all of you

2

A really quick sketch to say THANK YOU!
It’s insane for me that within two, maybe four days so many people began to follow me (like 100 ppl???). IT’S SO CRAZY!
I don’t even know WHY you are following such a miserable artist like me ;;;;;;
Anyway THANK YOU AGAIN SO MUCH!

(More villainous/paperhat will come soon)

anonymous asked:

I have a prompt I can't find a good story of & don't trust myself to try & I just luv your minis. Maui & Moana on an adventure, or coming back from their latest one & one of the high tier deities meets them at Motunui or en route home & tells Moana she's being made a demigoddess. And Moana, instead of just accepting it & taking the shiny new weapon, argues & finally says okay so long as she can still be chief until she trains a replacement & her signed oar is made her demigodly weapon of choice.

Here we go, the last of Minis! In a startling move, Seren has edited exactly 0% of this fic. That’s right, folks - the first ever Serenscribble that’s not been looked over, not one bit!

To @kayasurin​ and the anon who suggested “anything you can do I can do better”, I’m sorry that I couldn’t fill your prompts. Thank you for dropping them by me regardless. :)

I hope you enjoy this final installment!


Truth be told, much as you complain about Moana’s incessant babbling, you’re getting kinda worried - toward the beginning, not even your lighthearted quips and good-natured ribbing could get her to speak. Even after you’d trailed off into a silence more awkward than you’re willing to admit, telling yourself it was to make her uncomfortable enough just to break it, Moana’s made not even a sound.

“This doesn’t feel right,” she says slowly, ponderously, still holding that staff like it’s a newborn child. You’re relieved that it’s not something more along the lines of I’m gonna go sulk to the ocean for the next few days, at least she’s actually opening up to you about it.

The doubt, the uncertainty that comes with being immortal, though - that you can deal with. It’s with a grin perhaps a smidge larger than you’d intended that you respond. “It’s not supposed to feel right. ‘s immortality, Curly, it’s gonna take a little while to settle correctly.”

Keep reading

the thing is, somebody cares. i know your best friend seems really busy all the time and is shit at texting but she still loves you and she talks to you more than she talks to anyone else and you’re the only breath of calm she has on this planet. the boy in your science class loves seeing what music you’re listening to on your headphones - he has the same taste and wishes he had the nerve to ask you about it. your english teacher loves the insight you have on your papers. somebody cares. the person who lives down the street from you notices when you are sick because they don’t see you stomping your way to the schoolbus - it’s how they know it’s time to get their breakfast ready. somebody is looking for you at the party, even if they don’t know they’re really looking for you - but when you don’t show up, some part of them is disappointed. somebody is looking for you in the library, in the spot where you eat lunch, in front of that one step you always seem to trip on. i know your parents are a complicated mess and there’s drama between your friends and your love life is sort of shaped like a constant question and everybody seems all caught up in their own lives and their own happiness and nobody really notices: but somebody always does. every face in your dreams is someone you have met, and that means that you are in a million’s stranger’s heads. they see you when they go to bed. and somebody cares. somebody still thinks about you even though you were just a person with a nice outfit or good eyeliner or a great smile or because you were having one of those moments that are so charmingly human in nature or because they regret not asking if you needed help when you fell or because they wonder what you were thinking about or drawing or writing or just because you’re alive, and that makes you fascinating. somebody cares. when you were on break from work and saw a dog hanging his head out of the car and suddenly broke into a smile: there was a girl in the back of that car, and I was her, and I still think about you, and i hope you get more chances to smile like that. and there is you, sitting here reading this, and by some small extension, meeting me, and i am telling you, I care. somebody always does. i promise. i promise. you are loved.

To all my aromantic but not asexual pals, I love you. No, you’re not broken. No, you’re not just using people for sex. No, who you are isn’t wrong. And no, you’re not a bad person because of this. Trust me. You’re not contributing to sexualisation or creating misogyny. You’re perfect the way you are. You are all so amazing and wonderful and I love you all. Please stay safe and have a wonderful holiday season.

