hip holster

No Sleep Till Brooklyn, Part 1

Heartmate Series: Steve Rogers x Reader

Characters: Steve Rogers, Deadpool, Falcon

Warnings: language, hinted sexual/physical abuse, violence - Deadpool’s in it guys, it ain’t PG. 

A/N: This is my take on the soulmate trope. It’s not necessarily an AU, because technically heartmate is canon in the Marvel world - at least with Wade’s comics. This part is an introduction to the characters!

Summary: You’re a mutant turned mercenary, working with the best merc around - Wade Fucking Wilson aka Deadpool. You are also someone who doesn’t believe in the whole heartmate crap. How could two people solely be made for each other? Steve Rogers is Captain America,  Avenger extraordinaire. Call him old fashion, but he believed in heartmates and knew he had one out there. The two of you cross paths one day and things get set in motion. Can Steve get passed the jaded wall you built or would things just crash and burn? And will Wade Wilson finally learn to put the seat down after taking a piss? Who knows.

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A/N: This is my first fic!!! I am really proud of it, I hope you enjoy. If you do please let me know what you thought, constructive criticism is always good! Enjoy!

Warning: stabbing, one cuss word, blood, death


Originally posted by oreo-wonderbatch

Originally posted by wintersoulja

Bee sting.

That is what it felt like when the knife entered your stomach. You had always thought it would be painless because of the shock and adrenaline. But no.. lucky you.

As the hydra agent removed the knife you felt the wound get warm. But the warmth continues to rise in intensity until it burns. It burns and stings and you can feel every bit of it. Putting pressure on it with your hands does not help the pain, but it’s necessary. Your knees give out and you use the wall behind you to slide to the floor.

The hydra agent pulls his gun out of his hip holster pointing it directly at your head. “You could join us you know. Help us take back the Winter Soldier… What do you say?”  “Fuck you.” You replied spitting at the mans feet. “To bad, would have been nice to have worked with such a pretty face.” He then replaces his gun on his hip “hope he is worth the suffering” he spits menacingly then walks away.

You look down at your hands and see the blood still pouring out as if the pressure is doing nothing. You know you are losing too much blood too fast. It is pooling around your legs. At least the wound is cooling.

“My sections clear, Y/n do you want my help?” You hear Bucky say through your earpiece. “Y/n?” He says again. “I need help.” You say between shaky breaths as the panic of dying sets in. “Y/N!! I’m on my way sugar stay right there!”

Hearing his pet name for you puts a smile on your face. When you went against Tony and sided with Steve to save Bucky you never knew that feelings would blossom from it. You hadn’t even thought about anyone romantically since your boyfriend, Pietro, died 2 years ago. You and Bucky had been on a few dates, but you could never bring the relationship further because you were afraid. Afraid of what happened before to happen again. You couldn’t deal with that pain again.

“Y/N!” Bucky says as he round the corner. He sees the blood running to the floor, encasing you in a pool of blood that runs all the way down to your feet. Just seeing him sends the panic away, maybe having someone with you calmed you down. “Shit Y/n I’m going to get you back to the Jet. This is probably going to hurt.” Bucky says softly before picking you up.

But it didn’t. You couldn’t feel anything other than the cold of your wound and a want to sleep. “Bucky,” you say as your vision is slowly going darker, “I’m sorry.” “Stay awake alright? What do you have to be sorry for sugar?” He says as you see his eye well up with tears. “Not being ready. You’re amazing, it was all my fault.” “You did nothing wrong, I’ll wait for you as long as you need, you just need to stay awake.” You take your last bit of energy and reach up to touch his face. He was so handsome, you were so glad to have met him. Then it all goes dark.

You wake up and have to blink a few times to soften the blow of the bright light.



Who You Are

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 1.2K

Warning(s): swearing

Summary: You are on a mission of your own when you get caught by a certain superhero.

You take in a deep breath before taking a step out of the bright yellow taxi and shutting the door. You look straight up, scanning the wide, glass covered, thirty-floor building looking for anything out of the ordinary. You then nervously fix your blouse and straighten out your skirt before heading towards the main doors of the building. You understood why they picked you for this mission, but you were just the healer. You didn’t put your life at risk like this. Like the others….

“Y/N once you get through the doors there will be a security checkpoint. You are going to need to use the I.D. badge that I gave you and swipe it at the scanner. It should hopefully work and get you in,” says one of your teammates, Ida, through the intercom placed in your ear.

“Hopefully?” you hiss quietly, “You mean to tell me this might not work?”

“I am 99% sure that this will work. I mean, come on. It’s me we are talking about,” she replies rather smug.

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anonymous asked:

prince cassian & smuggler jyn (like han and leia) pls?

Boy oh boy did I do a thing…instead of a drabble this turned into a fic just shy of 3000 words (I also kinda probably tweaked this from what the prompter probably intended but….eh. It’s fine.) (EDIT: NSFW)

Title: my darling, i’ll tuck your name under my tongue

Summary: It’s beneath his station, what he was doing. Cassian couldn’t bring himself to care.

Read it here on Ao3

Drabble (in theory) Prompts for Rebelcaptain are still (tentatively) open but there is a line!

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Let Me In (2/?)

Summary: You are a new addition to the Avengers, and have only ever seen your teammates with their walls up. However, one by one they slowly start to let you in, and you finally see them as human.

A/N: I feel like this series will just get better and better. I’m starting to hammer out what I want the tone to be, and this was just a blast to write. I kind of want to talk about this part so I’ll put a longer author’s note after the tags for anyone who wants to read my thoughts about this part. Enjoy! And a giant thank you to everyone who read Tony’s part and liked, reblogged, commented, sent me an ask, etc. I was so motivated during this part and I know that that feeling will just get bigger and bigger!! :)

Warnings: language (some stronger swears here friends), mild (non-graphic) violence

Words: 1900 (yeah buddy)

Tony Stark (Part 1)

Natasha Romanoff

Originally posted by lmwechirrut


Gunshots rang in your ears, and you could physically feel the electricity crackling in the air from Thor’s hammer.

“Get down! Clint, is the quinjet on the ground?”

Everything felt underwater, and you found you couldn’t really move that well. Battlefields were supposed to be mad, but this was something else entirely.

“Look out! Tony, take out that sniper now!”

You heard an explosion come from somewhere nearby. Another bomb went off significantly closer this time. Someone yelled and then the world faded to black.

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okay so i picture ryan outside of the crew as a naturally fidgety guy. it’s never a ridiculous amount of movement, but it’s a jogging of a leg when he’s leaning against something, tapping his feet/playing with his shoes when he’s seated, hands always in pockets and at the back of his neck and running through his hair and rubbing at his mouth and scratching at his ear.

when he’s the vagabond, he has to hide who he is. everything is changed, from voice to posture. namely, every significant mannerism, everything that identifies him as ryan, disappears. he moves little outside of necessity, stands tall and intimidating and still.

but he just can’t seem to rein in his hands.

he tries, certainly, exercises a significantly increased level of control over his habits. vagabond is a different headspace, after all, the reservation and lack of identity drilled into himself. the vagabond doesn’t need to run a hand through his hair when he’s nervous, as it’s pulled back in a ponytail or tied up in a bun. the vagabond wears a mask, couldn’t rub at his mouth if he tried. the vagabond recognizes that he blushes from the neck up, and that touching the area in his habitual manner just brings attention to whatever moment of weakness his hand is trying to conceal.

but his fingers are itchy, his fingers don’t rest. they drum against his hip, against the holster of his pistol, against the hilt of his knife. they snatch up pens and throwing knives and twirl, roll them across scarred and skinned knuckles almost too fast to be seen. they are the only thing about the vagabond that are not controlled, not a well-oiled part of the machine.

maybe that’s why they are so very good at the artistry of torture.

Teach Me

Daryl Dixon x Reader | 18+ | Smut Warning | NSFW

Summary: The reader almost gets bit on a run and Daryl is furious with her. They get back to the prison and she asks him to teach her a thing or two about self-defense against walkers and people. Sweaty training ends in rough smut, Daryl style. ;)

Warnings: Smut


You hear the gates of the prison opening, one by one, as you sit in the car with Rick and Michonne, waiting to leave the prison and go to a town nearby to gather supplies. You wipe your hands up and down your jeans a few times and take a few deep breathes, trying to calm your nerves. This was the first run you had gone on with Rick’s group and you were nervous as hell, but you wanted to prove your worth to the group.

Rick and Daryl had rescued you from a herd of walkers a few weeks, your group had been overrun by a sudden herd and you had lost everyone, you thought you were also gone until you saw Rick and Daryl run up to you, with four walkers nearly on top of you, as they chomped at you, trying to grab your flesh. The two men easily pulled the walkers off you and smashed their heads in, using their boots and couple of iron rods in their hands. They had been in the area looking for supplies at the time they heard you scream. You had never been so glad to see other people in your life.

After that they offered you a place to stay at the prison, Rick asked the three questions and you seemed to pass. The past few weeks you had been lucky enough to have a roof over your head, a safe place to sleep, and people who actually seemed to be decent human beings. It was like an out-of-body experience for this world, you were so happy to have found them. And then there was Daryl, one of the men who had saved you. Daryl was something so different, you didn’t even know how to describe him. Shy but confident, tough but sensitive, kind but harsh, he was the kind of man it would take a lifetime to figure out and you certainly would have no problem with that.

