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.
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
ALSO NOT MY GIFS!
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.
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.
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)
darling, i’ll tuck your name under my tongue
beneath his station, what he was doing. Cassian couldn’t bring himself to care.
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
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.
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. ;)
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
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
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
“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
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
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
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
“I’m sorry, I just wanted-“ You started but he interrupted
“Can’t even listen to simple instructions.” He muttered to
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
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
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
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
“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
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
“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
“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
“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
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
“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
“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
“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
“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
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,
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
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
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
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
“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
“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
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
“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
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…
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:
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:
Curved neck/shoulder/back portion
Electronics - Eyes
Electronics - Cooling
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!
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:
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
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.”
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.
WARNINGS: mentions of minor character death and minor underage
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.”
“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?”
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.
“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!”
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.
WARNING: major character death/s, (happy ending) graphic depictions of violence
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.
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.
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.
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.