reader, no use of Y/N, praise kink, loss of virginity, daddy kink, dirty talk, ice play, reader is in their 20s, etc.
Notes: This is day 7 to go with this kinktober list. The prompts this time were bitemarks, ice play and virgin. With this fic, I was a little sick of just flat out porn so I wanted to have it be sweeter. So it has more plot. Negan is more romantic and while he's still Negan with his mouth and actions, it's a more romantic...ish kinktober fic. PS, if you're allergic to peanut butter, I have the reader eat a peanut butter cup in this so I'm sorry if that offends you.
Everything around you was loud. But then again, people were always busy at The Sanctuary. You were seated in the dining hall to yourself. So many things had been on your mind lately and you never had any time to yourself to really think things over appropriately.
Hearing a stir, your eyes lifted to the second level seeing a few of The Saviors walking out near the ledge railing. That’s when your eyes fell on him. The man that people either loved or hated. There were no gray areas it seemed. And you understood both sides. However, with you, you swayed toward the side of actually liking Negan. When The Saviors were out on one of their runs a few months ago, you had been alone. They found you in an abandoned town, trapped with next to nothing. Everyone that had been with you had died and Negan was actually the person who had saved you. So people could say a lot of things about Negan and sometimes they were probably right. But you had a different experience with Negan.
Part of you was actually a little disappointed. There were certain women at The Sanctuary that Negan would bring back and ask to be his wives. That was what he referred to them as of course. You on the other hand, you wondered if he felt bad for you. Because unlike other people, he set you up with a room. Most people had to fight for that kind of thing. Or pay with their points that they earned. Sure, you were still working for points, but Negan had given you your own little apartment that had food and water in it. You were neither a Savior nor a wife. You were just there. Interactions with Negan were also incredibly rare. You tried to stand out to Negan and when you did catch his attention, it always got your heart kickstarted inside of your chest. Something about his smile drove you wild. It was safe to say you were incredibly attracted to Negan and not just because he saved your life. Looks wise, he was gorgeous. And personality? Well, he was arrogant and apparently? You were attracted to that too.
It was just disappointing that when he found you, he didn’t have enough interest in you to make you one of his wives. You had sat with a table of women that gossiped a lot about things at The Sanctuary. There were a lot of crazy things people would talk about. Some would say he slept with the wives. Others would say that he was gay and the wives were just a front. It was a little all over the place. But one thing they brought up once was how big Negan’s manhood was. One of them had caught Negan coming out of the showers once and she couldn’t stop talking about it. Of course people thought she was full of shit because they thought someone who was as arrogant as Negan was, he had to be making up for something he was lacking. But after that conversation, you found yourself staring a lot trying to determine what was honest.
There was one thing that you figured might have been a turn off in terms of yourself if Negan really was this ladies man that some people suggested that he was. You were a virgin. You had been alone for a long time and when the world fell to shit you were pretty tame in terms of things. But now that you were at The Sanctuary, your hormones were going crazy every time you saw Negan. A big part of you wanted Negan to be your first, but the fact that you rarely got his attention as it was made it hard for you to even approach Negan.
Your throat tensed up with Negan curling his fingers around the yellow railing looking down at the people below. There was a smile that tugged at his lips with Simon whispering something in his ear and you felt your throat go dry. God, you wanted him to notice you so fucking bad, but you knew that in a group this large? It was never going to happen. And if you hadn’t been asked by Negan to be one of his wives yet, there was a strong chance that he had no interest in you.
Tapping his hands against the yellow bar, Negan nodded back toward his office and you felt disappointed. You were right. He didn’t notice you. Finishing up your meal, you headed up to the second floor. That was where your room was and considering you got your work done for the day, you figured that you would just rest for what was left of it before you had to get started again.
As you made your way to your room, you stopped when you realized that Negan’s office door was open. A few of the men and women were standing around him. They were staring down at something that was spread out across the long table. Thinking things over, you felt both a rush of anxiety and bravery flood through your veins. You wanted to talk to Negan. Badly. But then again, he was surrounded by some of his top Saviors and they might punish you for interrupting them.
Stepping closer toward Negan’s office, you realized that the sudden sense of boldness you were feeling was just stupid. So you quickly stepped back and started to head back for your room. But then again, what if you did make your intentions known? The worst thing he could do was say no. And then you could work on shutting those feelings down instead of letting them linger.
Taking slow steps back toward Negan’s office, you stopped when you got to the door. Clearing your throat, you moved into the office and knocked faintly at the opened door. Well shit. A rush of panic flooded through your veins when every single one of the Saviors lifted their heads to stare out at you in confusion. They were all waiting on you, including Negan who had one eyebrow arched in curiosity. It was then that you noticed just beyond the map that they were looking at, on the edge of the table was Negan’s bat Lucille.
“What?” Simon snapped waving his hand about when you nervously moved forward into the room.
“Can I…can I speak with Negan?” you wondered, shoving your hands into your pockets nervously.
“Anything you have to say to Negan, you can say to us,” Regina stressed to you, standing up straight and moving forward from where she had been standing beside Negan. It was then you realized that Negan’s main lieutenants and council were who was in that room with him.
“Not exactly?” you breathed out, your voice quiet and you could tell that your answer annoyed The Saviors, but it amused Negan who had his hazel eyes locked on you. Resting back in his chair, Negan clicked his tongue at the top of his mouth and it made you shrug. “It’s personal.”
“Nothing is personal in The Sanctuary,” Dwight suggested from where he was standing beside Simon who nodded. “You aren’t a Savior, you don’t deserve respect. So either you tell us what you want or get the fuck out of here.”
“Dwighty boy!” Negan’s voice boomed, letting out a tsking sound and wiggling his finger about. “Let’s be nice to the lady. I do agree that anything she has to say to me can be said in front of my Saviors, but you don’t have to be a dick.”
“Yeah. Don’t be a dick Dwight,” Simon muttered under his breath, mocking Dwight when he playfully smacked his hand upside Dwight’s head who grunted.
“So what is it?” Laura threw her hands up in the air with all of their attention on you.
“I just wanted to ask him something,” you stressed, not sure you wanted to outright say what it was that you wanted.
“Then ask,” Simon hissed having you let out a nervous breath. Silence followed. How could you say this and not be embarrassed? “Negan, come on.”
“I want to have sex with Negan,” you blurt out, just letting it escape your lips. And by the expressions on everyone’s face, you suddenly felt ridiculous for letting it slip like that.
“Well goddamn,” Negan snickered, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. A few of the other Saviors’ faces had gone pale when Negan wiggled his fingers to beckon you closer into the office. “You are not what I pictured! You are very fucking forward. I like that. I like that a lot.”
Nodding your head once, you felt like the room was spinning around you and you swallowed down hard. Standing up from where he was seated, you felt your face get hot when Negan dragged his zipper down in his pants, “So you wanna do it right here?”
Your eyes dropped to Negan’s pants and your mouth went dry. Why did that just turn you on so fucking much? Thinking things over, you lifted your stare and saw that Negan’s hazel eyes were staring out at you expectantly. Starting to unhook his belt, Negan made a dramatic expression and held his hand out.
“I can take you right here,” Negan pointed to the table, his thick eyebrows bouncing in amusement. “I don’t think The Saviors would complain much. It’s been a long time since they’ve had a good show.”
“I don’t…” you looked between all The Saviors that were there. There were those that looked uncomfortable with the idea. Such as Gavin, Laura, Dwight and a few others. And then there were those like Simon that looked like he was all in for that idea. “I don’t want to do it like that.”
“No?” Negan frowned, tipping his head from side to side when he started to pull his belt back together. Following that, he pulled his zipper back up and snorted. Dropping down into his chair again, he kicked his feet up on the table and shrugged. “You got me all excited for nothing.”
“I’m…sorry?” you exhaled loudly realizing that everyone’s eyes were still on you. “Can we please just talk alone for a minute? I swear I won’t take up much of your time.”
Silence followed. It seemed like Negan was thinking it over, his dimples sucking in when he gazed over you and shrugged, “I don’t know. Are you gonna make it worth my time?”