You couldn’t help but notice this confident, yet nervous, man, every time he was near you. He didn’t say much, but he always seemed to have twenty things on his mind. You wondered what it would be like to hear all those thoughts that never escaped his mouth. This run was important to you, showing the group you could handle yourself. But Daryl? Daryl was more important, in a world like this, there is no time to sit back and ponder.You wanted to be with him any chance you got.

Your head snaps back to reality as you hear Daryl’s motorcycle roar to life in front of the truck you rode in. You see Daryl look back at Rick and nod as he drove forward out of the gates, one by one. Rick followed him out and you look back, seeing Carl and Sasha quickly closing each gate behind your entourage. You bite your lip a little feeling the rush of butterflies again in your stomach. You gripped the knife in your hand tightly, almost drawing blood, you wince and put the knife back in the holster on your side, continuing to play with your hands for the drive.

You sat in the backseat of the four-door pickup truck and watch as Rick and Michonne stare straight ahead, not saying much, focusing on the mission at hand. After about fifteen minutes or so you see Rick look up into the rearview mirror, looking at you as he began to speak.

“Should be there in a few minutes, everyone be ready.”

He stared at you with hard, yet compassionate eyes, and then turned to nod at Michonne, who nodded willfully back. You all go back to staring at the road in silence. You see Daryl’s strong muscular body ahead of you, in his vest and black denim pants, carrying his crossbow slung across his broad back, as he gripping his motorcycle handles tightly. You see his body sway to the right as he turns onto another road, Rick followed his path and followed him as Daryl turned on to another tar road, marked Roseville Ave. Your body leans to the right sharply as both the bike and truck turn at record speeds, Michonne’s body remains nearly straight up as her strong right arm grips the side of the open window harshly, holding herself in place against gravity.

When meeting Rick’s group at the prison for the first time you were surprised at how many of them were skilled fighters. You had taken on walkers a few times before, getting lucky with things like using shelves to take them down before stomping on them, making sure they were dead. Another time you were able to sneak around behind one and stab it at the base of the neck. But, you had never seen such a group more ready for this world than theirs, it made you wish you were a better fighter than you were. But you figured you had survived just as long as them and you wanted to show them you were not afraid of this world either, even if you were. 

You watch as you see a sign, “Now entering Roseville. Population: 500.” On the horizon you can make out a small downtown street, your stomach begins to flip and you shake a little, you try and shake it off as Daryl’s bike and Rick’s truck slowly enter the town, parking just before the small town street appeared.  Daryl quickly killed his bike, stepping on his kickstand and pushing it to the ground before slinging his right leg over, swinging his body around, and walking towards the Rick’s truck. Rick parked behind Daryl and cut his engine, following suit. He looked at Michonne and then looked at you, mainly focusing on you.

“You see anything or hear anything you come get me or Daryl, I do not want this going badly. Let’s stick together.” He said with a serious nod to me and then up to Michonne.

You hold your breath and nod, trying to be brave and compose yourself. Michonne stared back at him with hardened eyes and nodded seriously before stepping out of the truck and onto the street. Rick followed, slamming his feet on the asphalt below and turning to square his hips toward Daryl who is walking toward the truck with squinted eyes as the Georgia sun beat down on his body.

You sigh a little to yourself, “Here goes nothing,” and push your door open, and slowly dropping one nervous leg down at a time. Your feet steady themselves on the ground below you and you begin to pick on up after the other, following Rick and Michonne to meet Daryl on the road.

Rick puts his hands on his hips, near his holster where his gun sits securely. Michonne follows Rick’s stance and puts her hands on her hips, looking at Daryl, with her sword securely on her back. Daryl nods to them both, adjusting his crossbow a little, due to the shift in weight from getting off the bike. Daryl the looks back at you with hard eyes. You weren’t sure why. You take another deep breath and put your left hand on the holster on your hip that carries your knife. You look at the weapons everyone else had and wondered if you had made the right decision. Too late now. You thought to yourself, feeling your heartbeat begin to pick up and you shift your weight so that your feet are shoulder width apart, trying to steady your body and get ready for anything.

Rick looks to Daryl, then Michonne, then back to you, shifting his body a little to view you.

“We stay in tight formation, no one leaves anyone else’s sight, let’s split up into groups to cover more ground. Michonne, you’re with me, we will hit the pharmacy and see if we can find any medicine or baby supplies for Judith. Y/N, you’re with Daryl, you two hit the country store over there and see what food and other supplies you can find.” Rick spoke with authority as he pointed to the small, almost western looking set up of the downtown street ahead of you, you wouldn’t be surprised if a tumbleweed came rolling through any minute.

You stare up and over at Daryl who is looking at you with intense eyes, you felt your body react to his stare, as you felt a surge of electricity run through it. Truth be told? Part of the reason you had decided to go on this mission was because of the man staring you down. Ever since him and Rick had saved you and brought you to their home you had found you could not stop thinking about him, so mysterious, and so gorgeous in all the right ways. You had always loved the rugged guys and this man was something even you could never dream up. Your heart races for a different reason as you stare into him for a moment before shaking the thoughts and focusing on the life or death situation. Rick walked to the back of the truck and pulled the back door of the truck open, grabbing four backpacks that he had stored on the seat beside yours, he shut the door and threw a bag to Daryl, Michonne, and then you. You caught the bag, barely, and huffed a little. You quickly straightened up and slung the bag around one of your shoulders, hoping no one noticed your moment of weakness.

“Alright. Let’s move!” Rick said and began to run down the street towards the pharmacy to the far right, past a hardware store, his hand on his holster. Michonne drew her sword and followed after him.

“Keep up.” Daryl said to you as he slung the crossbow easily off his shoulders and placed it in his hands at the ready, he turned his body and began to stride down the street to the country store all the way at the very other end of the small town street. You sigh a little in frustration, everyone else was so used to this, you grab your knife from your holster and run rapidly down the road, following Daryl and looking around for any signs of trouble.

Daryl runs down the road until he reaches the store front, heaving a little out of breath, you soon follow. You stand beside him and look into the old wooden storefront, there was a title etched out on the window pane, it was hard to read now, but it was there. It read, “Mom and Pop’s Country Store,” you smirk a little wondering when you would have ever in your life been happy to see one of those again. You had come from a town just like this, nearly non-existent and hell to live in as a teenager or for anyone who wanted to have a life. Ironically, coming from a town like this had saved you when the outbreak hit, you had warning from the bigger cities and outside world before it ever spread here, giving you enough time to devise a getaway plan.  

Daryl looks to you and sees your smirk, this seems to anger him and he stares into you.

“This ain’t no joke, Y/N.” He growled lowly, trying to hush his husky voice. “Stay behind me, ya hear?” He said, raising his tone just a little and leaning into you with an intimidating stance.

“Okay.” You say, nodding, and wiping the smirk from your face.

He nods and turns his view back to the country store, bringing his crossbow back up and uses it as a scope as he begins to step forward, slightly nodding back to you for you to follow.

You watch as his right foot hits the creaky hard wood floor of the deck ahead, as his body turns slowly from the right to the left as he scans the area, he hears nothing so he steps his other foot up and begins walking toward the door. He keeps his crossbow aimed straight ahead as he reaches one hand out toward the simple metal handle of the screen door and slams it open, again waiting for a moment. He nods back to you, as you hold your knife in your hand, trying not to shake like a leaf as you bring your feet up to the wooden deck and follow closely behind him, with your knife drawn in your right hand.

Daryl steps into the doorway and you hear another loud creak from the floor boards. He walks in and you see food on shelves and in old coolers on the left and an old checkout counter to your right, where a cash register and packs of cigarettes and lighters are stored, along with things like lotto tickets and newspapers stacked on them, a.k.a. things no longer useful in this world. You glance to the back of the small store and see a small array of clothing in the back of the store, down a few shallow steps away.

Daryl quickly steps over to the left side of the store, aiming his crossbow with intent as he looked down every row, high and low, for any trouble. He comes back in front of you, his back to you, still scanning the area.

He points his left hand and index finger over to the left side of the room, “Get as much food as you can carry.” He instructs and you nod, pointing your knife at the ready in front of you as you intently move your feet over to the couple of rows available.

You start with the back room first, looking through things like toothbrushes, soaps, and shampoos. You shove all of the hygiene products into your bag easily, as they are small camping supply versions, and move the next row. You see cans of refried beans, chili beans, soups, and vegetables, and swoop them into your pack, before seeing some peanuts, chips, and what looked to be pork rinds, you shrug, not for you but someone else might like them. You go about gathering as much as you can, ignoring obviously stale or rotten things like old bread, fruit, and milk, as you pass through the rows. You come to the end of the last row and shove charcoal, matches, and lighter fluid into your pack.

Your feet hit the wooden floor harshly as you heave a little under the now nearly full pack’s weight. You look down at the few racks of clothing and then look down at your sweat and dirt covered t-shirt, you grimace at your appearance and set the pack on the ground for a moment. You look over at Daryl who has set his crossbow on the counter and is filling his pack with lighters, cigarettes, jerky, candy, and whatever else he could find. He seemed pre-occupied in his task, you were sure he wouldn’t mind or notice if you just went and grabbed something new to wear.

