pixie-ass

[pixie-ass]

Kill Kill

Diego Sheen x F!Reader

Summary- Lizzy Grant's, 'Kill Kill'.

"I'm in love with a dying man." - Reader and Diegos' life as Diegos' illness slowly eats away at him.

!Warnings!- Smut, they do indeed get freaky, reader rides Diego, submissive Diego. Also depressing topics, emotional rollercoaster.

Diego stumbled in and collapsed on the couch. He was drunk again. Y/n sighed as she watched his drunken state, crawling over to him, attempting to cuddle, she laid her head on his shoulder. Placing her hand on his chest she softly spoke, "Hi baby." He let out a soft chuckle as he took a swig from his bottle of whisky. His gaze landed on her, a smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. The alcohol seemed to loosen him up somewhat, though his usual sarcastic attitude remained. "Ain't ya a sight for sore eyes?” She smiled up at him, leaning in and planting a small kiss on the corner of his mouth. Y/n knew where he'd gone, what he did, but as much as she disliked his lifestyle, she let him be, knowing he didn't have long. 

"Any luck at the machines?" He snickered in response, lifting the bottle to his lips and taking another drink. His eyes flicked down to her as he let out a satisfied sigh, a small grin gracing his features. As his free hand came up to toy with her hair, he gave you a nod. "Always have luck at the machines, darlin'. Found some money for us, and I got somethin' else too.” 

"What's that?" She hummed, her head pushing against his warm hand unconsciously. He continued to lazily play with her hair, the alcohol making his movements more lazy and relaxed than usual. A coy smirk played at the corner of his lips, his eyes fixed on hers. There was something in his gaze, something he wanted to tell her but he looked uncertain for the moment. "Guess you'll just have to wait and find out, angel,” 

"Aw, c'mon don't be like that. Just show me." She quietly giggled, hitting his chest with the backside of her hand lightly. He chuckled as she playfully did so, the smirk growing into a wide grin. His fingers continued to absentmindedly toy with a strand of her hair, his eyes never leaving hers. However, a hint of uncharacteristic vulnerability flickered across his gaze for a brief moment before disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. "All in good time, sweetheart. Ain't no need to rush it.”

Y/n sighed, leaning into his shoulder more, folding her legs underneath her to get more comfortable.  "Maybe.." She whispered out, she knew he was sick, knew he didn't have much longer, him talking of a future always jabbed at her heart.  Leaning forward, grabbing a box of Camels from the coffee table, Y/n plucked one, placing it between her lips. Holding the box up to him, he hummed in response. He watched as you took a cigarette, his own hand coming to the box and pulling one out for himself. His arm wrapping around you and pulling you closer as he lazily continued to toy with your hair. A smug grin ghosted over his lips as he spoke, his gaze fixed on the ceiling above. "Yer gettin' as bad as I am, darlin'," he drawled, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Guess people do pick up things from the ones they love." She mumbled as she lit it, letting out a small puff. Y/n was sure after he'd be gone, she'd keep smoking, being the only aspect of him she'd have, apart from memories. He inhaled deeply as he lit his own, the smoke slowly escaping from his lips in a steady stream. He let out a soft chuckle, the fingers that were once playing with her hair now tracing small circles along her arm. "Reckon that makes me a bad influence, doesn't it?" He remarked in his usual mocking tone, the playfulness in his eyes returning. “My mama would agree." Y/n chuckled, letting out another drag as she laid her head on his chest.

His heartbeat was accelerated as it usually was nowadays. He smelled of the cologne he'd sprayed before leaving, mixed with cigarettes, booze, and his usual smell. It was comforting. Y/n found herself zoning out as she smoked. He snickered, the arm wrapped around her gently tugging her closer to him. His fingers continued to absentmindedly trace soft circles along her skin as his other hand took another drink from the bottle of liquor. From the rise and fall of his chest, she could faintly hear the sound of his labored breathing. However, he made no mention of it. "If yer mama knew 'bout me, she'd chase me out with a pitchfork.” As if not listening, Y/n stayed zoned out. The only thing moving was her hand, bringing the cigarette to her lips. 

"Baby, what am I gonna do..." She didn't want or mean to sour the moment, but it was all her poor mind could think about. He glanced down at her for a moment, taking in her distant expression. When he spoke, his tone had lost its playful lilt, replaced by a gentleness that was usually reserved for late nights and private moments. He let out a small sigh, his free hand coming up to toy with her hair again, his fingers gently running through the strands.

"What do ya mean what are ya gonna do? You'll keep goin', angel'. Just like ya always have.” Y/n could feel her eyes begin to fill up with tears, her throat feeling like it was gonna close. 

"Baby, I'll miss you. I couldn't go on without you... I just couldn't." A terrifying thought had struck her mind, leave him before he goes. As her voice trembled with tears and desperation, he looked down at her, his own heart clenching tightly in his chest as he saw the pain in her sweet eyes. The realization of what she was saying struck him like a knife, and without a word, he pulled her onto his lap, his arms wrapping around her, holding her tightly against him.

"Don't talk like that, darlin'. Yer not gettin' rid of me that easily. I ain't goin' anywhere right now.” She let him hold her, head burying into his chest as she began to weep like a child. Holding onto him like he was her lifeline. 

His words weren't a promise. Neither of them was sure how long he had, and his coughing was becoming more frequent. His health was deteriorating at an alarmingly painful rate.

He held her tightly in his arms, his hand moving to the back of her head as he pressed her head against his chest, his fingers gently running through her hair in an attempt to soothe her crying. "Shhh...it's alright, sweetheart. It's alright.." He spoke softly, his voice barely above a whisper. The sound of his labored breaths did nothing to reassure him of his own words as he pressed his lips against the top of your head, pulling her closer to him. 

That night, Y/n fell asleep in the comfort of his arms. Knowing that at least for that night, it'd all be fine, almost normal. She could enjoy what little time they had left. He held her close, his arms wrapping tightly around her as he rested his chin against the top of her head. Despite the illness that was slowly eating away at him, the alcohol he'd consumed made everything feel okay for the moment. The sound of his heart beat against her ear, the rise and fall of his chest as he inhaled and exhaled in a steady rhythm. For a moment, everything felt normal. But both of them knew it was only temporary. 

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The next morning, Y/n woke up in their shared bed. Diego must have brought her over. Like always, the bed was empty, but Y/n knew where to find him. 

Getting out of the bed, she pulled on one of Diegos' black button ups and slipped on some Levi's, not caring much for appearance at the moment. She walked into the kitchen grabbing some coffee before heading out to the porch where Diego sat, smoking a cigarette and drinking his coffee. She sat down next to him. Diego leaned back in the seat, the usual smoldering cigarette dangling from his lips and nearly halfway burned down to the filter. His eyes were fixed on the scenery before him as he slowly sipped from his coffee, the usual calm and collected expression on his face as he appeared to be contemplating something.

He glanced her way as she came to sit beside him, his eyes roaming over her form, taking in the shirt she was wearing and a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Mornin', darlin'.” 

"Morning, baby." Y/n responded as she sipped on her coffee, staring out at the empty desert view. The smell of cigarettes filled her senses, the same comfort taking over. 

"What are you gonna do today?" She asked, as she did so, Diego began to get into one of his coughing fits. He took another drag from his cigarette before placing it on the ashtray beside him, his hand coming to cover his mouth as the coughing attacked his chest. It took him a few minutes to regain his composure, his breathing labored and shallow as he leaned back against the seat.

"I was plannin' on headin' into town. Gotta see a friend about somethin'. Nothin' too interestin'," he responded, his tone nonchalant as if the coughing hadn't even happened. Y/n stared at him, a sympathetic yet saddened look on her face. Letting out a small sigh to gain her composure, she did the same, "Aw okay. Ya want me to stay here?" He noticed the sympathetic, sad look on her face, and he let out a gruff sigh, his shoulders slouching a bit.

"Yeah, darlin'. Just stay here. No need for ya to come with," he said gently, his usual rough exterior softening somewhat as he reached over and placed a hand on her knee, giving it a light squeeze. Y/n nodded in response, "I'll make us a nice supper. Something you'll love." She smiled at him, yet there was a sad look in her eyes and tone. Quickly glancing down at her cup of coffee, she stared down at it like it was something impressive. He could see the sadness in her eyes, the forced smile on her face was a bit too obvious, but he didn't comment on it. Instead, he patted her knee lightly a final time before pulling his hand away.

"That'd be nice. Can't wait, but ya know ya dont gotta do that, angel," he said in his usual casual tone, trying to make it seem like everything was fine. He lifted his coffee to his lips and took another sip, his gaze shifting back to the scenery in front of him as the silence settled in between them. "I want to. It's no hassle. it gives me something to do." Something to distract my mind. 

•••

That evening, Y/n kissed Diego goodbye, watching as he began coughing, spitting on the ground before he got in his truck. He was becoming more worrisome, but he was stubborn, said he didn't need help. The disease was progressing faster and faster, and it was becoming more obvious each time she saw him. But still, as stubborn as ever, he shook away any concerns Y/n expressed with a wave of his hand and a gruff assurance. He climbed into the truck, giving Y/n a nod before starting up the engine and driving away. The clouds of dust and exhaust billowing behind the truck as it drove off down the dirt road and out of sight. As Y/n walked into the house, she sat down at a little desk Diego had gotten her when she moved in. She opened up her small journal, beginning to rapidly scribbled away.

'I'm in love with a dying man, I've done everything I can. Love him, I do, stay much longer I'm not sure if I can. Scared I won't be able to stay to watch the stars fade from his eyes.'

After she closed the journal, she broke down, crying into her hands. Of course, the one man Y/n had really fallen in love with had such a promising demise.

The silence in the small lonely house was interrupted only by the sound of Y/n's quiet sobs as she sat at the desk, pouring her thoughts and worries into the journal. The clock ticked on lazily, the sound the only other form of comfort in the otherwise silent house.