“Maybe?” you didn’t know what to say to that and Simon scoffed in disbelief.
“Well what if you bore me? Then it would all be a waste of time,” Negan stammered, waving his hand about in the air dramatically.
“I’ll show you my breasts?” you offered, immediately regretting it when you said it realizing that it probably sounded ridiculous. Why were you suddenly so…forward?
“Deal,” Negan snorted, circling his finger to point at The Saviors and motion for them to leave the room. “I get the feeling she doesn’t want to flash her breasts in front of the rest of you motherfuckers. So if you will, please give us a few moments. I’m not gonna turn down the chance to see a pair of titties.”
God, did he really just refer to your breasts as titties? He was immature as fuck. And yet? You were still attracted to him.
A few of The Saviors were leaving the room, but there were a few stragglers. Specifically Simon who had stopped before he left, “Why do I have to go?”
“I already made the deal Simon. And it didn’t involve you. Everyone get the hell out and close the door behind you,” Negan demanded, hooking his fingers together in his lap. Once the door closed, Negan looked to you expectantly and flashed you a big smile. “So…”
You went to step forward, but Negan made a whistling sound and shook his head. Motioning you to stay where you were, Negan dragged his tongue out across his bottom lip and hummed to himself, “You promised to show me your breasts. You go first so that way you can’t back out of it after we’ve had the conversation that you want.”
“Seriously?” you felt a rush go to your head and you felt kind of embarrassed. You weren’t exactly dressed spectacular and you didn’t even know if Negan would really make you go through with it. With a very dramatic nod, Negan’s eyelids grew heavy and he gave you an expecting glance.
Swallowing down hard, you reached for the bottom of your shirt and Negan held his finger up to stop you, “I’ll tell you when you can cover up.”
Mustering up as much confidence as you could, you started to lift the bottom of your shirt up over your abdomen. Negan’s eyes followed the movement of your shirt and when you got to your bra, you hooked your fingers into that as well. The cool chill of the air around you had you releasing a shuddering breath when you pulled the material up over your body right to the bottom of your neck.
Negan didn’t say anything. His eyes were just gazing upon you and you couldn’t tell if he liked what he saw or not. Gradually, a smile tugged at his handsome features and he tipped his head to the side, “That’s a nice pair of tits. They look good on you.”
“Thanks,” you slurred, your pulse leaping in your throat with Negan’s eyes still focused on your body.
“So you want to have sex with me, huh?” Negan questioned, his eyebrows bouncing up and for the first time, his eyes lifted from your bare breasts to connect with yours. “How old are you?”
“I’m in my twenties,” you explained wishing the room was a bit warmer because you could feel your nipples growing hard. Well, you assumed it was from the temperature of the room. But it might have been the fact you were like this in front of Negan and in a weird fashion, it was turning you on.
“Okay,” Negan replied back leaving you to wonder how long he wanted you to stand there like this. “Well your tits are definitely a pair I’d like to play with for a while. So I can’t see your offer being a bad one. My dick is hard now. Do you wanna just fuck right here?”
“Is that what you want?” your eyes lowered down toward his pants in attempts to get a look at his body. It had him snapping his fingers to get you to look back at him with him pointing toward his eyes as if it was offensive you were looking there.
“I would have happily plowed you in front of The Saviors,” Negan reminded you with a half laugh, shrugging his shoulders. “I like when a woman isn’t afraid to tell you what they want. That turns me the fuck on. I never saw you as the type, but that’s okay. I like to be fucking surprised.”
Every word out of Negan’s mouth was annunciated in a very dramatic manner. Hearing that had the room spinning around you, “Tell me what you like.”
“What I like?” you repeated feeling your face flushing over with heat. Would you tell him the truth? You were a virgin. You didn’t know what the hell you liked. Or would you lie?
“Yeah. Sexually,” Negan stammered, shrugging his shoulders when he spoke. “Do you like it rough? Do you like anal? Can I finger your asshole while I fuck you? Is your favorite position face down with your ass in the air? Do you want to be fucked so hard that my balls smack against your clit?”
Your lips parted and it made him snicker. You must have gone flush, “or are you more of a…I want to ride your cock kind of girl? It’s hard to read. Because when I found you, I thought you would be the innocent type. You seemed shy. Then you come in here asking for sex and I don’t know what to think. Do you ask every man that you want to have sex with to sleep with you like that?”
“I uh…” this was it. This was where you had to determine whether you were going to be honest with him or not. “Can I put my shirt down?”
“Not yet. Answer the question,” Negan demanded, his eyes dropping back down toward your breasts again.
“I’ve never had sex,” you answered honestly with Negan’s smile gradually fading. God, you shouldn’t have been honest with him. Forcing himself to look away from you, Negan’s response to your answer made you regret it. “I’m willing to do whatever you want though.”
“Put your shirt down,” Negan demanded and you did as you were told. Silence surrounded you both. Now Negan wouldn’t even look at you. Taking the hint, you nodded and started to head for the door, but he called out to you. “Where are you going? Take a seat.”
Glancing back over your shoulder at Negan, you saw that he was pointing toward the seat that was closest to him at the side of the long table. Obeying, you were careful in the way you slowly lowered yourself down.
“You’re a virgin?” he confirmed with you, but you didn’t know if you wanted to focus on that now since it seemed to turn him off. Well, you were doomed now. Best to be honest. Nodding once had Negan biting down on his bottom lip. “In your twenties?”
Suddenly you felt embarrassed when you looked away from Negan. You said nothing. Yeah. It wasn’t like you were a church girl or someone incredibly innocent, life just didn’t work out for you and you were more so focused on studies and working than you were having a party life.
“And you want me to take your virginity?” Negan pushed further at the subject. You still weren’t looking at him, you just nodded. “Why?”
“I like you,” you answered honestly, your confidence not as much as before with his response to your truth about being a virgin.
“Why?” he asked again. This time he was a bit firmer with his words.
“You’re good looking. I mean, anyone with eyes could see that. I’m very attracted to you,” you explained and as you spoke Negan unhurriedly pulled his legs down from the table. Each foot hit the ground hard with his boots making an echo in the empty room. “And? You saved me. You took me in. You took care of me when no one else did. I almost died and you were my hero.”
Hearing that had Negan’s hazel eyes lifting to yours and his eyes narrowed, “I don’t think you’d hurt me. And if you did? I’d be glad that it was you that it happened with because I don’t want to lose it to someone else. You’re really the first person I’ve had an interest in since the world fell to shit. I like you. A lot. And I want you to do whatever you want to me.”
“I see,” Negan leaned back into his chair and he seemed deep in contemplation. “Yeah. Okay. Tonight after I’m done doing all the shit I have to, I’ll come to your room. Around nightfall. Tomorrow? You’ll no longer be a virgin. So you won’t have that stigma hanging around your head.”
“Tonight?” you felt excited that he said yes. Giving you a small nod had you standing up from the bed. “Okay.”
“Hey,” Negan called out when you headed to the door. You knew that if it was tonight that he wanted to do it, you would have to prepare for things. Standing up from where he was seated, Negan undid the zipper of his leather jacket. Reaching for the bottom of the white shirt he was wearing, he lifted his shirt up right under his chest revealing his naked torso to you. “Since you showed me yours, I figured I would show you mine. Just to help carry you over for tonight.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at the amused expression that was over Negan’s features with his nose wrinkling. Taking a good look over his torso, you knew that you would much rather see it up close since you spotted the tattoo that covered his pectoral muscle.
“Those look good on you,” you couldn’t help but mirror what he said eliciting a snort from Negan who gave a firm nod. “I like what I see.”
“Thank you,” Negan looked down over his abdomen and then slowly lifted his head to give you a wink. “I’m proud of them. So I’m glad that you like them.”
“You can lower your shirt now,” you smirked making Negan laugh and give you a single nod.
“Yes ma’am,” Negan grumbled under his breath and it took your breath away. Lowering his shirt, Negan gave you a single wink and then dropped back down into his chair. “You can have The Saviors come back in by the way.”
“How am I going to find all of them?” you reached for the door wondering where each of them would go.
