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lady-phasma · 7 months ago

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Happiness at the end of the world

Chapter 3 of ?

Daryl Dixon x OFC

Warnings: 18+ MDNI; this is really different than anything I have ever shared on Tumblr before - it's fluffy and has lots of feelings and quite a few warnings; Smut, Not Canon Compliant, PTSD, mentions of past SA, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Demisexual Daryl Dixon, p in v sex, ultra-Light Dom/sub

Summary a/n: I'm terrible at summaries, it's just more fluffy smutty stuff like chapter 2. No beta. 4.5k words.

Kristina scrubbed her eyes with her fists and squinted at the sun light. They had fallen asleep, possibly overslept. Thankfully neither of them had a run planned. Daryl might have work detail, she wasn’t sure, but she had the day off. He would probably need to take Dog out soon. She yawned as silently as she could manage, not wanting to wake Daryl yet. She was surprised to find she had fallen asleep naked. He was still wearing his jeans. He was barely snoring but the soft sound made her smile. She snuggled in close to his side. One of his arms was flung above his head, the other draped across his chest. She put her head close to his arm pit, indulging in the guilty pleasure of how wonderful he smelled, embarrassed even though only she knew. She thought she might not care if he did know, he would probably like that she liked it. She curled next to him, took a deep breath, and slipped her hand under his on his chest.

He stirred just a bit, one eye opening to assess the interruption, then he swept his arm down and crushed her into his side. She smiled against his skin. The illusion of being small with him would never get old. She let her mind wander and relished being here, in the moment, no urgency. She savored it. Her thoughts drifted through the sleepy fog of memories from the previous night. She was more satisfied than she had been in years. She watched his stomach as he breathed, the sunlight from the window highlighting a few scars and fine blond hairs. It took all of her willpower to resist the impulse to touch them, move her palm over and down his stomach. The waist of his jeans was low on his hips, revealing the darker hair just below his bellybutton. Of course she noticed the bulge in his jeans. Her mouth watered. She suspected it wasn’t a particularly comfortable way to sleep.

Her lazy thoughts drifted through things she would like to do with him, to him, back to their present arrangement, and then to coffee. It was a luxury she had long ago learned to live without but this morning felt so normal, so like before, that she could almost smell the dark roast in the French press. An impromptu fantasy formulated in her mind’s eye of a world without walkers, Daryl in her bed in her last apartment. Laying with him on a Saturday maybe, windows open to let in the cool spring morning air. The smell of him, coffee, clean sheets, and the anticipation of toothpaste combined into a snapshot that made her a little melancholy. She let the thought of toothpaste guide her back to the present and wondered if he had any. He probably did, he had the basics most of the time.

She wriggled from under his arm. When she started walking to the bathroom she was very aware of her nakedness but didn’t cover up, just in case he was awake enough to watch her. She smiled to herself as she searched the bathroom sink and medicine cabinet for toothpaste. Fuck yes, she thought, as she picked up a flat, rolled up, tiny tube of the stuff. She never knew she would love it, miss it, so much. With just the tiniest spot of it on her finger she scrubbed at her teeth. Her toothbrush was at her place. She took her time, it was a lovely feeling, then sipped some water from the faucet and rinsed. She breathed into her palm, sniffed, and was satisfied that most of the morning breath was gone.

Daryl had at least one eye on her as she stepped out of the bathroom. He tried to play possum but she saw his eyelids flutter. She leaned against the door frame. If he was pretending then he would be curious when he didn’t hear the expected footsteps approach or feel the dip in the mattress as she got back in bed. Ha! There it was again.

“Playin’ possum, huh?” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“Huh?” he opened his eyes slowly but his lips made a tight line as he suppressed a smile.

“Yeah that’s what I thought,” she walked toward the bed. She tossed the toothpaste at him. “I’ll pay you back what I used and find some more on my next run. That shit needs to be a priority unless some hippie around here can make us some from tree bark and dandelions or some shit.”

He scoff-laughed and picked up the tube from the bed. She knew him pretty well, knew he wouldn’t care if he had water or not. In a pinch just the paste would do and she didn’t want him out of bed just yet. She stood at the side of the bed as he pushed his toothpaste around his mouth. No one ever looked dignified “brushing” their teeth with their finger. She waited until he was done and held out her hand for the tube.

