Daryl Dixon Smut - Tumblr Posts
premiumcable || masterlist
Rick Grimes x Reader
Daryl Dixon x Reader
Carl Grimes x Reader
Negan x Reader
Masterlist
RICK X READER
make up sex
angst
romantic smut
very fluffy rick
first time
rough sex
daddy kink
smuttttt
rick x reader x daryl
hot and bothered
Get on your knees!
Daddy
DARYL X READER
daryl comforts reader after line-up with Negan
Jealous
romantic daryl smut
fuck buddies
fuck buddies part two
angst and fluff
jealous, protective and angry daryl
heart break very angsty
sad angst
death- angst
S7E8 reunion
videogames
cause once upon a time you were my everything
we understand each other
the blackest day
angst and smut
You promise? I promise. part one part two part three
I surrender
Broken
S7EP12
The Beginning of The End of The World
One Mississipi
Cheater
Abuse part one / part two
The Sheriffs Daughter
Rescue
Stop Pushing Me Away
Scars
The Night We Met
SHANE X READER
smut during target practice
smut at the CDC with some fluff
smut in tent with some fluff
cute reunion fluff
smut
MERLE X READER
you might just be the goddamn death of me part one
you might just be the goddamn death of me part two
merle fluff-reader has a nightmare
smut
angst and fluff
The dixons
fluff
more merle smut
CARL X READER
first time together
dominant reader
Pregnant
Negan
Rick x reader x Negan
Negan x Reader x Daryl
Death at Birth
OTHERS
reader is ricks younger sister and has a drug problem /// part two
rick is your father, family reunion
family reunion part two
reunited with the group at the line-up //// part two
maggie and glenn try to protect you (their daughter) from Negan
dealing with Glenns death
Rick saves negans life
premiumcable || masterlist
Rick Grimes x Reader
Daryl Dixon x Reader
Carl Grimes x Reader
Negan x Reader
Masterlist
RICK X READER
make up sex
angst
romantic smut
very fluffy rick
first time
rough sex
daddy kink
smuttttt
rick x reader x daryl
hot and bothered
Get on your knees!
Daddy
DARYL X READER
daryl comforts reader after line-up with Negan
Jealous
romantic daryl smut
fuck buddies
fuck buddies part two
angst and fluff
jealous, protective and angry daryl
heart break very angsty
sad angst
death- angst
S7E8 reunion
videogames
cause once upon a time you were my everything
we understand each other
the blackest day
angst and smut
You promise? I promise. part one part two part three
I surrender
Broken
S7EP12
The Beginning of The End of The World
One Mississipi
Cheater
Abuse part one / part two
The Sheriffs Daughter
Rescue
Stop Pushing Me Away
Scars
The Night We Met
SHANE X READER
smut during target practice
smut at the CDC with some fluff
smut in tent with some fluff
cute reunion fluff
smut
MERLE X READER
you might just be the goddamn death of me part one
you might just be the goddamn death of me part two
merle fluff-reader has a nightmare
smut
angst and fluff
The dixons
fluff
more merle smut
CARL X READER
first time together
dominant reader
Pregnant
Negan
Rick x reader x Negan
Negan x Reader x Daryl
Death at Birth
OTHERS
reader is ricks younger sister and has a drug problem /// part two
rick is your father, family reunion
family reunion part two
reunited with the group at the line-up //// part two
maggie and glenn try to protect you (their daughter) from Negan
dealing with Glenns death
Rick saves negans life
Best Served Cold
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader
Summary: Since your fiancé can’t seem to keep his hands off of Lori, you decide Daryl is the perfect way to make him pay. Revenge sex has never felt so good.
Warning: NSFW. Attempted SA. Unprotected p-in-v. I don’t condone cheating (unless it’s on abusers lol). Semi-public sex and getting caught doing it in a tent 🫣 Based on this kickass idea from @dilfsandmartinis (I'm so sorry it took this long for me to post the story) !! 💓
Your man returned to your tent that night like he did most others: slick with sweat and too tired for sex. At least not again, not with you. He would undoubtedly claim to have been checking the perimeter, standing guard like a good leader should, but any blind man in that quarry camp could’ve seen he was just boning Lori.
A lot.
You were really more offended that he thought you stupid enough to abide by his lies than the fact he was fucking someone else. That part wasn’t new—his dick never knew how to stay in one hole longer than a month or two—but in an apocalypse? With his newly-deceased best friend’s widow? That was low, even for Shane.
Which was why you felt no compunction yourself as you slipped quietly from your tent toward the water’s edge that night, pink vibrator clutched tightly in hand.
Useful little thing that it was, a six-setting suction device that worked wonders on your clit, even underwater. You figured since Shane couldn’t be bothered with you or your sexual pleasure so long as the former Mrs. Grimes was occupying his time, you’d make use of this sex toy instead and start really leaning into the “self care” you’d been craving for so long.
The water was warm all the way up to your chest, and the air around you tepid. You moved around, treaded in place, and finally reached comfortable bearings a couple yards from shore. You relished the solitude and silence.
The moment you felt the toy come to life in your hand, you couldn’t help but smile. Exhaling as you brought the tip close to your center.
“Shit.” Even the gentlest setting too harsh on your clit, you nipped your lower lip and bit back a whimper.
You swirled it lightly on your inner thigh, tried painstakingly as ever to acclimate yourself to the buzz of the rubber, but damn were you sensitive. Almost too tender to be touched, too ripe with excitement and aching for the feel of something on you, or in you, or just barely skimming the surface of your skin underwater.
A low moan escaped your lips the second the head drifted back to your clit. Your toes curled into rough, rocky terrain underfoot, and your breaths started to quicken. You made a gentle motion with your hips—a sweet, semi-circular thing you’d been doing over Shane’s lower half as long as you could remember—begging for more friction, needing more of that mechanical hum.
You pressed the button for a higher setting. The peaks of your pleasure soared to new heights.
You were helpless to the trembling of your knees and felt immensely grateful for the water’s aid in keeping you straight. You pressed the rounded tip of the toy even tighter to your core and didn’t heed a thing around you as you sighed several expletives under your breath. A jolt of bliss washed over your body.
Your eyes had just started to close in the first throes of that wild sensation, when a new sound startled you.
“Ya done pissin’ or what?”
You shot a look toward the shore and saw a slightly less-than cheery individual standing at the edge of it, the toes of his boots grazing the incoming waves.
You froze in place. You hardly knew what to say.
“Ain’t safe fer you out here ‘n you know it. Come on.” Daryl beckoned you with one hand and started to turn.
At what point was it appropriate to tell him you were naked?
You thought he could surmise from the fact you were neck-deep in the water and refusing to move that maybe something more was keeping you in. Daryl seemed clueless, however.
“I ain’t got all night, kid,” he snorted, “’f you don’t hurry, Shane an’ the rest of ‘em’ll be out and— ah.”
Ah.
At the last, he stepped on a pile of clothes folded neatly on the shoreline nearby, undergarments and all.
So this wasn’t a midnight swim or a late night piss at all, but a full-blown skinny dip. He should have known you weren’t the bikini type.
Awkwardly, almost begrudgingly, Daryl gathered what clothes of yours he could and chucked them closer to the lake. Then he turned on his heels and stalked up the beach without another word—fuming, it seemed to you. Once averted, though, Daryl’s face betrayed a look of horror. Like a parent who’d just stumbled upon a box of condoms in their daughter’s sock drawer after swearing she was still a virgin.
In the few short weeks since you’d been thrown together in this mess, Daryl had practically taken to you like family. He hated Shane ‘Shit-for-Brains’ Walsh most days, it was true, but the fact that you were you, and times were tough, and nothing seemed to occupy Daryl’s mind quite like the thought of keeping you safe, that he had to keep you close at all times. He just hadn’t imagined your proximity would turn this intimate so suddenly.
“Keep up,” he spoke more sharply than usual. Didn’t even wait for you to dry and dress completely before snagging your hand in his.
You glanced at your taut, hardened nipples poking up through the damp material of your tank top and suddenly wished you’d brought a towel. Or a bra. Your shorts, too, clung to your ass like a second skin and made you feel extra bare before Daryl’s eyes—even if he hadn’t spared a look at you once as you’d traipsed behind him through the woods.
When you tripped, he held you up; when you nearly ate shit over several rocky spots, he carried you over them. His eyes never strayed toward your body, though.
Once you’d made it to the clearing where your group had made camp, Daryl lowered you to the ground and still couldn’t find it within himself to look your way. You shuffled uncomfortably on your feet, now standing inches away from the tent you shared with Shane.
“Thanks for...that,” you said, flatly.
Daryl managed a curt nod.
Before you turned in, you decided to venture a look at Daryl’s chest, and you felt an influx of embarrassment. The taupe-colored cutoff he wore as a shirt was soaked with water. Instinctively, you brushed your fingers over the stain—as if touching it might dry the fabric, or else mask your humiliation at being the cause. You tried not to evince a hint of surprise at how sturdy he felt.
“Shit, I’m sorry, Daryl.”
You hadn’t thought any man was capable of looking more afflicted than Daryl did before, but somehow, incredibly, he appeared even more ill at ease when you touched him. You immediately retracted your hand.
“’S’okay,” he managed. He would’ve given anything not to be where he was, or who he was, at that moment.
Just when another apology leapt to your tongue—feeling even worse that you might’ve crossed a physical boundary you shouldn’t have—a twig snapped close-by.
You and Daryl jumped in your skin. You turned toward the source of the sound.
Shane was tugging his pants into place, pulling the zip up in haphazard fashion as he marched out of the woods.
He’d either been blowing Lori’s back out (again) or off to take a piss in the bushes. By the looks of his dazed and drowsy expression, you guessed it was the latter.
“Got a nice rack, doesn’t she?” Shane observed, careless as ever.
He walked past the two of you and unzipped the tent.
“I was jus—” Daryl started.
“Don’t care,” Shane cut in, “Goodnight.”
You were amazed at the level of nonchalance your fiancé exhibited. On finding you soaked to the bone and touching another man in the middle of the night, the old Shane probably would’ve laid Daryl flat on his ass.
But overprotective, possessive Shane was no more.
Before disappearing into the tent, Shane reached for your elbow. You barely got another glimpse at Daryl as you were ushered inside.
The tent was re-zipped in an instant, and you assumed Daryl would be quick to leave the scene, too.
You turned and saw Shane fumbling to unscrew the lid of his canteen. Taking several big gulps before re-fastening the top, tossing the jug to the side, and letting out a sigh.
“You get a look at the hard-on he had?” Shane chuckled.
You almost choked on your spit.
“What?”
“Pitched a tent in his pants bigger’n this,” he returned, gesturing to the polyester enclosure overhead. Then he got back to his feet, walked over to you, and kept going, in spite of your perplexed expression, “He must really wanna fuck you.”
You blinked up at him, unsure if you were more baffled by Shane’s serene demeanor or the fact that you hadn’t noticed Daryl’s boner. You decided to overlook the erection for the time being.
“And you don’t...care if he did?” Instantly chiding yourself for the twinge of indignation in your tone.
“Nuh-uh,” Shane said. His hands came to rest comfortably on your hips, and he seemed to be hearing your words without really comprehending what you meant. As usual.
If he picked up on the irritation in your voice, he didn’t show it. He just rolled the denim of your shorts between his fingers and pulled you closer.
“This,” he hummed, fingers sinking between your legs, “is not for him.”
And Shane was community dick. Made sense.
You didn’t attempt to conceal your annoyance this time as you rolled your eyes and pushed his hands away.
“Well maybe if Daryl asked nicely…” you trailed off, starting toward the bed.
Shane stopped you before you could. He took a firmer hold of your sides and showed the first real hint of jealousy in his eyes. You were almost glad to see it.
“No,” Shane said, shaking his head. Then, snaking his touch back down your legs—with the fabric of your shorts fisted in his hands this time—he continued amidst your quiet protests.
You were gripping his wrists, trying to keep them from moving any further. But Shane was insistent.
“He wouldn’t get to ask nicely, because I’d blow his fucking brains out before he ever got the—”
“Shane.” You were actively shoving his hands off now. You didn’t mind this envious side coming back to the surface, but you would not, under any circumstance, be Shane’s sloppy seconds the same hour he’d fucked Lori.
“No. You— you smell like—” you cut yourself off before the woman’s name could leave your lips.
“Like what?” Shane snapped. Suddenly intrigued to hear what you had to say.
You tried to wriggle out of his grip, but when you couldn’t, and when he pressed you again, you sputtered some nonsense about his drinking—how he reeked of booze, not Rick’s wife.
“Thought you liked it when I fucked you drunk,” Shane grinned, voice dripping with condescension, “Said it gave me stamina.”
You’d said no such thing. You groaned lightly as Shane managed to pull your panties and shorts, together, to your ankles. When he started to take them off at your feet, he hardly seemed to notice your nails dig in his shoulders, silently begging him to stop.
“Think I should invite Daryl back over? Let him watch me fuck you stupid?” Shane’s mouth was hovering close to your center, hot breaths fanning over your lower half.
In any other situation, you would’ve craved him here: on his knees, ready to suck and lick and dick you down like he always used to do. But things were different now, you had to remind yourself. Apart from the walking dead invading your world, there was no Rick in the picture, no semblance of platonic feelings between his widow and your fiancé—you felt physically sick at the thought of Shane touching you now. You tried to stand the instant he threw you on the bed.
“Shane, I don’t wanna—”
“Fuck? Yeah, I figured,” Shane shrugged as he tried to peel your shirt off your body.
“Then quit,” you hissed. You were starting to fear the fabric might tear if you held on any tighter.
When it seemed evident you weren’t going to give in on the top, Shane let go and turned to his pants instead. Pinning you down with one hand, he unbuckled his belt as you whimpered and pleaded that he stop. The sounds only made the mound in his pants more pronounced.
The two of you had dabbled in CNC before, but this was not that. No safeword, no fallback, no trace of consent between you, and to be frank, you were starting to get scared. The second Shane freed his cock from his boxers, you felt a surge of panic rise to your chest.
“Fuck— STOP!” Without thinking, you jerked your knee.
You hadn’t meant to hit his balls so hard. But you did. And he folded in half, seizing with pain, while you took that as your chance to slide off the bed, slip on your panties—and hightail it the fuck out of there.
Shane’s cries pierced the night air like a blade through rotted flesh. You stumbled, half-blind in the dark, and blazed a reckless path through the tents all around you. Weaving in and out of neighboring spaces, searching desperately for any lone, dim glow of a lantern to tell you someone was awake to hear your pleas if needed. But sadly, no tent was alight but yours, and the entrance to that was presently being torn open once more as Shane staggered out there himself.
“Y/N!” he bellowed.
In your haste, you’d tripped over Glenn’s knapsack. You scraped your knee, scrambled back to your feet, and tried with everything in you not to make a sound as you retreated further from Shane’s voice.
You probably looked feral, weaving in and out of tents with your knee leaking blood and your pupils grown wide with fear. You scampered fast across the rocky campgrounds and made a beeline for the woods.
Until Shane’s footsteps fell heavy mere feet away.
Quickly changing course, you dove for the nearest tent and ripped it open. When you slipped inside, zipped it up, and went crab-walking backward like a panic-stricken animal, you hardly saw much of anything else.
Had your pulse not been pounding in your ears and your gaze not glued to the front of the tent, you likely would’ve gotten a pretty good laugh at the sight behind you.
At the very least, a chuckle or a smile or a slightly sheepish blush would’ve been supplied in a second, seeing someone wide-eyed and holding his cock in a death grip just inches from your rear.
You’d unwittingly scrambled into the tent of a man who’d just been beating his dick off furiously to the thought of you—and there you were, sitting pretty in pure, unadulterated fear for the sight of your fiancé any second now. When you turned your head, your hand flew to your mouth.
“Dar— oh!”
Like before, your heads snapped in the direction of a new sound, quick to sense that it was Shane, and this time, you went crawling over to the archer without a second thought. Hardly noticing his pants were down, you leapt into his lap.
“Y/N—” Shane hissed as he tripped over something outside. You heard a clatter and a bang, the sound of a few curse words sputtered in vain, and a groan. Daryl’s arms snaked around your sides and pulled you closer.
“What’ve ya gone and done this time?” he whispered.
“Told him no,” you murmured back.
You pretended not to feel the singe of Daryl’s gaze boring straight through the side of your head. Then a little lower, to your near-bare lower half and shaking legs. It didn’t take long for him to piece together what had happened.
“Y/N,” Daryl started, far louder than you could bear. You shushed him swiftly, ignoring the flare of anger in his eyes that told you he was currently conjuring up fifty different ways to kill Shane and just aching to act on it.
“Don’t. Please,” you said.
“Did he—”
“No. I...kneed him in the balls before he got the chance.”
“Oh.”
Shane was pacing outside, like he knew you were somewhere close. He called your name every now and then, drew near enough to send you rigid with fear. Then Daryl would hold you tight, stroke your hair, or else just graze his lips on your shoulder to let you know he was there, and eventually, the fright would subside. You nestled yourself into that touch and felt something far kinder than fear for the first time in a long time.
You felt aroused.
Ever more inspired by the sound of Shane stewing, fuming outside within earshot and the nudge of Daryl’s member against your barely-clothed core. Well…you were tempted, to say the least. You just weren’t sure if Daryl would be on board for being your lightning-quick rebound fuck of the night.
You sighed as his hips moved gently against your own.
“You think maybe—” you started.
“Yeah?”
“—you might…tell me what you were doing before I barged in here?”
Even in the dark, you could sense a blush creeping up his neck. You loved to see a man like Daryl flustered.
“Oh, uh, that?” he said in half a chuckle. Glancing down at his groin and going back and forth between two thoughts in his mind, most likely. Tell you the truth or come up with a half-assed lie on the spot.
“Just…jerking off to you.”
He never had been any good at a bluff.
Your face visibly brightened in the dim glow of the tent. You tried not to let your elation get too far ahead of you, though, lest your voice raise above a whisper and draw Shane’s attention.
“Yeah? What about?”
Daryl never thought it possible for a woman’s enthusiasm in a question to turn him on, but yours did. He looked to your lips and swallowed, suddenly at a loss for how to answer.
“I…well…”
“You’re fucking dead to me, Y/N. If you don’t—”
Your fiancé’s voice was as close, and as terrifying, as it had ever been. You eased Daryl onto his back.
“Were you thinking of this?” you teased.
You made that soft semi-circular motion with your hips and watched a brand new face contort with pleasure. The footsteps outside hardly registered in your mind any longer, as your attention was singly focused on Daryl.
He fought a groan in his throat as you grazed your slick heat over his length.
You coated him with your arousal quicker than even you had expected. You knew you were turned on, but never had it been like that, where you were damn near dripping sweet nectar all over a man’s cock. You let a little whine leave your lips.
You couldn’t help it; your cunt rocked back and forth over Daryl’s fat, throbbing cock and made obscene sounds as you did. The archer’s hands found your hips and gently guided you up and down as his own moans struggled to break loose.
You could’ve stayed like that forever, you figured—if you hadn’t been so fucking wet that the head of his cock slipped inside of your heat the second you and Daryl bucked your hips together. An inch was quick to stretch to seven before you could think or blink or do anything else but groan in pleasure, and suddenly, he was bottoming out inside you.
“Fuck!” Daryl hissed.
“Daryl!”
“Daryl?”
Fucking Shane, of all voices you didn’t want to hear in that moment. Fortunately, he’d heard Daryl’s voice alone and not the sound of your moan, calling his name at the same time, for entirely different reasons, it seemed.
Daryl gritted his teeth as you bounced on his cock,
“Yeah?”
“I’m looking for Y/N. You seen her, brother?”
Seen you, felt you, fucked you, yeah—he had.
Daryl closed his eyes and tried not to blow his load on the spot as you squeezed around him.
“No— no, I haven’t. Not since earlier,” he grunted.
“You sure?” Shane pressed, dissatisfied, “I heard her running around this way.”
You braced your knees against the ground and rode the man beneath you even harder, taking every ounce of resentment you felt toward Shane out on Daryl’s cock. Fuck if revenge sex didn’t feel nice when the object of your ire was standing right outside the tent.
You almost wanted to moan, wanted to whimper, but were quick to think better of it the longer you spent moving up and down his length. Seeing shades of lust in his eyes like never before, you just couldn’t bear the thought of having to pry yourself off any time soon.
Daryl sank his fingers into your thighs and sighed, leaving ten perfect crescents in their wake.
“Don’t you fuckin’ stop,” he murmured.
“Could ya— could you come outside and help me look?”
‘Come the fuck on’ seemed to be the silent, shared sentiment between you and Daryl as your bodies writhed fast against each other and your highs came close into view. You braced your hands against his chest and begged him not to answer with your eyes, but you also knew Daryl couldn’t not say something to him, either.
“I…I’m sure she’s fine.” Daryl tried, weakly.
He flipped you over so you were flat on your back, hands careful not to make much noise or cause you discomfort as he did. Cock never leaving your wet, greedy hole, he found it easier than ever to resume the pace you’d made above him—now pounding you quietly into his sleeping pad.
You gripped his back and, simultaneously, bit down on his shoulder to keep from letting out a shriek when he grazed a particularly sensitive spot inside you. Tried not to whine when he hit it again. And again. And again.
Shane was growing impatient. Hovered close to the front of the tent so you could see the outline of his shadow.
“You got something better to do, Dixon?” he snapped.
Yeah, fuck your fiancée, Daryl thought with a smirk. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him even deeper.
That light, airy feeling preceding ecstasy was close at hand. You wanted to give in—let the levee break and just relish the sweet sensation quick to follow—but you knew you couldn’t. Knew yourself too well to be a screamer not to hold on a little longer, until Shane had left.
But the way Daryl’s cock was pumping in and out of you at present made it hard, to say the least.
“Just…tired, ‘s’all,” Daryl groaned close to your ear.
“Tired from what?!” Shane jeered, “Wrist been hurtin’ from how hard you’ve been jerkin’ it to Y/N, huh?”
You almost burst out laughing. Daryl quickly cupped your mouth. Fucked you harder to shut you up.
And shut up you did; but not for long, you feared. The faster he pounded you, the more that coil in your stomach came to swell, and soon enough you might—
“Eat shit, Walsh.”
“Just help me out. Please.”
Daryl shook his head and fucked you harder, much to your chagrin. You didn’t want him to stop, but you needed him to, in truth, or that swollen thing inside of you just might get the better of you and burst. You pressed your hands to his chest and tried to whimper something softly, but Daryl just hushed you with his hand to your mouth and kept on at that breakneck pace. Your eyes rolled back, your legs started to shake, and if Daryl hadn’t had to tear his attention away to say something to Shane, he might have seen how close you were to blowing your cover…before it was too late.
With one more stroke inside your wet, sensitive hole, you felt a cord inside you snap and a flurry of wild, unbridled bliss take over, stronger than you’d felt in ages.
A shriek desperate to escape your throat, your teeth raked down Daryl’s flesh with the force of it, and, instinctively, the man yanked his hand away and yelped.
You hated to do it, but the feeling was just too good. Your lips parted to release one of the most lewd and obscene sex screams of your life—with Daryl’s name following over and over as you came.
Daryl’s eyes grew to half the size of his face, it seemed. Stilling inside you, feeling your sweet, hot juices flow down him in waves, he sat there and couldn’t quite decide if he was more turned on or terrified.
When Shane tore through the fabric of the tent and charged inside, he figured it out pretty quickly, though.
Fake It Til You Make It (Or Drown)
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader
Summary: Daryl finds out you faked an orgasm. Instead of getting mad, he decides to get even.
Warnings: NSFW. Every TWD character is drunk in this. Unprotected p-in-v. Soiling Michonne’s decorative towels and almost drowning Eugene. Carol-mandated makeup time with Daryl turns to edging and angry sex.
And the Oscar for Best Faked Orgasm goes to…
“Y/N,” Daryl groaned, shooting his load deep inside you.
You arched your back and curled your toes, even let out a sultry little gasp for good measure. Forced your walls to clench around his cock then pulse, periodically—you counted a silent one, two, squeeze in your head every so often and tried to make it so your tremors felt authentic. You practically had this shit down to a science by now.
Women like you weren’t built for quickies. You needed more time to cum, no matter the occasion.
