♡ When Pope Doesn’t Want To Hit You During Sex..

Frank Castle with the smut prompt

“Please don’t stop”

But it’s him saying it instead of the reader 👀

Love your work btw

A/n: okay I'm actually really proud of this one. Although it did not go the originally planned way. Thank you for requesting anon and I hope you enjoy! 18+ minors dni (f! reader)

He gets lost in you. You blur his thoughts, tear him away from the world, get him drunk on your smell and touch.

You’re so pretty on top of him, eyebrows furrowed and bottom lip drawn between your teeth. Your hands drag across his skin, electricity running through his veins and nerves, sparking under the faintest of your touch. But when you let your nails slide across his flesh he can’t help the shiver that tingles up his spine, skin turning red and goosebumps rising under your wake.

He can’t tear his eyes away from you.

They stay locked on you, trained on you with such intensity and adoration. They trail across your form, taking in every curve, every dip, every blemish. It makes his heart swell, blossom with tender care, makes his hands ache with the need to touch you, his cock fill out impossibly harder.

He doesn’t understand how you could ever see any imperfection in your form. It hurts him when he finds you in front of the closet mirror, hands drifting across your skin with hesitation, eyes full of disgust, lips downturned in sorrow.

He wishes he could do more than firmly embrace you, do more than tell you how beautiful you are, do more than watch helplessly as you assure him you’re alright when he can clearly see you’re not.

 I love you so much, but why can’t you see it?

He wishes he could show you how you’re the prettiest girl. He wishes he could put name to and tell you the emotions that swell in him. He wishes you could see yourself with his eyes.

Especially right now.

Your hips slowly roll down on him, moving along with him, movements coated in sugary honey. Mouth open, lips plush from his previous kisses, Jesus Christ I want to kiss them again. Your chest expanding and falling with each breath, each moan you let out. It’s a lewd melody that mixes with the harmony of your cunt greedily- wetly sliding along him. Your eyes are shut, closed in bliss and ecstasy. Lashes fluttering and dewy as your nerves feel ignited and fiery.

You’re the epitome of sin.

Your tits bounce and heave as you move against him, nipples erect and begging for him to put his mouth on them, run his tongue along the hardened peaks, lightly nip and draw out gasps from you as your hands find and grasp the back of his head.

His hands grab your hips, relishing in the pliant flesh of them, the softness that is so unlike the callosus on his fingers. It makes his head swirl with the primal instinct to protect you, to never let any harm come to you. A flame sparking in his soul, one that is a confusing mix of emotions and feelings. Ones he knows and can name as adoration, care, lust, want, worry, fright, but others that puzzle him and keep him up at night.

But two things keep him sane. Two pieces of information that make him feel like he’s found the meaning to life, cracked the old troubling code that philosophers have been plagued with for centuries.

He loves you. And you love him.

You make his heart race, beat skipping a few pumps. Those two statements keep him tethered to the Earth, give him a reason to keep fighting, to keep living. He’s fallen head over heels for you.

The skin of his groin is shiny, matching the way your inner thighs gleam in the light with your slick. It’s dazzling, a sight he sears into his mind, one he will never let go. And it’s captivating when your cunt spasms, your body seizing as you cum, spurting out and soaking him in your release.

Fuck that’s a sight.

He’s tempted to pull you up to his mouth, let you sit atop his jaw and let him lick you clean. To completely worship you as you beg and whine and mewl and holy fuck I can’t think. But he can feel your heartbeat running rampant and his own speeds up to meet your pace. He starts moving his hips, unconsciously at first, caught in a need to pleasure you.

Your eyelids slide open, letting you gaze down at him. His breath hitches as you meet his eyes, his heart skips a beat, his hips stutter. He’s completely tangled in your spell, soul bound to yours as emotion fills his body.

It crashes over him like waves against a cliffside, big swells of love rushing and surging through him. It’s overwhelming and addicting and and and

Please don’t stop.