“Oh honey, they never left,” Negan stressed to you leaving you to open the door. Upon opening the door, you felt a rush of frustration flooding your veins seeing that every single one of them had been pressed up against the door or near in trying to listen in on what was happening. Everyone except for Dwight and Laura that was. Dwight was probably irritated and Laura was just trying to give you your space.
“Nice,” you growled under your breath, pushing through them to get out of the office. Why weren’t you surprised at all by that?
A mixture of fear and excitement flooded through your veins. You really didn’t have anything spectacular in terms of clothes, so you spent the points you did have to get a really nice set of lingerie for Negan that you hoped he’d like. The colors you had focused on were red and black, but ultimately went with the black since that’s what Negan put his wives in. You’d have to not eat very well for the next few days, but you wanted to make him happy. You had also grabbed a pair of leather cuffs. The person you got them from probably thought you were a bit of a freak, but with what you heard about Negan? You wanted to be prepared and give him what he wanted. You wanted to make a good impression. You showered, used the perfume that you still had from your personal items when you came here and then put on the lingerie.
At nightfall, you waited, laid stretched out on the bed waiting for Negan. Again, you wanted to be sexy for Negan. Give him a reason to appreciate you and not regret agreeing to this whole thing. It was a while after nightfall by the time you heard a knock at your door. You had gotten nervous that he didn’t want to do this whole thing after he considered it.
Curling your arms behind your head, you cleared your throat and did your best to pose sexy as you beckoned him into your room. As the door opened, Negan’s expression became more so amused when he entered your bedroom seeing the way you were.
“Wow,” he snickered, closing the door behind him and tipping his head to the side. “Did you have that?”
“I bought it today for you with the points that I earned,” you explained arching your back up attempting to bring attention to your breasts. “Do you like it?”
“I do,” Negan muttered, sucking on his bottom lip and moving to the bottom of the bed. Gazing you over, he looked beside the bed and saw the leather cuffs that were sitting on the nightstand. “What are those?”
“I got those too,” you pulled yourself up unhurriedly into a seated position. Reaching for the cuffs, you handed them to Negan who accepted them and looked them over with a smirk. “People gossip and say things, you know? So I figured you’d like those.”
“People gossip?” Negan repeated, sitting down on the edge of the bed spinning the handcuffs around his finger. Sliding in closer to Negan, you started to caress at his shoulders eliciting a heavy exhale to fall from his lips. “What do the people say?”
“It depends on who you ask,” you responded, doing your best to get Negan to relax. Depositing a kiss over the side of his neck had a sharp exhale falling from his lips. Dragging your hands across his chest had him leaning further back into you. Using that moment, you pushed your hands down over his abdomen and he groaned out. Fuck, that was actually really hot. “Someone mentioned you being really…big.”
Brazenly, you dropped your hand to the center of Negan’s pants palming in over his pants. It had a raspy moan following and it had chills running down your spine that you could draw something that sexy out of a man you were this attracted to.
Surprise filled your body with Negan’s fingers wrapping around your wrist to stop you from touching him, “Does a big dick really matter to a virgin?”
Negan looked over his shoulder to connect his eyes with yours and you shrugged, “I imagine it feels better.”
“You’re a virgin. I hate to break it to you, but it will hurt the first time a cock goes inside of you. Whether it’s big or average sized. Depending on the person you’re with, it’s either gonna hurt a lot or it’s gonna be uncomfortable until you start to get used to it and it feels good. You’re gonna need someone to relax you. Prepare you and it feels like you just want me to fuck the shit outta you.”
Standing up from the bed, Negan shoved his hands into his pockets after tossing the cuffs onto the bed, “Where in the porn hub loving instructional guide did you come up with this stuff?”
A laugh fell from Negan’s throat and you felt embarrassed again. You didn’t know whether you should cover up or not as you slid back on the bed, “Now don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the lingerie, but whatever you spent on this I’ll make sure they give you back the points. Losing your virginity shouldn’t be about making me happy. It should be about making you comfortable and giving you an experience that isn’t a terrible one. Having me cuff you and fuck you raw is not gonna be the optimal experience. It may be on porn hub or in those racy romance novels, but it’s not realistic. Is that what you really think I’m like?”
“Can you blame me after the way you talked earlier?” you reminded him of how he talked to you before you revealed to him that you were a virgin. “You sounded like someone right out of a porno asking me what I liked.”
“Well that’s when I thought you were a little slutty,” Negan defended himself, placing his hand over the center of his chest. “But you’re not. Not that I would have a problem with anyone being slutty. I mean, I have no right to judge. Slutty can be sexy, but you’re also sexy the way that you are.”
“I’m confused,” you announced, your heart racing at the idea of what he was saying. “So do you want to have sex or not?”
“Just put your clothes on,” Negan ordered, spinning his finger around in a circle. It had you confused and somewhat disappointed. “We’re still gonna have sex, but not like this. Not like something right out of a porno.”
Getting up, you headed over toward your dresser, but Negan cleared his throat, “You can leave the lingerie on underneath though. I do…I do actually really like those.”
Well at least that was a success. Getting dressed in a sundress that you had, you wanted to make sure that you were wearing as little as possible for Negan to take off when the time came. Holding his hand out for you as you approached, you accepted Negan’s hand and were surprised by his actions. This was not the man that the women gossiped about in The Sanctuary. Chivalry actually existed in some fashion with Negan.
Leading you out of your room, Negan led you to the stairs at The Sanctuary which surprised you since you knew that Negan’s room was on the same level as yours. Following Negan carefully up the steps, you wanted to ask questions, but you didn’t. Once he reached the roof, Negan pushed open the door to reveal that there was a bonfire that he had set up with two chairs not too far away from it.
“A night out under the stars?” you looked to Negan who flashed you a big cheesy smile while he held the door open for you.
“After you my dear,” Negan growled, holding his hand out and motioning you toward the area that was set up. Once he closed the door behind him, Negan held his hand out to you leading you over toward the area to sit down. He made sure you sat first before taking a seat beside you. “It’s a little chilly, but the sky is full of stars and I thought maybe you would want to talk first.”
“Suddenly I regret wearing this dress,” you confessed with a tiny laugh and it had Negan looking you over. There was a chill in the air and if you would have known you may have grabbed a longer shirt to throw over the dress. Getting up from his seat, Negan started to shimmy out of his leather jacket and you immediately shook your head when he motioned you to stand up. “No, I couldn’t…”
“You can and you will,” Negan commented firmly. By the expression on his face, you knew what he wanted, so you gave it to him. Accepting the gesture, you allowed him to help you put the jacket on you before lowering down. Negan waited for you to sit before he sat himself. Pulling the jacket in closer to you, you actually enjoyed the way that it smelled because it smelled clean and fresh. Also the scent of whatever cologne he wore was lingering over the jacket and it was amazing. You hadn’t really been this up close and personal to Negan to be able to smell him before. “Better?”
“Much,” you nodded your head with Negan leaning back and looking up toward the sky. “You’re not what I thought you were.”
“I’m probably exactly who you think I am, but there are just other parts to me that people don’t take the time to know,” Negan huffed, dropping his head dramatically and turning it to look at you. “I know it’s my own fault, but I’m not the kind of guy that finds out someone is a virgin and then I fucking destroy their pussy so they never enjoy sex again.”
It made you smile to hear Negan talking like that, “I am curious what people say about me though. Who are you hearing stuff from?”
“Women gossip,” you explained, sliding your chair in closer to the fire. You weren’t going to give out names, but then again, you really didn’t know their names. “I’ve heard people say you are this sex fiend that will fuck anything and everything that moves. That your wives are your sex slaves that you come and grab whenever you’re horny and want to fuck.”
A deep rumble of a laugh fell from Negan’s throat, his fingers grasping tightly to the edges of the chair that he was seated in, “They are a status symbol.”
“Come again,” you exhaled loudly with Negan’s eyebrows bouncing up.