“Wha?” he asked.

“Gimme and I’ll take it back to the bathroom,” she answered, making a grabbing motion with her hand.

“Nah,” he said, tossing the tube on the floor. “Com’ere.”

She blushed while she hesitated. She had wanted his attention, that’s why she hadn’t put on clothes. However, Daryl’s attention was intense, she kept forgetting that.

He put his hand out to her but he remained laying down. She gingerly stepped onto the mattress, using his hand for balance. She was unsure where he wanted her so she stood, one foot on either side of his hips. She felt a bit like an Amazon and didn’t hate it. He slid his hand out of hers, letting each finger trail down hers. His eyes moved slowly over her. Just before she was about to sit down or run or sink into a hole in the floor, he sat up and slid his hands up both legs from her ankles, over her calves, and cupped her ass. Their communication was simple, silent queues, pressure with fingertips, glances with eyes. She loved it. Some combination of his signs instructed her to kneel, straddling him. She did.

She shivered. It wasn’t a cold morning at all but she felt like all the heat in the room was now only where their skin touched. His grip on her ass never faltered. This helped her get to her knees gracefully instead of the careless, unsexy way she probably would have done on her own. He also wouldn’t let her sit back on her heels. As much as he was learning her, she was learning him and she had not moved her hands from her sides since he let her hand go. She was looking at him, shivering a little, and struggling to think of anything other than her bare pussy spread open exactly how he wanted it. She blushed a deeper shade of pink.

“Mornin’,” he said. Before she could reply he moved both hands in tandem to cup her ass cheeks. She bit her bottom lip. Then his fingers began to move between her thighs. One hand held her thigh from behind, the other found her pussy.

“Ya get wet real fast, huh?” he grinned. She nodded, lower lip still pinched between her teeth.

“How come?” he asked.

“Uh, you, uh,” she mumbled and gulped and remembered she actually knew words. “You make me wet. Thinking about you, looking at you, smelling you…” She trailed off. His eyes had flashed a little at the last one.

“Mmmmhm,” he responded. Then he started to move his fingers. The sensation of being played with from behind while looking at him made her knees weak and her mouth dry.

He pulled her legs toward him, for better reach, but she lost her balance a bit and steadied herself with her hands on his shoulders. She was now straddling his lap, her stomach almost pressed against his. He looked at her and slowly shook his head. As soon as she understood she dropped her hands from his shoulders and made an apologetic face. His face was unreadable.

Then his fingers parted her lips and pressed against her clit. He stroked back the full length and then forward again, stopping to dip into her and then out quickly to circle her clit. He repeated the motion. God she was dripping wet. His hands were rough and felt amazing on her sensitive skin, on her swollen clit. She had never been stroked in quite this way before and found herself once again admiring his instincts.

“Oh Daryl,” she moaned. “Oh shit you feel so good.”

“Yeah, ya like that,” he growled. “Ya want me to make you come?”

“Fuck, please,” she begged. She had started to sway with his rhythm and her back arched to push her hips closer to him.

“Nah,” he said as he pulled his fingers out. Her eyes flew open at the sudden loss of stimulation. Before she could protest she watched him lick his fingers, tasting her, and she moaned.

His other hand still held her in place. Her breasts were nearly level with his mouth and he leaned forward sucking a nipple into his mouth. She squirmed and his grip on her thigh tightened. He placed his other hand on her side, high up on her ribs, and pulled her chest closer. She felt off-balance and unsteady. Every sensation from his mouth and hands on her tugged at her cunt with electric strings.

“Daryl, please,” she moaned.

“Please what?” he immediately put his mouth back on her nipple.

“Can I please touch you?” she whispered. She wasn’t afraid to ask but was unsure of the answer.

An mmhmm vibrated from his mouth through her nipple and straight to her clit. Her hands flew to his hair and grabbed fistfuls. Her hands roamed everywhere without thought. She caressed his neck and shoulders, his chest, arms, anything she could reach while remaining upright. She kept her eyes closed and made a mental map of him. He had given both nipples attention as well as the sensitive skin under her breasts. The sensory overload forced unintentional sounds from her.