He’s not sure if he actually says it or what he’s asking of you. But when you dip down and press your lips to his own, the feeling only grows. And through some unspoken bond he can tell, knows that you are feeling the same thing, that you understand the uncontrollable, irresistible, raw intimacy and love.

When you pull back to catch your breath he finds that he chases you, craves you even after only a second of loss.

“Please don’t stop.”

He says it soft and barely audible, voice cracking under the intensity, the unrestrained devotion.

Don’t stop kissing me. Don’t stop touching me. Don’t stop loving me.

He feels like he could cry. Like if he’s not completely engulfed in you, he’ll perish. You’re his life, his world, his everything. Your soul reaches out to his own, echoing the same things through his head, reassuring his fears and insecurities and wounds. A mantra of promises.

I won’t. I won’t. I won’t.

blurb concept with steve harrington. [ GAZE ] our muses are having sex in missionary and the one on the bottom tells them to slow down so they can just look at them for a few moments.

requested by @stardustmunson ᰔ

steve was in a rhythm, his body perfectly melding with yours with each jut of his hips, filling you right to the brim. there wasn't a beat that he was missing, hitting all the right spots as his tongue rolled across the cherubs of your breasts.

he leans back up, staring down at you now as his hair falls idly around his face. the lights were dim, but the moonlight from outside was dancing across his features.

god, he was beautiful.

you could feel the coil in the pit of your tummy building, wanting to bend and break, but seeing steve like this was something special. you were the only one that got to see him like this. vulnerable, needing, craving the feeling of being inside you.

you didn't want this moment to end.

"steve," you moan his name, but he thinks nothing of it. you always said his name while he was buried deep inside you and he loved it. "steve... slow down, baby."

it was evident by the way his eyes widened that he thought something was wrong and immediately stops thrusting, "i-i'm not hurting you, am i?"

"no, no, no," you brush the chocolate curls out of his face as best you can, letting your hand linger on his cheek, "you're not hurting me. i just - i want to look at you for a bit longer."

the corner of his mouth tugs up into a smirk, "in that case... is this slow enough?" he pushes himself into you at an almost torturous pace, pulling a moan from deep within you, and chuckles at your reaction.

raw. absolutely raw. next question.

❛ THE POGUES INTERRUPTING YOU AND RAFE MID-FUCK ❜

girlfriend¡reader . . . rafe cameron

The room was a haze of heat and shadows, the air thick with the musky scent of sex and the rhythmic creak of the bedframe. Rafe Cameron’s powerful body hovered over you, his skin slick with sweat, muscles rippling under the dim glow of a flickering bedside lamp.

His hands were everywhere—gripping, claiming, possessive. One hand pinned both of your wrists above your head, his fingers tight enough to bruise, while the other roamed your body, sliding from your throat to your breast, squeezing the soft flesh until you gasped.

His hips slammed into yours with a punishing rhythm, each thrust deep and unrelenting, his cock filling you completely, stretching you in a way that made your entire body shudder with pleasure.

Your thighs were splayed wide, trembling as they hooked around his waist, your heels digging into the taut muscles of his lower back, urging him deeper, harder.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Rafe growled, his voice low and gravelly, dripping with raw desire. His blue eyes burned into yours, darkened with lust, his pupils blown wide as he watched your face contort with every thrust.

He shifted his angle, his cock dragging against that sensitive spot inside you, and you cried out, your back arching off the bed, breasts pressing against his chest. The friction of his skin against your hardened nipples sent sparks shooting through you, and you clenched around him, drawing a sharp hiss from his lips.

“That’s it, baby,” he rasped, his breath hot against your ear as he leaned down, his tongue tracing the curve of your jaw before his teeth nipped at your pulse point, hard enough to leave a mark.

Your hands strained against his grip, desperate to touch him, to claw at the corded muscles of his shoulders, but he held you firm, his control absolute. The bed groaned under the force of his movements, the headboard slamming against the wall in time with his hips—thud, thud, thud—a primal beat that echoed the wet, obscene sounds of your bodies colliding.

Your slick arousal coated him, making each thrust smoother, deeper, the slide of his cock inside you almost too much to bear.