“I don’t have sex with them. I mean, I’ve had sex with a few of them, but it wasn’t the whole you’re my sex slave and I’m coming to pick you today thing you just said,” Negan waved his hand about, shrugging his shoulders as he spoke. “I’m okay with people thinking that though. When you think of a man in power, a king, all of them had lots of wives. It’s a status symbol. People look up to you and admire you. Want to be like you. So they listen, get into line having hopes of being like you one day if you take them under your wing.”
“Oh,” you breathed out, surprised to hear him talking like that. “That’s kind of lame, you know that right?”
“I’m a man, I’m kind of lame,” Negan stressed with a rumbling laugh, shaking his head when he reached out for one of the things that was set up beside his chair.
“Which ones?” you wondered getting Negan to look back at you. “Which ones have you slept with?”
“You really wanna know that?” Negan stammered, the bridge of his nose wrinkling. When you nodded, he sat back and you realized that he had the ingredients to make smores in his hands. “Well, before I was here, I was in a group of people. Dwight and Sherry were part of that group. And the two of us had an affair. Although, sex with her lately is not really a thing. She’s hot, but her attitude sucks. I think she likes having the power that comes with being a wife. And I let her have it. I don’t really know why. And then I had sex with Frankie. Before she was a wife, I was really into the whole she was a massage therapist thing. I wanted a massage, an innocent one at first and she just kind of crawled on top of me and…”
“I can picture the rest,” you held your hand up to stop him and it made Negan snort. “Then why are you so…I don’t know? Protective and dickish about them? People think you abuse them. Rape them by coercion.”
“You can’t rape someone if you aren’t fucking them,” Negan responded an annoyed breath escaping his throat. “I don’t rape people. If someone doesn’t want to have sex with me, they don’t. When I ask these women to be my wives, I’m giving them special treatment. They receive things that most people don’t. They don’t have to work for it. They don’t have to fuck me. They just have to sit there and look pretty. Do what I ask. No one is hurting them. I’ve never laid a finger on them. And I’m certainly not fucking them against their will. Tonya, I have an appreciation for a professional chef. Amber, she wanted favors and you know that people would find a girl like Amber beautiful. Frankie, my back is shit. There is a trait each one of them has that I appreciate having in my back pocket and it’s not their lady bits.”
“I see,” you watched while Negan put together a smore. You saw him unwrapping a peanut butter cup and he went to put it on the smore before thinking twice.
“Are you allergic?” Negan inquired, pointing to it. Shaking your head had him letting out a thankful breath before continuing to put together his version of a smore. “Don’t go telling people that I’m not as bad as I seem, okay?”
“Deal,” you snickered, watching as he worked to roast the marshmallow over the fire. “Why didn’t you make me one of your wives?”
“Sorry?” Negan didn’t seem to be too focused on what you were asking working to put together a smore. Handing it out to you, he gave you another big smile as you accepted it from him. With the melted marshmallow over his fingers, he sucked at the tips of them and sighed.
“Why didn’t you make me one of your wives?” you repeated your question and it seemed to make Negan nervous when he started to construct his smore. “Am I not appealing to you?”
“I can find something attractive in pretty much anyone, I’m not particular,” Negan informed you with a long exhale, his eyes gazing over you in a moment of longing. “But I do find you very attractive. So it has nothing to do with that.”
“Then what did it have to do with?” you inquired since you had felt kind of worried about the whole thing to begin with.
“I like you,” Negan answered, his lips parting after he started to roast his marshmallow. “I don’t often get to be someone’s hero. The way you looked at me when I brought you here? It’s been a long time since someone looked at me in a positive light. I think I’m helping people here, but you? I actually did protect you. I kept you safe. You wouldn’t look at me like that anymore if I made you one of the wives. The less you knew about me, the better because the more you knew me the higher the chance that you might start to hate me.”
That took your breath away. In that moment you wanted to do nothing more than to kiss him. Grasping at Negan’s jaw, you pulled him in toward you and brought your lips together. Your quickness surprised him, but he didn’t turn away the kiss. No, he was welcoming to it. Leaning in closer to you over the arm of the chair. You let it linger with Negan turning it into small kisses at your bottom lip.
As you separated, Negan dragged his thumb across your bottom lip with a hum, “I don’t want the way you look at me to change.”
“It won’t,” you hushed him, turning in to press a kiss over his pulse point.
“You can’t promise that,” Negan stated with a frown, using his free hand to sweep his fingers down over your jawline. “I’m not a good man. I will let you down. The further you’re away from me, the better.”
“I’d rather be let down than to never share moments with you,” you explained with a sigh, closing your eyes at the sensation of his rough fingertips tracing over your features. Another sweet, delicate kiss was pressed at your lips before Negan sat back in his chair again. Taking a bite of your smores, you hummed and gave a nod. “I like the addition of the peanut butter cups.”
“I really like peanut butter,” Negan confessed taking a big bite of his sweet treat that he had made for himself. “I’m sorry for making you flash me your tits earlier.”
“I offered,” you couldn’t help but laugh, finishing off your snack with Negan chuckling underneath his breath. “Plus, you flashed me your tits so I think we’re equal.”
“It’s not the same,” Negan insisted with an amused rumble, outstretching his hand to loosely hook his fingers with yours. “I liked that it made you smile though.”
The two of you continued to talk about random odds and ends with Negan getting to learn more about you before you both agreed to leave. Negan didn’t say much as he led you down the stairs. When you passed your room, you knew that Negan was leading you to his bedroom and that excited you. Pushing open the door, Negan looked inside as if to make sure something was right before allowing you in.
Stepping into his bedroom took your breath away. The only light that filtered through the room was that of many candles that had been lit. At the center of the bed were a rose pedals and there was a bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket on the nightstand.
“You slammed me for my porn hub fantasy, but this is something right out of a cheesy romance film,” you commented, sucking in a sharp breath of air with Negan moving in behind you to place his hands in over your hips. The roughness of his short beard tickled at the side of your neck with his lips descending over your flesh.
“Shut up, you fucking love it,” Negan chuckled against your neck and it sent chills down your spine. “Losing your virginity like this is so much better than what you thought you needed to do.”
“Unless we burn down the place,” you teased, turning in Negan’s arms to tip up on your toes to meet him in a passionate sweep that had you purring against his perfect lips. Pushing his fingers up underneath his leather jacket, Negan let it drop at your feet. Palming down over your arms, Negan took his time to trace over your body having you a shuddering mess by the time his hands met yours to hook your fingers together.
Pulling you close, Negan allowed your head to rest at the center of his chest where you listened to the sound of his steady heartbeat. Closing your eyes, you enjoyed the way it sounded. It made you feel comfortable and in his arms you felt safe.
Soft strokes of Negan’s fingers were felt at the back of your head before tracing down over the lengths of your back. He was doing what he could to soothe and comfort you. Locking his eyes with yours, Negan started to work your dress up over your body. Helping him get it off, you felt your body tremoring once you were standing before him in your lingerie again.
Taking the initiative, you shakily reached out to grab the bottom of Negan’s white t-shirt. Raising it up his body, you stopped when you reached his arms and he gave you a weak smile. Lifting his arms up, he helped you get the perfectly clean shirt from his body where you dropped it beside your dress. Closing the distance, you flattened your palms out over the center of Negan’s chest. Sliding them out toward his shoulders had his long eyelashes fluttering to a close. This gave you time to appreciate his body and actually get to look at it. Tracing over the tattoo that was on his pectoral muscle, you couldn’t help but be in awe of his body. You actually appreciated the hidden tattoos that you didn’t know were there originally.
“I’m not the typical romance novel lover,” Negan informed you with a bob of his head and you smirked. Dragging your fingers through the dark curls of hair that covered his chest down lower toward his navel and back again had his breathing growing loud.
“You’re my perfect version,” you assured him, sweeping your fingers over the soft fleshy part of his abdomen just beneath his bellybutton.
“You take my breath away,” Negan reached for your hand to bring it up over the center of his chest. Grasping it tightly, Negan closed the distance between the two of you and swallowed down hard. Bringing your lips together again, you parted your lips allowing his tongue to brush in against yours. The taste of the sweet snack lingered and it made you hum.
