Summary: You get way too much unwanted attention from Shane. He takes it too far - but the man you harbour feelings for is here to put the former police man in his place.
Warnings: Trigger warning! Shane – he's a huge warning here, lots of swear words and cussing, angst? Shane trying to get in Reader's pants without her wanting it, harassment, Shane getting kinda physical, PROTECTIVE!DARYL, fluff, idiots in love, mentions of Daryl's abusive past, a fight, blood, mentions of walkers
Set in Season 2!
Word Count: 3,7k
a/n: Woke up one morning a few days - weeks? ago, had this idea and brain was like: Write that down. So, I did. Turns out that this is probably one of my favourite stories I ever wrote.
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"Ya been sittin' here 'n just starin' at me fer fuckin' forever. Wha' is it? Know there's sum'thin' ya wanna talk about." You blinked; eyes lifting to look at Daryl sitting across from you. Only the small campfire between the both of you. He was occupied with carving some kind of spear or more likely a spit out of a thicker branch to grill the fish he had angled in the river earlier.
Ever since the archer had shut himself off quite a little from the group - from the farm, and camped outside of the Greene property, you found yourself way more often out here than close to the others as well.
Logically.
Yes, you missed Daryl and his presence.
Yes, you enjoyed his company more than probably everyone else.
Yes, you felt safer with him than with the group.
And yes, you might've caught feelings for the 'rough and tough' redneck.
However, the main reason you spent most of the time up here was another. The one that got you staring rather absentmindedly at the man sitting across from you...
You swallowed at Daryl's words; taking a deep breath and just watched him work the branch with his knife for another moment before you finally spoke up - for the first time since you came here. "It's just... Shane..." As the name of the former cop left your lips, Daryl froze in his movements - knife stopping mid slice. His blue eyes snapped up to meet yours; darkened, dangerous and almost angry - not at you, though. "Tha' asshole say sum'thin' to ya again?" Daryl asked with a deep growl.
It was no secret that the archer didn't really like Shane. He honestly never did. The little respect he had for him flew right out of the window after his first proper search for Sophia. Shane was aggressive, acted rash and the only ones he really cared about were Carl and Lori. The others? He didn't give a shit. Just like about Otis. Daryl was almost sure he sacrificed him at that school. He would sacrifice everyone for 'his family' - even his best friend. Daryl wasn't stupid. He was good at reading people. Dale knew it as well.
"Did he touch ya?" He questioned further; voice dropping another octave. You shook your head. "N-No, no... Not... yet. He just..." "Those stupid comments 'n all tha' shit?" You nodded.
Daryl knew. You had often told him about this. Silent complaints. Seeking help. Despite Shane's quite 'obvious' undying love for Lori, he liked to hit on other women. Especially you - as it seemed. He had often attempted to try and get inside your pants. It had started 'harmless'. Little comments here and there. Flirtations. Talks. His intentions had been clear right away - and you had told him 'No' from the very start. Shane wasn't the man you craved or wanted physical touch with.
Things escalated more and more - and now that Daryl wasn't around the farm anymore to send Shane a threatening glare from time to time, it seemed like the former police man used this current situation to his 'advantage'.
"Not just comments anymore, though... He... He often tries to... corner me. Like... against a wall, o-or tree, o-or even the henhouse yesterday as I got eggs for Patricia to cook. I feel like it gets w-worse and..." You paused for a heartbeat to swallow hard; fingers fumbling nervously. "...I don't know how, uh, long I'll be able to... escape this."
Daryl got what you meant. Of course, he did. His jaw ticked; muscles tightening. "Tha' son of a bitch," he literally growled; one hand squeezing the branch tighter - before he threw the piece of wood and his knife to the grassy ground beside him. Within the blink of an eye he was on his feet. "Gonna tell tha' piece 'a shit a few words. Ask 'im if he's deaf or jus' stupid 'cause he ain't understanding what 'No' means," he grumbles; already starting to march away before you could even react or speak up. "Yer gonna stay here. Keep an eye on tha' fire."
All you could do was watch him stomp away and mumble a quiet "'Kay."; eyes following him. You didn't intend to stop him. Daryl was your safe space. The only one - besides probably Dale who had the balls to confront him. And you wanted this shit to end. Therefore, you let Daryl do his thing. You just hoped it wasn't going to escalate. Both men with a temper and not the longest fuse. Both men hot-headed.
So, you sat there - at Daryl's little campfire. A little shaken up and nervous, but kept an eye on the fire like he told you. Watching the flames dance in the warm late summer air with the slowly darkening sky above you had something utterly calming. Almost hypnotic. Yet, your mind stayed sharp. You weren't behind safe walls or fences... A geek could stumble across here anytime.
You didn't know exactly how much time passed before you saw Daryl approaching the little camp again, but it certainly wasn't that much. Your eyes scanned him from tip to toe as soon as you recognised his frame in the distance; checking if he was okay. It seemed like it.
Wordlessly, but with a signature grunt, the archer sat across from you again and picked up his task where he left off.
You blinked; eyes still on him for another quiet moment. That was is? No words, just a grunt?
"What, uh, did he say?" You asked after another beat of silence; carefully and in a quieter voice than usual. Daryl shrugged his shoulders. "Ain't much. Told him 't keep his wandering hands off 'a ya. Gave 'im a last warning 'n left."
You knew exactly that Daryl was most likely describing this confrontation more friendly than it actually played out; not wanting to put you through this shit.
"Okay," you mumbled and offered him a soft smile. "Thank you."
Daryl being Daryl, said nothing in return and just gave you a nod and another grunt.
Silence spread between you two then. It wasn't uncomfortable or unpleasant, just thoughtful but actually nice. Most of the times, you didn't need words to communicate with Daryl anyway. You got his body language; could read him most of the times - even if you didn't know why. The chemistry between the both of you just seemed to click.
He handed you the spear he just carved, broke another branch over his knee and carved another spear. You watched him work; his survival skills remarkable. You didn't know him long but you did know that he was made for this world. Probably one of the few people for whom the apocalypse was a blessing.
Once he was done, he handed you one of the gutted fishes he had caught.
Dinner.
He always looked out for you. Silently. Made sure you ate enough, got weapons on you and so on. It never was a huge gesture or words. Small things. Quiet things. That's how he showed you he cared. His love language.
Together, you cooked the fishes over the fire and ate together; with the sun sinking deeper and deeper beyond the horizon.
"Daryl?" You spoke his name quietly; still watching the dying flames dance and flicker - casting shadows on his handsome features. The archer's eyes snapped up to focus on you again - a silent answer.
"Can I... sleep with you tonight?"
His blue orbs widened to the size of plates - and you realized how easy it was to misunderstand the sentence you just dropped.
"I-I mean in your tent! Here! Not alone at the camp w-with the others!" You instantly corrected; kinda backtracking.
Nevertheless, the damage was done - at least for Daryl. He stood up quickly and turned his back to you; occupying himself with anything - just so that his flustered self didn't have to look into your eyes at the moment. He was blushing. Hard.
You silently watched him move across his camp; 'cleaning' up and avoiding eye contact. Shit, you thought. I screwed it up. Your brain already came up with a trillion different apologies; wanting to repair what you had destroyed - but then...
"Ya comin' or wha'?"
You blinked and looked up at Daryl again; seeing how he held back the flap of his tent for you to crawl in. A smile crossed your face and you stood up; stepping past the dying campfire and inside the tent. "Thought I crossed a border. Thought I was making you uncomfortable. Don't want that. Ever." You received a low grunt in return, followed by the sound of the zipper being shut before he turned on his knees to face you again - head ducked, chewing nervously on the pad of his thumb and shrugged his shoulder. "Didn't say tha'...," the archer retorted in a low, quiet voice.
You just gave him another soft smile; deciding to drop this 'topic' before you'd really make him feel uncomfortable. "'Kay. Thanks for letting me sleep here. I just... I don't wanna see Shane again today or cross his path." The man across you gave you an understanding nod. He got it. Of course, he did.
You slept way better that night than any night before; knowing that no geek and no Shane could harm you here. You were at the safest place on this world - with Daryl. Not yet in his arms, but that would hopefully change someday...
Barely a few days later - on another quite hot evening in late summer, Daryl made his way through the high grass of the meadow to reach the Greene farm. He wanted to check in on Carol - subtly, of course. He cared about her a lot as well - but he'd never admit that out loud.
His senses were sharpened, of course. They always were nowadays; blue eyes scanning is surroundings, one hand resting on the knife attached to his belt. No crossbow, but never unarmed.
Daryl was still a few yards from campsite when something in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He shifted his gaze. Two frames behind - or well, for him in front of the barn. He stopped; alerted and narrowed his eyes a bit with his hand on his forehead to shield his blues from the sinking sun. No walkers, that was certain.
But who then?
His feet picked up their task again and brought him forward. The closer he got, the clearer the shapes became - and once he recognised the people, his attention got drawn even more... He could clearly make out your frame - and a bigger one. Shaved head, no beard, tall and broad. Shane - and the archer's temper kicked in. Steps quickening.
He analyzed the scene playing out in front of his eyes and quickly realised what was happening; connecting the dots. You and Shane were clearly arguing - and he had gotten physical; hands on your wrists. He had cornered you again; shoven back against the wooden wall of the barn.
A huge wave of anger rolled over the archer. He had told Shane - warned him, and now he had enough.
His pace quickened again. By now he was running the last few yards separating him from you and the former policeman; hopping over the fences and any other obstacle in his way. Daryl was determined - and before Shane could even turn around to see what was awaiting him, he got roughly pulled back from the archer - away from you.
Your fearful eyes met Daryl's - and he could visibly see how you instantly relaxed at least a little; pure thankfulness and relief mirrored in your Y/E/C orbs.
The moment you and the archer shared, gave Shane just enough time to recover... "What the hell, man?!" He barked at Daryl - who instantly instinctively changed his position to stand in front of you like a human protective shield. "What do ya think you're doing, huh?" Shane continued; glaring. "Could ask ya the same," Daryl growled back. You stayed silent; too shaken up to speak. This time was very close... "Told ya to leave 'er alone." Shane huffed out a laugh. "You ain't her boyfriend, man."
Daryl scoffed. What a ridiculous thing to say... As if this would have to do anything at all with that. Bad attempt at talking his pathetic ass outta this, the archer thought.
"Ain't hafta be her boyfriend 't know how 't treat 'n respect a woman right and know wha' a fuckin' 'no' means."
Shane scoffed as well and ran a hand over his bald shaved head.
"No, huh? You don't see how she's lookin' at me. Playin' all coy and shy every time I make a move but I know she wants me."
Daryl shook his head; knowing exactly that this was nothing but delusion and wishful thinking. You wouldn't have come to him so many times - desperate and afraid; literally fleeing from campsite if you would really want this, too.
"She dun wanna have yer dick. She ain't Lori, asshole - or are ya delusional? Can't tell the difference anymore 'cause yer obsessed."
That was it. The moment things were going to escalate between those two hot-heads. Daryl knew it. Shane knew it. And you knew it as well.
The former police man huffed out another laugh; ran his hand over his head again - before he lunged at Daryl. The archer - a 'professional' when it came to brawls - ducked Shane's attempt and started an attack himself. His fist connected with his jaw; sending him tumbling back a few steps.
Daryl did that a lot in his past. Brawling. Fighting. Especially with a brother like Merle and an abusive father. He knew how to fight.
Shane needed a short moment to recover; blood dripping from his lip where it split due to the impact. A look that could kill darted across his face, before he lunged at Daryl again.
And you? You just watched; still frozen in place like a frightened bunny. You didn't know what to do. Intervening could end painful - and words wouldn't stop them.
The noise of the fight, though, attracted the attention of the other group members. It didn't take long for most of them to come running over to the barn as well; the men instantly working to separate Shane and Daryl.
"Hey, hey, hey!" Yelled Rick; pulling his 'best friend' together away together with T-Dog. Glenn and Dale working on Daryl. "What is going on here, huh?!" Rick asked - eyeing his friend and the archer, as they were finally apart; everyone panting hard.
Daryl ripped himself free from Glenn's and Dale's grasp to wipe his bloody hand on his shirt with the torn off sleeves; spitting out a little blood. "Warned ya. Told ya I was gonna beat yer ass into the ground if ya touchin' 'er again!" He growled at Shane; pointing at him. Rick instantly connected the dots; realising that this must be about you. His eyes found you - still a little shaken up. "Y/N?" Rick's voice grabbed your attention. "Can you tell me what's been goin' on here?"
You swallowed hard and opened your mouth to voice what - or well, who, has been bothering you since weeks - but then you felt it... The gazes of the others. All group members had their eyes on you - except Daryl, who kept on glaring at Shane. Sure, most of these gazes were sympathetic and concerned, but for you highly discomforting. You felt cornered again - in a different way.
"I-I-I..." You started; stammering and overwhelmed. Your body told you to run. To escape this situation. So, you did. "S-Sorry," was all you said before you turned your back and fled.
Daryl fought the urge to follow you - although that he knew you probably needed a moment alone. First, he had to step up for you, though. And he did - without hesitation. "Been hittin' on Y/N. Constantly cornerin' her 'n tryin' to get inside 'er pants," Daryl growled; explaining what he had been trying to protect you from. Rick turned to his best friend. "Shane? That the truth?" The accused man huffed out another laugh and shook his head. "C'mon, man. You know that I'd never do that." "Bullshit!" Daryl cut in immediately. "Ya'd take advantage 'a 'er without even thinkin' twice. Prolly already would've if it wasn't fer me!" The archer wanted to take a step closer, but got instantly held back by Glenn and Dale.
Rick's eyes wandered again from Daryl to Shane, while the others just held their breaths; shocked and probably too afraid to just cut into this conflict without having witnessed anything.
At the look the police officer threw his former colleague, he once again ran a head over his shaved head. "Really, Rick? You're gonna believe this obscure redneck more than me?" Rick clenched his jaw. "No, I didn't say that, Shane. I'm just tryin' to understand both sides and-"
Daryl had already heard enough again. This was pointless. Like he said before... This group was broken. Another reason why he had closed himself off.
"This shit's pointless," the archer cut the leader off mid-sentence and just started to stomp away; exiting the scene as well - but not without having a last few words for Shane. "Next time ya try anythin', it ain't gonna stay with jus' a fat lip." He threw another warning/threat Shane's way - hoping that he finally learned his lesson now. Especially now that the others caught wind of this as well.
The archer made his way back to his little camp; holding out for you, though. He didn't see you somewhere outside the farm - what calmed him; knowing that you were most likely out of danger and somewhere safe. The bright and shiny moon had replaced the sun by now almost entirely as Daryl zipped open the flap of his tent. With a grunt he crawled inside - only to find nobody else than you sitting on his bedroll; hugging your knees to your chest and with dried tears on your cheeks.
"Y/N." His name rolled so effortlessly over his lips; making you shiver - in a good way. "S-Sorry... I didn't know where to go, s-so I just came here..." You said; sniveling. Daryl shrugged his shoulders and turned again to zip the tent shut. "'S a'right. I dun mind." You gave him a soft smile and a thankful look. He nodded in return and just... looked at you for another moment, before he shuffled awkwardly and started to 'clean up' a little. A.k.a making space for you so you could stay the night. Daryl wasn't sure what to do. If he should ask how you were or not. If you needed something or not. He didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable. He was very uncertain, so he rather occupied himself with something else than letting you know.
You watched the archer 'work' for a few moments in silence, until your gaze landed coincidentally on his hands. With shock you realised that he was hurt. His knuckles were stained with blood. Some dried, but still seeping a little. "Daryl..." You spoke his name, catching instantly his attention. His head snapped up to face you.
"Yah?"
You moved, inched slowly closer to him. "Y-You're bleeding..." You whispered and cautiously reached for his hurt hand to inspect the damage - but giving him enough time to pull his hand away in case he didn't want the touch. He didn't. The archer was like rooted to the ground; holding his breath as your gentle fingers brushed his skin.
Physical touch wasn't easy for him - after all the bullshit he had been through in his childhood and youth. He had learned the physical contact mostly caused pain. But this... This was different. So fucking different from what he knew.
"Y-You split your knuckles... Do you have a first aid kit or something? Anything to treat the wounds?" Daryl blinked; ripped out of his thoughts. His blues met your Y/E/C. "Yeah, over-" His voice cracked. He tried again. "Over there." You followed the jut of his hand, gently let go of his hand to gather the first aid kit, only to return a few moments later to hold his hand again. "Sit. L-Let me help you."
Wordlessy, the man sat down on the bedroll beside you and letting you treat his split knuckles. And admittedly, Daryl had a hard time coping with this situation. Coping with so much... tenderness and gentleness. It was unknown territory - but it felt... right.
"There we go..." You said; tying the bandage around his hand, then shook your head. "Didn't want you to get hurt because of me..." You added in a quiet voice; blaming Shane but also yourself.
Daryl instantly shook his head; getting his shit together again. "Ain't yer fault. Asshole had it comin'. Deserved it. This ain't nothing," he gestured at his knuckles. "Gonna heal quickly. Had worse."
You sighed, "Yes, but... I don't know. Feeling guilty anyways." and without thinking leaned your head against his shoulder; arms and thighs brushing. You and Daryl had been close - but never this close before.
The archer froze once again; brain going blank for at least a solid minute as he tried to comprehend what was going on.
His skin was warm; biceps slightly sweaty but radiating nothing but warmth and comfort. Your eyes slipped shut. This felt so right. You never wanted to leave Daryl's side. Since he didn't shove you away, you thought he felt the same - or at least similar. Nevertheless remained a quiet voice of doubt.
But then something you couldn't quite foresee happened... Slowly, quietly, the archer wrapped his arm around your shoulders; big, work worn hand resting gently on your upper arm. The 'sudden' touch sent another shiver down your spine.
"Ya okay?" His voice deep and concerned, yet soft and caring. You started to smile and nodded, before you shyly reached for his free hand to loosely intertwine your fingers. "Now I am."
Summary: While Daryl and the Hilltop has to deal with a possible new threat, he tries to find time for his family as well.
Set in Season 9!
Warnings: dad!Daryl, short mention of pregnancy and birth, lots of fluff, mention of a main character death, a little bit of angst, mentions of Alpha and her methods, mentions of abuse, the Whisperers, Daryl being the best dad ever, swear words
Also, I used the names Willa and Ruby for the kids. You already know them from other stories. I didn't want to use a trillion different names, so I thought I am just going to stick to those two. Hope that makes sense.
Word Count: 3,8k
a/n: Writing brain demanded dad!Daryl, so I wrote dad!Daryl.
Disclaimer: Some of the conversation between Daryl and Lydia isn't mine. I just used their quotes from the show to fit the plot.
Love In The Rearview Mirror °☆• EoH Masterlist °☆• masterlist
It was a quite beautiful day today. The nights were still cool but it got noticeably warmer each day. Summer was approaching - fast. With a smile and a hand on your forehead to shield your eyes from the sun, you watched your seven-year-old daughter play 'tag' with another few kids from the Hilltop. You and your little family had been here since about six months now - after living out in the woods in a little cabin ever since Rick... You couldn't finish that thought without tears blurring your eyes. It was meant to be only a few weeks. But weeks turned into months and months into years. You knew Daryl was still searching for his brother. He had never given up on this. The fact that he liked to live out there just a pretense.
The reason you finally settled in Hilltop? Your second daughter you gave birth to merely a month ago. Of course, Daryl wouldn't let you have his baby out there. He was too afraid something could go wrong - and Jesus and Tara were more than happy to take you in.
"How can you be so calm and... okay about it?" The sudden question from Henry - on which you and Daryl agreed to keep an eye on for Carol, caught you rather off-guard. You blinked and turned your head; focusing on the teenager. "Sorry, Henry? What do you mean?" You threw a question back at him while gently rocking the infant in your arms to keep her asleep. The young man nodded at the gates. "Daryl being out there so often. I mean, he's your husband, right? And a father. He should be here, with you."
You furrowed your brows into a frown and crooked your head a little. "Are you saying he shouldn't look for Eugene? He's family. We have to find him." Henry instantly shook his head. "No, no, that's not what I meant. I mean... All the other times. I... I heard you talking to my mom about it. How often Daryl leaves to be out there." Your expression instantly shifted into a soft smile. You patted the empty place beside the log you sat on; asking the teenager to sit. Henry obliged and sat down beside you. His eyes fell instantly on the tiny girl in your arms, then lifted to meet your eyes. "Daryl is out there because he has to. He needs to. Not just because he's still looking for Rick. If he doesn't go out, he feels trapped. Caged. It's the freedom he needs - and who would I be to take that away from him?" The young man nodded; dwelling a little on his thoughts and your words. You let him; patiently waiting for him to speak up again, but the voice of Mr. Sutton - Earl cut through your conversation. "Henry! It's time for your next lesson!" He looked at you again - almost apologetic. "I-I should-" "Sure, go." You gave him a smile and watched how he quickly walked off.
You spent a whole night and with that over a whole day without your husband, since he was still out searching for Eugene together with Jesus and Aaron. You weren't worried. You knew how strong he was; a survivor. He'd always come back to you - to his family. But it was always difficult for Willa - your eldest. She knew that her daddy was a brave man and able to defend himself, but she was just a child after all and therefore scared he wouldn't come back to her. Understandably. This afternoon, though, the door to your little trailer swung open quietly; revealing a visibly exhausted Daryl. Dog followed him and instantly ran over to greet you; tail wagging and squeaking excitedly. You giggled quietly - since you didn't want to wake Willa, who was taking a nap in yours and Daryl's bed, and scratched Dog's head. Willa did that most of the times when her father wasn't around. Sleeping in your bed any chance she got. It made her feel safe. The smell of her dad.
Daryl was by your side only seconds later. You sat on a comfortable rocking chair in the corner; currently nursing Ruby - your newest addition to the family.
"Hey, babe," you whispered and smiled as he bent down to kiss your forehead, "Hey." and then your lips. "Did you find Eugene?" You instantly asked; reaching for his hand to slip your fingers through his. Daryl nodded; "Mhm." chewing on the inside of his bottom lip - and that was when you knew. Something wasn't right. You could feel it. You knew that man by heart now after all these years. "Is he okay? Are you okay?" "He's fine. Delocated his knee is all. 'M good, too." "But?" Your husband paused for a moment; chewing on his lip again. "Jesus is dead."
Your eyes widened as a wave of shock and sadness over rolled you. "W-What? H-How?" The archer swallowed hard. "Damn new people. Dunno much 'bout 'em, 'cept that they are walkin' with the dead. Wear their faces as masks. We captured one of 'em. 'M gonna try 'n get 'er to talk." Those new and not really good news were kinda overwhelming to you; torn between grief and worry. You lifted your eyes again to look into the blue ones of your husband; instinctively clutching the tiny human being in your arms closer - something that didn't slip the bowman's notice...
"A-Are they a... threat?" He shrugged his shoulders, "Dunno yet. Hope not." and squatted down in front of you. "Me neither." "Dun worry, sunshine. I know tha' ain't easy, but... Please. This lil' gremlin 'ere needs ya more than those worries do." You nodded; knowing that he was actually right. And even if they were a threat... The Hilltop was more than capable of defending itself. You were more than capable of defending yourself. However, you had two daughters to worry about. An infant... The last thing you actually wanted was a fight.
"I know, I know, it's just..." You whispered; eyes landing on Ruby, who was more asleep than awake in your arms but still suckling on your breast from time to time. Daryl understood. Of course, he did. You two didn't need words to communicate. "Hey, darlin'..." He squeezed your hand - the one which was firmly tucked into his bigger hand, and gently cupped the baby's head with the other; running his thumb through the chestnut brown fuzz of hair. "I ain't gonna let anythin' happen to either 'a ya. You know that. 'M gonna protect you 'n our kids as long as my sorry ass walks this damn earth - no matter wha'." "I know that, baby, but... Ruby's barely a month old. A fight - or hence, a war would be-" Daryl instantly shook his head, "Nah. Dun think like tha'." and interrupted your sentence. "Lemme get some more information outta that girl first. Ain't no point in rushing into things, 'kay?" You nodded. "'Kay."
Your husband gave you one of those sweet smiles which were only reserved for you, before he pressed a lingering, sweet kiss against his newborn daughter's head. Then he straightened back up, kissed you again as well. Your lips moved lazily against his and shortly after the kiss ended, you lifted a hand to cup his bearded cheek. "You're tired, babe." It wasn't a question. It was a statement. He nodded, "Fuckin' exhausted, sunshine." and slowly let go of your hand to walk over to the bed where his other child was.