He hands rested on his upper arms. She couldn’t get enough of his biceps flexing under her fingertips. She didn’t grip to steady herself, she didn’t need to.

His mouth moved away from her and his hands began to slide to her hips, his thumbs pressed hard in the hollow of her hip bones. He understood how much she enjoyed that almost immediately the night before. He gently pulled down on her hips so that she was sitting on his lap. Her knees ached but she cared with only a small sliver of her mind. His dick was so hard that she gasped when her pussy came to rest on the zipper of his jeans.

Kristina took advantage of the permission to touch him and slid her hands to the back of his neck. She held his gaze while she moved close enough to kiss him but stopped just out of reach. He leaned in to meet her lips and she pulled back, teasing, grinning a little. She enjoyed having his lips just out of reach, sharing his air, watching his expression change from control to something like pursuit. She darted out her tongue and licked his bottom lip. He was faster than her. He pressed his lips against hers and tugged at her bottom lip with his teeth. She moaned into his mouth as he released it. She wanted to learn every way he liked to be kissed, felt she could do that all day. She moaned again when he forced her mouth open with his tongue. He responded to her moans by gripping her hips and adjusting his.

His jeans were rough and delightful against her. She was almost sure they were soaked by now. She was aching and couldn’t imagine how he must feel. She wanted to make him feel everything, help him experience everything, she was impatient. As they kissed she moved her hands from his neck to his chest. She ran her fingers through the rough hair and avoided the scars she could remember with her eyes closed. She was learning as quickly as she could but sometimes part of learning was testing. She let her fingertips graze his nipple, her nails tracing the muscles of his pecs, and returned to his nipple. Each time she did, he moaned and slightly rolled his hips.

She didn’t want to be made to choose but this new information was intriguing so she pulled back from their kiss. She placed small, delicate kisses up the line of his jaw to his ear, and breathed hotly next to it. She increased the pressure of her fingers as she passed over his nipple again. Slowly, she told herself, don’t rush. She circled her other arm around his shoulder and pulled him closer. There was almost no space between them She loved this closeness. She got a bit braver and made gentle circles around his nipple. His short, quick breathes guided her. His head was in the curve of her neck and he was lazily sucking and kissing her neck and collarbone. She hummed, licked his earlobe, rolled her hips, and almost pinched at his nipple.

This was too much. Daryl grabbed her by the waist, moved her off his lap, and almost pushed her onto her back. He was hovering over her before her surprise had subsided. She giggled. She squirmed a bit, wiggling her hips and him, taunting him. Her giggles turned into quiet laughter at the look on his face. God it was endearing. It was a comical mix of delight and annoyance but with a trace of something like fear.

He began to smother her chest and stomach and hips with greedy, kisses, sucking and nibbling at times. Her laughter transformed into panting and moaning as he slipped a thigh between her legs. He ground the coarse denim against her as he kept kissing. When she felt his teeth she arched her back toward him, forcing her hips against his thigh. He groped and searched for her wrists while his kissing slowed. He brought them together in one hand and pinned them above her head. He raised up to do this and was looking down at her, hunger and need in his blue eyes.

Kristina defied him and raised her head to kiss his chest, reach her mouth almost a nipple. He pressed harder on her wrists, not painfully, and she dropped her head back on the pillow. She bit her lower lip in a challenge. He made a point to push his leg against her cunt as he moved off the bed. She knew better than to lower her arms. She had no idea what he was doing until he walked back into the room with one of his bandanas. He got back on the bed, straddling her. The cloth smelled of motorcycles and Daryl and earth as he wrapped it around her wrists. After he tied the knot he tugged on it and her arms moved but her wrists stayed together.

He looked at her. Just looked. She tried to make her face unreadable but the more she tried the hotter the blush felt. He got up from the mattress again. He assessed the scene and tapped the inside of one of her ankles. He was gentle but knew what he wanted. She spread her legs.