  • Overwatch fandom: How could GENCY be canon? Het relationships are the WORST thing that can happen how can they not make Pharmercy (a relationship never even hinted at) canon? It must mean they hate wlw. Ignore the fact that the first canon relationship outside of Gerard/Amelie was Tracer and Emily. Obviously they hate wlw.
  • Het Overwatch fans: this,,,, this HETEROPHOBIA. Every single straight relationship is good. Obviously every other character besides Tracer is cishet. McHanzo could never happen. Here's 10,000 unwanted het ships that don't even make sense in the game's canon and have no chemistry. I'm also going to make a fuckton of posts whining about the EVIL GAYS wanting to make everything GAY.
  • Me, a humble bisexual breadfarmer and multishipper: this discourse is not good for the crops, you fools. if we starve, our deaths will be on all of your hands.
¿Sabes algo? No me arrepiento de todo lo que te dije alguna vez, ni de los sueños ni la vida que quise una vez contigo; al contrario, te agradezco porque aprendí de ti muchas cosas, conocí el amor y ahora una decepción, el dolor y la traición, pero, te deseo que te vaya bien en tu vida, ahora sin mi. -Le dije mientras mi alma se desgarraba.
—  Níetzsche para ilustrarse.
THE DISRESPECT!!!

Seventeen has disrespected me once again and I’m not okay but I am okay. HOW DARE YOU DO THIS TO ME. JIHOON HAS PINK HAIR AND JOSHUA HAS PURPLE AND VERNONS FOREHEAD.

Okay, Undertale fandom. Listen up.

No no no no. Just no. I’m not gonna deal with this crap.

Please, all of you, tell me exactly where in Undertale it says that Frisk is gender less? Got anything? No? Okay, then be quiet.

I really, really don’t know where it started, maybe it’s because people didn’t think about it before they blurted it out. Frisk doesn’t have a canon gender, therefore they must be gender less, right?

Wrong.

I’m really not having this. It’s just ridiculous. Never, anywhere in the game does it say Frisk is gender less. True, it never says she is female. It never says she is male. It never says anything, and guess what?

That’s the point.

It’s not meant to say anything.

Why?

Because Frisk is you. Frisk is the player. She is the person being controlled throughout the game, she is the one that you are playing as, she is you. Which means that whatever gender you see her as, you damn well go for it! I just- I can’t believe all of you have forgotten how RPG’s work. In most RPG’s, you choose the character’s gender before the game.

And as I’m sure you all noticed, this hasn’t been done in Undertale. Why?

It’s done to not define Frisk, the player, you as two single genders - so you can see Frisk as gender less, as transgender, as gender fluid. And that’s amazing, it really is. I love the thought of it.

So when did this creative and inclusive idea suddenly turn into calling out or attacking people who consider Frisk as female or male?

It’s ridiculous, isn’t it? I get that trans and genderless and gender fluid get treated so badly and I really hate that. But that’s not an excuse to forget or shun the existence of male and female. And I’m sorry, but I am 100% female and always will be. So to me? Unless canonically a certain gender in an Undertale AU, Frisk, to me? Will always be 100% female. Undertale Frisk. I’ve created my own AU (or have it in the works) where Chara is female and Frisk is genderless - not because it’s Undertale canon, not because of respect towards genderless people but because it suits them. Because I like it. And if that, as a genderless person makes you feel happy, then great! If you as a genderless, transgender or gender fluid person like seeing Frisk as any of those because it makes you happy then great! Go for it, I’m not gonna stop you :)

But I like seeing Frisk as female because it makes me happy.

So why can’t I do that?

All of You (I Want All of You) | (Part 2) | (Part 3)

Daryl x Reader Smut Warning! 18+ Only! NSFW

A/N: This was a request, hope I get it right. :) My first post-negan era smut piece. Daryl is in the Sanctuary still and is approached by Negan’s daughter (Reader), she takes a liking to him and smut ensues. I didn’t get to the ‘Negan doesn’t approve’ part of the request, may have to make a second part if people like it.

—–

Y/N hated it here. All the men constantly eye fucking her and making lude jokes when he wasn’t around and all the women disgusted by her because she was his daughter. Not like you had any choice in the matter, if you had had a choice you would rather be out on your own taking your chances with the dead. You claw a little at your bedroom window, high above the sanctuary, staring jealously at the staggering walkers you see clawing their way toward the Sanctuary’s gate. One of your father’s men put it down immediately. You sigh in dissatisfaction and close the white lace curtain over the frame again and plop down on your bed.

I am so fucking bored. You say to yourself and begin to play absentmindedly with your hands. Suddenly your door slams open and your father makes his presence known.

“Y/N, I thought I told you I wanted to have dinner with you tonight? Get your ass over to the dining room.” Negan gruffly cried out, the vein in his neck popping from your disobedience. You roll your eyes and sit back up.

