#Soft dom Daryl Dixon

[r6eduss]

Sweetness.

•Summary: Daryl and reader haven’t had time for each other lately, because of this the reader begins to have doubts and insecurities but Daryl is quick to ease them. (Fem reader)

•Warnings: 18+, Soft Dom!Daryl, Smut. Major character death spoilers.

•Word Count: 3.1k.

•Setting: The Commonwealth.

•A/N: Guys this is my first fic, I was bored and decided why not make fanfiction soo.. 😭 also inspired by @/corvidcrossbow ‘s I like it long fic 🫶🏼

You had been overly busy, overwhelmed with the labor that the Commonwealth had brought upon you. Having to deal with the changes of when the world just fell was difficult enough, finally adjusting to the wickedness and horrors of this world just to have to adjust to how the world used to be all over again? It’s been a hassle on you and Daryl’s backs.

Before the world had fallen, you were still in college, studying and planning to pursue to become a doctor. When you arrived at the Commonwealth, you had been beyond confused what your occupation before the apocalypse had anything to do with why you should’ve been accepted into this place, soon finding out that you would receive a position of employment that would be just like what you used to be before everything went down.

Not only have you been beyond exhausted with your position, lately Nabila has needed extra assistance with her and the children, and who are you to decline? You’ve always been a shoulder that your family can lean on.

Today was finally one of those days that you had off, and of course you had spent the majority of your day babysitting the children. You didn’t hate spending time with them, in fact, you enjoyed it. But you were beyond exhausted and craved some time alone with your unofficial husband, Daryl.

It was around around 9:45 pm at night, and you at last entered your shared apartment. The silence was loud, feeling ringing in your ears from it. Judith and RJ had been at Carol’s house for the day, and Daryl had been out being a soldier for our community, so you were accompanied with quietness and some time for yourself. It was honestly quite comforting, considering how overwhelmed you have felt lately.

You had sat down on your couch, pinching the space between your eyes that rested at the top of your nose and closing your eyes. “God..” you let out a sigh, feeling drained and spent. You gave yourself a couple seconds of emptiness then proceeded to get up and head for your shared bedroom with Daryl.

You placed your bag around one of the clothing hangers in your closet, and made your way to your dresser. You picked out a pair of panties, and a nightgown. With your clothes in hand, you headed towards the bathroom. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you gave yourself a moment to reflect on all the events that took place before finally arriving at the Commonwealth. All the loses.. Carl, Glenn, Abraham, Sasha, Jesus, Tara and the list still goes on! You can't help but miss them and wish they were here to see the community that has been built here.

You catch yourself lost in your train of thought, and then work on stripping yourself of your clothes. You move to turn on the water, giving it a moment to get warm, then getting into the shower.

After your shower, you quickly slipped into your clean nightgown and panties. You took your used and dirty clothes and stuffed them into a basket, where you and Daryl’s laundry needed to be done. Standing next to your’s and Daryl’s queen sized bed, you quickly got comfortable under the sheets. A sigh left your lips, thinking of how much your mind and soul craved Daryl. Lately, you guys have had no time for yourselves.

You and Daryl have known each other since the quarry in Atlanta. At first, you thought he hated you, but sooner or later you realized that he isn’t one for communication. He showed his acts of love through his actions, always making sure you were safe.

Since the quarry, you had always stuck by his side. Sticking up for him when Rick, Glenn, T-dog and the others decided to leave his brother Merle on a rooftop alone. Daryl had refused your company at first, but with time, he warmed up to you and tolerated your presence. And eventually, he found himself falling for you, but of course you were the one to make the first move on him.

When you guys had arrived at the prison, that is when you made your move. It took a lot of self sabotaging on Daryl’s part before you guys had become official. And even then, Daryl isn’t particularly fond of label’s.

It had taken a lot of time for Daryl to start opening up to you even after you guys had established your love for each other. It was also awhile of staying at Alexandria for you guys to start getting intimate. Eventually with each other’s time together, you learned all about his trauma’s, the backstory of his scars and his childhood.

You were utterly in love with Daryl Dixon, and he was in love with you, he just had trouble saying those things out loud.

Your train of thought was interrupted by the sound of the door opening, your tummy immediately felt as if it was filled with butterflies while blood rushes to your face, knowing that it was Daryl finally coming home.

You lift your head up as Daryl enters your shared bedroom, he looks tired, exhausted.. His hair is laced with sweat while he’s in the commonwealth’s standardized white-color armor. You’ve always thought he looked quite handsome coming back from a run.

“Hey..” you begin to sit up, now facing your lover.

“Hey.” he gruffed out. Your heart began to ache as your thoughts were laced with worry. Daryl has been so worn out lately, and has barely had any time to see you. What if he was starting to lose the attraction he had for you? What if he was starting to realize he’s interested in someone else? That possibility could become a reality considering you found yourselves in a community of 50 thousand other people.

“So, how was the run today?” You try your hardest to ease the silence, the quietness that had comforted you earlier was no longer comforting. Your nerves began to eat you from the inside out that you began to fidget with your thumbs, that’s something you’d always do when you were nervous, everybody knew.

Daryl knew.

“It was ‘ight.” He quickly took notice of how you began to fidget.

“Wha’ is wrong with ya?” He looked right into your eyes, his tone infected with slight concern. He was waiting for your response as he began to take off the annoying armor that he was required to wear.

Your heart race began to speed up, worried that he would view you as insecure and pathetic, you decided to avoid telling him what you were truly worried about. “Nothing! Just.. had an exhausting week.” You hoped he’d take your answer and roll with it, you were deathly afraid of Daryl seeing you less than you are.

After Daryl finished taking off the armor, he decided to accept the answer you gave him for now. He was tired, and was in no mood to go back and forth.

“Daryl, you should probably take a shower.” you just wanted him to relax for once, even with Ezekiel being the leader of this place, he never once let his guard down and you just wanted him to finally rest.

“Hm. Ya wan’ to get in wit’ me?” Daryl is never one to initiate things, but one thing he always loved was being able to share a shower with you. It felt romantic. Intimate.

“I already showered. We can cuddle when you get out?” You didn’t think anything of your response, well that was until…

He let out what seemed like an annoyed grunt. He took his clothes and headed to the bathroom. You’ve never been more anxious. Did what you say bother him? Did you piss him off? You released an irritated grunt from your lips as you hear the shower head turn on. You decide to lay back down, feeling your brain fall into a spiral of unpleasant anxious thoughts.

It’s been almost 20 minutes, and you’ve been in a complete swirl of negativity. Your chest felt heavy, feeling your heart completely sunken. Were you having an anxiety attack? You eventually hear the shower head stop and you could’ve sworn you were on the verge of passing out, since when were you so nervous around Daryl? You’ve always been super comfortable around him, feeling safe. Maybe it’s because of all this time trying to survive and to keep our loved one’s alive.

Hearing the sounds of him getting dressed, you can’t help but feel more uneasy. You were never fond of people being angry at you, and especially Daryl of all people. Sooner or later, the bathroom door opens. You look up and see Daryl wearing a regular dark gray T-shirt with gray sweatpants, he never was one to sleep without a shirt, considering his scars.

He walks over to the basket of clothes that needs to be washed, and puts the clothes that he was wearing under the uncomfortable set of white armor in the basket.

He looks in your direction, catching you once again fidgeting with your thumbs.

You refuse to look at him, feeling strong tension between you and him. Your breath hitches as you feel the bed dip, noticing that he was getting right into bed, next to you. He starts to get comfortable, getting under the sheets and closer to you.

The both of you lay completely flat on your backs, That’s when you feel him put his arm around your shoulder and pull you closer to him, head laying on his chest.

“I know somethin’ is up.” He takes your hand, making it rest on his chest. “Talk t’me.”

All the warmth went immediately to your face. It felt as if you stopped breathing for a moment, you didn’t wanna be difficult, that’s when you decided to just tell him about your worries, he has a right to know after all.

“Daryl, I'm scared.”

“Scared of wha’?”

Taking a deep breath, you continue. “I’m scared that one day you’ll realize that maybe i’m not enough for you.” You pause for a moment, then resume. “And, are you annoyed with me?”

His eyes widened a bit, it’s not what he was expecting. Not in the slightest. He lifts his head a little.

“Nah, m’not annoyed with ya.” He proceeds to lay on his side, facing towards you. “An’ why are ya thinkin’ ya wouldn't be enough?” From the bottom of his heart, he doesn’t have a single clue where this is coming from. Daryl is the most loyal person on this shitty earth, and he can swear up and down that he loves you to death.