You simply couldn’t and wouldn’t ever make it to climax with fifteen seconds of foreplay followed by Daryl throwing you up against the counter and jackhammering you hard on the edge for three minutes max. This wasn’t a porno, and you didn’t have a clit made of firecrackers.
Men like Daryl couldn’t stand the thought of you not cumming every time you had sex, though, so you sought to ease his mind on the matter during times you knew it was a physical impossibility to reach bliss. A liar you were not, but an occasional teller of euphoric fibs? Hell, you might’ve been tempted to dabble every now and then.
You adored the way he looked down at you when he finished, chocolate locks matted to his forehead and a smile shining bright on his face. He was tender and sweet, always gentle to pry you off of the sink, and he’d be watching you with admiration all the while.
Rick and Michonne’s booze-fueled pool parties had that effect on you both—always scrambling for a spare room to fuck in the second you arrived like you’d forgotten how good the other one looked dressed in swimwear.
Daryl shimmied the bottom half of your lime green bikini back up your legs and patted your rear with affection.
“I think Rick would be proud,” he said.
“I think Michonne would be pissed.”
You glanced down at the lovely little decorative towels Daryl had used as a sweat rag and made a mental note to wash those back at your place. You yelped when Daryl dropped his hand back down to your heat.
“Still sensitive?” he smiled.
“Uh huh.”
You were already trying to slide past his frame toward the bathroom door, where the sounds of the party outside were growing louder each minute. In truth, you knew that spot where Daryl’s fingers had almost grazed would have been a lot more sensitive had you actually just came, and that tell alone would have given your act away. You couldn’t have that, so you quickly pulled him in for a kiss and pushed his hands back up to your hips.
Daryl’s tongue traced the seal of your lips and parted them for a far more passionate kiss than you’d expected. You let his tongue roam anyway, but inside, you felt slightly confused as to why your boyfriend was still so…horny when he’d just blown his load a minute ago.
You moved languidly toward the door as Daryl continued to kiss you. He was touching your waist a little strangely, the more you came to think of it. Maybe frisky from the whiskey?
Your hand reached the doorknob the second his did. Daryl pulled away and let the corners of his mouth twist almost cruelly in a grin before turning the handle and nudging you out.
You shuffled a few awkward steps past the door. Daryl was hot on your heels, hand at the small of your back when his lips returned to your ear—just for a second, this time. He leaned in close, now, and murmured real low:
“I know you faked it.”
Then he pushed you forward again, only for you to trip over your own two feet trying to turn and face him.
“What?” you hissed. Playing dumb.
But if you could play dumb, Daryl was more than happy to play stupid as fuck. He ignored your outburst altogether and waved at someone behind you, pretending not to see you staring up at him with exasperation painting your face.
“Eugene! Swim trunks look great.”
Across the room, Eugene extended a lengthy ‘thank you’ and told Daryl that he, too, was looking snazzy, and you knew better than to try and pry Daryl’s attention away. Reluctantly, you turned around and made every effort not to show your present emotions on your face. In truth, you were nervous as fuck wondering what Daryl might do now that he knew you’d faked your climax.
You could try and make it up quick. Minimize the fallout.
The second Eugene departed, and it was just the two of you standing in the kitchen, you shamelessly reached for the outline of Daryl’s dick in his shorts.
Daryl swatted your hand away.
“My penis only goes where it’s appreciated,” he told you quietly, feigning that same stupid smile that signaled to everyone else who might pass by that things were fine.
They weren’t. Daryl probably hated your guts right now.
His seed was still dripping from your cunt, and you longed for the feeling of having him inside you, whole. But you got the sense that that wasn’t happening any time soon, as Daryl promptly greeted two more familiar faces and obliged you to mingle too. You faced Rosita and Abraham with a thinly veiled look of despair, and you gathered that the former picked up on it pretty fast.
“What’s up?” Rosita asked, pulling you to the side while Daryl and Abe chatted.
“I fucked up bad, like— legitimately screwed the pooch.”
“What did you do?”
You pursed your lips and felt the burn of Daryl’s glare over Rosita’s shoulder, sensing then that you’d probably be better off just keeping your mouth shut.
Hurriedly, you said under your breath,
“IfakedanorgasmandDaryl’sreallymad.”
“Daryl’s mad at what? Why?” Rosita said, shrill as ever.
You wanted to clamp your hand over her mouth, but it was too late. Daryl was quick to find your form lingering on his periphery and took your waist in one arm in a lasso-like motion. You guessed you’d be taken off to the slaughter any minute now—which was just getting chewed out by Daryl or given a half-dozen grumpy looks. You almost would’ve preferred the knife to the throat.
Confirming your worst fears, Daryl raised a beer with Abraham and suggested you all go for a swim.
That sounded like a setup if you’d ever heard one.
Perhaps overwrought with paranoia and a few too many Twisted Teas, you found your feet shuffling as slow as you could toward the thick sliding doors and Rosita at your rear asking what the hell was going on.
You made a big, fat ‘O’ with your hands and shook your head, hoping she’d understand—and Daryl wouldn’t see. It turned out neither of your wishes were to come true in that moment, and your boyfriend only pulled you closer to his side while the four of you strolled outside.
“Real mature,” he muttered.
“You’re one to talk,” you retorted.
“Could we please talk at a level most humans can hear?”
That last interjection was Eugene, sidling up to the group with his floaties already strapped to his biceps. You eyed the man, then his beer, then his bright red flotation devices, and hoped like hell Daryl wasn’t about to start playing drunk trivia now that your genius friend was plastered. Or worse yet, encourage him to swim.
“How many lies does the average woman tell in her life?”
You really needed to start keeping your hopes and dreams to yourself. You glared at Daryl.
Eugene was already devising some half-baked formula in his brain, or else retrieving another far-removed factoid that he’d learned on a game show in 2005, and presently answered Daryl’s question with a quirk of his brow.
“I…can’t say it’s a gender-dependent question, my friend. If I were to make an educated guess I’d give—”
“A million more for men,” Rosita interrupted, flashing a wry smile at Abraham, “Most men lie like they breathe.”
“Amen!” Carol called from the tiki bar. You loved and you hated Alexandria’s grown-up parties sometimes.
“Well maybe— maybe men lie more to get sex, but women lie about sex.” Daryl shot the most conspicuous look in your direction, and you’re fairly certain Rick and Michonne shared a look of, ‘Ah shit,’ simultaneously.
Inside, the two were secretly hoping they’d catch wind from the babysitter that Judith and RJ wanted to be picked up, or else learned that a horde of walkers had laid siege on one of the outer-facing walls, because they knew from experience that these fights never ended well. The last time you and Daryl ticked each other off in public there had come a very loud and very obnoxious karaoke rendition of Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Silver Springs’ sung drunkenly between the two of you, and frankly, no one at the party wanted to see a repeat of that.
You wrested your arm out of Daryl’s hold and took a seat opposite Carol at the bar. Nodding when she offered to pour you some tropical concoction with a lot of rum, then pretending not to see Sasha eye Daryl warily.
“Whiskey dick give him trouble?” she murmured to you.
“You say his brother’s name in bed?” Rosita quipped.
“First off, he’s dead,” you said, before dropping your voice to a whisper, “Second, it wasn’t the whiskey or anything, I just…couldn’t cum, so I faked it. That’s it!”
You figured if Daryl was airing out your dirty laundry for the whole group to hear, you might as well beat him to the punch when it came to your closest friends. You could tell Sasha was trying hard not to smirk.
“That’s…that’s it?” she reiterated.
“Just now,” you mumbled, “Don’t tell Rick and Michonne, but we were holed up in the bathroom an—”
“Anyway, okay, no details but you told a little lie, so what?” Sasha proceeded without a hitch.
Carol waved the margarita she was making in vehement agreement and handed it over to you. Telling you to drink, now, with her eyes as soon as she caught a glimpse of Daryl’s disgruntled expression across the way.
“Yeah, so what? You told a fib to keep his ego intact, what’s the harm?”
“I’m saying!” You pointed to her before taking a sip.
“I think honesty is the best policy,” Daryl declared out loud like he’d just discovered the Atlantic.
At his side, Eugene eyed him up and down as if to say, ‘What the fuck are we talking about?’ You surmised that probably only half the group understood what was going on between Daryl and you, but most got the gist that the two of you were beefing. Again. Carol proceeded to drain her piña colada like her life depended on it, and Abraham and Rick suddenly gained interest in something inside.
Daryl wasn’t backing down. In fact, he raised his voice.
“And if she’s willin’ ta lie once, who knows how many other times she—”
“Be fucking for real,” you rolled your eyes, “I wasn’t faking most other times, and you know it.”
“Most times? So ya did it other times?”
“Folks, I cannot say with utmost certainty that this is a healthy coping mechanism for a relationship like y—”
“Shut up, Eugene.”
You could tell just how incensed Daryl was by the color of his cheeks. In a world that almost never raised the hue above a baby pink, you were alarmed to see him turn a shade or two shy of crimson. You knew something lewd or unkind was likely to flare behind those cobalt eyes any second now.
“How many times for Spencer, then?” Daryl growled.
He knew that shit was off-limits. A happenstance situationship that started and ended long before you’d ever dated Daryl. Now he was just being mean.
“Alright, guys, how about we take a second to cool off?” Michonne was using the same voice she assumed whenever trying to talk Judith or RJ out of a cranky mood. You saw Daryl already had the insolent pout of the children down pat, that was for sure.
“Maybe if you’d asked Leah she would’ve said the same,” you spat.
Daryl abandoned his beer and moved closer to you, just narrowly checked by Sasha’s warning touch and even more persuasive gaze. He paused for a second, crinkled his nose, and seemed to be considering something a moment or two longer before finally deciding to be petty.
“At least I didn’t have to ask Leah to swallow.”
That was it. You reared back and chucked your bright pink strawberry marg directly at Daryl’s head, unleashing a string of unsavory names as you did so. Daryl easily side-stepped, and the next in line to receive the airborne drink was Eugene. Completely defenseless, per usual, and not at all prepared to be hit in the face by a plastic glass filled with syrup, liquor, and slush, the man was a sitting duck.
He shrieked the second it struck him below the eyebrow. His hand clamped over his eye, and he stumbled back a few steps.
“Eugene!” came more than one voice, including your own.
The mulleted man wailed and spun perilously on his heels, trying blindly to make a beeline for the house but ending up walking straight into the pool ahead of him. Your whole party jumped to their feet and scrambled after him.
Apart from the aid of his arm floaties, the man was completely unable to swim—and still blinking fiercely through a sheet of strawberry-flavored ice as he flailed about in the water and cried for help.
Sasha, Rosita, Michonne, and Daryl didn’t hesitate; all four dove head first into the pool to save their friend.
Two hours had passed, and you and Daryl were still in time-out—courtesy of Carol and Michonne.
Deprived of your right to drink, smoke, fight, or fuck (at least not with condoms), you and your boyfriend had been placed in indefinite non-solitary confinement sitting perched outside the hot tub with instructions to make up, or else. So far, no words had passed between the two of you, and it had just started to rain.
Daryl waved to the kitchen window, where Carol was watching you both with narrowed eyes.
“Can we come inside now?” he groaned, motioning to the storm clouds overhead.
Carol gave him one emphatic thumbs down and turned to stir her broth on the stove.
This was your group-imposed “getting along” punishment: stay outside until you make amends. You kicked your feet in the bubbling water and cursed yourself for ever thinking it was a wise idea to stroke a man’s ego and fake an orgasm in the first place.
Then you lowered yourself into the water, seeing as there was not much else to do.
“Ya tryna be human stew? Get out,” Daryl snapped.
“Great, maybe Carol can throw me in her soup and I won’t have to continue this stupid fucking conversation.” You knew the dangers of swimming in a rainstorm, but you didn’t want to give Daryl the satisfaction of knowing you’d stop for his sake. You sank deeper into the hot tub.
Daryl slid across the wet slab of rock and concrete and reached for your shoulder.
“Quit bein’ difficult.”
“Quit being pushy,” you said with an ineffectual splash in his direction. His fingertips still seared hot on your skin as he touched you just above the shoulder blade.
“Oh, was I also bein’ pushy—” Daryl cut himself short.
You looked up, curious. Still refusing to budge.
“Pushy when?”
“When you took your pretty ass outta this tub before you got struck by lightning.”
Daryl received an unamused scowl in return. When you pressed again, he bent down and took you underneath both armpits, hauling you out of the hot tub with infuriating ease.
“Or when I…wanted to have sex and you clearly didn’t.”
Ouch. You jumped back in the water with an even deeper frown.
“I still wanted to have sex, Daryl! I just couldn’t get off as quick as you.”
“So you lied.”
You hastened to the other side of the mini pool when Daryl climbed inside. Your back flattened on the rock, and your eyes shot him a critical look as if to say, ‘I ain’t coming out.’
“Technically, you never asked,” you shrugged.
Daryl scoffed and straightened his own posture on the opposite end of the hot tub, feigning amusement but likely inflamed with irritation inside.
“I touched— I rubbed your pussy to see if you were sensitive. Don’t that mean somethin’?”
“Means you didn’t ask me shit. I never said I came.” You folded your arms across your chest in defiance, but deep down, you knew that a lie by omission was still a lie. Daryl’s facial expression communicated as much as he swam in your direction.
“So you couldn’t…ask me to wait a little longer to help you finish?” Daryl approached you close enough to graze your knees, so you felt obliged to press yourself harder against the wall, “Ya know I’d eat the cum out yer pussy if I knew it’d get ya off, sweetheart.”
Indeed, you knew. You should’ve known better than to accuse him of selfishness or inadequate communication—Daryl was a generous lover, and one who was always willing to wait, whether that meant delaying his climax or putting a pause on sex altogether. You felt an unlikely shiver in the boiling hot water when your boyfriend’s frame slipped between your legs beneath the surface.
“Even if I’d finished first, ya know I’d lick ya clean and make that pretty pussy cum all over my face an’ fingers. Ya do know tha’, right?”
He wanted to hear you say it. His hands had just started to trail a slow course up your legs as you released a shaky breath and nodded your head.
“I know, baby, I just— I just like seeing how riled up and sweaty you get when you fuck me for a quickie. You always seem so…satisfied pulling out I just hate to make you get hard all over again on my account.” Your voice was quieter then, breaking off in the gentlest whimper when Daryl’s knuckles grazed your heat.
Then, with the other hand, he moved your fingers to feel how hard he was under his swim trunks.
“Thought ya knew me better’n tha’,” he tsked you softly as he rubbed your hand up and down the length of his clothed erection, “I’m always hard fer ya, honey.”
You swallowed and sighed the second you felt him throb in your hand underwater. You wanted him now.
When your fingers fumbled for the drawstring of his shorts, however, Daryl nudged your touch away. Brought his own to the bottom of the bright green bikini you were wearing and slipped a digit underneath the fabric.
“This poor little clit,” he lamented, circling just lightly enough to draw breathy mewls from your mouth.
You spread your legs even wider to allow him access. When he pulled you to his chest, you felt his heart thrumming as fast as yours was. The light drizzle of rain overhead was growing heavier by the second.
This was not the makeup session Carol or Michonne had envisioned when they’d sent the two of you off to talk. You and Daryl just happened to make amends a little differently than most—semi-publicly, sometimes.
“Can’t imagine how bad it’s been achin’ since I last fucked that pretty little hole,” Daryl continued, index and middle finger now rubbing lazy circles over the spot where he’d pried your bikini to the side.
You sat, spread eagle with your mouth ajar and your eyes on his. Oh, how he loved you like this: partly supine and looking so pathetic. His fingers worked even faster.
“Been needin’ daddy’s touch, has it?” he teased before moving his digits to your slick entrance. Then, pressing just a finger inside and feeling your walls instinctively contract, “Now tha’s a believable squeeze.”
He smiled and you realized he knew a real clench from a fake one by now. That dramatized show you’d put on for him earlier almost made you feel ashamed now, gathering just how good a proper fingerfucking felt when you actually gave your boyfriend the chance to try.
He pushed another finger inside and curled them both with expert precision. You let out a helpless moan the second he grazed your g-spot.
“Baby, I need it,” you whimpered, “I need to cum so, so badly.”
Daryl nodded as though feeling your pleasure—and pain. He worked a vicious rhythm against your cunt and let a smile spread across his lips the longer he watched you writhe and moan amidst the hot, churning waters. When your stomach started to flutter and your entrance gave a warning pulse, you didn’t even need to inform him of your impending climax; you closed your eyes and prepared for the sweet bliss in expectant silence.
That was, until, Daryl retracted his fingers and climbed out of the hot tub.
Sorely misled ecstasy withered before your eyes.
You whined. Louder than you meant to.
“Daryl!”
Your boyfriend had taken up a spot standing at the side of the hot tub, pretending to be so overcome with heat exhaustion that he just couldn’t stay in a second longer.
He wiped his brow and watched you smugly.
“You say sumn’, sugar?” he asked as he sat down on the water’s edge to plant a kiss at the top of your head.
“You’re sick,” you muttered, dodging any additional condescending smooches by scooting over. When Daryl slowly leaned down toward the water, you scowled.
Then he patted the wet slab of concrete beside him.
“Jus’ want you to cum on my tongue. C’mon.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world—clearly he couldn’t eat you out underwater, so he was just being kind to give you a place to sit while he tonguefucked you silly.
You pretended not to notice the smirk twisting at the corners of his lips as you climbed out of the hot tub and reluctantly followed his motions.
Your legs spread just a little, now perched at the edge of the sauna while Daryl sank back in the water and positioned his head perfectly with your core. A sidelong glance to the nearest window showed that Carol had disappeared from the kitchen, but you knew you would have to make this quick.
Without ceremony, you yanked a tuft of Daryl’s wet hair and guided his face even closer to your heat. Far past the point of pleasantries, you pulled your bathing suit to the side and presented yourself, bare as ever, to Daryl’s eager tongue and lips.
Your boyfriend supplied you with both in an instant, dragging his tongue up the whole length of your slit with a groan. Wanting to savor the taste, were it not for your quiet pleas for him to finish this, please, Carol could be back any minute.
Daryl lapped between your folds, happy as ever, and left a series of suctioned kisses on the spots where he knew you needed him most. Gripped your thighs in either hand, pulled your bottoms so far he almost snapped the fabric in half, and practically devoured that needy cunt.
The man was a pussy-eating prodigy, to put it mildly. He dove deep between your thighs like oxygen was the furthest thing from his mind and sucked on your clit as if it were a lifeline. Your back arched out of instinct, legs clamping on either side of his head and chest rising and falling in stuttered breaths. You moaned and felt Daryl’s own grunts join the reverberations shaking your body; for a second, you thought you were almost seeing stars.
When Daryl inserted two fingers and swirled his tongue around that sensitive nub, you were certain that moment was soon to come.
“Mmm, just like that, baby, fuck,” you breathed, rutting your hips ever slightly against his face. Daryl, soaked with your arousal and waves of scalding water, just held his place and kept licking over, and over, and over.
Your grip fastened harsher in his hair the second a pleasant coil pulled tight along your tummy. You planted your calves on either side of Daryl’s neck, braced your body to the concrete, and felt a heady bliss make its second appearance of the night.
A quiet slurp marked the sudden disconnect between Daryl’s mouth and your aching core. You almost fell off the edge of the hot tub as your mind and body both stopped devastatingly short of full climax. This time, you almost shrieked.
“DARYL!”
“Got a tongue cramp. Sorry.”
Too bad he was grinning from ear-to-ear with no trace of a muscle spasm anywhere on his face. You splashed him with a massive wave and went scrambling to your feet.
“Fuck this. I’ve got a vibrator at home.” You were already pulling your panties back in place, muttering some less-than kind words under your breath, and kicking yourself twice for ever believing Daryl was mature enough to treat this as anything other than a game.
“Hey! Baby, wait!” Daryl called after you. Then he was getting up and getting out too.
“You blame me for fucking around, and you— you go and pull some shit like this?!”
You waved a silent, dismissive hand when Daryl started after you, trailing hot on your heels with a look that almost would’ve seemed apologetic had he not been fighting a laugh the entire time.
When his hands landed on your shoulders from behind, you moved to shrug him off and told him, with a finger supplanting your words, to get fucked. You groaned internally when Daryl pulled you in for a tight embrace.
“It’s called edging, sweetheart,” he hummed in your ear.
“It’s called being an asshole and shutting my orgasms down on purpose.” You wriggled to free yourself from his arms but found the man behind you unwilling to cooperate; in fact, the more you struggled, the more snug his grasp got. You battled against his far superior strength no longer than a minute or two before Daryl plucked you right off your feet and into a bridal hold.
“What do we say when we really wanna cum?” he asked, almost patronizing. Then, as if to put a finer point on it, he ambled toward the edge of the pool and swayed your soft, soaking frame over it.
“You’re fucking crazy!” you hissed, still wrestling against his chest.
You sensed that might not have been the wisest choice of words given your current predicament, but Daryl didn’t seem fazed in the slightest.
“Did I hear a ‘please’ in there?” he asked, rocking you back and forth over the water’s edge.
“Please put me down.” Your voice was low and importunate, eyes warning him just the same.
“O-kay.”
And down you went. Into the pool. Your boyfriend still cradling you in his arms while you thrashed and splashed and called him every profane name in the book.
You’d just swept the wet mass of hair from your forehead when Daryl pinned you to the wall. Your back was flush to his chest, and his breath was hot on your ear.
“Promise y’ain’t gonna fake it this time?” Daryl murmured through gritted teeth, one hand yanking your swimsuit bottoms to the side and the other pulling his own down his hips.
You gripped the side of the pool and cast a quick look to the kitchen. Carol was nowhere in sight, but who knew how much longer she—and everyone else—would be gone? You bit your lip when Daryl dragged the head of his cock between your legs.
“We can’t do this, Dar—”
“I said, are you gonna fake it? Pretty simple question.”
Your folds had already parted with his length in between them, hole pleading for his entry when all he had done was rut his hips in place and tease your slit. You pressed your ass right into him and tried hard not to whine as you sensed your cover could be blown at any moment. Daryl nipped at the skin behind your ear and repeated his question, this time enveloping your frame with his when he bent you over the side of the pool.
Your eyes flickered to the warm glow of the kitchen, and you felt the rain come down even harder—your vision, with the distance and the downpour, was almost totally obscured.
Fuck it.
“Promise I won’t— I swear.” Your voice now scarcely above a whisper.
That seemed to satisfy Daryl well enough. No more than a second later, he was plowing inside you, gripping your hip for support and your hand in his own for what seemed to be encouragement of sorts. You squeezed his fingers back as soon as the first influx of pleasure rolled through you.
“Quiet, quiet for me, baby,” Daryl warned close to your ear, gaze scanning the house for any new onlookers, “Jus’ stay. fuckin’. quiet.”
He wasted no time railing you from behind—an impressive feat for a man standing halfway underwater—and simultaneously kept a lookout for your friends inside. Before him, you’d folded like a lawn chair over the wet concrete, yielding to each thrust like you were born for this position and made to take his cock. Then your walls clenched around him, whimpers came loud and fast, and the rain beat a shrill cadence all around.
Daryl dropped a hand to your clit and smiled the second you whined and almost bucked him off. Finally, that sweet sensitivity was back.
He knew from two false starts and more hard edging than you ever would have liked to endure, you wouldn’t last long. You felt a pressure on your neck bringing you up to his chest and those same, ardent lips almost charring your skin when they pressed above your ear:
“Who’s a good girl?”
Another sharp thrust in your cunt.
“I am,” you cried, clawing at his wrist the second his fingers started tightening around your throat. Almost unable to bear it, but loving it all the same.
“Gonna be honest with daddy ‘bout those orgasms?” Daryl chided, “Make a mess of daddy’s cock like yer s’posed’a?”
You nodded as best you could with your throat trapped in his hold and your lips damn near turning blue the second he got to kissing them. Your back arched into his chest, and your body convulsed with pleasure the deeper he went. Daryl loved the way you watched him as he did.
That was what he’d missed. That was what he knew you couldn’t muster in your piss-poor performances of late, what had tipped him off to the truth of your euphoric state with times like today. This was what he needed to see every time he fucked you from now on—if he had to spend a lifetime or two trying to get you there, so be it.
Daryl caught your lips in a long, heated kiss before bottoming out inside you. The sharp nudge to your insides and the brush against your most delicate spot was more than enough to push you over the edge.