“Sorry, dad. I lost track of time.” You huff and walk out the door in front of him and head down the hallway to the small dining room his men had set up for us. You sit down at the four post wooden table and notice that the meal is already laid out for both of you, complete with placemats, utensils lined up on the right side, wine glasses, and a bowl of some sort of soup, still steaming with heat.

“What the fuck is this a five-star restaurant?” You scoff and slump down into the chair, disrespectfully.

You father sits down on the opposite side of the table, smiling to himself at the scene. His demeanor changes slightly at your words, “You’d do well to remember how good you have it Y/N.” He growled with a hint of anger.

“Oh yeah. How fucking good I have it.” You roll your eyes and begin to slurp your soup, you can taste corn, tomatoes, and green beans, as the hot liquid slides down your throat.

One of Negan’s men saunters into the room with a bottle of wine, ready to pour into both of your glasses. You allow him to fill your glass, after he pops the cork, you nod in appreciation. Alcohol was one of the only things that got your through with these assholes some days.

The man walks over to fill Negan’s glass and he looks up at the servant, covering his glass with his hand.

“Timothy, fucking tell me this is the merlot and not that fake grape shit again.” He glares at the man.

The man steps back a little, with fear in his eyes, looking again at the bottle, “Yes, sir.”

Negan removes his hand and nods, in a gesture to the man to continue. With now shaky hands the man pours Negan a glass, setting the bottle on the table.

“Will there be anything else, sir?” The man picks a point on the wall behind you both to fixate on as he speaks, with his arms militantly behind his back.

“No.” Negan replies shortly. The man nods once and turns to walk out of the room.

“Jesus, Dad.” You say, chuckling a little to yourself at what a dick he could be sometimes.

“What?” Negan replies, looking at her with laughter in his eye.

You laugh a little to yourself as you lift the bowl in front of you and gulp down the remaining liquid, wiping your hand across your face after you were done. You lift the glass of wine to your lips and sip on the liquid, watching as your father hungrily finishes his own dinner, and takes a sip of his own red elixir.

“So…” Negan begins, swirling the red liquid around in his glass.

Here we go. You thought and tensed up a little, taking a big swig of your drink this time.

“Have you thought anymore about what we discussed the other day?” He asked.

You grimaced a little and sighed heavily. As if it wasn’t bad enough being stuck in this post-apocalyptic world with a bunch of these losers, your dad now continued to insist you pick one for your own. You were a grown ass woman and here he is treating you like a teenager, asking you continuously if you had a boyfriend yet. You took another big gulp, nearly finishing your glass off, and stared your father down.

“What makes you think I would ever want to date one of your servants? None of them have any balls, they are all just a bunch of whining bastards that hide behind you. I want a real man and there doesn’t seem to be any around here.” You finish off your glass and slump back in your chair with your arms folded.

Negan sighed, “I know they aren’t much to pick from Y/N, but I want to know that you are protected when I’m gone or if something happens to me.” He says his voice softening, which didn’t happen much these days.

You relax your arms a little at his concern, “I know you are worried, dad. But I’m going to be okay all on my own.” Even before the world went to shit your dad was always worried about you, you didn’t date much, mostly because you were picky af and no one ever really measured up to your standards.

“Besides some whiny bitch boy isn’t going to be able to protect me anyway.” You scoff making Negan laugh out loud and lighten up again, that was the strong-willed daughter he knew and loved.

He took another swig of his wine and giggled a little.

“I’m just sayin… Fuck Y/N, we own this place and these people, you could have anyone you wanted, take your fucking pick.” He finishes the conversation there and gulps down the rest of his glass.

“When I find a man worthy of me, I’ll let you know. But don’t hold your breath.” You say toughly with a side smirk, something you definitely had gotten from the man sitting in front of you.

He chuckled again, nodding his head, while looking down.

You sigh a little, debating whether or not to have another glass of wine. Wine wasn’t your favorite, but you loved to feel the rush of the alcohol as it moved through you.

“Wish I could get a really fucking drink!” You say loudly, cocking your head to the side, looking at the doorway where the servant had entered before, nothing.

Negan sighed and nodded, he took a pair of keys out of his pocket and throw them across the table, they landed next to you with a thud.

“Go ahead. Take those down to the kitchen, I know we scavenged some good shit last week, take what you want Y/N.” He got up, not bothering to pick up any dishes, knowing that would be taken care of for him. He walked over to you and gave you a tussle on the top of your head.