“You taste sweet,” you muttered against his lips which made him smile. Working your hands down, you started to pull apart the belt in Negan’s pants. Not rushing, you knew you wanted to drag this out. Negan wanted the same thing. By the time you got his pants undone, you slid your fingers up over Negan’s lower abdomen toward his sides and then came to a stop at his lower back. Pushing into the material had it falling to his ankles. Sliding your palms over his small bottom had him groaning out with you grasping firmly to it.
“Come here,” Negan growled, hooking his arms around you to have you falling in against his chest. Sliding his hands down over your back toward your bottom, he did a similar movement as you, testing the flesh in his large palms. “We match.”
Stealing a glance between the two of you, you noticed from the light that was there that he was wearing black boxer briefs. Giving him a nod, you began to press kisses over his jawline, down over his neck and toward the center of his chest.
“No,” Negan slurred, reaching for you and carefully urging you back up to him. Managing to kick out of his boots and swiftly pull off his socks, Negan led you over toward the bed and lowered you down at the center of it. “I want this to be perfect for you. There is not a lot of that in the world anymore.”
“Perfect is having you Negan,” you stressed to him how you felt and it genuinely made him smile. Not an arrogant smile like you were used to. One that expressed a sense of feeling good about himself.
“Do you want any champagne?” Negan wondered eliciting a giggle from you as he crawled in over you. “What?”
“Not now. I just want you,” you explained, caressing up over his chest toward his shoulders to hook your hands behind his neck. It drew him to you with you stealing a desperate kiss from his lips. Carefully laying in beside you, Negan continued to kiss you with his fingers caressing up over your thigh.
For a while the two of you just kissed. Getting used to one another. And you liked it. Even if this was all you got today, you didn’t think you would be disappointed. The way that Negan touched you and made you feel like the center of his world was phenomenal. It’s not what you expected from Negan, but you were happy with this surprise.
“You are so fucking beautiful,” Negan breathed against your lips, his fingers trailing up from your navel up between the valley of your breasts. Hovering his lips over yours, Negan smiled and urged you to lift up slightly so he could reach around you to unhook your bra. As soon as the material parted, you lowered back down to the bed letting Negan tug at the material. Getting it down your arms, he dropped it beside the bed and then gave you a smile. Unhurriedly, he slid his palm across the underside of your breasts. Cupping softly at one of them, Negan kissed faintly at your bottom lip and hummed. When his thumb ran across your nipple, you arched up into his touch. The sensation swept circles around it bringing it to a hard nub. Chills ran down your spine, your lips parted and a whimpering sound escaped your throat. “Are you okay?”
Giving Negan a nod, you knew that you were nervous, but you didn’t need to tell him that. Lowering down, Negan started to pepper kisses at your jawline, down over your neck and toward your collarbone. Chills flooded through your body, soft pants escaping you while you caressed at the back of Negan’s head. Moving in over you, Negan braced his weight to keep you comfortable as he started to press kisses between your breasts. Kissing everywhere had you arching up toward him and by the time his mouth covered your breast you moaned out. Glancing up at you with his hazel eyes, Negan made sure you were comfortable while his mouth and tongue pampered that breast before moving to the other.
Stroking down over Negan’s long back and then back up again, you were in total awe of Negan. It seemed like he was enjoying himself while he pampered your breasts with kisses. With a final slurping sound, Negan lifted his head and his eyes looked beyond you to the bucket of ice that was holding the champagne. Reaching out, he grabbed a piece of ice and you gasped when a few drops of the water covered your flesh.
“Cold?” he smirked, the bridge of his nose wrinkling when you gave a nod. Sucking in a sharp breath, you prepared yourself when Negan brought down his hand to lightly trace shapes over your flesh with the piece of ice he was holding. Keeping his eyes hooked on yours, Negan traced the ice over your nipple having you cry out with the sensation. A wolfish smile tugged at his lips when he pulled the ice away. Covering your breast with his mouth allowed a vast contrast between the cold and the warmth of his tongue. Slurping at your flesh, Negan repeated the motion on your other breast having you a whimpering mess beneath him. Nipping at your skin, Negan hummed and started to trace shapes down over your ribcage toward your belly button. “Good girl.”
Trembling beneath Negan, your lips parted with Negan returning what was left of the ice. Placing his hand back over your lower abdomen, Negan kept his eyes locked on yours when he started to push it down between your thighs. Your lips parted, a small whimper escaping you when he fully palmed in over your warmth.
Dropping your head to watch him caressing at your body had your heart hammering inside of your chest, but Negan hushed you and urged you to look back to him, “I want you to keep looking at me. Don’t watch that.”
So you obeyed. You locked your eyes with his, a gasp escaping you when he lifted his hand for a moment to press his fingers beneath your black panties that you had specifically worn for him. The direct contact of his rough fingertips with your sensitive flesh had your hips arching up toward him. There was something about the way that Negan looked at you that made you feel like the only person in the world in that moment and you loved the feelings it brought forth from inside of you.
“If you ever get uncomfortable at any point tonight, just let me know and we’ll stop,” Negan instructed, his fingers tracing slowly up over the lengths of your sex and it had you cooing out. Nodding, you knew that you weren’t going to be asking him to stop regardless of how things went tonight. You wanted this and you wanted this bad. Nothing was going to stop you from having it. Getting up to his knees, Negan hooked his fingers into your panties, unhurriedly tugging them down your body. Even then, he never took his eyes off yours wanting to watch your every reaction to things. Dropping your panties beside the bed, Negan returned to caress at your calf muscle up toward your thigh. “You’re fucking perfect. Y’know that?”
“I’m happy with anything as long as I’m yours,” you knew that sounded probably very dramatic, but you didn’t care. Plus, he seemed to enjoy the answer you gave him when he lowered back closer to you to steal another lingering, passionate kiss from your lips that progressed into a dominant one with his tongue brushing against yours.
“Can I kiss you somewhere else?” Negan slurred against your flesh. The question alone made you shake and you gave him another nod. Peppering kisses over your body again, he started at the side of your neck, over your chest and toward your lower abdomen. This time he went beyond down over your hip, toward your thigh and near the inside of your knee while he pushed at your thighs to give himself enough room to lower down onto his stomach. With him so close to the most personal parts of your body, you felt nervous. This was everything you wanted and more, but this was definitely a first for you. “Just relax. I’m a professional.”
The smile Negan gave you took your breath away with him urging your thighs up. He lowered himself between them. Wet kisses started at the inside of your thigh and he was slow to progress them toward your sex. With the first drag of his tongue across your folds, it had you shaking. Occasionally Negan would lift his eyes to watch your reaction to things as he would drag his tongue up and then down. Repeating the movements until his lips latched faintly to your clit suckling at the flesh.
“Negan,” you purred out his name, your hand lowering to brush your fingers through his hair. Humming out against your body, Negan’s tongue circled your sensitive bundle of nerves and it had your heart hammering inside of your chest. Biting down on your bottom lip, you couldn’t take your eyes off him while he pleasured you. The short stubble of his beard added to the friction against your flesh and you were addicted to the feeling. Involuntarily, your hips rocked against him very much enjoying the way it felt having him kissing, suckling and licking at your flesh.
“Good?” Negan leaned back with a wet sound, dragging his tongue out across his lips releasing a moan himself at the way you tasted. You couldn’t form words. That was pretty much impossible, so you gave him another nod. It made him smile before lowering back down to continue what he was doing. The amount of pressure he was using with his mouth had your heart hammering inside of your chest and you dropped your head back. Your thighs were shaking against Negan and you felt him reaching for your hands to hook his fingers with yours. Moaning out, your eyes slammed shut. The sound of Negan groaning against your flesh added to the sensation with you shaking further against him. Squeezing tighter at Negan’s fingers, you couldn’t believe how good it actually felt. “That’s it.”