Bliss broke through your body like a bat out of hell, and your moans rang loud in Daryl’s mouth as he fucked you through it. And, sadistic motherfucker that he was, he actually smiled when your teeth sank through his lip and drew blood from the surface.
All he cared was that you came, no bullshit this time.
As a metallic tang and an ecstatic trance washed over you, your body went limp in Daryl’s arms. He pulled out, still hard, and rubbed a hand over your ass underwater.
You could feel him beaming with pride right behind you.
But, just when he moved to turn you around, a sight in the bushes sent your heart in your throat. One dark patch of foliage shook with unusual force a few yards away, and you heard some sticks break as someone, shielded by leaves, appeared to lose their balance.
Daryl’s grip on you locked, then tightened, then dropped altogether when a clumsy form came tumbling out.
“EUGENE!”
Walker Bait
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader
Summary: An unforeseen foray into a sex shop leaves you and Daryl trapped between a plastic cock and a hard place as a herd of walkers closes in. Angry sex ensues.
Warnings: NSFW. Protected p-in-v. Oral (m!receiving). Hatefucking, facefucking, and lots of dirty talk, leaning heavy on the “enemies” in the enemies-to-lovers trope. Mentions of a variety of sex toys and other filthy materials, including a blueberry-flavored condom and a walker wearing nipple clamps. 6.5k words.
“All ya gotta do is suck it.”
You were eye-level with the length of it now, all but staring down the barrel of the gun, so to speak. You wetted your lips, shifted uncomfortably on your knees. Then, almost reluctantly, you looked up at Daryl.
“What if it gets in my mouth?”
“It won’t.”
Daryl gripped the base of it with a sturdy hand and guided it closer to your mouth. You made a face as if to recoil, but Daryl was adamant. Insistent. One more false start and he’d probably just shove the thing down your throat. A man of many virtues he may have been, but patience was not among them.
“If I’d known you’d take this long I would’ve done it myself,” he scoffed.
You had just begun parting your lips to allow him entry, but on hearing this, you forced them shut, frowned, and opened them again just to retort:
“Why don’t you, then?! You wanna suck this shit so bad, be my guest.” You were already wobbling back onto your feet, wiping the dirt off your jeans and watching Daryl’s face turn even redder.
“‘Cause I’m teachin’ you, dipshit,” he snapped, “Can’t even tie yer fuckin’ shoes, but I figured ya maybe could siphon gas this once. My bad.”
And there it was: smug, shitstain Daryl ready to jump down your throat with another show of superiority. You couldn’t track, couldn’t forage, couldn’t hunt, couldn’t suck the gasoline out of a car or even put the hose in your mouth. You were useless in his eyes, and he was never shy to make sure you knew it. He looked you over once and hardly seemed to see you at all—just narrowed his eyes and flung the plastic tube in your direction.
Because Rick and all the rest of them were home, and you were here, scoping out the remnants of a seedy one stoplight town miles away, Daryl felt far more at liberty to act like a dick. He would’ve rather anyone been by his side but you, and he let you know as much, but somehow, in some sick and absurd twist of fate, you had been obliged to tag along. You sensed it was because you were the newest addition to Alexandria. And, quite frankly, because you sucked at every other task you’d been given, sucking gas out of cars was all that was left for you to do.
So easy a walker with a dislodged jaw could’ve done it. But you couldn’t. And Daryl despised you for it.
“Figure it out,” he muttered, turning on his heels to stalk off.
You weren’t sure if it was the irate glint in his eyes or the air of condescension in his tone, but you were floored. He’d made two, maybe three steps in the opposite direction when he felt something strike the black leather on his back. He turned again, dropped his gaze to the ground, and saw the plastic hose at his feet. When he looked back up, you were quick to trail behind, stomping past him without a second glance.
“Suck it yourself, asshole.” And you couldn’t help it; you gave him the finger over your shoulder.
You didn’t need eyes in the back of your head to see the rancid, sullen scowl plastered flat across Daryl’s face. Didn’t need ultrasonic hearing to catch him curse beneath his breath and kick something at his feet. You just kept walking in the other direction and hoped with everything you had he wouldn’t follow.
When you’d made it a ways down the street and Daryl hadn’t bothered to chase after you, you breathed a sigh of relief. Now he could raid the mini mart and loot canned foods to his heart’s content or prove himself useful in fifty other ways, and you could just explore.
From the looks of it, you were at the heart of this defunct podunk town and had virtually every amenity at your fingertips.
A barbershop on your right and a dive bar on your left, two boutiques with their windows all busted in, an unsightly patch of grass that once passed as a park, and one lone Texaco, almost treacherous in the light of day as it stood without a single car stationed at its pumps. “NO WAY OUT” emblazoned on a makeshift placard and half a dozen bodies littering the sidewalk before you.
Nothing quite like that small town Southern charm.
Against your better judgment, you went fishing in your back pocket for a few familiar friends to lift your spirits. First, the near-spent package of Virginia Slims, then the lighter, then your Walkman and headphones. An admittedly lethal combination for any would-be survivor of the apocalypse—limiting your hearing and crippling your lungs was no way to live in a world like this, Carol always warned before she snatched both culprits from your hands—but you didn’t care today. You were most of the way down the street and turning down a side avenue; if any walkers were in the vicinity, you figured you would’ve heard them moaning and groaning and dragging their boney asses behind you long before. By all appearances, you and Daryl were totally alone.
You thumbed one miniature flame into view and brought it close to the cigarette you had clamped between your teeth. Then you deposited the lighter back in your pocket, snapped your headset over your ears, and fiddled with the portable cassette player until the strains of some archaic Molly Hatchet tune went spiraling in your ears—“Bounty Hunter,” by the sounds of it.
You were walking at an easy pace now. Took a left off Main and strolled quietly onto Sheppard Street, careful to dodge every bottle, beer can, and rotting body you could. You took a drag and ogled some of the saddest storefronts you’d ever seen. Windows all blown to bits and insides looking like shit as every place appeared to be looted.
It wasn’t until you’d walked a little longer and made your way past the epicenter of the havoc that you saw any spot worth looking at. Where it seemed every other place for food, clothes, firearms, or frozen yogurt along this stretch of road was ransacked and dilapidated, you noticed one building that wasn’t.
In fact, it stopped you dead in your tracks and warranted a triple take to ensure you were seeing things properly the first time you saw it. Blinking with disbelief in the face of this scorching Georgia heat, came your first, unfathomable, ‘What the fuck?’
Juicy Peach Pleasure Shop—Take a bite inside!
There were some sick, twisted people in this world before the turn, that was for sure.
You made a beeline for the entrance.
Admittedly, you’d seen your fair share of funky ass sex shops in your day, but this one took the cake. All shuttered up and seemingly untouched since the world first went to shit—because who in their right mind was robbing a pocket pussy emporium in the midst of the apocalypse?—the store was in surprisingly pristine condition.
The inside was probably tiny and grimy and crawling with walkers—but it was also now your only hope to make yourself useful to the Alexandria community, you thought.
You quickly came to realize that this store would allow you to supply a truckload of sex toys and offer every adult back home the opportunity at a kinkier recreational outlet. With a stockpile of vibrators, ball gags, and anal beads alike, you could finally show them you were good for something. Maybe even worth keeping around, in spite of your subpar siphoning skills and the fact that you’d scared off nearly every animal Daryl attempted to hunt.
You’d be a Juicy Peach pioneer, and one that was likely to meet with tremendous success, if you could just…get the damn door open.
You gave the handle several violent shakes and thrust your body against the door, to no avail.
The sun’s rays were relentless on your back and already bringing a sheen of sweat to your skin, try as you might to keep your cool. You fooled around a few more seconds with the knob, found it hopelessly stuck in its position, and were about ready to abandon the task altogether when you felt the glass begin to give way. Instead of pushing the door, all you had to do was pull it open.
If you were around anyone else but yourself and the dead, you probably would’ve blushed. Would’ve taken a peek at your surroundings, perhaps lifted one half of your headset off your ears and tried to listen to see if anyone had heard. But no, you forged ahead, as careless and oblivious as you were engrossed in the present song’s guitar solo.
Should you have bothered to do either, you likely would’ve heard a set of feet sprinting in your direction and seen someone reaching for you in a hurry. Would’ve caught a glimpse of the stranger’s left hand before it clamped over your mouth or the right as it closed around your own on the door handle and yanked it back. The next thing you knew, you were being hauled inside and held tight against someone’s body, all but immobile in their grip and struggling to gasp for air.
Then a breath, hot on your ear as the person pulled you closer:
“Herd. Don’t move.”
You tensed in Daryl’s arms and watched the scene unfold before you. Just outside the store’s boarded windows, a super-sized group of geeks began to descend on the street where you’d just been standing. Seeing them shuffle, stumble, groan, and hiss their way down, you shuddered to think you hadn’t heard them at all—and would have been overrun in a minute if Daryl hadn’t intervened just then.
The man’s hand remained glued to your mouth, sensing you might shriek as you watched the horde grow in size.
Slowly, he backed you away from the door and started looking around.
“Daryl, I—” you began in a whisper, turning around to face him.
Before you could continue, a half-rotted corpse rose from the floor a few feet away and started toward you and Daryl. You fought your first inclination to scream, remembering your current predicament, and opted instead for a frantic, furious wave of your arm as you pointed behind Daryl.
The man leveled his crossbow in a blink and had a bolt lodged in the walker’s skull even faster. You watched the body crumple to the ground, just before another one of its companions came rounding the corner.
This time, Daryl slipped his dagger from the sheath on his belt and in a single, swift maneuver, drove the blade through the walker’s temple. You watched with widened, paralyzed eyes as this one, too, dropped fast to the floor. But when it did, you still couldn’t bring yourself to displace your gaze, for something bizarre had snagged your attention.
“What in the everliving fuck is tha’?” Daryl breathed, eyes stuck to the same sight as yours.
That rank, decayed biter had a pair of nipple clamps fastened to its chest.
Just as your mind raced to furnish the man with an answer, Daryl took a sweeping look around the place and scrunched his nose.
“Is this—”
“Daryl, I can explain—”
You watched the anger flare in his eyes as he turned.
“You got us trapped in a sex shop?” Daryl snarled.
Though neither of you were in a position to speak too far above a whisper with the walkers outside, it was painfully obvious that your partner was yearning to yell in your face. In an instant, he got within an inch of it and stood towering over you, seething between gritted teeth:
“Risked our lives for a fuckin’ vibrator?”
“How was I supposed to know?” you whispered back, gesturing wildly to the window behind you.
Daryl’s fingers curled into fists, and for a second it seemed like one was primed to strike the nearest surface, but he stopped. Unclenched his hands and simply glared down at you.
“Ain’t you a peach,” he muttered, low and slow, “Ain’t you a goddamn useless little peach, huh?”
He took off in the other direction, probably in search of a back exit.
You stood and silently scolded yourself for feeling even the slightest inkling of arousal at the last, sarcasm-soaked insult. What the hell was wrong with you?
You hung back another minute or so and weren’t surprised in the least when you heard Daryl groan out loud, coming to find the back door barricaded all the way to the ceiling.
“Sonovabitch!”
Taking one, apprehensive look out the window, you observed the herd hadn’t budged. They were moving and milling about, to be sure, but the bulk of them hadn’t wavered from the shop’s front stoop, leaving you and Daryl prisoners within these four walls.
You flinched when one of the walkers bumped its near-fleshless head against the glass. Silently, warily, you backed away and hoped it wouldn’t stray any further.
At length, none of them did.
Nearly an hour had passed before you could tear yourself away from the window, watching each doe-eyed, groaning monster outside like your life depended on it. Then Daryl came staggering back, all but drenched in sweat and slashed every which way down his arms. He’d been prying whatever stuff he could get from the exit, only to find that the door itself had been boarded up and jammed shut. The herd hadn’t stirred.
Daryl had barely been able to look at you when he demanded you start looking—for batteries, rope, whatever the hell you could find in this “depraved place.” You’d gone searching without another word, and the pair of you had been radio silent ever since. Combing over aisles of porn flicks and cock pumps and pretending like this wasn’t the most uncomfortable thing either of you had ever had to do.
When the opportunity to slip somewhere else first presented itself, you took it.
Toward the back of the store, you found a set of changing rooms. All cluttered with boxes and other junk but nevertheless a potential treasure trove for supplies. You eased your way in.
To your relief, there were only two half-rotted walkers making their rounds amongst the wreckage. You knifed them both and went calmly about your business.
And for awhile, it was just that—business. You were ecstatic to find two pairs of boxcutters, a dozen rolls of tape, and more rope than you knew what to do with. You had loaded your arms chock-full of finds, were just about to step outside to show Daryl, when a clothes rack caught your eye.
You turned your head and stopped to take in the sight.
On a single, flimsy hanger at the center of the shelf, there dangled a baby pink lace lingerie set.
You hadn’t seen anything that tantalizing, lithe, and sheer in a long, long time. You were practically drawn to it, feeling your feet shuffle clumsily in its direction and your arms drop every last item they held. Surely, then, you embodied everything a Victoria’s Secret salesman could’ve dreamed—so singularly focused on that stupid piece of clothing that you were literally stepping over dead bodies to get there.
If Daryl could see you then, he’d probably slap you upside the head.
“This ain’t a fashion show, sweetheart, we got the dead beatin’ down our front door!” You could almost hear him now.
Almost. Any hypothetical harangue from your supply run partner and every other pressing concern, it seemed, was lost on you now. All you knew was lace embroidery and plunging necklines, satin fabrics and fuck-me mesh open gussets.
You were clothed in the garment quicker than you could say, ‘Bad idea.’ You did a spin in the mirror.
A thousand dumb ideas danced before your mind’s eye as you placed your hands on your hips, moved your shoulders in sync, gave your ass a little shake. It was ridiculous, but you just hadn’t thought of yourself that way in so long; it was like you were staring at a brand new reflection. Years in a noxious, nightmarish world like the one you currently inhabited would do that. Turn a person into a bloodless stoic, so focused on the means of survival that they couldn’t even say a simple—
“What the fuck?!”
Your heart leapt into your throat when you saw Daryl’s form appear in the corner of the mirror. You quickly covered your tits and turned back to look at him.
“I-I-I’m sorry, Daryl, I—”
“You off yer fuckin’ rocker or sumn’?” Daryl spat, striding right over to you, “We got a whole pack of walkers champin’ at the bit to get us outside, and yer in here playin’ dress up?!”
Daryl clenched his jaw and shoved the clothes rack to the side, sending it tumbling over the two dead walkers with a crash. You hugged your arms to your chest even tighter.
Just when you opened your mouth to speak again, to try and apologize once more, Daryl shoved a thick, angry finger in your face.
“If you go and get yer dumbass devoured by a dildo-wielding geek, tha’s on you. I ain’t fuckin’ comin’ ta save ya no more.”
Damn if the man didn’t have a way with words, even when he was fuming out the ears.
You glanced down and immediately wished you hadn’t. Or had, sooner. Your blue-eyed nemesis was currently sporting the largest hard-on you thought you’d ever seen.
Daryl looked down too and seemed only to grow in his anger, if that were even possible, as it appeared he was infuriated at the sight below him. Enraged with his own erection.
You almost would’ve found this predicament amusing if you weren’t still afraid Daryl might throw you over his shoulder and feed you to the herd outside. Deciding to play it safe, you kept your mouth shut and stood with your hands clasped in front of you. Eyed the outline of his dick only once. Okay, maybe twice.
When your eyes traveled back up to his face in a nervous gaze, you found that Daryl was glaring at you. A hand hovered uncertainly above his belt buckle.
“Fuck it.” You heard him say under his breath before suddenly reaching for you.
Your whole body tensed in his calloused hands as he shoved you toward the door, gripping your wrists behind your back and thrusting you ahead.
You dug your heels into the floor, uselessly, trying to stop your vicious path past the changing rooms and into the store. Your eyes widened as you saw an even larger horde amassed beyond the front door, and for several, fleeting seconds you seriously thought that Daryl might throw you out there.
“Daryl, please,” you wailed, thrashing against him, “I didn’t mean it, I was being stupid—you don’t have to do this!”
At the center of the store, Daryl stopped. Spun you around shortly to face him.
“What?”
“Don’t feed me to the herd, please, I’m begging you.” Your stomach clenched with fear.
Daryl’s expression shifted almost imperceptibly. If you weren’t so goddamn terrified, you would’ve detected that tiny change was in fact amusement.
“‘M not gon’ feed you to the walkers, girl,” he grunted, all matter-of-fact. Then, just as calmly, “‘M gonna fuck you over this counter.”
Oh.
It seemed your World War Z nightmare-fantasy had taken a pornographic turn. The meaning of his words hardly registered in your brain before he shuttled you off to the cashier’s counter at the front of the store. Before you knew it, you were lying flat on a cold, glass surface and staring straight out into a sea of undead faces a few yards ahead. You swallowed.
You flinched with another grating sensation, this time at your wrists.
You glanced over your shoulder and saw Daryl binding your hands together behind your back. Where he had obtained the black BDSM rope in the time it had taken him to bring you here was beyond you.
“Not to be a Debbie Downer here or anything, but isn’t this...kind of…dangerous?” you asked, jerking your head in the direction of the walkers outside the window.
“Don’t care.” Daryl pulled the rope even tighter.
“But they can hear us if they’re right outside.”
From your vantage point, it seemed Daryl was ready to yank your hair and pound you senseless. Instead, he smiled. Gave your ass a light pat.
“Then you’d be wise to keep tha’ pretty mouth of yours shut while I’m fuckin’ ya, sunshine.”
Daryl pressed one quick kiss on your shoulder before bounding off in the other direction. You shimmied helplessly against your restraints as you tried to flip yourself over.
“You’re sick, Dixon. You’re a sick son of a bitch, I hope you know that,” you whisper-shouted after him. You doubt he heard you but had a sneaking suspicion he’d already seen the soaked-through spot between your legs to disprove it even if he had. You pressed your head to the counter and cursed your primal instincts for turning your lower half into an uncomely mess every time a man twice your age said something mean to you.
You would’ve liked to have leaned back—or, rather, forward—and said a big ‘fuck you’ to Molly Hatchet as well for getting you into this bind in the first place, were it not for the sound of Daryl’s footsteps returning.
“Listen, I learned my lesson, Dar. If you could just untie me, we would be a lot better off figuring out a way to escape this place than—”
You yelped as something smacked your ass. It wasn’t Daryl’s hand.
“Ouch!” You strained against the rope once more, only succeeding in wiggling your ass before Daryl’s pleasantly occupied eyes.
“C’mon now, it ain’t tha’ bad, honey. Stuff’s meant to feel good,” he chided. Another strike on your ass check punctuated his words.
He was right; it didn’t really hurt. Just felt strange, all bent over and exposed before him like that. You glanced back and saw the crop in his hands, the smug look on his face, and for a second, you did feel a twinge of pleasure as you imagined him doing much more.
You whimpered when he spanked you again—this time, with the flattened palm of his hand.
“Better?” Daryl quipped, grinning.
The second you nodded your head, you heard the sound of the crop clatter to the floor behind you. Daryl swiftly took your ass in both hands and started kneading the skin. Really digging his fingers into the flesh and sending shockwaves trembling all through your body.
“Rick’s the only reason yer here, y’know,” Daryl said behind you. You yelped when he smacked your ass again, and you curled your toes into the linoleum below.
The man rubbed the spot as soon as he’d struck it, palming your skin like it was the softest, smoothest thing he’d ever felt.
“Thinks you’d be an asset.” Another slap on your rear.
“I told him he don’t know wha’ the fuck he’s talkin’ ‘bout. Said you were ‘bout as useful as a one-legged man in an ass-kickin’ contest.”
You fought back a chuckle. That was pretty good.
And when he spanked your ass another time, the sting didn’t hurt as much. You propped your chin on the surface beneath you, pursed your lips, and actually suppressed the threat of a moan.
“I said ya were a liability,” Daryl continued, “Didn’t know no fuckin’ manners neither.”
At that, you were tempted to speak, almost wanting to defend yourself against his baseless accusations. But Daryl stopped that from happening, as he grabbed a fistful of your hair and arched your back up to meet his face, half-standing.
“I think ya need me ta teach ya some manners, how ‘bout tha’?” he growled in your ear.
If the warmth pooling between your legs couldn’t answer for you, you decided words would have to do. You nodded and said, “Uh-huh.”
Daryl threw you back onto the counter and gave your ass another brutal smack.
“‘Uh-huh’ don’t sound too polite to me, sugar,” he said sharply, cruelly. He didn’t soothe your backside with the pulse of his fingers and stood back from you instead.
“Yes...y-yes sir,” you stammered out, legs trembling underneath you.
Your feet were slightly raised, all but standing on tip-toes to keep your body propped up against the counter, and you were suddenly aware that your cunt was plainly exposed. The open gusset in your lacy attire seemed to have spread even further, swelling with the size of your now-engorged folds and probably displaying yourself to Daryl in all the worst ways.
The man groaned behind you.
You sensed some fabric shuffle, the clink of a belt come undone, and finally a tongue—pressed flat against you and licking a stripe up your oozing heat.
You shuddered forward on the tabletop and let out a lewd-sounding squeal. Your eyes widened at the sight ahead of you as you swore you could’ve seen a walker turn their rotted head in your direction outside. Daryl clamped a hand over your mouth.
“Now tha’s— what we’re not gonna do,” he whispered through gritted teeth, “We’re not gonna make one fuckin’ sound so the geeks out there can stay right where they are. Ya hear me?”
Daryl’s hand moved to your throat and pinched it in a vicious grip when you didn’t answer him.
“Ya hear me?”
You managed one strangled ‘Yes sir’ and left your lips parted as Daryl placed a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss on them. He stepped back again.
You heard some other quiet stirrings behind you as Daryl fiddled with something above your back. Frankly, you were already too lust-struck and cum-hungry to care, breathing out in soft, gentle puffs of air as you tried to rein in your reeling mind. You watched the walkers for a minute, tried to ground yourself in the unsavory reality all around you—the precarious position you were currently standing in, as one stray stumble of one of those undead shitheads might veritably mean the end of you and Daryl’s lives as you knew it—and you sighed. Scanned your eyes across the sea of wretched, fleshy heads and wanted to hurl.
At present, Daryl stroked your lower back with the tips of his fingers.
“Y’know, it’s been real tough ta find anything useful here,” he mused aloud, running his touch over your skin and sending a flurry of goosebumps in its path, “Ain’t nothin’ worth keepin’ here, really—‘cept maybe some dirty magazines.”
You internally rolled your eyes. Good for you, Daryl.
Then he lifted his hand and dragged it down a little further, causing you to clench your legs and snag your bottom lip between your teeth.
“But I got curious, see…” Daryl’s forefinger followed the contour of your ass and slid down between your cheeks, traveling lazily ‘til he reached your aching core. He sank that same finger deep between your folds and circled around in your heat, eliciting a strained whimper above as he gathered your juices.
“Daryl—” you whined.
“Don’t interrupt,” Daryl growled, slapping your pussy.
You winced and let out the smallest of moans. Daryl smirked.
“I found some stuff,” he resumed, “Might actually make this little trip worthwhile.”
You panted in your current position, hardly hearing a word he said.
When he lifted something else to your heat, you did quickly sense that his wasn’t any part of his hand, or even his cock. You squirmed in place but didn’t speak.
“Found batteries,” Daryl declared, as though it were the grandest discovery he’d ever made.
“Ya know what batteries are good for, darlin’?” You could almost hear the grin in his voice.
Before you could answer, you felt a fierce pulse at your center. A tremor, a throb, an artificial oscillation.
A vibration.
You moaned.
Daryl twirled the tip of a pink vibrator against your clit and pressed.
So overcome with that raw, potent jolt, you couldn’t help it when you cried, “Fuck, Daryl!”
Daryl didn’t cover your mouth, but he did withdraw the device from your slit for a moment, just to whisper in your ear to shut. the fuck. up. The two of you ogled the swarm of walkers once more and stood in muted suspense. Waiting for one to turn toward the glass.
Not a single set of eyes drifted in your direction.
Bent over you with a buzzing vibrator at your core, Daryl couldn’t deny the rush was...addictive. He pushed the thing a little deeper and smiled when you stifled a moan.
“Ya might’ve been right comin’ all the way out here after all,” Daryl teased, “This shit’s way more fun than suckin’ gas, don’t ya think?”