Willa was still napping. Dog now, too; having trotted off during the conversation you and Daryl had to lay down on his makeshift dog beg. You watched him take off his boots and join Willa with a soft expression. "Get some sleep, Dar." "Mhm," he hummed; inching closer to the litte girl and carefully scooping her up in his arms. The archer knew how much she always missed him when he was away - and he always tried to make it up to her. Cuddles, playling together or teaching her some things - just anything to spend time with her.
"'M plannin' to," he mumbled; holding his child in a protective embrace. As if Willa subconsciously noticed that her father was back, she melted in his embrace and cuddled closer in her sleep. Daryl smiled gently with his eyes already closed shut. You watched how your husband and daughter napped together for a few long moments, before you quietly stood up with Ruby still in your arms. You put her into the baby sling Daryl found quite a while ago while being outside and left the trailer.
Your mission was clear. Find Tara and Aaron and check in on how they were doing after Jesus... You couldn't finish that thought. It was always hard to lose a member of your family. You planned to check in on Eugene and Rosita as well. They were your people, too, after all. However, you ran into someone entirely else. A person you didn't see in quite a while and haven't crossed paths with yet since she was here at the Hilltop... Michonne.
"Michonne." At the call of her name, the woman turned to face you; having just stepped outside the Barrington house. Once her brown eyes landed on you, a huge smile spread on her lips - one you couldn't help but to reciprocate. "Y/N, hey." She quickly crossed the distance separating you and gave you a careful hug - one that you reciprocated happily as well. "Hey," you greeted her back. "Long time no seen..." You felt her nod against you before she took a step back to retreat from the hug and face you again. "Way too long..." Then her eyes landed on the little bundle of joy strapped to your chest. Her smile even widened. "You and Daryl...?" You nodded. "Oh, uh, yeah. We expanded our little family. Had her barely a month ago... Her name is Ruby." "That's wonderful, Y/N. I'm happy for you two. I really am. How's Willa?" "She's great. Little whirlwind," you answered; smiling at the thought of your daughter. "How's Jude and RJ?" "Good. RJ is almost as tall as Judith by now," Michonne said, then added with the happiness visibly draining a little from her face: "Jude constantly asks for you and Daryl. Willa, too. She misses you."
You sighed; head lowering. "You could've come to Alexandria, too for Ruby's birth. We all would've been happy to see you." You nodded. "I know, Mich, I know. It's just... I think we came here because Daryl still isn't quite ready to return home. At least for a longer period of time. You get what I mean..." You didn't want to spell Rick's death out. You couldn't. Not in front of Michonne.
She nodded as well; eyes mirroring grief and sadness now. "Yes, I know. I can't blame Daryl for that. I never will. He's been out there all those years, looking for him." You reached out a hand to gently touch her arm in a sympathetic gesture. "And he still is. He won't stop looking. He can't."
"My mom walks with the dead 'cause that's what the dead do. It's their world and we have to live in it," Lydia stated firmly and tugged up the sleeve of her sweater to reveal the bruises on her arm. "And what my mom does, she does for a reason." Daryl had to suppress a scoff; hand gripping the aged steal of the cell bars the girl was caged behind. "Yer mom beats you 'cause she loves you? That's bullshit." Lydia merely shook her head; "No... It isn't." eyes trained on the archer. "When you stay soft, people die," she whispered almost threateningly and told Daryl what happened to her dad. How he died.
"You were just a little girl. It wasn't your fault." Lydia instantly shook her head at Daryl's actually reassuring words. "I was stupid. I deserved to die. But my dad was soft, and now he's the one that's dead." This time, Daryl couldn't prevent a disapproving, disbelieving huff from escaping his lips. "What was he supposed 't do? Just watch his little girl get bit?" "When you can't bend, you break. He broke." The man shook his head. "That's not true. We're makin' it better. We're building it back up. Changing it back." "Yeah?" Lydia whispered; a sarcastic tone swinging in her voice. "You don't belong with these people. Maybe you used to, but not anymore. You're hard, they're soft." Daryl leaned in closer to the bars. "You don't know shit about me," he spoke lowly - dangerously, and just when he wanted to speak up again, small steps suddenly cut through the tense air. Bare feet against stone. "Daddy?"
Daryl froze in all his movements for a moment before every parental instinct inside him took over. To get called 'daddy' by his very own flesh and blood had always been and would always be a privilege. Something he'd treasure until his last breath.
The archer gave his prisoner a warning glare before he turned to face his daughter. The hardness around his edges melted away like ice in the heat of Spring. Especially at the sight of his child.
Willa wore her blue pyjama onesie; stuffed animal her dad found for her back when she was a baby clutched tightly to her chest. Her long, slightly wavy hair - in a mix of yours and his hair color, hung rather messily over her small shoulders. One little hand rubbed her eyes - who looked suspiciously reddish and wet. The love Daryl felt rush through his body in this very moment was immeasurable.
"Willa," he spoke her name softly - tenderly, "Why are ya up, huh? 'S late. Whatcha doin' here?" and took a long stride forwards to get closer to her. Then he squatted down to be on eye-level with the small girl; facing her properly. "H-Had a nightmare," she whispered; visibly trying to suppress a sob. Daryl's heart threatened to break. If he could, he would - even in her dreams, hunt down anything and everything that only dared to threaten her to protect her. To make her feel safe. "'M sorry 'bout that, munchkin. You wanna talk about it?" To that question, the girl only shook her head; bottom lip trembling dangerously. "C'mere," the archer offered without hesitation and opened her arms for his daughter to seek comfort in. She did; short arms reaching around his neck to snuggle against him. Face buried in his shoulder. Daryl lifted her up then; arms securely wrapped around her - like a protective shield.
He just held her for a long moment; giving Willa the time to calm down again and just letting her feel that her father got her. That she was safe now with him.
Lydia watched the scenes unfold in front of her eyes rather... shocked and gobsmacked. The only side she got to know of Daryl was rough. Hard. Unforgiving. Cold. He didn't seem like a family man. "You... You're a father?" She caught herself asking; still in disbelief. The archer looked over his free shoulder to face the teenage girl again. "Told ya... You don't know anythin 'bout me," he almost growled and instantly redirected his attention back to his daughter. Lydia blinked; thoughts running wild inside her head, while Daryl pressed a lingering kiss against Willa's temple. "Where's yer mama, munchkin?" "Asleep," Willa mumbled in the leathery fabric of his signature angel-winged vest before she slightly lifted her head off his shoulder to look at him. "Didn't want to wake mama or my baby sister. You always say they need sleep."
Daryl had been sure his heart couldn't melt more - until now. His expression turned incredibly soft; a small smile gracing his chapped lips. "Tha's very thoughtful 'a ya, munchkin. 'N ya came to look fer me instead?" She nodded with a big yawn. Daryl's smile even widened. "C'mon. Let's getcha back to bed, yeah? Munchkin's need their sleep, too," he said and freed one hand to gently tickle her side - which made the seven-year-old squirm and giggle slightly. Before he rounded the corner to the stair, he turned to look at Lydia again. "We ain't done yet," the archer simply said and without another word made his way up the stone steps.
He carried his daughter back to the cosy trailer you shared as a family, stepped quietly inside - to not wake you and his newborn, and went to tuck Willa back in bed. Made sure she was warm, comfortable and safe. "'Kay... Try to sleep. 'M here now," Daryl whispered and leaned down to press a lingering kiss against the girl's forehead. He was about to leave the tiny room, when Willa held him back. "Daddy?" She whispered into the dark with a slight insecurity in her voice. "Yeah?" She shuffled underneath her blanket; trying to clutch the blanket closer. "C-Can you stay? Please?" Daryl melted all over again. How could he ever say no to her? "Sure, munchkin. I'll stay at least 'til yer asleep. Move over a lil'." The archer couldn't see the relief and happiness in his daughter's face, but he could feel it. After he had kicked off his boots and joined Willa in the actually way too small bed, she instantly cuddled against his side. He smiled as well; protectively tucking her against him. He stayed and cuddled her until he felt her relax and drift back off to sleep. After Daryl made sure that she was still properly tucked in, he grabbed his boots and quietly snuck out of the room.
His main destination was, of course, his very own bed. After yet another adventurous and kind of hard day, he was more than eager to get his very own cuddles. He loved being close to you. He needed to be close to you.
Daryl made two quick stops. The first one was Dog, who laid in his makeshift dog bed. He loved his animal best friend and squatted down to give him a well-deserved head scratch. "Hey, buddy, hey," he whispered, and the faithful canine gave an excited little squeak in return. "Did ya look out for yer ma and baby sisters while I was gone? Yeah, ya did. Good boy. Yer such a good dog." He petted the Malinois for another short while, before he straightened back up to let him get some sleep as well. Daryl's second stop - he got closer to his main destination, was the little crib which stood beside your side of the bed. Of course, he had to check in on his newborn daughter as well. Ruby was fast asleep; tiny fingers curled into fists. He just watched her for a long moment; smiling softly. Daryl fought the want to pick her up in his arms and carry her around for a while; just feeling her light weight and marvelling at how small she was compared to him. How soft and delicate. But he resisted; not wanting to wake her up.
Giving the miniature human a last loving look, he turned to finally go to bed himself. He made quick (but quiet) work taking off his boots, jeans, vest and shirt, before he slipped in bed underneath the covers beside you. His body was acting on its own will and instantly searched for physical contact; naturally. Daryl took you carefully in his arms; pressed his warm body against yours. Chest to back with one strong arm around your midsection to keep you close.
The archer's intention definitely was not to wake you up, but since you had Ruby, your sleep was lighter, and so you stirred. "'S jus' me. Sleep on, sunshine," Daryl whispered and pressed a chaste kiss to your neck; trying to save the situation. But the 'damage was done'. Your hand found his on your waist and you instinctively snuggled closer. He was warm. Always. Like a human heater. "Called it a day, babe?" You mumbled; still a little sleepy. "Mhm," he hummed behind you; hating that he woke you but also loving to talk to you. "Kinda had to. Willa looked fer me." You shifted and turned in his embrace to face him. "What?" He nodded. "Mhm. Had a nightmare 'n wanted to let you 'n Ruby sleep. So she looked for me." You huffed out a breath. "That girl is something else..." Your husband smiled - unbeknownst to you. "Well, she's ours, so..."
He wasn't wrong with that.
"Indeed, baby... But she's asleep now?" "Yah. Carried her back to bed 'n tucked her in." "Good. That's good." You paused and tucked your head underneath Daryl's chin; feeling him and enveloping yourself in his scent. Home. He didn't say a word either; fingers slowly, gently caressing the clothed skin of your smaller back.
"Any luck with Lydia?" The archer shook his head - a movement you felt. "Nah. Not really. Ain't know nothing new except the things she told Henry." he said; voice low but rough. "She'll talk eventually. Judging by all the things you told me so far, her life hadn't been easy. Her mother isn't easy. Give her some time - or just trust Henry with this." Daryl grumbled at your words and shook his head again. "Dunno if I should trust Henry with it. He's acting caring, yah, but so damn... headless 'n reckless, too. Tellin' her about our people and the Kingdom... He doesn't even know her." You couldn't suppress a small giggle. "Wha'? Ain't funny, darlin'. This group could be dangerous." "I know, I know, but...," you started and rubbed your hand over his naked shoulder blade. "Have you ever - just for a moment - considered that Henry is doing this for a reason?" He scoffed. "Which would be?" You bit your lip for a second; smiling. "Well... I think he's in love." "Love?" Your husband grumbled. "Nah."
You raised an eyebrow at him. "No? Never heard of love at first sight? 'Cause I think this is exactly what we got here. Besides, I know how a man in love looks, and..." You paused; burying your fingers in Daryl's lush curls. "... Henry positively looks like it." The archer melted into your touch; having to suppress a moan. "Yeah?" "Mhm. You should know, baby," you teased him a little. "After all, you wear that look everytime you look at me." He grunted and buried his head in your chest; mumbling something incomprehensable. You giggled softly and just held him against you; letting the man cuddle you. "Have some patience, Dar. Things will turn out just fine for us." His grip around you tightened a little. "Hope so," he whispered; trying to turn off his worrying, overthinking brain. No matter how things were going to turn out with Lydia and this new... group, his first priority was to make sure you and the kids were safe.
Summary: You are mid-mission with Steve Rogers performing scheduled reconnaissance in an old warehouse. The building suddenly collapses, leaving you both pressed against one another in a confined space. With your life on the line and time of the essence, there’s only one thing for it – you have to rail each other. (it’s the only way)
Contains: Quick and dirty action with plenty of unnecessary exposition. Nobody cares why they’re doing stuff, but I do. 😂
Words: 3,500
“English! Look out!”
A tsunami of sound crashed over you, concrete over rock, rubble on top of rubble, taking you a millisecond to realise the overwhelming sound was solid rock raining down on you. The sheets of concrete surrounded you and previously open space was now a wall of rock at your back. Somewhere in the melee the sound transformed from large rocks tumbling over concrete rubble to small stones pinging off metal. The small space was peppered with strained grunting. You blinked through the dust to see a figure in front of you, an arm reaching overhead holding his shield above you both. His free arm snaked around your back and pulled you forward into something solid. Something warm. The only thing you saw when the dust cleared was navy blue.
“You okay, English? Are you hurt?” His first responder muscle memory kicked in, barely giving you time to respond. “English, can you hear me? Do you feel pain anywhere?” His hand pressed against the back of your neck for injuries, hands in your dusty hair to check for blood on the back of your head. God he hoped he didn’t find blood....
You were fine. At least you thought so. Dazed, sure. But otherwise unscathed. One minute you were scanning a warehouse for intel, the next rubble was falling all around you, and now you were pressed against Steve Rogers who was treating you like the walking wounded. You glanced around the confined space. Your bodies had created a cocoon of concrete at your backs. Steve’s shield caused the rock to form a makeshift roof. You were in a cave of your own creation. Your protector continued to check you for injuries, his breathing rate slowing down when he found none. You regained your faculties when a strong hand rested gently on the side of your face.
“Hey.” His voice was deeper now. Softer.
“I’m okay, Steve. Really.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah...” You observed your surroundings and suddenly became aware of your palm pressed against his chest, your small, delicate hands a contrast to the dusty Kevlar fabric of his uniform. “Oh... sorry.” You jerked your hand away from him as though his stealth suit were a hot pan.
“S’okay.... not exactly much room in here.”
“Cap this is Sam.... come in, do you read me?” The crackle of the CommsLink stirred you both. Steve responded, updating the Falcon on your status. It was a rogue missile, Sam informed you both. But he knew exactly where you were. Rescue was coming.
“How long?” Steve asked, noticing the grimace on your face.
“Thirty minutes at least. An hour, tops.”
Steve nodded and verbally affirmed he understood. But he remained frowning, his eyes on your contorted face.
“It’s gonna be okay, English.”
“I know, I just.... confined spaces and all that.”
“I know. I know....”
The last thing you saw before you closed your eyes was his sympathetic expression. Behind your eyelids your mind conjured images of training. Tactical drills, physical challenges, gathering intel, resistance to interrogation, you name it, you had nailed it all. Crawling through pipes and claustrophobic concrete was the only chink in your armour. Steve remembered it as well as you did.
All you could do was wait and try to stay calm. If you didn’t, Steve’s sage words of wisdom would cut through the air, vague reassurances with obvious yet essential commands. “We gotta stay calm. Just breathe. You’re doing great.”
You wanted to avoid that if possible. Only a year out of training and a solid reputation behind you with the UK’s Ministry of Defence. You weren’t about to throw it all away for a panic attack in a cave.
You allowed your mind to wander to pass the time. It started with your senses, touch being the most obvious one. Your body was pressed up hard against Cap. There were women with less integrity than you who would kill to be in your position. Not that there was an ugly member of the Avengers. Being hot was an extra superpower, it seemed. Dazzle the enemy with your gorgeousity before striking them with lightning. But as far as handsome goes, the man pressed against you had clearly fell out of the genetic jackpot tree and hit every branch on the way down. The serum was obviously sorcery.
You clocked him immediately on your first day of training, muscular forearms crossed over a white t-shirt causing huge biceps to bulge. He was impossibly gorgeous. One of those men who looked almost cheesy in photographs, easy to mock and laugh about with your friends, but in person he knocked the air from your lungs. Angled jaw, perfect blond hair, broad shoulders set above a strong chest and a seriously slim waist. And he was tall. So tall. He also smelled great literally all the time, which didn’t help things. A simple, strong, expensive yet inoffensive cologne was incredibly on-brand and maddeningly distracting.
You hated how he affected you and you worked harder than everyone else to prove you weren’t just another airhead wanting a place on the team and a place next to the gorgeous living legend. That wasn’t you. But, you had eyes.
Bloodied hands, sweaty stealth suits and many nights crying over the stress of it all, and eventually it paid off. You were on the team. Barely a fortnight went by before a realisation hit you in the face – Steve Rogers was as good on the inside as he was on the outside. Sure, he was patient during training, encouraging yet fair, and he was driven by duty and purpose. That was obvious. It was the smaller moments you noticed most. Dropping to one knee and tying Natasha’s runners for her when she pulled her calf muscle and had to leave training early. Hugging Thor when he missed his brother. Brewing coffee for the team on a Sunday – cooking wasn’t his thing, he admitted, so it was the least he could do.
And the night he came back in the pouring rain, soaked to the skin from a run, verbal jabs already flying from you all as he squelched through the common area with jogging bottoms and a t-shirt that looked as though it had been painted onto his muscular body. Until you all noticed he was holding something in his arms. A black labrador puppy, just as wet as he was, Steve’s large arm having attempted and failed at shielding the stray from the rain.
“He was shaking by the dumpster out back, poor little guy!” His trademark compassion married with a boyish giddiness at finding a tiny new friend. He flinched slightly when he looked up and noticed your presence. You were new. You weren’t a trusted colleague yet. He felt as though you had just seen him naked.
You jumped up and fetched a towel to dry him and a blanket to lay on. The dog, that is, not the super soldier. Clint jogged to the fridge and fished out some fresh roasted chicken. And Thor slowly approached the little dog, the God’s eyes teary, as he declared, “We shall call him Loki.” It took the blond a week or two to accept the pup was in fact a dog and not his brother in animal form.
Yeah. Steve Rogers was an angel. And the more you saw the soft heart underneath his red, white and blue suit, the more lightheaded you felt in his presence. Gorgeous, compassionate and genuine with ironclad integrity. How were you supposed to resist that?
Allowing your mind to bathe in blissful memories killed a little time, though you were catapulted into the present by a sensation you simply could not ignore. It pressed into your hipbone. You cleared your throat.
“Steve?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re, erm... you’re hard.”
“I know.” He paused for a moment, then cleared his throat. “Sorry.”
He inhaled slowly through his nose, paused for four seconds, then let out a breath through taught lips. Box breathing. You learned it from him in training. After two minutes of breathing exercises, he regained his physical composure. Your hipbone wouldn’t bruise, it seemed.
“You know, it’s really okay... for what it’s worth, I felt a little worked up too. Any woman would be, pressed up against you.” You hoped your awkward chuckle and statement of truth would generalise your arousal. You were right – any woman would feel a certain way.
His pause was longer this time. “I know, English.”
A weight seemed to drop out of your stomach. You summoned all your courage and looked up at him. “What do you mean, you know?”
“Well, my err.....” he gestured vaguely to his mouth and nose. “My senses are dialled up to a hundred. You know, after the serum.” He looked down and met your eyes. “So I, err.... I can tell.”
“You can.... tell?”
“Yeah. I can, err...” He looked down, a light blush dusting his cheekbones. “I can, you know, smell you.”
Smell me??
Mercifully it was dark enough in that cave to disguise your own blushing. You feared the entire cavern would light up with the red beacon on your face. You swallowed. “You mean, because we’re so close right now. Right?”
Steve’s dramatic pauses persisted. “Not exactly.”
Oh God.
He knew, didn’t he. Every time. Every damn time you had been turned on by his mere presence, thinking you were embodying nonchalance and a stellar work ethic, he fucking knew. Your mind flashed like a slideshow with memories of thirsting over Steve, from initial training to nights in the tower to missions together. You couldn't stop yourself from making a sound of mortification. The groan didn’t stand a chance.
The cave fell silent. Then the chuckling started.
“Are you fucking laughing at me, Rogers??”
“No, no...” He covered his mouth and grinned, still chortling to himself.
“Oh, my God, you’re an asshole.....” You elbowed him, then mustered a Russian accent to quote your favourite hockey show. “Everyone must know this. Everybody, Steve Rogers is an asshole!”
“You and that goddamn show!”
“What? It’s hot!”
Steve shook his head, recalling the nights you and Natasha watched Heated Rivalry together. “No it isn’t. You’re hot.”
“What, no it’s - ” You stopped defending your show and looked him dead in the eyes. “Hang on, what did you say?”
His eyes roamed to your lips and back up again. “You heard me, English.” You weren’t imagining it, his voice had dropped a level. You swallowed hard.
Your hand found its way back to his chest. Your breathing quickened and you felt the seat of your underwear dampen. His lips parted. Your gazes were held together by invisible strings of honey, never leaving each other. Slowly, he tilted his head to one side, assessing the situation like a military operation, with one distinct difference. You felt his cock press into your hip once more.
“Steve....”
“We can’t.” He shook his head sadly, pressing his forehead against yours. “I’m sorry.”
“I know, we’re colleagues. I get it, I – ”
“No, we physically can’t - there isn’t enough room to swing a cat in here!”
You laughed and as your chuckles subsided he took your hand, which had been resting on his chest and he slid it up behind his neck, massaging at the tense muscles.
“So you’re saying it’s a challenge then.” You cocked your head and smirked. “What, you think I’m not up to it?”
He looked down at you, nostrils flared, and it was the last thing you saw before he grabbed the back of your neck and kissed you, hard and desperate. His body pressed into yours and he groaned into your mouth as he snaked a hand around your lower back to pull you even tighter against him. His body was firm and strong, that damn cologne invading your senses as he kissed the last scraps of sense from you.
Without warning Steve jerked his mouth from you and pressed his back into the wall. Satisfied, he pushed the wall behind you with his palms. “It won’t budge. We’re good.” As he talked, he reached his hand behind your ear and switched your CommsLink to ‘receive only’ mode. He clicked his own earpiece a milisecond later.
It was as close to an invitation as he would give, and it was enough to prompt you to scramble up the tangles of toppled concrete and find a foothold. You rested a hand on his shoulder and another on the rock as you got into position, bringing your hips level with his. He assisted by grabbing your ass and holding you in place. “You’re so fuckin’ good, baby.” He was horny and impressed by your ingenuity. Didn't get much better than that.
“Can you unzip your suit from here?”
You pressed both hands into his shoulders, needing to steady yourself. You look down at your black suit, covered in grey dust. “I dunno, I.... I need help...”
“Got it.” His fingers found your zipper and before he pulled down, he waited and whispered to you. “You sure this is okay?”
“I’m sure that if we don’t do this I’ll be salty about it forever.”
“Alright.... alright....”
His voice trailed off and his eyes smouldered, any scrap of the dutiful soldier gone. In its place, a man driven by pure need. He maintained eye contact as he unzipped your black tactical suit and slid it from your shoulders, leaving you exposed in your black underwear. He pulled the zip all the way down past your pubis. The backs of his hands brushed past the damp seat of your underwear. He felt shivers of pleasure roll over his shoulders and down his back.
You bit your lip as you eyed him hungrily. He was covered in dust and concrete, face filthy with evidence of his heroics. You scraped dramatically at the chest of his stealth suit, desperate for access to his skin. He smiled and shook his head. “Sorry baby. It won’t come off easy. I can unzip, though.” He stroked your cheek with a softness unfitting of fucking you senseless in a dusty cave. “Would that be okay? Hmm?” Your last braincell left your skull as he inserted a grimy thumb into your mouth and you sucked on it. “Ohh, baby. Such a good fuckin’ girl.”
You began fumbling with his leather tactical belt, muttering, “I can’t wait, Steve. I’m sorry, I can’t.” The hardening of his cock told you he didn’t object to his tactical belt hastily falling to the ground. As you unbuttoned his tactical pants and moved the stiff fabric to one side to access his zipper, he hoisted you up, both hands under your ass cheeks. You groaned as curtains of kevlar fabric parted to reveal a hard dick encased in tight black Calvins. “Ffffuck, Steve.....” You palmed his cock through the cotton.
“Move ‘em down.” When you tried and failed over the course of the next two seconds, he tore at the fabric to give you better access. You pulled the flap of cotton to one side and placed your hand around his perfect, long hard cock, stroking him from the base to the head. He squirmed under your touch as you teased the head with your thumb.