Your moans were loud, unrestrained, mingling with his ragged grunts as he fucked you with a ferocity that bordered on desperation, like he was trying to claim every inch of you, to brand you as his.

“Rafe—oh God, please,” you whimpered, your voice breaking as the pleasure built, a tight coil in your core that threatened to snap. Your hips bucked up to meet his, chasing the high, your thighs quivering as his hand slid from your breast to your clit, his thumb circling the sensitive bundle of nerves with ruthless precision.

The added stimulation made you see stars, your head thrashing against the pillow, hair sticking to your sweat-dampened forehead. “I’m so close,” you gasped, your words barely coherent as he drove into you harder, his cock hitting so deep it felt like he was splitting you open.

He groaned at your words, his pace faltering for a split second before he doubled down, his thrusts growing even more brutal, the slap of skin on skin filling the room.

“Come for me,” he demanded, his voice rough, almost feral, as he pressed his thumb harder against your clit, rubbing tight, fast circles that pushed you right to the edge.

Your body tensed, every muscle taut as the orgasm ripped through you, a white-hot wave that made you scream his name, your walls clamping down around him so tightly he cursed under his breath.

Your vision blurred, your body shaking uncontrollably as he fucked you through it, his hips never slowing, prolonging the ecstasy until you were a trembling, panting mess beneath him.

He wasn’t done. Rafe released your wrists, and your hands immediately flew to his back, nails raking down his spine, leaving angry red welts that made him growl in approval. He grabbed your hips with both hands, lifting you slightly off the bed to meet his thrusts, the new angle letting him hit even deeper.

“Fuck, look at you,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to where your bodies joined, watching his cock disappear into your dripping heat with every stroke.

“Taking me so fucking well.” His words sent a fresh wave of arousal through you, and you clenched around him again, your body still sensitive from your climax but greedy for more.

You reached up, tangling your fingers in his sweat-soaked hair, pulling his face down to yours. His lips crashed against yours, the kiss messy and hungry, all teeth and tongue, his stubble scraping your chin as he devoured you.

You could taste the salt of his sweat, the faint tang of whiskey on his breath, and it only made you want him more. Your tongue slid against his, matching his intensity, and he moaned into your mouth, the sound vibrating through you as he thrust harder, his balls slapping against your ass with every movement.

The world was nothing but Rafe—his weight pressing you into the mattress, his scent filling your lungs, his cock driving into you with a relentless, almost punishing force.

You were so lost in him, in the heat and the pleasure and the way he owned every part of you, that you didn’t hear the footsteps outside the door, didn’t register the voices until it was too late.

The door burst open with a loud crash, the knob hitting the wall, and the Pogues spilled into the room, their laughter and chatter cutting off abruptly as they froze, taking in the scene.

JJ was the first to react, his beer bottle slipping from his hand and hitting the floor with a dull thud. “Holy fuck! Are you kidding me?!” he shouted, his eyes wide with a mix of shock and disgust, though a smirk was already curling his lips.

Rafe stilled instantly, his cock still buried deep inside you, his body tense as he whipped his head toward the intruders.

His hands tightened on your hips, possessive, protective, but he didn’t move to cover you, his glare pure venom as he locked eyes with JJ.

Your heart pounded, mortification flooding you as you scrambled to pull the sheet over yourself, but Rafe’s weight kept it pinned beneath you, leaving you exposed and vulnerable under the Pogues’ stares.

John B stood in the doorway, a joint dangling from his fingers, his jaw slack as he muttered, “Dude, what the hell? Ever heard of a lock?” Sarah, next to him, looked like she was trying not to laugh, but her eyes were wide with surprise, her hand half-raised as if to shield her view.

Kiara’s face was a mask of disgust, her arms crossed tightly as she snapped, “This is why we hate you, Cameron. Fucking gross.”

Pope, as usual, was the quiet one, his gaze fixed firmly on the ceiling, his cheeks flushed as he mumbled, “I didn’t sign up for this.”

JJ, never one to let an opportunity slide, leaned against the doorframe, his smirk growing as he took in Rafe’s flushed, sweat-slicked body and your disheveled state.

