#I guess this is more than fanfiction now

[nekko-astrocat]

769...773...777...781...

No 779. Where was it? 776, and 782. Not across the street. 785, not out of order either.

Adelon lifted the tag on the backpack towards the streetlamp to check the address again.

779 Cherry Street, Honesty Washington. A neatly written address on a tag telling any who found the backpack to return it to its owner, the Astral Cat Tavern.

How a tavern had lost a backpack on the other side of the country was beyond Adelon. All he knew was he had been on this crusade of curiosity too long to give up now.

Turning back to the houses. 777, then 781. Not just that, but this was the middle of a street in the suburbs. Every house eerily similar in appearance with its neighbors. One would think a tavern here would be easier to see than a flare over the open sea on a calm night.

Adelon stood and stared into the darkness between the houses for a time, until the moon peeked from behind the clouds to see what he was staring at.

A sparkle of silver drew Adelon's focus back to the tag. Where the moonlight touched it, a set of silver symbols was beginning to appear.

Adelon placed the tag further within the grasp of the moon, revealing the secret writing. As Adalon tried to understand the strange symbols a bubble of odd and twisting energy built up inside his chest. Then it floated up his throat and burst, releasing an unspeakable word of an unknowable realm from his lips.

A soft yellow glow joins the midnight lighting. Adelon turned to look, to see which house awoke. As his eyes began to search the newly lit window for life a sign flickered with beckoning light. Neon blue creating a circular pattern in the window, then one by one as if each had to be lit with its own switch neon red numbers came to life. 7...7...9.

Leaving the street lamp behind Adelon shouldered the bag and made his way across the moonlit street to the darkened doorway that stood at the end of his crusade.

The door was heavy and wooden. An icon of a cat sat in faded paint upon it, watching Adelon's approach. It had two pure white eyes and what appeared to be a pale four pointed star on its forehead. Its tail, wrapped around its feet, a twin-split appendage.

No handle was present on the door, and the stare of the icon warned one against the rapping of knuckles upon its head. Instead, once more, the alien word writhed and floated up through Adelon's chest. As if a password to a hidden world beyond. No sooner had the word wrenched itself from him again, the door opened, granting Adelon entry to the building.

Beyond the open portal was a room with a scattering of empty tables and an unmanned bar. An array of strangely colored bottles and liquid resting on shelves and in tubes.

"Hello?"

A hesitant greeting paired with the creaking of wooden floorboards announced Adelon's entry.

He weaved through the tables and chairs as he looked around for any signs of life.

"We're not open yet."

Adelon whirled to spot the owner of the rumbling voice but saw only a purple cat sat upon the bar. Its tails wrapped around its feet as it stared at Adelon with shimmering yellow eyes.

Adelon stared at the living icon from the door. Then called out once more into the hostless bar as he closed the distance to the cat.

"I found your bag!"

Adelon shifted the bag from his shoulder to the bar-top as the cat-like creature stared at him unblinking. No sign of the person who had spoken before.

Adelon stared back into the yellow orbs and blinked when he realized the black pupils were four-pointed stars. As he blinked and backed away a little, those eyes shifted to the backpack and narrowed into crosshairs.

Then it moved, and as it moved it rumbled, and is it rumbled the voice spoke again.

"Thank you. It took more time to come back then usual."

Adelon stood frozen for a moment as he realized the rumbling voice came from the cat-thing.

It sniffed the bag, satisfying its own curiosity.

"Seems you've traveled a fair distance, there and back again," the cat addressed the bag.

Adelon stabbed at the opportunity to regain his grasp on the moment.

"I found it under a bench at a bus station on the other side of the country."

The pale gaze returned to him briefly before a nod acknowledged his addition. Then the twin-tail dipped below the bar and returned with a silver bell in its grasp.

"I didn't open it," Adelon added trying to chop at the silence, "it doesn't really have a zipper so I couldn't even if I had wanted to... so..."

Adelon was unsure of how to speak with the animalistic creature.

The cat nodded, again.

The tails flicked toward the backpack. The bell, when rung reverberated and echoed, it's metallic tone seeming to travel through time more than space. It started low then rose to a high-pitched 'ting-ting' before returning to its lower pitch as if a temporal doppler had carried it to this specific moment.

As the sound struck across time-space, the bag began to twist and writhe before unzipping in a burst of motion at the height of the bells ring.

Bone white marionette pieces flew from the backpack onto the floor, and their shadow gave aggressive chase as they clattered between the chairs. The shadow zipped over them, gathering them up within it's darkness.

As it tumbled to a stop with all its parts recovered, the shadow turned and hissed at the two observers. A panther-like face providing a maw for the radio static roar to emerge from.

The tails flicked the bell again, causing the ting-ting to echo back across time into this new moment.

The shadow-creature pulled away from the sound, then up into a standing position. The clicking sounds of marionette pieces being fitted together accompanying the shift from predator to person.

A woman with ebony skin and hair like black sheep's wool wore the darkness like a velvet dress and silken shawl.

"Naut." She referred to the cat.

"Lucy Bell." it purred the name in reply.

"Sorry for running away for so long. I just wanted to get out and see some places."

A pause between the shadow's speaking and the rumbling replies.

"Good places can be just as soothing for the soul as good people." The cat rose to walk across the bar again and gave Adelon a side eye as it spoke.

Lucy Bell's steps clacked as she rushed to take her place behind the bar. Her hair sinched into a bun with a pull of black ribbons, her dress sewing itself into a suit-vest, shirt, and pants as she took her position on Naut's right hand.

"Take a seat, stranger."

The twin-tails swept in the direction of a stool before wrapping around the feet of the cat once more.

Adelon sat.

Naut smelled his hands.

"You smell faintly of squid, boy. Squid and blood."

The crosshairs focused on him for a moment before expanding into stars.

"Have you ever tried unicorn's blood?"

The tails slithered away, as Adelon shook his head slowly. A third tail appeared to assist with carrying a bottle into the hands of Lucy Bell.

An ice-filled glass settled on the bar-top and a metallic pink liquid shimmering with glitter filled it. A graceful hand placed a garnish of blue butterfly wings in the place of an umbrella.

A tail pushed the drink to Adelon.

"As thanks for a good deed done. Welcome to the Astral Cat Tavern, friend."

[cy-fi-theansweris42]

So @keferon's Empurata Prowl posts are living rent-free in my mind, lol. I just had to write out the scene from this post so look out for the angst below the cut!

(Tumblr please don't kill my formatting--)

There's someone in front of him.

Prowl doesn't dare make a move, doesn't dare let the mech in front of him know he's awake and aware now. Doing so runs the risk of them putting him under again if they're an enemy, removing all possibility of escape (awake the chance is small; 25%. Unconscious— he doesn't need to run those numbers to know it's zero).

He will not lose this chance.

He waits, hoping his vision will improve enough that he can see more than the darkened silhouette moving in front of him, that his hearing will lose the staticky quality it took on the moment he regained consciousness and he might recognize a voice. It's taking every ounce of willpower he has to keep his doorwings from fluttering ever so slightly to gather data on his surroundings.

It's taking everything in him not to run away as the restraints are undone, to keep his doorwings from flaring high and wide to scream stay away, danger, threat in a way that a small buried part of him wants to scream.

(He will ignore that part. Emotions have no place in trying to plan an escape. Fear can cause one to act too soon, to lash out when they should be biding their time waiting for the moment with the highest chance of escape. Tactically, emotions lower the chance of a successful escape.)

He has to wait, he cannot lose this chance to escape over something as trivial as emotions. Not when that runs the risk of more being done to him.

He will not let them do anything else to him.

So Prowl stays as still as possible as the final restraint is removed, not daring to try and run. Not yet. They would be prepared for him to try and escape the moment he could, they would plan for it. If he waits, pretends he's not aware enough to realize he's free to move, they may slip up, may give him the chance to escape successfully.

…Or he could be missing the only opportunity he'll have, and he doesn't even know it.