His eyes were blown wide, already out of it. He rested the weight of you on one palm and his bicep bulged under the pressure, as one strong hand moved your panties to the side. “This okay?” he asked breathlessly as he returned his hand underneath your arse and positioned you above his cock. Crumbled concrete crunched under your knees as you pushed them into the rock to steady yourself. You reached up and cupped the back of his head, his hair gritty with dust. “Please Steve, I need you....”
“I know, baby. I know....” He whispered so gently as he carefully lowered you down onto his hard shaft, coaxing a gasp from your throat. He cursed. It was too much, the combination of feeling your warmth around him and the sight of your mouth wide open, veins pulsing in your neck as you tilted your head back. His first thrust faltered as he felt you become even more wet. Two leather straps in front of your sightline stared at you and you grabbed them, using his shield holster as handles. The feeling of you tugging at him made him curse again. He took control, moving you up and down, hands under your ass, guiding you, thrusting you up and down as you held onto his leather straps, face buried into dusty navy blue.
He was big. Not offensively so. But he filled you so perfectly with each deliberate, firm, careful lower onto his shaft. You hung onto those two straps of leather as he controlled your movements.
“Steve, can you hear me? It’s Sam.”
“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ shitting me.” Steve’s voice was gruff, genuinely irritated by the interruption. You laughed and told him to ignore it. Instead he instructed you to be quiet and, when you struggled, advised you to clamp your mouth around his leather shield straps. You shot him an incredulous look as a dusty leather glove elevated to his ear. Click.
“Sam. I’m here.”
“We’re twenty minutes out from your location. Hang in there.”
“Got it.”
“Any injuries?”
“No. No, we’re err... we’re fine. Both of us.”
There was a pause from Sam. “...You sure?”
Steve faltered. “Y-yeah. Sure.”
His bicep began to twitch. Holding you up with one hand wasn’t easy, even with his enhanced strength. You helped him by getting a foothold near his hip, changing your position so you had one knee and one boot steading your slutty form straddled either side him. The new angle caused you to move further up his dick and slide past the head, making him hiss.
“Your breathing, Cap. The air....” Sam shouted instructions at Romanoff to ‘step on it.’ “Be there in 15. Hang in there. Over.”
“Received. Over.” Steve clicked his earpiece back to receive only. You removed your face from his chest, teeth long since parted with his holster, and cocked your head.
“Great, now they think we’re dying from lack of oxygen.”
He quirked his lips. “I’m dyin’ of somethin’.”
You spurted a laugh. “Come on, we only have 15 minutes.”
“Thanks for thinkin’ there’s a chance I’ll last that long....” He kissed you urgently, grabbing you by the arse again and sliding you back onto his dick. It forced a moan from you and he chuckled, but it felt every bit as divine to him too.
You maintained your position, your foothold giving you leverage and control as you grabbed his holster straps again and swung off them, grateful his suit came with a built-in sex swing. He growled, the sensation overwhelming him. You were climbing him like a tree in the limited space you had. And you were so tight around him, so hot, so wet....
“I always fuckin’ knew you’d feel this good honey, fuck....”
Your mouth covered his neck in wet kisses lacking finesse as the reality of the situation hit you. You were getting railed by Steve Rogers in a cave in a life-or-death situation which straddled your deepest phobia. He was covered in dust and grime and wearing his stealth suit, open just enough to give his cock enough room to fuck you. He smelled of sex, sweat and that damn collogne. Heat rose through your body and your climax raced through you, coming with a loud moan as you tilted your head back in ecstasy.
“Fffffffuck, Steve....”
“Yeah, yeah honey... oh fuckkkkkkk.....”
He spurted his release inside you, gripping your hips and holding you still as he came with an animalistic groan, his climax lasting longer than you expected, longer than was typical or normal. Of course. Even his orgasms were stronger than the average man.
His head flopped back against the wall, eyes closed, forehead sticky with sweat. You rested against his chest and he held you against him as your heartrates settled back into rhythm. Once he was sure you were okay – after asking several times and checking you over, he helped lower you back to the ground and zip you back up. He glanced down at his own state of undress and found a shred of fabric where his underwear used to be. His sigh melted into a light laugh and he ripped the remainder of the garment off and put the scraps of material in a pocket in his tactical pants. You found this hilarious. “Honey, just don’t,” he warned, though he smiled and his tone held no malice.
When he had zipped his dick up behind its Kevlar prison, he smoothed down your hair, thick with grit, and offered a soft smile. “You know, we should get trapped in a collapsed building more often.”
“It was hot, I’m not gonna lie.”
“It was so fuckin’ hot.” He kissed your forehead. You turned and noticed leather on the dusty ground. Neither of you could reach it.
“We might have to explain why your tactical belt is on the floor.”
“It got blown off during the blast.” His tone, suddenly serious and professional, made you laugh.
“Course it did.” You sighed. “And hey. At least I haven’t had a panic attack.” It was too late to take the words back. But the two of you were way past formalities.
You had less than ten minutes resting against Steve’s chest, with his hand on the back of your head and his soothing voice in your ear. Your earpieces buzzed with Sam’s voice announcing their arrival. You smiled at each other as you registers the sound of your teammates hard at work above you, freeing you from several meters of concrete.
Summary: Noticing how stressed your boyfriend is, you find the perfect way to help him release some... tension.
Warnings: MDNI 18+ SMUT (oral m receiving, teasing, thirst?), TikTok(?) trend, established relationship, fluff, humor, Josh being Josh
Word Count: 2,4k
a/n: First time I wrote Scud smut - please go easy on me. 🫣
masterlist
18+ content divider by @jiyascepter
You could see it in his eyes - even though he never intended to show it to you. The exhaustion. The stress. It was a lot lately and you knew it. Blade could be a relentless employer - that much was clear. Josh enjoyed to work for him nevertheless; tinker on new stuff all day. It was his thing. But sometimes things got a little much - even for Scud. And yesterday had been such a day. He came home very late, didn't even eat dinner and rather went straight to bed; sleeping like a log until half past ten.
Good thing it was Sunday, you thought; happy that your boyfriend could use this day to rest up properly.
Now, Joshua sat on the sofa in front of the TV - relaxing and just chilling out like you told him to. You on the other hand had just finished the laundry and now were pondering on how you could help him relax even further and relief some stress. He was still tense - you could tell.
Your partner's blue eyes flickered up to meet yours for a lingering moment as he noticed your presence. "Hiya, buttercup. You done with the laundry already?" You gave him a nod, "Yep, all done." and didn't waste any time to put your plan into action. "You joinin' me now?" Josh asked as he watched you move closer. "Kinda," you answered; reached for a pillow and threw it on the floor between Scud's manspread legs. He looked up at you; sceptical, confused, watching. An eyebrow of his was slightly arched.
Biting your lip in thought, you watched Scud from the hallway; laundry basket still in hand and hearing the voices from the television. A woman. Probably on the news. That's what it sounded like. She was reporting about some different things. You didn't pay her much attention - until the word 'trend' dropped. That was when you became alert. You didn't care that Josh switched channels and was now watching his comfort show - The Powerpuff Girls, because the light bulb in your head went off. That single word was all the 'inspiration' you had needed.
Smiling to yourself, you put the laundry basket away and made your way to the small but cosy living room - on a mission now...
You proceeded; tying your hair up into a ponytail - and kneeling down on the pillow between his legs. Your boyfriend's eyebrow arched higher as he watched you get comfortable for a moment. Then he shook his head; grinning. "Really, buttercup? You pullin' that silly trend on me? You know I know whatcha doin'. I sent you that reel, remember?" You nodded with a little smirk and adjusted the ponytail. But you didn't get as far as saying another word, since Scud leapfrogged you; adjusting his position on the sofa slightly as well. "A'right, c'mere. Turn around. I'm givin' you that massage. After all, you did the laundry all alone today 'cause of my tired ass."
Your smirk widened as you shook your head. Gotcha. "Nope." Now he was confused. "Nope?" "Nope. Don't want no massage. I want to flip the script. Give you what you deserve after working so hard and long yesterday," you explained. The palm of your hands came to rest on his thighs; rubbing softly and slowly up and down over the clothed skin.
Joshua blinked, then his slight confusion morphed into a boyish smirk. "That so, babygirl? You gonna play the uno reverse card 'n give Scud a bj?" "If you let me... Gladly." His smirk even widened; feeling himself twitch to life in anticipation at your words. He lifted a hand and gently cupped your cheek. "I could never say no to that sweet mouth and the temptin' stuff it can do," Josh said then; giving you his consent and shifted his hips a bit once more to get more comfortable - which included splaying his arms and hands over the backrest of the sofa as well. "Go 'head, buttercup. I letcha lick the lollipop."
Your brows furrowed in short confusion before you snorted out a giggle. "Did you really just quoted lyrics from 'Candyshop'?" Scud gave you a little shrug of his shoulders and a crooked grin in return. You shook your head; still smiling. "You're such a goofball," you stated and let your hands work on getting his sweatpants at least a little out of the way. "That's one reason why you love me," Joshua countered self-confident while lifting his bottom off of the piece of furniture to help you along.
Once his sweatpants hung low on his thighs - just enough to give you some space, you looked back up into your boyfriend's face with a smile. "True," you confirmed and redirected your focus downwards again. The only piece of fabric separating you from Josh's manliness was the pair of rather tightly cut boxer shorts - with Bugs Bunny on them. You bit your lip in order to suppress a giggle. Here you were, on your knees, hair tied up and ready to indulge into something straight up dirty - and a lot of Bugs Bunnies were staring back at you.
Shaking off that funny, ridiculous thought, you reached for the waistband of said boxers, "Sexy underwear, babe." but couldn't bite back a tease. Scud smirked once more and gave you a playful wink; being his goofy self as he helped you shimmy the piece of clothing over his hips as well to join his sweatpants.
Your eyes fell instantly on the prize - the desirable treasure between his legs. A small smile tugged at the corner of your mouth as you found him to be halfway ready for you. "Already excited, baby?" Joshua chuckled, "Caught in the act, Ma'am." and lifted his hands in surrender. "I mean... How could I not? The hottest chick in town - who I am lucky 'nough to call my girlfriend, is about to give me head. Of course gets the lil' Scudster all excited 'bout that." You couldn't suppress the giggle which demanded to slip past your lips, and shook your head. "Fair enough, Josh," you said, "Thanks for the compliment." and finally lowered your head to start peppering the tender skin of his thighs with kisses - all the way from where the waistbands of his boxers and sweatpants sat, up to the junctions where his legs met his pelvis - making sure to avoid his steadily hardening manhood, though.
You felt your boyfriend's muscles tense and even slightly twitch underneath your touch. You smirked against his skin. "You like that, baby?" Josh huffed out a breathless laugh. "'Course I do. Love when you tease me, buttercup. Makes it even more exciting." Smiling satisfied with your work so far, you continued to love on his skin; worshipping every square inch. His twitching even increased when you nipped and kissed the inside of his thighs; legs spreading instinctively wider for you to give you better access. You knew he loved when you did that. Especially since the skin there was way more sensitive the closer you got to his hot, throbbing center.
Once you were done worshipping this body part, you moved on to his stomach and pubic area, where soft, yet scarred skin met coarse, dark hair; leading in a trimmed line from his navel to the base of his length. Tongue darting out to lick and caress the skin, you tasted his musky scent; actions spurred on by the airy gasp which left your boyfriend's lips. "Damn... You really give me some good lovin' today, eh?" You nodded; eyes flickering up to meet his hazy blues clouded by lust. "Told you, babe. I'm giving you what you deserve. Nothing less. Gonna take my time and make this real good for you," you stated; peppering his scars with kisses. Josh chuckled softly; watching you. "Imma make sure I'm givin' this back to you, buttercup. Gonna dive head first between those pretty legs tonight."
Scud hissed. His fingers twitched against the fabric of the sofa, head lolling back again as the feeling of your warm, wet mouth on him unleashed the pleasure deep inside his body. Your eyes lifted to look up at him - watching his Adam's apple bob in his throat. What a delicious, sexy view. Smiling in satisfaction at your boyfriend's visible enjoyment, you continued your good work.
"Are you?" You said in a teasing voice; breath fanning over his steadily hardening length. Your boyfriend gasped again; muscles twitching - and your answer to his reaction was stucking out your tongue to give him a slow, teasing lick from base to tip. "Fuck yeah," Josh vocalised his pleasure; head rolling back into his neck - laying on the backrest of the sofa.
"That the answer to my question or just a reaction?" Scud lifted his head again to look at you. His blue irises were literally drowning in desire now. "Both. Definitively both." You giggled and pressed small kisses to the tip; feeling his pulsating arousal twitch under your caresses. "Like that, baby?" "Think you can feel I do, buttercup, shit." You smiled and took things a step further - the pleasure a notch higher as you closed your lips around him - just the tip, though; suckling leisurely.
A delicious, sexy view - that's what Scud thought a few minutes later as well. You had steadily built the pleasure for him; teasing and taking your time. Now, though, you were bobbing your head in a steady rhythm; trying to swallow him whole from time to time. The man's eyes were stuck on you; watching with his mouth agape and a hand in your tied back hair - guiding you.
Josh was as hard as a rock; ready to burst and snap any moment. He felt his balls twitch as he felt your hot breath fan over his straining arousal again. "'M close. Think I might not be able to hold back longer," he warned you in a slightly hoarse voice. You just smiled up at him. "That's okay, baby. I don't want you to hold back. Just cum...," you said; palms giving his muscly thighs a soft almost reassuring squeeze before your tongue traced his length from base to tip - causing a breathy moan to escape your boyfriend again. "...you deserve it," you added borderline seductively and returned to your previous occupation. Namely sucking him off.
"Fuck," Joshua cursed loudly behind gritted teeth as he felt your lips reach almost his base, before he gently but quickly helped you pull you off his dick so that you could properly breathe again. You needed the little break to get fresh air back into your lungs and Josh needed it, too. He had to get a grip again and control his pleasure; not wanting to come just yet. So now you were both panting and slightly out of breath - but with a smirk on your faces. You enjoyed this definitely equally.
He also took a moment to just take everything in. The way your hands digged deliciously in the flesh of his thighs. Your slightly disheveled state. There was saliva and arousal everywhere. On his dick - obviously. Your lips and chin. His stomach. Hell, probably even on the sofa as well. Needless to say: The more you gave him, the messier it got.
Josh's hands gripped the fabric of the sofa even tighter; trying to just hold on to something as he got driven closer and closer to the edge by your wet, hot mouth. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," cursed Scud quietly under his breath, before he got quiet - jaw dropped in a silent moan. All that could be heard was the TV in the background and the obscene wet noises of your mouth around his swollen shaft. It was downright filthy.
To make things even better for Josh - knowing that he was very close now, you lifted one palm from his thigh to let it wander between his legs as well; carefully cupping his balls. One, slow caress of your thumb over the sensitive, delicate skin there in combination with a moan you allowed to slip your lips with your mouth full of him in order to show him how much you were enjoying this as well, was enough to tip him over the edge; knowing how much he loved to feel and hear it when you enjoyed giving him pleasure. You felt your boyfriend's hand in your hair again - and that was the official sign.
"Gonna cum, s-shit," he stuttered out and tapped your head; trying to gently pry you off of him. You didn't let him, though. You knew he wanted to be a 'gentleman' and not just come down your throat without asking and making sure it's okay - and you absolutely appreciated this. You loved him for being so consensual and thoughtful, but today... Today you'd give him the full experience.
All inclusive.
Instead of letting him go, you took him an inch deeper - and that marked the end of his 'restraint'. His hand slackened in your hair, and with a cute little whimper, you felt him explode on your tongue. The muscle underneath your hand twitched. You gently guided Josh through his high and made sure to clean him up before taking your mouth off his softening manhood - not wanting to overstimulate him.
Scud was taking deep breaths above you; trying to come back down to earth. "Holy cow, buttercup... That was smokin' hot." You smiled up at him; giggling and massaging his thighs gently again. "Yeah? You liked it? Good." The man scoffed. "Liked it? Hell, I think that was the best fuckin' blowjob you ever gave me," he stated - drop-dead serious, while his soft fingers caressed your cheek and tucked a strand which had escaped your ponytail back behind your ear. "Thanks for that. Didn't know how much I needed it."
Your smile brightened; hands working on his Bugs Bunny boxers to get them back into place. "You feel relaxed now, baby?" "Hell to the yeah." His sweatpants followed. "And now get up here. Let me kiss ya."
Summary: When Daryl doesn't show up for lunch, you instantly start to worry. What if something happenend to the father of your baby?
Set in Season 11 - episode 14 'The Rotten Core'
Warnings: usual TWD stuff, angst, pregnancy things, established relationship, Sebastian Milton, fluff! a suggestive comment
Word Count: 3,1k
a/n: This is probably one of my favourite stories I wrote this year so far. 🤗
Love In The Rearview Mirror °☆• EoH Masterlist °☆• Daryl Masterlist
Your fingers fumbled nervously with the silvery metallic band around your ring finger. The self made 'wedding' ring Daryl gifted you almost three years back - a symbol of your love and 'marriage'. The seat across from you at the small diner was still empty. You actually wanted to meet up with your husband after his shift but he didn't show up yet - which was very unusual and not Daryl-like. Five minutes too late, sure - but not almost an hour... It gave you major anxiety and worries; fearing that something might've happened to him.
The fear coursing through your veins did not only affect you... The subtle movement inside your belly and the repeated kicks against your abdominal wall was enough for you to know that the tiny growing human inside you felt their mama's turmoil.
Absentmindedly, you ran a hand over your prominent baby bump. "I know, sweetie, I know. I'm sorry, I just... I worry about your daddy," you whispered; talking to the yet unborn child.
Taking a deep breath, you gazed around the diner again. People came and left - but no Daryl. Shit. You had to look for him. Getting up from the both slowly, you went to exit the diner and waddle your way to the not very far police department.
Just as you started to climb the few steps to the main entrance, a soldier stepped out; helmet in hands. When he saw you, he stopped and gave you a once-over, before a smug smirk darted across his face. You were aware of his presence and looked up - but not noticed the look on his face. You were too worried; too tangled up in thoughts and what-ifs.
Did he just try to hit on you? Ew.
"Hello? Uh, sorry, could you possibly help me?" The strange man's smirk even widened as you addressed him. Casually, he leaned against the door. "Well, hello there. Helping you? Depends..." You blinked; hands on the small of your back to support your body in carrying the extra weight which was your almost due baby. "Depends? On what?" "On what you're... offering me in return." You were utterly confused. "Offering you in return? Sir, you're a Commonwealth soldier. Helping people is a big part of your job, no?"
A small chuckle left the soldier's lips. "Yes, but... I've actually just started my break, so... Help ain't for free now, gorgeous. But for a little something, I can do anything for you." You grimaced at the nickname he gave you.
"No, I won't keep you from your break. I'm just gonna ask Mercer then," you declined his... offer and moved to step past him. But the soldier blocked your way; now clearly pissed that you didn't agree to play his little game. "No, you can't. Mercer doesn't have time for you at the moment. He's got other things to do. Come back later," he said; voice cool and borderline threatening.
If you wouldn't have been pregnant, you wouldn't have just let that happen and would definitely have confronted him - but the health of your baby was a top priority. So, you gave in, turned around and waddled away - next destination clear. Carol. She kinda worked for - or well, with Hornsby and probably had more 'authority'. She could help you and get you to Mercer - one-hundred per cent.
Luckily, you found her rather quickly. She just exited the bakery she worked in; seemingly just done with her shift.
"Carol!" You called out; attracting her attention. The woman gave you a smile and made her way towards you - but that smile instantly vanished again when she saw the worried and distraught look on your face. "Y/N, what's wrong?" "I-I can't find Daryl. We were supposed to meet up for lunch at the diner over an hour ago but he didn't show up. You know that's not like him. I-I'm afraid something happened to him," you explained her; trying desperately to keep your emotions in check. "I-I tried to talk to Mercer but they didn't let me. Said he had other things to do."
"How can I help you?" The - admittedly kind but intimidating soldier asked; brown eyes flickering over your pregnant self. "I-I was supposed to meet Daryl almost one and a half hours ago. He never showed up. I-I'm worried something happened to him. I-I'm his-" "Wife, I know," Mercer finished the sentence for you while already reaching for his walkie talkie. "Vickers sent him and Espinosa on patrol in Sector D this morning," Mercer explained and pressed a button on the small device. "Dixon? Do you copy?"
Carol nodded; was visibly alerted as well. You were right... This wasn't like Daryl. "I'll get you to Mercer, c'mon. We're going to find Daryl, okay?" She tried to reassure you - and kinda herself; placing a gentle hand on your upper arm. You nodded; one palm absentmindedly cradling your unborn baby.
Together, you went back to the police department of the Commonwealth. You knew Carol would be your 'secret weapon'. She got you inside and no five minutes later, you were standing in Mercer's office; talking to the man.
No answer. Just static hissing.
Said and done. Mercer knew exactly which buttons to press and what levers to pull. No twenty minutes later, you were standing on a beautiful meadow, surrounded by trees and flowers - and a ton of walkers to your feet. "They are down there? In that house?" You asked Mercer; making sure you got this right. He nodded, "Apparently they are, yes." and turned to the two soldiers he had brought along - not the two assholes which brought Daryl and Rosita in this situation, though. "We go in there and get them. You two stay with her. Make sure she's safe," Michael gestured at you, then looked at Carol. "Let's gut up and go."
"Dixon?" Mercer tried again, then switched. "Espinosa? Do you copy?" Nothing as well. This wasn't a good sign, right? Certainly not. You felt the fear pierce you deeper; heart speeding up further. The baby inside you kicked up a storm; unsettled and probably worried about their mama. You knew this wasn't good but you couldn't help it. The love of your life was in possible danger. You couldn't stay calm.
You swallowed hard and exchanged a worried look first with Carol, then looked back at Mercer. "We'll find them. Don't worry," he said; clipping the walkie talkie back to his armor and stood up. "What are we going to do now?" Carol asked. Mercer looked at her. You could see in his actually very serious and stoic face that he didn't like this situation as well. Two of his soldiers missing. "We're going to talk to the right people."
Whatever or whoever made Daryl and Rosita go there, your gut feeling told you they didn't do it of their own free will. You were sure of it.
You wanted to jump in. You wanted to go with Mercer and Carol, but you knew it was for the best to stay here. This far along in the pregnancy, you were no help but rather another one they would have to look out for. You had to trust Carol and Mercer on this - and you did. You just hoped it wasn't too late.
Staying behind with the two soldiers, your gaze was strictly directed on the sea of walkers Carol and Mercer disappeared into.
Time passed. You didn't know how much, but enough to get you antsier with every passing minute. You wanted to do something. Help. "Shouldn't they be back by now?" You asked the two soldiers standing behind you; looking over your shoulder. "It's a big horde. We should give them more time," answered one of them. You sighed; eyes directed up front again - but that nagging feeling of fear and worry didn't leave you. "W-We should help them." "No," the other man said immediately. "We are told to stay here. So we'll stay until Mercer says otherwise."
You turned fully around to face them; tears brimming your eyes. "B-But I can't just watch. M-My husband is down there. My friends. I-I gotta help." The seemingly nicer soldier took a step closer to you. "I know you're worried, ma'am, but I need you to calm down and especially stay here. Our order is to protect you, so that is what we're going to do." The other one nodded in agreement. "We'll stay here. End of discussion."
As fast as your pregnant legs carried you, you moved fast to meet him. You even tried to run, but couldn't. "Daryl!" Your call of his name attracted the archer's attention instantly. His eyes snapped to you; seeing you almost trip over your own feet to get faster to him, he threw the bag he carried and his weapon aside. He didn't give a damn about this right now and sped up to run over to you. "Careful, sunshine, damnit," he rasped; hands instantly finding their way to your hips to steady you. You didn't care either in this moment, though, and almost threw yourself into his arms - screw the grime and guts he was covered in. "D-Daryl," you sobbed; emotions finally crashing down on you. "'M here, sweetheart. 'S all good, 'm here," Daryl whispered in that deep, soothing voice and tucked your head against his chest; resting his chin on top of your head. The man hugged you as close as possible with the quite big roundness of your stomach; not caring about the others in that moment. You obviously needed him.
You took a deep breath, closed your eyes for a long moment and nodded in defeat. You knew they were right and you hated it. Out of instinct, your hands found their way around your baby bump again; feeling the unsettled movements of your baby. You ran your thumbs over the clothed skin in the hopes of somehow calm down yourself and the unborn child, of course. "Ma'am, are you alright?" "Y-Yes, just... worried and stressed. Baby feels my anxiety." He nodded stoically, but you could see in his eyes that they held compassion and sympathy for you.