•••

The sky slowly darkened as the sun began to set, casting shadows over the small little home that sat out in the middle of the desert. The sound of a truck and dust clouds approaching signaled Diego's return. Shortly after, the sound of the front door opening and closing followed as he walked inside. Y/n stood up from the kitchen table. Walking over to the door, she opened her arms as she jumped up and embraced him, welcoming him home. Diego accepted her embrace, feeling the warmth of her body against his own and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight for a moment before letting go. A wide smile was plastered on her face as she led him into the kitchen by the hand.

"Made ya some yummy steak and potatoes just how ya like em. Hope it's good." He nodded in thanks as Y/n led him into the kitchen, his eyes scanning over the meal she’d prepared for the two of them.

Y/n  smiled as she began grabbing some plates. Her nose was red from all the crying she'd done previously, voice a bit nazily. Y/n hoped Diego hadn't noticed. But of course he had noticed the redness and slight congestion in her voice, and he furrowed his eyebrows in concern. He could tell that she'd been crying, but he didn't say anything as he took a seat at the table. "Looks delicious, darlin'.” Y/n’s smile widened as she served him a full plate of potatoes and steak, setting it in front of him. He let out a content sigh as she placed the meal in front of him, his eyes roaming over the food for a moment before glancing up at her, admiringly.

"Made some nice lemonade, too." Serving him a cup of it too, she placed it in front of him.  Y/n quickly grabbed her own plate as she sat down across from him. Diego's stomach rumbled as the scent of the meal filled his nostrils.  "It smells great. Thank you, darlin'." He picked up his fork and began digging into the meal, letting out a satisfied hum as the flavors burst across his tongue. The simple meal was made all the better by the fact that Y/n had cooked it for him. She watched as he ate, happy he was enjoying it. Y/n took a bite aswell, congratulating herself about how good she had done. 

"How'd it go with you, friend?" If Y/n was any other woman, she'd probably question his outings to the casino and with friends, but Y/n trusted she was the only woman he was seeing. Diego took another bite of the steak, savoring the tenderness of the meat and the seasonings used. As he chewed, he looked up at Y/n and nodded his head in appreciation, swallowing before responding to her question.

"It was alright. Nothing too excitin', just caught up with the locals and had a drink or two." His response was casual, as if it was nothing to worry about. And it wasn't anything to worry about, of course. Y/n had nothing to be concerned about when it came to him. She smiled as she took another bite, nodding, "That's good baby, hope ya enjoyed yourself." And she really did. Y/n wanted him to have the best while he could. Diego smiled at her words, touched by her concern for his happiness despite the situation. He knew that Y/n wanted him to make the most out of the time he had left, and he appreciated it more than he could say.

"Sure did, darlin'. The locals always make for fun conversation, even if they don't make any damn sense half the time." He chuckled, taking a bite of mashed potatoes. Y/n let out a giggle at that, "I'm surprised you can even understand them." The locals' hick accents were so thick it sounded like gibberish half the time. Diego let out a hearty chuckle, leaning back in his seat as he thought about the town locals. "Yeah, sometimes it's like tryin' to understand a damn foreign language. But ya get used to it after a while. Plus, they've got some wild stories to tell, and that makes it worth it most of the time.” 

"Yeah, I bet they do." Y/n responded, biting her food. She took a sip of her drink, she felt fine yet still felt a great wave of somberness. As if on cue, Diego began another fit of violent coughs. Though this one looked much worse that it had Y/n standing up. Diego doubled over in his seat as the coughing attack tore through his body, the violent spasms wracking his frame. He covered his mouth with a napkin, trying to muffle the sound, but there was no hiding the raw, hacking coughs that wracked his body. She watched him cover his mouth with a napkin and after the fit was over he pulled the napkin away, he saw blood staining the fabric and his heart sank. He quickly tried to hide it so she wouldn't see, but it was too late. 

Quickly stuffing the napkin into his pocket, Y/n had already seen it. And that was the last straw for her. "I can't do this anymore, Diego!.." She stood up, beginning to cry hysterically. "I can't keep living like nothing is wrong. You're getting worse day by day for fucks sake. Now... Now this! I can't! I can't anymore!." She tightly gripped onto her hair with her hands as she paced around the room, hard sobs racking her body as she hiccuped. Diego's eyes widened in surprise at Y/n's yelling, the sudden outburst unexpected. He remained seated, watching as she paced around the room and sobbed hysterically, feeling a pang of guilt in his chest at the sight. He knew he was hurting her, that the situation was taking its toll on both of them, but he was stubborn and had refused to acknowledge it.

"Dammit, stop it. It's not that bad," he said firmly, trying to downplay the severity, though his voice wavered ever so slightly. "Not that bad?? Not that bad, huh? Now you're coughing up blood! Blood, Diego!" Y/n yanked the napkin from his hands, her own shaky hands holding it as she showed him, before staring down at it herself and throwing it on the ground. Diego winced as she grabbed the napkin and showed it to him, the sight of the blood staining the white fabric a harsh reality check. Y/n could only cry, "Diego, you're not fine! " She knew what this meant. The time was getting closer. There was no future for them. He clenched his jaw, his expression hardening as he fought back the emotions welling up inside him.

"I know I'm not fine, sweetheart," he said gruffly, his voice gravelly as he struggled to maintain his composure. "But there's not much I can do about it, is there?” That was the worst part. There was nothing him or Y/n could do to change the situation or magically cure him. 

"And that's what's killing me! I'm watching you die, Diego! Do you get that? And there's nothing I can do to fix that, I can't cure you with love or comfort or anything. We're both just waiting, and it's eating away at me!" Diego sat there in silence, listening to her words. They cut deep, hitting him like a punch to the gut. He knew she was right, that there was nothing he could do to change the fate that was closing in on him. The realization of it all was devastating, and he felt powerless.

"Believe me, darlin'," he said in a voice barely above a whisper, his throat tight with emotion, "I ain't exactly enjoying it myself, ya know?” Y/n stared at him in silence, unmoving. Her expression had changed in a split second to one that was unreadable. "I'm leaving." She responded, breaking the silence, sniffling and wiping at her eyes as she spoke. Diego felt his heart sink further as the words left her mouth. He hadn't expected them, and the prospect of Y/n leaving hit him hard.

"What do ya mean, you're leavin'?" He sat up straight in his seat, his expression filled with a mix of shock and dread. "I can't stay here and wait for you to die, Diego. I'd rather leave now, that I see you still alive and breathing than watch you stop breathing and live with that engraved in my head. I love you, really I do, but I can't stay here anymore." Y/n began heading to the bedroom before she let him respond. 

"Dammit, stop. You can't just leave!" Diego was on his feet in an instant, a surge of desperation coursing through him as he followed after her into the bedroom. His voice was firm, pleading even, as he tried to reason with her.

"You ain't leavin' me. Please, angel. Don't do this. I need ya.” Y/n was in the room, packing her bags with the few clothes and items she had. She was crying as she heard his voice. Barely able to see what she was doing through the tears.  "Diego please don't make this harder.." Diego stood in the doorway, watching as she fumbled through packing her belongings, tears streaming down her face. The sight broke him. He knew how much this was hurting Y/n, how much it was hurting both of them, but he couldn't let her go. Not like this.

"Then don't leave," he pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion. "Stay with me. I don't wanna be alone. Not now.” Y/n turned around, staring at his face. He looked broken, more than he already had, and it completely shattered her heart, his words, his face. 

"I cant...stay..." was it selfish of her? Maybe. Diego watched as she turned to face him, his expression filled with a mixture of despair and desperation. He knew she were determined to leave, that she couldn't stay any longer, but hearing her say it was more painful than he could ever have prepared himself for. The thought of losing her, of being alone in his final days, was a torment that he couldn't bear.

He stepped closer to her, his voice now pleading. "Please, darlin'. I'm beggin' ya. Don't go. I need ya. I don't-" He choked back a sob.  Y/n looked at the ground, feeling conflicted. She couldn't help the new round of cries that were coming. She bit her lip to hold back the sobs, tears flowing down her cheeks. She didn't respond. 

Diego watched as she looked down, tears streaming down her face. He could see the conflict in her eyes, the pain and indecision. The sound of her sobs filled the room, each one like a dagger to his heart. He took another step closer, reaching out to take her hand in his, desperate to find the right words to make Y/n stay. "I know it's hard," he said softly, his voice wavering. "But you can't do this to me. You can't leave me now.”

"It's not fair..." She quietly responded. "You're gonna leave me. Soon." Diego's grip on her hand tightened at those words, the raw emotion in her voice making his own throat constrict with emotion. He knew it was true, that he was going to die, but hearing her say it out loud made it all the more real, all the more painful. "I know it ain't fair," he said in a pained whisper. "Believe me, the thought of leaven' ya alone, it's killin' me... but I can't change that. Please, angel. Ya gotta stay. I need ya by my side.” Y/n only nodded as she let herself fall into his chest, head leaning against his shoulder. She couldn't help the continued sobs that left her body. She'd stay until his final breath. It was the curse of loving a dying man.

Diego wrapped his arms around her tightly, pulling her close against his chest. He could feel the force of her sobs as they shook her body, each one a reminder of the pain and grief that both of them were going through. He held her there in silence for a moment, his own emotions threatening to overflow. When he spoke, his voice was thick and rough with emotion. "I'm so damn sorry for puttin' ya through this, angel. I never wanted-" His voice broke, and he swallowed hard. 

"Don't. It's not your fault. I know." Y/n whispered out. She didn't want to hear more, she wanted to keep pretending like they had, like everything was good. Diego nodded, his arms still tight around her, grateful for her understanding. He knew she was holding back her own pain and grief, fighting to keep up the façade of normalcy, and he was thankful for it.

He rested his chin atop Y/n’s head, holding her close and relishing the warmth of her body against his. He whispered softly into her ear. "Thank you... I ain't deserve ya. But I'm sure as hell damn glad I got ya.”

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The next few days were spent well. Filled with lots of memories, gun-shooting, horseback riding, gambling, and lots, and lots of sex. 

They were staying at a hotel in Las Vegas right now. It was late at night. They both laid in bed after a long day of gambling. Ever since Diego had coughed up blood, it'd only happened 2 times more after that, but the regular fits were getting a bit more frequent. Diego and Y/n were lying beside one another on the bed in the hotel room, the room dark except for the faint glow of the Vegas lights filtering through the curtains. The sounds of the city outside could be heard, but they were muffled and distant, almost like a hum in the background.