Your feet hit the wooden steps that lead to the slightly lower floor softly, not wanting to let Daryl know you were disobeying him. You looked over to your right and saw a few spinning racks that showed pictures of the town and the state of Georgia, with sayings like, “We Missed You!” and “Welcome to Georgia!” on them, with images of local landscape, typical of any town who wanted a piece of the tourist profit to be made back in the real days. You also saw a few tacky Georgia screen print and embroidered t-shirts and sweat shirts on that side.

You decided to look at what else this store had to offer and turned your gaze to the left, where there were plain t-shirts, tanks tops and sweats hanging from hangers. You began to quietly browse through them, sliding the hangers over from one side to another as quietly as you could, looking up at Daryl who was busy scouring whatever he found underneath the checkout counter. You stop and notice a cute, simple blank tank top. You pick it up by the hanger and admire it. It was cute, practical, and it would hide dirt easily. You walk behind the rack of clothing and slowly set your knife down on the ground. You once again look over at Daryl, making sure he is still busy, as you reach your fingertips down to the hem of your dirty tank top and pull it over your head, throwing it to the floor. You feel the air hit your bare breasts a little and shiver, you pull the black tank top quietly from the hanger and quickly pull it over you, adjusting it onto you as fast as you can, so that Daryl does not see you. You pull it neatly over you and go to reach back down for your knife.

As you are about the reach down you suddenly hear jagged breathing from behind you. You spin your feet around, kicking your knife under the rack of clothes, and see a walker staggering toward you. You notice there is a small back office door open as you see a small woman with white straggly hair coming toward you, chopping her teeth. You gasp, stepping back, only to hit the bottom metal rail of the clothing rack and forcing you to fall down into it and onto the floor, clothes falling everywhere.

You grasp your hands around, trying to find the knife that had spun to the floor. Your hands roam wildly around you as your eyes remain fixed on the walked reaching their arms out at you and falling down onto your body. You heart races and your hands roam even more desperately around you, trying to find your weapon and salvation. Before you can cry or scream you suddenly see Daryl’s boot kick the walkers head to the left, forcing its weak, but determined, body off of yours. You look up and see him aim his crossbow and fire into the walker’s skull, shooting it dead.

Your body heaved with adrenaline as you watched the scene unfold. You look up at Daryl who keeps his crossbow and gaze intact on the dead walker for a minute longer before look down at you angrily.

“What the hell did I tell you, Y/N!??” He screams angrily.

You look up at him with wide eyes, still in shock by what just happened.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted-“ You started but he interrupted you.

“Can’t even listen to simple instructions.” He muttered to himself.

You felt hot tears coming to your face, you tried to push them down, but a few escaped. You looked down ashamed as a few tears slipped out.

You saw Daryl’s stance change as he angled his body to yours, leaning his hand down to you.

“Come on.” He said, his voice softer.

You take his hand, not looking at him, and allow him to pull you up off the floor with one easy stride. You turn away from him long enough to wipe the tears from your eyes and then focus on the floor, scanning it for your knife. You see that it had slide all the way under the card rack on the other side, you click your feet quickly and go to retrieve it. You bend down and grab it easily into your hand, turning around, this time very much ready to use it. You see it is little use as the walker is dead and your shocked body begins to return to normal. You dare to look up at Daryl and see him staring at you with angry, yet concerned eyes.

“Ya alright?” He asked and glanced over your body for any bites.

You look down at your body, inspecting yourself and finding nothing, luckily. You look up at him with apologetic eyes and nod slowly, “Yeah. I think so.”

He nods, his eyes relaxing a little at your words. He takes a breath and slings his crossbow over his back.

“Come on… We’ve got all we can from here.” He said, gesturing for you to walk back up the stairs first.

You nod and walk up the stairs, holstering your knife, and grabbing the pack you had filled. You put the backpack on using both straps and feel the heavy weight of the goods you had collected. You hear Daryl approach from behind you and feel him stop waiting for you to walk toward the front of the store. You walk to the front of the screen door and look behind you, watching as he quickly grabs his heavy pack and easily swings it onto his shoulders. You look at him and he nods his head up at the door, gesturing you to walk outside. You turn your gaze to your front and push the screen door quietly open, hearing the slight hum of the springs as you do.

You cautiously walk out of the store, looking to both sides as you do, and step forward, allowing Daryl to follow you back into the sunlight world. You look back at him and he looks down at you with what looks like relief. You step back out onto the tar road and walk back toward your vehicles, all the while he follows closely behind you, scanning the area.

You walk up the road and see Rick and Michonne standing in front of the truck, arms folded, shoulder to shoulder, waiting for you two, their eyes serious and stoic. You take a deep breath and await the lashing you would get when Daryl told them what you had done.

Rick looked at Daryl with hard, worried eyes, “What was that?” He asked referring to the noise he had heard.

Daryl looked over at you and saw your sheepish eyes staring at the ground.

“Nothin’. Just a dead son-of-a-bitch, I got ‘em.” He said easily.

You snap your head up at him in surprise, staring curiously.

He feels yours eyes on him, but continues to stare at Rick, trying to sell it.

Rick stares at him a little and then back at you, before lowering his gaze to the ground and nodding, seemingly believing Daryl’s words.

“Alright, let’s load this stuff up and get home.” Rick said, nodding to your and Daryl’s full backpacks.

“Good work.” He says looking you in the eye, you smile a little in response.

Daryl slung his backpack over his shoulder and handed it to Rick, before turning to you and reach out his hand for yours. You groan a little under the weight and shift your body to sling the pack onto Daryl’s hand, which easily holds the weight. He pulls it onto his shoulder and gestures at you and then at the truck. You smile a little and walk back over to the side of the truck you had emerged from to begin with.  He walks behind you and reached his arm around you to the handle of the back door, lifting it open and swinging it out for you. You step in and sit down, staring down at him, a little confused by his actions.

“Thanks.” You say softly and smile a little up at him through your lowered eyes.

He scoffed just a little and smiled back up at you for only a split second.

“Just glad you’re alright.” He said with a quiet tone before turning his head back over to Rick and Michonne, once he sees they are not watching you two, he glances quickly back over at you.

“Have a safe trip home.” He said softly.

You look at him nodding and smiling, “You too.”

He nods and shuts the door, walking over to the other side of the truck, opening the other back door and slamming the pack down on the seat. He stared at you for a minute again, without a sound, before Rick and Michonne walked over behind him, waiting to throw their packs in too. His hand left your pack on the seat and his eyes slowly withdrew from yours.

You felt that surge of electricity again, as you watched him walk away toward his bike. You gaze at him longingly for a moment, before snapping back to reality and turning your attention back at Rick and Michonne, who handed you each pack one by one, you heaved them inside and nodded, watching them both get back into the truck. You looked ahead and saw Daryl swing his leg back over his bike and use his left leg to lift the kick stand up, using his body to sway the bike to the right as he kicked the stand up. He jumped a little, kicking his left foot down on the starter and you hear it roar to life. Your whole body vibrates a little in response to the sound of it and you close your eyes and shake your head, trying to concentrate on reality.

You remained silent throughout the drive home, thinking about the day and what had happened. You furrow your brow nervously, as you think how close to death you really were. If it wasn’t for Daryl… Your heart starts to race a little at the thought that you almost died today. What were you thinking coming out here like this? You thought, chastising yourself. Before you knew it you were rolling up to the prison gates behind Daryl’s bike. You watched Sasha and Tyreese pull the gates open, one by one, allowing Daryl’s bike, followed by Rick’s truck back into the prison.

Rick followed Daryl’s bike up the gravel road a ways until you both reached the parking area of the prison camp. Daryl slams his kickstand back down and swings his right leg over, easily slamming it down next to his other foot. He watched and waited as Rick pulled the truck over behind him. Once Rick put the truck in park, Daryl walked over to the back of the truck, across from you, and grabbed two of the heavy packs in his arms.

“I got yours, Y/N.” He said stoically and swung both bags easily over each shoulder.

You smile a little to yourself and nod, “Thanks.” You say softly, looking up at him with shy eyes.

He nodded, without any emotion in his face and turned to Rick who had gotten out of the truck and walked over to Daryl’s side.

“I’m gonna take these up to the cellblock.” He said.

Rick nodded, “Michonne and I will get the rest.”

Michonne swung her body easily out of the truck, holding on to the open window frame while doing so. You hear her feet hit the gravel as they come slamming down, she walks over to Rick and Rick hands her a pack, before picking up his own. You open your door and slowly drop one leg at a time, until they softly hit the ground. You look down at your feet as you walk, again thinking of how embarrassing and scary today had been for you. You rarely failed at anything, this world had taught you, there were still many things to learn. You look up and see Rick and Michonne walking up to the cellblock, clicking their heels in unison as they walked up the road to the prison. You look at them confused, wondering where Daryl was. Suddenly, you hear a throat clear and you look over to the front of the truck, seeing Daryl standing there holding both packs in each arm, his muscles flexing at you.

“Come on.” He said and nodded toward the road.

Your stomach did flips as you realize he was waiting for you. You smile smally and nod, walking over to him. Once you were face to face with him he turned his heels and began to walk up the road, following Rick and Michonne’s path. He stared ahead stoically, not saying anything as you two walked up the gravel. Once you made it inside the prison you both walked to the cell block, Daryl walked ahead of you for a moment and slammed the two packs on a nearby table that was set up for supplies. He set them next to Rick and Michonne’s packs. Rick stood at the table and nodded a thank you to Daryl, before turning and digging in to separate the supplies.