You let your eyelids slip shut again and focused on your breathing - calm and steady, in and out. You repeated this over and over again - until one of the men you were with spoke up again. "Ma'am..." You reopened your eyes to look at the soldier. He jutted his head behind you, so you turned around - and what you saw caused a wave of sheer relief and happiness to swoop through your entire body. Mercer, Carol, Rosita - and Daryl approached you in short distance. "O-Oh my gosh, Daryl..." You breathed and couldn't hold yourself back.
"I-I was so worried, baby. Y-You didn't show up for lunch a-and I couldn't f-find you, I-" you sobbed. Daryl pulled back to look at you. "I know, 'm sorry. Didn't mean 't jus' disappear on ya." You knew that. You knew him. "W-What happened? W-Why were you down there?" The archer wanted to answer but another voice cut through the air. "Dixon."
Mercer.
Your husband pressed a firm kiss against your forehead. "'M gonna explain later, 'kay? Go home with Carol where ya 'r safe." "B-But-" He knew you would complain and he could understand. "Please, sunshine. I'll join ya as fast as I can. Need 't get this done. Jus' hafta know ya are safe." His gaze shortly flickers to his growing offspring in your womb. "Both 'a ya." You inhaled deeply, but nodded and gave in. "'Kay." Daryl gave you a nod and reluctantly let go of you to join Mercer and Rosita. Carol and the two soldiers took you back to the Commonwealth. Carol even stayed with you until Daryl returned - best friend's orders.
"Ya okay?" Daryl asked in a soft but low voice. You nodded and turned your head to look at him. "Now I am." The archer squeezed your shoulders with the arm he had wrapped around you and pulled you even closer against him; lips pressing to your temple. "'M sorry. I didn't want ya 't worry. Never. I jus'... I had to do this." "Do what, baby? What was in that house? Who forced you and Ro to go in there?" You asked slightly concerned and placed a hand on his thigh; giving the muscle a reassuring little squeeze.
Like promised, Daryl came home only about twenty minutes later. After taking a quick shower to get rid of all the walker guts, blood, sweat and grime, he thanked his best friend and let her go home as well.
Then, finally, he joined you on the sofa and instantly pulled you against his side; providing warmth and closeness. It was exactly what you needed. Like balm for your soul. He was safe, here with you - with his family.
You were speechless. Stunned. Angry.
Your husband grunted; visibly annoyed and kinda frustrated by the things that happened. "Tha' little rich prick." Your brows furrowed. "Sebastian Milton?" "Yeah... His mother cut off his cashflow so he needed money. In that house lived 'nother rich prick 'fore the world went to shit. Had money in a safe." "So he sent you two in there, past the walkers to get that stupid money," you connected the dots and saw Daryl nod. "What an asshole." The archer nodded again. "'S not jus' tha', though. He had sent several people in there 'fore us. Promised them new chances 'n things they wanted. Got 'em all killed. Found tha' woman trapped inside the room in which tha' damn safe was. She told us but didn't make it."
You swallowed hard; tears threatening to spill from your eyes. "Shit..." You felt sorry for all the people who had to die just because Sebastian wanted some extra cash - and hatred for this man. "What... What did he promise you and Rosita?" You questioned quietly then; "Nothin'. He threatened us." eyes widening. "T-Threatened?" Daryl gave you another short nod. "'S why we had 't do it. Threatened our kids... Coco, RJ, Judith... The one inside ya 'n with tha' you as well."
"Baby was worried, too, you know..." You mumbled after a moment of silence in which you just cuddled; hands still intertwined. You felt Daryl's body stiffening at your words. "Wha'?" He more or less croaked out, and you nodded. "Y-Yeah... Baby felt my nervosity and anxiety. Could feel how unsettled they were; constantly moving and kicking."
"Next time I see that asshole, I can't promise that I won't beat the crap out of this little shit. Nobody messes with my family," you hissed; muscles tightening - but Daryl was quick to get you off your... high horse. He shook his head; hand cupping yours. The one which rested on his thigh. "Nah, ya ain't. Yer carryin' our kid, baby mama. Remeber? No fights for ya. Won't getcha anywhere 'sides behind bars. Dun want tha'. Need ya both safe. I get tha' ya want to do this, but... It won't change a damn thing. We clear?"
You huffed and grumbled under your breath but nodded; giving in. He was right and you knew it. "Yeah, 'kay. Fine." "Good girl," Daryl muttered and pressed yet another kiss against your temple. Feeling the touch of his lips on your skin, you turned your head once more and offered him your lips. It was an slightly awkward angle but neither you nor the archer cared. Your lips found each other's anyway; meeting in a lingering kiss full of love.
The archer lowered his head in guilt - something you didn't catch. "Fuck... 'M sorry, sunshine," he mumbled and shifted; moving both his arms to cup your swollen stomach which held his unborn child - big palms framing the bump. "I didn't mean 't endanger ya o-or the baby. Should've found 'nother way outta this, I-" You shook your head and instantly moved; turned your body around and swung a leg over his knees to straddle his lap and face him. "Baby, no. I need you to stop right here," you said in a firm voice and brought up your hands to cup his cheeks; feeling his stubble slightly scratch your skin. "Gosh, I- Shit, sorry. It wasn't my intention that you start to blame yourself for this. I just wanted to tell you how we felt. This isn't your fault, okay? It's Sebastian's fault. He caused this. He did. Not you. There wouldn't have been another way - probably besides killing him but that would've gotten you into even bigger problems, so... You did that right. You did what you had to do. Through that, you kept us all safe. Okay?"
Your words needed a moment to get fully registered by Daryl's rather stubborn brain. You could still detect the guilt swimming in his blue eyes - but then he nodded; chewing on the inside of his bottom lip. "'Kay." You gave him a soft smile. "Sebastian will get what he deserves someday. For sacrificing so many innocent people for something stupid like a bit of extra cash - and for all the other shady things only God knows he did."
Your husband nodded but swallowed hard. "I did things, too. Ya know tha'. Prolly worse things than this lil' prick..." "Yes, I know. Me too. But the difference is you - we, did those things out of commitment to our family. To protect what we love. Sebastian did this only for himself. Out of egoism. Big difference, my love."
Daryl was nibbling on his lip again and just looked at you for a long moment, until... "I love ya," he whispered. "I love ya so much." The soft smile on your lips widened. "I love you so much, too, Dar," you said in a loving voice and dipped your head to kiss him; hands falling to rest on his chest. Daryl's hands wandered as well. From resting loosely beside his thighs to gently cupping your hips and trying to pull you closer - which wasn't quite possible due to the baby bump between you.
You couldn't help but giggle; forgetting sometimes how sensitive he could be for 'simple' things like that. "And that would be bad why...?" The archer scoffed; blushing. Damnit, woman...
You felt that, of course, but just compensated this by continuing to kiss him leisurely; changing the angle from time to time. For you, it was 'just' a declaration of love, but for Daryl...
After a long moment, he pulled back slightly to end the kiss; lips parting with a soft but audible pop. "Darlin'," he started; panting slightly and squeezing your hips. "If ya keep on kissin' me like tha', 'm gonna get a fuckin' boner like sum teenage boy."
'one look and they'll know' collection masterlist
See my full list of works here!
Placement: parents era; first half in late 2025, second half in early 2026
Summary: A long-running bit about you being "well connected" much deservedly backfires on one of your husband's costars when his wife calls you out of the blue to help confirm her suspicions
Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader
Word Count: 5.4k (prep a drink)
Warning/s: language (like a good amount of cuss words); Reader's pregnant in the first half; probably contextually inaccurate usage of an Aussie term; Chris Evans (yeah…he's a warning in this series); talks about infidelity (not Tom, never him); the slightest hint of violence (and also some talks of wanting to dish out violence); some suggestive steamy stuff at the end [let me know if i missed anything!]
Things to be aware of: if you're a fan of Evans, he is not a good guy in this series (this is your second chance to click off); Tom in his protective cinnamon roll husband era; Hemsworth POV in the 2nd section of the story; baby Lulu makes an appearance after the second divider; mention/s of Taylor & Travis
October 2025
It was the middle of the day when your phone rang, the loud notes echoing and filling your study, displaying an unknown number. You let out a whiny groan, only having laid down on the day bed a few minutes ago to take a nap, not even making a move to sit up on the edge of the bed quite yet as you brought the phone to your ear.
"Hello?" you spoke, the syllables slurring together as you fought your way out of falling asleep.
"Uhm, hi." The voice at the other end belonged to a woman. She sniffled before taking a deep shaking breath and speaking again. "Is this Y/N Hiddleston?"
"Yeah. Yeah it is. May I ask who's calling?"
"Ohh, right." She sniffled again; and you could recognize the audible pattern of a woman crying. You already dreaded where the conversation was going without even knowing who had called you yet. "My name's Alba. We met a few years ago at an event for Marvel?"
Oh, fuck, you thought to yourself. You pressed the heel of your hand to your forehead, already feeling the oncoming headache. It was at that moment that Tom appeared at the doorway of your joint study, making a motion to ask you who you was calling.
"Right, right. Alba…Evans' wife, right?"
"Yup." She sniffled again, sounding like she'd just choked back a sob. "Yeah that's me. Uhh I'm really sorry did I call at a bad time? I'm not really that good with timezones and--"
"No no, it's fine, really. It's more my own body clock than the timezones. Second trimester and all."
"Been there," she said dryly. "You started missing sushi yet?"
"Sweetie I've been missing sushi since I found out in April." She let out a chuckle on her end, but something about it sounded wrong. When you met her she'd had a rather infectious laugh, kind of lilty and melodic, even. This was just…hoarse. Like her throat was scraped beyond belief and she was forcing the sound out anyway. "But I have a feeling you didn't call to compare notes on pregnancy cravings."
"No," she confessed, a touch of defeat in her tone. "No I didn't, I'm so sorry." More sniffles. "Uhm, I was told you were someone I could call if I wanted information on people quickly? That you were well-connected?"
"Yeah, I am," you confirmed. Your husband made his way over to you, offering you his hand so you could stand up and walk over to your desk. "What do you need to know?"
Tom took a paper from your memo pad, scribbling down a question. What's going on?
He handed you the pen and you scrawled your answer. I don't know yet, but whatever it is, it's nothing good
"I've been getting these messages and reading all these blinds and I need to know if there's any truth to them," she started, tearing up toward the end. "That my husband might be…damn it I can't even say it. That Chris might not be…entirely loyal right now?"
Your hand clenched tight around your phone, holding it away from you while you mouthed 'Fuck!' soundlessly. You wrote down on the paper again. Evans might have cheated on his wife.
He tensed as he stood up straight, starting to pace around the room.
"I am so sorry, Alba. No one deserves to have to go through this," you said slowly, taking deep breaths while you waited for your machine to power up. "I'm gonna put you on speakerphone for a bit while I reach out to my contacts, is that okay?"
"Yup, yeah sure that's fine," she said in a rush. "Your contact, are they gonna take long to get back to you? I could just call back later, maybe?"
"Won't take long at all. For what it's worth, I hope they're all wrong," you reassured her. Considering that the whole 'Y/N is well-connected' bit was simply a red herring to put some more degrees of separation between you and your 'other life' as Evangeline, finding the answer to her question took next to no time.
A quick look at the actor's phone activity and location tracking all but painted a red neon sign to what exactly he'd been up to these past few weeks. Actually, what he was currently up to. And hacking into the CCTV footage of nearby establishments had you borderline hysterical you were halfway tempted to take screenshots and send them out to any and every tabloid that wanted them.
"Dammit," you hissed. As soon as she heard you, she began to cry harder on the other end. "Sweetie, I am so so sorry."
"So it's true," she said, her voice getting louder. "Fucking hell, what am I gonna do? I only just had my daughter. I can't leave her here to live with him just because he keeps saying he's always wanted kids more than I did. I mean what if he brings home an absolute cunt that despises babies?"
"Do you want to stay?"
"I'm sorry, what?"
"If you're going to make life altering decisions, you're gonna need to start asking yourself every possible question. Even the ones that sound stupid on paper. Starting with do you want to stay?"
"N…No! God I can't do that to myself. I can't do that to my daughter. I can't have her grow up in a world where she even remotely thinks it's okay to stay with a fucking cheater."
"Okay, you've got your lines drawn, that's good. Did you sign a prenup?"
"No…No we didn't."
"Okay, that either means he never planned to do something like this, which doesn't fucking matter. That or he was arrogant enough to think you'd never be able to walk away even if he put you through some warped humiliation ritual like this. That's good, that means this is gonna hit him completely out of left field. File for divorce and sight infidelity as your reason. None of that irreconcilable differences bullshit."
"That document will become public record, though. People are gonna talk and so many of them already hate my fucking guts because I was a stupid kid." Maybe it was your maternal side starting to kick in due to being pregnant with your own daughter, but you felt a dull ache in your heart over how genuinely concerned she sounded.
You knew full well what having a small but vocal portion of the online world hate you felt like, and it made you feel uniquely equipped to help her navigate this change her life was about to take.
"It will be. And you're right. People will talk," you told her, opting not to soften the blow. "But the right people will see the situation for what it is, and maybe you won't have their undying love and support, but you'll have their respect. File the papers, take your daughter, and go home. Be with your family."
"He's not gonna just take this sitting down. He'll fight this."
"I'm sure he will. But my contact will reach out to you, send over everything they found today that will systematically prove your claim. They'll also get in touch with a good divorce attorney that can help you get out of this with at least half his money. And a sizable bit of child support. Breathe, Sweetie. You won't be facing this alone."
She sounded so overcome with emotion when she spoke again. "Thank you."
"And hey listen, if you need someone to talk to, I'm here. I might not be in that kind of situation anymore but…there was a time when I was. And I faced it virtually alone." The next moment, Tom stopped furiously typing on his phone and made his way over to you, wordlessly taking your hands in his. "I wouldn't wish that on anyone, so if you find yourself needing to--I don't know, maybe go into lurid detail on a revenge fantasy, or just cry your heart out with no judgment? Just call. It's okay."
The two of you exchanged your goodbyes and ended the call, your husband moving to stand behind your chair and soothingly rubbing your shoulders as you compiled the evidence you'd collected in your brief phone call. Once you'd anonymized the source enough times that not a soul -- not even your 'blood brother' in this murky seedy online underbelly Grey -- could trace this investigation back to you, you sent the info Alba's way from a throwaway account.
Tom helped you up to stand, keeping his arm around you as he walked with you from the study to your bedroom. "Just so we're clear," you spoke up once you were seated on the edge of your bed. "You try any shit like that, they won't even find your body."
He gave you a tender smile, pressing his lips to yours. "I know, goddess."
"Not even your skeleton, I got really good at disposing bodies in my time." You couldn't hold back the giggle when he framed your face in his large hands and kept at kissing you, unfazed by your words.
"Wouldn't even dream of it," he told you, laying you down on your side of the bed and pulling the blanket over you. He crouched down to be eye level with you and stroked your hair. "The only time I'm going to be out of that hospital room is when I go and get you sushi. There's nowhere I'd rather be."
"I was really hoping that he was just in some warped disorientation phase and he'd get over it," you mumbled, letting out a deep sigh and turning to your side. "Such a disappointment."
"What do you mean?"
"A few years ago he hit on me, asked me if our relationship was 'open'. We weren't married yet, but he was. And when I told him exactly that, he just said 'So? My wife shouldn't mind'. Shouldn't. Not won't. Like he knows that the actions would hurt her, but he's confident that it's not gonna be enough for her to even do anything about it. Like she's stuck with him because he's holding something over her head or something."
Your husband's expression hardened, his jaw tense as he processed the words. "And what did you tell him?"
"I said that to some level, I can understand that there's a part of him protesting over the change that's coming into his life, since he's got to hang up his ways of the fuckboy because he swore vows. But if he knows what's good for him, and if he's actually serious about wanting to build that family that he's been talking about ad nauseam for the better part of a decade, then he's gonna reel it in and actually be a decent loyal guy because that's the least that his family deserves."
"Guess he didn't listen to you. Now look where he's headed," he said dryly. He pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Get some sleep, sweetheart. I'll wake you in a few hours."
"M'kay," you mumbled, hearing him let out a soft chuckle when you couldn't hold back a yawn. "I love you."
After the exchange you just had leaving you feeling cold, relief washed over you when you could feel your body warming when your husband pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose. "And I love you." And then another kiss to your growing belly. "Both of you."
The group chat that housed majority of the primary actors in the MCU was rarely ever active, save for the occasional barrage of "Welcome" messages when someone knew was brought in. Chris knew this much when the group name popped up on his phone after a few months of complete inactivity, so his mind immediately went to Oh, someone new must have been added.
Another thing that Chris knew was that Tom rarely -- never, really -- initiated those messages. And that was his first clue that this wasn't a regular message.
His next clue was that Tom was quite direct with his opening message into whatever this whole group was about to be witness to. He even went and mentioned someone directly.
T. Hiddleston: Evans, what in God's name were you thinking?
C. Hemsworth: Whoa hey, what am I missing?
C. Evans: I don't know what you're talking about, Tom.
T. Hiddleston: Please spare me the bullshit. Your wife called mine in complete hysterics. She literally just gave birth to your daughter a few days ago and you're out picking up college girls?!
R. Downey Jr.: Dude, what the fuck. Nasty work. I'm judging you. By the way Tom, how's Y/N?
T. Hiddleston: Pregnant and furious, but still radiant. I can't even explain.
B. Larson: Evans, that's just gross. You keep talking about wanting a family and the second you have it, you chuck it out like it's nothing?
C. Evans: I'm not throwing shit away, I love my wife
T. Hiddleston: Obviously not enough to want to be loyal. God, when we all heard you say you wanted multiple children, I never thought you'd mean by different mothers.
E. Olsen: Careful Tom, your wife's sarcasm is rubbing off on you. Actually wait no, don't be careful, it suits you. Also Evans, the actual fuck. Sleaze ball behavior.
C. Hemsworth: Hang on I'm on the phone with Y/N now, she's reading me in. Apparently he also hit on her a few years ago back when he first got married.
S. Johansson: Ohh so he's a bigger idiot than advertised, then.
T. Hiddleston: Pray that when we see each other I won't dislocate your jaw for that, by the way. And for the record? We have not and will never be "Open".
C. Hemsworth: Same goes for me, Evans. This is my baby sister we're talking about. Also she said if you ever ask her anything like that again, she's breaking your ring finger so it swells and you'll have to get your hokey wedding ring sawed off.
T. Hiddleston: You're still on the phone with Y/N now?
C. Hemsworth: Yes and she was talking about how much she missed energy drinks and sushi before Elsa took the phone from me so they could talk about what else she has to avoid for the next few months.
S. Johansson: Been there. I'm sending a case of Alani Nu your way when your baby's born, Tom. Send her my love.
T. Hiddleston: Will do. Now if you'll all excuse me, I'm going to go make my wife some tea and confiscate her phone, she's supposed to be taking a nap.
Just as Chris clicked off the chat, a new text message popped up on his phone, and he failed to resist the urge to roll his eyes seeing that it was from none other than the cheating soon-to-be former husband and father. The other Chris. Venting.
Okay, the whole "Y/N's well-connected" schtick we all had was fun and useful back then when those contacts helped us to find out who was leaking set production details, but this is serious. Do you know who it is? Her contacts? I mean, everyone has a price right? These hackers are fucking with my marriage.
Not even bothering to type out a response, Chris tapped on the microphone symbol on his phone and sent out a voice note.
"Okay firstly? Whoever Y/N's contacts might be, they're not the ones that ruined your marriage, you root rat. You did that all on your own when you chose to step out and throw away the family you've told us time and time again you're excited to start. Secondly, I don't have any idea who the contact is, but I"m pretty sure they're not in this for the money. Your future ex-wife was lucky enough to get someone that's just in it for the love of the game. I hope she wins. And I hope she gets sole custody. And thirdly, being a husband and a father isn't something you're owed just because you want it, it's a privilege, something that you earn because someone trusted you enough to want to build a life with you, and you wasted it. You're vile, mate."
Late February 2026
"Sorry, you want what?" Tom spoke into the phone. On the other end was Mike Flanagan, calling him about an opportunity to perform his dance from The Life of Chuck once again. On a stage. At the Oscars.
"I know it's the epitome of 'last minute', Tom. Really, I get it. But they said a spot opened up last minute and they would love if you could fly to LA and perform the dance as a special number."
At that exact moment, you walked into the study, cradling Eloise in your arms. You jerked your head at the phone, wordlessly asking him who was on the other end and he scribbled the name on a paper.
"Now, here's the other thing about this performance," Mike spoke up again, the phone now on speaker mode. "I called up Annalise and turns out she won't be able to make it. She's off in Italy with a prior engagement. Is it possible to get Y/N on the line?"
"Hey Mike, I'm here," you quipped, keeping your tone low so as to not wake your daughter as you placed her in your husband's arms. "What's up?"
"Long story short, a slot opened up at the Oscars and they want Tom to dance as Chuck Krantz, and Annalise can't make it. If your husband says yes, my next question would be…if you would be willing to do the routine with him?"
You sucked in air through your teeth, already assessing your physical ability to move about, thinking through the logistics of it all since now you had to consider how to go about the whole routine while nursing Eloise. "Mike, buddy…I literally just birthed a whole human being a few weeks ago. That's a massive ask."
"I know, I know." He sounded a touch mortified even asking them, so you at least gave him that. "I want you both to know that this is absolutely something that you can say no to. No hard feelings, I know you're both navigating life as first-time parents and--"
"You know what, what the fuck, I'm in," you cut him off, a shocked sound coming from both the director on the other line and your husband seated not even two feet away from you.
"Are you sure, sweetheart?" He adjusted his grip to hold Lulu in one arm so he could reach over and place his free hand on your knee. "I don't want you to over exert yourself."
"Yeah, I'm positive," you told him. "I've been working out the logistics in my head and it's completely doable. You know the dance, I know the dance, we can practice while Eloise is sleeping throughout the day, and in a few weeks the three of us can fly over to LA. And if for some reason I can't find a babysitter willing to sign an NDA so they don't tweet or vlog about looking after her? I know a tall leggy blonde that lives in the area and loves kids, no NDA needed."
A brilliant smile spread across your husband's face, and he grabbed your hand to bring it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "I adore that brain of yours, my love."
You scrunched your nose at him, a similar smile stretched across your face as you mouthed to him, 'I know'.
"Well in that case, I guess I'll see you in a few weeks. Take care, you two."
It took a bit of doing, but after a couple weeks of rehearsing the routine in your home gym at least three times a day -- only derailed on the day that Doctor Samson gave you the all-clear for certain bedroom activities -- you and your husband found yourselves standing on the Oscars stage, The Pocket Queen starting that all too familiar beat that you both knew in your bones, at this point.
You were able to just stand backstage for a good minute and just appreciate how your husband moved on stage with such grace and precision, matching every step with the beat like it was second nature to him.
Right as the performance started, your phone had begun to blow up with multiple messages from both Taylor and her fiance Travis, both wishing you luck as well as sending photos of them looking after your daughter. There was even a comical message from your years-long friend telling you she had to be careful because spending time with Lulu might give her future husband a bad case of baby fever.
You put your phone down as the stage manager motioned to you to take your place on stage. You walked out, sure to keep your face just out of the camera's view and stood with your back facing the audience. Straining your ears a touch, you could hear some of the seated actors vaguely recognizing you.
And then there was a distinct "Ohh fuck yeah, let's go" from Downey. And then you heard Suki and her partner Rob exclaim, "Ohh my God it's Y/N" right as you hit the shoulder shimmy on PQ's four-count beat.
Once you executed the spin that twirled your skirt in a cute little flourish, your face was fully revealed to the camera, and you could hear a mix of excited applause and a collection of groans throughout the attendees. You didn't need to wonder why they had that particular reaction; some people in the industry still acted quite viscerally every time they were reminded that Tom was married.
You met your husband's eyes, the mischievous twinkle in his gaze matching your own, as he step-danced his way to you, holding out his hands as he spoke close to the microphone situated by PQ's setup. "May I have this dance, wife?"
He chose to go a touch off-script, and you loved him all the more for it. You didn't think either of you would be able to get through it with a straight face if he stuck to the "little sister" line. You placed your hands in his, speaking close to the mic as well. "You may, husband."
Tom pressed a kiss to your knuckles before leading you to the center of the vast stage, and you went through the remainder of the performance without a hitch. When you reached the bit in the routine where Chuck would abruptly stop due to getting a sudden migraine, he chose to instead ad lib another moment between you two where he pulled you into his arms before dipping you, placing a soft kiss to your lips.
"I'm so glad I got to do this with you," he murmured against your lips. "I love you so much."