Diego lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling, his mind wandering. The coughs had gotten worse, and he felt tired... so damn tired. But he didn't want to worry you, not now, not when they were spending their last days together. Y/n laid there, head on Diego's chest as she stared out the covered windows at the bright lights.  She stared at him, he seemed tired, stamina not comparable to her anymore. She planted a kiss on his chest as she stared up at him as he smoked his cigarette.

Diego smoked away at his cigarette as she rested her head on his chest, his free hand gently stroking her hair. He could feel her gaze on him, and it made him want to hide the exhaustion and pain he felt. Instead, he tried to focus on the sensations of her head on his chest and the way her hair felt beneath his fingers. "Whatcha lookin' at, angel?"  He muttered, his voice gravelly with smoke and fatigue.  "The most handsome man in the world." Y/n responded, not taking her eyes off of him. Y/n slightly sat up, planting another kiss on his neck, then going up to his jaw. Diego chuckled softly at her words, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. He leaned his head back to give Y/n better access, enjoying the sensation of her lips against his skin.

"Charmer," He murmured, the sound of his voice rough and low. He took a drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling upwards in the dim light of the room. Y/n leaned back, leaning her head towards his hand that held the cigarette, motioning towards it so he'd give her a puff. Diego tilted the cigarette in her direction, bringing it to her lips. He watched as Y/n took a drag from it, the tip of the cigarette glowing orange in the dim light, and let the smoke slowly slip from her mouth. "Careful, darlin'," he said, the smile growing on his lips. "Don't go gettin' addicted on me now.” Y/n let out a small giggle, the rest of the smoke escaping. She planted a long kiss on his lips before pulling back. Y/n shifted under the blankets, so that she was now straddling his torso. Diego's breath hitched as she straddled him, feeling her body on top of his. He reached up to place his hands on her hips, holding her in place. She placed her hands on his chest as she leaned in for another long kiss. He deepened the kiss, savoring the feeling of her lips against his own, his tongue exploring her mouth hungrily.

He felt himself growing aroused, the familiar heat spreading through his body, but he kept his focus on the kiss, not wanting to break the moment. They'd already had some rounds, but Diegos' age and condition made him tire quicker, while Y/n still had plenty left in her. She moaned into the kiss, never growing tired of his taste. Diego responded to Y/n’s moan with a low growl, his hands moving up from her hips to grip firmer on her waist. He could feel her moving against him, the heat building between them, but his body was betraying him, growing tired and exhausted from the day's activities and the relentless progression of the disease.

He broke the kiss, panting heavily, his eyes locking on hers. "Angel," he breathed out, his voice hoarse, "I ain't gonna keep up with ya if we don't take a break.”

"One more round, cmon... pretty please.." Y/n begged as she pouted, giving him pleading doe eyes, "I'll go gentle on ya.” Diego let out a laugh, the sound thick with lust and exhaustion. He could feel his body respond to her plea, but he fought against the need, knowing he was too tired to keep up with her enthusiasm.

"Damnit, darlin'. You're playin' dirty." He grunted, his grip on her hips still firm but shaky. "Ya know I can't say no to those eyes and that damn pout.” Y/n smiled as she moved her hips down to his own pelvic region. They were both already ready, so it was easy to slip him in. Y/n let out a low groan as she quickly bottomed out, never growing tired of him. Diego groaned loudly as she lowered herself onto him, the sensation intense and overwhelming. She gently and slowly moved her hips. He clenched his jaw, his body responding to her movements despite the exhaustion that threatened to take over.

He looked up at Y/n, his eyes dark with desire, and he fought the urge to thrust up into her. Instead, he held onto her hips, letting Y/n control the pace, his fingers digging into her skin in an effort to hold back. "God damn, angel," he breathed, his voice rough and ragged. 

"Shh... I got this, baby." Y/n gently rolled her hips against him, watching his expressions. She held onto his chest as she did so. Diego watched her with a mix of desire and a hint of irritation at being told to "shh." But as Y/n rolled her hips against him, he let out a guttural moan, his head falling back against the pillow as he surrendered to the feel of her on top of him. He dug his fingers into her hips, his grip tight as he fought the urge to pull her down harder onto him, to take over and set his own pace. Instead, he let Y/n continue the slow, gentle rhythm, his breath hitching with each movement. As Y/n continued, she sped up a bit, pushing harder down onto him so he'd hit a bit deeper. She let out a small whimper at each gentle thrust, "You're doing so good, baby.." Y/n  whispered out. 

Diego felt himself growing dizzier with each thrust, the pleasure mixed with the exhaustion making it increasingly difficult to stay focused. But the sound of Y/n’s voice, the praise in her words, it fueled him forward, and he dug his fingers deeper into her hip, wanting more of Y/n, always more. "Angel..," he panted, his voice low and strained. "I'm... I'm not- Gonna last... much longer-” Y/n bit her lip as she continued the hard yet slow rhythm, leaning down and planting kisses on Diego's neck, placing small nibbles in between. 

Diego moaned loudly, his head tilted back to give her better access to his neck, his body trembling with each kiss and bite she left on his skin. The pace she was keeping was driving him mad, the slow, hard thrusts bringing him closer and closer to the edge, but also denying him the release he craved. "Fuuucckk," he growled, his voice guttural and thick with need. "Don't... don't stop. Please, don't stop.” Y/n took that as a hint to speed up a bit, which she did, adding just enough pressure. Diego arched his back as she increased the pace, a low growl ripping from his throat. The added pressure made his head spin, and he felt his body nearing the breaking point.

"That good, baby?"  Y/n asked as she continued to kitten lick his neck. He was so close, so damn close, and he knew there was no holding back now. "Yeah, darlin', that's it," he panted, his voice ragged. "You're gonna... you're gonna make me..." He couldn't finish the sentence, his words becoming lost in a moan as the pleasure threatened to consume him. "Go ahead, baby.." Y/n gently ran a hand over his cheek, "Such a handsome boy, and all mine too." Y/n cooed as she continued. She bit her lip to hold back her own moans. Diego felt his body tense as she spoke, her words and touch tipping him over the edge. He let out a strangled gasp, his fingers digging into her hips as he found his release, his body shuddering as the pleasure washed over him.

He was lost in the wave of ecstasy, his eyes closing as he rode it out. When he finally came down, he opened his eyes to stare up at Y/n, panting and shaky. "Fuck, Angel…," he breathlessly muttered. Y/n kissed him as he released, though her movements didn't pause even after his release. Diego kissed back, his lips hungrily meeting hers, his hands trailing up to her chest as he lost himself in the aftermath of his climax.

"Diego's baby has to cum too, hm?" She sat up, rocking her hips continuously. He groaned as Y/n continued to rock her hips rather harshly, the oversensitivity making him shiver. "God, you're gonna kill me, woman," he panted, his voice a mixture of pleasure and pain. "I'm... I'm still recoverin' here.” Y/n ignored his pleas, focusing on getting herself off. She kept bouncing herself back and forth, now at a much more rapid pace, throwing her head back. Diego watched as Y/n rode him mercilessly, her pace quickening and head falling back, exposing the smooth column of her throat. His hands moved back to her hips, trying to get Y/n to slow down, but his touch was weak and shaky, his body still trying to recover from his own release. "Darlin', slow down," he panted, his voice ragged. "I'm not... I'm not gonna be any good to you like this.”

"Nah baby...fuck.." Y/n moaned out in response, "you're fucking perfect. " Y/n was now quietly moaning, almost small whimpers as she continued riding him harshly. Diego bit back a moan as Y/n continued the brutal pace, his grip on her hips tightening in an effort to get her to slow down. One of her hands slid down to massage her clit, causing the feeling to grow as she let out much louder moans. 

"Dammit, angel, You're... You're gonna break me," he grunted, his voice thick with pleasure and fatigue. "I ain't as young as I used to be. I... I can't keep up with ya.” As Y/n massaged herself, she could feel herself getting close, "C'mon old man... quite whining." She teased as she shut her eyes, mouth falling open. Diego let out a growl at getting called an "old man," a mixture of irritation and amusement in his expression. He knew he was fighting a losing battle, his body still exhausted and spent.

"Watch it, darlin'," he warned between gasp, his voice a low rumble. "I can still give yer pretty little ass a lesson on manners.” To shut him up, Y/n began thrusting harder, feeling her high coming fast. Her jaw dropped as she let out a loud stream of whimpers, making a mess all over Diego's cock as she came hard. Diego groaned loudly as you came, the sound of your whimpers driving him crazy.  As Y/n came, she continued moving her hips through it. He clenched his jaw as she rode him through it, the oversensitivity making his body quiver. Finally she crumbled onto Diego's chest as she caught her breath, still seeing stars. He wrapped his arms around Y/n, holding her close to him as he panted, his breath ragged as well. 

"Hell of a way to shut me up," he muttered, his voice gravelly and breathless. Y/n stayed quiet as she panted, body shivering as the only sound she was able to get out was heavy pants through her mouth. Y/n felt dizzy from how strong her orgasm was, having been the strongest one tonight. He could feel how strong the climax had been for her, the intensity and pleasure having left her breathless. Diego held her close, her body trembling against his chest as she panted and shuddered. He ran his fingers gently over her back, the touch light and soothing as he waited for Y/n to come down from the peak, his own exhaustion forgotten for the moment. "Fuuck..." Y/n finally breathed out, "your cocks so good, baby."  She spoke, almost in disbelief even though this wasn't near the first time they'd had sex. Diego let out a low chuckle, the sound thick with exhaustion and a hint of pride.

"You always did know how to flatter a guy," he replied, his voice rough and still a little breathless. "Though, I reckon I can't take all the credit for this." He gave her backside a gentle pat, the small gesture affectionate and full of a touch of his usual playfulness. Y/n let out a small giggle as he did so, her body still flattened into his chest, using him as a mattress almost. She still hadn't pulled out. 