He nodded once, satisfied, and the rested a hand on the fly of his jeans. He held her gaze to ensure she was watching. He was insecure about almost everything about himself except his abilities to track and hunt. Only a day ago what he was doing now only existed in his imagination, nothing he could actually do. Kristina looked at him the way he looked at her. He wasn’t comfortable in his skin, might never be, but that seemed okay when he was with her. She didn’t expect him to be. Not that he thought she preferred he be some beat up mess but that it didn’t really matter to her or if it did at all it only made her enjoy him more. He always overthought, analyzed, tried to anticipate what would happen next. A survival skill he developed to dodge words and fists and pain. Last night he had moments when his brain took a break from the extra work, when his world was nothing but being wrapped up in her. He could do that as long as she would let him.

So with her he did things that scared him at first or made himself feel a little unhinged. He was sure her psychology shit had words for all that. The words didn’t matter to him. He just wanted to keep returning to that edge and finding out that he could go past it. And that he had someone who stood on the other side with her hand out, helping him. He rarely felt brave, he did what was necessary, but there was a small flicker of bravery when he pushed past the fear.

He watched as her eyes did what he wanted and followed his hand to his jeans. He cupped the bulge, pressed the zipper a little too hard against his dick, but the slight pain helped him focus. Once his jeans were unzipped his narrow hips couldn’t hold them up. He let them fall to the floor and stepped out of them. She licked her lips. He liked that a lot. He enjoyed being able to watch her shallow breathing in the sway of her breasts, how her belly rose and fell, close to panting.

He wrapped his hand around his dick and stroked, long, lazy strokes. Her eyes followed. He swiped the precum off the tip and she licked her lips again. Oh yeah? he thought. He leaned over the mattress and painted her bottom lip with it. Her eyes nearly closed as she slid her tongue out to taste it. Watching her enjoy that tugged at the base of his dick and he groaned through gritted teeth. He knelt down next to her, hand back on his aching dick, and licked at her nipples, her belly button, kissed her carefully above her pussy. He breathed in her smell. He wanted his mouth on her, to taste her, feel her with his tongue, almost as much as he wanted to fuck her. He had already moved his mouth away though. The very fucking last thing he ever wanted was to make her uncomfortable. He kissed her ribs, her arm pit, mostly to watch her squirm but also to learn all of her smells, kissed her elbow, and her curled fingers.

Her eyes narrowed as she watched him sit down beside her. He reached over and helped her sit up, her bound wrists making that action particularly difficult. Then he guided her over him while he lay back. She let herself be led. He positioned her straddling him, she was so easy to move like this, compliant, willing, but, most of all, enthusiastic about letting him take control. She sucked in a small gasp of air when he had her where he wanted. Her pussy rested on his lower stomach and his dick was hard against her ass.

He slid his hands in tandem over the insides of her thighs, let his thumbs brush her swollen lips, press into her hips, and continued up her sides, along her ribs, and then pulled her down onto him. Her arms relaxed with her wrists on the pillow just above his head. She felt almost weightless. The only part of her not supported by him were her knees. When he breathed she felt herself lifted with him, her breasts pressed hard into his chest. He placed a gentle kiss on her lips as he moved his hands to her ass. She liked being able to figure him out and not be too many steps behind. He wanted her to get used to letting him hold her up, feel safe.

Daryl kissed her cheek, her neck, her arm beside his head, and started to lift her ass. For a moment he knew it would be awkward and difficult for her but he had her. Having her lay on top of him was a wonderful feeling. For a brief flash he wished he could communicate that to her in words but then he focused on where his hands were. He had to strain just a little to reach behind her. He guided the tip of his dick into her hot, wet pussy, taking his time to brush against her clit before fully sliding in. Then he slowly pressed her hips down with his hands. She didn’t make a sound, she only breathed, her head tucked between them. Her breath was warm and almost damp on his chest.

He groaned enough for both of them. He adjusted his hips for a better angle and they both hitched in breaths. He didn’t know quite where to put his hands so he placed one on her lower back. When he brought his hips up he could keep her steady with that hand. She made a soft purring sound when he did that. He pulled out a little and slid back in, repeated, just to hear that sound again. His other hand searched her body as he rolled his hips. He wasn’t fucking her yet. He wanted to go slow as long as he could. When his fingers grazed the fold of her hip she twitched away from his hand but pressed her hips into his. He touched the side of her belly, she was so soft that he sighed, nothing in this world was soft anymore. He gently worked his hand between them, palm on her stomach, and circled her clit with a finger.