"And I love you," you murmured back, smiling into the kiss as he righted you back up on your feet before heading right back into the routine, not missing a single drum beat.
When the number was finished, you stood hand in hand, taking in the applause. You could see from where you stood that some of the actors you'd worked with before, Rob and Downey included, had stood up, clapping harder than the rest.
"Okay now I can see why you love the stage, sweetie," you told Tom with a smile. You both received a cue to make your exit, and you walked hand in hand with your husband toward the lefthand curtains.
"Considering another career change, then, goddess?"
"Ohh fuck no," you answered him with a laugh. "I'll only ever say yes if it's with you. That's my hard rule."
Tom playfully insisted on helping you change back into your gown for the night, pressing soft kisses to your cheek and neck as he did your zipper up before you walked back into the hectic backstage area hand in hand. There you bumped into a few of your husband's costars.
Downey and his wife Susan, who applauded and pulled you both into a hug as soon as they saw you. And then once you walked past them…you saw Evans. Walking arm in arm with Alba. Looking the picture of marital bliss, wedding rings still gleaming on both their fingers. Well, at least she looked the part. He looked like he'd rather be in the pits of Tartarus.
"Stellar dancing," he told you both, the slightest remnant of a smug smirk tugging on the corner of his mouth. "From both of you." He held out his hand toward your husband, putting on a show of good faith. "No hard feelings, right? I mean we all get our wires crossed, get things wrong every now and then?"
Your husband was tense as he stood still, refusing the gesture. "Asking my wife if we were in an open relationship isn't exactly what I'd call getting your wires crossed."
Evans took his hand back, making a whole show of shifting his stance over to face you before presenting it again. "Look Y/N, I'm sorry about that ugliness from before. Life was changing real fast for me and my feet got a bit chilly, you understand, right?"
You tried to mask the sneer that instinctively pulled at your mouth with a halfhearted smile. "Not really, never been there before. But I can see why some people could find it a struggle."
He squinted his eyes at you, probably mentally smacking you clean across the mouth, before plastering on the fakest possible smile he could muster. "You know what, I probably deserved that." He stretched out his hand a bit more, his arm muscles visibly strained even through his tuxedo jacket. "But what d'you say? Misunderstanding?"
You raised a single eyebrow his way, before giving the same look to his wife. You could see even from that fleeting glance that there was a tinge of regret in her wide eyes. Almost apologetic, even.
Like she was silently telling you I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough.
And it took everything you had in you not to react. Not to step in and tell her that this wasn't her fault. Not to directly intervene.
"Sure," you told Evans through gritted teeth. "Must have been a misunderstanding. Shit happens, right?"
You chose to shake his hand, and the Boston actor made the mistake of trying to put some extra pressure into the handshake with his thumb, attempting to cause you some discomfort. "Good to know we can all stay friends, then."
"Of course." Your smile didn't falter as you shifted your grip, mirroring his botched attempt at an intimidation tactic and applying pressure from your end as well. He broke the handshake, making it seem like static electricity got the better of him, and you visibly wiped your palm down the side of your dress. "You all have a good night."
As you and Tom walked away, you could hear the philandering husband whining and moaning, murmuring about how "that bitch broke my finger". You could also hear Downey stepping in to your defense, insisting that he didn't believe any part of you was built to be able to deal damage like that without anyone seeing.
"Wait…sweetheart, did you actually do something to his hand?" your husband asked you when you got far enough away, making your way around the outside of the theater so you could return to your seats.
"Maybe," you answered him, throwing a somewhat guilty look his way. "Sprained his ring finger. Probably gonna swell." He didn't bother to hold back his laughter, putting his arm around you and pulling you to his side as you walked in near perfect sync towards the theater's front doors. "What? Bitch had it coming, he was trying to do the same to me."
That was enough to stop him in his tracks, the soles of his shoes audibly scuffing on the concrete before he reached for your hand, his whole body tensing as he inspected every square inch of skin only to find the slightest trace of a bruise steadily forming on the space between your thumb and forefinger. "I'm going to break his jaw."
"Careful, sweetie, you're starting to sound a little too much like me." You took his hand in yours, pressing a kiss to his wedding band. "I'm okay, and eventually one day he'll get what's coming to him. Now whether it's by nature finally taking its course or it's because he finally pissed me off enough that I decide to have a direct hand in it, time will tell. Now come on, let's just get back to our seats."
He held you a touch closer to him as you started walking again, a stronger air of protectiveness coming from him that had your heart melting. "I just don't understand. The information you gave her was more than enough to get her a good deal in a divorce."
"Guess she changed her mind," you sighed. "I mean, I can give her all the information and connections. And from what I saw, she even got as far as filing the actual divorce papers. But ultimately the decision to follow through is hers alone. And much as I feel bad for her, short of me directly intervening, I can't make those choices for her."
You made a mental check of how much longer the ceremony proper was as you walked through the main doors of the theater. The usher guided you through the lobby and pointed out which doors you should walk through next.
Before you reached the next doors, though, Tom led you down into one of the narrower side halls, your back pressed against the wall, his hands placed on either side of your head, loosely trapping you in the tight space. "Sweetie, what're you doing?" Your question came out in a swooning exhale, your heartbeat kicking up several notches from the vision of him towering over you.
He only responded by taking his hand to cup the side of your face, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb before he leaned down to give you a soft kiss. It had you damn near melting where you stood. Especially since you could feel with every brush of his lips the sheer restraint he was using to not take things further in such a public setting. Not with all the press and paparazzi a literal stone's throw away the second you step into a main corridor.
"What time did you mention we were picking up Eloise?" he asked you when he broke the kiss. Your mind wasn't quite all there yet, what with Tom still tracing the raised embroidered patterns of the bodice of your dress with his fingers.
"Told Taylor I'd stop by after the afterparty. Why?"
"I was wondering…perhaps we could forego the afterparty?" he whispered the question into your skin, lips ghosting along your jawline and up the shell of your ear before lightly nipping at the sensitive skin.
"Ohh…" you breathed out. "And what do you suggest we do instead?"
He pressed a featherlight kiss to your ear before he said in a low voice, "I was thinking we go back to our suite, and you still change into that exquisite dress you have saved for later tonight." He then moved to press his lips to the base of your throat, softly moaning against your skin as he wrapped his arm around you, pressing you against him. "Purely so I could peel it off of you. And we could have our own private afterparty."
Your husband kissed his way up your neck, smiling against your skin before he pressed his lips to yours. Knowing he'd suggested just enough that it painted a vivid picture in your mind just how the rest of the night would go if he could have it his way.
And he most definitely would.
"What do you say, Mrs. Hiddleston?"
You brought your arms up to his shoulders, crossing your hands behind his neck to pull him into another kiss before you gave him your answer. "I say…I love the way you think, Mr. Hiddleston."
A/N: Hello hello 👋 I'm on a four-day weekend thanks to Holy Week, and I'm determined to knock some stuff off my todo list. Hopefully one of them is getting some stuff off of my queue for The Gallery, but time will tell. Maybe I'll finish another item off of my 129301823 WIPs.
So…yeah…Evans is now in this series and he's a sleaze. I read some stuff late last year about him behaving almost beat for beat the way I wrote in the first part of the story. So that's why this chapter was written. And then the Feb 2026 stuff came in the last few weeks after I saw the Oscars. 🙃
Summary: Predator or prey. The world as a professional assassin could be dark. It was always do or die - except with you and Daniel Pine... With him, it was fuck or die.
Warnings: MDNI! 18+! SMUT (teasing, jerking off, p in v (wrap it, guys), reader is on birth control, rough sex, panties getting ripped, sub!Reader, dom!Daniel, tied up hands, missionary - kinda, manhandling, doggy - kinda, almost passing out - kind of), enemies with benefits, mentions of weapons and the usual John Wick stuff, tension, heated conversations, bickering (hope that's the right word, lol), alcohol, being observed/watched - not in a stalking way, rather in a serial killer way if that makes sense
Word Count: 3,9k
a/n: Weeell... This just kinda happened. I wanted to write something for Daniel and this is the result. Apparently, I was yet again possessed by a smut demon... I apologise for possible inaccuracies. 🫣
A huge shout out goes out to @angelwings-crossbowstrings . Murda gave me so many advice on how to write this and helped me with the title. Thank you, sweets. 🫶🏻 Also, I hope it's okay that I used your gif for this. I couldn't find any other. 🙈
MDNI divider & divider by @jiyascepter | gif by @angelwings-crossbowstrings <3
masterlist
Prague - a city you didn't step foot in for quite a while. It's been how long? Two years? Three? You didn't know, but quickly realised that not really much had changed. Especially not in the Continental hotel.
The sun was about to set when you checked in and took the elevator up to your room. You were here for business. Of course, you were. Like most of the guests in this... field. But business could wait until tomorrow, you thought, checking on your weapons.
After a well-deserved shower, you made your way back downstairs again. Your destination being the bar for a drink. The flight had been long, just like the day. So, you deserved this. Nevertheless was there one thing which disturbed your... 'peace'. The constant feeling of being watched. You already felt it on your way to the hotel. During the check in, the elevator ride, now at the bar - and even as you took a shower. There was a pair of eyes on you without a doubt. But you could tell that it was a familiar pair of eyes. You played that little game before - quite a few times actually.
You smirked and lifted the glass in front of you to your lips and took a sip. I can't see you, but I know you're there.
When the Martini was empty, the bar keeper took the empty glass away - and placed another Martini in front of you. "I didn't order another one, Sir." The man behind the counter smiled. "I know, Miss, but the gentleman in room number 314 bought you another one." "I see. Thanks." He gave you a nod and continued his work. You breathed out a laugh and shook your head. He wasn't as subtle as usual.
After downing your second Martini, you decided to call it a night and returned to your room - even though you knew you probably wouldn't get any sleep. At least not yet.
You opened the door to your room and stepped in; switching on the lights. The first thing you saw was the familiar silhouette of a man sitting on your couch with a glass of Whiskey in hand - and you weren't even surprised. It wasn't the first time this smug bastard did that either. Sneak into your room. His back was to you, but you'd recognise him from every angle...
Daniel Pine.
You had known him for years. Every time your paths crossed, he had tried to kill you. Emphasis on tried. It wasn't that he lacked skills or wasn't smart enough - oh no, but so far, these... confrontations always ended different. Practically, you were enemies, and yet...
"You're getting soft on me now, Pine?" you said; taking off your high heels. He scoffed; not even turning to face you. "What makes you think that, beautiful?" "You're buying me drinks now." He shook his head, scoffed again and took a sip of his self poured Whiskey - obviously from the alcohol stash in your room. "Nah. I just thought you could use another one. Been a long day, right?"
Now you were the one who scoffed. "You should really switch your tactic. I could already feel your eyes on me as I sat into that damn taxi. You're getting predictable, Pine," you said and stepped closer; rounding the fancy leather sofa to face him. "Leave that up to me, beautiful. You don't even know half of what I am capable of." You snorted out a small laugh, "Oh yeah?" and started to unzip your dress; shimmying out of it elegantly - leaving you in nothing but lacey black underwear and matching black stockings. Oh, and the knife attached to the garters. "What is it this time then? Are you here to finally accomplish your mission and kill me - or is this going to end how it always does?"
Daniel chuckled darkly, downed the rest of his Whiskey and stood up; coming to stand directly in front of you. "Your choice, beautiful," he rasped; blue, hungry eyes roaming your barely covered body. "I don't care if we blow or fuck our brains out. Both works for me." You smiled, then bit your lip and reached out your hands to playfully tug at the belt around his hips. "Oh, you know what I choose. What I always choose..."
The man smirked; big palms cupping your hips. "The latter it is then," Daniel spoke lowly and lowered his head to crush his lips against yours in an open-mouthed kiss. Your eyes fluttered shut at the feel of those tempting lips. The reminder of the sexy things those lips could do caused a hot shiver to run down your spine. His hands wandered; dipped past the fabric of your panties to grab two handfuls of your ass.
You hated to admit it, but you had missed his touch. The danger. The sex. Shit...
His borderline obscene kisses swallowed every little whimper and moan you made; the tension thick in the air. With a smirk and a wet pop he denied you another kiss; pulling back. "You're a desperate little thing, you know that? Got nobody else for your pleasure?" You grumbled low in your throat. Gosh, you really hated him. You hated that you loved what he could do to you.
"Plenty, in fact," you whispered dangerously; planning on getting back at him with this - admittedly - white lie. "Oh yeah? But not one of these men can give you what I can, right?" You smirked; fingers slowly working to unbuckle the belt of his black suit trousers. "Jealous, Pine?" "No. Just stating facts, beautiful," he shot back instantly.
You laughed - right into his face.
"Facts, tz... You're the one who always comes back to me. Not the other way round," you stated as you unzipped the zipper of his pants torturously slow, before your skilled fingers slid past the elastic waistband of his black boxers.
But before you were even able to touch what you desired was one hand of his firmly wrapped around your wrist; the other still gripping your ass. You gasped softly as he stopped you; not having anticipated this. "Careful, beautiful," Daniel rasped darkly. "Choose your words wisely and be mindful what you wish for." His blue eyes held lust but also danger as they locked with yours. "I told you before... Your bounty or your pussy - I don't care. Both is good."
You would've lied if you said this didn't turn you on even more... The danger. The risk. It was exciting.
You smiled and stood on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. "Vice versa." Daniel's reaction was not a surprising one. A scoff left his lips. "That so, beautiful? I doubt it. Given your decision every time our paths cross, you need my dick more than my bounty," he stated; giving your left buttock a firm squeeze. You giggled; knowing that you could say the same to him, but decided not to. Starting yet another 'argument' wasn't the point of this. Sex was.
"Are you going to keep on running your mouth, or..." Since your wrist was still in his grip, you used your knee to what you had in mind; lifting it to press it against his crotch - not to hurt him but to put some pressure on his most sensitive body part. It caused his breath to stutter at the unexpected contact. "... are you finally going to show me again what this dick can do?" The man growled lowly in his throat. He knew exactly which buttons to press - but so did you.
He swiftly switched the position of his hand again. Suddenly was the one which groped your ass wrapped around the thigh of the leg which was pressed against him. Your knee was no longer rubbing his crotch, but pressed against his hip. Before you were able to react, had Daniel shoved his knee between your thighs.
How the tables have turned...
"Someone's asking to not being able to walk after we're finished here," he smirked and put a little more pressure on which caused you to gasp; fingers twitching. "Thought so..." Not knowing how to help yourself out of this... 'situation' differently, you placed your free hand on the back of his neck and dragged him down into another searing hot kiss.
You were done talking.
Daniel melted against the tempting kiss, of course; the grip on you loosening. Lips collided, teeth clashed and tongues fought for the upper hand. It was messy and fucking hot. After you were done with marking his lips, you pulled back entirely and left him standing in front of the sofa as you made your way gracefully over to the bed; throwing your knife carelessly on the ground and making sure to swing your hips, of course.
The man watched you as you laid down, got comfortable and waited. Your eyes were on him; taking in the slightly disheveled and sexy state he was in. Lips bruised and swollen from the kiss. Long, brown hair untamed. Blue eyes hungry and wild. His pants undone and therefore hanging lower on his hips. That in turn gave you a delicious little sneak peek of what was hidden underneath all the layers; his boxers stretched a little - the bulge mostly hidden still but undeniably there.
The man raised an eyebrow at you. "What, you're just gonna lay there and look pretty?" You smiled and seductively stretched your barely covered limbs like a cat. "I am a pillow princess, yes. I love men who put in all the work. You should know that by now, Daniel." Daniel scoffed but smirked; shrugging off his suit jacket.
"That's one way to put it, princess," he said and threw the item of clothing carelessly on the sofa behind him. "I'd rather say you love your men dominant and... dangerous." His weapon followed. The black top he was wearing underneath showed off his strong arms and bulging biceps. Hot. You shrugged your shoulders, "If you say so, Daniel." then licked your lips with a seductive smile. "As long as you can live up to my expectations..." You couldn't help yourself but to tease him.
The man scoffed and kicked off his shoes; biceps flexing slightly as he swiftly pulled the black belt he wore through the loops of his pants. Hot - again. "You know damn well I can. Like I said...," he pulled down his black pants and stepped out of them. His lower half was only covered by his boxers - which left nothing to imagine. "...think I'm the only one who can give you what you need." You swallowed; eyes stuck on the prize as an exciting shiver ran through your body and culminated in your core.
Nevertheless, you masked your excitement; knowing the verbal war wasn't over. You wanted him to dominate you, yes - but you wouldn't give in that easily. Your pride didn't allow it. And you weren't afraid of him. Not even in the slightest. He could kill you within seconds - you could kill him within seconds. You were equals.
"What? Got nothing more to say, princess? Cat got your tongue?" Daniel spoke up again; standing now right in front of the bed - knees inches away from hitting the edge of the mattress. You shot him a death glare - but your image wavered as you noticed what his hands were doing. One held the black belt tightly in its fist and the other... You swallowed again; your core throbbing in arousal. The other was shoven inside his underwear; the movements of his wrist unmistakable. It was clear what he was doing.
Fuck.
And Daniel? He noticed. Of course, that fucker did. A malicious little smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "You like that, don't you. Watching me jerk off." He chuckled and shook his head. "Didn't know you were that filthy."
You scoffed and managed to peel your eyes away to send him another glare. "Don't act like you wouldn't enjoy watching me do the same," you stated and smirked; lunging out for another verbal blow. "After all, you watched me showering earlier, didn't you?"
The man's jaw clenched; hand stopping in its movements. "Nah, I didn't. I was in this room - but I didn't lay my eyes on you," he almost spat and dangerously stepped closer again - like a predator approached its prey. "I may be a lotta things, princess..." Daniel bent over. The belt landed on the bed beside you. Skilled hands wrapped around the back of your knees and pulled you effortlessly to the edge of the bed. It happened so quick, you couldn't even react. "...but I am a man of honour. I have respect. I'm no pervert."
He threw your legs over his shoulders and tugged his boxers down - just enough to free his throbbing length. The elastic band and his balls kept the unnecessary fabric out of the way. A sexy, dangerous glint was in his blue eyes, "Rude from you to accuse me of that." and without hesitation, he ripped your gorgeous black lace panties in half to grant him access; turning the fabric into shreds.
You gasped; stunned, a little appalled - and incredibly turned on. "You fucker! Are you insane?! What are you doing?!" The man above you smirked and reached for the black leather belt again. "Nah." Daniel shook his head. "I'm giving you what you want - and need," he rasped and jutted his head at you. "And now be a good girl and give me your hands."
You had to suppress a whimper. You had pushed him. Further and further - and now you had awoken the animal inside him. This was going to have consequences - sexy ones, and you were more than ready to pay that bill. But no matter what, you'd go out as the winner - as always. You clearly won the verbal fight - after making him cave, and were going to get what you wanted as well.
So, you gave yourself into this delicious submission and obliged; being only his good girl and gave Daniel your hands. His fingers worked quickly; skillfully tieing you up with his belt. Then he bent over. Your legs were folded; knees pushed back. His large palm gripped your tied wrists and held them down against the mattress above your head. The other supported his weight; fist forming a little pit in the duvet. His hot arousal was pressed against yours. All Daniel had to do was shift his hips. He had you entirely pinned down; completely at his mercy - and you enjoyed every second.
Your breath came out in quick shallow puffs; pupils blown wide in pleasure. "That's what you wanted, isn't it?" The assassin rasped in a husky voice; rubbing his tip through your wetness. You squirmed a little - everytime he hit that sensitive little nub. You were already so emerged in pleasure, that you didn't register his question right away.
But the his grip around your tied wrists tightened to borderline painfully. "Answer me, princess." You nodded quickly. "Y-Yes, yes, Daniel. God, please... Give me w-what I chose." Another dangerous, dominant smile darted across his face. "Of course, I will give you what you want. But first..." He shifted his hips again; making his tip catch your entrance. You suppressed a moan. "What's your safeword, beautiful?" Daniel whispered; causing another hot shiver to run down your spine. He was here for a fuck or a kill - not to hurt you.
Do or die.
"Dar al-Bayda," you replied; telling him the safeword. Dar al-Bayda - also known as Casablanca. The largest city in Morocco. It was the location where your paths first crossed quite a few years back.
"Good girl," Daniel praised you again - and buried himself to the hilt inside your warmth with one sharp thrust which literally knocked the air out of you and left you breathless; jaw dropping in a muted moan. He didn't gave you time to adjust. Nuh.Uh. He instantly set a sharp, quick pace; splitting you open for him - and you gladly let him.
The terms never changed. No other man could fuck you as good as Daniel could.
Skin slapped against skin as the man looked down at you; seeing your face contort in pleasure. "Missed that dick, huh?" He rasped; delivering another delicious thrust against that one spot which made you see stars. Your back arched and a broken moan slipped past your lips. It was answer enough for the man. He chuckled deeply. "Thought so."
Daniel kept up his rhythm as long as his stamina allowed and catapulted you twice over the edge. But even a trained assassin needed a break, so he stopped the roll of his hips and straightened up; letting go of your tied up wrists in the process. Sweat dotted his forehead, which made some of his brown curls stuck to the skin there, but he couldn't care less. Your legs were like jelly and without his securing grip, you weren't able to keep them up on his shoulders. They slid down - and you had just enough power in them left to prevent a too hard impact on the marble floor. That movement also caused Daniel to slip out of you again, which you commented with a soft whimper. Feeling a little sore but already missing the stretch. It felt empty without him.
Daniel took a moment to take a few deep breaths; admiring the mess he already made of you. Satisfied. Proudly. His break gave you the chance to recover a tiny bit as well; getting your head cleared - but you weren't done. You wanted more. You needed more. So instead of being grateful this break was granted to you, you decided to poke the sleeping bear again.
You lifted your eyes to look at the assassin; seeing his glistening biceps and the sweat stains on his black top. You licked your lips, then smiled. "Tired already, Pine? Did I already wear you out, or what?" His dark, wide blown orbs snapped to meet yours on an instant. There it was again... The danger. The dominance. The pleasure. Lurking inside those blue eyes.
Daniel scoffed, "I already ruined you twice and you still want more?" and chuckled. "Greedy woman... You really should be careful what you wish for. I meant it," he said; voice dropping an octave lower. "You still want more?" He took a step closer again, "Fine." and quickly grabbed you again; manhandling you easily in the position he desired. Suddenly you were on your stomach. His arm wrapped underneath your hips and pulled your knees up, while the other hand pressed down your back. You could feel the muscles in his arm work - in combination with the fact that he was manhandling you so easily, was it nothing but a turn on.
You were a Kikimora. Handling men was a walk in the park for you - except Daniel, as it seemed.
Now you were face down, ass up, hands still tied and Daniel towering above you once again - more than ready to absolutely rail you into oblivion. And that was exactly what he did. You had asked for it and you received - more than you anticipated. The position. The angle. His technique and pace. The way he hit those delicious spots every damn time over and over and over again. It was no wonder that your knees just gave out at some point; eyes rolling into the back of your head. His arm was the only thing which held you up. The rest of you was floating somewhere beyond the clouds. You were sure he had catapulted you into another stratosphere. You didn't even notice the words he said. How his rhythm faltered. Or how he was finishing inside you. Good thing you were on birth control.
Daniel left you nothing but ruined, marked - and utterly satisfied.
You clearly needed a moment to come back down to yourself - back down to earth. The man's low chuckle was the first thing your brain truly registered again. "Now you're really speechless. Rare thing to see, princess... You not running your mouth for once. Truly fucked your brains out, huh?" Then you felt his warm touch on your wrists; untieing the belt and freeing your hands.
You blinked. "Fuck," was all you could muster; brain still a little hazy. It caused Daniel to chuckle once more. Only then did you realise that you were on your back again; laying comfortably on the bed. The second thing you became aware of was that sticky, slightly uncomfortable and stinging feeling between your legs. Grimacing, you sat up slowly and maneuvered your worn out body forwards until your legs dangled over the edge of the bed. Then you took in the truly absolute mess. You were a mess, the sheets beneath you were a mess... Your orbs flickered over the man standing in front of you with another glass of Whiskey in hands. Eyes widening in surprise, you saw that Daniel was a mess too. Well, parts of him.
"See the mess ya made, princess?" He asked with a borderline bragging, satisfied smirk on his lips, took a sip of the alcohol and gestured at his black boxers, which rested snugly over his hips and crotch again and the hem of his top. Both pieces of clothing were damp; almost wetted with stains. Stains that weren't sweat.