"Guess it's a 2 person thing, but you've got the magic," Y/n winked up at him. Diego chuckled again, the sound low and gentle. His hand continued to glide across her back, feeling the rise and fall of her breath as she lay on his chest. "You're not too bad yourself, darlin'," he replied gruffly. "I know I ain't young, but you still manage to wear me out like a damn dog.” Y/n smiled, lazily lifting her head, planting a kiss on the corner of his mouth, "I love ya baby. " She laid her head back down, closing her eyes Diego smiled back, the corners of his eyes wrinkling slightly. He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead before replying.

"I love ya too, darlin," he murmured, his voice low and gravelly with affection. "You're the best damn thing that's ever happened to me.” He planted a gentle kiss on her forehead before speaking up again. “Bout that thing I got ya.” He leaned over, opening the small drawer, “Was gonna wait but, better now.” There was a small maroon box in his hands. He opened it up showing a beautiful ring, an engagement ring. Y/n's eyes widened as she stared at it, tears now welling up in them, “Oh baby…” he took it out, holding his hand out for her to give him her hand, she didn't hesitate. He slipped the ring on, “The future aint promised, so i cant propose to marry you. But for the time being.” She was now crying as she stared down at the ring, admiring it she could only nod in response. 

“When I'm gone, I want you to take care of yourself. Don't trust anyone fully, angel, but have fun. Live your life to the fullest, promise me ya won't have me keeping you back.” 

•••

Diego was the first to fall asleep. After the small session of crying after his proposal, they'd cuddled, Diego having his arms tight around Y/n. She was still awake, gently brushing some strands of hair away from his face as he quietly snored. He looked at peace even as his calm breathing was interrupted by bits of jagged breaths. Y/n watched him as he slept, making sure he was fine. The fear he may stop breathing keeping her from a deep sleep. Eventually she found herself slowly dozing off into the usual light sleep, head against his chest, the gentle face of her dying lover the last thought in her mind. 

[pixie-ass]

[pixie-ass]

[pixie-ass]

Norman Reedus

I’m Losing You (1998) (x)

[pixie-ass]

I dont know how to explain it but norman reedus is like the most beautiful male i’ve seen he’s like not real but also so unperfect and looks like an elf who smokes weed and his physique is so pure yet still evil like he has this fallen angel beauty to him idk i can’t stop thinking about him

[pixie-ass]

Guys at work told me I have a certain vibe that feels off but that I'm genuinely a sweet and kind girl.

[pixie-ass]

[pixie-ass]

Me

[pixie-ass]

[pixie-ass]

[pixie-ass]

Twilight Saga: New Moon (2009)

[pixie-ass]

Mood for November

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reblog this if you're okay with booping spams please !!

[pixie-ass]

Cherry Pie

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: You know virtually nothing about sex, and Daryl’s done it all. Together, you take on an impromptu anatomy lesson, and you learn that Daryl has a lot more to teach you than what’s covered in the textbooks.

Warnings: NSFW. Corruption kink!!! Loss of virginity. Messy, unprotected p-in-v. Oral (f!receiving). Daryl puts your promise ring on his tongue while he eats you out and does it in front of someone else, in secret. Half-baked breeding kink and an indirect marriage proposal.

Love him or hate him, the man played to win.

Daryl was one of those few unflinchingly stubborn motherfuckers who never saw a challenge he didn’t like, or a game he couldn’t beat. The world at large was his personal sports arena, and everyone around him a rival. You suspected that was why, with his hands planted on either one of your thighs and a smile as wide as the moon shining bright above you two, you almost felt inclined to believe him when he’d said:

“I’m gonna pop tha’ cherry someday, just wait.”

You remembered staring at him in a mixture of confusion and disbelief, hardly computing the words he’d spoken.

“What’s a cherry?” you’d asked.

Daryl just grinned even bigger and dropped a kiss over your two, tightly knit eyebrows, grabbing your hand to hoist you back onto your feet. Then he’d led you back, promising to tell you everything in due time.

That was six months ago—and you hardly knew more about this wild, elusive “cherry” today than you did back then. The longer Daryl led you down this rabbit hole, the more you started to believe this whole thing was nothing but a sordid working of your friend’s imagination. Another sinister game you were destined to lose.

Presently, you squeezed his head tight between your thighs and gripped the headboard even harder, rutting your hips in the most obscene manner above Daryl’s outstretched tongue. You felt your whole body tremble with pleasure, and in a matter of seconds, that merciless, mind-numbing bliss came crashing over your senses.

Orgasms, you’d learned a little over a week ago, weren’t just the stuff of dreams but a real life bodily release. Ever since Daryl had made you privy to that secret euphoric source, it seemed you were aching for it all hours of the day; accordingly, you’d made a frequent seat of Daryl’s face and rode that wave every chance you got. There were moments you feared the man might suffocate between your thighs, but he came up smiling every time.

At length, Daryl happily lapped up the last drops of your arousal and hummed an appreciative note below.

You slid—or, more aptly, collapsed—down his body and brought your head to rest on his chest, panting in awe.

“You bastard,” you hissed.

“That good?” Daryl grinned.

“Surely this...oral fixation isn’t gonna last forever, is it?”

You tilted your head just in time to see Daryl swiping his thumb over his bottom lip before bringing it down to your own. Coaxing the digit between your lips and waiting for you to suck it, all wide-eyed and innocent.

“Mhmm,” he nodded, pushing his finger even further. Whether he was answering your question or simply urging you to take more of him, you couldn’t be sure.

Though you weren’t particularly fond of that unfamiliar taste in your mouth, you accepted it anyway and sucked on his thumb like you knew he wanted you to do. You even got the sense he liked when your eyes locked on his, so you did that too, just staring and suckling and feeling a bit like a fool. Daryl groaned and drove his finger even deeper, smiling when your throat convulsed around him.

He withdrew his hand and admired the strings of saliva that followed it. Then, with that same hand, he patted your head affectionately.

“Gettin’ there,” he said. Already sliding off your bed and heading toward the bathroom.

Getting where? You thought, almost forlorn at the sight of his retreating figure.

Daryl did this every time—lick, rub, and tonguefuck you dumb ‘til you came all over his face, then leave you sprawled out on your bed while he locked himself away in another room. It was bewildering.

He wouldn’t tell you why he left, or what he was doing while tucked away from your prying eyes, but you surmised it had something to do with the lump in his jeans. That zipped-up, bulging mass that always seemed to disappear mere minutes after leaving your presence, the “puffy” thing you’d prodded once or twice above the fabric of his pants. You ached to know what inhabited that space between his legs, and even more, what made it vanish so fast. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to suss out that those parts of him had something to do with the analogous parts on you, so it seemed you had only to feel yourself up to get a little closer to the truth.

You slipped a hand between your thighs and ran a touch down your slick, throbbing core.

You hardly knew what you were doing; you just wanted to learn more.

A shiver passed over your lower half as your fingers grazed a particularly raw spot, one you remembered Daryl calling your clit. It didn’t feel the same beneath your trembling touch.

Nothing did, in fact. You pushed a finger inside yourself and barely made it to the second knuckle before your walls started to sting.

What made Daryl’s tongue feel so good that wouldn’t work the same for your own hands?

An exasperated sigh shuddered through your chest, and your eyes started to close. You teased another finger at your entrance, hoping to simulate the same sensation of Daryl’s mouth, but you whimpered when it burned. You bit your lip, braced yourself, and stupidly ventured for a third, when something tore your attention away.

You jolted back in bed and shot a look to the side, where Daryl had your offending hand pinched between two fingers. You peered up at him and saw him scowl.

“’Fuck ye think yer doin’?” he snapped.

You bit back your nerves and surprised yourself with a quick return, spoken just as sternly:

“Touching myself, Daryl, what does it look like?”

You tried to yank your hand away, but Daryl kept it close to his body. Squeezed it even harder.

“I thought we talked about tha’,” he said, his voice annoyingly even, “We said ye weren’t allowed to touch yerself ‘less I was there with ya.”

You couldn’t help it. You pulled hard on your hand and pried yourself out of his grasp. Then you slotted it right back between your legs, eyes never leaving his.

“We haven’t talked about anything, Daryl. You won’t tell me a goddamn thing about this...thing of mine, or yours, or anything,” you said, flustered and unable to keep from repeating your words the longer you tried racking your brain of its limited vernacular.

You pretended not to notice when Daryl’s eyes drifted down your body, and the once-flat seam of his jeans started to stir. Didn’t spare a second glance when he shifted uncomfortably on his feet and seemed to waver, indeterminately, between two warring ideas in his brain.

In truth, he was debating whether to fuck you senseless right there on your plush, lacy sheets or else sit back and watch you try and piece yourself together, all misguided fingertips and muffled whimpers before his hungry gaze. And, if he were a little more honest with himself, he would admit he wasn’t just hungry but starved for your affections, seeing you splayed across the covers with your fingers dipped between your folds and fumbling around without the faintest idea of where to put them.

You’d been born and raised within the four walls of this post-apocalyptic community and hadn’t strayed an inch outside a second in your life. Folks like you, afforded the unique luxury of never needing to leave the asylum, simply had no reason to learn life’s dirtier dimensions.

You knew the birds and the bees and your mother’s ardent pleas never to let a man corrupt you down there if he wasn’t your husband, but you didn’t even know how that corruption came to be. You were pure, unblemished territory, blinking up at Daryl with the widest eyes of naïveté, and part of him couldn’t bear the thought of taking that away from you—not yet, at least.

Another part of him felt the urge to defile you in the worst ways imaginable, right then and there, with both your parents lounging obliviously downstairs.

While he fought every filthy-minded inclination in his body, Daryl took a seat on the edge of your bed. Averted his eyes from your fingers and swallowed.

“Hey.” He nudged you.

You flinched with the soft intrusion and opened your eyes to look at him.

Instead of finding your touch replaced as they normally would be, you felt your fingers pried from between your thighs and clasped in both of Daryl’s hands.

Then, gently, a touch trailed down your fourth finger. Daryl stopped at the thin silver band adorning its base and wriggled it between his own forefinger and thumb.

“Can ya tell me what this is?” he murmured.

You eyed him uncertainly before looking down at the ring yourself.