“I don’t know.. We’ve been so busy lately getting used to the Commonwealth, and there are so many people here! So many options.. Maybe eventually you’ll realize that i’m not what you truly want.” Shamefully, the truth escapes your lips. You’ve never felt more insecure. Usually, you felt secure within your relationship, but the stress has truly gotten to your head.

He moves closer to your face, and puts his hand on your cheek, cupping the side of your face. His thumb gently rubbing against it.

“Don’t want nobody here but you.”

Your heart skips a beat, Daryl isn’t one for being upfront, and he isn’t the greatest at comforting people, but he loves you, and he’s very sure of that.

He locks eyes with you, admiring you and your beauty. For a second you could’ve sworn he had stolen a glance at your lips? Or maybe you were seeing things.

Your mind feels more at ease, and you break out a slight giggle “I’m sorry. I know I sound stupid, I just miss you.”

He uses his other hand to move your hair strand out your face, and cup the other side of your face, moving closer. “Ya’ don’t sound stupid.” He’s quick to lean in, closing the gap between the both of you, finally stealing a kiss from you.

His lips are kind of chapped, but oddly enough, still soft. The kiss was soft and tender, only having pure love behind it. Your eyes flutter open, just to see him staring at you. “I love you.”

Your lips curve up into a passive and cute smile, he never says it first.

“I love you too.”

You lean in for another kiss, the both of you have been so touch starved these past couple days. The kiss was gentle and sweet, but more ambitious. Even the slightest things about Daryl can get you going, and you sure as hell are in need of some sex. Especially after these couple weeks.

You lean more into the kiss, and that’s when you hear a grunt come from him. You swear you could turn into a puddle right then and there.

Eventually, you pull away, obviously needing to breathe. “Daryl, i’ve missed you.”

The corner of his lips turn into a slight smirk, and he begins to gently place his hand on the back of your head, playing with your hair.

“I know.”

That’s when he kisses you again, only this time using his hand on the back of your head to lean you in closer. This kiss was more needy.. More intimate.

You accidentally whine into the kiss, pressing your thighs together as you can already feel your panties start to get wet. He moves his hand from the back of your head to your waist, caressing and feeling your curves. He slowly makes his way to your thighs, where he takes the opportunity to pull you on top of him, and have you sitting on his lap while he lays on his back. You could feel his hard on.

“D-daryl.. I need you.” you say in a whine, you felt his cock twitch under you, he has his hands rested on your hips and has the most perfect view of you. He could stay like this forever.

“Yeah?” He said it in such a sweet and gentle tone it could drive you insane. One thing Daryl loved to do was tease you, he knew how flustered you could get. “Mhm.” You begin to tuck at his pants, looking into his eyes for approval.

With a slow nod, he consents. “G’on.” He wanted this as badly as you did, and tonight, he was going to make sure you were taken care of.

You were quick to go ahead and start to take off his pants and boxers while also taking off your nightgown, wanting nothing more than to feel his cock stretch out your tight cunt. He watched as you stripped him, missing every inch of you and your body.

Witnessing as his cock sprung out, your clit throbbed and you could feel your nipples harden. Daryl gently runs his hand through your hair, making sure that you are enjoying every inch of this. You prop yourself up, sliding your panties to the side and gripping his shaft while slowly lowering yourself onto it. You could’ve came right then and there. He stretched you out, and was always able to make you feel full and complete.

He lets out a low grunt, not only watching you lower yourself onto him, but also feeling the tight and warm sensation of you around him. You needed a moment to adjust to his size, you both haven’t made love since before the war with the whisperers, you just haven’t had the time.

After a moment, you began to move, slowly rocking your hips and lifting yourself up onto him. “Fuck..” You couldn’t help but let out a moan, you were full, and you were overly sensitive. Daryl squinted his eyes shut for a moment, he too had forgotten the bliss and feeling of him inside of your cunt.

With time, you sped up, bouncing on his cock. You threw back your head, rolling your eyes and having your mouth agape, It was almost embarrassing how slutty you looked. His hands roughly gripped your hips, hard enough to leave bruises, while also thrusting up into you. You were close but you felt yourself starting to grow tired.

You buried your head into Daryl’s neck, whining. He took the chance to flip you over onto your back, and take control. He pounded into you, the sound of skin slapping and the headboard rutting into the wall filling the room. You heard Daryl growl and you let out a loud and filthy moan, feeling embarrassed you were quick to slap your hand over your mouth, until Daryl grabs your wrist, and puts it above your head.

“Wanna hear ya.” He whispered, his voice gravelly. He loved the sounds you’d make, especially knowing that you were making those noises because of him. He continued to fuck you into your mattress, having one hand pinning down yours, and the other on your hip. With your other free hand, you found it roaming up into his hair. His hand gripping your hip quickly moved under your thigh, lifting your leg above his shoulder and adjusting his position. He thrusted into you, hitting your sweet spot and going at a relentless pace. You whimpered and proceeded to tug on his locks, pulling it.

And that’s when he let out a whine.

You could feel your core tightening, knowing that you were close. “D-daryl.. Please don't stop.” Waves of pleasure were rushing through you, and his scent filling your nostrils.

“Ain’t gunna.” He then leaned into your neck, leaving kisses and love bites up and then down to your breasts. You could hear his accent begin to grow thicker, That's how you knew he was approaching his release as well.

You were head empty, feeling your walls tightening around his cock and clit brushing against him. You were both laced with sweat while also letting out gasps and whimpers. He knew your body so well, and knew all the right things just to tip you over the edge. Daryl was also incredibly gentle with you, this wasn’t just fucking this was love-making.

“Daryl.. Im gonna–” He interrupted you with a sloppy kiss, when he pulled away there was a string of saliva still connecting the both of you. He used his tongue to lick up from your chest to your neck, the feeling of his wet mouth against your skin, it sent shivers down your spine, and that’s when you couldn’t anymore. You gasped as you reached your peak, the knot in your tummy finally unraveling. He rode out your high, pounding into you a couple more times before he pulled out and came onto your belly, letting out a low groan and making a mess out of you.

He collapsed right beside you, the two of you were both a panting mess.

With both of you still slowly recovering, he moves to look towards you and uses his thumb and index finger to raise your chin. “Ya feelin’ better sunshine?” His little nickname for you forever gave you butterflies.

“Mhm! I think im due for another shower though...” You attempt to move, feeling Daryl’s warm serum drip down from your tummy to your legs.

“I’ll join ya.” He says, as he helps you up and directs you both to your bathroom.

Divider credits: anitalenia 🦋

[cybxrcvnt]

Something in me has awakened (it never slept)

[b1eedthefreak]

could you do overprotective daryl spanking/punishing f reader after “flirting” with a guy in alexandria

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. Belong To Me

⌇daryl dixon x reader

⌇summary: you’re ust being friendly with some guys in Alexandria. But Daryl sees everything, every touch, every look… and he doesn’t like sharing. You don’t realize what you’ve done, but he’s about to show you.

⌇warnings: rough sex, jealousy, possessive behavior, spanking, face down pinning, hair pulling, choking (light), dom!Daryl, dirty talk, power play, reader is oblivious, public flirting (not returned), unprotected sex

⌇word count: 3.9k

a/n: i combined this request with another one that was asking for daryl showing readers face into pillow white he plows her from behind :)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

❀ ⋆｡˚ ˚｡⋆❀

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You didn’t think you were doing anything wrong.

They were just being nice—just a group of guys who hung around the main square in Alexandria, laughing, talking, throwing out casual compliments. You smiled back, giggled at their stupid jokes, and made polite conversation because that’s how you were raised. Sweet, polite, bubbly. Your little sundress bounced at your thighs with every step, and you didn’t notice the way their eyes followed you.

What you also didn’t notice, was Daryl.

He’d just come back from a run, dirty and tired, ready to find you and crash. But the second he saw you surrounded by them his entire body snapped. You were standing in the middle of a group of young men, wearing that little pink dress he liked way too much, smiling so sweet it made his molars grind.

He stopped in his tracks, arms crossed, jaw clenched.

Then one of them leaned in and tried to hug you.

You laughed a little awkwardly, half hugging back, and Daryl could see the exact moment the guy motioned behind your back like he was slapping your ass. His hand hovered over the air, his friends snickering like it was the funniest damn thing they’d ever seen.