It took your brain a second to connect the dots. But then your eyes widened even further. "Did I...?" Daniel nodded; smirking smugly. "Was real hot, beautiful." "Fuck," you muttered oncd again - kinda overwhelmed and surprised. The assassin across from you chuckled, "Indeed." and downed the rest of his alcoholic drink.
But then another thought hit you. Daniel was part of the mess...
"You fucker didn't pull out. What if I wouldn't be on birth control, huh?" You grumbled and stood up - on slightly wobbly legs. The man just shrugged his shoulders as he slipped inside his pants and shoes again; sliding the belt through the loops and fastening it. "You are, so what's the problem? You asked for this. All of it - like you always do," he stated firmly and took a step closer to you. "Besides, I thought leaving you a little present to remember me is a nice gesture. And now be the good girl I know you can be when you want and stop whining. Take what I give you - or we might have to end this tonight."
That son of a...
You glared at him; hating that you loved his dangerous dominance. So, you played his game; getting back at him with words instead. "I always take what you give me, Daniel. I can handle me a dangerous man - but the real question is... How long can you handle me?" Daniel chuckled darkly once more, slipped in his suit jacket and stowed away his gun, before he came to stand directly in front of you again. "As long as you'll be that desperate for me, beautiful," he whispered and gave you a wink, "I'll see you again." before he turned and walked towards the door to your hotel room; exiting it.
You were too stunned to answer, so you just watched him go. "Asshole," you mumbled under your breath; making your way to the bathroom. You needed another shower.
Summary: The group attacks the Saviors' satellite station. Daryl wanted you to stay back home at Alexandria. You didn't - and were now paying the price.
Set in Season 6!
Warnings: the attack of the group on the Savior's satellite outpost, weapons, mentions of blood and death, angst, protective!Daryl, pregnant reader, kidnapping/taken hostage, injuries, swear words, lots of fluff
Word Count: 3k
a/n: Had the idea and needed to write it... 🤭
Love In The Rearview Mirror °☆• EoH Masterlist °☆• Daryl Masterlist
It was a mess. One singular, dirty, fucked up mess. Plans were a magnificent thing - as long as they worked. Honestly... Did one plan Rick or the group ever made worked perfectly from start to finish? You highly doubted it. At some point, the shit always hit the fan and everything went south. Just like this time.
Taking out the Saviors at that satellite station had been the only option. You knew it. Rick knew it. Your husband knew it - and the rest of your found family knew it as well. Everything seemed to work out extraordinarily well. Those idiots who were on guard that night believed the lie your group had served them. They went in. Everything was silent - as if the world would hold its breath alongside you and Carol. Daryl didn't allow you to participate in the fight. Ain't gonna happen, sunshine. I tie yer ass to tha' car m'self if I have 't, he had said to you. Carol offered to stay with you. Keep an eye on you - much to the archer's relief.
Unfortunately, that plan did not work out either.
Silence. Gun fire. Sirens - and you were on your feet; stubborn and determined to help your family and especially Daryl out. Something Carol wasn't fond of. And now, a small argument, an 'ambush' and a blindfolded car ride later, the two of you found yourself taken hostage by three Saviors in a former slaughterhouse. Great.
"Talk," Michelle - one of the Saviors snarled at you; gun in hand but not raised at you. Yet. You just looked the other woman dead in the eyes - unimpressed, fearless. "Tell me where you're holed up. Where's your camp?" You kept your stoic impression - until a queasy, unsettling feeling overran your midsection. It came unexpected and out of the blue - like most of the times. Your stomach churned and twisted, and before you could even blink twice was the bile raising within your throat. You turned your head to the side - and vomited on the floor. By now, you were used to it. More or less. But you hated it anyway. Coughing once and spitting out the remains of vomit in your mouth, you turned to face the woman sitting on the chair in front of you again. Her cold eyes flickered from your face to the small pool of vomit on the floor, then back to your face and lastly landed on the slight curve of your belly; hidden underneath the t-shirt you were wearing.
"Must be somewhere real good if you got the time to make babies," Michelle started to speak again; voice still cold and dangerous. "Still utterly stupid if you ask me... Getting knocked up now," she continued and shook her head. "You really think this baby is going to survive? Make it in this world?" You held her cold, unimpressed gaze. "I won't die today," you stated. "Neither this baby." The woman across from you scoffed; almost laughing sarcastically at your words. "You're awfully confident, given your situation." The Savior gestured at the duck tape around your ankles and wrists. Then she loaded the gun in her hand with a crucial 'click' and raised it at you. "Let's see if you're still confident now," she snarled. "Tell me where your camp is. Right fucking now."
"I dun like this..." Daryl repeated once again after you shut the car door; shouldering your rifle. "Babe. Saying this another trillion times won't change anything. I'm here now. And I'm staying." The archer groaned low in his throat. His worried, dissatisfied expression told you more than words ever could in that moment. "Why? Why do ya hafta do this? Maggie stayed back as well. Why couldn't you?"
Unlike Daryl, was Glenn able to convince his pregnant wife to stay in Alexandria and keep things running there.
"Because I am the reason this is happening. I got us into this situation. I made that deal with Gregory. I can't just stay back and let all of you do the dirty work. I can't." A frustrated grunt left your husband's lips. "I get it. I do. But yer pregnant, for Christ's sake!" You nodded. "Yes, I know. I can feel and see it." That wasn't the answer Daryl had hoped for - let alone expected. "You 'n yer damn stubbornness..." he mumbled under his breath - but you heard him anyway. "Pot kettle, Mr. Dixon," you deadpanned; quick at repartee. "That's why we match so well." The archer suppressed yet another groan, "Yer gonna be the death 'a me, woman." and reached for the knife in its sheath attached to his belt. "Yer gonna stay close 't me, ya hear? No wanderin' off or doin' things on yer own. We clear?" Daryl ordered in a gruff voice; fear, worry and the urge to protect you reflecting in his eyes. You nodded; subtly reaching for his hand - which was currently balled into a fist. "Promise." The man's hand practically melted under your touch; loosening up. "Good." He allowed your hand to slip into his and gave it a squeeze; oceanic blues staring into your Y/E/C ones. "Daryl, Y/N. Ya comin'?" Rick's voice 'interrupted' the little moment you shared. "Yah," Daryl answered and gave you a last, lingering look.
Thinking about it now, he should've tried harder to convince you to stay back. He had a bad feeling about you tagging along from the very start. He should've listened to it. Because now you were taken hostage. Two of the most important people in his life. Three.
Daryl was walking up and down on the grassy, wet underground beneath him like a wounded, trapped animal. He was fighting very hard against the irrationality which wanted to take over his brain. Every cell in his body screamed at him to track you (and Carol) down right now and kill everyone who only dared to lay a finger on you. The urge to protect his wife and baby was too strong to push aside.
"Daryl." The archer clenched his jaw and balled his hands to fists - ready to strike. "Daryl." He couldn't lose you. Nor the kid. He just couldn't. "Daryl, hey," a voice suddenly - finally - reached him. And a hand on his chest made him look up - into the eyes of Rick. "Brother? Brother. I need ya to calm down, alright? I need ya with me in this." He was still seconds away from losing it. "I know you wanna go after her - after them. We all do. But we gotta be smart about this, 'kay? Acting reckless now won't help 'em." Rick's words helped to clear the fog inside Daryl's head; helping him think at least a little clearer. And shit, he was right.
The man inhaled deeply - only now realising that his breath had been labored. He was acting like a bull at a gate. So much anger. So much fear. "You hear me, brother?" Slowly, Daryl nodded and took a step back; trying to tame his rage. He had learned to manage his anger and control his hot-headed-ness throughout the years, but... When it came to a person he loved - truly loved and deeply cared about, all his restraints went flying out the window. "Yah," he just said and took another deep breath; starting to chew on the pad of this thumb to somehow compensate. "Good." Rick gave him a nod as well. "We're gonna make this trade and get 'em back." "Wha' if they ain't gonna agree on this." The former policeman gritted his teeth and almost growled in response. "They're going to." Rick reached for the walkie-talkie strapped to his belt again to talk with those pricks who had taken you and Carol hostage - but without much success. For now. So, the leader turned to his group to discuss alternative plans, while Daryl just listened at first. Until...
"I ain't gonna jus' sit around 'n do nothin'," he said gruffly; all eyes on him now. "You won't. We won't," Rick started and looked around one. "We're gonna track 'em down, get Y/N and Carol out, and kill the rest of them." Then his gaze settled on the archer. "Daryl?" He nodded and started to walk ahead - away from the satellite station towards where the group had 'hidden' the cars to hopefully find any traces or hints where you and Carol had been taken to.
It took the skilled tracker quite a few minutes to find something, but Daryl being Daryl, he did find the place you and Carol had been ambushed. A few yards north from the cars in the woods. "Took 'em here," Daryl stated; analysing the tracks on the wooden, earthy ground - and froze. Something Rick instantly noticed. "What? What is it?" Daryl swallowed hard. "There's blood." Rick cursed under his breath. Sure, you and Carol told him on the radio that you were fine, but what if it was a lie you were forced to tell?
Trying not lose it - again, Daryl continued to scan the ground. "Look like they took 'em south. Tracks leading tha' way." He pointed into the woods. "Gotta get 'em, Rick. If they're hurt-" "We will," the man instantly said; interrupting his brother. "Sasha, Abraham, Michonne, Aaron..." He addressed half of the group. "You're gonna stay here with the cars. Just in case. Glenn, Rosita, Gabriel... You're going to come with me and Daryl." Then his eyes landed on the man the group had taken hostage as well. "And take that prick as well."
Said and done. Daryl led his people through the woods; following the small group of Saviors. They did good work with covering their tracks - but not good enough. They were good but Daryl was better.
"They took cars from 'ere." "Can you track 'em anyway?" Daryl's sharp blue eyes scanned the earthy, slightly muddy ground again. "'S not much, but... Yah. Think so."
The tire tracks led to an old, seemingly abandoned slaughterhouse. It was already visible from quite a distance away; although hidden by a few trees at the edge of the wood. "Alright," Rick whispered; eyes on the 'target'. "We go in. Get our people and-" Before the leader could even finish his sentence, the walkie-talkie crackled to life again. "Asshole, you there?" The man exanged a look with the others. "I'm here," he answered. "We've thought about it. We want to make the trade." "That's good." "There's a large field with a sign that says 'God is dead' about two miles down I-66. Good visibility in all directions." "We'll meet you there. Ten minutes?" "Ten minutes." Daryl shook his head. "I ain't buyin' this. 'S too easy. 'M gonna go in there anyway." "He's right," agreed Rosita. Rick nodded; looking at Gabriel and Glenn. They nodded as well - even though not entirely convinced. "Fine."
"L-Let's get out of here," you said to Carol - who gave you a short nod. The look on her face was just as distraught as yours were. You didn't want to do what you had to do. Neither did Carol. But you had no other choice. You had to protect yourself. You had to protect your unborn baby and you had to protect the people you loved and called family. Daryl first and foremost.
Together, you left the burning floor and the cruel things the two of you had to do behind - and nevertheless they followed you like a shadow. They were etched into your soul. No going back.
Just as you reached the main entrance, the big, heavy steel doors got ripped open. A short wave of adrenaline and fear rolled over you; not quite helping the still lingering queasy feeling in you stomach. Your body was prepared for yet another fight - but then you saw familiar faces. Rick, Rosita, Glenn, Gabriel - Daryl. A relieved sob left your lips; shoulders slouching as the tension left your body.
"D-Daryl," you whispered; more than happy and relieved to see him. The archer didn't waste a second. He instantly stormed over and crushed you against his chest. Your arms wound around his middle; fingers digging into his vest as you held onto him tightly. Silent tears ran down your cheeks. "'M here. I got ya," he whispered only for you to hear. After a long, tight hug, Daryl pulled back to look at your face; seeing the tears and trouble in your eyes. The smell of blood and smoke was in the air; urging him on to get you out of here. "C'mon," your partner gently guided you out of the building - exchanging a quick look with Rick on the way. Of course, he couldn't stop himself from checking in on his best friend as well. He gave Carol a short, tight hug before he got you to safety - away from the smoke, while the rest of the group dealt with Primo - or whatever he was called.
"Ya okay?" Daryl asked - rather in a frenzy and gave your body a concerning once-over. "I-I dunno," you admitted honestly in a quiet voice. It had been a lot. Physically and mentally. His blue orbs locked with yours as he leaned in to press a lingering kiss on your forehead - a silent promise that he was here for you and always would be. Your anchor and tower of strength.
But then his eyes flickered back southward; sticking on your slightly swollen belly. "Yer bleedin'," the archer stated in a hoarse, worried voice as he saw the quite big red stain on the grey t-shirt you wore. You swallowed hard; remembering how Michelle sliced your bump with a knife right before Carol-
You stopped yourself from thinking further; not wanting to relive that memory again. "'S nothing bad, babe." Daryl shook his head, "Lemme see." and squatted down on the wet grassy ground before he carefully lifted your t-shirt to check on the wound. "I-It's just a scratch," you whispered; trying to reassure him and also yourself. You placed your smaller palms on his bigger hands where they touched your body. One was still holding up the piece of fabric above your abdomen, while the other was framing the swell of the baby and the still slightly oozing cut. "Dun fuckin' care, sunshine. Yer hurt. Gotta getcha home, check on ya 'n the kid." You nodded in agreement; knowing he was right. "'Kay." The archer cautiously tugged the t-shirt back in place and stood up; not letting go of your hands. "C'mon."
The others exited the burning building only a few moments later - without Primo. You took two of their cars to get back to your cars. The entire ride back - even though it wasn't more than fifteen or twenty minutes, you sat tucked against Daryl in the backseat. Your head on his shoulder; practically glued to his side. The bowman had one arm wrapped around your waist to keep you in place; free hand protectively splayed over your stomach where his unborn baby grew. That didn't change on the ride back home.
As soon as the car had rolled to an halt inside the gates of Alexandria, Daryl didn't waste even a minute and took you - and Carol straight to the infirmary; making sure that you two - three, were alright.
You got the cut bandaged, checked to exclude other injuries and an ultrasound to make sure the baby was okay as well. Daryl could only relax a little when he heard that everything was okay and how it should be.
Now, quite a few hours later, the bowman found himself sitting at the open window in the small but cozy basement apartment you shared; thinking. He couldn't sleep. Unlike you, who were curled up in bed across from the window; sleeping peacefully. Luckily. He was glad that you were at least able to rest and sleep. You definitely needed it, after all. But Daryl had a hard time shutting his brain off. A trillion thoughts were running through his head - all culminating in one particular, very strong and present thought... You. The archer couldn't help but worry. Especially after what happened today. He wasn't able to protect you. Something worse could've happened. The possibilities of 'What if...'s seemingly sheer endless. Sure, the Saviors were dead - that's what he tried to believe but a small voice in his head repeatedly confronted him with a particular question...
What if we didn't end it but rather started something?
His worrying, though, came suddenly to an screeching halt when his ears picked up the sound of rustling sheets; followed by his name tumbling quietly from your lips. Daryl instantly turned to not face the darkness but you, laying still inside the bed; dipped in the beautiful blue-ish light of the full moon shining through the windows. You were still asleep. That much could Daryl tell from his position. But you seemed to be a little restless and a frown creased your forehead.
Without even thinking twice, your partner made his way back over to bed quietly and slipped back underneath the sheets beside you. Now he realized that you must be dreaming. He inched closer and took you into his arms; tucking your head against his chest. His free hand brushed a few loose strands gently and cautiously - not to wake you, out of your face before it ultimately came to rest on the subtle swell of your stomach. "'M here, sunshine. 'S all good," he whispered in that deep, gravelly voice of his; trying to reach your subconscious. To Daryl's slight surprise did it work. You calmed down entirely and snuggled against him; sinking back down in a peaceful sleep.
Whatever the future was going to bring, he swore to himself to make sure you and the baby were safe and sound - no matter what it would take. He'd burn down the entire world if necessary.
Hiii babes! Congrats on 3k. You deserve that and so much more 💜
For your event, could I request the song Sweet Child O’ Mine by Guns ‘n Roses with our lovely archer Mr Daryl Dixon? Fluff all the way because I love it.
Love you! Remember to take care of yourself 💜
Daryl x Sweet Child 'O Mine
Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader
▶️ part of the lyric-drabble-mania (3k followers celebration)
▶️ word count: 1092
▶️ warnings: lots of fluff, babies? established relationship
▶️ lyric-drabble-mania 80s & 90s special masterlist °☆• Daryl masterlist
divider by @cafekitsune <3
You were the most beautiful, angelic creature Daryl had ever laid his eyes upon. So pure. So innocent. Seemingly untouched by this decaying, rotting world. Never before had a woman swept him off his feet as hard as you did. You were so different from him. The complete opposite, in fact. He was rough, rugged and hot-headed. You were soft, delicate and patient. The huge difference between you two was what held the bowman back from talking to you in the beginning. He was insecure anyway - especially when it came to women. But this only added to his hesitation and insecurity. Daryl was afraid of staining you; twisting you. Most things he touched turned into dust - and he couldn't bear if this would've happen to you. It took him years to work up the courage and 'make a move' on you. But he did - and it turned out to be the best decision he ever made.
'Comrades' - companions into friends. The friendship grew like a beautiful tree; got stronger roots which went deeper and deeper into the earth. And then this 'tree of friendship' blossomed. Friendship into love.
You and Daryl took things slow; let the love between you grow steady. One step at a time.
At some point those two worlds collided; melted together. The lines became blurred. And this collision resulted in the most beautiful way possible: The creation of new life...
Daryl bridged the distance between the door frame and the sofa; coming to stand in front of you. "Give 'er here, sunshine. I'll look after her," he stated; reaching out his hands. "I can see tha' you 'r tired. Go 't bed." You hesitated for a moment; knowing that he needed his sleep as well. Being a Commonwealth soldier wasn't the easiest job. But then you felt the exhaustion in your bones. A yawn left your lips. "'Kay," you mumbled and carefully handed the still crying baby over to her father.
Daryl blinked; trying to get himself out of the thoughts he had gotten lost in. His eyes were still set on you, of course. Watching you from the door frame to your shared bedroom in the small apartment at the Commonwealth. You sat on the sofa in the living room; lights dimmed and trying your best to soothe the crying baby girl in your arms.
A soft smile stretched over the archer's lips. "She's quite antsy tonight," he said in a hushed voice - not to startle you. Your tired eyes lifted from the child to look at him. "Yeah, she is. I don't know why, though."
Then he watched you retreat to the bedroom to hopefully get some much needed rest. Taking care of a newborn wasn't always easy. Sure, this little miracle in Daryl's arms was mostly an angel - but she could also be a little spitfire. "'Kay, 'kay," he focused on his baby girl and adjusted her, so that her tiny cheek was resting against his bare, warm chest. Skin on skin. He was very aware that she loved it, so it was the first thing he tried. Hunger and a diaper change weren't an option, since he knew you tried that first. You mostly did; mama instincts operating at full stretch.
Your partner smiled softly at you; visibly happy that you took the offer. "Sleep," he told you again and leaned in to press a lingering kiss against your forehead. You couldn't help but smile. "Thanks," you whispered and hooked your thumbs inside the waistband of his black sleep pants. "But I'd very much like to have a proper good night kiss first." Daryl felt the sheer endless love he held in his heart for you rush through his entire body; tickling every nerve end. He'd never not be touched and overwhelmed by your love.
Another soft smile spread over his lips and he dipped his head once again to grant your wish; giving you a 'proper' good night kiss.
One of his big palms gently cradled her head while the other cupped her bum - keeping her safely locked against him. Then he walked up and down in the living room while softly bouncing up and down. At first was his tactic not very successful, but when he added his deep, rough voice into the mix and one of his other secret weapons, the newborn finally started to calm down.
And it worked.
Daryl's destination was the record player he had gifted Judith. He remembered the happiness shining in her eyes when he gave it to her. It was the one thing Jude had wished for. Now, the record player also made the youngest member of the family happy.
Making sure that the volume was turned down - he didn't intend to wake the whole building, he turned the player on. Since the little lady in his arm was her daddy's child, had she a thing for rock music. This time, Daryl quietly played 'Sweet Child O' Mine' for her by 'Guns 'N Roses'.
Her cries quietened down to small whimpers and whines. "There we go, baby girl, there we go," Daryl whispered with an audible smile. "Told ya daddy gotcha." He returned to the sofa and sat down with her still tucked against his chest; music softly playing in the background. The archer's gaze dropped; marvelling at his daughter. He still had a hard time sometimes to grasp that this was truly his. You. Her. This bond. He had a family now for crying out loud.
Shaking his head in disbelief, he felt the baby wriggle slightly against him. Daryl couldn't help but smile again. "Gettin' comfy, sweetheart, huh?" He cooed. "Yeah, I know ya like 't sleep on my chest. Gives ya warmth 'n safety, righ'?"
Another wave of love hit the bowman, and a feeling of completeness filled his heart. It felt like he was finally where he was supposed to be in life. He had stopped running; had found his peace. That was the man he was supposed to be.
One hand of the archer held her small body securely in place - not that she'd get hurt or something, while he ran his thumb over the tiny hand splayed on his skin. She was so small compared to him. So fragile - but damnit if he wouldn't burn down the entire world to keep her safe. And you. And the kids.
The little girl reacted almost instantly to the gentle touch and wrapped her tiny fingers around his thumb; holding onto tightly.
disclaimer: All the lines taken from the songs are not mine. Credits to the artists. I just used the lyrics for the plot, 'atmosphere' and inspiration in these drabbles.
Congratulations on your 3K followers, my love!!! You're an amazing and talented writer. I look forward to reading more.
For your event I was hoping you can do a little something with Tears for Fears "Everybody Wants to Rule The World." And obviously I would request it be about Loki 🤭
Congrats again 🎉🥳
Loki x Everybody Wants to Rule the World
Loki Laufeyson x fem!Reader
▶️ part of the lyric-drabble-mania (3k followers celebration)
▶️ word count: 1042
▶️ warnings: Steve? swear words? mentions of torture through Thanos (poor Loki), mentions of murder, fluff - kinda
▶️lyric-drabble-mania 80s & 90s special masterlist °☆• Loki Masterlist
divider by @cafekitsune <3
"Why are you doing this, Y/N? Why do you defend him?"
It was the first sentence Steve threw your way after you had opened up the door to your apartment in the Avengers tower for him. No hello, no how are you doing - nothing. Just an accusation. You liked Steve. You were colleagues. But that was it. No romantic feelings - on your side at least. Although, you were pretty sure that he had at least a crush on you. It was kinda obvious. The man was very bad at hiding this.
"Hello to you as well, nice to see you. I'm doing good, thanks," you said - borderline sarcastically and crossed your arms over your chest; leaning against the door frame. He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Stop that, Y/N, please. This is not a game. It's much more - and you know it, so I'm asking you again... Why did you do that?"
You knew exactly what Steve was getting at - or well, referring to. The congress. The meeting with SHIELD and some of the most important people of America. The reason? Loki Laufeyson - or Reindeer Games, how Tony called him. After the attack on New York City, nobody knew what to do with him. He was rotting away in a high-security cell here on the compound, and today was the first discussion on what his punishment would be.
What nobody knew, though, was how often you had visited and talked to the Asgardian prince. Why? Because you believed in his innocence. Because you had seen behind the mask he had worn. You had done a lot of research and thoroughly studied the God's 'files'; spent hours talking to him. Truly talking. At first Loki had been reserved. Sceptical. Not really telling you anything. But over time... He had noticed that your intentions were pure and honest. That you truly wanted to help him. So, he opened up to you. About the attack. About the sceptre. The mind stone - and Thanos. What he did to him. It had brought tears to your eyes.
Now you knew that he was not an evil person - just misunderstood.
"Because he deserves to be heard." Steve sighed; running a hand over his face. "Y/N... That man threatened a whole city. He killed people, he-" Cap cut off his own sentence with another sigh. "All he wants is to rule the world." You almost snorted out a laugh at his words. "Oh yeah? Well, everybody wants to rule the world. Look around you, Cap. This world is full of corrupt, rich and evil pricks who manipulate industries, regimes and millions of people into doing exactly that. But Loki? Loki is the complete opposite of that."
Steve looked at you stunned. "You aren't serious, are you? You can't be... Y/N, he manipulated Barton, Selvig and lots of other people to do cruel things for him. How is that different?"
You huffed; shaking your head. "Not he did that. Thanos did. Were you all that blind? Did you really not see the hurt and trouble in Loki's eyes? He didn't do that on his free will, Cap. He was forced into this. Tortured into this. A lost soul Thanos took advantage of." The man across you sighed and lowered his head. He was actually so done with this conversation, but it was you. Just walking away wasn't him. So, he at least tried.