“I’ll be back.” Daryl said to Rick. Rick nodded, lost in his own duties.

Daryl turned around and looked at you, nodding his head back, a gesture to you to follow him.

Your body tingled in excitement and your stomach began to flip at an immense rate, you could feel your heart beating throughout your body. He turned around and began walking towards the back of the cellblock, where everyone’s individual cells were. You stared at him, from behind, as he led you to his cell, which was all the way in the back of the block. He pulled the curtain to his cell open and nudged his head forward, ushering you to step inside first. Your feet bravely complied as you forced them into the room.

You looked around and saw a few clothes scattered around, along with some food wrappers that had been thrown on the floor. You looked back at Daryl who had also entered and secured the blanket “door” onto the wall with little tacks he had found in one of the offices in the prison. He tacked the blanket down the wall, giving you as much privacy as was allowed in this world. You watched as his fingers secured the last tack, on the bottom, staring down at his hunched over, muscular form. Your eyes roamed over his body, looking him up and down, with his back to you. You smile a little, staring at his arms, broad shoulders, and down his back to his amazing ass.

You watch as his body shoots up and stands, he turns back around and stares into this time his eyes gave way to something that looked like anger. He reached both of his hands over to the strap of his crossbow as he heaved it over his body and brought the heavy weapon up and over him, he walked to the corner of the room and carefully set it down, turning his attention back to you.

You smile, feeling your face heat up at his glare, you slightly move your right foot back and forth across the floor, looking down at it awkwardly. You peer up at him, your head still down, he stares at you from across the room.

“I really don’t know how to thank you enough, Daryl-“ You start, wanting to show him your gratitude, but were cut off.

“Don’t know why you were even out there.” He said shortly, causing you to look at him sideways.

“I know, I just wanted-“ You started again, your eyes growing sad.

“Wanted to what? Get yourself killed?!” He raised his voice to you, causing you to back up a little in fear. He throws his arm out in emphasis as he spoke to you.

“Jesus Y/N! You think you can just go off and do whatever you want, whenever you want… And then go and get yourself nearly killed!” He angrily paces around the room a few times, lost in his own thoughts.

Daryl had liked you from the moment he pulled those walkers off you, the first time you met. He liked how shy and nice you were, even after the world going to shit. He didn’t know anyone who could smile as brightly as you could, amidst the hell that was on earth these days. He hid his feelings well, only stealing glances when he knew you weren’t looking. He loved how easily you got along with others, making it seem damn near effortless. He was furious with Rick for allowing you to go on that run to begin with, he should have trusted his gut and not allowed you to go. He paced around, his adrenaline pumping, as he thought about what could have happened, if he had been just a second too late. He stopped pacing and turned to you, before speaking.

“You shouldn’t have been out there!” He shouted again.

You stared back at him, nodding sadly, you knew he was right.

“I know.” You say in a small, hushed voice, slumping your body down onto the bed, while Daryl paced around, above you.

He looked at you curious about your response, before turning back to his pacing motion.

“I just… Shouldn’t have been there… Should have known better.” He trails off, lost in his own thoughts again.

You sit on the bed twiddling your thumbs, watching him as he chastises himself and you, pacing the world.

“You could teach me.” You say softly, looking up at him again.

“What?” He asked, still pacing.

“Teach me how to fight.” You say and peering into his eyes.

His body stops and he looks back at you, contemplating it. He chews on his lip a little and his toe taps as he thinks, finally he nods, staring into you.

“Alright.” He nods his head up to you, and then towards the door, “Let’s go.”

He uses his big hands to untack the door carefully and you stand up to follow him out of the cell and back outside. You follow Daryl down the road toward the edge of the property where there is a small shed and behind it a decent sized plot of green grass, perfect for training. Off in the distance you can hear Walkers growling and running their fingers up and down the chain link, making you shudder a little.

Daryl leads you around to the back of the shed, where there is just a small bench set up next to a modest fire pit. This is where Daryl spent most of his time when he wanted to be away from the others. He walks halfway across the field before turning to you, walking backwards and sticking his arms out in the air. He motions both hands to you, gesturing at you to come his way.

You stomp your boots down on the ground, squinting your eyes, trying to turn on your determination button. You were not going to go down in this world as someone who didn’t at least try to fight back against the evil that was in it. Your chest heaves with adrenaline, under your new black tank top. Your legs move with focus underneath your denim blue jeans. You pull your hair back into a tight ponytail, still walking towards the man who had saved your life, twice now. You wanted to make him proud. You walk up to him and face him, squaring your hips and spreading your legs shoulder width apart. You place your hands on your hips, awaiting instructions.

Daryl looked you up and down, getting a little turned on by your determination. So damn cute. He thought to himself, his body shifting a little, as he felt what you did to him. He blinked, trying to shake the dirty thoughts away, he wanted to teach you how to survive, both the dead and the living. He straightened his body out again and took a deep breath, focusing on the task at hand. He put his hands up palms facing flat and up, he flexed his muscle as he squatted his body down a little.

“Alright. Let me see what you can do. Punch my hands, as hard as you can.” Daryl said, still bracing.

You look at him with a little shock and concern in your eye, making him chuckle a little.

You felt butterflies flutter through your stomach seeing his smile, his smile was the cutest thing you had ever seen.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be alright.” He said to you, smirking.

You roll your eyes a little, you could be tough, you would show him. You drop your left heel back and pivot your right foot forward, putting up your fists. Thumbs inside or out? You quickly ask yourself mentally, trying to remember what your dad had told you as a child. Out. I think it’s out. You nod to yourself and tighten your fists, clasping your thumb out grasping your other fingers. You motion your weight back and forth on your feet, rocking to a rhythm only you could hear as you amp yourself up.

You squint one more time, focusing on Daryl’s right upright palm you push your weight forward on your right foot and jut your arm out, twisting it to straighten your fist as you slam it into his palm, harshly. You smile a little as you twist and pivot your other arm out, turning your waist, and slam your left arm into his left palm. You do this a few times, crossing back and forth between palms, making contact every time.

Your wrists were tiny and the impact was minimal, but you had perfect form Daryl thought as he watched you punch into him, he smiled, taking you in in all your fire and glory. He watched as your determined eyes focused on his hands, he watched your body move in a motion that he fucking loved, your hips moving side to side in pure militant action. He saw you stand back after a minute, trying to catch your breath, his eyes wander down your body and he watches your chest heave in the sun, seeing a couple of droplets of sweat run down your neck and drop into your shirt. He bit his lip a little before shaking it off and standing up, looking back at you with an impressed gaze.

“Someone must have taught ya to fight… before all this.” He waved his arm out into the air, gesturing to the scenery around you.

You scoff a little, rolling your eyes. “The one good thing my dad ever taught me… hell the only thing.”

You said with sarcasm rounding out the sentence. Your father had never been around long enough to teach anything much, but around the time you turned 16 there was a random day where he had wanted to see you and you spent the entire day together, went to a movie, out to eat, shopping, and towards the end of the day you sat at a park, where he became determined to teach you how to defend yourself. He was a cop, so naturally he knew the basic self-defense training, he taught you the basic punches and techniques to get away, things like kicking in the kneecap, palm to the nose, and other course with guys, the groin was always a safe bet when thinking of getting to safety. These tips helped you a lot along the way after the world ended, on both the living and the dead. Come to think of it, it may have saved your life in this end time world. You shift your body a little, lost in your thoughts. Family is never an easy thing, but you never expect to be without it. You never think the last time will be the last time. In this damn world? It always could be, the air stung with inevitability.

Daryl clears his throat and you snap your eyes back to his, where he is staring at you, intently.

“Sorry.” He says shortly, but leans his body forward towards yours, as he speaks, putting his hands in his pockets.

You smile a little back at his response. He was so damn cute and he didn’t even know it. You watch as his weight shifts back and forth between his heels and his toes, his hands tugged into his black jeans. He peers up at you, sideways, trying to read your mind. You shrug a little, looking at the ground and then back up to him.

“Not your fault. We all lost something.” You say, looking sideways at nothing, nodding your head, reminding yourself that things could be worse. You snap your eyes back to him and shift your feet deeper into the grass.

“What now?” You ask, raising your palms to him and squatting down, making a stance and waiting for instruction.

He smirked a little and nodded his head sideways before quickly looking back at you. He squats back down and puts his palms up to match yours, nodding.

“Let’s see whatcha got!” He smiles and begins moving his feet, making his body cross the ground.

You squint in concentration and follow his lead, trying to match your feet’s rhythm to his. You slap your hand against his, while crisscrossing your feet, hitting him a little, he pushes his hand into yours and stares into you. You move and twist your hips and feet over across the lawn, slapping his right and left hands here and there when you are able, each time he leans his hand into yours and nods his head in encouragement. You break out into a smile as you begin to get the hang of it, as you both move swiftly form side to side in the grassy area.

You giggle a little to yourself as you begin to hit his hand each time, matching the rhythm of his feet perfectly towards the end. You are so caught up in your rhythm you forget that you need to breathe, you sprint back and forth until your legs feel like they or on fire and you fall over into the grass, turning and laying on your back, your body heaving.