“I’m fucking exhausted. I’m going to bed. Have a good night Y/N.” You smiled a little up at him and nodded. He walked over to the doorway before stopping at the frame and glancing back.

“Oh. And thanks for having dinner with your old man.” He smirks a little and heads out the door.

You grab the keys into your hands and get up out of your seat. Timothy waited until you were both out of the room to come back in and clean everything up.

You slide your hand along the concrete walls absentmindedly as your fingers traced them, room after room. You made your way down the stairs from the tower where you and your father’s rooms were, to the main floor where all the servants beds were huddled together like this was fucking sleepaway camp, you scoff a little at their cowardice. Heaven forbid they had to actually stand on their own two feet. You thought angrily, but pushed it out of your mind. You tried to never spend too much time thinking about them.

Your fingertips grazed down the long metal railing as your feet hit a long descending stairway into the basement. Your feet tapped along the hard cement floor as you walked off the stairs and turned right down the next hallway. You could see the four cell doors that were in front of you, on the left-hand side. You traced these metal doors, wondering who was in them. Poor bastards. You thought, wincing a little. You loved your father but you had never agreed with his tactics, not that you had a choice in the matter.

You lightly touch each door, silently hoping they were empty, but knowing in your gut that probably wasn’t true. After you pass the cell doors you take right and walk down another long hallway, until you reach the giant double doors of the dining room, which lead into the huge kitchen. You notice the padlock on the doors is unlocked and the chain is hanging to the side. Someone must be in here. You thought to yourself, confused as it was late and most people were already asleep.

You pull the doors open with dominance and walk into the room with authority, scanning for whoever was in the room. Your eyes scan the dining room tables, nothing, then in the corner of the room, behind the tables, you spot Dwight and another man dressed in a crappy white sweatshirt and matching sweats. Dwight is standing over this man, with folded arms and demeaning eyes. The man has his head low and a bunch of his hair in his face, as he mops up and cleans the floor of the mess hall.

Dwight’s head snaps over in your direction when he hears the you walk in, he smiles cockily. The other man does not look up and just continues about his task, walking over to push the mop back into the yellow bucket beside him.

“Hey there, Y/N.” Dwight says, licking his lips and looking you up and down.

Pig. You thought to yourself, folding your arms over your plain white t-shirt, that clung to your body.

“Dwight.” You say stoically, before walking over to the kitchen. You disappear behind the kitchen doors and start looking for the boxes your father had said were down here. You smile as you see what you came for, a bottle of half way decent vodka, your favorite. You grab a glass out of the cupboard and pour yourself a shot, downing it quickly and pouring another. You watch out the windows of the kitchen doors as Dwight stands over the man with dominance, spitting something hateful at him. You took another shot, grabbed the bottle and went back out into the dining room and sat on a table a couple of feet away from the man.

“Jesus, Dwight, can’t the man do his job without you whining at him like a little piss ant?” You laugh a little at yourself, and sip on your drink again. The best part about being Negan’s daughter is you could say whatever the fuck you wanted to whoever you wanted, and you really hated Dwight. Always acting like he was some kind of a God, when everyone knew he’s be the first to bend over to save his own ass.

Dwight says nothing for a moment and then walks over to you, putting his hands on the table you are sitting on, so that both hands are on either side of your cross-legged body. You just glared back at him, which made him chuckle a little.

“So, word is that your daddy is looking for someone to own you darlin.” He says coyly. You couldn’t tell if he was trying to flirt or just being creepy af, you decided probably both.

You kick your feet out and knock one of his hands off the table.

“That’s none of yours.” You say flatly.

“Well, what if I wanted to be this ‘someone,’ he teased, leaning closer still.

You scoff at this, “In your wet dreams Dwight.” You spat back at him.

“Why not?” He asked curiously. You knew he would never lay a hand on you without permission, so you were free to say whatever the fuck you wanted.

You took another swig from your glass and laughed a little.

“Really? ‘Why Not’? Well for starters I’m looking for a real man, someone who won’t bend over the minute my fucking father snaps his fingers. You are just like all the rest of them, except the size of your ego. But really, man?” You flick the vest he is wearing, flicking him on the side of his chest.