"You see that?" You asked; watching Loki talk to Selvig on the screen. "See what, Y/N?" You blinked; couldn't understand how Steve didn't get what you meant. "The hurt and fear in his eyes for example? Can't you see the dark circles underneath them? Or how utterly pale and sweaty he looks? The actual weakness in his bones? Or the marks on his skin? Looks like bruises or... burns." The scenes continue; switched to the Hummer they escaped with. "See? He doubles over. He can't even hold himself up on his feet." Then the tape stopped.
"Can you proof that to be true? That he was forced and tortured into his crimes?" "No, but if you look at the footage of him - truly look, you'll see." Steve took a deep breath. "Alright, fine. Let's have a look at the footage of the security cameras again."
To say you were grateful that Cap agreed to review the material again was an understatement - but unfortunately, it didn't lead to the outcome you had hoped for...
Steve rubbed the bridge of his nose with yet another sigh. "Y/N, I don't mean to disappoint you, but... This can be anything. There's no connection to Thanos."
Your jaw dropped at his words. You were close to being speechless.
A relieved breath left your lips and you gave the man a soft smile. "Thanks, Steve. Thank you." He shut down the laptop and got up; moved to step out of the actual way too cramped control room. "I'm doing this for you, Y/N. Not for him," was all Steve said before he turned his back on you and left. You looked after him and swallowed hard. You knew he liked you, but... you just liked Loki more. Your heart had made that decision.
"No connection? No connection?! Are you kidding me, Cap? He had the scepter. The mind stone. The Chitauri are loyal to Thanos - it's a proven fact." So slowly, the man started to loose his nerves and patience a little as well. "Okay, yes, let's say this is connected to Thanos. It's still no evidence of torture. Loki could be an ally of him." You violently shook your head; in total disbelief what was happening right now.
"He's not, Cap! Everything is so obvious - and you just refuse to see it. Loki is a Frost Giant, and how do you torture a Frost Giant? With heat, exactly. The symptoms he showed... He could've been suffering from a heat stroke or even worse." Steve listened, then just looked at you for a long moment; contemplating, weighing the options and your words. Then he nodded. "Alright. Perhaps I can organize a little time for you at the next congress, so that you can voice your theory. No promises, though."
disclaimer: All the lines taken from the songs are not mine. Credits to the artists. I just used the lyrics for the plot, 'atmosphere' and inspiration in these drabbles.
Every breath you take by The Police (1983) Daryl Dixon angst?
Daryl x Every Breath You Take
Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader
▶️ part of the lyric-drabble-mania (3k followers celebration)
▶️ word count: 2107
▶️ warnings: angst, mentions of Alpha, injuries, hurt, fluff
▶️ lyric-drabble-mania 80s & 90s special masterlist °☆• Daryl masterlist
divider by @cafekitsune <3
Daryl was staring aimlessly over the rooftops and fields of Alexandria; watching the sun slowly sink beyond the horizon as he sat on the 'viewing platform' of the windmill with his back pressed against the big, wooden construction. It would've been a breathtaking view, if the fields weren't destroyed and some of the houses damaged - thanks to Beta and his horde. Nothing that couldn't be repaired and rebuilt, though. But there was also something that couldn't be fixed; overshadowing his heart for days. He sighed and had to fight hard against the tears which wanted to break free; so lost in his thoughts that he didn't hear the child's steps on the wooden underground, until-
"Uncle Daryl?"
Jude looked at her uncle for a moment; lips pressed together in concern. "I was looking for you. Carol said she saw you go up here," she explained and sat down beside the archer. "Sum'thin' up? Ya okay?" Daryl asked - now slightly alerted. He looked down at her; trying to read her eyes and expression. The young girl shook her head. "I'm okay - but you're not." It wasn't a question. It was an assessment.
A voice so soft and precious. A voice which belonged to a person that usually never failed to make him smile. Someone he knew already her whole life.
The archer looked up - right into the warm, kind eyes of Judith. Her signature Sheriff hat on her head and a soft smile on her lips. "Hey," Daryl greeted the child and gave her a small, although sad smile in return. "Whatcha doin' up here? 'S almost dark. Time 't go to bed."
Damn. Why were children so damn attentive?
Daryl sighed. He couldn't lie. Not to Judith anyway. He met her gaze again and chew on the inside of his bottom lip. Then he nodded. "'M not, but... 'S nothin' you have to worry about, okay? 'S my worry to carry. Definitively not yours." Judith being Judith, she instantly shook her head. "I know, but... You always listen to me when I'm afraid or worried. I want to listen to you, too."
"Haven't been the same since the cave," he started to speak; lifting his head again. "Since loosin' her." His heart ached at the mere thought of it. Of you. Like a schoolboy, he had been crushing on you for years - and now he didn't even get to tell you. He should've. He regretted deeply to not been having the balls to confess his feelings before you and Magna got buried in the cave.
The archer scoffed but couldn't help the smile which formed on his lips. Typically. He should've known. Should've anticipated that.
"Please? I know you're sad and hurting," Jude spoke up quietly again. "I wanna help." Daryl lowered his head for a moment to think - and gave in, in the end. He couldn't cope. Like Judith said. He wasn't okay - and he didn't want her to worry about him.
He swallowed hard - and Judith listened. "'S like 'm lost. Like a piece 'a me is missin'," Daryl explained; eyes directed ahead. "Everytime I close 'm eyes I see her 'n get reminded tha' she's..." The archer paused; had to swallow hard. He didn't want to say the word, 'cause deep down he still held on to the possibility of you being alive - just like Magna. "...lost." The word came out more or less croaked as the gnawing feeling of failure to help and protect you got louder and louder in his head.
Then he suddenly felt the smaller hand of Judith on his, which caused the man to turn his head to face the young girl again. "Uncle Daryl? I think you love aunt Y/N."
It was the first thing Jude said since she asked Daryl to talk about his worries - and it hit him like a freight train. Some people would say she's just a child and didn't know any better - but oh, she did. Judith was smart. Probably the smartest kid he ever knew. And attentive. So damn attentive. With those words, she definitely hit the target - and Daryl couldn't be even mad at her for discovering his secret. For blowing his cover and looking right through him. Judith was honest and straight up told him what she thought.
Daryl was still looking at her; chewing on the inside of his bottom lip again. Then he nodded. "I do, yah," he finally admitted shyly; confirming Judith's assumption. A smile spread over her face. "Then you have to go and find her. Magna found Yumiko again. So you can find Y/N again." The bowman's eyes softened, but a small huff left his lips. "Can't jus' leave, Jude. Not after Beta's horde ran through our home. They need me here. Gotta fix it. Make it safe for you, RJ 'n the other kids again."
The girl instantly shook her head. "No, you have to, uncle Daryl. Mom said that it's important to hold on to the people we love. You love aunt Y/N, so you have to find her again." Daryl looked at the girl he already held as an infant - all those years back at the prison, with a softness in his eyes that only she managed to bring out in him. "Jude... 'S not that easy." Again shook the ten-year-old her head. "It is."
She was definitely just as stubborn as he was...
When the archer didn't find any more words to say, Judith inched a little closer to hug her uncle's side. Like a switch being flipped, Daryl lifted an arm to lay it around the child's shoulders and create some more comfort.
"I just want you to be happy again. You deserve a happy end, too," she whispered then; causing Daryl's grip to tighten a notch around her and his head to spin with thoughts.
The conversation Daryl had with Judith and the constant longing in his heart for you managed to change his mind in the end. So, barely a day later, he left Alexandria to hopefully find you. His heart kept on hoping, of course, but there was this little voice inside his head he couldn't turn off... The voice that told him he was never going to find you again - just like he never found his brother again.
His first destination was the cave, of course, in which Alpha had held her horde. Magna got out with you and the walkers. Perhaps he could find any hints. Anything that told him where to look for you. Unfortunately stamped down a horde that big almost everything within miles. It was almost impossible to filter the tracks and find something useable - even for an excellent tracker like him. So, he just followed every little track he though could've been from someone different than a rotten body or a animal. It took him hours. Days.
Without hesitation he threw his crossbow aside and climbed into the ditch to reach you. "Y/N!" He called out your name; kneeling beside you. "Y/N?" Please don't let me be too late. Please don't take her from me, the bowman found himself thinking; the sentences running through his mind on loop like a prayer. "Y/N," Daryl called your name for the third time; voice husky and strained. He shook your shoulder gently, then checked your pulse.
The more time passed, the more restless he got. Daryl barely slept; just ate enough to keep him on his feet and going. He hadn't much time to hunt.
But on day five - he believed, he was finally successful. The archer didn't just find a hint or a track. Even better. He found you. Quite far from the cave and home - but he found you. In a ditch, covered with dirt, mud, walker guts and most likely your own blood. His heart threatened to explode in his chest; a strange mix of happiness and worry flooding his system.
Still alive.
The relief he felt in his veins sheer overwhelming. You were alive but clearly dehydrated and visibly hurt.
"C'mon, sunshine, wake up," Daryl whispered; cupping your dirty cheek - and finally, you stirred. You didn't open your eyes but mumbled something incoherent. He smiled; tears threatening to break free from his eyes. "There she is," he breathed, then instantly reached for the canteen in his beige backpack to give you a small sip of water.
Once he had shouldered the backpack again - and his crossbow, he instantly went to work; sliding his strong arms underneath your body to lift you up gently. "'M gonna getcha home. Yer safe now." And he did. He carried you to the little camp he had set up, where he cleaned up at least your face and arms and tended to the wound on your forehead, while consistently giving you small sips of water to hopefully get your body hydrated again. It was too dangerous to travel at night, so with the first rays of daylight, Daryl got on his way. He didn't care that he had to carry you all the way back. You needed help.
It took him quite a while to get home, given the fact that he was forced to take a few breaks. But in the end, he arrived at the gates of Alexandria - totally exhausted, but with you in his arms and that was everything that mattered.
Everyone was utterly relieved, of course. Judith, who had seen her uncle make his way to the infirmary, gave him a huge smile. Daryl gave the girl a nod and a thankful little smile in return.
The archer didn't leave your side. Not once. He stayed glued by your side; wanting to be there when you'd wake up. Every breath you took, every move you made - he was there; watching over you. Until almost two days later, when you finally opened your eyes.
"Y/N. Yer awake," his voice was filled with happiness but still a little sleepy. Your smile didn't falter. He looked utterly cute; hair all mussed up. "H-Hey," you said; a cough following. Daryl instantly reached for the glass of water standing on the small bedside table and helped you drink.
Everything was a blur at first; your eyes needing a moment to refocus. It also took you a second to recognize where you were. Infirmary. Alexandria. Home.
The second thing you noticed was a comfortable weight on the right side of your blanket. You turned your head slowly - only to see Daryl. He had his head resting on his arms and was asleep. Your first reaction was to smile. "D-Daryl?" You croaked out; throat dry - and he was instantly awake. His eyes snapped open and he lifted his upper body off your bed.
"W-What happened?" "What do ya remember?" The archer answered with a question while putting the glass back down. "We... We were in that cave with Alpha's horde. Things exploded. Magna and I got buried. We tried to get out but couldn't. Then they started to move the walkers, so we had only one choice... To walk with 'em," you swallowed hard and furrowed your brows in concentration. "We got out of the cave but then lost each other. There were just too many walkers. I got crowded to the edge of the horde and fell into a ditch. I couldn't stop it, 'cause they would've known that I'm not one of them. So, I fell and I guess I hit my head or something. After that it's only a blur. I remember waking up at some point, but..." You shook your head.
Daryl nodded; chewing on the inside of his bottom lip. "Been lookin' for ya. Took me days 't find ya, but I did. Patched ya up as far as I could 'n carried ya back home." A thankful smile stretched over your lips. You reached out a hand and placed it on top of his hand - unbeknownst sending a shiver down the archer's spine. "Thank you. Really." He shook his head, "Ain't gotta thank me." and cautiously - almost hesitantly moved his hand to slip his fingers through yours. "I'd do anythin' for ya," he added quietly; voice shy and cracking.
He wasn't good in talking about feelings, but these words... They meant a lot. You knew that as well. You knew what they meant and how valuable they were. You smiled at him and gave his hand a soft squeeze. "I'm glad you found me." The bowman nodded; heart beating fast in his chest. "Yah... Me too."
disclaimer: All the lines taken from the songs are not mine. Credits to the artists. I just used the lyrics for the plot, 'atmosphere' and inspiration in these drabbles.
▶️lyric-drabble-mania 80s & 90s special masterlist °☆• Loki Masterlist
divider by @cafekitsune <3
You sighed again and shifted your weight on the grass you sat on; the fabric of the dress you wore splayed out beautifully in a circle around you. Admittedly, you knew it wasn't easy for him to get to you. To escape the prying eyes of his father and the guards. He was a prince after all - and certainly not meant to court a 'normal' woman. 'Cause that was exactly what you were... A normal Asgardian woman. Your mother was a seamstress; your father a blacksmith. Nothing special.
He loves me, you whispered in your head and plucked a single petal from the beautiful lily in your hand.
He loves me not. You plucked another petal.
He loves me. Another one.
He loves me not.
He loves me.
He loves me not. A rather sad sigh left your lips as you held the last petal of the lily in your hands. Was the flower right? Did he truly not love you? Anymore? You actually knew he did and yet everything seemed against it. For once that he did not visit you in weeks.
And yet, someway somehow did yours and Loki's path cross. Call it destiny. Fate. Not just once. Several times. The secret friendship quickly bloomed into a secret romance.
But perhaps not anymore.
You had heard the rumours. The talk of the town. The tells of your parents about the arrival of the princess of Vanaheim at the palace a few days ago. You weren't stupid. You could count one and one together. Why should a princess visit another kingdom for days if not for courtship? And she was certainly here for the younger prince, since Thor was already betrothed to Lady Sif.
After supper, you retreated to your room in the second floor; still dwelling in thoughts about your beloved prince. Your heart was heavy with sadness; tainted and cut open. Deep down you knew that day would come. The day you'd lose Loki to a princess, because you just weren't enough. You just did not think it was going to happen so soon...
"Y/N! Will you come inside, please? Your mother prepared supper, and it's getting dark," your father called for you, and you obliged; gracefully standing up from the small meadow of the garden in your parent's backyard and made your way inside the cosy house. Your family didn't own much. But what you owned was handled with nothing but love and care.
Your mother gave you a loving smile as she watched you enter the small dining room. "Are you alright, my child?" You took a seat; gave her a nod and smile in return in order to mask the pain in your heart. You already did that for days. "Of course, mama." "Good." Your mother placed a big bowl of soup on the table and pressed a kiss to your forehead, before she sat down as well to join you and her husband. "Now eat, before it gets cold."
Swallowing hard and with the quick 'thump thump thump' of your heart, you stood up and made your way to the window in your room. You opened it and looked outside - and the view was enough to make your breath catch in your throat... Loki stood underneath your window in the garden; shrouded by darkness. Only some beautiful lit torches illuminated him. His one big, smooth hand was carrying little stones, which the other hand was ready to throw. He looked stunningly handsome - even more than usual. Perhaps it was his outfit... He had never worn his armor before to secretly meet you. So open and obvious. His colours, yes. But his armor... That was a first.
You sat crisscrossed on your bed; a beautifully decorated diary in your lap and feather in hand as you wrote your thoughts down in your diary. The book, feather and small ink jar was your most valuable possession. Your treasure.
As you wrote and were sunken in your thoughts, you didn't hear it right away... The sound of small stones against glass. You also positively thought that you were imagining things, since you could've sworn that you heard somebody call your name quietly... You looked up shortly, then shook your head and wanted to return to your diary when you saw it... The small stone thrown against your window pane - and your heart instantly sped up. There was only one person who'd do that...
"Finally..." You heard his deep, familiar voice say. "I already feared I arrived too late and you'd be already asleep." You shook your head and wanted to give him a smile - but then you remembered... All those days and nights he hadn't been visiting you. All this time he had left you groping in the dark. All the rumours and tells you had heard.
"What are you doing here, prince?" A short frown darted across Loki's face; oceanic blue eyes looking up at you in confusion. "I-I have come to see you, darling. Like I always do." You shook your head; feeling the pain again. "Liar." His frown even deepened. You could tell that he was getting restless and a little anxious due to your reaction. "You did not come to visit me in so many days."
Now the prince began to understand your 'wrath'.
"My love, I wanted to come and see you. You have to believe me. I wanted to sneak out - but I did not have the chance. My father... He didn't leave me out of his sight," he whisper-shouted; trying to explain but also not risking to wake your parents or anyone else around the neighborhood.
Once more you shook your head. "You're not being true to me, prince. Do you really think I don't know about it?" "Know what?" The youngest member of the royal family was quite desperate now. You scoffed; crossing your arms over your chest. "The arrival of the princess of Vanaheim. The obvious reason why she's here. The rumours..." You had to suppress a tear. "Quit playing games with my heart, Loki. I know you are courting her. I am losing you. I knew it was going to happen someday, but... It does not fix the pain." You sighed; heart heavy and on the verge of breaking. "I wish I could turn back time - impossible as it may seem."
You said nothing; a silent tear ran down your cheek. "Fine," Loki said then. "Tell me to leave and I'll go. If that is what you wish." You squeezed your eyes shut at his words. Damnit. You wanted to protect yourself. You wanted to tell him to go - but you also wanted to hear what he had to say. It was that last single sliver of hope your heart held. After all, you still loved him.
Loki hung his head. Your words hit him deeply. He never wanted this to turn out the way it did. He didn't intend to hurt your feelings or play games with your heart. His chest tightened. The young prince shared your pain.
"Please, my love, join me for a walk and let me explain this." "Why? To deepen the aching scar you left behind? No." Loki instantly shook his head. "No, no! Please... I want to heal that scar. I never meant to leave it in the first place. Please."
You blushed.
When you said nothing in return again, Loki took that as his sign. He stepped closer - and started to climb. Your eyes widened. "L-Loki, what are you doing?! Are you insane?! You could get hurt!" He shook his head stubbornly. "I refuse to just give up on you - on us. On this love." You blinked and watched in awe. If anything, you had just fallen more in love with him.
"Darling, I need you to step aside." You blinked again. "W-What?" "I can't climb through the window if you stand in front of it." Oh. You stepped aside and made room for him to climb inside. "You may continue to admire me, but please once I am inside your chambers," he added with a wink and mischievous smile.
Once Loki stood in front of you - not just whisper-shouting up the wall, he instantly stepped closer and cautiously reached for your hands - as if afraid you'd push him away. You wanted to. But you couldn't. His warm, soft, smooth skin against yours felt too good. You had missed him.
"My love, I... I wish to apologise first of all. I should've someway somehow let you know what is going on." Loki sighed. "The rumours are unfortunately true - mostly. The princess of Vanaheim is here at the palace, yes. My father wants me to court her, yes. I had to play his foolish games, yes." Your heart clenched at his words, "But I do not wish to continue to court or even marry her. I can't. My heart belongs to you, darling." but also beat faster; hammering against your chest.
He shook his head. "I do not care. We will figure this out, I promise. I am going to talk to mother. She'll understand. She always does. If she can persuade father..." Loki drifted off; brain working hard on a solution. "I love you and I refuse to let you go." You couldn't help but smile; the anger forgotten and the heartbreak fixed. Loki was a trickster - but he would never lie to you. You knew that. He meant what he said. "I-I love you, too, and I trust you. If you say the queen is how we can stay together..." The prince nodded; "Mother is going to help me, I promise." then started to smile.
You swallowed. "T-Truly?" The prince nodded, "Truly. Nothing happened between us. We just spent time together like good acquaintances do." and let go of your hands to cup your cheeks tenderly. "I've chosen you a long time ago and that won't ever change. Not my father, nor another woman."
Another tear escaped your eyes - one that Loki immediately wiped gently away with his thumb. "B-But... Loki... We both know the king won't allow you to marry me. I am no princess. No royalty. I am not enough."
"May I kiss you now? I've been dying to feel your lips on mine." You didn't answer him verbally. You stood on your tiptoes and pressed your lips against his; hands splayed on his gorgeous breast plate.
disclaimer: All the lines taken from the songs are not mine. Credits to the artists. I just used the lyrics for the plot, 'atmosphere' and inspiration in these drabbles.
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sequel to 'team loki pt1'
Summary: After the realization that you returned Loki's affections after all, the god of mischief goes to your apartment to finally put all doubts to rest. And if you're not willing to listen to what he has to say, he's more than willing to show you.
Pairing: Loki x Reader
Word Count: 3.2k
Warning/s: 18+ | smut (minors & pearl clutchers, there's the door); fingering; unprotected p in v; multiple orgasms; clothes ripping; language (look away, Rogers); sad & insecure Reader hours in the beginning [let me know if i missed anything!]
Things to be aware of: a little bit of Loki in his lovesick era towards the end
Dick-tionary: Smut starts at "If you knew how desperately I have ached for this moment, my darling" and ends at the story divider
"Absurd," you hissed to yourself in the shower, the cold water beating down hard on your skin like ice needles. The near arctic temperature was almost enough to put your body into shock that the tears you felt coming in the common room were reduced to a burning sting in the back of your eyes.
Of course he would think it was ridiculous for anyone to even think of you and him in the same sentence as "courtship". But damn, you thought you had enough of a friendship that he wouldn't have outright laughed at the notion in your face.
You took a few deep breaths to calm yourself, raising your face to the icy stream to force the last of the tears back down. When you felt like a naked human popsicle, you finally turned the shower off, haphazardly drying yourself before slipping on an oversized t-shirt sleep dress. You were just about to prep an ice cream sundae in your ramen bowl when you heard a knock on your door.
"Guess the sugar coma's gonna have to wait," you grumbled, half-stomping your way to your front door. Once you saw who was on the other side, however, you immediately straightened your back and forced a smile on your face. "Ohh. Hey, Mischief. What's up?"
The god smiled down at you, briefly touching his finger to a drenched lock of your hair, magically drying it with his seiðr with the tiniest flick of his hand. His brows knitted together when he noticed your temperature, though. "Darling, you're freezing."
"Right…" You drew out your response, keeping your eyes glued to the floor. "Took a cold shower--"
"Are you feeling unwell?"
"Huh? No. Well--kind of but not, I mean I'm not sick," you stammered, shaking your head so violently you briefly looked like you were possessed by a dog. You forced yourself to smile again before raising your head to meet his gaze. "What d'you need, Loki?"
The sudden change in your tone caused him to blink several times, taking a slight step back. "Well erm…I came to apologize for how my brother behaved toward you earlier. I assure you his intentions were…inconsistent with his actions."
"Look, I don't know and I'm not gonna pretend to know the thousand-something years worth of context between you and Thor," you told him, taking your own step back and placing your hand on the door, more than ready to end this conversation. "But whatever weird ass fuckery he gets up to is not on you. There's absolutely no need for you to apologize for his actions."
He breathed out a sigh of relief, and your heart thundered in your chest when he reached over and his large hand wrapped around yours. "That is a relief to hear, little mortal."
You gave him an awkward shrug, pulling your hand away. "Sure thing," you mumbled, getting ready to close the door. "Good night, Loki."
"There is another matter I wish to discuss," he said in a rush, placing his other hand over yours at the door. "About what you said…regarding other teams?"
"Right…that," you said, slowly nodding your head. "I don't really know what else there is to discuss about--"
"I know what it truly means, Y/N." His words hit you like he slapped you clean across the face. Suddenly the tears you'd fought back begun to sting at the back of your eyes again. "A few agents walked into the common area shortly after you left, discussing the matter of those specific teams quite candidly before they caught sight of myself and my brother."
Your expression hardened, your lip trembling as you tried to speak to him in the calmest demeanor you could manage. "Loki, it's not polite to knock on someone's door at this hour just to reject them. Maybe this kind of caustic, knife to the gut type approach flies in Asgard, but not here."
"Now hang on--"
You didn't let him finish. "That's just cruel, Loki. It's a cruel thing to do, especially to your friends."
"Darling, if I could just--"
"Damn it, this couldn't have waited until tomorrow?" you snapped, throwing your hands in the air and scoffing out of exasperation. "You don't have to give a formal rejection in person, you know. This could've been a text--Wait actually no, you didn't even have to do anything, I already got your message loud and clear. The mere idea of it is absurd, right? Downright laughable? Don't you worry, Mischief, message fucking received--"
Your tirade got cut short when the god walked towards you, backed you into the wall and laid his lips on yours. Not a moment later he wove his fingers through your hair, keeping you from pulling away. As if you would even want to. Your own hands found their way to a vice grip on his shoulders as his proceeded to greedily roam your body, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer against him.