You buried your face in the glass and wanted to scream when Daryl’s fingers started sliding in and out of your hole.
You were being so good, not making a sound, eyes all but welled up with tears at the pleasure that was coursing through your body. Daryl rubbed your back with his other hand and seemed to be treating you a little gentler now.
“Aw, tha’s my girl,” he said, words ripe with condescension. He traced his palm up the length of your spine and kept fingering you quietly. You barely even noticed that the vibrator was designed to hook inside you, still punishing your clit as it quivered away at the sensitive spot within your walls.
“Who woulda thought all it would take ta shake that disobedience away was a couple’a fingers in yer cunt and a stupid little toy.”
You were far too close to your release to give a shit about his patronizing speech; you bucked your hips against his hand, his front, and gritted your teeth as a tender bubble of pleasure grew deep within your belly. Then, to your surprise, you felt Daryl clasp your fingers while they were still knotted with rope behind you and squeezed them.
“Tha’s a good girl. Cum all over me, make tha’ pussy feel nice f’me, c’mon.”
You followed his command in short order and released all over his hand, humping his fingers and humming through a muffled shriek as you came.
Daryl beamed with pride and hardly had it in him to look away, notwithstanding the growing throng of walkers close ahead of you. He uncurled his fingers, slid them out, and took a nice, long taste of his hand while he watched you writhe underneath him.
“Take it out!” you hissed, thrashing against the vibrator still buzzing within you, “Take it out, take it out, take it out!”
In truth, you’d never felt so fucking good in your life. You surprised yourself when you stood there another couple seconds and came again, clenching repeatedly over the tiny pink toy and groaning into the condensation-dampened glass.
“FUCK!” you screamed, this time with no hint of restraint.
Daryl’s eyes bulged out of his head, and he yanked the thing out of you. Gaze darting to the window in a petrified look.
One walker paused in place and craned its neck with the slowest of motions. It stared blankly at the window before it but didn’t move. Daryl saw its mouth open and close, wheezing something violent, and stared another few seconds before shuffling back to its previous path. Daryl closed his eyes.
“What did I say about—” he started to whisper down to you, but you cut him short,
“We need a safe word or something, Daryl. This is too fuckin’ risky.”
You were right about that. Daryl straightened up and tucked the vibrator in his pocket, before wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.
“Yeah? How ‘bout ‘Walker Bait’?” he muttered, rubbing his face.
Then he was fumbling with the rope around your wrists and loosening it up. His heart was still thudding in his chest, scared half to death with the narrow miss you’d just had, though he didn’t want you to see it. He turned around as soon as you’d gotten free.
“Fine by me,” you grumbled back.
You watched Daryl disappear down a random aisle and felt obliged to cross your arms over your chest, pivoting back to the walkers with a wary gaze.
And, just when you started to wander back into the recesses of your mind, watching the swarm grow thicker and thicker and starting to doubt you’d ever escape this nightmare, you felt Daryl’s hands on you again. Squeezing your hips and turning you to face him.
“Jump,” he ordered.
You did as he said and locked your legs around his waist, welcomed by the familiar feeling of the counter behind you as Daryl pressed your bodies into it. He half-braced you against it, half-held you in his arms as he fingered something small and delicate beneath you.
Your smile widened at the sight of a condom wrapper being torn in two, and grew even bigger when you caught a glimpse of the rubber itself.
It was bright blue and littered with ridges. You laughed.
“The hell is that, Dixon?” you asked, bringing a hand to your mouth to muffle your amusement.
Daryl gingerly dragged the cobalt-colored condom over his length and made a face.
“Ain’t a single damn rubber here for normal people,” he grunted, “This one’s fuckin’ blueberry flavored.”
At the last, neither of you could contain your laughter as you both stared down at the bizarre blue condom stretching over Daryl’s cock. You scooted forward just a little.
“Never a dull moment with you, is there, Dar?” you said as you pushed his chest lightly. Telling him to step back so you could hop down and sink to the floor in front of him.
Daryl sucked in a breath as you took his shaft in your hands. He slapped a hand on the countertop and squeezed when your tongue darted past your lips.
Surely he couldn’t get a fruit-flavored condom and not expect you to give it a taste.
With the base of his cock between your fingers, you licked a long, wide line up his dick and moaned.
“Doesn’t taste much like blueberries,” you hummed, feigning disappointment as you gazed up at Daryl. He gripped the counter even harder and gritted his teeth to suppress a groan.
Regardless of the unsavory artificial flavor, you took the head of his cock between your lips and sucked. Bobbed your head up and down over his length as though trying to get a real mouthful of those so-called berry juices. You found yourself sorely dissatisfied with the taste but more than compensated for this loss in the form of Daryl’s throaty moans above you. It seemed he was letting loose on the restraints to keep quiet and finally gripping your hair, rutting into your mouth.
“Ah, honey, tha’s’it. Tha’s a good little slut,” he panted as he pushed you further down on his cock.
You tried not to gag when he grazed the back of your throat but couldn’t control the reflex. Daryl groaned even louder above you.
In a second, you were plucked off his bright blue boner and taken back into his arms, then shoved on the surface behind you.
“I ain’ fuckin’ waitin’ no more. Ya done achin’ for daddy’s cock?”
You nodded that you were. You readily accepted Daryl’s lips on your own and his tongue pushed deep in your mouth as he showered you with a string of sloppy kisses. Shifted you in his arms almost viciously, frantically, before bringing you down on his cock.
The second you were fully impaled on him, the two of you groaned. You bucked your hips and he rutted his, bouncing you up and down again and again with no time at all to adjust to his size.
All that could be heard in the deserted store was the sounds of your skin slapping against one another, punctuated every now and then with strangled moans and stifled whimpers. You steadied your hands on either one of his shoulders and stared, deeply, in Daryl’s half-hooded eyes. He panted out a breathy sigh as you clenched around him.
“Tha’s right, girl, fuckin’ take it. Take this fuckin’ cock like it’s yours,” he growled.
“It is mine, Daryl,” you bit back, grinding even harder, “Tell me it’s mine.”
Daryl’s jaw seemed to slacken just a bit, evidently aroused by the sound of you talking so dirty to him. In a blink, he was digging his nails in your sides and saying,
“It’s yours, baby. All fuckin’ yours.”
If someone had told you at the start of the day that this was how your dreaded supply run with Daryl would go, you wouldn’t have believed them. As your once-despised partner drilled you even deeper and caught your lips in a frenzied kiss, you still almost couldn’t comprehend it now. You bounced, and you writhed, and you rolled your desperate hips against him, but how in the fuck did this happen?
The moment Daryl dropped his thumb to your clit, you decided you didn’t care.
Your walls hugged him even tighter as he drew loose circles all over your swollen nub, and your head fell back. Daryl held you even tighter.
“Gonna cum again f’me? Gonna cum all over this cock?” he goaded you as your heels dug deep in his lower back.
All you could do was nod again—bring your lazy, fucked-out gaze back to Daryl and murmur in what hardly felt like words to you at all:
“Y-yes, daddy, yes.”
Daryl smiled at the sound of that word on your lips and thrusted his hips even harder, fucking you fast to build the friction on your sensitive, trembling walls.
That, paired with the flick of his thumb on your clit and the narrowing eyes holding you tight to his gaze—wordlessly coaxing you to cum for him now, make daddy proud—sent your senses spiraling into ecstasy. You released all over Daryl’s fat, throbbing cock and gripped him harder than you ever had before.
Before another scream could escape your lips, Daryl yanked you closer for a kiss and attempted to swallow every sound as his own orgasm surged inside him. You felt the man move both hands to your sides, seize them, and all but crush the bones beneath his fingers as he fucked you hard against the counter. He shot his load in the condom and groaned against your mouth.
Two former enemies, fucked out like a couple of crazed fools, stayed glued in place and blinked back at one other like you hardly understood what had just happened. Grinning nonetheless.
As Daryl leaned in for one last kiss, the pair of you froze—something rapped against the window.
The two of you turned and almost swore you could’ve felt your stomachs fall to the floor.
The herd of walkers outside, seemingly doubled in size, now stood at full attention at the storefront. Every undead, rotted head turned straight to face you.
They looked real fucking hungry.
REMEMBER.
minors dni. 2.6k words. smut. daryl dixon x fem!reader. protective daryl. hint of size kink. strength kink.
It's easy to forget his strength when his touch is always so gentle. When you're safe, he lets you forget everything he's capable of; the reason you've both made it this long.
Safety lets you forget.
And then—when it inevitably all it all goes to shit again—you remember.
"Get in!" he calls through the wall of bodies separating you. He keeps the attention of most of them, but there's a few stumbling in your direction—too many for you to handle alone. "Now!" he shouts as he takes another growling walker down.
It goes against every instinct you have—to leave him to fight this alone. But this was his domain. This was when you did whatever the fuck he told you to do. It was how you survived.
You drag the door of the container open, grunting as the heavy metal fights back. It's a makeshift prison cell, one that was supposed to be filled with live bait for the walkers. It would be if it weren't for Daryl. He was almost single-handedly dismantling whatever fucked up enterprise you'd both stumbled upon.
One of them reaches you before you'd manage to push the gate open enough to slip through.
One is fine. You can handle one.
Turning around to deal with it gives you a split second to check in on Daryl. He's making a dent in the mass of bodies, but it's not enough. Not with the shouts of the living making their way closer.
You kick the walker you've knifed back into the mass of bodies approaching, giving you just enough time to slip through the crack you've made in the sliding door and slam it closed behind you.
Locking it is another story.
You have no hope of accomplishing that.
Still, it's enough for now. It's enough to let Daryl keep his focus where it needs to be as you deal with as many as you can through the bars.
Then one gets shot down. Daryl, is your first thought. But then two are shot down at once. And then the voices reach your ears. Voices are bad. Walkers you can handle. The living was another story. Nothing stoked the fear constantly simmers in your gut like the voices of the living.
They shout over each other, calling directions as they pick off the mass with a spray of bullets. You can't see Daryl anymore. He's either dead or hiding.
Hiding. Hiding. Hiding.
You shift back into one of the dark corners of the container as the shouts draw nearer.
“What the fuck happened?! Don't shoot them you dumb fucks! Get any you can back into holding!”
Any second now... any second they'd find Daryl and your world would end. The living were different. The living were monsters of a different kind.
"They're bunched up around this one!" someone shouts.
You hold your breath.
"Well check it out then!" another demands.
Oh, fuck. You grip your pistol. Your aim was decent. You could take one out, maybe two. But there's a whole group... and they were coming for you.
You scramble to the other far corner as the last of the walkers are cleared from the entrance, hoping to take advantage of the darkest shadows. Daryl would be watching... waiting. Any extra moment you could give him could be vital.
"You better come out now," a man calls from outside. He's just out of your sights, prepared for you to be armed and ready to fight. You'd hoped to have the element of surprise. "I ain't asking."
You know what'll happened when they find you. It's the same thing each time. You're prey to people like these—something to hunt in a world without consequences for that kind of thing.
Your silence buys you less than a minute before the first of them are dragging the metal gate open. If you shoot, they'll shoot back. It's not something you'll survive cornered like this. So you bet on them being the same as the rest. You let them know you're prey.
"Please," you call, as meek and afraid as you can manage—vulnerable. Not a threat. "I'm—I'm unarmed."
Then a bright light blinds you.
"What the fuck?" one of them exclaims. Then, "Where'd the fuck this little thing come from?"
There it was. Little. Thing. You were nothing. You're not a threat. You'd bought Daryl more time.
"Come on out, girl. Come on." They call you like you're a dog, something less than human. That's how they see you. Something to use.
You take a small step forward, still blinded by their flashlights. Daryl was alive. He was alive and hiding and he was waiting for something.
You just had to stay alive.
"What do you... want with me?" you ask, still taking tiny steps towards the light. Weak. Vulnerable. No threat.
You get muffled laughter in response. Guards down. Distracted.
"What do we want? We want a little fun, honey. That's all. Just a bit of fun."
They're flash lights drop as you approach the entrance. They've pulled the gate all the way across.
Five. You count five. If you kill two...
"Why is she alone?" one of them questions. He's younger, a little less distracted.
The rest ignore him. Then one of them has you by the arm, dragging you the rest of the way out of the makeshift cell. They're hands send a wave of repulsion through your body as they grab at you, pulling you around and shoving you in front of them. They may as well be the undead the way their touch feels against your skin.
The young one doesn't move out of the way when you reach him. Instead he stares into you, suspicious and angry. "Who are you with?" he asks. Even then, his gun is lowered. Even to him you aren't a threat.
"Get the fuck out of the way," the man gripping your arm says, clearly irritated and impatient.
"But—"
"Now."
His eyes narrow, but then he steps aside—his back pressed to the wall to let the rest of the men past. It's now that you get a look down into the pit of walkers, the one's they've managed to recapture rather than take out. They reach up towards you, hands grabbing for you.
Then, only a few steps later—you're stopped. The man with his hand wrapped around your elbow leans over your shoulder, his rancid breath invading your nostrils as he speaks. "You alone?" he asks. "You tell me right now."
You blink away the burn threatening to pool tears in your eyes. Were you alone? If you were...
The man's grip tightens, the only warning you get before you're forced to your knees and staring down into the pit of hungry walkers. "Speak," he demands, nails carving into your skin. "I'd hate to waste you like this."
There's two other men behind you. Three surrounding you in total. You could take one out for sure. They hadn't even searched you for weapons. They expected nothing out of you at all.
But then there'd be two, only counting the ones in reaching distance. How long would it take the other two further away to aim their guns in your direction?
You were dying tonight if Daryl was dead, that was certain. Your only hope was that he was waiting and watching... but what would he be waiting for...
Your pistol sits at your hip, a comfortable weight.
You take a deep breath. You could wait to die. Or fight now and hope that's the moment he's waiting for... if he's waiting at all.
The man holding you drops to one knee behind you. He leans over to speak in your ear. You wouldn't need to rely on your aim for the first kill, only any that followed. It was a headstart you weren't likely to get again. You reach for your pistol and before the man can open his lips and taint your senses with his rot once more, you shoot him through the underside of his jaw.
Your ears ring as his body drops. But you were ready. The men behind you aren't.
You were nothing. Prey.
The few seconds that affords you are priceless. You manage to shoot one more through the head before he can get hands on his own weapon.
The third is another story. His gun is pointed at you for what must be milliseconds. They drag though, those moments with an enemy weapon pointed at your head always do.
But then Daryl is there, strangling the man with a rifle and shoving his body into the ground with a force that reverberates through the metal. It's only when he snaps the man's neck you spot the bodies behind him.
He'd been waiting for you.
You watch him stand, hair hanging in his face and his chest rising and falling with his deep breaths.
Then his eyes are on you.
Then his hands.
Those hands... the same ones he'd used seconds earlier to break a man's neck. His fingers are feathers across your skin as he brushes the hair back off your face. "Okay?" he asks, soft and a little shaky.
You nod.
"You did good," he says, that deep gravel back in his voice. "So good, sweetheart." His hand makes a trail down to your neck, gentle and slow over your pulse point to rest at your clavicle. "We gotta go," he says. "Stay close for me, yeah?"
—————
The first time after is always the same—after you're forced to remember. It adds something to the way his gentle hands feel as he reaches over your hips to dip between your legs. To the way his body feels pressed up behind yours.
His thick fingers slip between your slick folds as he holds you tight against his chest. Heat. It's an overwhelming heat. He crowds you, practically curled around you.
"You like that sweetheart?" His voice is almost sweet as his lips graze your ears and his long hair tickles your skin. "Huh? You like that?"
You nod with a small whine, pressing your hips back into him—desperate.
He sighs, finger prodding over and over at your swollen entrance—a teasing little hint of what's to come. He dips in slightly, his calloused fingertip pressing into your slippery, spongy entrance just enough to have you whimpering his name.
"Fuck," he grunts. "You need me here? Huh? You all fuckin' empty?"
"Yeah," you whine with a desperate nod. "Empty."
His grip around your ribs tightens for a moment before he's pressing you into the ground—cushioned by the few blankets you carry. He's rolled you onto your belly as he covers you completely, his warmth seeping into your skin from his calves to his hot breath on your neck.
"What do you need?" he asks. As if he doesn't know; as if he didn't always know.
"You."
"Hm?" he hums, sweet and coaxing. "How?"
You reach blindly to find his wrist, gripping it firmly. "Hold me tight," you gasp between jagged breaths. "Please... Please."
His weight is heavy over you as he drops his lips to your neck, a silent acknowledgement of your pleas.
Then he's scooping you up, lifting you and rearranging you exactly the way you want him to. Because he fucking knows.
He has you pressed to his chest with your tits against his skin as he lays back into the makeshift bed you've created for the night. His arms wrap around you, one across your shoulder blades and the other around your waist—secure and firm. His fingers press sporadically into your skin a little more than needed, like he's testing his grip on you; like he's testing he has you in his arms good and tight.
Then he hooks one leg under yours, a gentle guide to part your legs just the way he needs.
"You ready for me, sweetheart?" he breathes against your temple as one of his hands leaves you. It's temporary, you remind yourself. He'd be wrapping you up securely as soon as he'd buried himself deep; once his cock was guided safely into your throbbing cunt.
You nip at his neck in response, chasing with a delicate lick at his salty skin. "Please," you ask softly.
Then he's adjusting you against him a little, ensuring you're exactly where he needs you to be. "I got you," he says as his leaking tip prods at your entrance. "Got you," he repeats. He mumbles this way as he teases; as he plays. This was what he did: pushed you to the brink of desperate sobs as he guides his cockhead over your slippery, throbbing cunt... over and over.... and over...
Saying he liked you needy was an understatement.
Then, eventually, he slips inside. Just the tip.. and not far. Just enough so that he can wrap his arms around you again. Just enough that he can have you whimpering his name as he prevents you grinding down to take him deep inside.
This is when he gives you a hint of his strength. It's easy to keep you from your goal, his strong arms pressing you into his torso a little harder each time you attempt to resist.
He keeps you there, just with a taste of that fullness—a taste of having him as close as it was possible to be. "Kiss," he says, simple and a little croaky.
You obey, pressing your desperation between his lips. It's messy and interrupted by moments where you simply need to breathe, heavily—his lips chasing yours as you attempt to catch your breath.
"Daryl," you gasp eventually. "Now. Please."
His grip around you tightens a little as you drop your face to his neck.
Then he pulls you down to meet his cock, to fuck himself deep. It's hard, exactly like you need it—exactly the way he knows you want it. You bite into his neck weakly as he keeps you there, stuffed full—the thick throbbing length of him stretching you out so completely.
Then, "Like that?" he asks, that sweetness back in his voice—like he's offering you a gentle back massage instead of holding you down on his cock.
You nod weakly in response.
His fingers press into your skin moments before he's moving, fucking himself with your cunt as he pulls you down to meet his messy thrusts. You're completely pliant like this, all control relinquished.
He's got you.
His breathing is quickly transformed into uneven pants as he attempts to grunt broken sentences into your ear. "Sucking me in... sucking at my cock with your messy little cunt... aren't you, baby? Hm?"
One of his hands moves to your hair occasionally, a temporary and seemingly subconscious attempt to get a better grip—or just to hold you closer. His fingers tangle in the strands, never tugging hard—never hurting.
"My girl," he grunts. "My needy little girl."
It's only when he's nearing his end that he flips you onto your back and you get a real display. He grips your hips and tugs you down to meet him as he uses you, each thrust a slapping of skin and punching a helpless sound from your lungs.
Strength. Everything you've been forced to remember.
"Daryl," you gasp. "Daryl, fill me. Please."
His fingers dig a little more into your skin, his hair falling over his eyes. Then his lips part, a grunt... a broken, "Fuck."
He falls over you as he floods you, his cock twitching and pumping you full—just like you asked. But even then, even as he loses himself, he catches his fall—arms landing either side of your head to cage you in. "Got you," he gasps out between desperate lung fulls of air. "I got you."
imagine…
finding daryl a really cool zippo lighter and seeing him mindlessly flick it open and close throughout the day.
sitting with your feet in his lap while you both relax on the porch swing (alexandria era).
pinky linking instead of full on hand holding.
finally getting to the playful butt swat stage of your relationship + him winding up his t-shirt and chasing you around the house.
him praising you whenever you kill an animal: “nice shot, girl.” “look at you.“ “atta girl.”
reading a book with your legs crossed on his work bench as he tinkers with his bike.
getting a cold and when daryl dips down to kiss your lips, you turn your head away from him. “daryl, don’t! i don’t wanna get you sick!” and then he grabs your chin and presses a firm kiss on your lips anyway.
daryl finds a cowboy hat and drops it on your head. you let out a giggle. “what’s that saying? save a horse, ride a cowboy?” you smirk. his cheeks darken and he turns away from you. “think ya’ got tha’ backwards..” he drawls. “no? pretty sure i’m right…”
eating a lollipop and daryl walks right up and pulls it out of your mouth and puts it in his (or vise versa).
having a journal that you can both communicate in. we all know daryl isn’t the best at communicating his feelings verbally and maybe you aren’t either, so you just write back and forth to each other.
i love the journal idea because you would use it for everything. daryl has to be up early to help rick with something? he’ll scribble a quick “helping rick. come find me.” and as soon as you wake up and feel the void in bed beside you, you go right to the journal.
him getting hard as fuck when you give shane attitude (farm era).
you get into an accident on a run and ending up losing a lot of blood and you wake up later in the infirmary. “ya’ lost a lotta blood,” he says. “then i bet you did too…” you smiled groggily knowing that he gave you some of his (he’s a universal donor).
rubbing aloe vera on his sunburnt skin and he just lets out these sexy ass heavy breaths.
him watching you get visibly frustrated when someone else is helping you with something, but not doing it the way you want it done, so daryl steps in and tells them to get lost.
daryl giving you cold medicine while you’re sick and he makes you take it in front of him and open your mouth to show him that you swallowed it.
a/n: these are my favorite scenarios to imagine when I'm in class :) if you wanna use any of these ideas for a fic, tag me! i'd love to see them!
I would love to see a fic of Daryl with pregnant reader (bonus points if there’s a breeding kink [if you’re comfortable, I didn’t see it in the list] that results in her being that way). She’s concerned about the changes in her body and that he doesn’t find her attractive in her condition. So, Daryl gets to share his love for pregophillia. :)
masterlist || MDNI
depths of your despair.
daryl dixon x pregnant!reader
summary: after a series of misunderstandings, insecurities regarding your pregnancy start affecting your relationship with daryl. but as soon as he becomes aware of that, he makes it up to you, worshipping your pregnant body like he should've done since the beginning.
warnings: 18+ smut, pregophilia, dirty talk, pet names, praising, cunnilingus, degradation, daddy kink, creampie, impregnation, arguments, rough sex, pregnancy sex, outdoors sex, slight choking, dacryphilia, self-consciousness, manhandling (if you squint), squirting.
word count: 8.1k
a/n: tysm for your request, i really enjoyed writing this one <3 it turned out a tiny bit more angsty than i intended it to but i promised it has a happy ending!
<flashback>
“Tha's righ', doll” Daryl cooed against your ear, harshly gripping your hips to keep you in place while he pounded your tight cunt at a fast pace. His chest pressing on your back, making your body shake with intense pleasure at his every thrust, each one deeper than the previous. You could feel his sweat wetting your body, barely able to keep your eyes open.
“Takin' daddy's cock so well like a good lil’ slut” The contrast between praising and degrading turns your brain into putty. That man knew all your weakest spots, he always knew exactly what to say to make you weak in the knees, struggling to keep yourself on your feet. You couldn't think of anything else or anyone else in that moment but him and the feeling of his big cock almost ripping your little cunny apart.
Daryl's always been the sweetest to you, always making sure you were safe, giving you all the shoulders when you cried, but when it came to sex, he was always just so eager and desperate for you that he couldn't help but be rough. He made every fucking feel like the last one, as if it was his last chance to ever lay his hands on you. He made it count, making you wonder how you were capable to have lived so many years without that man before you met him.
You tried to keep quiet, careful not to catch the attention of any of those walking dead fuckers' roaming around the woods while Daryl harshly abused you against a tree, whispering the dirtiest words into your ears. But he wasn't making it easy on you, and despite your effort, your moans and cries were getting louder and louder as you got closer to your high. He reveled in the way you bit your lips and threw your head back to rest it on his shoulder. He took the opportunity to let go of your hips and wrap his big arm around your throat, his other palm now pressing against your lips in an attempt to muffle your sounds.