“A promise ring,” you answered quietly.

“A promise to who?” Daryl pressed.

“My— uh, my future husband.”

Daryl squeezed the petite metallic flower that was melded to the ring, pressing it between his fingers as if to prove a point.

“Gettin’ hitched any time soon?” he quizzed, a hint of a smile rising to his lips.

“No, but—”

“So you’ve got this hypothetical husband you’re promisin’ yerself to, hm?” Daryl plodded on, pretending not to hear you, “And that thing yer promisin’, it must be pretty important, ain’t it?”

You rolled your eyes and started to pull away, but Daryl made sure to keep your hand locked in place. When you didn’t answer, he pushed the question again—“Sumn’ real, real special, no?”—laced with a little extra venom in his words.

This time, you were the one to feign ignorance, opting instead to shuffle back in the sheets and play stupid as you retreated into the comfort of your bed. Daryl loosened his grip, but not before he’d plucked the ring from your finger. Then he mirrored your movements and made his way up your body, proceeding to plant his hands on either side of your head on the pillow.

Somewhere in the mix, he’d taken your ring between his teeth. He displayed it proudly above you with a smile.

“C’mon, hon. Tell me,” he coaxed between gritted teeth.

When he sensed your tight-lipped pout wasn’t about to budge, he took the ring out of sight and seemed to move off of you. As it was, he simply slid down your body and toward your parted legs. You tensed.

“Daryl,” you started to plead the moment he’d descended between your knees. He was already getting comfortable.

“It’s a very simple question, Y/N,” Daryl murmured, words a bit more distorted than usual.

You couldn’t bear the sight of him teasing you there but also seemed unable to tear your gaze away. You pulled at his hair, helplessly, and had only to beg him not to play these idiotic games. Unfortunately for you, Daryl’s competitive edge had taken a hit, and he was too taken with the thrill of the challenge to heed your wishes.

His mouth had moved dangerously close to your center. You could feel each gentle puff of his lungs fan across your folds.

Then, incredibly, you watched his tongue emerge from his mouth, and, instead of delving right into your heat, he let it rest between his lips, flashing something light and shiny on its surface.

Your ring.

This sick fuck.

“Give it back,” you snapped, clamping your legs over his stupid, smirking head.

One of Daryl’s palms pushed flat against your stomach, pinning you to the mattress so you couldn’t squirm out of reach. Perhaps you should’ve fought back, but in all honesty, you were too entranced by the sight of his tongue to think much else. A whimper caught in your throat the second he made contact with your wet, swollen core.

It seemed Daryl had maneuvered your ring over the tip of his tongue and was dragging a line up your slit. Pushing the metal petals of the flower against your clit, drawing soft, placid circles, and looking you dead in the eyes all the while.

Then he dipped below to your dripping hole and pushed the ring inside of it.

Daryl lifted his head and licked his lips.

“Wanna tell me now?” he grinned.

Your mind was buzzing a million miles per minute, spinning so fast you feared you couldn’t speak, but somehow, you managed to stammer out:

“Chrysanthemums.”

You bit your lip and watched him wait for you to catch your breath. You could scarcely collect your thoughts fast enough to finish.

“The flower— i-it means fidelity, or something. Mom says the ring’s supposed to be a sign of my commitment to my husband.”

Daryl raised his eyebrows.

“And ya know just what yer committin’ to the lucky bastard?” he asked.

You shook your head. Honest, this time.

In response, Daryl moved a finger to your entrance and dragged it in a gentle circular motion, careful not to disturb the ring he’d pushed inside.

“Tha’s it,” he said, his voice almost lowered to a whisper, “Tha’s the spot, honey.”

He locked eyes with you once more, and suddenly, you understood. All the apprehension and dread, distress, and foreboding decorum surrounding that floral token. Every thinly-veiled euphemism from your mother and father and the soft, assuaging delicacies crafted to fall on deaf ears. The answer was with you all along and somehow the furthest thing from your comprehension.

“My...cherry?”

Daryl nodded and chuckled. He took the ring back on the tip of his finger and started to push it farther inside of you.

“Your virginity,” he said.

When you flinched at the feeling, Daryl straightened himself up and brought his other hand to rub your thigh. Sitting across from you now with a touch of concern straining his features.

“I won’t really touch it ‘less ya want me to,” he mumbled, eyes flickering between yours in earnest.

“You can,” you said softly, perhaps a little too quickly, “Just don’t...pop it, okay?” His previous declaration danced before your mind in flashing letters.

Daryl bit back a smile and assured you he wouldn’t.

The two of you were perched on your bed, seated face-to-face and staring down at the small space between you. Cautiously, almost, Daryl came to slide his finger further inside your body, and at the last you watched the whole thing disappear right down to the knuckle.

You waited. Daryl looked up to find your gaze, and you stared back, almost afraid to blink.

“I ain’t no doctor or nothin’,” Daryl began, slowly, “But yer cherry’s s’posed’a be up there.” He wiggled his finger to punctuate his point.

“What is it?” you breathed.

That was a good question. Daryl sat and contemplated his options, how he might politely explain things to you. In the end, he settled on saying,

“Just skin, really.”

“Skin?”

“Yeah, uh, somethin’ called a high-men, I think. Just a stretch’a skin in the middle of yer...cunt, or whatever, and, uh, I guess it gets all tore up when the—” Daryl cut his speech short, cursing himself for getting so thick in the weeds of it without the slightest idea as to how he would explain that dreaded next part.

“Tore up when? Why?” Your eyes widened.

“No, no, not tore up or nothin’—I didn’t mean it like tha’ —I’m just sayin’ it gets popped. By a...a, you know…”

“I don’t know, Daryl, tell me,” you cried, your voice already starting to shake.

Daryl slipped his finger out of your heat, floral ring and all.

This was a bad idea, he thought. You were already halfway in a panic, concocting the wildest notions in your mind of what horrors lay ahead. Daryl ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

“What pops the cherry, Daryl?” you pressed, trying to reign in your fear as you spoke.

Daryl peered down at the tiny ring atop his index finger and felt a pang of guilt. This wasn’t going how he’d planned. When his eyes wandered back to yours and first caught a glimpse of the apprehension welled up behind them, he knew he couldn’t drag this on any longer.

“Just a...guy’s, uh, private parts,” he said at last.

“The puffy stuff?” you returned promptly.

Daryl nodded, almost charmed by the term you’d given his penis, were he not so humiliated by this disaster of an anatomy lesson.

You heaved a sigh of relief and fell back on the bed.

“Thank fuck!”

Daryl shot you a curious look. Before he could ask what on earth you meant by that, you supplied him with an answer, rejoining,

“Thought you had to stick a knife up there or somethin’.”

“Why would I do that, dumbass?” Daryl’s nostrils flared.

“You tell me! You’re the one saying you’d tear me up,” you giggled.

Oh, I would, Daryl thought reflexively. He regained his composure in an instant and chided himself.

“Shit gets messy, tha’s all I meant,” he said.

You were quick to sit up again, the fear in your eyes shortly supplanted by intrigue. Inching closer to him.

“Show me how,” you grinned as your hands skimmed toward the seam of his jeans.

“Show you what?”

“How your puffy stuff works,” you said, exasperated.

“It’s a penis, Y/N!”

Daryl shot up from the bed before you could lay a finger on his crotch.

He knew you wanted to know but wasn’t quite sure you’d be pleased with what you’d see—your understanding of the male form, he’d come to realize, was even cruder than your knowledge of your own. What if you got one good look at his love gun and fled for your life?

If you were to handle it any worse than the way you’d reacted when he’d first told you his mouth wasn’t just good for talking, he’d have his work cut out for him.

At length, he grasped his belt buckle in one hand and kept your promise ring tucked snug on the other.

“If I show ya, y’promise not to scream or nothin’?”

You stood—or, rather, kneeled—at attention on the edge of the bed and nodded.

“Promise.”

“A’right then.”

Daryl had never felt so exposed, or vulnerable, taking a garment off his body. Each time he’d unbuckled himself and shoved his jeans and briefs down before, it was never to strip himself completely—just to free his cock and give him space enough to rut into whatever woman was willing to share his bed for the night. This was pushing his pants down his legs and actually stepping outside them, standing stock-still on the floor and hoping, foolishly, that you’d like the sight in front of you.

Fortunately for him, you loved it. Or, at the very least, seemed engaged.

Your lips unconsciously parted as the outline of his length came into view. You sucked in a breath. With your pupils blown wide and your mouth hanging open, drool liable to spill out any second, Daryl reckoned you looked a bit obscene. He liked it.

He was palming himself over his briefs in gentle strokes, taking his damn sweet time as he took a couple steps closer to you.

“Now tell me what this is called,” he said, watching you ogle every inch.

“A cock,” you answered.

Daryl almost choked on his spit. What happened to “puffy stuff” and all the rest of your innocent paranyms? Where the hell did you learn the word—

“Cock?” Daryl repeated.

“Yeah, like a rooster.” Smiling sweetly up at him.

“Who taught ya tha’ word?” Daryl’s voice broke out a little harsher than he intended, such that your smile came to fade, but he quickly repaired it with a brush of his knuckles on your cheek.

“You did, Dar,” you said, at the last.

“Me?”

“You’re always grabbin’ your junk and tellin’ people to suck your cock, I just figured—”

“Ah. Right.”

Daryl made a mental note not to get so shitfaced when you were around. And maybe educate you on the subject of blowjobs in a more delicate way, at a later date. For now, his focus was just on showing you his penis and hoping you wouldn’t run screaming.

By the looks of it, though, he didn’t suspect you’d have that problem. You quickly resumed your perch on the edge of the bed, staring and salivating at his clothed erection like it was the finest thing you’d ever seen.

Except you hadn’t seen it yet. Daryl was just then starting to hook his fingers under the waistband of his shorts and pull them down, all while watching for your first reactions.

When you saw small tufts of hair stemming from the base of his abdomen, you felt relief flood through you—thank goodness he had those too—and then the place underneath it was…something else entirely. The two of you shared similar patches of hair, and that was about it. In the place of a broad, empty plane of skin, you found a thick, reddish appendage. It was strange. The further Daryl tugged his briefs down his legs, the more you grew in your curiosity, ‘til the whole thing took you by surprise and snapped up against his stomach.