You didn’t even notice.

Daryl felt his vision blur with heat.

“Wow…” Eugene muttered next to him, sipping something from a mason jar. “That there’s a hormonal hotbed. I’ve read about it. Testosterone chaos. Unchecked pheromones. Like wolves fightin’ over a ham.”

Daryl didn’t even blink. He looked at Eugene like he’d lost his damn mind.

“Mind your damn business Fruit Loop,” Daryl growled.

Then he was moving.

You didn’t have time to react. One second, you were laughing politely, the next, your hand was in Daryl’s rough grip, being dragged down the street.

“Daryl? What’s goin’ on?” you asked, stumbling after him.

“This conversation is over,” he snapped, throwing a glare over his shoulder at the group.

He pulled you into the house and slammed the door behind you. Your back hit it with a soft thud as you stared up at him, heart pounding.

“Daryl! what the hell? They were just talkin’ to me—”

“The hell was that?” he growled, stepping into your space. “What’s so funny, huh?”

Your brows pinched together, confused and breathless. “They’re really nice guys. They even invited me to dinner—”

“Oh!” Daryl mocked, voice rising with a sharp, sarcastic bite. “They invited you to dinner!”

You blinked. “Well, yeah—”

“They invited you to dinner,” he repeated, stepping even closer, chest brushing yours. “But you didn’t see how they was lookin’ at you, huh?”

Your voice dropped, suddenly soft. “Daryl… I didn’t notice. I thought they were bein’ nice…”

He scoffed, running a hand through his dirty hair, eyes burning. “Didn’t notice. Right.”

You turned away for just a second, flustered, fixing the pillows on the couch and brushing the front of your dress, trying to calm the sudden tension in your chest.

That was his final straw.

“Bend over,” he ordered, voice low and dark.

You froze. “…What?”

“I said bend. Over.”

You turned, heart skipping, and he was already behind you, close, looming, breathing hard.

You bent at the waist, hands flat on the couch cushion as your ass pressed back, barely covered by your short dress.

In one rough motion, he shoved the fabric up around your waist.

“No panties?” he growled. “You walked around them fuckin’ guys like this?”

“I—I didn’t think—”

“Don’t fuckin’ lie,” he snapped, hands gripping your hips so hard it made you gasp. “You wanted their eyes on you, huh? Wanted to play sweet and innocent while they imagined bendin’ you over like this?”

Your breath hitched. “No! Daryl, I didn’t—”

“Shut up.”

His palm cracked against your ass, sharp and hot. You yelped, the sting blooming instantly.

Another slap. Then another.

“You don’t even see it,” he growled, punishing you with each strike. “Too busy batin’ your lashes to notice ‘em starin’ at your tits, your thighs, this fuckin’ ass.”

“I’m sorry—!” you whimpered, body jerking under his hands.

He leaned down, chest pressed to your back, breath hot at your ear. “You gon’ be.”

Then, without warning, he shoved his cock inside you in one rough, punishing thrust.

You cried out, eyes wide, fingers scrambling for the cushions. He didn’t give you time to adjust, just pulled out and slammed back in, over and over, fucking you into the couch with brutal, possessive force.

“This what you want?” he spat. “Wanted someone to fuck you like a whore in front of the whole damn street?”

“N-No—Daryl, please—”

“Yeah, you like this?” he growled, snapping his hips so hard your knees wobbled. “You’re squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight, you love when I lose my shit over you, huh?”

You moaned out loud, high pitched and wrecked.

And Daryl’s hand shot up, grabbing the back of your neck and shoving your face down into the pillow roughly.

“Too fuckin’ loud,” he muttered darkly against your ear, rutting into you harder. “Don’t need the whole goddamn street knowin’ how good you take my cock.”

You whimpered into the cushion, dizzy, drunk on the way he was breaking you open without an ounce of mercy.

He gripped your hips, dragging you back onto him, fucking you like he wanted to erase every damn guy’s eyes off your skin.

“Gonna let anyone else touch you like that again?” he hissed.

“No! Just you!”

His hand slid around your neck again, squeezing, not enough to hurt, just enough to make your breath catch.

“That’s fuckin’ right.”

Your orgasm hit you so hard you shook, crying his name into the fabric as your body snapped tight and then melted, completely undone.

Daryl didn’t stop. Not until he was chasing his own high, groaning rough into your ear as he filled you up, slamming into you one final time with a broken, possessive grunt.

Then everything stilled, your body trembling, chest heaving, dress bunched around your waist.

Daryl collapsed over you, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses down your back as his anger melted into something softer.

Regret. Relief. Love.

“…You really didn’t notice?” he rasped, voice rough, breath warm on your bare skin.

You shook your head, dazed and weak. “I swear baby. I didn’t even realize.”

He grunted, hauling you into his lap as he sat on the couch, still holding you tight like you might get up and walk away.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

❀ ⋆｡˚ ˚｡⋆❀

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[wild-rise]

Sunshine

Daryl Dixon x F!Reader Smut MDNI 18+

Summary: After a stressful day and years of animosity between you and Daryl the dynamics of your power struggle finally gets resolved. Safe to say you're finally put in your place.

Warnings: MDNI, 18+, Reader is a brat, Soft!Dom Daryl, Kinda mean Daryl, Teasing, Oral (M!receiving) Face F!cking, Binding (Readers wrists), Dirty Talk, Pervy Daryl, Thigh Riding, Just the t!p, P in V penetration, unprotected (Wrap it before you tap it folks), creampie. I think that's it...

“How ‘bout runnin’ that by me one more time sunshine?” Daryl gruffs out cocking his head to you making sure he wasn’t going crazy because there’s no way in hell you just said what he thinks you did.

“Your hearing going out now Dixon?” Just before you reach the door of his room you turn to face him again, invading his space, craning your head up to make sure the message gets through his thick skull this time.

 “Fuck. You. You redneck piece of shit.” The words cutting like knives as they roll off your tongue. Daryl holds his composure as he looks down at you and lets out an exasperated sigh.

“If you want to so bad all ya have to do is ask nicely.” That same smirk dancing on his lips. He made every nerve in your body boil till you only saw red. Daryl knew how to push every single button to set you off and get under your skin.

Without warning Daryl’s face is hit with your saliva “Fucking pig.” You’re seething at this point and now any hint of playfulness in Daryl’s features is gone. You turn on your heels to leave when suddenly his large hand wraps around your arm pulling you back to his hard chest.

“You’re a goddamn bitch ya know that?” Daryl practically growls the words at you as he wipes the spit off his face with the back of his hand.

“No. You’re just an inconsiderate asshat that’s just looking out for himself like always.” The venom of your tone doesn’t go unnoticed by Daryl as he holds you close noticing the heat radiating off your skin and your scent invading his senses.

“I’m the only reason you’re alive right now so if you know what’s good for you, I suggest you drop it, Sunshine.” That stupid nickname he gave you back on the farm had its way of making a shit situation even shittier and Daryl knew, that’s why he made sure to draw out each syllable.

There can never be a civil interaction between the two of you. You’ve been together for so long, but the animosity never faded. Rick even tried locking you both in a cell together at the prison but after three hours of arguing he let both of you out and go separate ways. No one bothered to intervene and after that your relationship simply stayed stagnant.  

Right now, as much as it pained you he was right. The only reason you’re standing here is because he followed you on your hunt which turned sour when your kill was taken by walkers. The loss made you unhinged, being the final straw to break your back after all the tragedy your community suffered after the whispers. You went on dropping body after body till you were starting to get outnumbered, but your stubbornness never let up. Daryl noticing your struggle and intervened before you could get hurt but to his surprise you turned your rage towards him before storming off back to Alexandira.

Bringing you back here telling off Daryl for being… helpful? Honestly the stress of everything you’ve endured and the loss the community has suffered is getting to you and you need a release, and Daryl is the only one who can take it.

Taking a deep breath as you hold eye contact with him you’re finally registering just how close the two of you are. His breath fanning over your face, hand still holding tightly to your arm and that’s when the intrusive ideas locked away in the deepest parts of your mind finally come to light. “And what exactly is best for me Daryl? Hm? Please do tell.” Your voice is barely above a whisper now.

 “Is that you askin nicely?” he says watching the shift in your demeanor and matching your tone.

“Don’t push it Dixon.” The sternness in your voice lacking conviction and Daryl decided then what he was going to do with you.