“Fuck, you can’t even live your life without stealing whatever someone else has. You think it is sexy to watch you walk around wishing you were someone else? I know who you stole this from, you’re pathetic.” You scoff at him. You had heard all the stories about a man named Daryl, the people from Alexandria, and Dwight’s run-ins with this mysterious figure. You had never met him, but he sounded like he was kickass and didn’t deserve Dwight’s wrath or humiliation tactics, hell no one did.

“I would never want a man like you.” You glare at him again, “Now, will you get the fuck out of here so I can enjoy my night?” You command him and he stands back up and begins to walk back over to the man with the mop.

“Come on, time to go back to your cage.” Dwight says and roughly grabs the man, who says nothing and allows himself to be whipped around.

“I said you get the fuck out of here. I’m a big girl, I can return him to his cell when he’s finished with his fucking job. He ain’t bothering me like you are and last I checked Negan doesn’t like when work goes unfinished.” Dwight sighed a little and looked away, as if you’d just kicked him in the balls. He says nothing more to the man or you and turns to walk out of the room.

“Shut the doors on your way out.” You command again.

Dwight walks to the doors and mumbles something, sounded like, “Bitch,” before slamming the doors shut behind him.

“Fucking Asshole.” You say out loud to yourself, pouring yourself another glass of liquid before setting the bottle back down beside you.

As your adrenaline subsides you remember suddenly that you are not alone in the room. You glance sideways to see the mystery man back to his task of mopping, his head still firmly fixed at the floor.

“Sorry about his shit.” You say lightly, the man does not respond, continuing to push the mop around in long strides. You notice how muscular he is, even under that god awful sweat suit. Your eyes take him in, he looked like he had been beaten several times over and was dirtier than you had ever seen someone, dirt clinging and crusting to his face and his hair, that fell over his silent eyes. Poor guy. You thought to yourself sadly.

You suddenly kicked your feet out from under you and scooted off the table, your feet slamming the concrete floor harshly. You walk over into the kitchen for a moment, not noticing the man’s eyes curiously on you for the first time. You re-emerge from the double doors with another glass in your hand. You walk over to the table that has your drink, grabbing your glass and the bottle before walking over to the table closest to the man. You pull two chairs out and slam both glasses down in front of each respective chair, that sit across from one another. You point to one of the chairs.

“Sit.” You commanded, but in a softer tone than you had used with Dwight.

His head slowly looked up, confusion in his eyes. He says nothing, but obeys.

You stand over him and begin to pour each of you a glass.

“I think you’ve earned a break.” You say with a sideways smile, before taking a seat in front of him, your back to the doors.

The man looks at the glass filled with liquid and does not touch it.

“Oh jesus, fuck.” You say, grabbing his glass and taking a swig, “I’m not here to poison you.” You laugh a little, harshly, and return his glass to him.

The man slowly takes the glass, using both of his big, rough hands to pull it to his lips for a small gulp. He winces a little as the alcohol hit a cut on his lower lip. You notice this and also notice all the cuts and bruising around his knuckles.

“Jesus, fuck. What the hell are they doing to you down here?” You ask angrily, more to yourself, as the man doesn’t seem to say anything. You shake your head in anger.

“I swear to fuckin god…” You say to yourself and walk back towards the kitchen. You fill up a small bucket of soapy water and grab a couple of towels. The mystery man takes another couple of swigs of his drink, happy to be drinking something other than dirt water.

You walk back over to the man, slide your chair out of the way and slide the table away, leaving your drinks on the wooden surface. You kneel down in front of the man, who sits in the chair more tense than ever.  You push one of the towels into the clean soapy water, and pull it out, wringing it in your hands a few times. You kneel up with the towel in your hand, he stares at you, trying not to show any emotion.

“My name is Y/N. I’m just going to clean you up a little okay?” You say with compassion in your eyes.

The man nodded a little and looked down, sadly.

You softly raise your hand up to brush the hair away from his eyes and notice his left eye is red and bruised from a beating, you guessed. You winced a little as your traced your fingers over it.

“Savages.” You mutter to yourself, making the man look sideways at you.

You begin to caress the warm wet towel over his forehead and over the inflicted eye, he growled a little at the pain.

“Sorry.” You say and continue down his face to run the fabric across his cheek, down his jaw, up to his other cheek, up to his other eye, down his nose, and finish by wiping all the dirt and blood off of his lips. He again growls when you hit the cut on his lip. You bend down and shove the towel back into the water, and wring it out again, you kneel back up and gently rub all the dirt and grime off of his neck, starting with the sides, moving to the back of his neck, and coming to the front, as you slowly use your other hand to push his head up so that you can clean the front of him. You slowly drudge the fabric up and down him and he moans out a little in pleasure. It felt so good to him to finally be rid of the dirt and grime he had had building up for weeks since they brought him here.