“Shhh...” He shushed you. “Be nice 'n quiet fer daddy, yea?” His teasing words and a small nibble on your earlobe from him were all it took to make your legs finally fail as you sank to your knees. Instead of holding you up, he nearly finished throwing you on the dirt, laying your body flat on it. The tickling of the leaves and the rough texture of the ground could almost bother you if you weren't so lost in pleasure. He got even rougher, if that was possible, banging his hips against your ass so hard that made your moans shaky and your eyes start tearing up.
He loved whenever he gave you so much pleasure that you cried on his cock, the sight of thick tears running down your cheeks only fueling his twisted desires for you.
“Aww, wha's the matter, sunshine?” He mocked you, his voice coming out a bit louder than he expected. His piercing blue eyes looked around for a moment, searching for any threats but never stopping railing you. When he found none, he fully returned his attention to you, noticing the way your moans had practically dissipated and your had your eyes shut tight, a clear sign that you were dangerously close to cumming.
“Gunna cum fer daddy?” The volume of his groans and grunts getting harder and harder to hold back. You weren't able to speak with his hand pressed against your mouth and almost couldn't breathe with his big bicep wrapped around your throat, but you managed to nod slightly.
“Fuck, 'm gunna cum!” His needy voice filled your empty mind and you felt his hips stuttering when the rhythm of his thrusts started faltering. “Gunna fill ya up, make ya heavy w' ma babies.” You widened your eyes out, it was the first time he ever said something like that. But you were willing to give that man all he wanted, make his every wish come true like your life depended on it. You wouldn't say no to him and honestly, the thought of caring his children strangely turned you on even further. A faint smirk managed to creep on your face.
“Ya wan' tha', beautiful? Ya wan' Daddy ta make ya pregnant, hm?” How could you ever say no to him when the neediness in his voice was so obvious?
“P-please, fuck a baby into me.” The strangled sound of your voice while you begged him to fill you up was the fuse for him to finally start shooting ropes of cum into your velvety walls. Your tight pussy clenched around his cock as you weren't able to stop your own orgasm from dominating all your senses. It was like the world stopped spinning and the whole Universe contributed to make that moment perfect.
As both of you came down from your highs, Daryl gently brushed a strand of hair off your cheek, tugging it behind your ear to place a soft kiss to your temper. In that moment, the sounds of your labored breathing as you struggled to catch your breath was all that could've been heard until he let out a light chuckle.
“Can't believe we did this.” You could hear a smile in his voice while he pressed his cheek against the back of your head for a last time before adjusting his position, sitting down on the dirt and gently grabbing your arms, helping you do the same. Even though you were in the middle of the woods, you couldn't care less about it. All you wanted was to be in Daryl's strong embrace. “But I'm glad we did” You whispered, snuggling his chest.
<end of flashback>
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀~4 months later~
It still felt vivid.
It's like you could still feel his love from 4 months ago, the way he groped your body and made love to you like it was the last time. How ironic, if somebody told you that was actually the last time, you would have laughed right in their face. Now, as you unwrapped the towel off your naked body and tossed it aside to stare at yourself into the mirror, you wondered if you'd made the right choice, if you really should've let the heat of the moment get the best of you.
Your belly was round and your bellybutton was puffing out, an unusual look to you but it's been your reality for the past 4 months. You didn't really know how to feel about it. You were happy to be the one having the privilege to carry Daryl's baby, but at the same time it still felt so new and strange to you. And the way he felt so distant since the day when he knocked you up was not helping you feel any better about it.
He wasn't exactly neglectful of your needs as a pregnant woman. He was always around you, making sure you were safe, helping you through the symptoms of pregnancy, holding your hair up whenever you threw up. He was there, but at the same time, he wasn't.
4 months ago Daryl used to be so eager for you, always so thirsty for you. And now, he just left you aching for his touch. Whenever you tried to initiate some intimacy, he turned you down, leaving you confused at his strange behavior. He definitely wasn't the type of guy to refuse sex, at least not after knowing you, so you started wondering if you were the problem.
The stretch marks on your belly were getting more and more obvious as the time passed, your breasts all swelled up with milk. You gained some weight, and as you leaned in closer to check on your face on the mirror, you could see how round your face was getting.
Disgust.
That's what you felt when you looked at yourself. You were so sure your looks were the reason why Daryl wanted nothing to do with your body ever since you got pregnant. As that feeling filled up your whole body, you quickly started putting some clothes on, not able to look at yourself like that not even for one more second. Maybe he didn't like you in dresses, you wondered, trying to find a reasonable motive for his absence when it came to the moments of intimacy between you two that used to be so frequent and special in your relationship. Anyways, loose dresses were all that fit your body as your belly grew bigger and bigger each day.
It just broke your heart. The feeling of helplessness took over you as thick tears ran down your face, smearing the makeup you started to put on to see if it would make him even just a little bit interested in you. But just as all your other attempts, it was useless. You brought your soft palm to your mouth to muffle your sobs, but that only reminded you of how Daryl used to do the same exact thing to muffle your moans when he loved your body. More and more tears streamed down your cheeks as you reminisced your last time together like that.
You made a decision. You didn't want to suffer like that anymore, so you decided that you were gonna try to get his attention for the last time before shutting down completely. You didn't wanna give his love up, but you were so tired of practically begging for him only for him to brush you off every time. You sighed and looked at yourself on the mirror for the last time, wiping your tears away and taking a deep breath before going about your day.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀~Later that same day~
It was dark and Daryl still hadn't come home from his run. He was out scavenging, or hunting, you weren't even sure since you didn't bother to ask much. You had promised yourself that you were going to try to be intimate with him one last time, but that day he just vanished, leaving you waiting for him all day until you gave up waiting. You weren't only disappointed, you were almost angry at him, trying to give him a taste of his own medicine. But who were you trying to fool? That didn't make you feel better at all and you weren't sure if he noticed it.
It was happening again, that one familiar knot started forming in your throat as your lips pouted and you pulled the blanket over your head, feeling embarrassed at your own vulnerability. You brought a hand to your own belly, gently stroking it. Oh, how you loved that little bundle of happiness that was growing inside you. But at the same time, you felt so strange about it. You loved your baby, that's for sure, but you felt like it was the reason why Daryl didn't want you anymore. At the same time it made you hopeful of a new beginning in life, it was reminder of the day when Daryl stopped finding you attractive, even remotely.
Once again you weren't able to hold your sobs back, but this time, you were forced to abruptly swallow them down when you heard the creak sound of the door being gently pulled open. You knew who it was, and you almost wish you didn't.
“Pumpkin'?” Daryl's quiet voice filled the room as he called you that stupid nickname he only used when he knew you were feeling down. You didn't answer.
Light footsteps could be heard getting closer and closer to the bed before you felt the weight of his body on the edge of the mattress. “Y/N, hun'?” He called for you again, but when he got no answer for the second time, he reached for you, gently touching your arm from over the blanket.
“What do you want?" Your tone sounded a bit harsher than you intended to, but you didn't care. He sighed.
“I think we need ta talk, pumpkin'” He voice, making you even more frustrated.
“Quit calling me that, alright?” The muffled sound of your voice reached his ear, and he flinched a little at your sudden aggressiveness, removing his hand from you.
He was silent for a moment, digesting your strange reaction after speaking again with an even softer tone. “Aigh'.” He sighed. “Listen, Y/N...” It's like he was struggling to form a sentence. He was never really the type of person to have the right words or to know what to say to comfort somebody, but he tried nonetheless.
“I need ta know wha's happenin' if ya wan' me ta help.” He muttered. You almost felt guilty at the way you were treating him, but you had enough.
“Ugh, Daryl.” The way you said his name had a hint of scorn, a clear reflexion of the troubled feelings in your heart. You finally pulled the blanket off your face, lifting your body up to sit down on the mattress in a quick and almost aggressive motion. “Who the fuck said I need your help? Just leave me alone, ignore me like you always do.” You spitted out, looking deep into Daryl's widened out eyes. “I don't want you here.” You continued. You knew damn well you were saying all that because you thought that's how he felt, like some sort of revenge, but your heart was broken because of him. It was his fault and you were tired of pretending everything was okay. “Why don't you go fuck some other slut out there? Maybe they're better, thinner, prettier than me!” Your tone was filled with hurt as you voiced your insecurities. “Maybe you should be with them once and for all.” You practically whispered that last line, muttering under your breath.
The truth was you started considering the possibility of Daryl having an affair behind your back ever since you got pregnant. And you just couldn't take it, you couldn't help the way your heart shattered at the thought of Daryl putting his hand on another woman, making her feel good just how he used to do when he still loved you. You were so sure he hadn't left you yet just because he wouldn't be able to live with himself knowing that he left a pregnant woman behind. You knew that was the only reason was he still bothered to even talk to you.
Daryl was so dumbfounded by your attitude, since you were usually such a sweet and caring person, that he freezed. He didn't know what to say or do, so he just sit there, looking obviously negativity affected by your harsh words, wondering what the hell did he do to deserve that kind of treatment.
“Y/N-” He started talking, but you were having none of it. You spent so long begging him attention that now you just didn't want it anymore. When he threatened to scoop closer in a final attempt to ease things out, you surprised him by pushing him away from you with your hand pressed on his chest. “Get out!" You practically yelled. That was the most shocked you've ever seen Daryl's face before. After a moment, he averted his gaze to the floor, looking lost in thought before standing up and nodding slowly, knowing better than to push you harder. He walked to the door and closed it behind him, finally leaving you alone as you wanted him to. Or at least that's what you thought.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ *One week later*
You haven't seen Daryl since your last one-sided argument. If you missed him before, now the feeling got even worse. Ever since he closed that door a week ago, you haven't even heard of him. Maybe he'd left you for good. But could you blame him? You literally kicked him out of your life like it didn't matter. But after all, he was the one that made it feel like it didn't matter. That's what you had to keep feeling yourself, trying to comfort your poor soul or make yourself feel any less guilty. It didn't really work, though.
You tried. When he was gone for the first day, you wasted no time before trying to make it up to all the time you lost longing for him. You flirted with random men and women, trying to catch a glimpse of that feeling you used to get when Daryl gave you attention, but it wasn't the same, it didn't feel remotely similar. Maybe pushing him away like that was a mistake, maybe you had really lost him.
But fuck it. You were pregnant with his baby and he still had the gut to leave you behind. You had every single right to be mad and to try to restart your life, this time away from him. Even though it had been only one week, it felt like an eternity, every second he wasn't there made you feel every cell on your body begging for him, but you couldn't give in.
Sigh.
Spencer. You noticed the way he looked at you before and after you got pregnant. His gaze didn't change, he still licked his lips and looked you up and down with that stupid smirk on his face everytime you walked by. He was often the reason for arguments between you and Daryl when you were still together, but now, there was nothing stopping you. Not that you were attracted to him exactly, to be honest, he kind of annoyed you, but you just wanted to try. You just wanted to give yourself a chance to be loved, actually loved, not only for your looks. Deep inside, you knew you were just needy to feel something, anything, but you couldn't be blamed for wanting to feel okay after such a long time of feeling neglected.
You turned your head to search for him just to notice he was already staring from afar. You turned your head to face forward again, feeling a bit uncomfortable at the way he looked at you. Now that Daryl was gone, that type of behavior wasn't unusual coming from Spencer. He got even more spunky than before, flirting with you every single time he had the opportunity to. You swallowed your pride, trying to convince yourself that you were actually into him, taking a moment to decide whether or not to approach him and try something. You knew he wouldn't reject you, you just needed to dominate your heart that was still very much in love with Daryl and move on with your life, and maybe trying something with someone new was the first step to finally get over him.
As you gathered up the nerve to walk over to Spencer, slowly turning your body, you gasped in surprise noticing that he was already standing behind you. You were so lost in thought that you didn't even hear him approaching you.
“Easy there, doll.” He uttered. It felt weird to have anyone else that wasn't Daryl calling you pet names, but you quickly shook those thoughts away, trying to focus on the present. “Hey.” You answered, sounding significantly more uninterested than you meant to.
“What's eating you?” He pondered with a hint of playfulness in his voice and that stupid grin once again when he noticed your stiffness.
“Nothing.” You faked a smile. “What you been up to?” You tried to remain polite but flirty at the same time, trying your best to cover up how much you found him annoying. It was for the best, you thought. You just needed to adapt.
“Well...” He came closer. You had to fight all the urges to step away. “You know, the usual. I was just...” His fingers brushed your cheek before tugging a strand of hair behind your ear. Too close. But you continued playing along as he resumed his speech. “... Admiring your beauty.” God, could he get any cornier than that? It's like everyone that wasn't Daryl just looked so stupid trying to get your attention. There was you again, thinking about the archer. You sighed, failing to mask your lack of interest towards Spencer, but you managed to speak either way.
“Uh... Thanks...” You scratched the back of your head, feeling uncomfortable at his advances, but you tried to remind yourself that that whole thing meant a new start.
He looked so full of himself when he puffed his chest and had the audacity to say: “Can I follow you home?” You tilted your head in confusion. “Huh?” For the first time since you acknowledged his presence, he actually had your attention.
“Cause my parents always told me to follow my dreams.” He said that as if it was the most genius thing one could say. You had to make physical effort not to throw up or burst out laughing right there and then. The hell was that supposed to mean? Were you really the type of woman to fall for corny pick-up lines? But... You didn't really had other options. You had to give him a chance, maybe he was the one.
Either way, you couldn't bring yourself to say anything, so you just stood there with a stupid fake smile on your face. Spencer must've interpreted that as an invitation, because he leaned in, his face inches away from yours. You two weren't even 3 minutes into that conversation and he was already all over you. You wondered if that whole situation was awkward just for you, because he behaved as if he had you wrapped tight around his finger.
You really, really wanted to start running right away from him, but you were paralyzed, trying to decide if you should stay or go. But before you could make up your mind, he pulled you in by the back of your head, connecting your lips together.
Ugh.
It was probably the most awkward kiss of your life, as if you just forgot how to kiss in that moment. You widened your eyes out at the uncalled situation, and as he licked, bit and kissed your lips, yours remained stiff, like he was kissing you but you weren't kissing him. You felt deeply disgusted. What were you doing? Just like your lips, your arms were rigid on your sides, but his hands were roaming all over your body. You felt assaulted, even though you were allowing him to do that.
You wondered how the hell you ended up there: pregnant, with a missing boyfriend and making out with some douchebag out of emotional deprivation. In that moment, it finally clicked, you were just trying to fill the hole Daryl's absence left in your heart, and putting up with Spencer's audacious manners was no way of dealing with grief.
You finally pushed him away, accidentally sounding too annoyed. “See you around.” You spitted out before turning around and leaving him standing there in confusion, or maybe confidence, you didn't know since you didn't bother to study his reaction before quickly entering the house you were settled in in Alexandria.
You closed the door behind you, pressing your hands on your face, fighting the urge to scream and let all that frustration out. You slowly slid your back against the wooden door until your bottom reached the floor. If one word could describe you right now, it was helpless. For the hundredth time in the past few months, you started crying. It was like it was all you knew how to do since you lost control of your life. Oh, how you regretted that one moment 4 months ago where you slipped, causing your life to be destroyed right before your eyes while not being able to do a thing about it. Now not only you felt ugly, but you felt ugly and lonely. Your sobs got louder and louder as you wrapped your arms around your legs, lowering your head to press your forehead to your knees.
Knock-knock
Suddenly, you heard a knock at the door. You abruptly interrupted your crying, feeling embarrassed at the possibility that someone's heard you like that. After a few seconds, you heard another knock. You sighed.
“Leave me alone...” You muttered loud enough to be heard from the other side of the door. You knew it was probably Carol coming to visit, maybe bringing you some cookies or something like that to make you feel better. It was so sweet of her, but you hated how everyone was treating you ever since Daryl disappeared. You just couldn't take the look in their eyes, the so obvious pity they felt. After all, you were a recently abandoned mother, and Carol along with your other group mates, just wanted to be there for you. Little did they know they were just making it worse.
When you were starting to think the person finally left, you heard a third knock on the door. Whoever was there, didn't seem to be giving up soon. You almost felt grateful for having someone give a shit about you, but deep down you just wanted to be left alone. You breathed out for a last time before standing up with difficulty due to your heavy pregnant belly and reaching for the doorknob, contemplating whether you should let them in or not. Then, you turned it and slowly pulled the door open.
Your eyes remained glued to the floor, not having the courage to look into anyone's eyes right now. Then, to your surprise, a familiar hoarse voice made its way to your ears.
“The hell was tha'?” You swiftly lifted you chin up, locking eyes with him, the man who left you when you needed him the most. He definitely had seen your pathetic attempt of feeling appreciated with Spencer. For a millisecond, you were actually relieved to see Daryl, but quickly enough anger flooded your senses once again. It's like it was all coming back to you, the same exact feeling from one week ago when you saw him for the last time making your blood boil once again. How did he dare to disappear into the world and then come back as if nothing happened?
You didn't wanna waste no more time with him and that situation anymore, it was just too nerve-wracking and you just needed a break from all that. So you aggressively pushed the door aiming to slam it on his face, but he was more cunning and placed a hand on the way, stopping it from closing all the way.
“Please, Y/N!” He almost shouted, visibly impatient. You turned your back and started walking further into the house, ignoring his calls for you.
“Can ya please just talk ta me?!” He continued, following you around. You remained trying to disconsider his presence.
“Why r ya doin' this fer, woman?!” Now, he finally yelled. It was the first time he ever raised his voice at you. In that moment, you felt like any hint of the caring man you once loved had faded away forever. The feeling hit you like a truck and you stopped your angry steps, turning around so your back was facing him. You couldn't stop your tears from falling not even if you wanted to, and suddenly, all your anger was replaced with a deep sadness. You weren't even trying to muffle your loud noises, sniffing and sobbing hard. When he saw you like that, he decided to just drop it and pretend like he hadn't seen you kissing that bastard. It felt a sacrifice to him, but he didn't want to make you feel worse than you already did.
For a few moments, Daryl gave you some space, not trying to startle you or make things worse. Then, after a while of silence and almost feeling as if you were alone in the room, you felt a warm breath hitting your ear. Shivers ran down your spine, something you hadn't felt in such a long time.
He studied your reaction, and when he felt it was okay to touch you, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling your back closer to his chest. That made you cry even harder, the sting in your heart getting worse. But at the same time, it felt so good to finally be in his embrace once again. You had missed his strong arms and his warmth so bad, it was a mix of confusion and relief. You wanted to push him away, yell at him, tell him to go, but the second his scent of cigarettes and wet grass filled your nose, you knew you wouldn't be able to. That's how much you missed him, though you weren't ready to asmit it just yet.
“Jus'... lemme talk to ya..." He whispered, placing a soft kiss to the skin behind your ear. And just like that, you melted in his hands. You had no idea what to say, but you were willing to listen to whatever came out of his mouth.
“I jus' wanna know wha' happened. I understand, 'm s'pposed ta know and 'm a dick fer not knowing, but... If ya don' talk ta me, I... I jus' won' know how ta make things righ'.” He was so gentle with his words, so caring. He sounded actually worried, making the situation so puzzling to you. You opened to mouth to speak, but nothing came out of it.
“Ya said sumthin' 'bout me goin' out with other women...” He spoke after a few seconds. “Wha'... Wha' was that all about? I would never...” Daryl didn't really have a way with his words, but you could see he was putting effort into talking to you and trying to fix things. The way he kept you tightly into his hug and his fingers brushed gently against your arm were actually being helpful, and your sobs slowly faded away as your tears stopped falling.
“You don't want me anymore." That's all you managed to speak before you felt tears threatening to fall once again, but you inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, trying to keep calm. You couldn't see his face, but Daryl furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.
“Wha'd'ya mean, hun'?” Those pet names never failed to make you weak in the knees. “I couldn't ever, ever stop wantin' ya. Ever.” He whispered the last word. As he did so, he traveled one hand down your plump belly, caressing it ever so gently. It almost made you want to cry again.
“Then where did you go? Why'd you leave me? Why'd ya even come back?” Even though you stopped crying, your voice was still unstable.
“...'Cuz ya asked me ta and I... I wanted ta respect yer choice. 'M here now 'cuz... I can't live withoutcha. I... need a second chance.” Now, he was the one with a shaky voice. Seeing him like that broke your heart.
“I told you to leave because I didn't wanna force you to be with me. I didn't...” You gulped. “I didn't wanna baby trap you or something like that, I don't know...” You sniffed. Throughout that whole conversation, you kept your arms stiff. But then, you lifted one of them to wipe your nose with back of your hand.
“...I don' get it.” He mouthed. You sighed, finally turning to look at him. After such a long time, looking into his eyes was a remedy to your infirm heart.
“Look, Daryl, I know I'm not in my best shape, alright? I know this whole 'baby' thing changed me, I know that my body ain't the same anymore. All these stretch marks, my face, my belly, I know it all deforms me and...” He just stood there with an unreadable expression. “...And you have every reason not to find me attractive anymore, and I'm just so sorry that I kept pushing you into having sex with me, I should've just given you some space, I...” Those stubborn tears you've been trying to hold back finally get the best of you. “I'm sorry that I snapped at you, I'm sorry that I've been such a bitch, you... You shouldn't see me like this, and... And I-”
Daryl interrupted your babbling nonsense, grabbing your face with both of his hands and pulling you in for what felt like your first kiss. It was probably the most gentle you've ever been kissed in your whole life. You didn't know you craved the warmth of his calloused hands against your wet cheeks that badly until you had it. Everytime a thick tear dared to run down your beautiful face, he quickly wiped it away with his thumbs. After what felt like an eternity, he slowly broke the kiss, but remained with his forehead pressed against yours.
“Yer the most beautiful woman 've ever seen.” His sweet whispers made you finally feel safe after feeling lost for so long. “N there's nuthin', nuthin' in this world tha' could ever change tha'.” You were left speechless as he contradicted you. “If only ya knew how badly I wanted ta touch ya... It's not easy seein' you walk 'round all heavy with ma babies, knowin' I was the one tha' made ya like this n not bein' able to eat you up alive... God, ya look so...” He let out a guttural grunt. “...So fuckin' hot.”
Your mind was rushing. So this whole time he didn't think you looked terrible? He actually... Liked it? In your head, it made no sense.
“If you wanted me so badly, then why did you reject me over and over again?” There was a very obvious hint of hurt in your voice, like you were trying hard to believe his words but your own insecurities were stopping you. He averted his gaze from your eyes for the first ever since you broke the kiss. For a moment, he looked in a contemplative state.
“I got scared.” He admitted. Your eyes narrowed.
“...Of what?” You asked. What could ever make Daryl, the most brave man you know, scared?
“Hurtin' ya.” You tilted your head, still not convinced of his reasons. Your silence served as a cue for him to resume speaking. “Seein' you like this... I jus' wanted ta protect you. I... I never thought I'd ever have a child of my own 'n... I don' know how ta say this, but...” His thumb brushed against your cheek once again. “...I thought ya were doin' this fer me. I thought maybe, I dunno... Maybe you felt like ya had to be there fer me, y'know, sexually...” He was stuttering and struggling to speak his mind. “I felt like if I said yes... I'd be forcin' ya.” He placed a peck on your soft lips. “But I do wan' ya. 'Ve been wantin' ta have ma way with ya fer so long...” He closed his eyes.
“Then what's stopping you?” You challenged him. You almost felt stupid for thinking he didn't want you that whole time and he was actually just trying to protect you. As those words left your mouth, his eyes snapped open, and suddenly, they had a different aura to them. They were darker.
I'm a swift motion, Daryl pulled you in for another kiss, but this time, a more needy one. Though his touch showed he was aching for you, it was still gentle. He didn't wanna hurt you, after all you were still pregnant.
He gently bit down on your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth before letting it snap back. His piercing gaze found yours and the way he smirked at you made your body tremble in anticipation.
His hands found the strap of your dress, slightly fidgeting with the tied bow strap over your shoulder just to tease you. And when he finally undid it, your dress slid down your body and onto the floor, revealing your semi-bareness to him.