Lifting your head, your breathing was broken with the room spinning around you. Negan had just brought you to your first orgasm and it was incredible. Breath taking. But he wasn’t done. His right hand pulled from yours, his fingers tracing lines from your entrance to your clit before back again. Teasing his fingertips at your entrance, Negan lifted his eyes up to watch you when his index finger sank into you. Just like everything else, this was slow drawing you to coo out and moan out his name. His eyelids grew heavy with want, his lips parting and a muscle flexing in his jaw with how tight you were from this alone. Starting off slow, he started to finger you watching your every reaction to it. Whining out when he added a second finger made him moan before he lowered his head again to start suckling at your clit to add to the sensation of him fingering you.
Flicks of his tongue had your hips rocking against him and the steady pace of his fingers thrusting into you felt like nothing you had ever experienced before. This was amazing and you loved every bit of it. The sounds he was drawing out from within you were loud and seemed to make him moan against your sensitive flesh while he pleasured you. You didn’t know if you should be embarrassed from how loud you were being, but he didn’t seem to mind.
There was a certain spot inside of you that as soon as Negan kept caressing at it with his fingertips, it had you a shaking mess beneath him. Once you started reacting a certain way? Negan picked up on it immediately and continued at the same tempo he had set with his fingers. Switching between suckling and licking at your clit.
“Negan, I feel like I’m going to…” before you could say anything else, your hips shakily pulled up and away from him. Groaning out, Negan still kept his fingers wrapped around your thighs while you tremored against him. Your heart felt like it was about to pound right out of your chest. It was the closest you felt to passing out with your thighs tremoring. “I am so sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Negan snickered, trailing kisses up over your inner thigh and toward your hip when he crawled back in over you. “That’s supposed to happen. It’s a sign of a job well done. Not every man can make you do that and not every woman has that kind of orgasm.”
“Fuck,” you lifted your head to look between the two of you trying to catch your breath. “That was amazing.”
“I know,” Negan nipped at your jawline, leaving tiny bites along your flesh. Grabbing a faint hold of your neck, Negan tipped your head back and it made you wince. The next bite he placed over your neck would leave a mark but you didn’t care considering you wanted to be his. And if you had something that proved it? Even better.
“I want you,” you panted with him tipping his head back to stare out at you. “I’ve never wanted something more.”
Lazily getting up to his knees, Negan held his hands out in the air and it made your throat go dry. His breathing was strong, showing the lines of his abdomen. Your attention fell to the v-line over his hips that led to the top of his black boxer briefs and it made your mouth water at the sight of him.
“Then have me,” Negan offered, his hazel eyes watching you closely when you lifted up on your hands. It was hard because you were still shaking pretty much everywhere. Caressing up over his sides, you started to pepper kisses at his lower abdomen appreciating that he stroked at the back of your head while you kissed over his slender form. Curling your fingers into the waistband of his boxer briefs, you pulled softly at it. Not wanting to rush, your lips followed the movement of the material down over his body which had him moaning out. When you reached the base of his cock, you tipped your head back and stared up at him. With his free hand, he dragged his thumb across your bottom lip. Giving a final tug had his boxer briefs pulling to his thighs with his erection bouncing free from behind the constrictive material.
“Fuck,” you leaned further back to gaze over Negan’s length, stealing a look up at him. “I thought you said you were average, not big.”
“I never said that,” Negan slurred, dropping his free hand to stroke at his rigid length letting out a tense breath. “I said it didn’t make sense for you to want to have a big dick for your first time. I thought that might have been the only reason you picked me. Now I know otherwise. Don’t let it scare you. I wouldn’t hurt you. It’s above average, but I know what I’m doing.”
Shakily reaching out, your hand replaced his to stroke at his member in slow, unhurried movements. It had his head dropping back, the vein at the side of his neck slightly bulging and you smiled, “It’s thick.”
“I know,” Negan commented, lowering his head back down to sweep his thumb over your jawline. There was an amused expression over his features when a big, toothy smile pressed in over his lips. Taking initiative, you got up on your knees and heard his breathing grow uneven. At first, you pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses at his hips until bringing your lips to the base of Negan’s cock to start there. Peppering kisses down the length of his shaft toward the tip had him bouncing his hips forward toward you. “You’re just jumping in?”
“You’ll let me know if you don’t like something,” you breathed against his sensitive flesh having him shake against you with the way your words vibrated against his cock. Flattening your tongue out against his flesh, you licked at his body like he was your own personal lollipop and his moans were glorious. You traced at the prominent veins, circled the ridges over the tip and started to kiss at the underside where the head and the shaft met.
“That’s good,” Negan groaned, his fingers cradling the back of your head when you dropped your head back to look up at him. “Are you okay with this?”
“Very much so,” you whispered licking your lips when Negan firmly curled his fingers around his girthy length to bring the tip to your wet lips. First, you started to kiss at the tip eliciting the tiniest of moans from Negan’s throat, but you loved the way it sounded. Each caress of your mouth over his manhood grew wetter until you finally took him between your lips. Lapping at the tip had him sucking in sharp breaths of air, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat.
“Fuck,” he hissed out allowing you to take your time with things since this was all new for you. Once you started to lower your head down taking his length further into your mouth, he helped aid your movements. They were slow at first. Wanting to experience this in the best of ways, you did what seemed to have Negan moaning out. Those were what had this whole thing worth it. You had the leader of The Sanctuary in the palm of your hand dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock when you’d pull your head back before dropping forward again. Wet sounds filled the air with you pleasuring him, leaving you thankful that he was there to help your movements. “Okay…you have to stop…”
With a wet popping sound he had you pull your mouth from him. Negan was panting, his head shaking when he started to wiggle out of the material of his boxer briefs. Kicking out of them, Negan gave you a look with your lips wet and your eyes full of lust and want, “I’m going to come if you keep giving me a blowjob and who knows if I can make this good for you.”
Nodding your head, you allowed him to lead you back against the bed with a nervous sound when Negan moved in over you. Looking between the two of you, you stole another look at Negan’s cock and it made you breathless, “Don’t overthink it.”
Dropping his hand between your thighs again, you felt his fingers pushing back inside of you working to have you relax. Hovering his lips over yours, Negan wanted to make sure that you were focused on him and not the act.
“You’re so wet that we aren’t going to have a problem,” he insisted pulling his fingers from your body. Mewling out at the loss of contact, Negan brought his fingers up to lick at the tips of them before starting to stroke at his cock again. The warmth of his body pressed against yours felt amazing. You could hardly catch your breath with Negan’s eyes locked on yours. “Just let me know if you want me to stop.”
Bracing his weight on his left hand, Negan pressed his forehead to yours. Pressing his hips forward, he led his tip to your entrance and it had you sucking in a sharp breath of air, “It’s not going to feel great at first, but I’ll take my time, okay? I know it’s thick, so we’re not gonna rush it.”
The tip was nestled at your entrance with Negan holding back as much as he could from just going forward with everything. Pushing forward, Negan focused on you when the bulbous tip pressed at your tight hole. It had your lips parting, your eyebrows tensing and when he did get the tip in the both of you moaned in unison. Looking for your hand, Negan hooked his fingers with yours and pressed it to the bed keeping his weight braced on his left arm. Watching so intensely had Negan swallowing down hard when he slowly moved a little more allowing you to take more of him.
The sensation was new, slightly uncomfortable with the fullness that you were feeling as he pushed forward just a small bit more, “Negan…”
“It’s okay,” he hushed you, hovering his lips over yours. The lines in his forehead growing when he stole a quick look between you but forced himself to look up. “Fucking fuck…”
“Please,” you whined wondering if the agonizingly slow movements were really delaying the inevitable. Giving you a nod, he rolled his hips in closer to you sinking a significant amount of himself into your sex. Your tight walls clung to him and a raspy moan escaped his lips. Holding tightly to Negan, you buried your nose against the side of his neck and kissed there. Right now it really was just a full, stretching feeling, but knowing that it was Negan inside of you made it worth the slight amount of pain. “It’s okay.”
“Yeah?” Negan tipped his head back, wanting to keep his eyes on yours when he filled you completely. It had your head tipping back into the pillows and he shakily released your hand. Palming in over the side of your face, Negan laid over you and you noticed that he seemed incredibly focused as well. With a moan, his long eyelashes fluttered to a close and he cussed under his breath. “I’m trying so hard to make this perfect for you.”