He brings his other hand up to your face cupping your check and leaning down just about to kiss you when “Ask nicely. Sunshine.” He says right on your lips. How could he be even more frustrating, especially at a time like this. “Tell me what’s best for me. Please.” Sarcasm dripping on your every word. The fire in you is impossible to extinguish and honestly, it’s what Daryl loves about you so much and he’d die before he ever saw it put out but right now it needs to desperately be controlled.

“How bout ya let me show you.” And as quickly as the words fall from his mouth, he’s pressing his lips to yours. His actions are filled with hunger and desire as a mixture of saliva form between you. Your hands come up to find purchase on his broad shoulders as he deepens the kiss exploring every inch of your mouth. “Get on your knees. Now” the words going straight to your cunt but the brat in you can’t help but be defiant. “Ask nicely.” You mock him and the hand cupping your cheek travels to the back of your head grasping your hair tightly and dragging you down to your knees. “You just don’t know when to fuckin quit do ya? That shit stops now you understand?” The tenderness on your scalp stings from his grip but you welcome the sensation as a soft whimper leaves you confirming Daryl’s suspicion.

You wanted someone to put you in your place and take control. You didn’t want to have to think just do what you’re told and feel something other than the suffering you’ve endured.

“That so hard? Now, can you get my belt off or do ya need help with that too?” Realizing your predicament, you reach your hands up to undo his belt and pull down his zipper. Daryl releases his hand from your hair before pulling his belt off through the loops of his pants. “Hands behind your back.” Doing exactly what he says Daryl comes behind you tying your hands behind your back with his belt. Anticipation floods your body as Daryl stands back in front of you pulling his cock out of the confines of his jeans. The angry red tip directly in your face leaking precum and begging for a release. He was bigger than you imagined and the thought of him ramming your throat made your panties even more wet than before.

“Open up sunshine.” Lolling your tongue out Daryl slowly pushes his cock past your lips a little at a time allowing you to get comfortable with the position. Once you get a steady rhythm of sucking and licking his length Daryl’s hands return to your hair pulling you off him.

“Should’ve known cock would shut you up.” Daryl groans as he slides back into the warmness of your mouth. The sounds he made were almost heavenly enough to distract you from the pain in the back of your throat... almost. Your pace is quickly abandoned as Daryl starts bucking his hips in your face stuffing your throat full of his cock. Tears stream down your cheeks and the pressure from his belt straining on your wrists start to make your head dizzy and you can hardly breathe. “Fucking hell sunshine your takin me so well.” Daryl stops holding your head at the base of his dick till you start squirming from the lack of oxygen and he pulls you off completely. Taking a gasp of air trying to regain composure, you whine when he hoists you back up onto your feet.

“You gonna stop being a bitch or should I just let you finish sucking my dick and leave you here to take care of yourself?” He asks in such a kind way, but his actions moments ago were anything but. “I’ll stop. Promise, please Daryl.” You cry at him just needing something more as the desire grew within you. “Good girl. See I knew you had it in you.” He takes his belt off your wrists and has the rest of your garments following suit. Daryl guides you to lie on his bed and the vulnerable feeling of being completely exposed while he’s still fully dressed has your cheeks burning red. Daryl bends down to pick up your soaked panties, bring them to his face and takes a deep breath before shoving them in his back pocket. “Constellation prize.” He winks at you as you moan desperate for him to do anything to you.

“Are you going to actually touch me or just keep being a perv?” You groan at him as he pulls off his clothes joining you on his bed. “Just takin my time, don’t be so impatient.” You want to cry from the pressure building up at your cunt. Daryl could tell how needy you were from how much you’ve been pressing your thighs together chasing any type of satisfaction. Caging you between his forearms he slots a leg between yours adding pressure to your long awaiting cunt. Your arousal is prominent enough to leave remanence behind on his leg, but he doesn’t move. “Go on, hump my leg like the bitch you are.” His words hushed into your ear make the tears come back to your eyes. He was being so mean, and it was turning you on so much. With a strangled moan you started dragging your hips up and down, rubbing against his leg as he marked up and down your neck and chest leaving a path of hickeys and bruises. Your hips started bucking faster as you felt that familiar sensation of your approaching orgasm but just as you were about to let go Daryl pulls his thigh away from you.

“Daryl please I’m s-so ssorry I’ll be nice I’ll do whatever you want just plea-please make me cum.” You were a sight to behold, so worked up and desperate just for him and oh how he loved it. “Since you asked so nicely.” He leans down to give you a kiss but this time it was different. This time it lacked primal urgency from before, it was tender and attentive.

Now Daryl had your legs on either side of him as he lined his cock up with your dripping, aching pussy. He slowly pushed just the tip and watched your greedy cunt try to suck him in some more and your sobbing persisted. He leaned down peppering kisses along your jaw, shushing you trying to calm you down. “Next time I won’t be so harsh on ya if you use your manners, Sunshine.” Is all he whispers in your ear before sitting back up and ramming his entire length in you bottoming out.

Your cries and moans are so loud he’s pretty sure someone’s going to come down thinking you’re in danger, but he could care less because the sounds you’re making right now are music to his ears. The way he’s pressing your legs apart sends a burn through your thighs and your breasts are bouncing at the rhythm of his thrusts. “Doing so fuckin good for me f-fuck this pussy’s just suckin me in S-Sunshine.” His tough guy act falters as he speeds up his pace. Daryl quickly puts your legs onto his shoulders allowing him to hit that one spot deep in your body that has you seeing stars.

“Oh, fuck Daryl yes, yes right there oh my god please d-don’t stop.”  You cry out begging him for your release. "Wasn't plannin' on it. Fuck it's like this pussy was made for me." Daryl keeps up the same pace and brings a hand down rubbing tight circles on your clit. The added stimulation is enough to send you over the edge moaning Daryl’s name over and over again. The spasming of your cunt has him losing the fight of holding off his orgasm as he finishes deep inside you. “Fucking take it. F-fuck take it all.” He says while he delivers the final thrusts riding out both of your highs.

    Daryl rolls over, bringing you into his chest and caresses your hair while you both try to catch your breath. “What do you say? Hm?”

You look up at him through your lashes and taking in his disheveled appearance you realize this is a sight you could easily get used too.  “Thank you. Daryl.” Your voice is hoarse from the amount of screaming and moaning he pulled from you which sparked pride to flood through his chest.

“You are very welcome, Sunshine.” He feels content finally taming your fire as he traces patterns on your back while you slowly drift off to sleep.

[writella]

Screwed Up and Brilliant

Synopsis: Negan is ready for you. Daryl isn’t; and maybe he’ll never be. Negan makes that clear to you tonight.

Details: Negan Smith x fem!reader, Daryl Dixon x fem!reader (mentioned), Negan is a bad guy but there is nuance— at least I hope I accomplished doing so, angst, guilt, forbidden love, probably super stereotypical, reader at the Sanctuary, moral dilemma reader (but you got to understand, they’re both so fine!!), I feel like I need more cws but I can’t think of them and of course, smut, 18+: consensual, unprotected, vague dacryphilia, soft? dom!Negan, lite daddy kink, fingerings, riding, and basically just Negan blowing your brains out… but not in the walker way— the good way, the way we like. Amen.

A/N: Could you believe I started writing this in October or something? This is my first time writing Negan and I’m scared I may not have gotten it right so definitely feel free to give notes! This is set during season 7/8, I’m picturing Negan at the end of 8 and later seasons but there’s something about him older that gives me heart eyes everywhere, but whatever you prefer makes me happy. Anyway, from my heart, and maybe somewhere a little lower, to yours; with love from writella. ♡

You’re screwed up and brilliant, look like a million-dollar man; so why is my heart broke?

—— LDR, Million Dollar Man

The space was clean; minimal. The kind that let out no secrets of the owner that inhabited its insides. And of course there were the little things that let out some slight details: the ashtray on the nightstand— a smoking habit; a ring, a metal chain, another of black rope— an unsuspected, albeit small, interest in jewelry; the bottom nightstand closed by a lock—mysterious and cautious, though that was to be expected. It was only reasonable he’d have something he wanted hide. But other than that, Negan’s bedroom was quite unreadable; almost purposefully mundane.