She pushed down onto his hand. She wasn’t in control of her body anymore. Her hips moved without her instruction, her arms were jelly beside his head, her mind was empty, and now every nerve in her body was either focused on her clit or his dick inside her. The slow, steady rhythm of his hips and finger were overwhelming. She wanted to grope and grab at something. Her hands clenched into fists. With her wrists bound she couldn’t touch anything. Her forehead was pressed hard into his chest and she was breathing her own recycled air in the space between them. He held her still with his hand on her back and couldn’t fuck him like every part of her ached to do. Panting, her eyes closed tight, she could feel her lips on his chest. Without thinking she bit. She knew it wasn’t hard, probably not even enough to bruise, but it was the only action her mind could find.

“Shit,” Daryl groaned, at first in surprise and then a wave of intense feeling ran from her mouth to his dick. His hips jerked as a reflex and she gasped. The place where she had bit him throbbed momentarily. He snatched his hand from between their bodies. He grabbed her with all of his strength and rolled them over. Kristina made a small oof sound and when he looked at her to make sure she was okay she was smiling. In one smooth motion he pinned her bound wrists above her head with one hand and swept one of her legs over his shoulder with the other.

He thrust deeper into her. He leaned into her leg as far as he felt he could without hurting her and put his mouth next to her ear.

“This what ya want woman?” he asked through gritted teeth, quickening his pace with shallower, faster thrusts. “Ya wanna be bad, that it?”

“Yes, oh god, yes Daryl,” she yelled. “Fuck!”

“Fine,” he growled as he lifted himself up enough to move his hand from her wrists. At first he gently slid his hand to her throat. She looked into his eyes and nodded. He squeezed and she rasped out a please. Just a bit more pressure and they found the sweet spot. Her breath was ragged and her eyes rolled back. He felt her leg wrap around him, pressing on his ass to push him deeper. His thrusts became more erratic as her muscles tightened around his dick.

He watched her face carefully as his orgasm started to tug at him. Her lips were parted, her eyes shut, and her cheeks flushed. She was so beautiful. Seeing his rough, tan hand around her pale throat nearly sent him over the edge. He didn’t pull back on his last thrust, he ground his hips against hers. He felt her groan in his hand before he heard it. Then he released her neck and her body rocked against him. Her muscles pulsed around his dick.

Her orgasm tore through her. She yelled his name and gasped. Loud, hitching breaths shook her chest. He let her leg slide off his shoulder, wrapped his arms around her, and buried his face in her breasts. His hips bucked against her. He felt her hands find his neck.The bandana strained against her movement. The sensation of the fabric on his skin made him moan a quiet, drawn-out fuck against her chest. He felt his cum pour into her. She wrapped her legs around him and held him as his entire body vibrated.

Kristina kissed the top of his head. She loved his smell and nuzzled her face into his hair for a moment longer. She felt his body relax on top of her. Her pulse pounded in her ears, her wrists, her cunt. His cum seeped out from between them before he pulled out. He slid his arms from underneath her and raised up to see her watching him. She held her bound wrists in front of her face. He didn’t think he had ever seen someone as beautiful as her in his life. He carefully pulled out of her with a small moan in his throat. He sat up and untied the bandana. He pressed his lips against each wrist. When he let her hands go she sat up and kissed him hard.

She flopped back down on the mattress, completely graceless. Daryl laid down beside her. She kissed his shoulder. It was so easy for them to forget what the world was like now. Walkers didn’t exist, they didn’t have to forage for toothpaste, potable water wasn’t a limited resource. Unfortunately this spell would break. They would have some daily tasks to do and normal human things to attend to but for a moment she enjoyed this small bubble of peace.

“Guess Dog’ll be needed some attention,” Daryl sighed. “Imma take him out and feed him. Ya want breakfast too?”

She smiled and nodded, her eyes half closed.

#I have about 5k words of chapt 4 done already #daryl smut #daryl dixon x oc #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon #daryl x oc #twd fanfiction #cw ptsd #tw ptsd

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