“It is,” you assured him, brushing your fingers through his dark hair appreciating that he was focused solely on you.
“You’re so fucking tight and I don’t…” Negan pressed his forehead to yours, stroking his thumb over your jawline. Gathering himself, Negan brought your lips together in a lingering kiss that had you eagerly meeting him. Each caress had you relaxing beneath him and when his hips pulled back, you were almost worried that he was going to leave, but you whimpered when he slowly pushed his hips back up toward you. It had you clinging to him, hooking your arms around his shoulders. It seemed like he wanted to desperately keep kissing you through this, his hips gradually building speed with every thrust he made inside of you. Your nails bit at his shoulders having him dropping his head back, his eyes closing tightly when he moaned. “Fuck. You feel so fucking good.”
Leading him back to your mouth, the two of you kissed with winces starting to fall from your lips when the strength of his thrusts started to grow. Pressing his right hand between the two of you, Negan’s fingers connected with your clit caressing at your body in tempo with his thrusts. That extra added stimulation had you moaning out against his lips. That was when things started to feel better. You still felt full, but it started feeling exceedingly better with your hips arching up to meet every single one of his thrusts. Whimpering against his lips, you started to feel a fire burning at your belly but Negan was quick to cover your mouth with kisses again.
“Negan,” you whined noticing that you were starting to tremor beneath him. Smacking up harder against you, every plunge of Negan’s cock into your warmth had you crying out at the side of his neck. Kissing at his neck, you gasped when you clung to Negan as he undoubtedly got you to another orgasm. Pausing his movements, Negan’s moans were raspy with your tight walls contracting and relaxing around his body. Pulling his hips back and away from you allowed his cock to pull from you fully for the first time and you whimpered. It didn’t feel right not having him inside of you, but Negan laid in beside you helping you turn to face him. Bringing your bodies closer together, your legs tangled to. Negan’s hands settled at your sides helping to bring your thigh up over his hip.
“You feel okay?” Negan confirmed with you, his left hand sliding up over your side toward your neck to get you to look at him.
With a smile you nodded, reaching between you to curl your fingers loosely around Negan’s girthy length to stroke at it. Lifting your hips enough, you led his cock to your entrance again lowering them once you felt comfortable enough. A muscle in Negan’s jaw flexed, his lips parting to release a moan when you took him into you with a fluid movement.
Wrapping your arm around his shoulders, you cried out with him kissing at the side of your neck, his palm lowering to caress at your ass. His hips started rolling up toward yours and you pressed in closer to him. In this position, your movements weren’t as even, but it still felt good being wrapped up in his arms. The skin-to-skin contact felt amazing.
“Negan,” you purred out his name with his fingers curling around your neck giving it a tiny squeeze. His eyelids were heavy with lust, his moans matching yours with your movements.
“Who do you belong to?” Negan slurred, nipping at your jawline. It had you wincing, but you liked the way he held onto you.
“Negan,” you said what you knew he wanted and it made him smile. Pushing at his chest hard enough got him to roll onto his back when you took your time to crawl in over him. You wasted no time in reaching between the two of you to lead him back inside of you and the moan he let out was so sexy that it had chills running down your spine.
“I don’t know how much longer I’ll last,” Negan informed you, his hands settling at your hips with you getting more comfortable over him. Rocking forward, you raised your hips up to the tip and then lowered back down. Testing your positioning and the speeds, you found what felt the best. Doing your best to rock over his erection in more confident movements. His hands caressed up over your back and toward your breasts palming at them while you bounced yourself over his body. “Fuck…”
“Do you like the way my tight virgin pussy feels?” hearing you say that elicited the best moan from Negan thus far showing that he liked you dirty talking with him. Pulling himself into a seated position, he wrapped his arms around you helping you to roll your hips over his length.
“So fucking much,” Negan slurred against your lips between wet kisses that you were both frantic to have. Winces fell from both your throats. Having Negan angle your body a different way had that same familiar feeling he had drawn out from inside of you earlier when he was fingering you. Wanting to have that feeling again, you put forth more strength with him biting at your bottom lip giving it a tiny tug. “Go on honey. Do it for daddy.”
Negan’s right hand fell to your lower back, his left hand curling around the back of your neck while you firmly rocked your hips to his. Whimpering out, you pulled your hips from his and heard him moaning out when his cock pulled from your body. It was another earth-shattering orgasm, that was short lived when he rolled you back over onto your back. Smacking his hips forward against yours, Negan’s thrusts were fast and you knew that he was searching for that same kind of release.
Hooking your arms around him, your hands pawed at his back when he pressed his forehead to yours and his movements started to falter. Winces fell from his parted lips, the throbbing of his cock inside of you alerting you that he was reaching his orgasm. It was a strange feeling, but you clung to him wanting him to be close to you.
“Fucking hell,” Negan panted, lowering in over you. Small movements of his hips continued until he groaned against your lips. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” you snickered, stroking your fingers through his wet hair. Lifting his head, Negan’s hazel eyes looked worried and you dragged your hand down over the side of his face. “That was perfect.”
“I could have lasted longer,” Negan admitted, his brow line creasing. “I just haven’t been with a lot of virgins. And I was rock hard for a long time before we started…”
“It felt like a good length to me,” you were weak, enjoying the weight of him over you. Everything was sore, but from the orgasms that he gave you, you were more than happy.
“It wasn’t as long as you think it was,” Negan snickered, lifting up to meet your lips in a passionate sweep. Pressing his forehead to yours again, Negan smiled and shook his head. “So you’re happy?”
“Very,” you assured him, caressing your fingers over his freckle covered shoulders.
“That’s all that matters,” Negan hummed, adjusting his hips while he grew soft inside of you. “I uh…I haven’t slept with a lot of virgins. I was afraid of hurting you.”
“I mean I hurt,” you confessed, looking between the two of you and he did the same. “But I wouldn’t turn down this hurt if it was offered again.”
“You’ve already been through the worst of it,” Negan stammered, his hand palming in over the side of your face with his thumb sweeping against your cheek. “It won’t hurt like that again unless you’re with an asshole who is intending to hurt you.”
“As I said,” you whispered, stroking your fingers through Negan’s wet hair having his eyes connecting with yours. “I belong to you. I don’t want anyone else.”
“I don’t want you to want anyone else either,” Negan confessed, his words vibrating against your lips when he cuddled in closer to you.
“Then we will have to find a way to make it work,” you announced wondering what the hell was going to happen from here on out. Negan explained to you why he didn’t want you to be a wife. But now you knew that you were addicted to him and you wanted to be endlessly his from here on out. And nothing would change that.
----
Tags: @slutlanna976 @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @jennydehavilland @pixelb4rbie @ibelongtonegan
@smallsadjellyfish @labyrinthofheartagrams @msjamesmarch @thebeautysurrounds @hotfornegan
@redmercysugar @caprithebunny @tuttifuckinfruitty @emoryhemsworth @a-girl-interupted
@akumune @stoneyggirl2 @xsarcasticwriterx @haleygreen23 @xhannahbananax03
@sanctuaryforthelost @burningredaffair @killaweiser @dead-of-niight @ayumi-wolf
@promiscuousbarnes @tone-stark @lanadelnegan @peachihellcat
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Baby Fever
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | Tommy Shelby x wife!reader
Summary | Free use wife.
Warnings | Smut, breeding kink, free use lol, in public, exhibitionism, pregnancy (very few details cause… c’mon lol… I’m the one who wrote it💀), light humiliation.
Words | 1.5 k
Notes | Yeah this gif still makes me feral
Ao3 link | <3
Masterlist
Kinktober | day 2: free use + breeding kink
Tommy didn’t expect much from you as a wife. There were already staff who cooked and cleaned and you didn’t have any children yet. The one thing he did expect from you though, was being ready and willing to take his cock at any time of the day.
Sometimes he’d be more gentle about it, coaxing you away from whatever task or conversation you were involved in to somewhere more private where he’d ravish you until you could only think about him and his cock. Other times, he’d be more desperate.
If you happened to bring him lunch on a particularly stressful work day, he’d drag you in his office and bend you over the desk, fucking away all of his stress, if at least for a few minutes.