There was a fireplace, a window at the corner, and a bed at the center. It had a dark, brass, rusted headboard that leaned against the wall. Two pillows at either side. The sheets were white, and the large blanket was of fur, a tan or medium brown, it was thick and heavy. Probably unnecessary for the approaching spring heat, but it adored the bed end well; matching the other bronze, or brown, wooden and darker aspects of the room. Even the light from the small fire, though you could see clearly, made everything mildly dim— the Sanctuary wasn’t known for its brightness after all.

And truly, nothing in this bedroom, or in this fortress of a place could be described as anything close to bright. Unless you counted the sun outside in the courtyard, or the largest fireplace that blazed in the main hall, or Negan’s piercing, priceless smile— so pristinely white, so wide it almost looked painful to perform. There was an eeriness to it as well. That was at the forefront, and everyone saw it. With the way he maintained their cleanliness, it was something that could look so pure, so put-together on any other; but on him, its power could scare you into worthlessness. It’s the one he used when he told someone what to do even if they hated it; it’s the one he used when killing someone’s best friend.

It’s also the one he used on the first day he ever spoke to you. The first time that truly mattered, really.

It was during Negan’s first supply gathering at Alexandria.

You still remember it well.

Your faces filled with desolation, but chins held high; you were strong— good at hiding the pain, the fear— only straight, pokered eyes and mouths allowed as everyone silently agreed with you. You had told Negan that Maggie was dead.

The Widow, he had coined her. The wife of your good friend that he killed— so generous a man was Glenn, even when he wasn’t trying to be. And she’s your friend too, brave Maggie. That’s the one he wanted, but as far as he knew, she was gone.

Thank God, you thought, Thank God, yes, indeed, until—

Negan’s eyes glazed over your frame for just a moment too long.

You weren’t speaking anymore. You kept it short enough. He should have turned his attention back to Rick but he didn’t.

Where there was sly roguery in Negan’s eyes, anxiety weld in the looks of all others: Rick’s throat tensed and tightened uneasily, sweat trailing down his curls and onto his forehead; Rosita’s jaw clenched with bitterness, brows furrowing under her green khaki cap with anger; and then there was Gabriel: his eyes turned from solemnity and pretend peacefulness to wide bewilderment. The plan you two exchanged had worked: you would tell Negan of Maggie’s passing, as per your idea, and Gabriel would swiftly solidified your lie by saying he was the one who officiated the short funeral. But then, another problem arose; one where he could be nothing else but helpless in aiding you. What was he, or anyone to do? It was easy to help Maggie, she was more than twenty miles away. But you, you were here. Right in front of him.

“Wait a minute…” Negan’s pointer shakes lightly by his temple, his mind turning curiously. “You.” He said, shooting his finger in the direction of your chest.

His smile, mischievous as ever, only grew wider as a moment passed and he made his realization: “You’re the one with that- tight- grip!” He balled his raised hand into a fist as he said it. A slight snicker came after, proud of his entendre. “My men were tryna put Daryl in the trunk and you latched onto his foot like it was your dying- act- which—” you attempt to lessen the startle in your eyes at his upward hitch in tone, “—it most certainly could have been.”

Negan comes closer now, his face nearing your own, “But you know better now, right?”

Obviously, you did not.

Or you would have stayed home, not given him the chance to remember you as he said he would after your nails could no longer claw into Daryl’s ankle. He was thrashing too much and Negan’s men pushed you away; they were too strong together against the two of you. They kicked dirt in your face for it, held a gun to your head until Negan told them to stop. His point was made with your two friends he had killed, no need for another— especially not one who amused him like you had just done.

‘DAYUM. She is surprisingly strong!’ He had yelled, ignoring the weeping faces of you and the group kneeling in a line on the ground; sweat, blood, and tears dripping everywhere. ‘And I do like ‘em loyal…’ He had given you a once over while telling his men, ‘Hands off, gentlemen,’ and before returning his attention back to Rick, he added, ‘I’ll keep my eye on you.’

And he did.

You made an impression.

Now you’ll pay.

Rick should have told you why he wanted you to stay with Judith. He remembered what Negan said too. He remembered what Negan said to everyone. He couldn’t forget. But maybe it didn’t matter. It was only the start of Negan’s day here. Maybe he would have found you anyway.

Rick would feel it was all his fault nonetheless, but all you could think about is how truly, it was your own, and no one’s at all.

The sun allows glints of wickedness to sparkle in the whites of Negan’s teeth as he continues imparts his demand, “From now on, don’t stop me when I’m giving an order, okay?” It’s like you can hear him underlining his words just with his darkened voice. Turning his waist, he extends his hand to everyone as he finishes, “And that goes for all of you.”

You force your face to remain leveled as he meets your eyes again, that cheshire look returning directly toward you. He curls his head to the side, whispering near your profile, “So… you’re his girl, huh?”

Your mouth becomes slightly agape. You don’t even realize it before you can try to close it. He asked the question of aversion, or at least that’s what you assumed it was to Daryl.

You knew it was just his way, that speaking about things like this might have not been his strong suit. Besides, there were more things to worry about almost all the time, but it still hurt to know that when asked, the only complete and honest answer there could be was no.

Your eyes trail down slowly, desperate to avoid his, and Daryl’s face— a few feet away from you— turning to the side, looking at nothing. He could not hear what was being asked, but maybe Rick did, Rosita and Gabriel too. It was unclear, but their eyes prodded with more tension, more worry, Daryl could register that, and even more so, he could not stand Negan’s face that close to yours; he was probably trying to make an advance on you, scare you, or both. He pretends not to care, but ultimately it’s useless. Negan detects your expression and turns to look at Daryl’s; he notices both failing attempts at impassivity.

“Oh,” he muses, voice returning to its normal volume, “or not, my bad…. I guess that does make more sense though.” He speaks louder now, casually, like he’s a close friend consoling you about your boy troubles, “I personally haven’t been able to hold a conversation with the guy either, and I’m just tryna be friends.”

Daryl was right. Negan was weaseling his way in. He snarls because of it.

Only Dwight hears this and sends him a warning glare.

You feel the sweat beading from your hairline to the nape of your neck. The danger felt from Negan’s presence was as thick as the sun’s heat that shone directly on the cemetery grove. It’s hard to look up and especially to look at him directly for that long as if he truly was the fire in the sky, so you look down again.

Negan pats your shoulder sympathetically, his hand then going to hold up your chin, his thumb tracing your jaw softly.

It makes Daryl’s arms twitch and his stance jerks forward, but he’s pushed back, Dwight beating him on the chest. It’s only once but you can hear it, everyone heard it.

It only makes Negan’s grin become more sly because— there it is— a reaction; an answer. It makes what he’s about to do that much more sweet: “Fuck, darlin’. I’m sorry. Idiot,” he tisks. Then more quietly he adds, “I’m not one though.”

This time it’s for sure: Rick caught that, and Rosita too. They give each other an alarming look as Negan continues to trail over your dispirited form, like a wilted flower. His hand lowers back down to your shoulder, then trails to your arm, to the elbow, and then off of you entirely.

Despite the feeling of Lucille under his grasp telling him he shouldn’t, Rick urges himself to speak before Negan says what they all know is coming. “Negan,” he starts, swallowing the slight shake in his voice, “would you like to see the pantry—”

“Did I ask you to speak, Rick?” Negan states, his frame still positioned in front of you. “I’m thinkin’ here… I’m thinkin’… particularly, that you should come with me.”

Daryl makes a sound that you couldn’t hear, for Dwight was already barking a “Shut up,” at him. Only the swat he gives to Daryl’s shoulder is what is once again heard by all.

You almost choke on your gasp, but you hold it in. Only letting out the faintest sound as you ask, “What?”

“You heard me,” he plainly says. “I mean, what do you even do here anyway?”

You almost felt embarrassed to answer.

“No, I’m askin’. Seriously. Does Rick actually utilize you?”

As you begin, your voice is still quiet, “I… I work in the garden, with the produce… I help tutor the kids… I go on runs, gather supplies. I cook. Help with weapons maintenance, I—” you stop, realizing your grocery list of jobs probably sounds pathetic to him, you’re like a chore boy, “— I do a lot. But everyone does.”

“Hm,” Negan responds, playing with his nails nonchalantly. Your thoughts come to fruition with his next words, “So you’re just everyone’s helper?”

He noticed the sad offense emanating from your eyes, so he raised his hands, “And those are important things to do, I mean it. It must mean you know quite a bit from everyone, that’s smart, and there’s no trouble in it. But… I saw you. I think you can do more.”

“How?” You can still only gasp out your words. “I’m not Maggie. And she’s not here.”