“Well, shit, Kook king, you’re really givin’ it to her, huh? Didn’t think you had it in you.” His eyes flicked to you, and he winked, his tone dripping with mockery. “You good, princess? Sounds like you’re gettin’ the full Rafe Cameron experience.”

“Get the fuck out, Maybank,” Rafe snarled, his voice low and dangerous, his body still pressed against yours, shielding you as best he could without moving.

His cock twitched inside you, and you bit your lip to stifle a gasp, the sensation sending a confusing mix of arousal and embarrassment through you. The tension in the room was electric, the hatred between Rafe and the Pogues crackling like a live wire.

You tried to speak, your voice shaky and breathless. “Guys, just—go. Please.”

Your cheeks burned, your body still humming from the intensity of Rafe’s touch, and the last thing you needed was JJ’s smartass commentary or Kiara’s judgmental glare.

Sarah was the first to move, grabbing JJ’s arm and yanking him back. “Let’s go, idiots,” she said, her voice firm but laced with amusement.

“They’re clearly… busy.” John B snorted, already turning to leave, while Kiara shot one last disgusted look at Rafe before following. Pope practically bolted, muttering something about “needing bleach for his eyes.”

JJ lingered, his grin wicked as he pointed at Rafe. “Don’t let us stop you, Cameron. Keep fuckin’ up her world.” He dodged the shoe Rafe hurled at him, laughing as he finally backed out, slamming the door shut behind him.

The second the door closed, Rafe’s lips were on yours again, his kiss fierce and possessive, like he was trying to erase the Pogues’ intrusion from both your minds.

“Fucking Pogues,” he growled against your mouth, his hips snapping forward, thrusting into you with renewed intensity.

You moaned, the sudden movement catching you off guard, your body arching into his as he picked up where he left off, his cock driving into you with a force that made your breath hitch.

“Let’s make sure they hear you this time,” he whispered, his voice dark and dangerous, his hands gripping your hips as he fucked you harder, faster, the bed creaking loudly beneath you.

You clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders, your body already climbing toward another release as the world outside faded away, leaving only Rafe and the overwhelming pleasure he gave you.

𓂅 taglist ― @littlelamy @dollyfiles @drewstarkeyswife0 @icaqttt @urcoolgf @camercns @pointocean @dsfault

return home ⸝⸝

©RAFESGREASYCURTAINBANGS ꪆৎ est. 2025

❛ THE POGUES INTERRUPTING YOU AND RAFE MID-FUCK ❜

girlfriend¡reader . . . rafe cameron

The room was a haze of heat and shadows, the air thick with the musky scent of sex and the rhythmic creak of the bedframe. Rafe Cameron’s powerful body hovered over you, his skin slick with sweat, muscles rippling under the dim glow of a flickering bedside lamp.

His hands were everywhere—gripping, claiming, possessive. One hand pinned both of your wrists above your head, his fingers tight enough to bruise, while the other roamed your body, sliding from your throat to your breast, squeezing the soft flesh until you gasped.

His hips slammed into yours with a punishing rhythm, each thrust deep and unrelenting, his cock filling you completely, stretching you in a way that made your entire body shudder with pleasure.

Your thighs were splayed wide, trembling as they hooked around his waist, your heels digging into the taut muscles of his lower back, urging him deeper, harder.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Rafe growled, his voice low and gravelly, dripping with raw desire. His blue eyes burned into yours, darkened with lust, his pupils blown wide as he watched your face contort with every thrust.

He shifted his angle, his cock dragging against that sensitive spot inside you, and you cried out, your back arching off the bed, breasts pressing against his chest. The friction of his skin against your hardened nipples sent sparks shooting through you, and you clenched around him, drawing a sharp hiss from his lips.

“That’s it, baby,” he rasped, his breath hot against your ear as he leaned down, his tongue tracing the curve of your jaw before his teeth nipped at your pulse point, hard enough to leave a mark.