He doesn't know enough. There's too many unknown variables.

Number of enemies: 1 (or more) Location: Unknown Route to exit: Unknown Status of allies: Unknown Chance of successful escape: Unable to accurately calculate (no more than 30% at best).

He wishes he could see more, see who's in front of him, who the taller mech who just came close enough for him to notice is (had he been there the entire time?). He wishes this static in his audials would go away so he could hear what was being said. He wishes he could move his doorwings freely and know if he was surrounded by enemies instead of just not knowing.

(He wishes he had his hands still, he doesn't know if he'll be good enough of a shot with this claws. He wishes he had his face still, this singular optic being a screaming sign of what was done to him and he was helpless to stop it. He wishes he knew what all they did to him, what did they do, what did they do to him—).

He can't help it. He needs to know.

His doorwings twitch, just enough to tell him the two mechs in front of him are the only others in the room. It's enough to catch the smaller one's attention. There's noise, maybe speech, and he can make out their hands coming towards him—

Their hands are coming towards his head, his neck, he thinks he sees needles, and he can't just stand there anymore.

Prowl feels his new claw dig through metal, through the glass of a visor, as the static in his audials crescendos, becomes a roar. His plating is flared, his doorwings spread high and wide, and he is shaking.

He can't stop shaking.

What did they do to him?

[stump-not-found]

Sorry if this has already been answered, but does Ford celebrate his birthday? I know its pretty hard to keep track of time when its ... nonlinear in the multiverse but I feel like Bill would know. And to ford every once and a while Bill demands his attention and he comes back to the pyramid to the wildest (worst) surprise party. The cake is human skin, candles are those really long wisdom teeth. Ford hates it.

i'll call out that a main plot point of chapter 4 is the fact bill gets ford presents on his b-day so yah its a regular thing, but they celebrate the day after his b-day

first birthday together bill probably does the skin cake thing but ford just rolls his eyes and sighs . bill almost fucking shoots himself after that response

[lucradiss]

My parents are watching house and my mom sent me a picture of House with the longer hair in season eight and my kneejerk reaction was to say “I want him carnally in ways you couldn’t even begin to fathom” and the silence between us over the phone for the next five seconds was louder than a fucking atomic bomb

[50-huskies]

i just found out the author of enemy of my enemy is one of those unimaginably dense fans in the military who miss the entire point of the games. its weird that theyre like proudly admitting it too?? no ones impressed lol

i won't be supporting this author anymore

[patolemus]

Me: they’re my favorite character, I love them!

Also me: *puts them through the most gut wrenching angst imaginable for fun*

[allylikethecat]

K, L, E!!

YES OH MY GOSH HELLO ANON thank you so much for indulging me and sending questions from the Fanfic Ask Meme!! As always, I LOVE chatting about fic (mine and other peoples!) and I get so excited when people send me these! If anyone wants to send anymore, or reblog it themselves, the list can be found HERE.

K: What’s the angstiest idea you’ve ever come up with?

This is a hard question because I feel like all of my fics are pretty angst heavy? I know I published it anonymously, but I think Immoral in a Stranger's Lap was probably one of the most painful, especially because it didn't really have a resolution or a happy ending, the same goes for (Sometimes). It's still in the early stages of outlining, (and I'm writing it because I am firmly in the we need more mpreg in this fandom camp) but the Teen Dad Fictional!Matty fic is also shaping up to be pretty angsty - it's looking like it's going to be a split narrative alternating between 16 year old Fictional!Matty dealing with teen pregnancy and present day thirty something year old Fictional!Matty trying to get pregnant on purpose and struggling to do so which I know deals with a lot of really heavy and painful topics.

L: What’s the weirdest AU you’ve ever come up with?

I feel like all of them 😂 But I guess, since it's not really popular in this fandom I'm going to say omegaverse even though it was very common in my other fandom experiences.

E: If you wrote a sequel to [insert fic], what would it be about?

I'm choosing to talk about Small Bump because I was working on Make Way for Ducklings earlier and clearly have mpreg on the mind. If I were to writing a sequel to that one, it would be dealing with Fictional!Matty's postpartum depression.

Thank you so much for sending these in! Thank you so much for reading and taking the time to send this ask, and for your continued support! I'm really grateful for the people who have not only taken the time to read my fics, but who have also taken the time to engage with me! I really appreciate you! I hope your Wednesday is going well and that you have a great rest of your week!

❤️Ally

[reiverreturns]

i like to call this “i’ve written 3k worth of random rooster & phoenix scenes/drabbles and have only now figured out the vaguest understanding of a workable plot”

[valentinaonthemoon]

I love every kind of story and I love narrative choices and I love parallels and I love foreshadowing.

Unfortunately I also hate when I'm reading a well written story with parallels and foreshadowing and I know it's going to end with a sad ending because it's the best ending for it, but I want everyone (and me) to be happy and I have to reconsider all my life choices about it

[biolums]

who wanna be roommates 😍

[jacelys]

I'm genuinely just curious. I feel like me and my friends talk a lot about "media" or "consuming media", but generally on the level that we regularly read/watch things from a lot of different mediums- books, movies, comics, games- and "media" feels like a useful catchall term to include anything we might be interested in/referring to at the moment, and "consuming" as also an easy general term instead of having to use or combine multiple words like read/watch/play.

I've never felt like this was strange or had a meaning for the pieces of art we were talking about, just that it was practical and we all understood what we meant by it- in my mind "media" and "fiction" are more or less equivalent, although "media" might have more emphasis on referring to multiple different mediums at once. Do other people see/use the word differently, or is there an implication I'm not getting? Also, are there other words you would suggest we use? I understand the implications of "consume", but I feel like I can't think of an alternate single verb that can cover any/all mediums in the same way.

really i think step one of really digging your teeth and nails into a work of fiction is to surgically excise the buzzwords "media" and "consuming media" and possibly even "entertainment" from your brain and instead try grafting in the terms "fiction" and "engaging with art". step two is to have fun and be yourself!

[starboundsingularities]

good lird they did not make a gimmick blog about a real life murder

#someone fucking DIED but whatever who gives a shit it's funny i guess

7 notes

🥚 eggvidenced Follow

honestly with how suspicious and confusing everything on the dl-6 case was i wouldn't be surprised if it came out that it was that prosecutor guy tbh

🌟 rockliker270 Follow

date posted: june 23, 2010

1,834,853 notes

⚖️ courtofpublicopinions Follow

🌟 rockliker270 Follow

ok hear me out. what abt winston payne though

🧊 just--ice Follow

okay now they're just making lawyers up

#also didn't mvk die or something?

28,932 notes

🔥 triedbyfire Follow

why the fuck are you people still posting about the gavinners as if theyre not copaganda. didn't the guitarist get convicted of murder

🎸 guiltiest-lovers837 Follow

so fucking tired of this "um um didn't daryan get convicted of murder" YEAH AND HE'S LITERALLY NOT IN THE FUCKING BAND ANYMORE. dipshit

🔥 triedbyfire Follow

are you gonna address the copaganda thing or

1,092 notes

🌻 attorneybout Follow

he's so. 😳

📂 trialanderror Follow

why is he defending

📂 trialanderror Follow

OP WHY IS HE DEFENDING???

24,374 notes

🦈 giantlakemonsters Follow

i just wanna hear about another gourdy sighting thats all

🥜 liberdeez Follow

op. i'm so sorry op. gourdy isn't real you have to let her go. they had a whole trial about it.

🔐 wrightorwrong Follow

hi!! so this isn't actually the case as while gourdy was briefly mentioned in a trial, said trial had nothing to do with whether or not gourdy was "real" per se as much as. well. murder, actually. while gourdy WAS found out to be an inflatable steel samurai this was not brought up in the case at all as the veracity of gourdy wasn't really as relevant as the fact that the witness was looking for gourdy rather than at the murder she claimed to have seen. plus this was also a relatively small part of a MUCH larger trial which for those interested not only solved the dl-6 case but ALSO marked the end of prosecutor von karma's ~40 year long record and the court records are really a fascinating read through!!