Sometimes at the race track he’d pull you away to a more secluded— but still very public— area and cover your mouth as he plowed into you, rough and desperate, borderline animalistic. If the sound of your muffled moans didn’t give you away, the loud slapping of skin definitely did, but he didn’t care. If he wanted you, nothing was stopping him from taking you.
A few times you even woke up to him lazily rutting into you, fucking you deep, but keeping the pace slow. He’d moan quietly, kissing and biting your neck, even sucking on the sensitive skin to leave marks.
If he was ever short on time, he’d force you to your knees and fuck your face, making you gag and choke on his cock until tears streamed down your cheeks. Sometimes he’d blow his load down your throat. But if you weren’t in public or in too much of a hurry for anything, he’d paint your pretty face with his come, marking you as his.
He knew you were embarrassed everytime you came back after he dragged you away. Every single time, without fail, you always looked like you were just fucked stupid. But that only encouraged him. He liked showing people that you belonged to him— that his wife was more than happy to satisfy him, even in public.
It was also common for him to pull over and make you ride his cock in the car, smiling at all the people who drove past. If he couldn’t pull over, he’d grab your hair and force you down on his cock. Even if he arrived at the destination, he wouldn’t stop until you drained his balls and swallowed every last drop. It didn’t matter if it was the middle of the day or if it was pitch black out— it didn’t even matter if the window was open or not. He’d fuck your face and throw his head back as the pleasure consumed him until he finally fell over the edge. Sometimes, his sounds would attract attention, and he loved the look on people’s faces when you lifted yourself up, smiling and wiping the lower half of your face with the back of your hand.
This didn’t happen often, but if he were ever in the middle of fucking you, too consumed by the feeling of your tight cunt squeezing his cock, and someone knocked on the door, he’d tell them to come in. It was usually someone you didn’t even know— one time it was Arthur… that was a particularly humiliating experience for you— but he wouldn’t stop. He’d keep you bent over his desk or on his lap and continue fucking you as you tried to not make any sounds. He always thought it was amusing when you tried to be quiet.
One time, he walked in on you holding Ada’s baby, smiling and cooing at him, making him giggle relentlessly. As soon as Tommy got you alone, his cock was inside you and he rambled on about fucking a baby into you, breeding you nice and deep until he knocked you up. His words were almost incoherent with arousal as he described this fantasy of your belly full with his kid, your tits swollen with milk, and the glow that you’d have from all of it. He rambled on about raising them together, how good you’d look as the mother of his kids, how he wanted to fuck baby after baby into you… breed you until he fucking ran out of come.
That sparked a conversation between the two of you. While the original plan was to wait a few years, you both agreed to shorten that time frame. So less than two years later, you were off of birth control and he was breeding you every chance he had. Honestly you were getting a little worn out, but you never complained. No matter how tiring it could be, you still absolutely loved it.
It became even more of a frequent occurrence for you to be walking around with either come soaked panties or come running down your thighs. He also took a liking to cock warming. In bed, on his desk chair, in the car— anywhere he could— he’d fuck you and fill you with his come, then keep you plugged up, wanting to make sure it really had a chance to take.
At home, he’d put you in the mating press position, then stuff you full of his come. Only instead of letting you relax, he'd keep your hips tilted up so none of it could leak out and make you come again with his mouth as a reward for staying in that position.
The first time he fucked you after finding out you were pregnant… he was practically feral. The fact that there was a baby inside you— that it was his baby, made him all but lose control. He ravaged you with an intensity he’s only had a few times, rambling on about how he planned to fuck you like this for a while since he would eventually have to be gentler— if he could even fuck you at all. The problem was that his promise didn’t just apply to when he fucked you in the privacy of your own home, but it was just a problem for you. Tommy loved that you couldn’t keep quiet.
Months down the line, rough, hard fucking turned into gentle love making. He’d kiss you tenderly as his hips rocked into you, keeping the pace almost tortuously slow. He tended to kiss over your stomach whenever he could and caress it with gentle hands. Both of you were surprised and disappointed by the fact that your breasts were far too tender for any touch to feel good. So he kept his hands and mouth elsewhere.
The love making usually took place in bed. But every once in a while, he’d come up behind you and wrap his arms around your small frame, placing his hands on your belly as he kissed your neck until he finally got too impatient and lifted your dress to slip his cock inside.
Around eight months, and even for weeks after the birth, he showed no sign of needing you like that. He never made you feel pressured either, even when he’d hold you at night. You were grateful though because your body definitely wasn’t ready for that yet.
It was a little after two months postpartum that you were becoming a bit too needy though. One day, after watching him play with and hold the baby, you finally snapped. The second you were alone you practically jumped his bones, kissing him almost animalistically and pulling on his hair until he moaned into your mouth and finally grabbed your hips.
“Love,” He started, but cut off when you unzipped your dress and let it fall to the floor, pooling around your feet.
“If you don’t fuck me right now I’m going to lose my mind.” You warned breathily, working on ripping his clothes off.
“Slow down, darling. You have to be careful.” He said gently, making you more frustrated.
“Thomas Shelby, I swear to god if you don’t fuck me, I’ll go find someone who will.” You growled, giving him one last warning. He raised his brows, shocked and amused by your words. “I carried your child for nine months. The least you could do is make me come on your cock until I forget my own name.”
“You’re that needy, eh?” He smirked, making you scowl. “Calm down, Mrs. Shelby, I’ll give it to you…” you still get butterflies when he calls you that, “but you know I can’t resist teasing you.”
“You’ve teased me for months. Either fuck the shit out of me or I’ll get it from someone else.” You said, voice low and almost threatening, but you knew it only made Tommy more amused.
“How have I teased you for months?” He asked innocently.
“Christ, Tommy— just fuck me already. You have to do what I say because I just birthed a whole baby for you.”
“I guess you're right.” He said with a sly smirk. “Until you forget your own name?” You nodded eagerly and he walked you backwards until your legs hit the bed. Once you were laying down, he crawled over you and kissed you deeply, making you moan against his lips and bring your hands up to his hair. “As you wish, darling.”
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I need him so bad. THE LITTLE THING HE DID WITH HIS MOUTH AND THE TILT IS MAKING ME HOLLER AND GRAB THE AIR PLEASE I FUCKING NEED HIM. THE NECKLACE OIUFJFHGJMFMFMFMDNFMDMDMDMDNDMD FUCK ME PLEASE. PLEASE IM JUST BEGGING.
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๋࣭⭑ֶֶֶָָָ֢֢֢𖹭 𝑫𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒐𝒔 ๋࣭⭑ֶֶֶָָָ֢֢֢𖹭
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๋࣭⭑ֶֶֶָָָ֢֢֢𖹭 Welcome ๋࣭⭑ֶֶֶָָָ֢֢֢𖹭
Hey, I'm Nyna. English is not my first language!! Forgive my mistakes!
Everything you see here is pure fiction, nothing is real!
Fiction in short: it’s a story invented and created by imagination, like all the stories written about any character or person. None of it actually happened, but it’s fun to imagine!
๋࣭⭑ֶֶֶָָָ֢֢֢𖹭Attention ๋࣭⭑ֶֶֶָָָ֢֢֢𖹭
All my stories are tagged #nyna's satin whispers
I write for female!readers.
Comments and reblogs are always loved and appreciated.
I’d love to connect with my readers.
My writing style focuses on romance, often exploring relationships with older men, and includes a touch of drama. If you're into stories that blend passion, tension, and love, you'll feel right at home here.
I write for several characters, of different styles, ages, all stories will have warnings!!
I'm not a professional writer; I write mostly as a hobby, so please forgive any mistakes.
I do not profit from any of the stories published. I write out of love and for entertainment. I only have rights to the characters I’ve created; all others belong to their respective original creators. Thank you for reading this far, and may you have sweet dreams with gentle whispers.
#nyna's satin whispers#peaky blinders x reader#twd fanfiction#actors#books & libraries#fanfic#wattpad#one shots#euphoria#tommy shelby x reader#the walking dead#twd fandom
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