That's when it kicked again, your self-consciousness taking a hold of you and in a flash, you felt the urge to cover yourself up. Daryl hadn't seen you naked ever since the last time you were intimate together, you two even stopped showering at the same time due to all of the previous misunderstandings. It almost felt like one of those dreams where you're completely naked in school, vulnerably standing in front of the judging eyes of everyone else, even though you were still in your underwear. As you felt your face warming up in embarrasement, you shifted your hands to your swollen breasts and your legs instinctively closed.
Your shy manners didn't go unnoticed by Daryl's attentive eyes. “Hun'...” He brought his hands to your own, softly stroking them until you eased your grasp on your breasts. “Ya can trust me.” He murmured. You took a deep breath and you finally let your hands fall to the side, fully revealing your bra to his sight. A smirk tugged on the corner of his mouth and he looked lost in your beauty.
“God, look at those tits...” He said mainly to himself. The way your breasts were all swollen, all heavy with milk awakened desires within him he didn't even know he had. He reached behind your back to unclasp your bra, removing it and tossing it aside.
He wondered how he was able to deny his attention to those beauties for so long. If he had properly talked to you about his intentions from the beginning, probably none of that misinterpretation would've happened, he thought. But that time wasn't one to mourn, but to cherish. Without warnings, he grasped one of your nipples with his mouth like a starving man while gently but firmly squeezing your other one. You let out a small squeak of pleasure, blushing at his sudden eagerness. Some of your milk leaked, and he was quick to lap at the liquid, wasting none of it. The sweet and mild taste of your essence coated his tongue, sending shock waves of ecstasy all the way down to his cock and in no time, his pants started feeling way too tight. But in that moment, he just wanted to make you feel good and appreciated, so he payed little to no mind to his forming erection.
“Ya taste so fuckin' good.” He groaned against your skin. You were too embarrassed to say anything, but you loved when he talked dirty like that to you, it made your pussy even wetter if that was even possible. He kept his attention to your breasts for a while, teasing, flicking and sucking on them until your nipples felt sore. Then, he made a trail of kisses from your under boob until his lips reached your belly button, slowly sinking down on his knees. He placed soft kisses all over your round belly.
“Look at ya, carryin' ma babies like a good girl.” He looked up at you for a moment, biting his lips at you. You gave him a shy smile, clearly affected by his sweet praising, and he found you so adorable like that. He'd been wanting to put his hands on you for so, so long and he finally had the opportunity to. You looked prettier than ever and he was determined to convince you.
“Let's get ya settled, yea?” And with that, he carefully picked you up bridal style, paying attention not to hurt you. He carried you to the couch, laying you down on it on your back, too eager to go upstairs and to your room, he wanted it there and then. Now, feeling a little more confident thanks to all his praising, your legs instinctively spread themselves out for him, revealing a wet stain on your white panties, clear sign of your arousal.
That sight made a smirk creep on his face, his hands roaming up and down your legs as he pulled them even further apart. “Is this all fer me?” He asked, even though he already knew the answer. You were so visibly surrendered to him, he could see how much you missed him because he shared the same exact longing.
His hands slowly made their way down to your core, his thumb gently rubbing your clit in circling motions over the fabric of your panties. You were so desperate to feel anything that you felt like his most subtle touch could make you cum in the same second. Still, you wanted more. You needed more.
“D-Dar...” You muttered under your breath, throwing your head back as his finger starting working your clit a bit faster and adding a little more pressure. “Wha' is it, doll, hm? Tell me what ya need.” His teasing words only made you more hungry for him. “Mmm...” You protested, struggling to put your desires into words. “C'mon, jus' say the word and I'll give it ta ya.” He encouraged you with the sweetest tone, slowing down his motions against your extremely sensitive clit just to tease you.
“Eat my fucking cunt like you mean it.” You spitted out, your voice all shaky with need, and even you were surprised at your own bold words.
“Don' need ta tell me twice.” He said before pulling your panties to the side in one swift motion and diving into your wetness, quickly starting his assault on your clit and lapping at your folds. He practically buried his face into you, eating you out like it was the last time. Your back arched in that same second and you already felt embarrassingly close to orgasming. He noticed the way you squirmed and moaned for him, grasping his hair with both hands and humping his face, smearing your slickness all over his handsome features.
And he let you use him for your pleasure however you pleased. That night was about you and about making up to all that wasted time. “D-Daryl...!” Your tone was one of warning. You were barely two minutes in but you could already feel the first orgasmic contractions forming in your lower belly. The way you said his name, he knew damn well you were about to make a mess on his face, and he was all in for it.
You threw your head back and let out a loud high-pitched moan as you coated his tongue with your wetness, and all he could do was hum against your sensitive skin, sending vibrations all over your cunt and intensifying the sensation. Despite your first signs of overstimulation, he continued enthusiastically lapping at your juices until you were a quivering mess under his tongue. You had to manually give his head a very gentle push so you could have a break from that intense pleasure. You chuckled at his excitement to please you. If you had ever felt insecure about any of that before, you couldn't remember it.
He lifted his head up, placing tender kisses on your pregnant belly once again, stroking it lovingly. “Ya want me ta fuck ya, darlin'?” He said as he crawled up your body, getting face to face with you. You wrap your arms around his neck, forcing his lips against yours in a sensual dance. “'M takin' that as a yes” He voiced with a hint of playfulness. The thought of being inside you made his cock throb even harder inside his pants, and he knew he just couldn't wait any longer. He reached for his belt, quickly unbuckling it and taking it off. Then, he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, pushing it down his thighs alongside with his black briefs just enough to free his cock.
Oh, you missed it so fucking badly. You two used to fuck like rabbits before, and after going 4 whole months without getting dicked down by your man, you were more than desperate to feel him. Now, you finally understood your pregnancy wasn't any type of obstacle for sharing pleasure with him.
You stared down at his now visible erection. He was girthy, and you could feel your cunt stretching out just by looking at him. A small droplet of pre-cum threatened to run down his length, from the tip all the way down to his full balls. When you averted your gaze to his face, you could see he was admiring you while you took in the sight of his cock. Your eyes got all sparkly in anticipation, sharing a knowing look with him. You didn't have to say anything and he was always brushing his tip on your slit.
He gently tapped your clit with his tip, watching closely for your reaction, his smirk not fading away not even for one second. Your pussy was so slippery with your wetness that when he pressed his cock against your slit, it went in with ease.
“Fuck.” You moaned in unison. The feeling of his cock going in for the first time was always one of your favorite parts of fucking Daryl. He tried to hold back a little, still careful not to hurt you since you were pregnant after all, but when you wrapped your legs around his waist, he couldn't help but bury his whole cock inside you in one harsh thrust, yearning loud moans from both of you.
You didn't care at all if it hurt or not, you just needed to feel him inside you. He shut his eyes tight and it was obvious that he was fighting the urge to burst right in that same second. He gritted his teeth and leaned in to press his forehead against yours, slowly starting to move his hips. He wasn't exactly thrusting, it was more like humping his cock inside you, which made you grow more and more impatient. You needed him to pound you.
“P-please, Daryl, just... just fuck me already.” The clear frustration on your voice did it for him, and in no time, he started harshly banging his hips against yours, giving you no time to adjust to the pace. Squelching sounds, your moans and the sound of your skins slapping against each other filled the room in a dirty orchestra. The intense smell of sex made you dizzy.
You were so cock-hungry you could fuck that man for days straight without breaks, and as he gently groped your pregnant belly, you knew he wanted you just as much. You couldn't hold back a smile at the sensation of his palms and fingers gently caressing you, contrasting with his hard thrusts inside your pussy.
It was your favorite whenever he treated you like that, with a mix of tenderness and an urge to absolutely rail you. “Fuck, feels so fuckin' good inside this wet cunt.” The archer almost sounded vulnerable. “'M gunna give ya even more babies, princess.” He whispered, his voice a little more high-pitched than usual. The thought of feeling his warm load inside you again made your mind rush and once again, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your high.
As the pleasure grew more intense, your tight walls clenched around Daryl's thick cock, making his legs tremble as he struggled to keep his composure. “Shit baby, if ya keep squeezin' me tight like tha' 'm not gunna last long.” He admitted through gritted teeth. “Don't hold back, give it to me.” Your encouragement words only fueled Daryl's desires even further.
You felt so full, his thrusts getting deeper and deeper, filling you up to the brim. He was still holding onto your round belly, gently not to hurt you, and when you clenched your cunt around him one last time, he moaned louder than ever before.
“Fuckin' take it!” His whole body was shaking as his orgasm coursed through his body. The sight of him like that was so sexy, so dirty and raw that you couldn't help but squirt all over his cock. You didn't even know you could do that, and Daryl looked just as surprised as you as you drenched his cock and lower belly with your arousal. He buried his length deep inside you one last time as the final spurts of his warm cum coated your insides, keeping that position.
“I love ya, Y/N. Dontcha ever forget that again, woman.” He said, placing sweet little pecks all over your face, making you giggle like a little child. “Yer stuck with me. Both of ya.” His hand never left your pregnant belly that whole time, and now, he gently brushed his thumb on it.
“I love you more.” You confessed, bringing a hand to his cheek to cup it, feeling the rough texture of his salt-and-pepper facial hair against your soft hand. As he slightly shifted his position with his cock still deep inside you, you felt how he was still rock hard and ready for you. After such a long waiting, he wasn't ready to stop just yet.
“Round two?” You asked, already predicting his answer.
“Fuck yeah.”
a/n: hi there!! just passing by to thank you for reading this. i know it's not even close to perfect but it took me 10+ hours to write, so i really appreciate you if you read it this far! as i've said before, i'm a beginner writer, so i'm still on the process of adapting and i'm really thankful for all the support you've been showing me. see ya!
Daryl gets flustered seeing y/n thong when she bends over and needs her now. Established relationship, jealousy, mostly gentle but sub reader, extra points for ass man Daryl. <3
Can you grab this for me?
A/N: love this idea❤️ thanks for requesting, love writing for you all!
WARNINGS: unprotected sex, fingering, teasing, yeah yeah yeah 18+
“Daryl!” You yell out, your voice echoing through the empty abandoned house.
You waited, arms reaching, standing on your tippy toes trying to reach a can of food in the cabinet of the house you and Daryl were searching. The counter was filled with trash and covered in dust leaving no room for you to be able to jump onto the counter in your usual manner in times like this.
“Daryl!” You call out once more, irritation lacing your tone this time.
You hear a thump from the upstairs before he comes flying down the steps to your rescue, fear suddenly coursing through him. He stops abruptly, watching you try to jump up to reach something in the cabniet, just hoping your finger tips would be able to touch it.
He couldn’t help but notice everytime you jumped your shirt rose up slightly, revealing the straps of a red thong, siting just above the hem of your jeans on your hips, his face instantly curling up into a smirk, your head snaps back to his, you were frustrated, narrowing your eyes at him.
“Are you just going to stand there and stare at me or are you going to help me grab this?” You snap, wondering why a shit eating grin was covering his face.
Daryl snorts at your attitude. Suddenly feeling the blood from his cheeks rush to his lap at the thought of you bent over that counter in that very sexy red thong.
“Oh, I’ll help ya grab somethin’.” He smirks, slapping your ass and giving it a slight squeeze emitting a small yelp out of you.
“Daryl!” You swat at him.
He effortlessly reaches up grabbing the can, handing it to you. Your cheeks red at his actions. You mumble a small thank you suddenly feeling shy as you lean down, pulling your bag from beside the counter and putting the food in it.
Once again, in Daryls favor you flash him with your thong once more.
“How many times ya gonna flash me with these?” He asks, his fingers catching the string of them and letting it snap back against your skin. “You been wearin’ these all day?”
You try to stand up but his hands instantly push your back down, leaving you bent over in front of him. Your breathing hitches when a pair of warm hands catches your hips, touching the exposed skin from your shirt raising up.
“Y-yes.” You stutter suddenly feeling stupid, you didn’t even realize that you have most likely been flashing people all day,
The jealously was surging over Daryl. He kept thinking about everytime you bent over who was looking at you and who saw what was only his to see? The thought made him want to go home and beat every man at Alexandria bloody.
“M’ the only one who gets ta see this.” He rubs his hands down to your ass, smacking it again. “Ain’t that right?”
“Yes, Daryl.” You breathe. “All yours.”
Daryl knew exactly how to get you to fall apart in his hands, sometimes with a single touch. It was one of things you hated most about your relationship with him, how at anytime, anywhere, you were ready for him.
His fingertips softly ghosting your skin, he runs them over your sides to your stomach, unbuttoning your jeans.
“Daryl,” you stop him, grabbing his wrist. “What if someone sees? Rick and Michonne-“
“Don’t care.” He says unphased. “Need ya, so bad.”
You slowly let go of him with shaky hands, you shiver against his touch, revealing in it. Your eyes close as his hand dips into your jeans, his finger tips running up and down the already wet thinned cloth of your thong.
“Shit, Y/N.” He grunts. “Yer already so wet and I ain’t even done nothing to ya.”
You blush. “Always ready for you, Dar.”
You could feel his erection against your ass making you more needy. You try to wiggle onto to him but his hand stops you smacking you harshly, you whimper.
“Needy little slut ain’t ya?” He chuckles.
“I need you, please.” You pant.
Oh, he needed you more. He thought. Your clit was now throbbing, you were basically dripping, you knew by now your panties were drenched. You were aching for him in every way.
His finger dips inside your thongs, you gasp as his finger tip runs up and down your wet slit, easily moving. He’s teases your enterance making you groan in frustration.
“Don’t be a tease.” You breathe, voice hoarse and needy.
“Oh like how you been today?”
Your head falls in pleasure as he gives in, easing one thick finger inside you, stretching you out. He continuously hits your sweet spot deep inside you. Your hips buck back to him, causing him to add another finger, you moan. Your thighs start to shake as your body starts reaching your climax, not being able to hold yourself up much longer.
“Daryl, I-I’m-“ you moan, your walls convulsing around him. “Gonna cum.”
Daryl smirks, suddenly his hand come out of your pants, fingers covered in your arousal. You clench around nothing, still throbbing. Aggravation floods your body. Your body turns to face him quickly, pushing his shoulders back, he doesn’t even budge.
“What the fuck was that for?” You snap.
“Not coming unless it’s on my cock, pretty thing.” He says, pulling you back into him. “Only I can take care of ya pretty little pussy, remember that.”
Your anger fades away as his lips attack your neck, softy and gently. You quickly break the kiss to yank your pants off, he unbottons his quickly. His hands go underneath your thighs signaling you to jump which you do, he catches you with ease, backing you up against the closest wall.
Your throw your arms around his neck as he kisses your neck again, he grabs his erection putting it against your soaking wet entrance, his tip rubbing up and down your slit, you whimper, your grasp tightening on him.
“Ready?” He whispers and you nod.
He flexes his hips, his erection sliding into you, filling you up. He grunts as he bottoms out, you gasp, enjoying the feeling of him stretching you out as pleasure shoots across your body.
“Fuck,” he grunts, his rythym speeding up. “Miss ya tight little pussy so much.”
“Ah,” you moan, burying your face into his warm neck.
His hips continue to rock into you, pushing you harder up against the wall. The wet sounds filling the air. He felt amazing in you causing you to throw your head back against the wall.
“Dar,” you whimper. “You feel so g-good.”
“Yeah baby?” He says through clenched teeth.
Your legs wrap around him tighter, you could’ve sworn you felt him in your belly. His breathing labored, you clench around him, pulsing. Your hands twist in his hair causing him to groan in pleasure. You snap, your climax coating him as he releases inside you.
“Fuck,” he mumbles, breathing heavily into your neck. “Fucking hell.”
“That was,” you start, your breathing matching his. “That was amazing.”
He pulls out, leaving you empty, missing the feel of him. He sets you down and your legs wobble a bit and he catches you quickly, steadying you. You giggle as you hold onto his wrists.
“Can ya walk?” He grins, full of pride.
“What can I say, Dixon? It’s all your fault.” You smile.
You slip your pants back on, along with your thong, feeling the sweet stickiness from his climax dripping out of you, you groan, the sticky feeling between your thighs being too much.
“What’s wrong?”
“You’re dripping out of me, literally.”
He laughs pulling you into him, sweetly kissing your lips and tapping your butt before releasing you.
“What can I say? It’s all your fault.”
reflection.
daryl dixon x fem!reader
warnings: nsfw, pwp (porn without plot/plot what plot), rough sex, hair pulling, swearing, slight choking, praising, unprotected p-in-v, daddy kink, spanking, creampie
summary: daryl overhears you talking down on yourself in front a mirror and decides to teach you a lesson.
wc: 764
daryl grabs a fistful of your hair, tugging your face upwards until your eyes lock onto the reflection of both of you in the mirror. your hair is all messy and disheveled, your makeup all smudged, and dizziness clouds your vision. your mind strains to grasp simple things, such as daryl's gruff voice near your ear, as he instructs: "now, say it." you instantly becomes flustered, unconsciously attempting to hide your face in embarrasement but being stopped by daryl wrapping his arm around your neck, keeping your head still and forcing you to stare at yourself in the mirror.
you open your mouth as if you aim to say something, but nothing comes out of it. the intense pleasure and pain from the relentless pouding of daryl's hips against your own is everything you're able to acknowledge right now, while you literally drool onto his arm. daryl can't hide a smirk, proud to be the one making you so obviously cock-drunk. even so, he insists, his voice a low whisper: "ya betta say it before i make ya regret disobeying me."
a shiver runs down your spine. then, you force your brain to think. you'd never forgive yourself if you disappointed him and you know damn well how you got yourself into this situation. early on today, daryl had overheard you talking down on yourself and your looks in front of this same mirror he's rearranging your guts right now, and he could never let something like that slide. you knew exactly what you had to say.
"-m pwetty..." you mumble, almost inaudible, your eyes threatening to close. you feel daryl lean in, his warm breath against your ear.
"nuh-uh. look at yerself, look how pretty ya look takin' ma cock. c'mon, sunshine, let daddy hear ya." he demands, leaving no room for backtalk. you shudder under his touch, not daring to defy him:
"i-i'm pretty..." you repeat a little more clearer this time, making sure to be staring at yourself in the mirror as you say it. your face gets all red and you trap your bottom lip between your teeth, the slight pressure of daryl's arm around your neck making your head even more empty.
"good fuckin' girl." he praises, placing a gentle kiss to the side of your head before fastening his thrusts, his hips stuttering a little. he finally lets go of your hair to land a harsh smack to your ass, making you gasp in surprise. he firmly grasps your ass, his fingernails digging into your skin as he starts kissing and licking your neck. he's getting extra touchy now, which always means that he's on the edge of cumming. he lands another sharp slap to your ass before moving his hand to grab your waist forcefully, extracting pathetic squeaky sounds from you.
his breathing becomes labored and heavy and he guides a hand to your clit, rubbing tight, fast circles on it, aiming to initiate your own orgasm. he doesn't fail as you feel that familiar knot forming in your lower belly. your legs start to shake and you struggle to keep yourself on your feet. almost as the same time as your high hits you, daryl lets out a guttural moan before your tight velvety walls send him over the edge, making him shoot his load deep inside you. he stops his thrusting, now he sort of humps your insides while he releases spurt after spurt of thick cum inside your cunt.
you both stay in that position for a while, trying to catch your breaths. daryl chuckles a little, causing you to smile alongside him. he places a few kisses to your shoulders before removing his cock from you, leaving you with an empty sensation. he observes as his abundant cum oozes out of your hole, dripping down your legs. then, he lifts his head, eyeing your reflexion on the mirror and resting his chin on your shoulder:
"nobody ever has to right to talk down on ya, princess. not even yerself. so next time ya try to ignore how pretty ya actually are, ya betta be sure 'm not 'round to hear." despite his gruffy tone, you can't help but melt in his arms, his unconditional love almost palpable. you close your eyes for a moment, but you're able to feel his face contorting into a smile. "i love ya, sunshine."
a/n: this is my first time ever attempting to write anything longer than one paragraph lol (and it still came out so short) so lmk if this sucks ass. btw english is not my first language so there might be a little misspelling or weird phrasing here and there lol
cockwarming with daryl <3
the sound of your whines filled the room, echoing against the walls as you squirmed on daryl’s lap.
your cunt was stuffed full of his cock while he sat, casually sharpening the blade of his knife.
although he told you to wait, you were desperate for his touch.
your pussy clenched around his length, evoking a slight groan out of him.
“come on daryl, stop being so fucking stubborn.”
daryl’s hands gripped your hips tightly, halting your movement and holding you still. his nails dug painfully into your soft skin.
“i told you not to move,” he muttered through gritted teeth, obviously fed up with your antics.
you whined again in response. “please? can’t you finish up later?”
in an attempt to crack him, you fully ground your hips down on his cock.
daryl grasped your hips even rougher than before. “can’t take ‘no’ for an answer, can ya?” your disregard for his orders finally sent him over the edge. “who taught you to be such a fuckin’ brat?”
Sins and Honey Flavored Sweetness
daryl x fem!reader
wordcount: 4.7k
warnings: 18+, MDNI, smut under the cut, perv!daryl (not really, he just has a lil crush), male masturbation, unprotected p-in-v, oral f!receiving, mutual pining
a/n: i have never written something so descriptive ohmygod. do be warned lol, hugs and kisses byeee <33
Daryl knew there were unspoken boundaries when it came to you.
A thin line of loose salt, that whispered to him. Beckoned him huskily to dust his fingers through and have a taste, but daunting enough for him to keep his soles rooted in the dirt, salivating from a distance.
It wasn’t because you were already spoken for in any way; if anything, you kept your romantic interests simmering farther on the back burner than he did, which spoke volumes in itself. Or because you were younger than him, a couple of years wasn’t anything to turn a nose up over, especially nowadays.
It was, however, the place you held amongst your people. You were like bright, shiny gold within the group, dared not to be corrupted or led astray. The heart that kept everyone’s beating, even in the darkest of times, soothing hope into the atmosphere with your infectious smile.
Oh, and you were Rick's younger sister... which he hated to admit, only tempted him more. And he wasn’t quite sure as to why.
He’d mulled it over too many times to count, noting everything about you that allured him so intensely.
He liked the contrast between you two; like sun rays peeking through the clouds after a mid-summer storm. You were soft, fresh as clean linen and he was dark, brooding. He often fantasized about taking that sweet innocent nature of yours and painting it with his essence. He knew it was wrong and constantly shamed himself for having such perverted thoughts about his best friend's sister. But, god, how could he not?
Not when you pranced around him daily, teasing him with your velvety, feminine voice and kind touches. Touches that sent brisk shivers down his spine, sure to leave him breathless and bothered — another thing he secretly liked. You were addictive in that sense, he’d distance himself the minute he felt the familiar rush coursing through his veins and then crave it immediately once it was gone. A drug he couldn’t help but relapse from.
And it didn’t help that you were always so keen to assist him, doting on his every injury or problem with such gentle attentiveness and sincerity. That might be what he liked the most. It was fascinating how pure you remained in a world so plagued, always ready to nurture. It soothed a deep, restless, and scarred part of him, finding solace in it.
He'd come to learn you were like that with everyone though. So, he found himself grappling with things to deter your attention his way, playing dumb and clumsy just to have your sweet scent fill the nearby air. He felt like a horny teenager with a hopeless crush. It was absolutely ridiculous and yet, here he was once again, feet dangling off your kitchen counter as you searched the cabinets for some aspirin to aid in his 'headache'.
It wasn't a complete lie per se - his sensitivity to light gave him troubles quite often but, whether it was enough to complain about or not, could be debated.
Nonetheless, he sat for you patiently, listening to your quiet humming as you searched about. He loved when you did that, singing your soft melodies under your breath mindlessly. It was such a girly thing to do, but it was comforting in a way, an airy blanket warming the silence.
"Ah, here it is!" drew him out of his thoughts, and he cast a glance at your bright smile of accomplishment. You popped the cap open swiftly, shaking out 2 little white pills, and handed them over with a glass of water.
“Let me know if you need any more. They should kick in soon, but I know how tough migraines can be,” you soothed, your sympathy never faltering. He bowed his head quickly, not wanting you to see the flash of guilt that surely crossed it. "Thanks," he mumbled as he tossed his head back, swallowing them both with a shivered grimace.
Wiping the water droplets from his chapped lips, his eyes found yours again and noticed a small smirk hidden in your features. “What?”
You let out a chuckle, reaching for the glass he held to wash, “Oh nothin’... just don’t think I’ve seen you cringe like that before, is all.”