Daryl lays beside you with a big hump, also on his back, his legs up and swaying, as his face contours, catching his breathe. He sits and breathes in and out deeply for a second before turning toward you and smiling. You, also heaving, looks over at him and smile blissfully and grateful for the adrenaline rush.

“So what now? Mr. Dixon?” You ask innocently as you pull your body to your knees and lean over him.

“What else are you gonna teach me?” You stared into him, awaiting instruction, feeling your breathing come back to normal, but your heart still raced in close proximity to the man you had wanted since you had met him.

He smirked a little, his breathing coming back down, he tossed his hair, nudging his head up, and stared into you.

“I got a few ideas.” He said, still smirking.

Suddenly he moves his body up and over yours, forcing you to lay on your back. You peer at him in shock and watch as he gentle presses his right hand down on your sternum, holding you to the ground.

“What if I were a walker? What would you do?” He asked, as you struggle a little under his hand.

Your eyes close, trying to focus, this was another test. You think back to the training you had been giving and move your left arm up swiftly, pushing it hard against Daryl’s arm restraining you, forcing his grip off you. You roll to your right a few times and force your body to your feet, fists raised.

Daryl rolls over and crawls his way slowly to his feet, swinging his arms, and staring at you, a small smile never leaving his lips.

“Good.” He says as enthusiastically as Daryl Dixon can and he nods his head up at you.

“Now… Come at me.” He raises his arms and juts his fingers up and down, gesturing to you.

You dig your heels into the ground and nod your head, determined to do good. You sprint forward and slam your body into his, using both hands to push him to the ground. You both fall and you land hard on top of him, your hands bracing against his chest. You hear the thud, but neither of you feel the fall thanks to the pure adrenaline running through both your veins. You feel his hands quickly come up to your hips and harshly pull them as he pivots his body around, turning you onto your back and pushing you hard into the ground. You cry out in pleasure, feeling his hands force your body into the ground with so much pressure.

He looks at you and curiously cocks his head to the side, smirking. Had he heard you cry out for him? He stares down at you and you look back at him licking your lips a little as you feel his body straddling yours. You look down at his hips on yours and then stare up into his eyes with longing. He nods and swoops down, crashing his lips onto yours.

You feel his tongue as it grazes harshly across your bottom lip and then across your top, you cry out again and arch your body up into him, opening your mouth to him. You close your eyes and he watches you cry out. He growls and you feel it all through his body as he presses against you, you feel his hips press hard into yours moan again. He plunges his tongue into your awaiting mouth and swirls his tongue harshly around your mouth, capturing your tongue and making love to it. You feel his hand come up and cup the side of your face, pushing you into him harder. You swirl your tongue around his faster in response to his urgency.

He groans a little and presses his hold body onto you even harder, thrusting his hips up into your core, watching for your reaction. You smile a little, your eyes still closed, stopping your tongue for a moment. He smirked and did it again a few more times, watching you come undone a little. Your hair harshly rubs into the grass as you feel his hips grind you into the ground a few times. His tongue swirls around yours a few more times as both of his hands cup your face and pull you into him. He quickly exists your mouth putting a little kiss onto the tip of your nose. He leans up and peers down at you with a mischievous smile.

“What if I were a walker?…” He shifts his weight, pushing his groin into yours holding into you. “…What would you do?” He asked, smirking at you.

You moan a little to yourself, loving the feeling of him pressing himself into you and then look up at him, smiling a devilish smile. In one quick motion you lean your knee up and gently graze his thighs apart from inside them and swirl your body around, pushing him down onto the ground beneath you, your hands pushing his chest down as hard as you could. You breathe heavily as you feel the lust and adrenaline pump through your body. You grind your hips into his a little bit and watch as his eyes turn to you lowly looking like he had a bunch of naughty intentions. His hands grazed up your thighs and roamed to your hips, his right hand moved lower and grabbed the side of your ass harshly. You writhe your hips into him in response, straddling him as the sunset glow appeared on both your bodies.

You look down at him as you grind your hips into his, you feel his throbbing cock beneath his pants and sigh a little in response.

“What are you going to teach me now?” You ask lowly, riding him into the grass.

He smirks and grabs your ass harder, pushing you into him harsher as you grind into him.

“Baby? I got all kinds of things to teach you.” He emphasized your name and you became even wetter.

Suddenly his right hand came back to your hip and both hands swirled you around, his body pushing you both over in another somersault, him landing back on top of you. He grabs your wrists and harshly pushed them both up above your head, holding you into the ground. He positions his legs so he is straddling you, his clothed cock pressing into your core. You writhe up into his hips, staring at him with longing.

“Daryl…” You breathe heavily, staring into him, reaching your lips up, trying to taste him again.

He smiles and plunges his tongue back into your mouth, harshly pushing past your teeth and making love to your awaiting tongue. You swirl around each other’s tongues for what felt like a blissful hour, lost in your passion, until you suddenly feel Daryl’s hand drop your wrists and graze down the outside of your tank top and coming to cup your breast a few times.

“Yes!” You cry out, shooting your head back and out of his mouth.

He kisses down your cheek to the side of your neck, running his tongue up and down it before crashing his lips onto your earlobe, sucking it slowly into his mouth. He moves his other hand up to your other breast and massages you from outside your shirt, making love to your ear. He breathes heavily into your ear and he kisses you, slowly detaching for a minute and whispering to you.

“I’ll teach you how to scream my name, darlin’.” He said in a raspy voice and began to kiss down your neck and sucking harshly on your collarbone for a moment, making you cry out to him again.

“I fucking love when you moan for me, girl.” He growls into your skin, causing vibrations throughout your body and a whimper from your mouth.

His tongue continued to work its way to the base of your neck, his lips reached the top of your tank top and they detached from your skin. You look down and see him staring at the fabric in frustration. He looks around the area, checking to see if any walkers or people are nearby, he sees nothing and looks back down at your clothing. You bite your lip in anticipation, as if you could read his mind. He stares up at you and sees your eyes glistening with amusement and happiness.

“Go ahead.” You say to him and nod down to him.

He smiles and growls, moving his hands quickly down to the hem of your tank top, using his fingers to lift it off you. You smile, lift your body up, and put your arms in the air. You giggle a little as he eagerly strips you of your shirt, revealing your aroused naked breasts. He groans at the sight of you and suddenly, his hands are pulling at the button to your jeans, he quickly unbuttons you and you feel his fingers slide down the zipper.

You feel yourself getting hotter and braver, you move your hands up his bare chest and tug and pull at the hems of his vest. He smiles and allows you to push the vest off each shoulder and down each arm, one at a time. He throws it to the side and moves his hands back down to your hips, concentrating so hard. He licks his lips and stares at his hands as they move to either hip and begin to try and pull the fabric off of you.

“Lift that beautiful ass of yours…”  He growled, his eyes never leaving your hips.

You smile and comply, lifting your ass slowly into the air. You moan to him as you feel him pull the fabric of your jeans and your panties down all at once. Once they reached your knees his hands slowly roamed back of your thighs, as you remained arched into the air. His hands roamed back up to either sides of your ass and smacked each side harshly, roughly grabbing both cheeks and your hip bones for a minute.

“Daryl!” You cry out his name, loving his rough touch on you. He smacks your ass a few more times with both hands in response.

He uses his hands to slowly, but roughly, push your hips back down to the ground. He holds his hands into you for a moment, staring down at you with desire.

“Why don’t you open those pretty legs of yours.” He said, as his hands moved over to rub around your lower stomach. You groan a little at the feel of his hands so close to where you wanted them. You lick your lips and look up at him as you spread your legs apart in front of him, revealing your wet, aching pussy to him.

“Damn Y/N.” He growls as he stares down at it, licking his lips. He rubs his fingers up and down his lips a few times as he stares, before he looks back up at you, locking into your eyes.

“Here’s what I’m gonna teach you…” He says as he lowers his body, scooting his knees down, until he has his face directly in front of your pussy, he moves both hands behind your ass cheeks and looks back up at you.

“You always cum for Daryl…” He growls and rushes his head down into your core, pushing his tongue into your pussy harshly.

“Fuck, Yes!” You cry out and move your hands down to his hair tugging him into you harder, loving the feel of his tongue inside you. You buck your hips up into his face and you feel his tongue dart in and out and swirl wildly around  you over and over. He licks his tongue up you and wiggles it a little hitting your clit, causing you to buck harshly into him and cry out his name. You push his head into you loving the pressure of him on your clit.

He groans out a little, loving when you take charge, and uses his right hand to smack and grab your ass harder, pulling you into this mouth more. He sucks and swirls around inside your over and over as you ride his face, fucking into him as hard as you could. You could feel the sweat starting to build on your skin and you could feel what the rhythmic motion of his tongue was doing with every lap. He moved his tongue up to the top of your pussy and harshly kissed the top of your clit a few times, wiggling his tongue inside you.

“Holy Fuck!” You cry out, closing your eyes as you scream out to him.

His tongue wiggles faster and he sucks on your clit harder, pushing his head into yours and moaning.

“Mmmm…” He moaned out causing vibration through you.

“Baby! I’m going to-“ You cry out writhing into him.