“There.” You say satisfied, with a little smile on your face, again removing the hair from his face and tucking it behind his ear. “And look, you can see those beautiful eyes now!” You smile proudly and bite your lip a little at your slip, the man didn’t seem to notice.

His eyes are softer now when he looks at you, but he still remains silent. You scoff a little.

“You are a quiet one, aren’t you?” You say out loud, still kneeling down by his side.

“At least tell me your name.” You said, starting to get a little irritated, you had little patience.

“Daryl.” He offered shortly and your eyes snapped up in surprise.

“Daryl? The Daryl?” You say, suddenly feeling like you were meeting your favorite superhero.

He scoffs a little as he allows his face to relax into a small smile and nods.

“Holy shit. You’re the stuff of legends around here.” You say laughing to yourself as you get back up and kick the bucket away. You pull the table over so that it is a few feet away from the man’s chair and hop back up onto the table, grabbing his glass and handing it to him, you grab yours as well.

You hold your glass out to him, in a gesture, he reaches out and clinks your glass.

“Man, I can’t believe I am meeting you! I was sure my father was going to kill you.” You say sadly looking at the ground. “But, if you’re still alive… He must have something big planned for you.” You say smiling a little, earning an angry growl from the man.

“I ain’t nobody’s bitch.” He says lowly and slams the liquid down his throat, reaching the empty glass out to you, gesturing he wanted more. You oblige, turning to grab the bottle behind you.

You turn back looking up at him through low eyes for a moment before filling the glass.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. I just mean it probably means he will keep you alive.” You say apologetically, filling the glass.

He looks at you, his eyes opening to you more with every second. “If you call this living.” He scoffs and gulps down the liquid again.

“I’d give anything to be out there.” You gesture to the world beyond those walls. “I’d rather take my chances alone in the woods than be stuck here with these assholes.” You scoff, earning you another look of confusion from the man.

“Out there ain’t a place for a girl like you.” The man called Daryl says, in a serious tone.

“A girl like me?” You ask playfully.

He glares up at you, “You’ve probably been behind these walls so long you wouldn’t know how to protect yourself, too used to everyone taking care of you.” He says a little angrily, taking you aback a little, he was not wrong.

“So, who takes care of you?” You ask curiously and his head snaps up at you again.

“No one takes care of me. I’m my own man.” He says glaring into your eyes.

Yes, you are. You thought to yourself as you allowed your gaze to run over this man you had heard so much about.

You lick your lips a little, feeling something you had not felt in a long time, longing. You remember the moments where your fingers caressed his face and his lips, you lean forward a little lost in your own thoughts.

Daryl stares at you seriously, awaiting your response.

“I could take care of you.” You say slowly and boldly.

“What?” He asks, he seriously had no fucking clue what was happening.

You slowly stand up from the table and walk over to him, sitting down on his lap, straddling him with both hands. You look playfully into his eyes, brushing his hair away to see more clearly into them. He sits there in shock, watching you intently. He wasn’t sure what kind of game this was.

You notice as  stiffens under you, as you sit on him and smile.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you, Daryl. In fact, I want to do my part to help you feel better.” You say before softly kissing his battered left eye. Daryl flinches his face away in reaction, before looking back again at you, his head as far back as it can go, looking at you angrily.

“Girl, what are you doin?!” He commands, staring intently into your eyes.

You smile and softly run your hands up and down the sides of his face, he was so beautiful, even covered in bruises and scratches.  You trace the hurt areas of his face slowly.

“I told you. I just want to make you feel better.” You say before pulling his face back to yours. You kiss him softly again on the eye, his forehead, down his cheek, before reaching his mouth. You look up at him and see that he is watching you intently, still confused, but his eyes softening, as did his tense reaction, you feel his body lean a little closer into you as you watch him. You smile into his eyes and then look back at his lips, you slowly kiss his lower lip, kissing the cut on it ever so lightly. You feel the man growl into your lips. You lick along his lips, grazing your tongue across his upper lip, trying to get him to allow you access.