"I could never be so heartless that I would come here at this hour to rebuke your affections, sweet mortal," he told you once he broke the kiss, catching his breath. He placed his hands on your sides, giving your waist a gentle squeeze before moving up, making the fabric of your shirt ride up your thighs.
Your breath caught in your throat when the god's thumbs brushed lightly over your nipples, the sensitive skin immediately hardening from his touch. You let out a strangled moan, pleading with him. "Loki, please--"
"If you knew how desperately I have ached for this moment, my darling," he rasped. He briefly cupped your breasts in his hands before grabbing the backs of your thighs and lifting you into the air, pinning you to the wall with his hips pressed to yours.
He kissed you again, his hand slipping between your legs and letting out a low, ragged whisper of your name against your lips when his fingers found the soaked evidence of your arousal. He wasted no time, tracing up the length of your slit before descending and slipping his fingers inside you, his movements slow, deliberate. Measured, even.
You moaned into his mouth, desperately grasping at his shoulders when he curled his fingers up and brushed against a spot that had you seeing stars. Your hips started moving of their own accord, chasing that pleasure again.
He broke the kiss, his near blacked out eyes boring into yours. "Ohh, sweet Y/N," he cooed, repeating the movement that had you throwing your head back against the wall. "Is this what you want?" He flicked his fingers again…and again. Faster. All you could do was nod your head helplessly, your moans filling your apartment when he kept that merciless pace. "Look at me, darling. I wish to see your face as you come undone."
Once your gaze met his, something in you snapped. Seeing the mix of the knowing smirk on his face with that soft, almost tender look in his eyes. Part of you could even find yourself believing that this went beyond just lust for him. He wordlessly ordered you to hold his gaze as you came, your walls fluttering around his digits.
He kept stroking his fingers inside you as you rode out your release, much slower now, easing you off your high. "You've no idea what a glorious sight you are like this," he said softly, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. "I look forward to seeing you make that face again."
"Again?" you repeated, breathless and dumbfounded. Hell, part of you was actually trying to determine if this was real or just an unfairly elaborate wet dream.
The god simply answered with a devilish grin, "Again." And then he pulled his fingers out of you and proceeded to tear your sleep dress down the middle, completely baring yourself to him.
His lips latched on to your neck, biting and sucking to the point you were sure he would leave a mark, before moving downward. You felt him smirking against your skin when you let out a whiny whimper as he captured a nipple between his lips, ever so lightly nipping at the hardened skin.
"Tell me you're mine," he told you, his tone somewhere between an order and a plea. "Tell me that if I claim your body now, that what we share will go far beyond tonight." He made his way back up, capturing your lips in a desperate kiss. "Please, my darling mortal."
"Yes," you said in a rushed exhale, your chest still heaving from trying to catch your breath as you locked eyes with the god. The sight of his smirk partnered with the way his eyes were nearly blacked out had you even wetter, squirming in his hold as you tried to mustered the words. "I'm yours, Loki."
He shifted his hold on you, peppering kisses along your collarbone. You barely registered the sound of fabric being shuffled around before you felt the tip of his cock tracing up and down your slit. Then he let out what was probably downright the most decadent, unholiest sound you'd ever had the pleasure to hear as he started to inch his way inside you with shallow thrusts.
I need to hear him make that sound again, you thought to yourself.
Each thrust had him sinking deeper into you, and your joint moans filled your apartment once he was fully sheathed inside of you, your hips flush together. "You are divine," he moaned, his eyes fluttering closed as he started to move, setting a slow, careful pace. A strangled sound slipped from your lips when he shifted his hold again, securing his hold on your thighs before lifting you away from the wall. And then he made that delicious sound again. "Ohh darling," he groaned. "You feel even better like this."
Loki then started to walk further into your apartment, making his way toward the stairs. You whimpered his name, burying your face in the crook of his neck. "What are you doing, Mischief?"
"Taking you to bed, dear heart," he said simply, taking each step with the utmost caution, as if he was holding something so precious to him. Every move he made had you bouncing the slightest bit on his length, making him hit a spot so deep inside you that until tonight you thought it was a myth.
You tightened your arms around his shoulders, your moans muffled against his skin as he maneuvered your apartment.
The pace was broken a few seconds later, the god pushing you back up against the nearest wall as his pace quickened, and he began to thrust into you with less restraint. He looked every bit the portrait of sexual indulgence as he held you in his arms, throwing his head back with his eyes closed as he moaned your name.
"We might not make it to your chambers for a while, sweet Y/N," he confessed, his pace getting rougher as he placed his thumb on your clit, trying to chase your pleasure along with his. "You feel far too perfect." He let out another sinful groan, his neck muscles tensing in a way that had you giving in to the urge to trace them with your tongue. "Ohh yes, my darling."
He weaved his fingers through your hair, pulling your head back so he could capture your lips in a heated kiss. He moaned into your mouth the moment his tongue slipped past your lips and tangled with yours, not once slowing his thrusts.
"My perfect little mortal," he rasped once he broke the kiss, pressing his lips to your cheek. "My love."
That word had you letting out a sharp gasp, dumbly repeating the word as you froze in his arms. "Love?"
The god gave you a smirk, mischief dancing in his eyes as he slowed his thrusts again. "Yes, sweet mortal. Love." He started going even slower, ensuring you could feel every devastating inch of him moving inside you. "Now, darling," he cooed, torturously rolling his hips into you. "It would be impolite to reject one's confession of love at this hour. Especially while they're inside you." Your eyes widened, that smirk turning into a wide devilish grin as he kept going, emphasizing each word with a long, drawn out thrust. "That's. Just. Rude. My love."
It was nothing short of a miracle that you managed to form a response, but the words came out. Bit by bit. Thrust by thrust. Like he was fucking it out of you.
"I--Ohh f-fuck--" Your moans echoed all around your apartment. You could barely find it in you to breathe, never mind speak, after he buried himself to the hilt and then slowly grinded his hips into yours. "You fucking dummy, I love you, too."
Your words had him bucking his hips into you, an obscene sound coming from both of you when he brushed against that mythical pleasure spot again. "Say it again," he spoke, punctuating his soft spoken command with a downright scandalous moaning of your name. "Please, my love."
"I love you." The words came out of you so much easier this time, a sort of relief washing over you.
A relief short-lived, though, because the next moment he pressed against you even closer, there was no part of you two where even air could pass through. His hand traveled down to where your bodies where connected, those sinful fingers finding your clit again and rubbing tight circles on the hardened nub.
"Once more," he whispered in your ear. "Come for me, my love."
His words had you completely surrendering to the orgasm that took over your body, near violently shaking in his hold as you were hit with wave after wave of your climax. Then he started making that obscenely sexy sound as your walls convulsed around every inch of him. You lost count of how many times you repeated the words, your voice barely a whisper as you tried to draw in air into your lungs.
All you knew was that he was saying them, too.
He talked you through coming down from your high, guiding you to breathe with him until you weren't heaving for air anymore. His hold on you didn't falter or shift, pressing kisses along your jaw and collarbone every time he told you to breathe in. "I love you, sweet mortal," he whispered against your skin.
You thought that you'd begun to settle into a quiet, almost peaceful moment between you and the god, only for your heart to start beating rapidly again when you came to the realization that he was still inside you. And he'd started that deliriously slow pace once more. "Loki…" his name came out of you in a near breathless whimper.
"You didn't think we were finished for tonight, did you, my love?" He lifted you away from the wall once more, giving you a devious grin when he started making his way to your bedroom again. "Darling, we've only just begun."
"Agent Y/L/N, your presence at the breakfast table is being requested by Agent Romanoff," FRIDAY's voice filled your apartment.
"Tell her I'll be down in a minute," you answered back, moving around your wardrobe and working your legs into a pair of black tights. It was a touch more distracting to go about your usual morning routine this time around, considering the very amused and very naked god laying on his side on your bed, watching your every movement with a mix of lust and amusement.
"You know, darling, if my memory serves me right, it does not usually take you this long to ready yourself in the mornings," he quipped, a knowing smirk on that devastatingly handsome face of his.
"Like you actually know how long it takes me," you shot back, playfully rolling your eyes at him.
"Actually, I do." In a few moments, he made his way up and out of your bed and crossed the distance between you in long, measured strides. When you looked back at your reflection in the mirror, he was already behind you, lips hovering by your ear, large hands gripping your hips. "By the time the kitchen staff is finished setting up the breakfast spread, you would already be at the top of the stairs that lead to the common room. You would ask for that overly sweet energy drink, and pout when you are handed a cup of coffee instead. Not once has Agent Romanoff had to request for your presence, until this morning."
"You got one thing wrong, Mischief." You turned around in his arms, briefly touching the tip of your nose to his. "Sometimes I actually do get my energy drink in the morning."
"Because I pilfer a can from the pantry and place it at the front of the refrigerator for you to find."
You didn't bother to hide your surprise at his seemingly casual statement. "Hang on, those cans were freezing."
He gave you a soft smile before simply answering, "Frost giant."
You couldn't find any words. How could you, after having him tell you just one of the seemingly small and silent gestures he'd been doing in just the last few months? And from the look in his eyes, you would soon come to discover there were more? All you could do was stand at the tips of your toes, throw your arms around his neck and place a soft kiss on his lips.
"The only reason it's taking me so long today is that there's a…rather compelling distraction that's been trying to pull me back into bed, you know."
Loki broke out into a chuckle, wrapping his arms around you before lifting you up, making you wrap your legs around his waist. With a wave of his hand he was fully clothed, donning a black long-sleeved henley, and dark emerald lounge pants. And then he replaced the t-shirt you chose this morning with a noticeably more luxurious silky lounge shirt in a matching shade of green. "To replace the one that lies in shreds by your door."
He didn't set you back down on your feet. Instead, he chose to walk out of your apartment just like that, holding you steady in his arms, matching face-splitting grins on your faces when sounds of the team's reactions began to hit your ears.
"Well it's about fucking time," Sam spoke up, hooting and hollering at the display before him.
"Put her down, Reindeer Games. People are trying to eat here." Stark.
You and the god exchanged a look, giving each other a quick kiss before he finally put you back down on the ground, and you took a seat next to Nat. One look through the kitchen area and you found Thor, looking at the scene before him with a wide grin on his face the second he clocked your shirt.
"Now I'm in a courtship with your brother, Barbie."
A/N: Well hey there, besties & fellow whores! Been a while…and I think enough time has passed where I'm finally at a place where I can talk about it without breaking down and spiraling. Last month my laptop got hacked and they were able to take one of my drive accounts that contained about over a decade's worth of my memories. I'm never gonna get those back, but managed to salvage a couple chunks of those years, so not everything is lost, but a majority of it is 🫠
The only somewhat "bright side" to come out of this is that at this point my whoring brain has come back and wants to write a self-indulgent piece involving a certain hotel manager that's gonna step in and make it all better 😏
Anyways, onto making new memories and all that 🫡
Ohh and also yes I am fully aware that 2025 was last year but this was among the planned stories for Kinktober 2025, so I'm rolling with it
Okay I feel like I have to send you one more. This time for Daryl Dixon and Starships "we built this city"
Daryl x We Built This City
Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader
▶️ part of the lyric-drabble-mania (3k followers celebration)
▶️ word count: 1612
▶️ warnings: established relationship, fluff
Sidenote: Reader has ADHD - I really hope I got this right. Pls go easy on me.
▶️ lyric-drabble-mania 80s & 90s special masterlist °☆• Daryl masterlist
divider by @cafekitsune <3
Your hand was snugly wrapped in Daryl's hand as the both of you explored the Commonwealth together. You had merely arrived a day ago. Properly arrived - after the whole safety protocol stuff all of you had to go through. But now you had made it; with the keys to your very own - although quite shabby shared apartment. That was hopefully going to change once you and your partner managed to make enough money to move into a better one. And not just that. You both had to bring food on the table for Jude, RJ and Dog as well...
"This is nuts," you stated; almost overwhelmed. Daryl nodded with a grunt. "Feels like it ain't real. Dunno if I like this... game. Pretendin' tha' the world outside ain't dangerous and real." "Yeah... I get what you mean and- Oh my gosh!" You cut off your own sentence; suddenly buzzing with excitement. "A music store!" The archer followed your gaze; having to almost physically hold you back from just storming off. He knew you acted like a little kid sometimes...
The thought of going to work and all that stuff still sounded so surreal. Just entirely bonkers and absurd. Sure. The Commonwealth wasn't Alexandria, but it was the necessary stopgap you needed. The kids deserved better than what home could offer at the moment.
What the Commonwealth offered, though, was absolutely crazy... Restaurants, bakeries, several different shops ranging from clothes to freaking vases... Ice cream stands, a library, a zoo - hell, even a beauty salon. You felt like a kid in a candy store. Literally, you thought as the two of you just passed a, well... Candy store.
"You must be Y/N, right?" She spoke in a excited, happy voice; pointing at you. "And that means you must be Daryl." Princess pointed at the archer, then laughed brightly; putting her hands on her hips. "Man, it's so awesome to get to know you guys. Eugene told me all about you! You two are so cute together." You giggled; a little giddy. You couldn't lie... You loved the happy, positive energy radiating from her. "Yep, that's right. And you must be Princess. Eugene told us all about you, too."
"Can we look inside? Please, please, please?" You asked your long-term boyfriend; excitedly rocking up and down on your feet. Daryl barely shrugged his shoulders; endeared by your cute behaviour. "If ya wanna... Sure, why not?" A happy squeak left your lips before you dragged Daryl along with you; over to the music store. Inside, you instantly let go of his hand; looking around in awe. You didn't see so many records in years!
"Oh my god, hi!" A loud but very friendly voice suddenly cut through the quiet air; greeting you two. Your head snapped instantly to the left - landing behind the small counter which served as the checkout. A woman with a bright pink fluffy jacket and purple highlights in her longer dark brown curls was standing behind it; wearing a bright smile. That must be Princess, you thought - according to Eugene's tells. And his friend was also your friend. That's how this group - your big family, worked. Therefore, you couldn't stop yourself from smiling brightly back at her. "Hi!" You said; giving her a small wave. Princess instantly moved; scrambled to get out from behind that counter.
Two kids at a candy store... Great, he thought; suppressing the urge to roll his eyes.
Princess giggled just as excitedly. "That means we're all friends now, right?" You nodded. "Sure!" The woman across from you squealed excitedly and just went in to boldly hug you - something you couldn't help but reciprocate as well.
And Daryl? Daryl stood beside the both of you with his arms crossed over his chest being his stoic, serious and rough self.
He was used to your ADHD and learned how to deal with it perfectly. It was a part of you and he loved every part of you. But Princess was definitely too much for him. Too forward as well.
"All of us, right?" Princess' voice and the feel of a fist slightly hitting his chest caused the archer to focus again. The woman was standing in front of him; fist still raised and a bright smile on her face. "Yeah, wha'ever," Daryl grumbled under his breath and turned to walk out of the store; having a smoke. That woman was too much for him.
Both, you and Princess watched him walk away - and you could instantly see the sad look on her face. "Don't take him too seriously. He just... He's Daryl," you started to explain. "He needs a while to warm up to people. Give him some time." She nodded in understanding. "Okay, yeah, 'course. Got it."
After some small talk, Princess moved to the backroom of the shop; having to sort through new records. You made sure your boyfriend hadn't run off and was still having a smoke, before you started to browse through the several different records. This was your thing. You were positively in music heaven. Daryl just watched you at first from where he stood - even after he had finished his cigarette. His tension loosened up, and a soft, loving smile paved its way on his face.
At some point he decided to join you again and look through the records as well; starting at the other end of the cosy little store.
Gun's 'N Roses, Van Halen, Metallica, Aerosmith - Daryl saw a lot of good stuff. Artists he had long forgotten about. Albums and songs he never thought he would hear ever again - and yet they played in his head; awakening memories of his youth and adulthood until the end of the world.
As Daryl reveled in the past, he suddenly stumbled over a specific record that redirected his mind instantly to you...
'Knee Deep in the Hoopla' by Starship. Your favourite bad. Your favourite song? 'We Built This City'. It was a random thing you had told him back when you started 'dating' - and he remembered.
"Whatcha got there, teddy bear?" In the beginning of your relationship, he'd always roll his eyes when you called him that. By now, he had just accepted his fate. Smiling, he lifted the record for you to see. "Sum'thin' ya definitely gonna like." Your eyes widened, "Starship?" and started to smile brightly. "Wheeee!" You literally jumped over to him and took the record from his hands to marvel at it. The bright shimmer in your eyes was something the archer would never get tired of seeing.
So, once Daryl was officially accepted as a Commonwealth soldier, the first thing he bought with the money he had earned was a record player for Judith and the Starship record for you - making both of his girls happy and fulfilling two wishes. Plus, one was beneficial to the other. Judith wanted to listen to music and you couldn't listen to the album without a record player. A win-win situation.
But as fast as the wave of happiness rolled through you, as quickly was it gone again. Daryl noticed it immediately, ot course; saw the dangerous wobble of your bottom lip. "What is it, sweetheart?" He checked in on you with a soft voice. "Can't buy it... Don't have enough money..."
Some might say it was absolutely stupid to be sad about not being able to afford a freaking record - it was music, nothing more, but for Daryl? It nearly broke his heart seeing you sad; knowing that music was your passion. "'M sorry, sunshine," he whispered, "C'mere?" and offered you a hug - which you instantly accepted. You buried yourself in the bulky man; cuddling him for quite a while. Then you stepped out of his arms and put the record away again. "Let's go home." Daryl sighed; knowing you'd be crestfallen for at least the remaining day and he hated it. He always did. He wanted to see you smile again - and he'd make sure of it.
Daryl had gifted Judith the record player in the morning; right before school and when you were already at work. The girl was beyond happy and he intended to make you just as happy.
The archer had planned to surprise you with the record - and he did. When you came home from work around midday, you opened the door to your shared apartment with 'We Built This City' playing in the background. Your eyes widened as you saw Daryl triumphantly standing beside a record player and your favourite song playing.
There it was again... That beautiful smile.
Your jaw dropped. "No way..." You mumbled; overwhelmed. Daryl smiled, turned the volume down a notch and made his way over to your stunned self. "Surprise, sunshine," he said; big palms gently grabbing your waist. "Ya like it?" You blinked. "L-Like? Daryl, I-... I love it," you stated; happy tears glistening in your eyes. "T-That's... Thank you so much, teddy bear." You let your bag hit the ground in order to wrap your arms around his neck for a hug. Your partner chuckled deeply and embraced you. "Ain't gotta thank me." You shook your head; pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. "Yes, I do," you stated and stood on your tippy-toes to reach his lips for a big, loving kiss. Daryl practically melted in the kiss and pulled you closer against him.
"Thanks, again," you whispered after your lips had parted; palms rubbing over his broad shoulders with a smile. The archer couldn't help the corners of his mouth from twitching upwards as well.
disclaimer: All the lines taken from the songs are not mine. Credits to the artists. I just used the lyrics for the plot, 'atmosphere' and inspiration in these drabbles.
▶️ lyric-drabble-mania 80s & 90s special masterlist °☆• Daryl masterlist
divider by @cafekitsune <3
a/n: Sorry for the delay. I wasn't feeling very well yesterday.
"Okay," you stated and shrugged off your backpack. "We're doing this, or what?" Daryl nodded while chewing on the inside of his bottom lip. Cautiously, he peeked around the corner of the building you were standing behind in one of those small villages you found close to Alexandria. "Gotta be smart 'bout it, though. Still hafta get rid of all these walkers."
Your target was a small gardening shop which was kind of hidden in a side street. Maggie hoped you'd find some more seeds there. Not just the ones in the museum. It was worth a try - and you and the archer volunteered to go on that little mission. The only problem was that the main street was mostly crowded with walkers. The two of you had scouted this place a few times to know what you were dealing with. Of course, you and Daryl could take them all out, but if there was another solution...
You smiled up at your partner as you squatted down to unpack what was in your bag. "Yup, we have to - and we are. I got a plan."
Ten minutes later - after explaining him what you had in mind and the preparations were done, you and Daryl hid behind a van at the other end of the street. If you'd peek around the van, you could see the walkers, the jukebox and of course the side street you had to get to later. "Ready?" The bowman nodded. "Let's try this." You smiled and pressed the button. Since Eugene was a genius, it worked, of course. The jukebox started to play - and the speakers truly turned the street into a dance floor. Literally. Because the first song Eugene chose - for whatever reason, tickled not just the walkers' feet... Your feet as well.
The archer crossed his strong forearms over his broad chest; looking at you a tiny bit suspicious. "Ya got a plan, huh? Why I dun know 'bout it then?" You casually shrugged your shoulders. "'Cause I thought you would either not like it or not agree to do it." He scoffed. "Jus' spit it out, woman." You smiled up at him - and lifted a small jukebox with a pair of speakers out of your backpack. Daryl frowned at you.
"Music?" "Mhm," you nodded proudly. "Eugene prepared this for me. All I have to do is press that button on this remote. Don't ask me how, though. I have absolutely no idea how he managed to do that," you explained; bringing forth a small remote. "We're gonna turn this street into a dance floor." Your partner scoffed again but couldn't prevent the right corner of his mouth from lifting up into a small smile. "'Course you'd do that. You 'n yer crazy ideas," he said; shaking his head. "'Kay, let's try it." Your smile even widened at his words. "Really? You agree to that? To a distraction through a jukebox?" "If it works...," he shrugged his shoulders. "'N it can work. Did before, so... Why 'r ya so surprised? Could've asked me 'bout this 'fore we left." "Dunno. Just thought you weren't into music." Daryl squatted down to pick up the jukebox to carry it before you could. "Never said that."
'The Way You Make Me Feel' by none other than Michael Jackson.
That feeling spread throughout your whole body. It started with you tapping your feet. Then bobbing your head in time of the beat - and barely a minute later, you were full on dancing. Daryl frowned at you from where he was leaning against the van. "Wha' are ya doin'?" He asked confused, but you just smiled; deciding to embrace this joyous, happy feeling and let the music swallow you whole - just in time for the refrain to hit.
"The way you make me feel," you started to sing; voice swallowed by the loud music but Daryl could hear you anyway. "You really turn me on," you pointed at the man across from you, "You knock me off of my feet." which 'cause him to scoff - but he also couldn't wipe the smile off his lips. "My lonely days are gone." He shook his head; amused and also a little embarrassed. "Yer such a goofball."
You just nodded with a giggle and continued your performance; moving your feet and shaking your hips. "I like this feelin' you're givin' me," you belted out the lyrics and pointed at him once again, "Just hold me, baby, and I'm in ecstasy." before you dramatically threw yourself against your boyfriend; back against his chest. "Oh, I'll be workin' from nine to five to buy you things to keep you by my side." You took his arms and wrapped them around your waist; still swaying with the beat.
And Daryl? He just grunted but was also kind of grateful that you couldn't see the blush on his face in that moment.
"I never felt so in love before," you sang and turned around - and to your slight surprise stayed his arms wrapped around you. "Just promise, baby, you'll love me forevermore," you looked deep into his beautiful blue eyes; palms splayed on his sides. The archer huffed out a small laugh. "'M gonna, sunshine. Ain't no way I stop lovin' ya," he stated; 'playing along' - and you smiled while you continued to sing alongside Michael. "I'm keepin' you satisfied 'cause you're the one for me."
You 'freed' yourself from his embrace again but took his hand instead. "The way you make me feel," you intertwined your fingers, "You really turn me on." and placed your other hand on his chest to seductively run it down his pectorals and belly until you reached his belt. "You knock me off of my feet now, baby," you dramatically swayed backwards; performing passionately. "My lonely days are gone!"
In that small timeframe you gave the archer, Daryl moved to peek around the van; checking the walker situation.
"Gon', boy! Gon'!" You changed the lyrics; trying to motivate him to join you. "Hee hee, ow! Gon', boy!"
But then Daryl strode over to you; shouldering his backpack and crossbow. "C'mon. We gotta go 's long as they're distracted. Road is clear." You gave your boyfriend a pout, which caused him to huff out another small laugh. "I know, sunshine, but we have a mission to accomplish. C'mon." He handed you your backpack as well, alongside your very own crossbow - and leaned in to press a sweet kiss against your lips. You instantly melted into him with a smile. "I really really love you very much," you whispered then; giving him a loving look. Daryl smiled - that smile only reserved for you. "I know. Love ya very much, too. Ain't ever loved 'nother person that much," he said; pecking your lips and walking ahead. "'S jus' the way ya make me feel."
You watched him for a moment; a girlish giggle escaping your lips, and followed him.
disclaimer: All the lines taken from the songs are not mine. Credits to the artists. I just used the lyrics for the plot, 'atmosphere' and inspiration in these drabbles.