You saw the full length of his cock and almost couldn’t believe your eyes.

“You wanna put that whole thing inside me?” you said without thinking.

That hadn’t been quite the reaction Daryl had been expecting, but he’d take it over shrieking and fleeing any day of the week. He eyed you with an unusually amused look and nodded.

“Whole thing,” he repeated.

You gave him one last skeptical look before nodding too, seeming to accept your fate. You scooted back in the bed and squeezed your eyes shut as you started to spread your legs in a supine position.

“Go on then,” you said, “Let’s get this over with.”

This time, Daryl’s amusement materialized in an outright laugh, and he came crawling up beside you in bed. Then he climbed on top of you and nudged your nose with his, ‘til eventually you opened your eyes again.

“That ain’t how it works, sunshine.”

You glanced down at the fiery pink, worm-like attachment poking up between your bodies and wanted to hide. Not so much because the sight of it frightened you but because you couldn’t fathom it fitting inside your body—and actually feeling good. You thought back to the words your mother had once used to describe that ugly, loathsome process of pleasing your husband and couldn’t imagine this was something any woman wanted to do. Maybe Daryl had had you duped all along to think any differently.

A swell of heat rose to your cheeks when Daryl dropped his hand between your legs.

“See— yer gonna spread these pretty things and let me go back down for a bit,” he said, already sliding toward the foot of the bed with a smirk, “Need ya nice and wet, a’right?”

You grabbed his arms before he could go any further.

“No,” you shook your head fiercely. Then, seeing the look of confusion on his face, adding, “I-I need you up here. With me.”

Daryl nodded in understanding. He kept his fingers brushing light against your inner thigh and looked you deep in the eyes.

“We can do whatever y’want. ‘S’all up to you, hon.”

He paused to bring his hand back up to your line of vision, holding your tiny ring on the tip of his finger. Wordlessly, it seemed, asking for your permission. You regarded the thing for a few seconds or more, while he watched you, and eventually, your gaze flickered back to his. You left the band where it was.

“Keep it,” you murmured.

“Honey, I can’t—”

Daryl was already starting to pull the ring off in protest, but you stalled his hands. Grasping them, momentarily, and holding them between you two.

“I want you to have it,” you said, smiling, “Want you to wear it right here.”

You reached up and tugged the thin silver chain dangling from Daryl’s neck. He looked down, confused.

You didn’t give him the chance to say another word. Reaching behind his head for the little metal clasp, you unhooked it swiftly and took the necklace in your hands. Made quick work of the ring and slipped it onto the chain, eyed it for a moment, then held it back up to him. Before Daryl could blink, you’d moved to re-secure the clasp around his neck and pulled the spindly metal strand to the front. Now the necklace hung a bit heavier on his chest with the weight of your ring strung across it.

Your name just then started to bubble to the surface of Daryl’s lips, but you leaned in and kissed him before the sound ever reached you.

“Yours,” you mumbled, kissing him softly.

Daryl kissed you back and held you tight. He stifled a groan when your legs came to wrap around his waist.

“Ye sure, honey?” he breathed, hardly able to string words together as the blood surged straight to his cock.

You giggled at the sights and sensations your new position afforded you, feeling Daryl’s throbbing member against your heat and seeing him fight every urge to push it forward. This felt easier, somehow, just pressed to each other’s bodies while your limbs tangled together in the sheets.

Daryl kissed your forehead. Lowered his hips so his swollen, leaking cock came to rest between your folds.

Instead of recoiling or contorting your features in a fearful wince, you moaned. You felt your body move against him and spread your arousal up and down his shaft. Eyes half-hooded with pleasure, you rolled your hips and raked your fingers down his back, and Daryl swore he could’ve cum from the sight of that alone.

You didn’t know what the hell you were doing; you just hoped it was something he liked.

When he reached for your chin and brought you in for a kiss, deeper and more desperate than you’d ever seen before, you felt a twinge of pride—closely accompanied by a wave of desire. You opened your mouth in an effort to moan again and were welcomed instead by Daryl’s slick, roaming tongue.

There was a strange sort of pressure between your legs. Something prodding you softly, keen to breach the threshold of your entrance but stopping short every time. You glanced between your bodies and saw Daryl gripping his cock like a vice down below.

“Honey, I— fuck,” his voice broke off in a moan, skimming the head of his cock down your slit, “I don’t wan’ this to hurt.”

You placed a kiss on the side of his mouth and nuzzled your nose against the stubble residing around it.

“It won’t,” you whispered. In truth, you were clueless.

Daryl shook his head, straining with the weight of his body above you. There was something he’d missed, something he needed to tell you before the two of you took things any further. It seemed that somewhere along the line, his mind had hardened to an opaque wall of lust, and he couldn’t retrieve a single thought. All he could do now was peer down into your wide, glossy eyes and pine for you, all impulses escaping him but the singular urge to make you his.

“I want you,” you said, softly, “all the way inside me.”

You took the tiny metallic chrysanthemum dangling above you—your promise ring that was presently hanging from Daryl’s chain—between your lips, and sucked it in a little. Remembering how much he loved to watch you take things on the tongue and roll it around in your mouth, you did just that and kept your eyes locked on his all the while. You slipped the tip of your tongue through the ring, just as Daryl had, and brought it right back into your mouth. You moaned at the taste, your juices still coating the band.

Your silent invitation wasn’t lost on Daryl in the slightest. In a second, his lips were back on yours, snagging the ring between your two mouths in a hot, frantic kiss, and the pressure at your core jumped to new heights as the head of his cock split you open.

Daryl hadn’t been with a virgin before. He thought the process of “breaking” one in and popping the cherry, so to speak, was meant to be taken literally, so he shoved himself in to the hilt in one forceful thrust.

“Fuck!” you said in unison, for two drastically different reasons.

He seemed on the brink of orgasm and you, the brink of tears, clawing at his back and trying not to cry.

The second Daryl saw your agonized expression, he panicked and pulled right out, but the force of the friction only amplified the pain. You clutched the sheets beside you and tried to stifle your whimpers, suddenly fearful for your parents’ hearing.

“Fuckin’ A,” you hissed, “I thought we were going slow!”

“I-I’m sorry— I thought that’s what I was s’posed’a do.”

“You said pop the cherry, not stab it to death.”

In spite of the ache inside you, you managed a playful look up at him and even giggled when he started flooding your face with little kisses. ‘I’m sorry’s tumbling just as profusely from his lips, repeated over and over ‘til you were begging him to let up and get back between your legs already.

Daryl eased himself down more carefully this time. He cradled your head in his arms and seemed almost loath to push himself inside you again. It wasn’t until you nodded your assent that he stirred his hips at all, taking a painstakingly slow approach to breaching your folds.

You felt the tip of his cock graze your entrance. Rub lightly up and down your slit to collect more of your juices.

“Tha’s a good fuckin’ girl,” Daryl growled, overwhelmed by the warmth of your arousal pooling around his cock. Remembering his position, however, he refrained from going any further.

“Is it wet enough?” you murmured.

“Uh-huh,” Daryl panted, gripping the sheets beside your head to keep from moving before you were ready. Then, softly, “I’ll be gentler this time, I promise, baby.”

You spread your legs a little wider and nodded. Dug your heels into his lower back to try to ease him in. Daryl readily aided your efforts and started pressing the head of his cock to the edge of your tight, aching hole.

He couldn’t have penetrated you any gentler if he tried. In spite of how wet you were, there still came a sting, and you seized his forearms the farther he pushed. Only this time Daryl was all eyes, watching and waiting and looking you up and down like another inch of his length might tear you in two. He sponged wet kisses up and down your jaw and hoped the brush of his lips would come as a welcome distraction from whatever discomfort you were suffering below.

Moreover, he found that talking you through it helped loosen your muscles. Whether you were aware of it or not, your were clenching hard on his cock, scarcely taking him more than an inch and unlikely to allow him any further if your walls stayed this rigid. Daryl started stroking your hair.

“So good f’me. So nice an’ sweet takin’ this cock,” he said, tone as tender as it had ever been.

You grimaced at the intrusion of another inch and held the back of his neck between your two hands even tighter. Daryl lowered his head to kiss you again.

“Sweetest thing I ever seen.” He pulled away to marvel at you, all flushed cheeks and quiet sighs.

It was clear you were just trying to survive with your consciousness intact, too focused on breathing and easing him in to think much else, so he nudged your chin to mumble even more quietly, “S’all gonna be okay, hon. I’m right here for ya.”

“Oh, I feel ya here. I know,” you quipped between labored breaths.

Before you could venture a smirk, you felt your walls start to pulse. The gentle throb of your warmth beckoned Daryl further into your cunt, and the two of you moaned at the sensation.

Your eyes shuttered closed, while Daryl’s drifted down below.

“Sonovabitch,” he said in a breath.

His gaze came to a stop and stayed glued on one small, absurd sight in particular: a bulge along your stomach.

He almost couldn’t believe what he was seeing until he withdrew his length a little and saw the swell follow his movement. He watched the outline of his cock protrude from your belly, ran his fingers over the mound, and rutted his hips again, this time feeling it move under his own hand. Daryl was beside himself.

He placed his palm over the spot and pressed hard. He thrusted back and forth and heard a string of expletives sound beneath him as your eyes snapped open.

“Fuck, Daryl,” you whined, “What is that?”

“Cunt’s barely able to keep me in, I’m pokin’ out yer belly.” Daryl would’ve chuckled if he weren’t so violently aroused.

You threw your head back on the pillow and moaned. This new, added pressure above your stomach somehow made things better for you, like a spot inside was getting just the kind of touching it needed. You squirmed against Daryl and felt him bottom out inside you.

The two of you were watching it now, forehead to forehead—Daryl’s fingers spread across your tummy and the heel of his palm digging deep in that mound, your bodies making wet, squelching sounds again and again, and your pussy, for the first time, swallowing him whole. Daryl quickened his pace to an almost vicious cadence and brought his free hand to cup your face.

He jerked your head even closer, fingers knotting tight in your hair, “See this?”