You hear another, deeper growl and his lips begin to part. You slowly slide your tongue into his mouth and suck on his tongue, you feel him put his hands on you, resting on your sides. You moan a little at his touch, you forgot how good that felt. You being to swirl your tongue around his, slowly at first, and then picking up the pace, he pulls you slowly into him, willfully starting to kiss you back, swirling his tongue gently around yours. He moans into your mouth and you feel yourself getting wet just by the sound of him. You gently swirl your tongues around and around, it becomes more passionate with each second. You break away from his mouth and begin to kiss down his newly washed neck, first in the front, as he lifts his head in pleasure, and then making your way around to the side of his neck, devouring his skin with your mouth. You lick and suck up his neck and just under his ear, you nibble the sensitive area and feel him writhe underneath you.

You detach your mouth again and lean back in his lap to look at him. His eyes were glowing with lust as he looked you up and down, still a little confused by just what was happening. He looks over at the double doors that you had both came through and then back at you.

“Don’t worry. Everyone’s asleep.” You reassure him, taking one of his hands from your side and using your own hand to guide it up to your awaiting breast. You lean your head back and cry out a little as you use his hand to pleasure you.

“That feels so good.” You cry out to yourself and his hand begins to do the work on his own, gently massaging you over your bra. He begins to get braver and tries to shove his hand underneath your bra, under your shirt.

“Mmmm” He moans to himself as he feels your rock hard nipple under his hand, he massages and pinches it a few times, watching in pleasure as you moan to yourself.

You pull his hand away from you, dropping it back to his side.

“No, no, honey. This is all about you right now.” You moan, feeling yourself getting wetter by the moment, all you wanted was him all over you, but you wanted to make him feel better.

You get off of his lap and pull him up off of his chair, so that you are both standing facing each other, you look at his broad chest and shoulders and begin to caress your arms up and down them, first his shoulders, and then down his chest, until your hands reach the waistline of his sweatpants. You look down in between you and can see he is already so hard, you cup his cock from outside his pants and he cries out a little.

“Fuck.” He moans in reaction. You smile and reach your hands back up to his waistline. Ever so slowly you begin to pull down his pants, you kneeling down to the floor as the fabric does the same. You pull the pants down past his hips allowing his hard cock to spring free, you moan a little at the sight of how big he is and continue to pull his pants down, until they are resting on the floor at his ankles.

You kneel down in front of his cock and look up at him. He is staring at you with raw desire.

“I’m going to make you feel so good.” You moan and graze your hand down your own breast for a moment before focusing on the task at hand.

You lick your lips and slowly lick your way up and down his long shaft.

“Oh yeah.” He cries out to himself softly.

You continue to lick up and down, and come up to his head and swirl your tongue lightly around it, earning you another moan. You pull away just for a second, long enough for him to snap his head down at the loss of contact. You giggle a little before shoving him into your mouth, long and hard.

“Fuck yeah!” He cries out and you begin to bob your head up and down onto his hot cock, over and over. Tasting him already, you swirl your tongue around his tip again a few more times, before continuing to shove his cock down your throat.

Suddenly, you feel him pull your head back by the hair, you moan in pleasure. You look up at him and he is licking his lips, fucking you with his eyes. He pulls you up by your shoulders, until you are standing again facing him. He doesn’t say a word, but continues to fuck you with his eyes. 

He grabs your arms and shoots them up into the air, you comply with a smile, he rips your t-shirt off and his hands go to your back, where he caresses you softly a few times before unclasping your bra. You took your hands down and slowly dipped out of each strap, before letting it fall to the floor. He stands back a little to take you in, he smiles and begins to kiss your neck.

“So sexy.” He says softly into you as he ravages your neck with his mouth. He licks the side of your neck up and down before crashing his lips onto you, behind your ear, he sucks and licks harshly now, with more need, as his hands come up to caress both of your bare breasts, his hard cock pushing against your denim jeans, glistening a little. You reach over and pull at his shirt, trying to tug it up, while he has his hands on you, you moan frustrated. He chuckles noticing your futile efforts. He removes his hands from you for a moment before pulling the shirt off of himself in one quick motion. You bite your lip and smile in appreciation as you notice his large frame in all its glory. Those fucking arms. You thought to yourself, even more turned on than before.  

He strides back into you, pushing your ass into the table behind you. He crashes his lips back onto yours and sucks and swirls on them with urgency.

“Let’s get these off.” He says, breaking the kiss, to look down at your pants. His hands easily unbutton them, you feel the zipper descend, and feel his rough hands yank and pull your pants down, as he leans down with the fabric to set you free. You help him and step out of your jeans leaving you only in your panties. He stands back up and stares at your pussy through the fabric, you have already soaked through them.