“No.” He brings up one finger, “But you’re clever,” you look at him confused as he brings up his middle finger to join the first, “and quick on your feet, that I now know.” A third and fourth finger comes up, “You’re strong, you’re loyal— things I’ve stated before.” Then the fifth he says with a smug smile, “And you’re a looker, I must admit.” He moves his hand to one side of his mouth, pretending to secretly tell you, “But that’s just a plus,” he winks. “And more importantly, it seems to me that just like most people in Prick’s community, you are undervalued and not paid attention to whereas I see potential.” He says it all so simply, he truly believes he’s offering you so much better that he finally ends by saying: “Hm. Yeah. I think you’ll be much better off with me.”

And so, with no true goodbyes said, in a van you went after Negan’s visit was done. A different one from Daryl’s, of course. Taken away from the first home you had in ages.

Before the trunk door closed, Negan gave you parting words: “You see?” He had said, “I told you I’d remember you, didn’t I?”

The words rang in your ears for the entire ride as they still do now, even more or less than two months later as you sit in his room.

Your heartbeat started to rise little by little as time went on and he hadn’t arrived. With the window allowing you to escape into thought, you were left to think about the last couple of days, and specifically, the last time you were in here:

You were sitting with him on his bed. You had asked if you could talk about anything other than the world you two lived in now, and surprisingly, he obliged. It was nice. Sometime later, he had finally opened that locked drawer.

You heard him suck his teeth, what he was getting seemed lost, which allowed you to take a closer peek inside.

There was a picture of a woman. The first wife? The only real one? You couldn’t tell and you wouldn’t ask, it would have been too much. You didn’t even get a good look at the woman anyway— part of her face was covered and he was fast. But he saw your eyes, so you decided to take note of the books you caught a glimpse of, pretending it was the only thing you saw. You try to think of something to say… It did make sense he was a reader, at least even mildly if that was all it was. The way he describes his ideals, his persuasiveness, his diction— it impressed you, even if you disagreed with a lot of it. It was almost ironic that the only cover you saw was of a dictionary, the more valuable ones probably hidden under. “Is that where you get all your big boy words from?” You asked.

“Some of them,” he joked back, composing himself.

It was strange to almost catch him off guard. It was so unlike him to allow it, but what happened next felt even more surprising.

Whatever he got from the drawer was enclosed in his hand. He put the free one on top of the other as he started, “Now… I don’t want you thinking I’m growing soft on you. I just thought you deserve it because—” and then his voice fades. Even Negan, the ever curse-filled wordsmith, was finding it hard to describe in any other way that he was pleased with something as absurd as you not trying to escape anymore. He knew you would probably think that was the only reason for a gift, but then he opted for something that even you couldn’t help but know was equally true, “You don’t seem to proactively hate me anymore. You’re here. I appreciate it, so I wanted to,” he says sincerely. “That’s all.”

Negan opened his hand, resting the piece in your palm— it was a locket; lovely and rusted floral engravings all over it.

You felt sad that you thought it was beautiful, and even worse for knowing the reasons why he was giving it to you. No wonder his voice had faltered.

You remember the soft shock and awe on your face, how you said thank you and how your face felt so hot when you said it, how he asked you to turn, and how you looked at him from behind you after he put the piece on. He was so close and it felt like he was coming closer. You don’t remember if that part was real, but you can see it so clearly that it must have been. Unfortunately, the only thing you remember for certain is that knock at the door that sent Negan away to handle whatever was going on downstairs.

Had you almost let him kiss you? Would you have liked it? Are you the most deplorable person for even thinking that while Daryl was somewhere else locked up at the time?

“I see they delivered my message.”

You return from your daze, your startle leaving as soon as it comes.

It was just him. There Negan finally was.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to just come in. The door was unlocked.”

“I knew the meeting was gonna go longer than expected; thought you might as well make yourself comfortable.” He gestures to you, “which I see you did, and no—“ you were getting up from his bed, “it’s fine.” Negan sets Lucille near the door. He walks over to you, sitting down on the edge of his bed as well. There is a bit of distance between you two.

“You know, I came back the other day,” he informs, “I was actually going to talk to you last night, but then I heard you tried to leave. Again.” His eyebrows furrow, “We still on that?” He asks. “Thought we had a breakthrough the other night.”

“But after Carl—“

“—Carl,” he interjects, “came here all by his badass self, and for that, I did not lay even my pinky fuckin’ finger on him.” His hand goes to his chest, “I even took him home like a gentleman. And after I got here and found out they put you in a cell without supper, I had you back in your bed before midnight yesterday, so I’d say I’m doing pretty well.”

“Seriously?” Your incredulity is hidden under the softness of your voice as you say it, but it’s cracking.

“As a heart attack. It’s your ex-people who don’t listen. At least I was nice this time.”

You sigh heavily, docility officially fading. You shake your head with a slight chuckle, “That’s hard to believe. Especially if you were gone for most of the day. I know what that means. You had whatever the fuck your version of fun is.”

He grits his teeth, holding his words back. You’ve gotten a little too comfortable with the back talk, and you especially shouldn’t be saying anything after the night you had yesterday, but he allows it.

This time.

Of course, he didn’t like you leaving, but he rather that it was Daryl who escaped than you. And based on the bruises: one on the side of your head, one high on your shoulder— he imagines you might have gotten pushed against a wall— and the light ones that littered in a couple of spots on both your arms— he could tell his men must have been rough with you as they brought you back. He didn’t like that; therefore, he lets you quip. Someone would be getting their own bruises for it some time later anyway. He would take your smartass mouth out on them to cover for it.

“Maybe,” he finally says. “Nothing was undeserved though.”

You breathe in, the back and forth was no use. “What happened yesterday?” You asked, losing the sarcasm. Your eyes peered into his for honesty, hoping to skip the sly replies and get to the truth. “Just tell me what happened at home.”

Home. You knew better than to use that word. In fact, you have just stopped using that word. He let out an exasperated laugh, but skipped the lecture. “You want the truth? Or just the SparkNotes?”

You roll your eyes lightly. You probably don’t even notice you did it. Despite the situation being discussed, it makes Negan’s head turn endearingly— your tone of voice, the things you say, the way you react to him… you still don’t realize how fresh you’ve gotten with him, how comfortable. But he sees it.

“Alright. Well, Spencer’s gone.” He reveals offhandedly, replying to your silence.

Your eyes do not widen, you know what gone means. You simply nod and try to not think about how the now-cleaned bat most likely looked before.

“And don’t tell me that you care,” he says, pretending to interject to your continuing silence. “You gotta know he was a small dick nepo-prick, right?”

You bite the inside of your lip, shaking your head slightly. You won’t give in to a cheap joke even if it was pretty accurate, so he beckons you by name, “C’mon, that was funny.”

Still, you give him nothing.

He sighs; taking off his leather; and sits near you on the bed, his hands cupping the ledge. “Thought we were finally over this quiet thing.”

“A lot has happened this week.”

“Like…” he prodes. He would only talk about it if you brought it up.

Your eyes shut tightly before opening again. You didn’t want to say it, but you had to. “You know what. Daryl.”

He states the fact plainly, “Daryl left you.”

“Are you kidding me?” Your voice is fierce now. You can’t believe it. You won’t. “He’s not that kind of person and this isn’t an easy place to get out of— I obviously know that— he wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I know,” he jeers, “but he did and he didn’t bring you with him. Even though you were found trying to find his cell. That’s some real idiotic bullshit right there, isn’t it? From both of you.”

You glared at him hotly, you wouldn’t give it up, but unfortunately you had no rebuttal. Both of you would just continue on with the same argument, the conversation going nowhere. And not because either side knew they were completely right; in truth, neither of you actually knew what happened the other day. But in this regard, you felt there was no other choice: you believed in Daryl fully.

Because he wouldn’t.

He couldn’t.

Right?

You continue shaking your head, trying to find something to say in retaliation as you feel your sureness withering. Separating you two was the smartest tactic. You now have nothing to hold onto. “He wouldn’t,” you repeat pathetically, “I don’t believe you.” Unfortunately it’s not quite enough, so he continues with a rant you know all too well.

“You don’t believe me?” He cups the ends of the bed more tightly, positioning himself closer to you. “When I’m the one who gave you the safest roof? Secure food, clean water, access to all these pretty dresses, which, I know you’ve become accustomed to—” and here it comes— “I saved you!”