Your hands strained against his grip, desperate to touch him, to claw at the corded muscles of his shoulders, but he held you firm, his control absolute. The bed groaned under the force of his movements, the headboard slamming against the wall in time with his hips—thud, thud, thud—a primal beat that echoed the wet, obscene sounds of your bodies colliding.

Your slick arousal coated him, making each thrust smoother, deeper, the slide of his cock inside you almost too much to bear.

Your moans were loud, unrestrained, mingling with his ragged grunts as he fucked you with a ferocity that bordered on desperation, like he was trying to claim every inch of you, to brand you as his.

“Rafe—oh God, please,” you whimpered, your voice breaking as the pleasure built, a tight coil in your core that threatened to snap. Your hips bucked up to meet his, chasing the high, your thighs quivering as his hand slid from your breast to your clit, his thumb circling the sensitive bundle of nerves with ruthless precision.

The added stimulation made you see stars, your head thrashing against the pillow, hair sticking to your sweat-dampened forehead. “I’m so close,” you gasped, your words barely coherent as he drove into you harder, his cock hitting so deep it felt like he was splitting you open.

He groaned at your words, his pace faltering for a split second before he doubled down, his thrusts growing even more brutal, the slap of skin on skin filling the room.

“Come for me,” he demanded, his voice rough, almost feral, as he pressed his thumb harder against your clit, rubbing tight, fast circles that pushed you right to the edge.

Your body tensed, every muscle taut as the orgasm ripped through you, a white-hot wave that made you scream his name, your walls clamping down around him so tightly he cursed under his breath.

Your vision blurred, your body shaking uncontrollably as he fucked you through it, his hips never slowing, prolonging the ecstasy until you were a trembling, panting mess beneath him.

He wasn’t done. Rafe released your wrists, and your hands immediately flew to his back, nails raking down his spine, leaving angry red welts that made him growl in approval. He grabbed your hips with both hands, lifting you slightly off the bed to meet his thrusts, the new angle letting him hit even deeper.

“Fuck, look at you,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to where your bodies joined, watching his cock disappear into your dripping heat with every stroke.

“Taking me so fucking well.” His words sent a fresh wave of arousal through you, and you clenched around him again, your body still sensitive from your climax but greedy for more.

You reached up, tangling your fingers in his sweat-soaked hair, pulling his face down to yours. His lips crashed against yours, the kiss messy and hungry, all teeth and tongue, his stubble scraping your chin as he devoured you.

You could taste the salt of his sweat, the faint tang of whiskey on his breath, and it only made you want him more. Your tongue slid against his, matching his intensity, and he moaned into your mouth, the sound vibrating through you as he thrust harder, his balls slapping against your ass with every movement.

The world was nothing but Rafe—his weight pressing you into the mattress, his scent filling your lungs, his cock driving into you with a relentless, almost punishing force.

You were so lost in him, in the heat and the pleasure and the way he owned every part of you, that you didn’t hear the footsteps outside the door, didn’t register the voices until it was too late.

The door burst open with a loud crash, the knob hitting the wall, and the Pogues spilled into the room, their laughter and chatter cutting off abruptly as they froze, taking in the scene.

JJ was the first to react, his beer bottle slipping from his hand and hitting the floor with a dull thud. “Holy fuck! Are you kidding me?!” he shouted, his eyes wide with a mix of shock and disgust, though a smirk was already curling his lips.

Rafe stilled instantly, his cock still buried deep inside you, his body tense as he whipped his head toward the intruders.

His hands tightened on your hips, possessive, protective, but he didn’t move to cover you, his glare pure venom as he locked eyes with JJ.

Your heart pounded, mortification flooding you as you scrambled to pull the sheet over yourself, but Rafe’s weight kept it pinned beneath you, leaving you exposed and vulnerable under the Pogues’ stares.

John B stood in the doorway, a joint dangling from his fingers, his jaw slack as he muttered, “Dude, what the hell? Ever heard of a lock?” Sarah, next to him, looked like she was trying not to laugh, but her eyes were wide with surprise, her hand half-raised as if to shield her view.