🦀 mad_libz_87 Follow

net 0 information post

#thanks again lawblr

94,834 notes

🍒 cherriescoola Follow

btw i was at the park the other day and klavier gavin (of gavinners fame) was there and obv there was a huge crowd but this guy was there with him and at some point he (the other guy) waved to the crowd and someone still screamed like it was klavier??? who was that guy ive never seen him before in my life

2,284 notes

🩸 has-dl6-been-solved-yet Follow

December 28, 2016

YES!!!

702,947 notes

🪙 tellerlikeitis Follow

guys help i'm a bank teller and this guy just introduced himself as robin banks what do i do

🔪 violencekilling Follow

you gotta let him rob you that's the law

302,948 notes

👻 ghostesswiththemostest Follow

look if i ever get convicted of murder im just hiring the lawyer with the coolest sounding name

💼 courtofwaw Follow

bestie if you already got convicted it is Too Late

62,193 notes

📋 lawandwhoreder Follow

guys i know it's real fun to think people just can predict whatever but if you look at the earliest reblogs of that post that "guessed" the true killer in the dl-6 case it was actually a post about how they didn't want to go to the store. clearly edited

#stg nobody bothers to factcheck anything anymore

7,293 notes

🐺 lawnewolf Follow

i am NOT homophobic or whatever the fuck you guys are saying now i just think its weird to write fanfiction about realass people?? go touch grass ffs

🌈 lawsbian Follow

the fun police (this guy) putting me in yaoi court but the lawyers (phoenix witrght and miles edgeworth) just keep trying to make out (real court is like this too btw)

🐺 lawnewolf Follow

YOU HAVE SOMETHING WRONG WITH YOU.

#look idc what your enemies to lovers fic bullshit says #they're straight. and more importantly REAL PEOPLE. #there's TENSION because they are in COURT and there are LIVES on the LINE. #not because they wanna fuck. god.

12,293 notes

🔮 inhighspirits Follow

why dont they just ask the spirit mediums to ask the victims who killed them this law shit is easy

837,495 notes

💞 lawveyourself Follow

seriously i cant believe they gave this guy a law degree

💞 lawveyourself Follow

what do you mean evidence fraud

503,893 notes

🎧 instrumentalillness Follow

fuck you *unguilties your love*

384,568 notes

🎀 copiicat Follow

perjury isnt illegal btw in fact if youre one of tge witnesses youre legally required to lie on the stand. thats why everyone does it. trust me

[starkwlkr]

Omfg I need like early on in the relationship between Hugh and marvel!reader where their relationship isn’t public and their papparazzi of them on set together coz they’re visiting eachother and everyone’s thinking xmen X mcu when in reality it’s just them together dating

no spoilers! | hugh jackman

an: ok since their first son was born in 2000 (it’s canon idk what date but it’s canon now lol) and the mcu started in 2008 I’m going to change a few things JUST TINY THINGS like the mcu being in development early on and marvel actress!reader being casted in the early 2000s. does that make sense?? idk this is fanfiction

2005

Getting a call from Marvel was something you never expected. Like many people, you grew up reading the comics and watching the tv shows. But now you had the chance of a lifetime. You were being offered a role in the first movie in the Marvel cinematic universe.

After having a meeting with the marvel executives and your manager, you were asked to keep the news of your casting a secret. The media was already wondering who was going to portray what heroes on the big screen and your name was being thrown around.

While your relationship was still a secret, you often visited Hugh on set of X-Men with Alex and Reese. You tried to keep your little family from the media as much a possible. You would watch Hugh get into his costume and do his stunts. You were always amazed at how much fun it would be to portray a superhero and now you were finally going to be able to.

A few months after you met with Marvel, you found out you were pregnant with your third baby. A girl. Thankfully you weren’t set to film yet since the film was still in development. When it was finally time to film ‘Iron Man’, you were more than ready. Your kids were a bit older so they finally got to watch you beat up bad guys like their dad did.

It was during the filming of ‘Iron Man 2’ when your secret was finally revealed to the world. You didn’t really know how it even happened . . . Your guess was that paparazzi somehow snuck in. Hugh was always careful when visiting you on set. Rumors were already circulating on the internet about a potential X-Men and Avengers team up. It didn’t help that Hugh was sporting his signature Wolverine hair when he visited the set. At least the kids weren’t with you.

“You look much better than me,” Hugh looked at your costume. He couldn’t stop staring, it was starting to make you weak in the knees. “at least you get comfortable suits. Remember the black suits from X-Men? The most uncomfortable shit ever.”

“The kids thought you looked cool.” You reminded him.

“Okay, that makes me feel better.”

As you and Hugh talked, some paparazzi were secretly taking photos. All they could think about was how well they were going to get paid for the exclusive photos. The X-Men joining the mcu? That was big news!

When the photos were published on every magazine, you couldn’t help but laugh. What a way to reveal your relationship. You definitely didn’t want to share the news this way, but you also didn’t want to lose your job.

“Maybe in a few years it’ll come true. You, me, X-Men and the Avengers.” He told you, giving you your morning coffee. The kids were still sleeping so you and Hugh took advantage of the quiet morning. You set the magazine down on the table and drank the coffee.

“It would be nice. Imagine what the kids will think. Mom and dad beating up the bad guys together,” you smiled at him. He took the opportunity to give you a kiss. As he pulled away, you whispered to him. “or it could be me kicking the wolverine’s ass.”

Your characters wouldn’t share the screen until 2024 when Deadpool & Wolverine premiered. Your kids were more than excited to see their parents fighting together.

@kellyxo1 @barnes70stark @ru-kru @flyestvenustrap @evasmlp

[heathermason6060]

Daryl Dixon x F!Reader Smut: Teasing will get you Somewhere

Gif found on Pinterest unknown credit

Warnings/Mentions: Blue balls, Dark/Rough!Daryl, sexual teasing (Daryl receiving) rough sex, spitting, choking, manhandling, biting, blood blisters, spanking, bruising, it might smell like dubcon but it's not

Summary: Reader wants to see Daryl at his breaking point, teasing and depriving him of release until he gets there. 

Notes: I loved writing this so much. While trying to think of a plot for dark!Daryl I remembered this idea/prompt someone had like 5 years ago where the reader teases a guy until he cracks and just goes crazy. I think it was a fanfiction, but I looked through my bookmarks and ao3 history and couldn't find anything like this so if you know what I'm talking about please let me know!!

All you wanted from the start was to see Daryl snap. He was such an aggressive loudmouthed man, but not in the way you wanted him to be. 

He'd started flirting with you to appease Merle, the man who'd instantly noticed how you swooned around Daryl. The younger Dixon didn't believe him, of course, but he approached you to avoid the harsh blows of Merle calling him a ‘belly-up pussy’ along with more distasteful slurs. 

His way of “flirting” was a lot like Merles at first. Offensive, inappropriate, you know the rest. You'd been patient enough to politely explain that you weren't like the type of women that would fuck Merle after he called them a 'sweet piece of Georgian ass', and he took the hint. 

Daryl was shockingly sweet after that. He was less verbal after learning vulgar compliments weren't the way to go, but it turned out alright for you in the end. He began looking after you like you were his full responsibility. Making sure you were fed first, bringing home clothes specifically for you, along with any other treats he thought you might like. 

It was great, aside from him never making a move on you. He gawked like you were an alien when you started dressing for his gaze, Bobby Brooks shorts, pretty tank tops, even shaving your legs once in a while. But he never made a move. 

That simply wouldn't do. 

It was late one night and you'd slipped into his tent. 

“The hell you doin'?” He cursed, wiping the sleep from his eyes as you zipped up the flap behind you. 

“Can't sleep, Carl won't stop coughing.” 

You'd been sharing a tent with Lori and Carl ever since you arrived with T-Dog. It wasn't a complete lie, Carl was coughing up a storm, sick with some chest cold, but that wasn't the reason for your lack of sleep.