Saviors and their “saving,” you sneered at it. What bullshit. “You didn’t save me.”

“But I gave you someone to talk to… Huh?” He taunts, waiting for your response but nothing comes. He uses it to his advantage, “You’re quiet cause you know it’s true.”

But you know something too. He says it before you can.

“Or fuck, maybe I just gave myself someone to talk to.”

You pretend you can’t hear the earnesty in it. “Stop,” you scoff. “Don’t treat me like I’m special. I was the second choice.”

“I think with my dick sometimes. You’re the only choice.”

You start to shake your head, your face is flushed; scared, hot, and a little bit of something else that you refuse to let out. Then the tears come— the room feels so big and you two are so close and there are so many feelings you’re trying to push down. “It doesn’t matter,” you say wearily, “You took me. And you took him. You hurt him, I saw his face.” Your voice begins to tremble, almost in unison with the tears that peak out on your eyelids. “And that outfit you put him in. He didn’t even look me in the eye.”

“Stop,” he warns.

“You didn’t even let me see him.”

“He doesn’t notice you.”

“You don’t know us.”

“I know you.”

“You don’t know him.”

“I know you’re not happy… What about the other night?”

You ignore him, shaking your head: “You hurt my friends.”

“What about the other night?” He persists, his voice slowly growing louder. “What about every time I let you sit in on my meetings? What about how you have your own room? What about how I actually talk to you?”

“You let him get hurt—” the tears start to fall, there is a quiver in your voice but you still match his near shout, “And you almost killed Carl—”

“Shut up.”

“And you killed Abraham—”

He warns you by name.

“And Glenn! Maggie’s husband—”

“SHUT. UP.”

“The baby won’t have a father, Negan!”

His voice is low and grim as he demands you to “Stop. Now.” Negan grabs the sides of your neck as he says his next line, it comes out brisk and harsh and heavy like his touch as his hand wraps around your neck. “I knew you lied to me.”

Your voice is hushed, feeling his lightly pressed thumbs on the front of your throat as you speak shakily, “I’ve never lied to you.”

“Maybe not since you’ve been here, but did you hear yourself right now?” He pauses, allowing you a second to let it sink in. “You just fucking proved it.”

Your eyes widen at the realization. The baby, you had said. Fuck.

“See? Told you, you were smart.”

And he did. Brave Maggie. Clever you. That was his reason number one.

“You have to get why.”

His voice remains eerily calm. “I do.”

Another tear falls and his thumb presses its pad under your eye, spreading a tear on your face as the next one comes down.

“Negan…” you say. It’s a mix of a warning and a plea but you can’t tell for what, both fear and fire mix together because of his proximity. His touch and stare was dangerous, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was pleased he caught your slip up, thrilled to see you cry, but there was also something about it— his touch, his eyes— that was equally intoxicating. There was something more tender there as well, something you didn’t want to turn away from, he wasn’t as rough as you thought. Nonetheless, your answer to these conflicting feelings are ones of neglect, you stay your course. “You’re a bad person,” you tell him.

“Please,” he whispers back, “just stop.”

His eyes glaze over your features with an intent look you’ve only seen once before, it was that other night in fact. It’s almost gentle, but maybe it’s just pity, so you don’t let it stop you. “But you are.”

“Stop,” he pleads, then it’s hushed, “just stop…” he says, “just stop.” Then he starts coming closer. “Tell me to stop.”

And you know you should get up.

You should, you should, you should, you know it but— you don’t.

You breathe into it.

His lips latch onto yours; your heads tilt; you lock perfectly.

Everything after happens fast, the instantaneous mess of it all: he waited and waited, and of course he would. He was waiting for you to see it, to feel it. He thought the other night was the breakthrough, but no, it was tonight, it was how you didn’t back away just now.

His hand goes lower on your leg, nearing your knees so he can get under your dress, trailing up your thigh, reaching the inner side that’s pressed up to the other one.

His hand on your neck brings you in closer, traveling up to under your chin and jaw, holding you so tight, but so sweetly. All you felt was surprise. He slips his tongue in, it's deep and intense. He brings a velvet warmth that you’d never expect from him. It was paradoxical; a fiery heaven of a feeling.

He starts rubbing your clit over your panties, kissing his way up to your ear as he does so to ask, “When’s the last time someone’s fucked you?”

Your lips are parted, but you cannot speak, so he continues.

“Daryl never did, did he?” He asks in a muffle, continuing to kiss and kiss. “Who was before him?”

Again, no verbal response, but your breath does hitch at his touches. He continues to draw circles, your wetness now slowly dampening the material, making it easier for his finger to place itself between your folds, so he dips his hand under the band. That and his whispering makes you feel a kind of spark that shoots all the way down to where his fingers are touching. The first press of his thumb without any material in between forces a sudden heat to rise that instantly causes a flush of liquid to slip down your hole, it feels messier than it actually is until his fingers go lower spreading it everywhere. You were much wetter than you thought, and you can’t help how good it feels, how easily you’re responding to it.

Negan calls your name, holding in every cocky reply he wanted to give about how wet you are— he needed an answer to his question first. So he looks you in the face, making sure he has your full attention, “You’re fuckin’ with me, right?” His words are meant more genuinely than his tone implies. “Not at all during any of this?”

You shake your head small and slowly. No.

He laughs pitifully, he doesn’t mean it rudely, but he just can’t help it. A touch-starved baby at the mercy of his fingertips? “Well, god-damn.”

He felt like a rich man.

He begins to kiss your lips again, now pumping his fingers into you. Your walls tighten. It’s only two, but they’re his. It’s new and exciting. His kiss makes you lean into the bed, the force of his head and tongue going deeper into your mouth guiding you to lay flat as his fingers still play.

“I hope you know how fucking soaked you are,” he finally says. “You need it so bad that it feels this damn good with me only touching you like this?” You can’t help the way your body jerks up and he can’t help but be smug about it. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”

Your eyes grow vicious at his grin, you almost want to hit him, but you can’t. All you can do is suppress your moan into a quiet whine. He’s so magnetic— his touch feels forbidden but so right; his voice so alluring; and his midas touch pulls you deeper and deeper into a trance, you might as well be turning into gold. Other than the involuntary reactions your body makes as his fingers continue going into your hole, now slowly going in and out as his eye gloss over your body in your favorite dress that you wore the most, you’re left paralyzed; subjected to following his lead. Wherever he wanted to go next, you’d let him.

He takes his fingers from inside of you and you look up quickly. You made sure not to whine at the loss of contact but your eyes couldn’t hide your dismay. All he did was smile and quickly lick away the wetness.

“Just takin’ this off,” he tells you as his hands cross over to the ends of his white t-shirt, slipping it off and onto the ground, one of those small rope chains hitting his chin as he does so.

It was only his shirt but you’re struck by him: to see more of his ever present sun-kissed skin felt almost godly. He was pretty lean, not too lanky like his stature, but not too broad either. Light curves of muscles adorned his chest and shoulders and arms. His chest and abdomen were slightly hairy, a tattoo placed on the upper right side and you finally saw the other tattoos placed on his upper arms more clearly. They looked nice on him. He was so handsome. You felt more wetness peeking out from down below. He looked so big above you.

“Like what you see, beautiful?” That typical snark still laced his voice, but there was a genuinity to it as well. He wanted you to like what you saw; to like him.

His words make your face hot, eyes casting off to the side. It was easier to talk to him when you were mad at him, when it was about home, even just small talk about the Sanctuary; this felt… different. Just like the other night.

You had almost already forgotten that his charm worked this way too; in a kinder way— when his eyes are wide, when his smile is soft, when he calls you sweet names without the irreverent, quip-filled pretenses.

It made you have all the words on the tip your tongue: how handsome and sexy you could say he is, how much you liked his tattoos, even all the greys that littered his hair and beard l, or how, if you had to admit it, you liked that dumb shit-eating grin of his, but all you can do is lightly smile, a quiet laugh escaping your lips at your bashfulness. You finally nod. “Yes,” you say, rolling your eyes, “maybe.”

He starts undoing his belt with a laugh of his own, “Oh I know you’re a fuckin liar if you think I’m a maybe.”

As his pants drop to the floor he takes each hand and places them over your shoulders on the bed to ask, “May I take off the lady’s dress?”

Your eyes widened, your open mouth only letting out a sweet, surprised, and whispered, “Huh?”

“What? Didn’t expect me to be a gentleman?”