His brows furrowed at your statement, “So?” he questioned further.
“Walkers, blood, rotting flesh… never. But an itty bitty pill?” Your laugh grew louder, finding the situation even more amusing as you explained it to him. “Whatever,” he scoffed, hopping off the counter with a smirk. He knew you would be expecting him to leave after that, you had helped him with his ‘issue of the day’ and there was no reason to linger any further. But he did.
Daryl scanned your frame as you washed the few dishes that were in the sink, chewing on his thumb habitually. You wore a white, long-sleeve shirt with a faded band logo printed on the front and some beaten-up blue jeans that seemed to cup your ass perfectly.
His mind wandered before he could stop it, imagining how soft and warm your skin must be underneath all those clothes. How soft and warm your hands would be wrapped around him, or better yet, your pretty lips taking him deep with a moan. He felt his own jeans tighten slightly and quickly diverted his gaze to the floor, clearing his throat as if it would erase those thoughts from his brain.
“Something else you need, Daryl?” You glanced over your shoulder, wrists deep in soapy water.
“Nah, uh, thanks. I’ll see ya later,” he said and beelined for the door praying to god you didn’t see his flushed face and half-hard cock poking through his pants. He was so fucked. Couldn’t even look at you anymore without sprouting boners and picturing you on them, milking him greedily.
He rushed down the porch and across the lawn, bursting into his shared house with Carol just next door. He didn’t even glance toward the kitchen to see if his friend was home, desperate for a cold shower to level him out. The house was dead quiet anyway, leading him to assume Carol was out for the day.
"Such a fuckin idiot," he cursed himself under his breath as he made his way down the stairs to his room. You probably knew honestly. Could tell how pathetically bothered you got him, and just put on a friendly face to keep from embarrassing him.
He left the bathroom door open in his distress and hastily shed his clothing, stepping into the tepid water. Immediate relief flooded his senses, feeling the cool stream wash away the sweat and grime the day had caked on. Pouring some homemade soap he was given into his hand, he scrubbed at his skin, determined to rid himself of your previous interaction along with the dirty thoughts that plagued his mind. He shouldn’t be thinking about you that way, it just wasn’t in the cards.
For starters, you would have to want him too, (which he knew would never happen), and even if you did, how the ever living fuck would he explain that to Rick?
‘Oh hey Rick, I have a massive hard-on for yer sister, you okay with that?’ Fuck no. Just thinking about that conversation had him cringing in awkwardness and he shut the idea down instantly.
But there you were still, invading his thoughts with your dreamy laugh and perky attitude. Why did you have to be such a goddamn tease?
He leaned forward, resting his hands on the wall trying to regain some composure. He gulped down deep breaths of moist air, willing his body to calm itself down, but it was fruitless. The image of your body, pushed up against the wall under his hands, wet and flushed, bubbled to the surface. He groaned. Daryl knew what he had to do. It wasn’t the first time he had gotten off thinking about you, and he damn well knew it wasn’t gonna be the last, but it still felt wrong each time, pumping his cock when you were just next door. His body craved the relief though, relief only indulgence could satisfy.
He hissed as he dragged his fingers along his shaft, gripping at the base and beginning to pump slowly. He was painfully hard at this point, each squeeze raking shivers over his damp skin while he choked out quiet moans. With his opposite hand, he flicked the water to a warmer setting, pitifully hoping the heat and steam would resemble something close to your body against his. God, if only you were here.
He sped up, swiping his thumb over his sensitive tip with each pass, sending jolts throughout his body. “Oh, fuck,” he groaned deep and husky, not a care for the noise filling the empty house.
You were there, clear as day in his mind, moaning along with him as he pounded into you, cunt gripping him like a vice. Your breath was hot and pitchy against his ear as you begged him to fuck you harder, to go faster, to cum deep inside you. His cock twitched at that, he was already so close.
“Fuck, y/n, baby,” he whined, humping erratically into his long-forgotten hand. The muscles in his stomach quivered in bliss as he stroked himself, lost in his detailed imagination. You were cumming, trembling around him in languid spasms with his seed spilling out of you, and Daryl was over the edge, tossing his head back moaning your name as he unloaded, letting the steamy water wash it away.
It took him a few minutes to recover, catching his breath slowly and trying to avoid the guilt that would soon be settling in. What would you think of him if you knew what he did behind muffled walls? How he thought of you in such dirty ways, when you’d only ever see him as a dear friend. He wondered what you might be doing now. Traipsing around your cozy home, oblivious to his rapid, lustful heart meters away.
The water was beginning to run frigid and he let out a defeated sigh. Absentmindedly, he reached past the curtain for a towel and stepped out, drying his hair off roughly and then wrapping the towel around his waist, turning to the bedroom for fresh clothes and much-needed sleep. His mind ached to be thoughtless, consumed by the abyss of unconsciousness.
He should have known the world stopped playing fair long ago.
In a single moment, his heart stopped and his stomach dropped to the fucking depths of hell.
There you stood, feet frozen to the floor with his crossbow in hand, like he willed you into existence. He stuttered, his mouth opening and closing like a blubbering fish. He was sure his eyes were the size of saucers, he could feel them ready to pop out of his skull and run away. There was no fucking way this was happening.
Several beats passed. The silence deafening between you both and for a moment, he honestly debated stepping back into the shower. Pretend you were a figment of his tortured imagination and just hope you’d go away. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d seen ghosts.
“You uh- you forgot your crossbow when you rushed out today,” you finally broke the silence, solidifying your genuine presence. He glanced down to the bow and then back at you, lost for words. Did you hear him? He moaned your goddamn name, quite a few minutes ago though… had you been standing there long? Were you angry?
His racing thoughts were interrupted when you stepped towards him, leaning the bow against the doorframe and moving closer. Instinctively, he took a step back, “Thanks,” he replied shakily, but you kept moving closer. He noticed your gaze then. It wasn’t on his face, but on his abdomen, at the hem of the damp towel hanging off of him. Your eyes had a gleam to them. Something dark and lustful.
No. Surely, he was reading you wrong.
“Daryl,” you spoke, and he audibly gulped, nervousness and absolute embarrassment flooding his system, “is there something you need to tell me?”
He didn’t answer you, instead deciding to burn a hole into the floor with his shame. He couldn’t look at you. You knew. You had heard him and were teasing him about it and here he was, a coward who couldn’t even admit to it. And you had every single right. He crossed that salty line years ago, with his first sinful thought about you. Feasted on it, deluding himself into thinking all was okay as long as his actions didn’t physically involve you.
He barely registered your advances when he finally raised his head. You were so close he could feel the heat of your breath against his burning skin, the luscious scent of vanilla and pine filling the air.
“Can I see?” you asked quietly.
He nearly choked on his own spit. Your hand was skimming along his stomach lightly, suggestively toying with the towel that covered him up. “Huh?” His mind was blank.
“Can I see you?” you repeated, and all he could do was give you a curt little nod, not entirely sure what he was agreeing to just yet, but rendered acquiesced. Your hand pulled at the fabric softly, letting it drop to the floor revealing his manhood to your hungry eyes. Nothing was making any sense. Surely, you did not feel this way too. Surely.
There were those whispers again. He shouldn't have let you do that. He should be recoiling, shielding himself from your gaze but he was statuesque, like you had drank the life out of him with one simple look.
"Were you thinking about me touching you?" Like you had to even ask. The answer was written in plain sight, right there on his forehead and in his bashful eyes.
"M'sorry, I-" he had no clue how to even begin this kind of apology, remorse coursing through his veins rapidly. The dots weren’t connecting, not yet. "I know it's wrong, I shouldn't have-,”
And then he felt you, pressing your lips against his softly — timidly as gentle hands feathered across his waist, coaxing him into you. Your kiss was buttery, lips so smooth and sweet he wanted to drown in them. You tasted like fresh honey and vanilla ice cream, hints of minty toothpaste caught on your tongue. It was intoxicating to say the least, swarming his brain with a muted buzz and he whimpered, much to his surprise, melting into your touch quicker than he would like to admit.
“Y/n, y/n, nah we can’t,” he heard himself say as he came to his senses slowly, but he wasn’t pushing you away. Why wasn’t he pushing you away? You couldn’t, right?
“Please,” you whispered against him, low and sultry. Who was he to deny you? God Daryl, get a grip.
“Y/n, no,” he repeated, allowing his tone to take some authority even if that was the last thing he truly wanted. You stepped back from him then, a hurt expression painting your features and he felt his heart squeeze. “Why?”
His brain was scattered. This felt like a nightmare; another cruel joke sent his way to haunt him for the rest of his life. There just always had to be a price, didn't there?
"He doesn't mind, you know?" you whispered and his eyes were on yours instantly. You traced soft shapes across his stomach, sending those shivers down his spine and effectively turning him into putty.
"What’re ya talkin' about?" He needed to regain his composure, he could barely breathe with you this close, eyes raking his naked frame with desire.
"Rick... you and me. He doesn't care," you stated, "thinks it's cute actually... my crush on you."
Your crush on him?
"He trusts you, Daryl, with everything. You're pretty much the only person he would want me to be with." He hadn't thought of it that way, only ever assumed voicing his attraction to you would result in his head on a platter, or his dick… or both.
You began peppering his neck with small kisses, trailing them down his chest and over his puffy nipples. He hissed when you nipped at one, licking over it after, soothing the burn. "Ya sure?"
You nodded.
"Ya sure ya want me?" he asked dubiously. His question was answered when you grabbed his hand gently, guiding it inside your cotton underwear, letting his calloused fingers trace your soaked folds. He could have cum then and there, spreading your slick up and down between his fingers like it was liquid gold. Fuck me.
"This all fer me?" he panted, succumbed to a state of disbelief at your evident arousal. You were so wet around his fingers, pulsing and bucking slightly with each feathered stroke. "Were ya listenin' ta me?"
Hair fell over your face as you nodded sheepishly, gazing down to watch his fingers massaging you. You bit your swollen, cherry-red lip, “Couldn’t help it, you sounded so- so good.”
Now that... that got him going. Imagining your pretty cunt dripping in your panties, listening to his gasps while he fucked himself to the thought of you. Who knew the golden girl would be so naughty?
Daryl felt his confidence build, watching you fall apart for him from such simple touches. The last wire holding him back snapped and he needed more. He had waited for this moment for so fucking long.
You whine as he retracts his hand, only to be completely shut up when he places the thick digit on his tongue, sucking greedily and sloppily. It was better than he ever could have imagined, similar to the honey of your lips but so much more sweet. He went back for seconds. And thirds. Until he was dropping to his knees, deciding to lick the goddamn plate clean.
You enveloped him in the best way possible, lifting one of your thighs over his shoulder as he tugged on your tight jeans, pulling them down enough to fit his head. His tongue pressed flat against your clothed pussy, and he sucked, tasting a mixture of your sweetness and residual laundry detergent on his tongue. His moans burned the back of his throat, desperately trying to hide them but you weren’t having it, tugging on his chocolate locks for more. “Don’t do that. I wanna hear you, honey.” Good lord. He silently thanked each lucky star of his that the house was empty before emitting a guttural groan between your thighs. If this was all he got from you, a little taste of the sugar you were made of, he would die a very happy man.
He took your clit between his lips, rolling it with his tongue. Your underwear was so wet with your arousal and his spit that it was practically see-through, just calling for him to pull aside. “Please,” you gasped.
“Hm? Wha’s that?”
He’d heard you just fine. He wanted to hear you again, and again. He was greedy and you were so damn sinful, “Please, need them off, need you.”
So, he complied, as any sane man would, shimmying them down your hips as he sucked and nibbled each inch of newly exposed skin. You watched him intently with half-lidded eyes, rocking slowly to let plush skin engulf his senses like a cloud. He felt you playing with his messy hair, taking small strands between your fingertips and moving them behind his ears to see him better. The gesture struck something deep within him. You were so kind, so focused on this moment and him, he’d be damned if he let it continue on the hard damp floor of his bathroom. No fucking way.
He stood abruptly, catching you off guard. “Bed,” he muttered, capturing your lips again in a haste. He couldn’t get enough. He didn’t want a minute to pass where he wasn’t tasting some part of you. Any part of you. Sweet, sweet honey.
You led your bodies backward till your knees hit the mattress, wasting no time as you crawled up to his pillows, taking him with you.
This moment right here, this feeling… he wanted to bottle it up. Freeze time and just stare, immerse himself into every tiny detail. It felt almost criminal to continue. You were a vision, panting and squirming beneath him; so much electricity and anticipation bouncing between your yearning bodies. Could you really want this just as much as he did? Was he truly that oblivious, all these years? Whatever that answer may be, he wasn’t gonna fuck this up. Not with you.
Your hands on his face coaxed him back to reality, molding into your touch like clay. Eager lips chased his as he pulled your shirt off and as much as he wanted to freeze time and memorize each freckle of you, the more skin each other touched the more obscene the kiss became. An unartistic jumble of spit and hands and moans and thrusts.
In all the time spent pining silently for the other, you both could care less about grace.
No, he needed to hear you. Listen to every octave of moan you had in you, all at once. He needed to know each and every spot that had you whimpering and begging, this second. If time did decide to stop at any given moment he needed to have you, be you, feel everything you had to offer, and soak in it till his skin pruned.
His lips sucked and bruised their way down to your navel, and then past, kissing up your folds with lustful intent. The sounds you made above him had him seeing stars and he wanted more. His tongue slipped past your lips, finally diving into the hive of your sweetness, rolling his tongue languidly over your clit. Your hands were everywhere around him, fisting at the sheets, the pillows, and then his hair as you desperately tried to push him closer. He didn’t mind. He’d gladly suffocate between your thighs, a death he’d welcome compared to the ones he fought from outside every day.
He dove lower, smoothing his tongue over your entrance but not delving past quite yet.
“Daryl,” you gasped above him.
Looking up between your legs, he caught a glimpse of your face tossed back in pleasure and he groaned, having to ground his hips into the mattress below to relieve some pressure. “What d’ya need, sweetheart?”
He’d give you anything. The moon if you asked for it — anything to keep those pretty sounds coming from your lips. “You, you, please you.”
“How so?”
He knew he was teasing you. He’d drawn back from your glistening slit, pressing little pecks everywhere that he could reach. Your hips, your pelvis, the little crease between your thighs and your cunt. That spot drew a deep moan from you, so he focused on it, sucking and licking till it was bright red and your hips were rolling so violently he wasn’t sure how he kept his lips on you.
“In, please,” you choked out, tugging him by his shoulders to move back up. He wasn’t done yet.
“What? Ma fingers?” he toyed further, continuing his kisses everywhere but where you wanted him. “Hm?”
He brought his thumb up to your clit, pressing lightly at first, rubbing lazy, torturous circles. His lips were on the inside of your thigh, so close to your entrance but seemingly so far. He knew you wouldn’t take much more of this, you were practically sobbing above him blubbering nonsensical curses about how much you ached.
“This pretty cunt wanna be filled, that it?”
His thumb pressed firmer.
“Uh huh,” you nodded, begging him. Oh, that sound would surely be the death of him.
He finally brought his lips to your supposedly aching entrance, delving deep with his tongue. The noises he made as he lapped on your honey were flat-out pornographic, and you writhed below him, drinking everything he was giving to you. Honestly, he didn’t know how much more he could take. He wanted to draw this out for hours, make up for every bit of lost time but seeing you like this, so needy for him had his resolve shattering by the second.
With a final peck to your weeping folds, he crawled his way up back to your face. You latched on to him instantly, sensing his give and taking absolute advantage of your moment. His hips rolled into yours slowly as your tongues danced and he hardly had to guide himself with how wet you were, his tip finding your entrance easily and slipping past. You moaned rolling your hips again and he nearly bottomed out, a long deep groan ripping out of him. If he thought your lips were buttery, lord save him.
Perching himself on his forearms, he held still, watching for any signs of discomfort. He assumed you hadn’t been with anyone in a while and he certainly knew he wasn’t small, if he’d grace himself with any sort of compliment.
Sensing nothing but pleasure as your walls pulsed around him, sucking him in further, he gave, snapping his hips harshly into you. Your moans were lewd on his lips, traveling down his throat and feeding the fire that burned in the pit of his stomach.
“Fuck, y/n, baby,” he groaned again, spiraling from the fact he was actually inside you this time. Not in his hand, pretending you were fucking shower water.
No, you were beneath him, latching onto his muscles like your life depended on it. He drove deeper, hitting a spot that had you gasping for air. He hit it again, and again, needing to feel you explode around him. He watched as your face contorted in pleasure as he pounded into you. God, you looked so pretty like this. All cock-drunk and needy.
He brought his thumb back to that spot on your clit. He needed you to cum soon, he wasn’t gonna last much longer seeing you like this and there was no way in hell he was going to finish before you. Your hips stuttered beneath him, walls squeezing around him and he knew you were close.
“Come on, pretty girl, you got it,” he whispered in your ear, sucking the lobe gently between his teeth. That must’ve broken you, because then you were cursing, spasming for him which triggered his own orgasm. Your cunt milked him, his seed spilling down your thighs exactly how he had pictured earlier and it was a fucking sight. He honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he had imagined this whole thing.
He fucked out both through the waves of release, and a bit past, dropping his head into your neck to muffle the obscene groans coming from his lips. He didn’t want it to stop, but your overstimulated senses ached for reprieve.
“Dar?” you whispered once you'd both caught your breath, guiding his stubbled cheek from its hiding spot. When his eyes met yours, they were filled with so much adoration and happiness he had to hold himself back from whimpering. Never in a million years would he thought he’d get you, and here you were, looking at him like the sun shone out of his ass. The same way he looked at you for years, it was jarring to see it reciprocated. How had he missed it?
You leaned forward, tenderly capturing his lips with your own, soothing him as you always did. He knew there was so much you wanted to say, that he wanted to say, but you didn’t need to talk about it tonight. Tonight you would simply soak in each other, a gift you both thought you’d never get and one you would never let go.
He felt you giggle against his lips, and he pulled back with a lazy, fucked-out smile, "What?" he mumbled curiously.
"How's the headache now, big guy?" you teased playfully and he realized then, you'd known he was fibbing today. Saw right through his measly excuse to spend time with you.
He blushed to the tips of his ears, bowing his head to hide it, "Oh, shuddup," he mumbled, attacking your neck in kisses and nips.
Your cheeky ass was gonna pay for that tonight.
Not Just Friends
Daryl x reader
WARNINGS: Smut
My eyes trailed the fence of the prison. We had been here for a while now and I was on watch tonight. The moon was my only source of light. I kicked my legs a little letting them swing over the side of the watch tower. My arms rested on the railings my chin on the soft skin and lodged between the bars as I sat of the ground. 'Y/N' I jumped a little at the voice behind me. 'Shit' I groaned as my head smacked off the bar above it. 'Sorry I didn't mean to scare you, I wasn't that quiet coming up' I stood and turned to see Maggie standing there. 'I'm here to take over' She smiled. 'Thanks, is it really that late?' She laughed. 'You were daydreaming again' I laughed at her and nodded rubbing my forehead. 'You're bleeding' She gasped. 'A little bump, I'll clean it myself' I smiled and waved her off. 'I just want to go to sleep' She nodded. 'Goodnight Y/N' I smiled over my shoulder. 'Goodnight Maggie, make sure its only you up here tonight, You cant be getting lucky tonight you're on watch' I winked at her remembering walking in on her and Glenn the last time. She went bright red as I walked away laughing across the prison grounds. I grabbed a clothe and wet it before putting it to my head. I walked back to mine and Daryl's cell. I had insisted on sleeping in the same cell as him. Before we met the group I had saved Daryl and Merles lives and told them they were taking me with them wherever they were going. Merle had objected at first but Daryl had said that they could use me so I had tagged along. Myself and Merle never got along and I had thanked Rick when he had locked him to the roof. Daryl on the other hand, we hit it off we always had each others back even if it wasn't in a mushy way, we still did. So I had insisted on staying with him, I trusted him the most and I would do anything for him. He has saved my life more times than I could count. 'What are you doing awake?' I asked walking in to the room to see Daryl sitting up playing with an arrow. 'Couldn't sleep' He grunted. 'Why?' He looked up. 'Good lord Y/N, te hell happened' I tossed the rag aside. 'Just a nick, hit it off the bar when Maggie frightened me, and before ye say anything it wasn't her fault, I was away in my own world again' He rolled his eyes again. 'When are ye never?' I stuck out my tongue at him. 'Shut up Dixon' He smirked a little. 'Ye alright?' I shrugged. 'Getting a headache but that's it' He nodded looking away from me as I sat at the end of his bed beside his feet. I pulled off my boots and placed them beside me. 'We got no pain killers, maybe Rick kept the last eh Merles drugs' I scoffed. 'I don't want anything he owns I growled and stood, maybe a little too quickly as the world spun a little. When it came back into focus my hand was holding me up against the top bunk of my bed. Daryl was pulling himself off the bed. 'That's all my ass' He grumbled grabbing my arm. 'That is it Daryl' He looked down at me his figure towering over my 5 foot 4 one. I rolled my eyes. 'That was completely unrelated' I muttered. 'I'm getting ye some drugs' I grabbed his arm. 'I jus need to sleep it off' He watched me and I seen something in his eyes, something the others were always telling me about. Something I couldn't resist. I grabbed his jacket and pulled him down to me. I connected my lips with his slightly chapped ones. It took him a second but his lips started to move over mine. His arm wound around me and his other had came to the back of my neck and deepened the kiss. My hands gripped his bulging biceps, they were my favourite part of him. He lifted e a little of he ground and I wrapped my legs around him. His hands went to my shorts clad ass. My hands moved up his arms to thread though his hair. My back hit a wall and I groaned as he bit my lip slipping his tongue into my mouth. We both began fighting for dominance. I tugged on his hair but that just made him growl and squeeze my ass. As soon as he won he began kissing my neck. I moaned as he kissed my weak spot right next to my collarbone. 'Daryl' I moaned tugging his hair. He growled and bit down on my neck sucking and licking aswel. I was sure he was going to leave a massive mark that everyone was would undoubtedly see. His lips skittered across my neck biting and sucking. My hands gripped his shoulders as my head fell back against the wall. His lips pressed against me jaw. 'I should get them drugs' He connected our lips again and put me down. I pulled away from him a little. 'You know I heard an orgasm clears a headache right up'
I felt him tense against me. I cursed myself, God Y/N. Daryl would never, just because he kissed you doesn’t means he wants to fuck you. ‘Or the drugs’ I muttered slipping out from between him and the wall and went to the steps to my top bunk. I felt him grab my arm and turn me around. His lips slammed to mine as he kissed me roughly. He slipped my open shirt from my shoulders and tossed it across the cell. My hands grabbed his leather jacket and I pushed it off of him and down his arms. His tongue passed through my lips he immediately took dominance and slipped his calloused hands up my tank top gripping my waist. My hands began to unbutton his shirt. He pulled away from my llips and leaned in close to my ear. His hands gripped my waist so tight I thought I would have bruises tomorrow. ‘I think we should try that orgasm’ He whispered and I felt a shiver go down my spine, finally something I had been waiting for, for months. ‘Then hurry up, we ain got all day’ I smirked. His eyes narrowed and his arm wrapped around my waist and the other hiked my leg up to his hip. He pushed backwards so I landed on my ass on his bed. He handed between my legs on his knees tilting me backwards at an angle so I had to grab onto his shirt to stop myself from falling backwards. ‘Dont ye yell me how te fuck ye Miss Y/N’ He growled his fingers digging into my bare thigh. ‘Or what’ I smirked up at him. ‘Or I’ll make ye regret it’ His lips attacked mine as he repositioned us and my head landed on the pillow. I pushed his shirt and he sat back a little taking it off. He smiled down at me before grabbing the bottom of my top and pulling it up and tossing it over his shoulder. He grabbed my face and kissed me before trailing his lips downwards. ‘Daryl’ I groaned as he kissed along my collarbone. His hands slipped around me and he fumbled with the clasp of my bra for a second before pulling it down my arms and it joined the rest of our clothes on the floor. We were both half naked now. His lips attached to my right nipple sucking and I groaned pulling on his hair. HE responded by grinding his hips into mine. I gasped and he bit my nipple lightly and his other hand roughly kneading my left breast. ‘Daryl, please’ I moaned. ‘Please’ I groaned and my hands slipped down his chest scratching my nails along his muscles. I began to unbuckle his belt. ‘Say it again’ I looked down and he was staring up at me from between my breasts. ‘Please’ I breathed out. His hands pushed mine away and he tugged at my shorts pulling the down my legs and bending them up to slip them over my feet. My hands gripped his shoulder as he began to kiss the inside of my thighs. ‘Daryl’ I moaned. I gripped his hair again; my hands seemed to spend most of my time there. His hands caressed up my thighs until they fiddled with the top of my panties. He tugged at them and pulled the down my legs as well. ‘Ye have no idea how long I wanted te see ye naked Y/N’ He smirked up at me from between my legs. ‘Jesus Daryl, just do something and stop smirking at me like that’ He smirked again and attached his lips to my clit and began to suck. I gasped and moaned. ‘Daryl’ I wrapped my legs around him. His tongue flicked over the little bud and I bucked my hips. His hand pushed my hips back down onto the bed. He ran his index finger over my slit causing me to throw back my head and moan loudly. I was super sensitive seeing as I hadn’t had sex since way before this whole thing started. I groaned as he pushed one inside of me. He slowly started to pump it in and out of me. The rough pads of his finger brushing against my walls. ‘Daryl’ I groaned. He slipped a second in and curled them causing me to arch my back a silent gasp falling from my lips as they parted. I screwed my eyes shut as he repeated his actions. He pushed my legs off his shoulders and kissed his way up my body as his fingers continued to work inside of me. ‘Daryl’ I groaned. His lips kissing up my stomach his tongue twirling around my belly button piercing. He continued up my stomach over the mounds of my breasts. He bit my neck before reconnecting our lips. I wrapped my arms around his body. His fingers found the one spot he was looking for and I arched my back again. My nails scraped along the small of his back and he started rubbing figure eights on my clit with his thumb. I moaned into his mouth as I began to feel a knot in my stomach. My leg wrapped around his hip as I pushed my hips closer to his. ‘C’mon Y/N’ He growled in my ear as his fingers speed up their actions. ‘Daryl’ I moaned as the knot in my stomach unravelled. I moaned and whimpered his name over and over as he worked me through my high. ‘Jesus Daryl’ I breathed collapsing back to the bed. He stood up and slipped off his jeans and his boxers. His boner stood prominent in the low light of the cell. I sat up flipping my legs over the side of the bed. I took his length in my hand and started to slowly pump it. His head fell back. ‘Y/N’ He moaned. I leaned forward and ran my tongue across the slit of his bright red tip collecting the pre-cum that was leaking from it. ‘Jesus Y/N’ He groaned. ‘Do that again’ His hands gripped my hair and pushed me forwards again. I licked from the base of his shaft all the way to the top with the flat of my tongue. A moan slipped passed his lips. I opened my mouth and took the head into my mouth. I began to suck getting a groan from Daryl and he gripped my hair harder. He tugged my head back and bent connecting our lips. ‘I wanted that, but’ He muttered pushing me backwards and climbing between my legs. ‘Let’s go for two’ He positioned himself and slipped inside me. A groan slipped from both our lips simultaneously. His name slipped from my lips and he started to move. ‘Oh God Daryl’ I gasped wrapping my legs around him digging my heels into his ass. He started to thrust harder his head dropping to my shoulder. ‘Y/N’ Daryl moaned into my shoulder going faster. My nails scratched down his back. He hissed in pain and he grabbed my hair tugging it back exposing more of my neck. He bit down causing me to moan and buck my hips. He grabbed my hip and dug his nails into my hip. His hips had found a rhythm and he was pounding into me. I felt the familiar knot in my stomach again. Daryl’s lips sucked on my weak spot causing moans to continuously fall from my lips. ‘JESUS Y/N’ He moaned loudly into my neck. ‘D-Daryl’ I gasped as I felt myself unravelling. ‘Please, please’ He groaned. ‘Say it again. ‘Please’ His finger found my clit and he rubbed it harshly. I threw my head back a moaning mess. ‘Cum, baby, cum’ I obey and I screamed. His lips captured mine drowning out my screams. I felt him twitch inside me. His hips started moving at an irregular pace and I thrust upwards to meet him. His hand tightened in my hair and he came inside of me. My name falling from his lips again and again. As we both came down from our high he collapsed on top of me. We both lay there panting for a few moments. ‘How’s that head?’ He rolled off me and lay beside me. ‘It’s good now’ I smiled at him. ‘Jesus, wonder does that work fer every pain’ I laughed and he tugged my wrist pulling me into his chest. ‘I doubt it’ I planted a kiss on his chest and buried my head in it. He wrapped his arms around me and tugged the covers over both of us.