“I got some earplugs.” He sat up and began shifting through his bags. 

“No, it's okay. Can I crash here tonight?” You asked innocently, kicking off your casual flip flops that you saved for night time piss breaks or trips to get water. 

Daryl tried hiding his surprise . The stutter in his voice gave him away. “Uh, sure, I guess. S’long as ya dun snore.”

You behaved for an impressive amount of time. Lying in silence, not moving an inch, waiting for him to loosen up before quietly shifting backwards until your back was pressed up against his chest. 

His heart felt seconds away from collapsing in on itself when he felt you. He'd popped a semi when you'd taken off that big T-shirt he'd given you, and now it was bordering on a full on erection.

You waited until you felt his body relax, which took longer than you originally estimated, and then wiggled your hips. 

The reaction was immediate. He sucked in a breath through his nose and made this choking sound. He grabbed your hips, only for a split second before yanking his hands away like he'd been burned. 

You wiggled again, pushing back until the feeling of the outline of his dick against your ass was ingrained into your memory. 

It didn't take long to wear him down, not at all. He let out a strangled groan and rocked into you, his self restraint long since thrown out the window.

And then you stopped.

He nearly gasped at the loss of friction. The feeling was so devastating that it sobered him, and his cheeks burned with embarrassment. 

“Wha-” he panted. His fingers loosened their hold on your hips and twitched against the fabric of your pajama shorts. “Why'd ya stah- stop?”

“I'm sleepy.” You said plainly, pulling the thin sheet up to your shoulders in emphasis. 

Daryl caught his breath behind you, struggling to make sense of it all through his confusion and disappointment. He grumbled something that sounded like it held an attitude, though sadly that was the extent of his protests. 

You needed more. You needed him to tear your clothes off and ravish you like the animal you knew he was. The Daryl that feverishly humped you like his life depended on it was cute, but you needed the Daryl that he was in his daily life. 

The only way you could think of was to force it out of him, even if it did torture the poor man in the process. 

You kept up the innocent teasing for a while. You took a break after Merle went missing, you knew your limits and his. You weren't a total selfish piece of shit. Only when you arrived at the farm and he began talking to you again did you resume your game of “teasing Daryl until he cracks”.

“How's it look?” You gave a cheeky smile as you turned in a circle with your hands on your hips. 

You'd put on the pair of green cargo shorts he'd found you. They weren't very practical, holding only four pockets, which was less than normal cargo shorts, but they were scandalous. The fabric hugged your ass tight enough to look damn near pornographic. 

“Didn't realize they were that tiny. Christ.” Daryl muttered with pink cheeks. “Jus’ give ‘em ta Beth. 

“Oh god. Can you imagine her face? That girl is still wearing pants in late summer. Her daddy would kill me.” You snorted and turned back to face him. “I'm keeping these bad boys. The fabric is soft. Wanna feel?” 

“Already felt em when I took em.” Despite his words, he set down his knife to free up his hands. 

“Give me your hand.” 

The poor boy was so eager to feel you that he practically threw his hands in yours. When you placed his palms on the sides of your shorts he seemed to snap to life, dropping the nonchalant attitude to rub his thumbs over the fabric covering your hips and thighs. 

You tried to keep the smug smirk off your face, and failed miserably. He was turning himself on just by touching the clothing that covered your pelvis. 

Suddenly, you pulled away, feeling your heart lurch in your chest at the way his face dropped.

“Thanks again. I've been needing new shorts.” 

“Yeah. Uh-huh. S'nothin.”

It went on like that for a while. 

One night you climbed into his tent again with the ruse of being cold, and he didn't mention the fact it was a warm seventy degrees that night. You were wearing nothing but an oversized T-shirt and panties, and made sure to make Daryl aware of this when you slid your knee over his thigh. 

Nothing happened that night either, nothing other than pretending to sleep while he palmed himself through his jeans. 

Another time you put on those green cargo shorts and offered to tidy up his camp, an offer he was quick to accept just so he could watch you needlessly bend over to grab random objects to place somewhere else. 

Once you even made out with him. Late at night in his tent, things got hot and heavy and you straddled him, wearing the same oversized T-shirt and panties, washed since then, of course. 

He was nervous at first, you could tell by the way his hands trembled on their way up your sides. You kissed him slow and sweet, nothing too extreme, not until he pushed his hot tongue against your lips. 

You let him in and groaned at the enthusiasm he showed. He kissed you like you were still teenagers, up in the loft of some barn hiding away from Daddy. 

“Shit.” He panted against your lips. He moved his hands down to your waist and pulled you down hard, groaning when he got that first taste of friction he so desperately craved.

“Slow down.” You breathed. Your body betrayed your words, your hips rolling down gentle and slow, just enough to feel the outline of his aching cock through your clothing. 

“Why?” He muttered before pressing another kiss against your lips. “Wha's stoppin’ ya? I got condoms. Glenn's got the pill. S'fine.” 

You pulled up and away from his lips. He looked so pretty beneath you all desperate like that. It still wasn't what you wanted. 

“I don't know, Daryl-” Your voice choked into a whine when he moved under you, the friction momentarily rendering you speechless. 

“Can't ya feel what yer doin’ to me? Huh?” He snapped his hips again, forcing out another whine. “S’all for you. C'mon now.”

“Not here Daryl.” You tried to keep your voice level and firm. “Not in some tent where we have to be quick and quiet.” 

“Le’s go somewhere then. Anywhere ya want, don't care. Tell me. I'll take ya.” 

Truthfully, that almost made you give in. But it still wasn't the Daryl you wanted to experience. He was desperate, but not desperate enough. 

“Not tonight, Daryl. It's too late and Shane's on watch. He'll have my ass if he catches us sneaking out.” 

Daryl growled in frustration, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead. “Won't get caught.”

“Yeah, sure. Let's just wait another night.” You pressed a kiss against his cheek, innocent enough, contrasting painfully with the way you ground down against him one last time before sliding off.

Part of you started doubting your plan. Daryl was too reluctant, too full of self doubt, too terrified at the aspect of losing whatever fun thing you had going on by pushing your limits. Even though you had no problem pushing his. 

His patience amazed you. Any other man would've thrown you to the side after the first few times, or ignored your “wishes” and dove right in. He didn't know that's what you wanted. You couldn't blame him. 

How could you tell someone like Daryl “I want you to fuck me with enough desire and aggression to give a nun a heart attack”? He'd been too gentle during foreplay, too submissive, you were beginning to think he was a virgin. 

Maggie gave you a dress. You didn't know who it once belonged to, her or her sister, but it was one of the cutest things you'd ever laid eyes on. A pretty moss green that went right below your knees, laces up your stomach the same color as the dress, and thankfully, no sleeves. 

The domestic look had Daryl in shambles. You looked like a farm wife from a damn magazine, it took everything he had in him not to fuck you behind the barn like he wanted. 

He took you out that day. On a ‘food supply run’, as he called it. You weren't anyone's first pick for runs, which you understood, you were easily distracted. It was your biggest fault.

So when he asked you specifically, and you alone, you were barely able to contain your excitement. 

The first place you stopped by was an old farmers corner store to pick up enough food so you didn't come back empty handed. A few canned goods, stale snacks and three cans of soda. 

He left that in the back of the truck when the two of you stopped by a house. A very nice house, to your surprise. 

“Can't believe this place hasn't been trashed.” You commented while rummaging through the kitchen. “No more food, but there's some lighter fluid.”

“Hm.” Daryl grunted. After securing the front door he found you still in the kitchen, chewing on a mouthful of gum. 

You'd shoved about three long sticks in your mouth. “Want some?”

He eyed the gum wrapped in silver paper before taking it from your outstretched hand with a gruff thanks. 