Kiara’s face was a mask of disgust, her arms crossed tightly as she snapped, “This is why we hate you, Cameron. Fucking gross.”

Pope, as usual, was the quiet one, his gaze fixed firmly on the ceiling, his cheeks flushed as he mumbled, “I didn’t sign up for this.”

JJ, never one to let an opportunity slide, leaned against the doorframe, his smirk growing as he took in Rafe’s flushed, sweat-slicked body and your disheveled state.

“Well, shit, Kook king, you’re really givin’ it to her, huh? Didn’t think you had it in you.” His eyes flicked to you, and he winked, his tone dripping with mockery. “You good, princess? Sounds like you’re gettin’ the full Rafe Cameron experience.”

“Get the fuck out, Maybank,” Rafe snarled, his voice low and dangerous, his body still pressed against yours, shielding you as best he could without moving.

His cock twitched inside you, and you bit your lip to stifle a gasp, the sensation sending a confusing mix of arousal and embarrassment through you. The tension in the room was electric, the hatred between Rafe and the Pogues crackling like a live wire.

You tried to speak, your voice shaky and breathless. “Guys, just—go. Please.”

Your cheeks burned, your body still humming from the intensity of Rafe’s touch, and the last thing you needed was JJ’s smartass commentary or Kiara’s judgmental glare.

Sarah was the first to move, grabbing JJ’s arm and yanking him back. “Let’s go, idiots,” she said, her voice firm but laced with amusement.

“They’re clearly… busy.” John B snorted, already turning to leave, while Kiara shot one last disgusted look at Rafe before following. Pope practically bolted, muttering something about “needing bleach for his eyes.”

JJ lingered, his grin wicked as he pointed at Rafe. “Don’t let us stop you, Cameron. Keep fuckin’ up her world.” He dodged the shoe Rafe hurled at him, laughing as he finally backed out, slamming the door shut behind him.

The second the door closed, Rafe’s lips were on yours again, his kiss fierce and possessive, like he was trying to erase the Pogues’ intrusion from both your minds.

“Fucking Pogues,” he growled against your mouth, his hips snapping forward, thrusting into you with renewed intensity.

You moaned, the sudden movement catching you off guard, your body arching into his as he picked up where he left off, his cock driving into you with a force that made your breath hitch.

“Let’s make sure they hear you this time,” he whispered, his voice dark and dangerous, his hands gripping your hips as he fucked you harder, faster, the bed creaking loudly beneath you.

You clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders, your body already climbing toward another release as the world outside faded away, leaving only Rafe and the overwhelming pleasure he gave you.

𓂅 taglist ― @littlelamy @dollyfiles @drewstarkeyswife0 @icaqttt @urcoolgf @camercns @pointocean @dsfault

return home ⸝⸝

©RAFESGREASYCURTAINBANGS ꪆৎ est. 2025

I just loveeeee the sincerity of conversations after sex or during the sex

like after sex you are lying there trying to breathe properly and he comes out of the bathroom with a towel in hand and casually goes just as he wipes the cum off your ass

"did ya see the video?"

"what video?"

"two muppets got caught sneaking up a phone in base. price got 'em real good. smashed their head into each otha when they were broadcasting. i don't know-it's instagram or somthin'."

you nod enthusiastically and snort "soap sent to me. was too violent for me to watch. he thinks it was funny though."

he chuckles just as he strokes the redness on your ass. "you handle violent just fine"

or like you are in the middle of it, bouncing on him with all you've got and he says

"i don't like it when you don't call."

and you just freeze because what the hell he could have had this conversation around the time when he decided to watch football. so you ask, trying to comprehend.

"what?"

he simply shrugs and tightens his arms around you.

"makes me sad when you don't call."

"i-i don't know what to say."