“Damn.” He mutters staring at your pussy in admiration. He slowly reaches his hand out to touch you, he slightly slides his fingers up and down your folds through the fabric, making you cry out and arch your hips.

“Yeah, baby!” You cry, as he makes his way up to encircle your clit with his fingers. His fingers are already wet from your juices and he growls a little, as he slowly moves the fabric aside and teases your folds again. You arch into him over and over, with your head back and eyes closed, trying to feel every moment purely.

He slowly slides one of his fingers into you and you arch hard into it.

“Fuck yeah!” You scream and he shoves another one in, slowly pumping into you with his hand. You cry out again, this time snapping your head back to face him, you want to feel him, you pull his shoulders closer and start to devour his mouth again, harshly kissing into him, as he pumps into you.

You look at him with passion, breaking the kiss.

“I want you. I want all of you.” You say breathlessly, staring at him with pleading eyes.

He smirks a little and nods in agreement. He removes his hand and shoves your panties down to the ground, you kick them off alongside your pants. He pushes you back into the table and suddenly lifts you up by your ass and slams you onto the table.

He grabs your ass with both hands, on either side of you. You love feeling his rough touch on your skin. You cry out his name into his neck, wrapping him around you again.

“Daryl. I’m ready for you, please! I want you inside me!” You command.

He takes his rough hands off your ass and grabs your legs, wrapping them around his waist. He kisses you passionately once more before looking down to align his cock with your awaiting pussy. He slowly pushes himself into you and you moan in pleasure, he was so fucking big inside your tight pussy.

“Oh My God! Yes!” You scream in pleasure, as he pumps into you again a few more times, painstakingly slow.

“Oh Daryl. Yes. Harder!” You scream and he begins to pump into you faster and harder. You arch into him with your hips, finding his rhythm, until you are both slamming against each other. He thrusts into you long and hard and with each thrust he hits your clit.

“Fuck yeah!” He cries out and grabs your ass harder, trying to pull you as close into him as possible. You slam against each other over and over, long and hard, and you can hear the table legs slide and groan underneath you two, as it tries uphold you.

“Harder baby, yeah!” You moan as he begins to fuck you as hard as you have ever been fucked, he thrusts into you longer and faster, slamming into your clit over and over, faster and faster.

Suddenly you can feel yourself nearly there.

“Right there baby, faster! I’m going to cum!” You cry out and he thrusts into you faster and shorter, hitting the same spot you had told him felt so good. Faster and faster he slams into you, until you cry out in pleasure.

“Fuck! I’m cumming! Fuck yes!!” You scream as you slam your hips back into his over and over, cumming all over his cock.

You feel him slamming into you hard and fast as you continue to cum around him. A few more long thrusts inside of you and you feel him explode inside you.

“Fuck yes!!” He cries out, throwing his head back as he cums inside you. He thrusts into you a few more times, earning him a moan of pleasure from your mouth, before pulling himself out of you and leaning against your neck, exhausted.

You are both covered in sweat and breathing heavily as you hold each other up. He wraps his arms around you, while trying to regain his breath. You do the same, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders, listening to your heart pounding in your ears.

“Damn.” He mutters into you and you smile.

Once your breathing returns to normal you pull yourself up and look into his satisfied eyes. You kiss his forehead lightly and look into him again.

“Thank you.” You say, not realizing how long it had been since you had been pleasured, and even then nothing compared to this.

He scoffs a little and leans up to kiss your neck.

“Thank me?” He says jokingly.

“Shit girl, thank you!” He says smiling a full smile, the first one you had seen, it was the most beautiful thing in the world.

He stands back up and looks at his sweat suit on the floor with disgust, he knew he had to put it back on, but it was the last fucking thing he wanted to wear.

You look at him and anger returns to your being. You hated how this amazing man was being treated.

You stand up and reluctantly begin getting dressed yourself as Daryl disappointingly returned to his attire.

When you were fully dressed you walk over to him and put your hand on his chest, looking up into his eyes.

“I will get you your shit back.” You say matter-of-factly and continue, “And I will find a way to get you out of that fucking cell.”

“You can bet on it.” You finish before taking his lips longingly back into yours for as long as you could before you knew you’d have to lock him away again. It was going to be dawn soon, but you would savor him for as long as you could for now…