It was hard to focus on, his heart felt like it was in his throat, it was hard to swallow, and his jaw ached from his aggressive chewing. He'd done everything you wanted, got birth control; condoms and plan B. He found this nice house that same morning, almost immediately after seeing you walk outside in that dress. He even cleaned up the master bedroom for you, dusting off the sheets and beating the pillows, opening the windows to air out the room. 

There was no way you could wave him off now.

Oh, but you found a way. It was a talent that needed to be fucking studied. 

You were digging through the dresser in the upstairs bedroom when he approached you. You ignored the sound of the door shutting and locking behind him, pretending to be very interested in the contents of the bottom drawer. 

His hands found your sides. Your skin tingled as he pulled you to your feet and pressed you against the dresser with his palm on your lower back.

He went to kissing the back of your neck. His lips were light and soft, contrasting the anxiety bubbling in his gut. 

“Hmm.” You hummed. He brushed your hair over your right shoulder and went back to kissing your neck, peppering them all the way to the point of your left shoulder. 

“Missed ya'.” He muttered, pushing his hips forward to drive home his point. 

You tried not to laugh with pity at the feeling. He was already hard? Poor thing. 

“We're supposed to be looking for food.” You chided playfully. You shifted your ass and earned a low grunt of appreciation for the friction. 

“Then why’re ya in the bedroom?” He challenged. When you didn't respond he smirked against the skin on your neck. 

His hands didn't wait for permission. He bent his knees so he could grab the bottom of your dress, gathering it in his fists and pulling it up and over your ass. He sighed at the sight, you were wearing the type of panties he'd only ever seen on a clothing rack or behind a screen. Black soft fabric, tight and with lace around the hem, hugging your curves just right. 

“Daryl, come on.” You chuckled, but made no attempt to move. “They're gonna wonder where we went.”

He laughed, the sound dry and humorless. “Don't give a shit. They'll survive.” 

“And what is it you wanna do so bad that's more important than feeding our people, huh?” You mused, placing your palms on the dresser he was pushing you harder up against. 

“Ain't my people.” He quipped and ground into you, dying to make you feel how desperate he was for you. 

You choked back a moan. “You didn't answer my question.” 

“Want ya. Right here.”

“Want me to what?” 

Daryl sighed and released his hold on your dress to grip your waist. “Wanna fuck ya nice an’ good. Make y’feel what y’been missin’.”

You groaned. Your grip on the dresser turned white-knuckled as he pushed against you again. 

“Yeah?” Your breath trembled past your open lips. “What else?”

Daryl pressed himself closer, until his mouth was right at your ear. “Wanna feel what ya’ been keepin’ from me. Taste ya'. Shove my dick in that pretty lil’ mouth n’make ya sorry.” 

His words had an obvious effect on you. Your knees trembled and your breathing was louder, more shallow. 

But he still hadn't cracked. 

The curiosity was eating you alive. You couldn't give in now, not when he was so fucking close. You turned to face him and gave a ghost of a smile, trying your best to look sympathetic.

“Maybe some other time.” 

His eyes widened and his eyebrows scrunched tightly together. His nostrils flared as his pupils darted over your face, looking frantically for the slightest sign telling him it was a joke. He looked hurt, confused, like you just slapped him in the face and called him a slur.

There it is. 

“You-” he choked out, “Y’aint serious?” 

You forced a nod. 

“Why?” The way he raised his voice sent a bolt of pleasure through your core, and you had to fight back a whimper. “Got everythin’ ya needed. Went through the trouble’a findin’ this place, ain't gotta be quiet, ain't gotta worry ‘bout walkers or someone hearin’, the hell else you want from me woman?” 

You couldn't stop yourself from whimpering. You bit your bottom lip and tried to steady your breathing, but when you stole a glance at his face and saw the expression held there your lungs shifted into overdrive. 

He looked so fed up. 

“What are you gonna do about it?” You whispered. 

Daryl sneered in contempt. “The hell can I do ‘bout it? Not gonna beg.”

You swallowed hard. You slowly shook your head, your chest rising and falling dramatically, your body still trapped between his arms, his hands on the dresser behind you. 

“Don't want you to beg.” 

You pressed a hand between his legs and he let out a strangled groan, his elbows swaying as they threatened to give out. You flexed your fingers to massage his length, and pulled away. 

His eyes shot open and just as quick his hand wrapped around your wrist, yanking you back to his bulge and nearly breaking your fingers in the process of shoving them down the waistband of his jeans. 

After unbuckling his belt he was able to cram your hand down deeper, forcing you to feel him. 

You gasped when your fingertips made contact. You didn't know a dick could get that hard. It felt just as firm as any other extremity. 

“Daryl.” You let out a long sigh as you gave a half assed attempt to pull your hand out. His grip on your wrist tightened. 

“Hmm?” The teasing tone of his hum made your clit throb. 

“We can't-” You didn't get to finish your sentence before he scoffed and picked you up. Like actually picked you up in his arms, bridal style. He threw you on the plush bed where you bounced a few times, and dove into you.

“S’enough.” He muttered. He pulled your dress up over your waist and looped his fingers through the sides of your panties. You thought he'd hesitate, take a look at the expression on your face and back off, but he didn't. He tugged them down your legs and tossed them off the bed in a random location. 

“Ain't some pussy ya’ got on a leash.” His fingers snaked between your legs, beelining for your cunt. He groaned in surprise, his eyes rolling back at the feeling. You were beyond wet at this point, his aggression had your folds like a slip n slide with lube instead of water. 

You bit back a moan. His fingers spread your folds, smearing your wetness around, his thumb pressing down against your clit. 

“Fuck!” You gasped. Your hips instinctively shifted to the side from the overwhelming sensation, but a firm grip on your waist quickly snatched you back. 

“Think y'can do whatever the hell ya’ want, and I'll jus’ sit back an’ let ya’?” He didn't give you time to answer. He pushed a finger inside you, and both of you hissed at the feeling. “Ffuck. Shit ain't like that no more, princess.” 

Any other time you would've snapped at the insult, but his finger digging around inside you had your mind blank. 

“Wha’s wrong? Huh?” He twisted his finger and you cried out. His voice was sickly sweet, something that should've pissed you off but only fueled your arousal. “Got nothin' to say?” His finger curled, a movement that held no thought behind it, though the way you gasped and arched your back had him repeating the action. 

Then he started mocking you. “Oh no, not now, it's not right, I'm not ready!” He scoffed in disgust. “Like ya’ a lot better when ya’aint speakin’.” 

Oh, god. You should be fuming. You should be spitting venom right back at him, but this is everything you'd wanted from him. It was all going according to plan. 

Maybe he knew that, or maybe he didn't. Either way he was behaving just as you'd imagined countless times, rough, mean, cruel and demanding. 

“C'mon, try a little bit.” He growled after leaning down to bite at your open neck. “Go on. Tell me it ain't the time. Tell me.”

You were nothing but a puddle under him. Your hands became too restless and reached up to grab at him, balling your fists in the back of his shirt.

Never in your life had a man treated you like this. No matter how bad you teased and gave subliminal signals. They would either indulge in your teasing, respect your wishes and back off when told to, or kiss and plead until you relented. 

Finally someone was fucking you like you had always wanted. Or, they were about to. 

The knuckle of his thumb had been digging into your clit for a good minute now, and despite how uncomfortable it could feel at times, you came quickly. 

You sucked in a sharp gasp and locked your legs around his waist, trying to pull his finger in deeper, or make his knuckle grind harder. 

Daryl groaned into your neck as you came around his finger. His hips jerked forward and bumped against his hand between your thighs, knocking his digit in deeper. You yelped, not expecting such a sharp sensation during your warm and soft climax. 

He withdrew his finger and you whined. 

“Sh-sh-sh.” You didn't think a hush could sound so condescending. “Got somethin' better. Gonna make you regret not takin’ it sooner.”

You said it before you could stop yourself. “You don't have it in you.” 

His eyes flicked up to your face as he pulled his zipper down, a look on his face that sent chills across your bare legs.