You were barely able to nod as a knot of pleasure was just then starting to form in your stomach.

Daryl wasn’t having it. You felt his nails dig a set of white, angry crescents in your neck as he pulled your hair even harder.

“Big girl words, darlin’— use ‘em.”

You yelped when he yanked your head up to meet his gaze and shook you with a particularly brutal thrust down below.

“I see it!” you shrilled.

Daryl’s hand slipped from the back of your head and took your face in one pinch—almost crushing both cheeks and squeezing your lips in a ridiculous pout to look up at him. Then he smiled, sweet as ever, and placed a light kiss on your mouth.

“Are you a— a woman of yer word?” he asked.

His thrusts continued at breakneck speed. You whined.

“Huh?”

“Keep promises ya make?”

Daryl smiled even wider as he watched you come unraveled before his eyes. One hand placed on your stomach and the other still gripping your face, he made his merciless rounds and savored every last throb of your walls as he pounded you into the mattress. He knew those whines, could sense that that hold on his cock wasn’t just for show. You were close, and dangerously so.

You could scarcely speak above the buzz in your ears but managed to answer in the affirmative.

“Good,” Daryl cooed in your ear, “It’s settled, then.”

If you weren’t mere seconds from your release you would’ve told him that you couldn’t quite understand him with his head so far up his ass. The man was a Grade A prick when it came to telling riddles and senseless tales at the most inopportune times, but this one really took the cake.

Fortunately, Daryl proceeded without requesting any further input from you. He just pistoned his hips, pressed on your belly, and squeezed your cheeks even tighter as he continued on in a casual tone,

“Gonna cum all over this cock?”

You moaned and said you would.

Your legs tightened around Daryl’s waist as he groaned above you and slammed into you even harder.

“Gonna be my good little girl?” he growled, dropping his hand from your face to rub circles on your clit.

You shrieked and swore you would.

Daryl continued to rut his hips and nudge you closer and closer to the cusp of your release, eyes never leaving you. With each ruthless thrust, you felt the knot inside you double in size and send tremors straight down through your thighs, and the only thing keeping you grounded in place, it seemed, was Daryl. He grinned.

Then he leaned even closer, forced your legs even wider, and fucked you faster than he ever had before,

“Gonna be my good little wife one day?”

His words had barely registered before something inside you burst, and you went moaning, writhing, screaming on Daryl’s cock as your orgasm tore through your body. More powerful than any feeling Daryl’s tongue had wrought from you before, this was pure, primal ecstasy. You feared you might actually draw blood from his back with the slash of your fingernails down his skin.

Your body fell limp in the bed. You would’ve liked nothing more than for Daryl to keeping moaning and pumping in your blissful, fucked-out state, but it seemed the man had plans of his own. To your surprise, he jolted out of you a moment later and seized his cock in one hand, wringing it out in the roughest, most slipshod fashion. Daryl let out a long, protracted moan and jerked himself over and over.

Ropes of a milky white fluid sprayed your stomach.

Your eyes widened at the sight, as did Daryl’s. Though his grew not for want of understanding but rather realizing that thing he’d forgotten to tell you earlier.

Babies.

“Shit,” he hissed, already lowering both hands to wipe the stuff off your belly.

You were frozen in place and eyeing the foreign goo like it was the most frightening thing in existence.

“W-What the fuck is—” you said, only to be cut short.

This time, both of you seized with horror as a knock sounded on your bedroom door. Daryl, actively caught cum-handed, had little more to do than dive under the covers while you flailed your limbs and tried to collect every last pillow around you.

Your duvet was thick. Pillows and plush toys aplenty. You could only hope Daryl would keep his long legs bent at the knee and his two feet from sticking out at the end of the bed. Your eyes darted to the door as it opened.

“Hi, mom,” you chirped.

“Hey, pumpkin.”

Your mother paced the few short steps into your room and toward your bed, a warm smile on her face.

“Boogeyman keepin’ you up?” she teased.

You reckoned you thought of Daryl a little more fondly than that, but your mom wasn’t too far off-target.

“All night,” you answered.

Your legs shuddered under the sheets as Daryl nudged your red and fucked-raw pussy with his nose. Clearly not amused.

Then, as your mom had long been accustomed to do, she reached out for your forehead and brushed your hair from your face. Planted a kiss at the top of your head.

“Well tell him to knock it off, because you’ve got a big, big day tomorrow,” she said, crossing her arms as she stood off to the side of your bed.

French lessons from one of your father’s friends and supper club with the girls. Riveting stuff.

You opened your mouth to say something in reply, but your mother was evidently keen to continue,

“Now I know you’ve got a lot on your plate—”

You stifled a whimper when the nose that Daryl had used to brush against your cunt was presently replaced by his tongue. Licking a calm, lazy strip up your slit as the rest of your mom’s speech reached you in a garble.

Slyly, you lowered a hand to the head of hair that was occupying the space between your legs and yanked a clump of it. Silently begging Daryl to cut the bullshit games before both of you got caught.

Daryl would do no such thing. He continued to flick the tip of his tongue across your heat before closing his lips around your clit, sucking gently.

“—missing for a day at least. Maybe even—”

You swallowed and nodded your head, trying to shield your mother from the fact that you and your newly-popped cherry were getting the tonguebath of a lifetime under the covers. Daryl had somehow managed to bring a hand up to your heat and was currently pumping his middle and ring fingers in and out of your hole at a brutal speed.

It wasn’t until your mom said one word in particular that either of you perked up and stopped what you were doing.

“—Dixon—” your mom babbled on until you broke in,

“Who?”

“Daryl Dixon. Went MIA and his brother’s worried sick. Found his crossbow in our backyard a little while ago, was just wondering if you’d seen him.”

Your stomach twisted. Daryl’s fingers stalled inside you.

“No ma’am, I-I haven’t,” you squeaked.

Daryl bit your thigh as if to say, “Liar.”

“Alrighty then, just checkin’.” Your mom clasped her hands together and turned on her heels, “He should turn up sooner or later. Get some sleep now, sweetheart.”

The door closing behind her was like music to your ears.

As soon as it shut, Daryl threw the duvet off and licked his lips in a smirk.

“You fucker!” you bit.

“You liar,” he sneered, climbing back on top of you quick. Careful to avoid the half-dried puddle of semen on your stomach.

“Hey, you never told me what this w—”

“Cum. Stuff I’m gonna shoot in yer belly, not on it, when yer good ‘n ready to have my babies,” Daryl grinned.

Ready? For babies? Your mind was still reeling from the absurdity of your previous predicament, heart all but beating out your chest, and this man remained totally unperturbed. Talking about breeding, of all things.

“There will be no babies had between us, Daryl,” you snapped, “That’s a husband privilege, and like you said, I’m not gettin’ hitched any time soon.”

The smile from Daryl’s face didn’t falter. He just leaned forward and gave you a look as if to say he knew better.

“Thought y’said you were a woman of yer word,” Daryl seemed to taunt as he ran a hand up your calf.

You didn’t bother to swat it away, just shot him a glare and muttered, “I am.”

“You are?”

Daryl moved in, a hint of a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Before you could say another word, you watched him hook one thumb in the ring that hung from his neck. Slid it back and forth across the chain and observed your eyes in wordless amusement as they followed its gentle path.

“You said—” Daryl started.

“Did not,” you returned.

“—and promised you’d—”

Your cheeks grew enflamed with a fierce, angry blush. There was no fucking way he wanted you to—

“Save it for your husband,” Daryl said, still flashing that shit-eating smile as he brought the ring between his lips once more, “And you gave it to me.”

This was undoubtedly the most deranged marriage proposal you’d heard in your life.

You rolled your eyes and reached for your promise ring now pinched between his teeth, ready to yank it off the chain altogether, when another intrusion sent you scrambling for the sheets.

Your bedroom door opened for a second time that night—this time to reveal your mother and father at the threshold of your room, stepping in without a knock.

“Hey pumpkin, I—”

“Shit.”

You ducked behind Daryl, and Daryl chucked the last droplets of cum off his hands in a flash.

You looked at him, he looked at you, and your parents stood terrified, staring at you both.

When Daryl’s gaze flitted up, you saw his jaw slacken considerably as his eyes fell on your father for the first time. The next thing you knew, your ring was trembling out of his mouth, his whole face draining of color. He swallowed, almost seemed to choke on his spit as his throat tightened up, and suddenly he was speaking, stammering, quietly, pupils blown wide in pure horror:

“Mr. Grimes, it’s not what it looks like.”

[pixie-ass]

Change

•🩰🎀🩷•

Summary: Y/n is a loner but loves ballet but her family doesn’t have enough money for her to dance at the studio, Daryl is a redneck who hates people and prefers bikes, until one day these two run into eachother and their lives change drastically, will Daryl toughen her up? Will y/n soften Daryl? Or both? How will things go when people start coming back from the dead

Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon x f!reader

A/n: This is going to be a series, it’s gonna start with how they met eachother and their lives before the apocalypse, eventually it’ll blend with twd story line!!