He growls into you again, sucking and swirling onto your clit hard and wiggling his big tongue around inside you faster and faster.

“Yes!!! Fuck!!” You cry out as you cum onto his face, pushing your hips up into his lips as hard as you could. He used his hands to hold you into him by your ass and continued to moan onto your clit, causing you to buck up into him a few more times, before holding yourself there and smiling in pure bliss.

You hold yourself into his face a few more second before dropping your hips. Daryl pulls his lips out of you and look up at you as you pant your high away. You stare down at him tussling his hair in appreciation. He smiles back at you and turns to his right to kiss your inner left thigh. You moan a little in response to his tongue again on your skin, you pull the thigh around to his neck, slightly pulling him back into you, causing him to look up at you as he tongues your thigh.

You stare down at him, needing to feel him all over you, you arch your hips a feel times, feeling yourself so wet just staring at him.

“Daryl… Teach me how to fuck you…” You trail off, lost in his body and your bliss.

He growls, looking more like an animal than ever before, he drops your leg and climbs up your body, he stops as he reaches your bare breasts and harshly slams his mouth down onto your left nipple, nibbling it just enough to make your cry out in a little bit of pain.

“Ah!” You cry out and your hands find his hair again. He sucks and swirls around your left breast a moment, harshly rubbing his scruff into your skin, causing you to cry out in pleasure. He moves his attention to your other breast and does the same, making love to your skin with his tongue. He pushes back up and climbs up you. He holds himself in a push-up stance above you and you groan a little staring up at his big, broad, bare chest. He looks you in the eye and then looks down at his pants, he stares back up at you with a smirk.

“Take ‘em off.” He commanded and you quickly ran your hands down from his hair, down his chest and to his pants.

Your fingers traced the button before slowly moving your hand down, you rubbed your hand down and up his jeans, moaning as you felt how hard he was. He growled and stared down at you as you palmed him.

“Fucking take them off.” He said lowly, fucking you with his eyes.

You comply and move your fingers back up to the button. They quickly pop it loose and slowly unzip his zipper. You use your hands to wiggle the fabric down his hips a little before slowly delving your right hand inside and carefully grabbing his cock in your hand, allowing it to exist its prison. Once his cock was out you use your hands to harshly push the jeans down and off his hips. You open your legs to him and use your feet to pull the fabric down and once they are by his ankles he kicks out of them.

You wrap your legs loosely around him, staring down at his throbbing, already glistening cock, and then back into his eyes. You watch as he pumps himself a few times, making his already huge cock grow even harder. You moan out and your hand moves to your pussy, where you place pressure onto yourself and writhe your hips up into your fingers.

“Here’s another lesson…” He trails off as he aligns his cock with your pussy, rubbing the tip up and down you a few times. “A good fuck goes a long way…” His southern drawl dripped lowly out of his mouth as he aligned his cock with your center and roughly pushes himself all the way into you.

“Daryl!” You cry out in shock and pleasure, feeling how fucking big he was inside you.

He bounced into you, hearing you call his name, and began to push into you harshly, but slow, putting pressure onto you with every hit. He wrapped your legs tighter around him as he began to slam his cock inside you over and over.

“Damn!” He cried out at the sensation of wrapping your legs tighter around him, as you rode his cock even better.

You groan and arch your hips up into his, trying to match his rhythm. He tighten your pussy around him as you hit up into him and he smacks your ass again.

“Fuck yeah, Y/N!” He cries out and moves his hands to harshly grind your ass into his hips.

Your body begins to bounce up and down the grass, harsher and harsher with each thrust, as Daryl fucks you into the ground. He smacks your ass harder and harder as he watches your body bounce up and down as it fucks his cock.

“You like that, Y/N?” He asks smacking your ass again, forcing your eyes to open and stare into him.

You nod, breathing heavily.

“I can’t hear you?!” He commands, smacking your ass again and shooting his cock into you even further than before, slamming into you, your hips bouncing back in reaction to how big he is, you whimper, still nodding.

“Yes! I fucking love it!” You cry out and he smacks your ass again, nodding and moving his hands to grasp your hips harshly and guiding his cock into your pussy at his own command. You arched your body up into his and allowed him to lead you to your destination. He swirled his hips into yours, always finding the right pressure with every hit, your head thrashed as you felt yourself closer and closer to your salvation.

“Right there, baby! Harder!” You cry out, holding your hips up into his, putting the best pressure onto yourself as you could.

“Cum for me, Y/N.” He said breathlessly, slowing down for a moment to fill you to the hilt a few times, causing you to groan and ache for him even more.

“Faster, baby!” You cry out and bring your hands to pull his shoulders and body into you. His hands begin to roughly push and pull your hips onto his faster and faster, as he pushed and bounced into you, with each hit. You felt the grass as it slid feverishly under your back as he fucked you like you had never been fucked before. He pressed his forehead onto yours and your sweat soaked bodies rode each other. You got even more turned on just hearing the rhythm of your breathing as you fucked each other. He moves his lips down to the side of your neck, crashing his lips back onto your skin as his cock continued to fuck you so good.

You slam your hips and clit up into him a few more times, loving the feel of his cock inside you, before you start to let go. He looks at you and see you cumming, he moves one of his hands down to put slow pressure onto your pussy, pushing hard down the side of you, making you buck up and hold into his hand.

“Fuck! Daryl!” You cry out, cumming even harder now and use your left hand to push his lips harder into your neck.

He holds his hand into you for another moment, allowing you to ride out your high, watching as your hips jump up into his hand and further onto his cock. He throbs inside you, loving how he makes you feel.

Your vision comes back to you and you move your hands to force Daryl’s head off your neck and back up to your eyes. You stare into him and sweetly take his lips back into yours, you swirl around his tongue gratefully, and moan into his mouth, pulling him back into you. You kiss him passionately for a few moments before pulling his mouth off yours and staring into him. You thrust your hips up onto his cock a few times, feeling his throbbing cock inside you.

“Have your way with me, baby.” You say bravely, just wanting to feel him fucking you again.

He growled and he began to slowly thrust into you, long and hard, loving the reaction he got when he fucked you like that. You groan and stare up at him, needing more. Once he had teased you enough, he picked up his pace, beginning to feel his arousal skyrocket. He begins to fuck you wildly as faster than ever before. He smacks your ass over and over, grinding you into him after each smack. You push your hips up into his, trying to help him reach salvation. You clench your pussy around his cock as you ride him and move your hands up to your breasts where you massage yourself, staring him down as your body bounces up and down as he fucks into you.

He sees you do this and smacks your ass again, “Fuck, Y/N! You like that, don’t you!?” He says, not needing an answer.

His cock begins to fuck into you at the perfect rhythm and you moan out in pleasure as your body bounces up and down his cock, you feel yourself building again and your cry out grinding into him harder than before.

“Fuck! Make me cum again, baby!” You cry out, feeling him slam his cock into you harshly and putting all the pressure onto your clit that he could. He did this a few more times, and you came again for him, harshly grabbing your nipples and riding his cock harshly up and down.

“Fuck… Yes!” You cry out as you cum around his cock again.

Daryl growls at the sight and feel of you cumming a second time on his cock. He cuts loose and fucks into you as hard as you have ever experienced. He smacked your ass over and over and slammed into with more urgency every hit. You whined and moaned a loving approval with every hard hit, You stare up at him, loving the way he looks at you as he fucks you. You grind your hips harder into him and stare lowly at him, wanting him to cum inside you. You clench your pussy and hips onto his cock a few more times and watch his head shoot back and his eyes shut. He hits harshly into you a few more times before exploding his cum inside you.

“Fuck! Y/N!!” He cries out your name as he explodes inside you, harshly holding your hips into his, thrusting them onto his cock a few more times as he rides out his high. He smacks your ass harshly a few more times before lowering your ass back to the ground and pulling his big cock out of you.  You whimper a little as he exists you, already missing the feeling of him inside you. He pushes his body back up yours and presses his naked body onto yours from above.

He stares into your eyes and brushes a piece of hair away from your eyes. He uses his fingers to playful trace along your forehead, under your eyes, around your cheeks, and resting on your bottom lip. It lingers there for a moment before he begins to trace your lips up and down in a swirling motion. He stares at your lips as if mesmerized and then looks back up at you, his finger staying on your mouth.

“I’ll teach you anything you want, darlin…” He looks back down at his finger on your lips and then looks back up.

“But from now on, you don’t put yourself in danger unless you have to… I can’t allow anything to happen to you.” He said, moving his finger up to your nose to boop it quickly. He strokes the side of your face for a moment as you look up at him, completely in love with everything about him and his touch. You watch as his stares down at you, leaning his lips back in to take yours.

You sigh arching your body up into his, once again on fire. You feel his tongue plunge into your mouth and begin to make love to it again. You moan, moving your hands back to his body and his hair. You hoped all your days would be covered in this man above you. You smile, lost in your dream and his tongue once again…


Tagged: @katieswinforddiaries @rawr-bitches @jodiereedus22 @whovianayesha @hearydaysquite @kal-kal28 @team-barry @simpledyiing @sesshomaru @khyharah @dashesoflipstick   @tiquismiquis @dunne31 @bryai003 @ketxo @justaclumsybrunette  @clinicalkayla @teamfreewiffy @kawaiirepublic @micamaloley @letusunalivethem 

Building the Machine: Part 2, Breaking Down the Parts, Picking Materials

Part 1, Collecting References

Now that you have all your references, how do you get started? The first thing to do with any costume is to break things down into its base parts. Let’s use another Automata character as an example.