There was slight amusement, slight relief, as if someone finally gave him permission to show off and prove himself. Lips parted into a breathy smirk, tongue peeking between his teeth, and one eyebrow raised. 

Your eyes dropped to his pants when he pulled his cock free. It looked just as you imagined when you'd touched it only minutes ago, standing at full attention against his lower stomach.

You let out a sigh when you saw it reached his navel. 

Daryl leaned down until he was level with your pussy. You heard it before you felt it, the sound of him spitting, and then warm drool dropping right on your sensitive clit.

You squealed in protest, trying to raise yourself on your elbows, but he stopped you with a hand on your chest. With his free hand he smeared his spit over your already soaking folds, even going as far as to push some inside you with his finger. 

“Ew!” You gasped. 

You felt a tingle. Subtle at first, you just assumed it was the salinity of his saliva, and then more prominent. You were close to panicking until you saw the wad of white gum shoot out of his mouth, landing with a smack against the hardwood floor. 

At least you knew the source of the tingling. You swallowed your own gum, the same way you'd completely forgotten about.

The skin around your cunt buzzed when he slapped the tip of his dick on your clit, and you squirmed beneath him. He steadied you with the same hand on your chest. 

“Wait.” You inhaled deeply. He didn't wait though, he just pushed into your clenched hole, ignoring your whines.

“Ssss-shut up.” His voice trembled. He used his free hand to wrap around the base of his dick, holding it straight as he slowly pushed in further. 

“Y-you said you had condoms.” 

Daryl let out a loud groan as he sank into you. His right hand on your chest increased in pressure as more and more of his upper body weight bore down on it, forcing the air from your lungs. 

He was so thick, and it had been years for you. The burn was incredible, in such a pleasurable way that you should've felt ashamed to enjoy. You tried to moan, but nothing came out aside from a strained breath. 

“Ain't nothin' gonna make me feel rubber instead’a this.” He grunted. He rolled his hips forward and finally pulled his hand off your chest to roll the dress up and over your body. 

“F-Fuck.” His whimper was strangled in his throat. Being completely naked under someone who was fully dressed had you clenching around him, earning another whimper from said man. 

“Should feel ‘shamed, keepin' all this from me.” 

You didn't. Not one bit. 

“But I know ya'aint.” 

You furrowed your brows, momentarily stunned by his apparent mind reading abilities. He jerked his hips forward and your face fell slack, your jaw dropping and your eyelids falling shut. 

His thrusts were harsh, but far too slow for you to get anywhere. You grabbed his shirt and used it to pull him down, desperate for more stimulation. 

Daryl happily obliged. His breath was hot on your ear before he took the lobe between his lips, sucking and licking the flesh. You gasped as he bit down on it, and you could sense the smirk on his lips. 

“Daryl?” You breathed, the name breaking on your tongue with another thrust. 

“Jesus.” He groaned, thoroughly annoyed. He released your ear and pulled back to look at you, frustration evident on his face. “What?”

“Thought I was gonna regret it.”

Your words had his upper lip twitching and his eyes widening ever so slightly. 

“Yeah?” He huffed. “S'gonna be like that?”

He rose from your chest, shifting until he was sitting on his boots. His hands grabbed onto your hips and yanked you down on his dick, forcing a cry from your dry throat. It took him a few seconds to position himself, leaning back just a bit, his grip on your hips tight, and then he started fucking you in a ruthless pace. 

It wasn't what you were expecting. Your mouth dropped into a long gape and your eyes shot open as he pounded his pelvis against yours, driving his dick so deep it reached places your fingers never had. 

Each thrust had a gasp burning in your lungs, and those gasps quickly grew to embarrassing moans. Now that you were ashamed of. If you had the ability to stop it you could, but the way he was thrusting into you rendered you utterly unable to control yourself and the sounds you made. 

“Get up.” 

You weren't sure why he even spoke, because he was moving your body by himself before you could process his command. He pulled you to the side of the bed and turned you over on your stomach, bending you over and shoving his dick back inside you so fast you shrieked. 

Your feet flew up behind you, smacking against the back of his thighs. If you could've seen it you would've laughed. 

The new angle was paralyzing. His dick was no longer tilted against the spot under your stomach, the spot that had you a drooling mess seconds ago. Now it smashed against a deeper part of you, a part that had you groaning with each frustration fueled thrust. 

“Fuck.” Daryl groaned, his pace slowing to give momentary reprieve. He wasn't as young as you, and even though he was always out there doing a hundred times more labor intensive activity, he needed a second to catch his breath. 

There was still an itch yet to be scratched. While he regained his bearings you fought to think of a way to say it without actually saying ‘i want you to hurt me and fuck me till I cry’. You'd already humiliated yourself enough. 

When he began picking up the pace again, you reached for the hand beside your head and bit down on his knuckles. Not gently, either. You bit down so hard he could've ripped a tooth out with the way he yanked his hand away.

“The fuck?” His voice was barely below a shout. “Ya’ crazy bitch!” 

There was no retaliation besides a particularly forceful thrust, to your irritation. 

“You baby.” You managed to grunt out. “Barely bit you.” 

“Barley bi-” he scoffed, looking down at the hand he now had splayed across your lower back. There were deep pink imprints from your teeth over his index finger knuckle, and the skin around it turned a bright red. 

You felt his fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling your hand away from its grip on the bed sheets. Your heart hammered quicker than his thrusts when his breath tickled your skin, and then he bit you. In the same spot you bit him.

It wasn't nearly as hard as you bit him, but you still whimpered at the ache. 

“Point stands.” 

Daryl couldn't believe what he was hearing. His jaw set and he dropped your wrist. 

The smug smirk you'd been keeping to yourself fell when your hair was suddenly twisted in the fist of his right hand. With just that leverage alone he pulled your upper body up, and his left arm snaked around your torso to keep you flush against his chest. 

He yanked your head to the side. You gasped. 

“This what ya’ wanted, huh sweetheart?” He breathed against your ear and drew back until his dick nearly slipped out before slamming back in.  

“Mmm-oh god yes.” You blurted out between moans. 

“Jus' had to ask.” He managed a chuckle. 

“More.” 

He furrowed his brows, but kept up the slow and deep pace. He couldn't imagine what else he could give you. He was fucking you hard enough to bruise, he was pulling your hair, what, did you want him to start beating you? 

He dipped his head down to bite your shoulder, holding back just enough so that he wouldn't give you an actual wound. 

You have to consider that biting someone with enough force to actually break the skin takes a lot. Skin isn't like the flesh of a fruit. It's tough, and would require chewing to break through. So for him to stop right before that point meant he was biting you so hard you got blood blisters, and the pain was all you could focus on. 

Your wail of genuine pain had him pulling back like he'd been shocked. His thrusts slowed, and through ragged breaths he spoke, “Shit, m'sorry. M'so sorry.” 

“No.” You gasped. Your shoulder felt like it was on fire, and your walls cleaned around him in response. “So good. Feels so good.”

Daryl let out a huff in relief. “Ya’ weird as shit, yanno that?” 

“Mhmm.” You groaned, pressing your ass back tightly against him. “More.” 

He took a deep breath to steady himself and pushed you back down on your stomach. He had to work himself up to it, the idea intimidating. Once his thrusts were back to their former sharp pace he raised a hand in the air. 

You tilted your head to the side so your cheek was pressed against the blanket. When you saw his right hand held up, your heart leapt. You never nodded so quickly. 

Daryl ground his teeth together, glancing down at your ass, your face, and back to your ass again before smacking his hand against it. 

It was barely a love tap. 

You groaned, wiggling your hips and earning a moan from him in response to the feeling on his dick. 

He took the hint and gave another smack, harder, but still not giving that burn or satisfying ‘smack’ sound you wanted.

“Daryl, please.” You whimpered. “Hurt me. I'm not made of glass.” 

You barely got the last word out before he slapped you. Open handed, fingers spread and slightly curved to mold perfectly against your asscheek. You yelped and instinctively tried scooting up the bed, held back by his left hand on your hip. 