•Masterlist•

I’ve always wanted to dance, to strap on pretty pink ballet slippers and wear the tights and everything, ever since I was a little girl and first watch Swan Lake, watching how there was a light beautiful side but how also a dark side to a person it hooked me, but that dream was quickly crushed when my parents refused, saying they didn’t have enough money to put me in ballet because my older brothers football was more important and they couldn’t afford both at once

It’s always been like that, whatever my brother wanted he’d get within a reasonable price, but when I asked for the simplest things they would get mad and always turn me down, saying I should get a job if I ever wanted anything. So that’s exactly what I did, I got a waitressing job at the little diner in town, working after school and on weekends just hoping to be able to save enough for ballet classes, but balancing school and work everyday is exhausting and having a terrible home life ontop of that doesn’t help

My older coworker told me to make some friends and that might help things, help distract myself for a while and have a person to relay on for once but it wasn’t so simple, if you weren’t drop dead gorgeous, or had nice clothes and money in my school then the girls treated you like a ghost

So here I am sat at my usual bench under the wilting tree behind the school for lunch, sitting in the cafeteria all alone at a whole table felt pathetic, embarrasing, plus it was more comforting here, no pry judgemental eyes, plus the air out here smelt of fall, fallen crisp leaves, the towns forest right behind the school, it was comforting

I finished my lunch putting the book I was ready away in my bag and made my way back for my next class, biology and today we were getting a new seating arrangement, one I’ve been waiting for the whole month since I was sat next to one of the mean girls, I took my seat right as the bell rang

“Okay class today we are moving around, so find your spots” she said as she projected the new seating up on the board, I found my name at the second table to the back on the left, I made my way noticing I was sat with Daryl Dixon. He was quiet, usually kept to himself kind of like me, people would always talk bad about him but never dared say anything if his older brother was around, I remember the times my brother would complain about how obnoxious Merle Dixon was….as if he wasn’t the exact same

I plopped down next to him taking out my books and pencil case

“Hi”

“Hey” he said keeping his eyes on the table

That’s all we said to each other the whole period until the end of class

“Okay everyone, whoever you’re sitting with is now going to be your new lab partner, you’ll be working on this project together outside of class and it’ll be due at the end of next week, so I advise you figure out a time and place to work on this” she said as she handed out papers seeing it was a project on the cycle of frogs and their habitats

There was 10 minutes left in class for us to figure out how to get this project done, I turned in my seat looking at Daryl, up close I noticed he was actually kinda cute in a mysterious way

“Would you like to come to my house tomorrow so we can work on it?” I asked as tomorrow was Saturday

“Sure” I wrote down my address and gave it to him right when the bell rang

I was getting ready for Daryl to come over, I don’t know why I was so nervous maybe because I’ve never really had many people over and that my parents and brother were psychotic and mean and I didn’t want him to witness that. I looked in the mirror brushing out my hair that I’ve combed through a hundred times already, hoping my outfit was nice enough, a whiteish sweatshirt that had a hint of blush pink to it, paired with black leggings just wanting to be comfortable but hopefully still cute, that’s when I heard a knock at the door

“ILL GET IT!” I screamed not wanting anyone else to answer especially not my brother since he knew Daryl was Merle’s brother

I stood infront of the closed door huffing out a breath to calm my jitters, I opened it and there he stood, hands in pockets with his usual gruff demeanor

“Come in” I said stepping aside for him to come in

“Do you wanna work in my room?”

“Sure” he said as he kicked off his shoes

I lead the way to my room, it wasn’t a big house so it wasn’t like we had to go down hallways to get to my room, I closed the door when we got in as he dropped his notebook on my bed looking around my room which made me anxious, my walls had little framed photos of Swan Lake, little painting of ballet slippers, my room wasn’t much since my parents put so much into Jackson’s room but these photos were all I had to keep me happy

“Nice room” he said with a smirk

“You don’t have to lie” I said smiling as I crawled on my bed sitting up against the head board as he followed to sit at the foot of the bed

“I ain’t, it’s…..different, do ya dance?” He asked looking back to the pictures I adored

“No, I’ve always dreamed of it though”

He looked at me with a strange look I couldn’t read

“Well why don’t ya?”

“My parents won’t let me, said Jackson football is my important and will lead to something” I said shrugging my shoulders, if anyone could understand brother problems it would be him

His usual glaring eyes softened but I didn’t want the pity, I thought about my crushed dream enough I didn’t want to think about it more so I flipped open the text book to the section we needed and we got to work, it was silent for the most part and I welcomed it, until we took a break

“Merle says yer brother is always runnin his mouth, talks bad about ya” my heart thumped in my chest, Jackson could say anything about me and I’d have no way to deny it since no one really liked me and he had his whole football team full of guys who only thought with one thing

“What does he say?” I asked nervously

“Says yer a weirdo, says ya run around sleepin with every guy on his football team” my heart felt like it stopped and shrivelled up

“What……..I would never, I can’t believe he would say that, I don’t know why he hates me so much” I said as my bottom lip quivered try to control myself, not wanting to cry infront of him and make him uncomfortable

“Merle an I, we don’t believe ‘em……..plus it ain’t like everyone else in that damn school ain’t like that” he said looking back down at his note book, fidgeting with his pencil

“It would be better if I had friends that would believe me and be on my side” I said huffing a little sarcastic laugh

“I can be yer friend” he said so quietly I almost didn’t hear him

“You don’t have to pity me, I know you don’t like people” he looked back up at me with he glaring expression but for some reason it didn’t bother me

“I ain’t pitying ya, yer one of the few people that don’t annoy me at school, yer nice and keep to yer self” he said bluntly making my heart flutter

“Okay, I’d like to be friends then!” I said smiling as we both went back to work

After 2 hours of going back and forth working and talking we got the project done, I led him to the door standing there as he laced up his shoes, I opened the door as he stood back up

“So uhh, ya wanna hang out again tomorrow?” He asked gripping his backpack strap

“Sure, I have a shift at the diner in the morning but you can come by and we can eat there after I’m done, I get a discount!” I said excited

“Sounds good” he said about to leave before I stopped him

“Wait, here’s my number, it’s for my room phone so you can call anytime if you want” I said handing him a piece of paper with my number

“I’ll call ya later then, see ya” he said in his gruff voice as he left watching him disappear up the side walk

It was the next day and I was almost done my shift, I’d covered a lot of tables and was now just wiping down the counter waiting to see Daryl walk through the door, the door bell chimed and I looked up excited but instead it was Jackson and some of his football team members, they came in loud and obnoxious as usual

They came to the counter, filling three seats along the counter

“Jackson what are you doing here?” I asked putting down the rag I was using

“Oh come on sis we’re just hungry” he said sarcastically as his friends laughed with him

I sighed taking out my pad “well what do you wanted?”

“I wanna see you bent over my truck” his friend said, I was disgusted but I wasn’t good with this kind of thing

“Cute little thing like you mmmmm, what I wouldn’t do” his other friend said

I was beyond embarrased I just wish someone could help me, and as if my prayers were answered someone came in to intervene

“Leave er alone jackasses” I looked down to a seat further down the counter seeing it was Daryl, he must have just came in

“Oh ya and what’re you gonna do Dixon?”

“Just get outta here” he said sending a glare that could kill, they huffed and got up with a commotion

“Whatever, we’ll see you around bitch” they said to me before they left, I made my way to where Daryl was seated my face felt so hot

“Sorry you had to see that?” I said giving him a glass of water

“Do they do that often?”

“Ya usually when I’m working on the weekend, they think it’s funny”

“I can get Merle, set them straight” he said making me smile

“Nah it’s not your problem but thank you, I’m kinda use to it by now, even though it incredibly embarrassing” I said covering my cheeks

“Anyways, I’m done now so I’ll go clock out and be right back” I said trying to change the subject, I walked to the back taking of my waist apron and got my purse

“You done for the day sweetie?” My older coworker May asked

“Yeah, but me and my friend are going to have some lunch here”

Her eyes lit up “Friend? Did you finally manage to snatch someone up” she said twirling her pen as she smacked on her cherry gum she always had in her mouth

“Yes, he’s just easy to be around”

“HE?”

“Yes May my friend is a boy don’t get all crazy, but he’s waiting so I have to go before he thinks I left” I said blushing as I went back out and sat next to him at the counter

May took our orders and left to attend to the other few customers that were still here

“So why do ya work here?” He asked

“My parents said if I ever wanted anything I needed to get my own money, plus I’m trying to save to be able to afford ballet classes, it may be stupid but it’s my dream”

“It ain’t stupid, yer workin fer what ya want, I get that” his voice was kind but the grumble to it made me tingle

“Thanks, do you work anywhere?” I asked as May gave us our meals, my strawberry milkshake and grilled cheese, and Daryl’s coke with a burger and fries

“Sometimes I work on fixin people’s bikes ‘round town ta make some extra money, Merle said I’d make more if I did what he did but I don’t wanna fall into that crowd” I knew what Merle did, the whole town did

“Maybe one day we can get outta this town where people won’t judge us and we can have actual good jobs”

“Ya maybe”

With that we silently ate our food until we finished and May gave us our checks with my discount then we were leaving heading the door bell chime

We walked down to my house as neither of us had cars, until we stopped infront of the house awkwardly

“Lunch was nice, thanks for coming bye, you can come anytime”

“ ‘course, I’ll……I’ll see ya tomorrow then?”

“Ya I’ll see you tomorrow Daryl” I said smiling as we went separate ways, I closed the door to the house my heart thumping against my chest

I finally had a friend

Part.2

This will be a series so if you like to be added to the taglist and get notified of the next part comment below!!:)

Taglist: @deansapplepie

[pixie-ass]

Could you possibly do a moodboard or fic of young!daryl x reader and its their senior prom plss

Prom w/ Daryl Dixon - moodboard and blurb

a/n - absolutely. living through this since i didn’t get a prom </3 (went for a late 90’s vibe since that’s when prom was most aesthetic)

warnings- slightly angsty, mentions of daryl’s father and merle, fluffy, intentional lowercase

it would be hard to convince daryl to go to prom, but after thrifting an old black suit and some chunky metal rings, he would reluctantly agree to go.

you’d bring him over to your place since you knew his dad and merle would be at his home; fresh bruises wouldn’t match his suit and being mocked by merle would convince daryl that prom wasn’t made for guys like him.

he would be standing in your mirror, pulling at the slightly itchy neckline of the old suit, when you walk into frame wearing a dress that he could only describe as ethereal.

“i picked it ‘cause it matches your eyes,” you say while blushing and looking at the floor, “do you like it?”

he turns from the mirror and smiles one of his rare, genuine smiles, “ya look beautiful.”

the rest of the night is spent dancing to songs that neither of you liked, and stealing kisses any chance you could get.

neither of you won prom king or queen, but you expected that.

after prom, eating at a cheap 24 hour diner that had only 2 employees, you pull a plastic crown out of your bag. “saw this at the thrift store and had to get it for you,” you say while plopping it on his head, “had to let you know that you’re my prom king.”

he blushes and chuckles at you. “stop.”

you both fall asleep together that night with smiles on your faces.

[pixie-ass]

"Riding around the block with you, it's so autumn, just like a dream come true"