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i saw in a podcast that diane said she does feel a bit insecure at times when they’re apart and she wonders what normans doing but she also said that trusts him and doesnt have time to think of stuff like that cause shes always working/taking care of her daughter
idk i feel like he may have done something behind her back at one point. hes a white male celebrity. i love norman but lets not act like hes a saint 😭😭😭
Also let’s not assume that cheating has happened.
Cheating is way too normalised when talking about celebrities. He said the most important thing to him is honesty so take that as you will
Telling Daryl you need new bras and casually telling home what size you need and he has genuinely no idea what you’re talking about but he goes out and tries to find you something he thinks will fit.
Do you really think Norman and Diane don't cheat on each other? I’m genuinely asking, it’s not that I necessarily believe it, but I find it hard to imagine they don't have an open relationship or something like that; they spend so much time apart, and there are some stories out there about him with other women. I know it’s none of our business. Just curious
Idk.
Diane said she has very high standards that she won’t settle for less.
If they have an arrangement then good for them but idk cuz idk them
would you or anybody happen to know the connection between norman and the girl he recently put on his story? the one with the song, i looked through her account and he likes like all of her posts. im pretty sure she did his hair for the recent magazine shoot he did but i haven't seen them make any contact prior to that and its making me overthink a little ngl
Telling Daryl you need new bras and casually telling home what size you need and he has genuinely no idea what you’re talking about but he goes out and tries to find you something he thinks will fit.
content: 18+, SMUT, MINORS DNI, prison era, sub daryl, pretty vanilla (didn't wanna make it kinky as that feels pretty uncharacteristic for daryl), reader on top, let's ignore that i left daryl high and dry here, short and straight to the point, 0.9k words
While dominating Daryl, he has to stop and tell you that you're being too rough.
Daryl’s stretched out on the bed, unclothed, with his hands gripping the meat of your thighs as you straddle him.
He never thought he'd be in this position—so open, so willing, under the control of another, let alone a woman. But here he lies, face twisted into a grimace while you ride him so hard he thinks he might combust.
He's not quite sure what's gotten into you this evening. Usually speaking, yours and Daryl’s sex life is pretty tame. Not boring, just… normal.
He’s also used to being the one on top. In a post-apocalyptic world, missionary just seems to be the quickest, most convenient position.
Sex with him is satisfactory, to say the least. He doesn't have the highest sex drive, but he always gives in when you have the itch. He'd do just about anything to make you happy, which is why—
“Fuck, Daryl!” you moan above him, loud enough to wake the entire cell block. He sits up in just enough time to clamp his big hand over your mouth. You ride his dick like it's your last day on earth, like a herd of walkers is sure to lurch in and tear the both of you apart.
You're relentless, grinding against his dick at a rate he would be impressed by if he wasn't fearing for his goddamn life. Your hands slam down on his bare chest, keeping him locked in place and allowing you to maintain the rapid movement of your hips.
He’s been grinning and bearing it, which he fully intends on keeping up—until you slap him across the face.
That has his hands reaching out to seize your hips, thumbs roughly digging into the flesh. With the brute strength of his arms, you're unable to move. You're forced to sit on his dick and look him in the eyes, reminding you that you're only in control because he lets you.
“Jesus Christ, girl,” is the first thing to come rasping out from his mouth. The devastated look in your eyes is enough to make him falter over his words. He swallows hard, letting up his hold over your hips. “You're bein’ too rough.”
You frown. “I didn't mean to hurt you,” you say not so innocently. Your thighs tremble on each side of his middle, the wetness from your cunt permeating the dark patch of hair atop his pubic bone.
“You're not exactly hurtin’ me. It's just…” he trails off, looking somewhere past your face. “You're gonna break the damn bed,” he says with a laugh.
You grin stupidly at him. “Guess I got a little carried away, huh?”
“Ya think?” He tucks a strand of sweaty hair behind your ear. “Ya just wanna come so bad, is tha’ it?”
You nod.
“Go on then, sunshine.” He lightly pats your hip. “Make yourself feel good for me.”
You begin to roll your hips against his lap, only a little slower this time. He lies back down, relishing the view that is you conquering his dick. His dick hits the back of your cunt just right with every grind of your hips, eliciting soft moans to fall from your mouth.
He feels you squirm above him, knowing you must ache to pick up the pace, ride him harder, but you're obedient, careful to heed his warning.
Well, for the most part anyway.
“Careful,” he warns when he feels your hips buck forward, threatening to move at a quicker, harsher pace. “Don't wanna wear your old man out, do ya?”
You shake your head, mumbling something unintelligible in response. His lips twitch into a grin, amused that only he has this kind of power over you—and the same goes for him.
Despite his warnings, you can't help but hasten the grinding of your lower body, chasing after something he can feel approaching from inside you. He grasps your hips again, but instead of stopping you, he pushes them back and forth, guiding the movement.
He smirks. “Like a bitch in heat,” he says, fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs. Your newfound pace is teetering on too much for the old man, but he's far too in awe to do anything about it now. He lies under you with his mouth hung agape while you use him to get off.
“I-I’m gonna—fuck,” manages to escape from your mouth, hips jerking violently back and forth, fingers clinging to his chest. His eyes tape shut, feeling himself become overworked but too stubborn to do anything to stop it. He’s yours… and you're going to use him like it.
“There ya go, girl,” he rasps, putting his weight on his hands to sit level with you. He cocks his head back and a bead of sweat travels from his chin all the way down to his collarbone, stopping beside the tattoo on his chest. “Take what you need.”
And you do just that—folding on top of his chest when your orgasm takes control, causing you to helplessly tremble all over. He holds you in place by your ribs, gently coaxing you through your peak with that raspy southern drawl.
When your orgasm fades, you sit back up on his dick and work to catch your breath. He uses his thumbs to rub slow circles on your thighs, grinning up at you like you’ve never seen.
“What?” you ask, smiling at him.
“Nothin’,” he says, placing his hands behind his head.
“Hope it was worth it,” he adds after a minute.
“Hope what was worth it?”
“Almost killin’ me.”
“Shut up,” you say with a laugh, playfully smacking his chest. “You're so dramatic.”
He scoffs. “You're an animal, woman.”
You lean down, pressing a small peck to his lips. “And you love me.”