It clicked in his head then. No wonder people liked spanking so much. His palm tingled and he could see a faint handprint start to color your skin. And the way you reacted, that sound you made, your body trying to get away from him, it made his dick twitch. 

“Fuck!” You cried out after another hard slap. The pain fully distracted you from the ache in your shoulder, white hot pain spreading across your ass and up your spine. 

“Such a baby.” He meant it to sound patronizing, but he was still too amazed by the new turn on he'd discovered, and the words came out breathless. 

Your whimper bled into another cry as he spanked you again. 

And again. 

Again, again, until you were on the verge of tears, sobs bubbling from your wet lips as you tried to squirm away from him. 

As if you actually wanted to. Which you clearly didn't. You were practically gushing around his dick. 

He rubbed his palm over the deep red skin, barely soothing the blinding burn he'd left behind. “Goddamn.” 

“M'gonna cum.” You were literally drooling. 

He snapped his attention away from your ass and back to you. “Whaddya want, huh?” He quickened his pace once again, jolting forward to press his body against your back. You whimpered at the way he moved, his dick pushing deeper inside you. 

“More, please,” you stuttered, trying desperately to work your hand under your body, which proved to be difficult due to his weight on top of you. 

Daryl noticed and lifted your hips with his hands. He shoved your eager arm out of the way and rubbed your clit with his own fingers, fast and deep in a way he assumed you'd like. 

You moaned under him, arching your back, feeling him slip in further. It was as if he grew another inch every five minutes. Or you grew another inch deeper, and he was staying the same. Either way he was deeper, and it felt immaculate. 

The rise to your climax was slow, but powerful. You were fully prepared to gently tip over the edge and slide down in bliss. 

That was before he slapped your pussy. Then you fell down gasping. 

Daryl held onto your body like you were a wild mustang, trashing and twisting under him in ecstasy. He withdrew his hand and grabbed your hips again, resuming his brutal pace, clamping his teeth down on the back of your neck to keep your bodies anchored together. 

It took a while for you to come down from your high. When you did it was violent, the pure bliss smashed away by burning overstimulation. 

“Fu-uck!” You heaved in deep breaths. “Daryl s’too much, can't, wait!”

“Ever since that night ya’ came in my tent, blue ballin’ me like that,” he growled against your neck, “-been dreamin’ ‘bout havin ya’ like this. Fallin’ apart. Face full’a tears. Ain't stoppin now.” 

He wasn't bluffing. He didn't stop. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, ramming into your abused cunt, only slowing to shift in positions so you were on your back. 

The air felt amazing against your chest. Daryl ripped that feeling away with gnashing teeth, biting your hard nipples and alternating between sucking and pinching.

The house had to be surrounded by walkers by now. There was no way it wasn't, you were crying and moaning like you were getting paid for it. 

“Oh, god.” You wailed as another orgasm built up quicker than ever inside you. “Oh please, fuck, god!”

A jolt of pleasure shot through your core when Daryl's hands wrapped around your throat. 

Now, Daryl was no stranger to strangling someone. He'd choked plenty of people out before.

In fights.

He was unaware there was a different type of choking for pleasure. Instead of squeezing the sides of your throat with his thumb and fingers, he wrapped both hands around your neck and fucking strangled you. 

You squeezed your eyes shut so tight they ached as you came. Your orgasm had started off blinding, overwhelming every inch of your body, but Daryl's crushing grip soon muted the tail end of your climax and filled your ears with a deafening ringing. 

Daryl pulled his teeth off your nipple and panted against your ear. “Lemme cum inside ya’, sweetheart.”

You could barely process what he'd said. You forced your eyes open against the pressure induced burn, trying to find his face, only to see the side of his head. 

“Can't pull out.” He growled and released some of the pressure around your throat. Oxygen and blood flooded your head, leaving you dizzy and with black around the edges of your vision. 

“Can't, m'sorry. Oh, huh-  fuck!” His voice was strained as every muscle in his body tensed up. His hips surged forward, stuffing his dick balls deep to coat the end of your walls in his cum. “Mmm-fuck s’good. So good. Ohhh, Hah-” 

He choked on his moan. He moved his head, replacing his hands around your neck with his mouth, kissing and biting at the tender skin as he spurted ropes of hot cum inside you. 

Your body broiled under his crushing form. Your thighs relaxed from their clamped position, falling off his waist and dropping to the bed beneath you. Your lungs ached and your throat was raw, but your pussy buzzed so intently it felt like you had a vibrator pressed against it. 

“Oh, god.” The tone was full of dread and you forced yourself to focus on Daryl. 

“What?” You croaked. There was a stabbing pain in your neck from Daryl choking you out like you were a man his size. 

“Yer all fucked up.” He whined. He traced his fingers across your throat. “S’bad. Oh fuck.”

“Calm down.” You sat upright after he pulled back enough for you to do so, his dick dragging out against your trembling walls in the process and making you hiss.

“It's okay. I'll just tell em a walker got the jump on me. We've all seen them grab throats. It's fine.” You pressed a kiss to his worried lips. 

“Gonna tell em a walker did that too?” He pointed an exhausted finger at the bite mark on your shoulder, which was now in the early stages of a deep bruise, not to mention the blood blister in the shape of his teeth.

You laughed softly. “Fuck no. I'll just skip the tank tops for a week or two.”

That seemed to settle him enough and he nodded, moving to lay on his back. 

“That was amazing.” You broke the long silence. “Seriously. You're the first man to ever… you know.”

Daryl furrowed his eyebrows and looked up at you. “Huh? Y’never…?”

“No! I mean…” you sighed. “Never had a man make me come.”

Now he was at full attention, sitting upright and leaning back on his palms. “Nah, no shit.”

“I'm serious.”

He let out a light scoff, shaking his head in disbelief. “Jesus.” He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he watched you climb off the bed to grab your thrown panties. “Me too.”

You glanced over your shoulder as you stepped into them. “Really? You never…?”

He nodded, going back to biting his cheek. 

“How'd you last so fucking long?”

A cocky grin crept across his lips at the compliment behind your words. He was worried he didn't last long enough. And you just asked him how he held on so long.

“Jerked off like, ten fuckin’ times today.” 

That meant he knew he was going to fuck you today. Heat spread through your core again, despite how worn out you were. You smiled and climbed back on the bed to smother him with kisses. 

“You're so fucking hot.” You mumbled against his lips, which were moving weakly against your own. 

“Says the bitch that wouldn't fuck me.” He chuckled. 

“Just wanted you to make the decision for me. It's a lot hotter that way.” You hummed, pulling your swollen lips away from his. “It worked.” 

“Psh.” He rolled his eyes and began stuffing his soft cock back in his jeans. “Put yer clothes on. Place is probably crawlin' with walkers. Le’s get the hell outta dodge before anymore show up.”

Now that Daryl was in on your little game, you couldn't wait to play again. 

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams @my1fx @jinx-nanami

[sushiyuzu]

afterparty

warning: fluff + tension + pet names (“kitten” & “sweetie”)

summary: in return for your presence, sylus shows his affection towards you ❤️ [ x fem!reader ]

disclaimer: this fanfiction is inspired by one of sylus’s card (radiant brilliance) from the game “love and deepspace”. while i have taken elements from the original, i have rewritten it in my own style and added my own twists.

note: this story is a work of fiction and is NOT intended to represent the original game’s narrative.

word count: 2.03k

- second acc: @blushpawss

“sylus! sylus! sylus!”

the energy in the arena was intense, with the crowd roaring and chanting sylus’s name. he had just claimed victory, and the spotlight shone on him, making his silver hair glint like moonlight. his crimson eyes scanned the crowd, and then they found you—standing there with a bouquet of flowers in your hands. you had come all this way, just to support him, to be by his side, and that meant more to him than any trophy.

as he walked over to you, wiping the sweat from his brow, his gaze softened. “someone came all the way here to watch me,” he said, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “she said she didn’t want to see me lose.” his voice was low, laced with affection, as he stepped closer.

you couldn’t help but smile, your cheeks warming under his intense gaze. “well, i couldn’t just stay home knowing you had this big match. and... i knew you’d win,” you said, feeling a little shy as you handed him the bouquet. your heart raced as his fingers brushed yours, taking the flowers from your hands with a soft chuckle.