I woke up to someone laughing. ‘What te-?’ I heard Daryl groan. I looked up to see Maggie Rick and Glenn standing in the door way of the cell. ‘Though I heard a scream last night’ Rick laughed. I furrowed my eyebrows confused. My eyes widened and I turned red as I realised what they were laughing at. Myself and Daryl were laying under the cover….naked. ‘Get out’ Daryl shouted and tossed something at them. ‘Whoa’ Glenn caught what I realised to be Daryl’s trousers. ‘I don’t want these, only person that wants to be in them is Y/N’ He laughed and Daryl growled. Glenn’s eyes widened and he dropped Daryl’s pants walking away. ‘Well looks like you can get lucky when you’re not on watch huh Y/N’ Maggie laughed. ‘Piss off’ I groaned and buried my face back in Daryl’s chest. ‘They gone’ He grunted. I looked up. ‘Thank god’ I sighed. He disentangled himself from the bed and stood. I gasped when I seen his back. He tensed and turned quickly. ‘I did a number on that back Dixon, don’t let any of them see that, scratches everywhere’ I said feeling I owed him an explanation, I knew how he felt about those scars. ‘You might wana clean it too, pretty sure I seen blood’ He smiled at me a little. ‘Didn’t even feel it’ I laughed sitting up holding the covers over myself. ‘You will after’ He leaned in closer to me. ‘Worth it’ He planted his lips on mine and then pulled away getting dressed. ‘Cmon’ He smirked standing in the doorway. ‘Breakfast’ He turned and walked out the door. I shook my head getting up. I just had sex with Daryl Dixon
Masterlist
Masterlist main masterlist request
Daryl dixon and his future wife
Masterlist main masterlist request
Daryl and his girlfriend on a run
daryl dixon - it’s you.
warnings: walkers, violence, daryl being an asshole, sixty-nine, daryl being an absolute munch, swearing, spitting, biting, smacking, fingering, choking, degrading, unprotected rough angry sex. prison era s4.
3.3k words
“oh i’m the brat? you’re the one thats complaining.” you stormed out of your cell, following daryl. rick had told you and daryl that y’all had to go on a run together.
you and daryl never got along. there is always this tension between you two that you can’t pinpoint. when rick had told you, you were just as mad as daryl but you didn’t complain. daryl on the other hand had complained to rick about how annoying you were and that you were a complete brat.
“ya always fussin’ bout somethin’. don’t ya know when to shut ya trap.” he takes a drag from whatever he had in his mouth before looking up at you. just like in the gif. he was good looking beyond belief. would you ever say it out loud? hell no.
i looked back at him to notice he never took his eyes off of me. you broke the eye contact. mumbling a “fuck you” as i walked back into the prison to start getting ready for the run. you loaded your gun and slipped it into your waistband and put your knife in its little holder on your thigh.
you looked over your shoulder as carol came into your cell. “be safe out there, sweetie and try not to kill daryl.” you rolled your eyes and huffed out. “ill be safe but i can’t guarantee that last part, maybe ill feed him to the walkers.”
you hear a knock on the concrete wall and you looked up. “let’s go.” daryl huffed out and then turned on his heel and walked out. “ill see you later, carol” you threw your bag over your shoulder and headed out.
you stopped as soon as you got out. “no fucking way.” daryl was on his bike, not in a car, on his fucking bike. where i would have to physically touch him, breathe him in.
“come on, y/n cant ya just cooperate.” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “can’t you be fuckin’ normal and get in a car?” you grabbed the keys off of the door. he gave you a look that only meant that he wasn’t gonna budge.
“please just this once.”
he rolled his eyes and killed the engine to the bike. “fuckin’ bitch” he muttered under his breath. “i heard you asshole.” i walked to the grey suv. daryl following my tracks, just as i was about to open the door daryl pins me to the car.
“what’s your problem with me.” our faces inches away from each other. “let me go, daryl.” his face got closer. “answer my question first.” his eyes dropped to your lips before it came back up to your eyes.
a moment of silence passed before carl came running out. “y/n, you forgot..” daryl pushed off of the car. “sorry, if i interrupted.” daryl walked around and got in the passenger side. “no you didn’t interrupt. what’d you need?”
he handed you a gun. “you forgot it.” he ran back inside. you opened the door to the car and sighed. this was gonna be a long, long drive.
daryl had bitched the entire ride to the rundown store and now he was bitching for some unknown reason. “you bitch a whole lot for someone who said i was always fussing about something.”
“ ‘m not bitchin’ bout anything.” he grumbled. you looked over at him and sighed. “you asked what my problem is, whats yours? you always give me shit for every little thing.”
he pushed me against the side of the store we just left. putting his hands on both sides of my head so i was trapped. “ya wanna know what my problem is?” you throat moved as you very visibly gulped.
“it’s you.” he looked back at my lips, just like earlier but this time he looked linger. when his eyes came back up they were filled with something. lust. “you’re always bitching about something. always pushin’ my buttons. making me want ‘t bend you over a table and fuck ya’ dumb.”
you hated what he did to you. he turned you on when he shouldn’t at times he shouldn’t have. when he was killing walkers and his muscles flexed just the right way in the right lighting. when he was doing something to his bike and he was all greasy and sweaty. it shouldn’t turn you on but it does.
“do it.” you said in a whisper barely audible, but he heard you. his lips crashed onto yours. a rough, hot steamy kiss. all of y’alls built up anger and frustration put into a kiss.
his hands came up and picked you up by your thighs. one arm holding you up and the other groping your ass. you moaned into the kiss. his mouth leaving yours and traveling down your neck, leaving very prominent hickeys.
you didn’t want this moment to end. no matter how much you two fought, or screamed at each other, you knew how you felt about him. he was misunderstood, he felt like he didn’t belong anywhere. you knew that because thats how you felt too. you two “hated” each other because y’all were so alike.
daryl gently put you down. he took off your knife holder that was placed around your thigh, next was your shorts. you stopped his hand as they came around your waist.
“wait.” he opened his mouth to talk before you out your hand flew to his mouth shutting him up. “do you hear that?” faint snarls coming from around the store y’all we at.
he stood up taking your hand from his mouth and huffed out. “damn, walkers ruinin’ all ma fun” he picked up his bow and handed you your knife holder.
“we have to go” you tapped him, signaling walkers in the distance. we walked to the car. daryl got in the drivers seat this time. i got into the passenger seat and closed the door. only to be pulled over the console and into daryls lap.
“what’re you doing?”
he kissed me and locked the doors to make sure no walkers tried getting in. his hands were everywhere. everything he touched it felt like my skin was on fire. i loved his touch. no matter how much he said he hated me, i knew deep down it wasn’t true.
he let the seat back. his hands resting on your ass. “your pretty for a brat y’know tha” he pushed you towards him so know y’all were chest to chest. kissing you hard once again. he pushed your hips down into his. your mouth falling open as a moan slips out.
taking this opportunity to stick his tongue in your mouth, making your mouth his. “so sexy.” he grumbled out. his hands moving upwards taking off my tank top pushing over my head and throwing it into the passenger seat.
“ya have a nice pair of tits” i laughed and rolled my eyes. i placed my hands at the base of his vest and shirt and slipped it off of him, throwing it over in the passenger seat with my shirt.
i grinned down at him before grinding down on him, earning a groan from him. his body was god like i ran my hands up and down his chest.
“i wanna try something.” i broke the silence. he looked at me with a look that said ‘what’re you up to’. i lifted my hips and took of my shorts leaving a shocked expression on daryl’s face when he saw that i wasn’t wearing anything underneath.
“what? its the end of the world. i don’t have lots of underwear.” he shook his head not protesting. my hands going to the button of his jeans unbuttoning them. pulling them and his boxers down to pool around his feet.
sitting back on his thigh trying to figure out how i’m gonna do this. “stay laying down” i pushed at his chest trying to turn myself around. sighing in defeat. “a-little help?”
daryl laughed and helped turn me around. minutes later we finally did it. i got up on my hands and knees trying to scoot back but instead hit my head on the wheel honking the horn. “fuck.”
daryl taking my hips and guiding them to his face. “ya have a nice pussy too.” before bringing it down on his mouth. he teased my hole with his tongue before moving up and sucking my clit. all the sudden pressure on my clit made me forget what i was supposed to be doing, making me a mess.
“ya gon’ do somethin’ or ya jus’ gonna look at it” he stopped his motion and slapped my ass. i took his shaft in my hand and started to pump it. his mouth went back to my heat.
i took his tip into my mouth, sucking it before i took the rest of him in my mouth. he was making it really hard to focus on sucking him off when he was making me feel the best i’ve felt in years.
i moaned around his length causing him to buck his hips, making me gag. "mm, i've got ya" his voice getting deeper, rumbling deep into his chest as he allows two thick fingers to slide into your slick hole.
"oh.." you moan as you toss your head back, legs twitching as they threaten to close around his head. daryl only grunts before his fingers are moving, hooking them everytime they slide out to target your spot, thumb brushing against your throbbing clit. his pace is slow and tedious, dragging out the sensation until you forget your name.
your orgasm moving in closer than you thought, his teasing actions having more of an effect on your body than the rushed ones you've endured, this felt stronger and harder to hold back.
i took his cock farther down my throat, eager to get him to get his release. occasionally sucking his length, your hands doing most of the work but his tongue was driving you to a fast release and it felt amazing. your head flew up, your moans and panting traveled in the little car space.
your hips bucked and daryl’s hand smacked your ass cheek hard before he pulled you down to him as if he was trying to suffocate on your slick while you came.
“think ya can finish me off, brat?” he said smacking your already sore and red ass. you nod your head and go back to sucking him off. bobbing your head up and down, spit dribbling dow your chin and making a mess of daryl’s cock.
his hands kneading your soft, sore red flesh. his groans getting louder and he starts to buck up into your throat. grunts, groans, and gagging all to be heard throughout the car.
you could tell he was getting close by the way he was thrusting into your mouth and his groans. “fuck, ‘m gonna cum.” he starts to use your throat making you gag and moan around him.
he threw his head back and his motions stilled as he shot his load of hot sticky cum in my mouth. he pulls out and i swallow it.
the car ride was silent, nothing could be heard except our breathing and the wind as we drove down the roads. daryl slowed the car as we pulled up to the prison and we were met by carl and carol.
when the car came to a complete stop you were first to hop out. walking to your cell, not sparing daryl another glance. you pulled out the milk crate that had your clothes in it. pulling out some underwear, a brush and clothes before going to the showers.
you caught rick on the way out of your cell. “hey rick, do you have any towels and rags left? i’m out.” he nodded and led the way to where his things were. when you got there he handed you a clean rag and towel.
“thanks” you were about to leave before rick spoke up. “what took you and daryl so long on that run?” your face got got heated and you tried to speak but no words came out.
he laughed and shook his head. “have anything to do with these?” he moved your hair and touched the dark purple mark on your neck.
you pushed past rick saying you had to shower. you entered the showering room and heard a shower on already but that didn’t bother you it was normal, until you heard him.
“ya following me or somethin’?” you turn around and are met with daryl. “no, i just came to shower.” your eyes raked over his body, taking it all in. his wet hair clung to his face and a towel that hung dangerously low on his waist.
when your eyes traveled back up they met his. “i’m just gonna, y’know” you pointed towards the shower and turned around to get in. he was still standing there, watching you.
“do you mind?” you set your stuff down and turned the shower on. he still stood there saying nothing and staring at you. you turned around and took off your clothes stepping into the water.
you didn’t even care that he was there, he seen you earlier it’s no different now. you ran your hands through your hair, feeling the water hit your face. you turned around to see if daryl was still there only to find out he left.
you washed the walker blood, sweat and the activities from earlier off of you. after a few minutes, i turned off the water and wrapped myself in a towel and wringing out my hair.
i threw on a shirt and knew it wasn’t mine with how big it was. i slipped on a pair of panties and some shorts before walking back to my cell. you closed the cell door and got laid in your bed, hoping you could get some sleep.
you closed your eyes and tried to sleep, but all you could think about was daryl, about earlier. the loud sound of metal screeching made you shoot up. “m’sorry for wakin’ you.” he came in and shut the cell door. “i wasn’t sleeping. i couldn’t.” he sat on your makeshift — the two thin mattresses from the prison beds on the floor — bed.
he looked at you, the same look from earlier. lust. he pulled you over onto his lap. “y’know i fuckin’ hate you” he said before he closed the space between us, kissing me hard.
i needed him everywhere. i was grinding down on his lap. his lips connected with my neck, leaving love bites all over.
i quietly moaned out. his hands traveled down to my shorts, slipping one hand under the waistband. he brought his lips back to mine giving me another rough kiss.
his hand pushing past my thong. teasing my clit as he worked his way to my slippery hole. he slipped his thick fingers into my heat, almost immediately starting to fuck yourself on his fingers
his finger’s matching your pace. he pulled back from our kiss and smirked. “you’re so eager.” he took his hands out of your shorts and laid you down on your bed.
“lift your hips” he tugged at your shorts. you did as he said and lifted your hips for him. “such an obedient whore for someone who hates me so much.” he tossed your shorts somewhere beside you.
“fuck you” you gasped out. he came back up kissing you, biting your lip. moving his way down your body. he lifted your shirt over your head, throwing it wherever he threw your shorts.
he took a nipple into his mouth, his hand going down to rub my clit through my underwear. “fuck” i moaned. i bit my lip to suppress all the noise i was making, seeing as though there were people trying to sleep in the rooms next to mine.
a harsh slap got delivered to my face. “i want to hear your moans.” i shook my head, disobeying what he said. he stopped everything he was doing. another harsh slap. i still didn’t budge.
“now you don’t want to fuckin’ listen.” he wrapped his hand around your neck squeezing, not to much so he didn’t hurt you. no matter how much he claimed to hate you, he never wanted to hurt you.
gasping for air you open your mouth. “i don’t want them to hear.” his hand unwrapped from your throat. “i don’t give a shit.” he went back down and yanked your lacy thongs down and took no time putting his head between your thighs.
licking and sucking on your clit as your hands tangled in his messy hair. your back arching off of the mattress. “oh fuck daryl.”
his fingers collected the slick from your heat as he pushed his thick digits into you. all the pleasure you were getting was overwhelming because this is the first time in years since you’ve done this.
“i- fuck. daryl im gonna..” he pulled his fingers out and stopped sucking. you whimpered from the loss of contact. “daryl” you whimpered. he unbuttoned his pants and pulled them and his boxers down, kicking them off.
he was big. i looked up at him and he smirked. “you like what you see?” he grabbed me by my hips and pulled me closer to him. “shut up and fuck me.”
he lined himself up with my entrance and pushed in. we both hissed as he sunk into me. “you’re so damn tight” he huffed out. he started to pound mercilessly into me.
“oh, fuck.” i squealed out. daryl came down and bit my shoulder to keep his groans contained. i tried to keep my moans contained but it was all too much and i couldn’t keep them in.
“daryl” i moaned probably loud enough for the entire cell block to hear me. he was biting down so hard i think he drew blood. i tear slipped down my cheek. “what’re you cryin’ for” he continued to mercilessly pound into you.
“i- oh god.” he was hitting the perfect spot. “right there, fuck.” he put your leg on his shoulder, your mouth hanging open. no words came out, only pure sounds of pleasure.
“i’m gonna cum.” daryl’s hand came up to your mouth. “open.” he demanded and you did. he spit into your mouth. his finger tracing your jaw. “swallow it.”
you did as he said. his trusts were getting sloppy and you could tell he was close as-well by the way he was groaning and breathing.
“you gon’ cum with me? hmm? you gonna cum on my cock?” he pounded harder. i was practically screaming at this point. “yes, please make me cum. please daryl.” this is the first and the last time he will ever hear you beg.
the familiar knot in my stomach building up. daryl hitting the same spot over and over again until the tension in my stomach finally released. daryl following right behind me as he let his seed spill into me and rolled off of me.
we laid there for a couple minutes in silence, just listening to each others breaths. “you still hate me?” i turned my head to look at him. he was smiling like an idiot. “shut up, daryl.”
after a moment of silence, i huffed out. “i never hated you.” i smiled and climbed on top of him. he smiled back. “s’that so” i nodded my head with a mhm before closing the gap between us.
this kiss wasn’t angry, it wasn’t rough, it was sweet and gentle. “daryl dixon, i’ve done nothing but love you since i laid eyes on you.”
his hands resting on your hips tracing circles. “ya love me?” he looked into your eyes. you nod and smile a bit. “i wanna hear you say it again.” he smiled.
“i love you, daryl dixon.” he kissed me after i finished my sentence. “i love ya, too, y/n.” he pulled me closer to him. kissing me all over my face.
“wanna go for round two?” i laughed and dropped my head to his chest. “anything for you, mr. dixon.”
in the morning, you woke up with his arms around you and his face buried in your neck. you look to your side and grab your shirt and shorts and sit up. being careful to not wake daryl up. you slip on the shirt and you wiggle the shorts on getting up.
you walk out of the cell and make your way to the cafeteria, where you were met with the rest of the group. “morning” rick says. “good morning” the group was all looking at you while you made your food. “i’m surprised she can still stand.” carl said making the group laugh and rick to hit the back of his head.
you sat down at the table. “how’d you sleep” carol asked. “if she did get any sleep.” glenn said. your eyes shot up from your food. “what did you say?” she looked at glenn who’s hands shot up and he acted as if he hadn’t said anything.
daryl walked into the room causing everyone to look his way. “wha, i got somethin’ on my face or sum?” he made his way over to where i was sitting and sat next to me.
maggie walked in and came behind glenn. “you two think you could keep it down at night? some people actually try to get sleep.”
my face became red and daryl laughed. “m’bad i tried to shut ‘er up but she don’ listen.” i put my hands on my face and shake my head.
“so i’m taking this as you two are alrigh’ now, no more fightin?” rick said. me and daryl both nodded our heads. “yea, no more fightin’ for now.” daryl looked over at me and pulled me closer to him by my waist and he kissed my forehead.
this is..idk. lmk your opinion. im gonna try to figure out a schedule to post on but yeah. you should def. checkout my stories on wattpad (darylscvmdumpster) im not as active on there tho!
MAIN MASTERLIST
stories with an asterisk (*) by it means it’s smut.
THE WALKING DEAD
it’s you, DARYL DIXON*
daryl & y/n hate each other. rick forces them to go on a run together and things get steamy. prison era s4
mine, DARYL DIXON* (coming soon)
another life, CARL GRIMES
carl & y/n have been together since before the apocalypse started but when negan comes to alexandria one day they get separated forever. alexandria era s8
my cowgirl, CARL GRIMES* (coming soon)
OUTER BANKS
rekindled old flames, RAFE CAMERON* (coming soon)
new beginnings, RAFE CAMERON* (coming soon)
CRIMINAL MINDS
COMING SOON!
SUPERNATURAL
COMING SOON!
SNC, JAKE & JOHNNIE
COMING SOON!
SHAMELESS
COMING SOON!
DARYLSCVMDUMPSTER honestly have no clue what i’m doing but it’s fun to write so here we are. you can find my wattpad works under the same name @darylscvmdumpster !
KINKTOBER REQUESTS
it is KINKTOBER so smut smut smut! there might be some just cute ones. i just need requests so i this big writers block goes away. I DO write about girls too (i’m just not as good.)
THE WALKING DEAD
anyone from this show!
OUTER BANKS
anyone from this show!
CRIMINAL MINDS
anyone from this show!
SUPERNATURAL
anyone from this show!
SNC
anyone from their channel!
SHAMELESS
anyone from this show! (if kids; debbie, carl..etc they MUST be aged up because i refuse to write about kids)
DARYLSCVMDUMPSTER please send in your requests for KINKTOBER so i can get the 31 days of KINKTOBER started!! im trying to be more active in writing so please help me out.