Her outfit can be broken down into the following parts:

  • Cloak
  • Shirt
  • Pants
  • Belt
  • Weapon
  • Boots
  • Gloves
  • Kneepads
  • Hip holster

When you break a costume down into its base components, it’s easier to see the individual pieces and pick a starting place. When you begin working on a piece, you might have to break things down even further. For example, the cloak can be further broken into the cloak, hood, tassles, decorations, and cloak clasp. Alternately, you can group things together; the gloves, kneepads, and hip holster could easily be grouped together as “accessories.” 

So how about the machine?

We broke it down as follows:

  • Head
  • Torso
  • Curved neck/shoulder/back portion
  • Arms
  • Legs
  • Electronics - Eyes
  • Electronics - Cooling
  • Undersuit

While “Electronics - Eyes” could belong with the head, we’re breaking it out as a specific thing we want to remember. “Electronics - Cooling” is also important so we want to make sure we build things with that in mind. If you need a wig or a specific makeup job, those need to be considered too. 

The other thing we had to do was reassign the proportions. As you can see in the picture, the machine is shorter than a human with the shoulders lower and hands reaching the knees. The hands and legs are also very skinny. How do you translate that to a human?

 Take a picture of yourself against a neutral background (front, ¾, side, back). If you have an image editing program, you can reduce opacity to 50-75%. Now you have a template you can print out to draw on or use an image editing program to scale images to. This is useful for scaling costumes with unusual proportions, but can also be good for scaling large props, or serving as a template for an original design.

This method helped us figure out the proportions for the machine as well as how to do the arms and legs. We also decided what to build the limbs from; Sintra and styrene because we have plenty of both on hand. Using materials we already have means we can put the budget toward other things. Both are also lightweight and durable.

We had a few ideas on how to do the head (paper mache, slush-casting), but decided to see if we could find something pre-made. After visiting a few plastic stores and home improvement stores and not finding anything, we found an acrylic globe online (that can be picked up at Home Depot; go figure). 

For the torso, we originally wanted to find a garbage can or some other kind of large tube. Unfortunately, we couldn’t find a large tube or a garbage can that wouldn’t require large amounts of surfacing. We decided to go with EVA foam for the outside with a plastic frame on the inside. For the curved shoulder/back part we’re thinking about carving XPS board, but we haven’t fully decided yet.

Have plans in mind, but stay flexible too. Remember money isn’t the only cost, but also time, both for making and finding materials. 

That wraps up this write-up. The next update will be the start of the build. See you then!

So Klance as some badass space cowboys ...

Seriously, imagine Lance in this outfit: leather pants, low slung, with hip holsters and shoulder holsters, since he’s the sharpshooter. Lance has a blue long leather jacket, because of course. A navy blue cowboy hat, because Lance would love it and never take it off. 

He’s the ranged fighter so Keith can be the close-combat fighter without getting sniped. And when he and Keith go into the space saloons, ready to gamble because they’re low on funds and need quick cash, Lance distracts the folks at the tables simply by being his flirtatious self — he’s learned how to hone it, use it to his advantage in more subtle ways. I mean, look at him:

And Keith? He’s rocking an even longer jacket, a dark red duster, and he uses a pair of twin knives as his weapons of choice, but you better believe he has daggers hidden all over his person. 

And while Lance is being quietly distracting, making eyes at the other poker players, Keith is using slight-of-hand to make sure they get a decent sized pot to take home — and he’ll be smug as hell when he gets to walk out with everyone’s money and Lance, the one they’ve all been drooling over. 

Not that his facial expression would give any of that away, he’ll just stand up and give them all an intense glare:

And they do contract mercenary jobs to stay fed, which doesn’t always work out, but it doesn’t matter as long as they survive to get paid — but they can’t always help themselves when it comes to helping people out for free. They’ve got a reputation that gets them both honest and dishonest work, and they kick ass every time. In leather, and boots, and wearing holsters, and just …

So yeah, this idea wouldn’t leave me alone, therefore, I wrote fic about it:

Trouble Coming (In the Dead of Night)

What this show has done to me … 

One-Shot: Peter, x3

Now I really need someone to come up with an idea for a Peter, Peter and Peter story! Someone getting Parker, Maximoff and Quill into one request or prompt. I’d love the person able to do it 5-ever for sure XD Not trying to be mean just… well maybe a bit. Something like “Why are all guys in my life called Peter?” feat. my brother, my best friend and that weird guy in a spaceship! -Requested by anon
I had an idea of a team-up last night, so here’s a one-shot feat. Peter, Peter, and Peter XD 

Characters: Peter Parker, Peter Maximoff, Peter Quill
Word Count: 1,746

Keep reading

Georgia Gothic

You mention a democratic politician during casual conversation. The words ‘2nd amendment’ rumbles deep in the back of the throats of the natives. They all instinctively reach for their hip where a holster would normally sit.

It is 96 degrees Fahrenheit outside. Yesterday it snowed 3 inches. You think it may have rained on Tuesday.

There is a man by the side of the road selling homegrown vegetables and fruits. You buy a watermelon. “They’re in season!” He says, his smile full of teeth. Too many teeth. They are always in season.

You visit the islands of Georgia. The sand is pale. It is as pale as the faces of the national park rangers. “Don’t go onto the beach at night.”

You go fishing in a river. You catch a Bass. Bass don’t have teeth normally do they?

Peaches. There are peaches everywhere here. You cannot escape them. You must eat them. Peach viscera coats your floor, and peach puts fill your garbage can. You are happy. The peaches are sweet and sticky.

You feel the call of the World of Coca-Cola. You cannot resist. You must make the pilgrimage to Atlanta. You have seen the same car pulled onto the side of the road with its hazards on five times. You reach the world of coke. You do not remember your name as you wander through bubbley, red halls. You try the Beverly. You are infinite.

Excerpt from one of the several Check, Please! fics I am working on.

This one’s an AU, one of the “Jack went into the NHL at 18 and Bitty has some unrelated career” variety, of which there are many.

Shitty Knight (that was going to take some getting used to) was waiting outside the locker room when Jack emerged. With him was a shorter man, slender and blond, wearing a blue t-shirt and the shortest red shorts Jack had ever seen on an adult. He had sunglasses perched on his head and was deep in conversation with Knight. Must be an intern.

As Jack drew nearer, they both turned toward him. Jack almost stopped walking. The blond man was armed; he had a hip holster clipped to the waistband of his miniscule red shorts.

“Um – hello,” Jack said. He was trying not to stare at this tiny, armed – okay, the word his brain kept suggesting was ‘twink,’ but that seemed uncharitable so he resisted it. This tiny armed person. He focused on Knight, who would surely explain.

“Jack. Good skate?”


“Yeah, I coulda predicted that. Jack, this is Eric Bittle. He’ll be heading up your security detail.”

Jack could not keep the look of incredulity off his face. Bittle seemed totally unsurprised by his gobsmacked expression. “Go ahead, get it out of your system,” he said, his voice a smooth, Southern-accented tenor.

“I’m sorry, but – really?”

Knight also looked like he’d had this conversation more than once before. “To paraphrase Shakespeare, though he be but little, he is fierce.”

“Midsummer Nights’ Dream,” Jack said.

“Mr. Bittle is my best agent, Jack. He may not look like a bodyguard, but he is quick and he’s a crack shot.”

“If you say so, Knight, but…” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Okay, I’m not usually this much of an asshole, but this is my life we’re talking about, and you – I’m sure you’re good at your job, but you look like I could tip you over with two fingers.”

Bittle calmly took the sunglasses off his head and handed them to Knight. “Try it.”

Jack spluttered a little. “Look, I’m not going to…”

“Bless your heart, this isn’t my first time at the bake-off, Mr. Zimmermann. I know how this goes. Nobody buys it until I show them, so go ahead. Try it. And don’t hold back.”


in honor of getting 100 twitter followers on my sterek fic rec account @getsterekt​ im making a rec list of my all time favorite fics. so strap yourselves in.

all fics are sterek. some may have bg relationships. all are complete.

(fics with a * are my ultimate favs)

 Night And Day (You Are The One) by  maiNuoire

Derek has a hard time sleeping sometimes, and mornings are tough for Stiles. Together, they get through the day.  

WORDS: 1082


RATING: mature

WARNINGS: inferred depression and anxiety (its literally mostly fluff tho)

 Like A Baby Duck  by ALoza

Derek hoists Stiles to his feet, and the six-year-old topples forward into the ten-year-old’s chest. He grunts and wipes at his cheek.

“Sorry,” Derek blurts, eyes wide with worry, as he steadies him.

Stiles smiles and shrugs, “‘s okay.”

Derek smiles back and crosses his arms, “Okay, you have to be the prince and I’ll be the knight that has to rescue you, okay?”

Stiles nods, “Okay.”

“Go to sleep in the treehouse and when I kiss you, you have to wake up,” Derek instructs.

WORDS: 1300


RATING: general


 Cherry Pie by kaistrex (weishen)

Derek Hale is a dreaded customer at Beacon Hills Bakery, but perhaps he’s not as terrifying as Stiles has been led to believe.