"can't say hi?"

and it makes you wonder what happened to the man you fucked in the early days of your not-a-relationship-just-fucking thing because ghost didn't even moan let alone talking.

this one is simon you suppose.

sorry, wish my english was better and i knew anything about english accent. 😭

I love dad bods 🥰

do you see of the Rafe’s in your AU’s having dad bods?

okay okay okay

blue!collar!rafe scc!rafe boxer!rafe

sexist!rafe ex!husband!rafe military!rafe

Bro…I’m dead

Sweet Dreams

daryl x fem!reader

Warnings: smut, sleepy/subby reader, thigh riding, overstimulation, crying (from pleasure), soft dom Daryl, lots of praise, aftercare, tenderness, use of pet names (good girl, baby, i think sweet girl i forgot)

⸻

The night was quiet. Crickets chirped low outside, and the wind creaked against the windows. Daryl lay still in bed, one arm slung across your waist, the slow rhythm of your breathing brushing over his bare chest. You were warm, curled up next to him, dead asleep… or so he thought.

Until he felt it.

A tiny shift at first. Then again. The slide of your hips against his thigh.

His eyes shot open.

“…Baby?”

He whispered it low, voice still thick with sleep. He felt your body shudder faintly in his arms—your breathing shaky now, your forehead pressed into his shoulder, your fingers gripping at his side.

He blinked a few times, brain struggling to register what the hell was going on.

And then it hit him.

You were riding his thigh. In your sleep. Little, slow, desperate rolls of your hips, your panties damp against his bare skin. Fuck. His whole body tensed, but not in shock. He had to grit his teeth to keep himself still, watching your face crumple into the softest pout.

You were whimpering. Not sad. Needy.

His poor girl, dreaming about him and chasing it in your sleep.

Daryl’s hand trailed slowly up your back, petting gently, his lips brushing your temple as he murmured, “Sweetheart… that what you need, huh?”

You didn’t wake. Just kept going, a little faster now, your thighs trembling from the effort. He could feel the heat soaking through his thigh and it made his cock twitch in his boxers.

He couldn’t help it, he lifted his leg just a little, angling it right where you needed, guiding your hips with one hand.

“There ya go baby… that better?” he whispered, pressing kisses into your hair. “Get yourself off, darlin’. Use me however you want…”

You whimpered again, one broken little sob of need, and your fingers clawed into his chest.

Then you gasped.

Eyes fluttered open—wide and glossy—and you froze. Cheeks burning. You were mortified.

“D-Daryl—wait, I—I didn’t mean to—” You were panting, dazed and shaky, but too close now to stop. “I—fuck—I was so close—”

Daryl cut you off with a soft hush, cupping your cheek.

“I know, baby. S’okay. You ain’t gotta stop now.” He sat up just enough to hold you better, dragging your hips forward. “Let me help you finish, yeah? You were doin’ so good without me, but I gotcha now…”

You whined at the contact, body jerking forward as his hands gripped your hips and started rocking you against his thigh again, this time rougher—deeper.

“Daryl—please,” you choked, tears welling in your eyes from how fucking close you were again already.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Rub that needy little pussy all over me,” he muttered, nose buried in your neck. “Take what you need. Make a mess on me.”

That was it.

You shattered.

Your whole body locked up, back arching as the orgasm hit, soaking through your panties, your cries muffled into his shoulder while your thighs shook around him.

“There ya go, baby,” he praised, holding you through it. “Such a good girl… makin’ a mess for me, just like that…”

You sobbed softly, overwhelmed, heart racing.

Daryl held you close, gently easing your spent body down into the sheets. He kissed your face, your cheeks, your lips, every tear. His fingers brushed your hair back.

“You okay?” he asked, voice low.

You nodded, sniffling. “Mhm… sorry…”

“Nah,” he whispered. “Don’t be. You can use me anytime you want, baby. I’ll always take care’a ya.”

He tucked you into his chest, thigh still slick where you’d ridden it, and hummed against your forehead.

Within seconds, you were already asleep again.

And Daryl just smiled.

“Goodnight,” he muttered, pulling the blanket up around you both.

⸻

a/n i have two more daryl smuts sitting in my drafts should i post them guys erm

”I never see you in the club” I never see you having violent meltdowns alone in your room and hitting yourself but ok

"get a load of this guy"

IM TRYING????