“these are beautiful. but not as beautiful as you,” he said, his voice dropping to a tender whisper. the weight of his words made your chest tighten, the flutter of excitement growing stronger inside you.

“you’re so cheesy,” you muttered, but your smile never left your face. before you could say more, sylus reached into his pocket, pulling out something that gleamed in the light. it was his champion ring.

“you know,” he began, his eyes locked on yours, “i don’t wear this for myself. i wear it because you’re the reason i’m here. i wouldn’t have made it this far without you.” he held the ring up, his expression serious yet full of warmth. “so, tell me, kitten—what finger do you want me to put this on?”

you blinked, taken by surprise. your heart skipped a beat as you looked at the ring, then back at sylus. he was offering you more than just a ring; it was a symbol of everything you meant to him. you hesitated for a moment, then softly said, “my ring finger...”

sylus’s grin widened as he carefully took your hand in his. his touch was warm, and as he slipped the ring onto your finger, a wave of emotion washed over you. his thumb brushed over your knuckles, and you could feel the possessiveness in his gesture. it wasn’t overwhelming—it was reassuring, protective. he was claiming you in his own way, showing you that you were his, and that he was yours.

“perfect,” he said, admiring the way the ring looked on your hand. “now you’re officially mine,” he added, his voice dropping to a low rumble that sent a shiver through you.

you couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head. “i think it’s the other way around—you’re mine,” you teased, looking up at him. his crimson eyes flickered with amusement, but there was something deeper there too—something soft and tender that made your heart ache in the best way.

“i guess we belong to each other then,” he said, pulling you closer to him. his broad arm wrapped around your waist, his grip firm but gentle, as if he couldn’t stand the thought of you being too far from him.

the crowd had started to disperse, but in that moment, it felt like it was just the two of you, lost in your own world. sylus held his phone up, ready to take a picture. “let’s capture this moment,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. you smiled for the camera, your body leaning into his as his arm tightened around you. you felt the warmth of his chest against your back, his steady heartbeat thrumming in time with yours.

as you smiled at the camera, sylus wasn’t looking at it. instead, his eyes were fixed on you, his expression soft and filled with affection. there was something almost vulnerable in the way he gazed at you, like you were the only person in the world who could make him feel this way. before the picture snapped, sylus leaned down, closing his eyes and pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

“this,” he whispered against your hair, “this is all i need.” he clicked the photo, capturing not just the image but the moment—the feeling of him holding you close, the way he kissed you with such tenderness, the connection you both shared.

after the picture, he didn’t let go. instead, he buried his face in the crook of your neck for a brief moment, inhaling the scent of your hair. “you have no idea how much i love you,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. you could feel the sincerity in his words, the depth of his feelings wrapped up in every syllable.

you turned in his arms, looking up at him, and saw the way his eyes softened even more. his silver hair, now slightly tousled from the fight, framed his face perfectly. “i love you too, sylus,” you said, your voice just as soft. you placed a hand on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. “and i’m so proud of you.”

his hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. “you’re the only reason i ever want to win,” he said, his voice deep and full of emotion. he leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss that made the world around you fade away. when he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. “thank you for being here. for always being here.”

as the two of you stood there, wrapped in each other’s embrace, you knew that this moment—this quiet, tender moment—was something you’d hold onto forever. the picture on his phone was just a snapshot, but the memory, the love, would last a lifetime.

the afterparty had been a whirlwind of celebration. sylus was the center of attention, but no matter how many people congratulated him, his eyes never left you for long. you stayed by his side, feeling the heat of his presence even in a crowded room. as the night wore on, you couldn’t help but notice the way his touches became more lingering, his hand never straying far from the small of your back.

by the time the party started to wind down, it was already late, and sylus insisted on taking you back to his place. “it’s too late for you to go home alone,” he said, his crimson eyes dark with something more than concern. “besides, kitten... i want you with me tonight.”

you didn’t argue. you couldn’t—not when he looked at you like that, his voice sending shivers down your spine. the drive to his mansion was quiet but charged with anticipation. you could feel the tension building between you two, like a wire pulled taut, just waiting to snap.

sylus’s mansion was massive, secluded in the hills, far away from the city. the moment you stepped inside, you felt the quiet stillness of the place, but it wasn’t cold. the warmth came from him, from the way his hand lingered on your waist as he led you inside.

“make yourself at home,” he said, his voice low as he closed the door behind you. the soft click echoed through the spacious foyer. “you’ll be staying the night, after all.”

you smiled, feeling a little nervous but excited. “are you sure i’m not intruding?”

sylus chuckled, stepping closer until he was standing right in front of you. “kitten, you could never intrude. i want you here.” his hand slid to your hip, his fingers brushing against the fabric of your skirt. “besides, i promised to take care of you, didn’t i?”

his words were teasing, but there was an edge to them, something that made your heart race. “i guess i’m in your hands tonight,” you replied, trying to sound casual, but the way his eyes darkened told you that he picked up on the teasing note in your voice.

“in my hands...” sylus repeated, his voice a low rumble. “i like the sound of that.”

you felt a shiver run through you as he took your hand, gently pulling you toward the grand staircase that led to the upper floors. his grip was firm but tender, and the heat of his palm against yours sent sparks dancing along your skin.

as you climbed the stairs together, the silence between you was thick with tension. every step seemed to heighten the anticipation, the closeness of his body to yours making your pulse quicken. when you finally reached his bedroom, sylus pushed the door open and led you inside.

the room was large, the bed enormous, but your attention was on him. sylus turned to you, his eyes locking with yours as he stepped closer, crowding your space until your back was pressed against the edge of the bed.

“you know,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, “i still owe you for coming all the way to watch me fight. for cheering me on, for being there with flowers...” his hand came up, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “i should thank you properly.”

before you could respond, sylus leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. “unless you’re too tired...” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin.

your heart was racing, every inch of you aware of how close he was. “i’m not that tired,” you managed to say, your voice coming out softer than you intended. the way his lips curled into a smirk told you he liked your answer.

“good,” he said, pulling back just enough to look at you. his hands slid down to your waist, his grip firm as he lifted you effortlessly onto the bed. “because i’ve been waiting all night for this,” he admitted, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he leaned in closer, his lips hovering over yours. “to finally have you all to myself.”

his words made your breath hitch, and before you knew it, his lips were on yours. the kiss was slow but deep, a teasing pressure that left you wanting more. sylus was in no rush, his hands sliding down your sides, tracing the curve of your hips.

he pulled back just enough to look at you, his crimson eyes gleaming with heat. “you’re so beautiful, kitten. especially when you’re all mine.” his voice was low, filled with a possessiveness that made your heart race.

your fingers tangled in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, but sylus was in control. he leaned down, his lips brushing against your neck, pressing soft, lingering kisses that made you shiver. “sylus...” you whispered, your voice breathless.

“mm?” he hummed against your skin, his hands sliding under your top, his touch warm and slow. “tell me what you want,” he teased, his lips moving against your collarbone.

you bit your lip, trying to hold back the rush of heat spreading through you. “i want you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

his smirk widened as he pulled back to look at you, his eyes dark and filled with desire. “i like the way you say that,” he murmured, his hand trailing up your side, teasing the hem of your skirt. “but i’m going to take my time with you tonight.”

he leaned down again, kissing you with more intensity this time, his hands roaming over your body with a deliberate slowness that left you breathless. the teasing, the flirting, the tension—it was all building, and sylus was enjoying every second of it.

“you’re mine,” he whispered against your lips, his voice a low growl. “and tonight, i’m going to remind you just how much you belong to me.”