WORDS: 1616


RATING: general


*The Sun After 10 Years Of Rain. by  eeyore9990

When he was twenty five years old, John Stilinski fell in love at first sight. It’s not a story he shares often – Claudia’s name alone is hard enough to speak these days – but he thinks maybe it’s time to tell it.

Because there’s a werewolf on his front porch looking at his son the same way John used to look at Claudia.

WORDS: 1804


RATING: general

WARNINGS: mentions of minor character death and minor underage

**i could never find the words by stilinski

Stiles scoops up the food before Scott can get any ideas. “I talked to Derek for almost six hours straight this morning,” he says. “I’m having an internal crisis.”

There’s a pause, and then: “Finally gonna admit you want to tap that?”

WORDS: 2821


RATING: teen and up

WARNINGS: referenced non-con

LIKE REAL PEOPLE DO  by omghoechlinplease

There’s a beat of horrified silence for Stiles before he sees Derek’s shoulders rapidly shaking.

“Shut the fuck up,” Stiles hisses, throwing his phone on the couch and walking over to the kitchen, wrapping his arms around Derek. But that only makes Derek laugh harder and Stiles responds by biting Derek on the shoulder. “I hate you.”

“Liar,” Derek says through a smile.

WORDS: 3043


RATING: general


**the office by  stilinskisparkles

“Sure, I like him,” Derek scowls right at the camera, “We’re friends.” He blinks, expression suddenly going hopeful, “Why, did he say something?”


“I have worked at Beacon Hills Office Supplies for two and a half years,” Stiles pretends to hang himself with his tie, glances out of the conference room to where Derek is signing for a package with a suspicious look on his face. “It’s not all bad, I guess?”

WORDS: 3197


RATING: teen and up


Five Times Derek Literally Falls for Stiles (and One Time…They Both Fall) by myhomeboy_stilinski

Five times Derek is a failwolf and literally falls for Stiles Stilinski.
And one time they fall together.

WORDS: 3463


RATING: teen and up


**********Derek Hale’s Possible Heart. by MellytheHun

“To The Person That Conquers My Little Brother’s Possible Heart: Safety Tips, Cheat Codes and Partial User’s Manual.”

WORDS: 4301


RATING: teen and up

WARNINGS: may make u cry 

Children’s Tales by  artemis69

Be careful, little girl.

Don’t go causing troubles in Beacon Hills, because the Hales live there, little girl.

Keep away from Beacon Hills, little girl, or the Hales will destroy you.

In a world where the Hales are alive and the protectors of the town of Beacon Hills, the humans politely fake ignorance of their not-really-human status, and they all live happily ever after.

Then Kate comes in. Well. Tries to.

WORDS: 4690


RATING: general

WARNINGS: kate argent 

***You are waiting for a train… by  wiski

Stiles woos Derek with his amazing poetic prowess at a New York City Subway station.

Or, in which Stiles was a dumbass who wrote ridiculous(ly awful) haikus, and Derek was the dumbass who liked them.

WORDS: 4765


RATING: teen and up


The One With The Napping by  Captain_Loki

It is a unique and somewhat unhelpful talent, but Stiles can fall asleep anywhere.

WORDS: 4768


RATING: mature


Feline Purrfect. by  halelujah

Derek tries to get Stiles to Shift. Or bug Scott into telling him what exactly his best friend is. Neither one is any closer in actually happening, but he’s nothing but persistent.

The fact he’s standing in a teenager’s room at fuck o'clock says so.

“’m not tellin’ you, Derek.” Scott mumbles into his pillow. “No matter ‘ow early you come ov'r.”

“But why?” He hopes he doesn’t sound like a petulant child stamping their foot.

“'cause not my secret to tell,” is the muffled reply, before he’s dismissed with a back turned his way.

He doesn’t go home to sulk, he doesn’t.

[Or the one where Stiles is also an animal Shifter, but for the life of him, Derek can’t seem to find out what exactly Stiles Shifts into, until all the clues come together.]

WORDS: 10006


RATING: teen and up


Babcia Knows Best by  thepsychicclam

Stiles takes his grandmother to bingo every Thursday. Now there’s a new guy calling out the numbers, and his grandmother has decided to set them up.

WORDS: 11886


RATING: teen and up


***I Was Present While You Were Unconscious  by  CharWright5

Stiles had often thought about how he’d meet his soul mate, the literal muscular man of his dreams. He just didn’t ever imagine finding him on Facebook where a friend had shared a news article about a werewolf John Doe in a coma after a car wreck four hours out of town. And he also didn’t expect to bond and fall in love with the guy’s family before ever saying two words to him out loud.

WORDS: 19421


RATING: mature

WARNING: derek is in a coma, a lil angsty

Introduction to Zero-Sum Anthropology by apocryphal

Stiles buys Derek a set of cooking spoons. Derek retaliates with lunch.

The war begins.

WORDS: 19773


RATING: teen and up


here is the deepest secret nobody knows by  owlpostagain

“Derek,” Stiles groans. “You have me. You’ve always had me, you absolute moron, how many physically impossible feats of life-saving heroics do I have to perform before you get it?”

WORDS: 22322


RATING: teen and up 


******Between Dogs and Wolves by artemis69

“This is…not four million in cash,” remarks Stilinski.

“Isaac. Did you fail to get my money back and decided to pick up a stripper on the road to bribe me? Because let me make this perfectly clear: this would totally work. Well done.”


The mafia!AU where the Hales owe four million to the Stilinskis, Laura rents Derek (but not as a stripper), Stiles gets a new favorite, Derek gets a new boss, a new puppy and a new family.

Sometimes they break people, but mainly, they just snark at each other.

WORDS: 25813


RATING: teen and up

WARNINGS: graphic depictions of violence

if this river don’t drown me, it’s down i’ll mean to roam by  wolvesinthemoonlight (EndlessSnowfall)

“Who the hell are these guys.” Commander Hale barks, his hand automatically going to his hip holster and Stiles lunges forward, stopping him from pulling his gun out.

“No! Ah… Um. Commander Hale. These are…. These are Atlanteans.” He manages to stutter out, removing his hand from Commander Hale’s person under Peter’s deathly glare of death. He takes a step back but watches as the Commander doesn’t immediately pull his gun out so he counts it as a win.

“What?” Kate hisses, turning to look back at Stiles with a shocked expression. “You can’t be serious. Atlanteans? That’s impossible!”

WORDS: 35403


RATING: teen and up

WARNING: graphic depictions of violence

All In by  myredturtle

Scott finally pulls a a stunt so boneheaded that Stiles can’t think of any way to get him out of it. Hoping to outrun the fallout, he packs up his father and they move to Canada. Unfortunately, nowhere is safe.

WORDS: 39120


RATING: mature

WARNING: major character death/s, (happy ending) graphic depictions of violence

He Was Pointing At the Moon but I Was Looking At His Hand by  monopolizeme 

Stiles is sitting on the couch with a box full of cereal (a mouth full of cereal) when the doorbell rings. The fact that someone has chosen to ring the bell is of itself strange enough, because his father is not home so he is not expecting anyone official – and Scott always just opens the door like it’s his own house and Derek uses Stiles’ bedroom window.

WORDS: 53,265



Just The Same by ericaismeg

Something is seriously up with the captain of the lacrosse team. There’s just no way Derek Hale is human.
“I was wondering if you’re even human. You move so quickly. I mean, it’s ridiculously fast. No human should be able to move that fast, y'know? It’s unfair for us. I mean, it’s obvious you work out, and I don’t, so that could be why, but like…I was just wondering if you were human, that’s all.”

“Stop talking, Stilinski, or I'll—”

“Put me on the bench all season?” Stiles asks knowing full well that Derek Hale can’t threaten him with shit.

WORDS: 68066


RATING: general


The Moon’s Gonna Follow Me Home by  turningterrific

Derek doesn’t want to call the window repair guy. He doesn’t want to sweep up the glass. He’ll inevitably miss a few shards and pull them out of the bottom of his bare feet for weeks.

He doesn’t want to try to make this place feel like home when it isn’t.

Derek stayed in Beacon Hills and tried to make it work because he wanted pack, wanted purpose. He gave his best effort and found himself back where he started: alone, with a few begrudging allies. He’s tired, and even though his werewolf body heals quickly, he feels the weary ache down to his center.

He packs his car with the few things he cares about enough to drag them from place to place. He locks the loft and calls a realtor about listing the building he’d bought in a misguided attempt to secure a future.

And then he leaves.

WORDS: 82866


RATING: explicit

WARNINGS: past abuse

An Artist’s Personal Statement by  howl-to-the-wind (greenleaf)

Being the middle child of five siblings, Stiles was used to taking the backseat. He was twenty-one years old, mouthy, pale skinned, and twitchy, and was probably the most overlooked in such a talented and good-looking family. Not only that but more often than not, he was bullied, teased, exposed (in a literal sense) and also ended up getting banged up and bruised. Thank goodness, there’s Dr. Hale to patch him up after all is said and done.

WORDS: 87818


RATING: explicit


Breathe Me by  mommymuffin

Stiles tries desperately, but the air just won’t come to him. He can’t do it himself. He needs someone. Someone to help him.

And Scott left him.

WORDS: 127,098