You try to compose yourself, calm the fire you feel all throughout your body, and pretend you haven’t already given in completely right when he kissed you. “I just didn’t expect it would be all this slow.”

He laughs inwardly, glad to see the personality he came to know come back after all that happened these past two days. “Just give me a moment,” he jokes back. “You think I’m gonna waste seeing the reaction of you watching my cock spring out just so I can shove it in fast? ” He comes closer, his voice lowers now, “Believe it or not, I don’t think you’re just some doll or a fuck-piece.” The groundedness of his voice is something you’ve never heard before. “I’m pretty sure I’ve already stated that I see you. And truly, I think you’re damn gorgeous.”

Your eyes are stars. How can you even react? He thinks you’re gorgeous and you’re taken aback. “Thank you,” is all you can quietly say.

“You’re welcome.” He responds with eyes that have never looked so honest, so soft. You get lost in them and he has to pull you back, returning to his question, “May I?”

You nod, quick and excitedly, “You can take it off, Negan.”

He grabs your hands and stands you up. You look up at his face and his fingers move to the ends of your dress, pulling it over your head.

The tips of his fingers trace your chest and stomach lightly, delicately touching your skin as if it’s porcelain. He grabs your waist and travels up to take off your bra, then pushes down your wet underwear.

Negan’s cock stirs at the sight, you’re so pretty and so ready for him. “And I didn’t even need to see it to know I was right.” Just like he said, you’re gorgeous.

Negan pushes down his boxers. Cock springing up. Big and veiny with a red tip. He was itching to get inside of you.

And there you were, eyes and mouth open wide, scared and excited all at once. You were intimidated but surprisingly not scared if it would fit or not. You would let him do anything to get himself inside of you, even if it hurt.

“There it is,” he says, pleased with your reaction. He comes closer to your ear now, pushing you down by the hips against the bed once more. “And trust me, if you like that, you won’t fucking believe how I’ll feel inside of you. Just wait.”

“I…” He wanted to make you feel good, you’re almost speechless. “I’m ready.”

“Good.” He says, and then he places himself above you, admiring your glistening folds as he spreads your legs. He already lines himself up, he could look at you forever but he is in no desire to wait any longer. He pushes in. It’s a bit fast, a tight fit, it must have hurt you, but he’s too excited, he can’t help it. He lets out a hum and then a groan at the feeling of your walls enclosing him, and he hears you gasp at his size. He starts to pump into you immediately.

His face hovers over yours. His eyes study your features and he realizes he’s never been this close. Of course he hasn’t, he’s never fucked you, made love to you. He’s just now noticing the way your eyelashes curl, what birthmarks adorn your upper body or not, and how many earrings you may have, but most importantly, he’s noticing the way you react to him: the way your eyebrows might scrunch, or what elicits more pants and squirmings, the way your lips tug tightly against each other or open into ovals and circles depending on what he does, how he thrusts, where he touches, how he moves.

It all makes him slowly speed up. He can’t take it anymore. He kisses your neck and jaw— some kisses sweet, then others that are rough and he begins to pump and pump. Faster and faster.

“Oh,” you choke out before moaning, “ah.”

He continues, loving every facial expression you make until he finally speaks. “Alright. I gave you a break— now tell me how it feels?”

All you can do is whine incoherently.

“Excuse me?” He says more sternly. You know what he wants.

“Negan,” you whine again.

He stops. “Yes?” He asks all too knowingly. “Gonna use your words and tell me how it feels?”

You sigh, taking the hand placed on your hip and moving up toward the ends of your stomach, all the way up to your left breast. You let his hand rest there, feeling the heat and your quickened heartbeat radiating from the area. “You… you feel so good.” Your eyes are watery, “Amazing.”

You got him there, and he almost can’t help but start hammering it in, but then he remembers… he doesn’t have to help it. He could do whatever he wanted, so he does. He squeezes your breast, grinning wildly as he gives you one hard thrust. “Damn right,” he tells you, hearing your yelp before pounding fast.

You had always been quiet but he never quite saw you at a loss for words as you are now. Your mouth is completely open, your eyes threatening to roll back further, making sounds he’s sure you’ve never heard from yourself before. Have you even had it this fast? This big? This great? He knows it couldn’t be. And he’s the one who gets to show you. His eyes gloss over you with pride at the thought.

He grabs your chin to get you to look at him, “Who’s fucking you this good?”

You moan. You weren’t used to this. Your eyes roll back completely as he pounds into you with eye contact.

It makes him groan loudly, his jerks into you, letting out his own moan from the sight. “Oh fuck, baby. Don’t play with me.”

You give in, force yourself to speak, you can’t let this end. “You, Negan!”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes!” It’s so hard to speak, it comes out so pathetically.

“Who's making you feel like no one else?”

“You, Negan, it’s you!” Your moan turns into a pant, “It’s you, only you.”

He comes closer, his nose touches yours. His movements slow, but they don’t stop. He’s rocking into you now. “Only me?”

You don’t even think, “Who else? It's only you.”

His teeth sparkle, “Only me.”

“Only you, daddy.”

He laughs cockily, “So Daddy’s making you feel this good?”

“Yes, daddy. So good.”

You feel the groan he makes travel right to your clit, making it throb.

He kisses you, the corners of your lips to your cheek and neck and collarbones and back up again.

He restarts his pumping into you but his head remains close to yours. You decide to wrap one of your arms around his neck, pulling his hair, and the other hand travels down his back, holding him close.

Negan breathes you in, his head near the crux of your neck, hearing every little sweet sound you make that he’s never heard before. It all drives him wild, but then his eyes open. A question comes out that surprises you both: “Am I ruining your life right now?” He quietly asks.

“That doesn’t matter,” you say, breathing heavily from his touches, your eyes are still closed.

“I think it does.”

“You make me feel like no one ever has…” The bliss you feel from his current soft strokes and touches making it hard to speak, your voice is so light. “At least I got to experience it.” You open your eyes now, fingers tracing the cross drawn into his arm, “At least I got to see the real you.”

Your eyes say more than your words do. There’s a yearning and a sadness, an answer to what feels right in this moment, but an insight that there are doubts that could creep up later the more that you think about it.

“Just keep going,” you tell him, “I want to see you.”

You want to see him, you do see him. His head connects with yours again, and you moan into each other's mouths as he keeps pumping. Your legs come up to his hips and you’re not afraid to be loud anymore, to tell him how good it feels, how much you like him.

He takes your hands and places them over your head, crossing his fingers with your. It’s so pure, so lovely even when he’s going so hard down below. You hear your breaths heavy and your bodies slapping and the bed shaking.

You think about his skin, and his scratchy beard against yours, and the way you hate how he can make you smile by making the most ridiculous and raunchy jokes, and the way you love his voice, the way you can’t help but to like the way he cares for you.

“Negan,” you say weakly.

“Yes,” he responds intently.

“I’m gonna come,” you tell him. “I think I can.”

“Come for me,” he encourages, moving one of his hands down to rub your clit. “C’mon.”

“I’m gonna come,” you repeat, edging yourself on. Bucking up at his thrusts and his fingers.

“You can do it. Be a good girl. Do it for me.”

You swear the fireplace blazes louder and bigger, lighting up the whole room as you yell out, moaning once more as you orgasm.

Negan finally breaths out after, holding in for so long, and comes after you. His hands place themselves flat on the bed and he pushes in fast, riding out the high.

He scoops you up immediately, holding you in his arms. He doesn’t want to let go.

You two stay there for a moment until you look up. His hand caresses your face, “What is it?”

“I…” you were embarrassed to admit that you weren’t ready for it to all be over yet. “Can I ride you?”

A wiley smile appears on his face. He has to admit, he’s a little shocked you’re ready to go again, but he’d never turn it down. “Well, of course you can, babygirl.”

He flips you over, completely ready, but instantly, you become hesitant, almost overwhelmed. He was the world, not you, yet you were now above him. All the allowance to touch him anywhere you want at your disposal.

He puts his hands under his head, arms flexing. An ever wide smile present as he waits for you to begin. “You asked for it. Don’t get shy on me now.”

Your eyes grow excited again, deciding not to hold back, and you start to rock against him. You place you hands on his chest, feeling him up, touching his biceps, hands going over his tattoos— you could stare at them, at him, for hours. You honestly think you’d lick his whole body if he’d let you. And of course he probably would. To feel big and proud and irresistible while you look like a little desperate freak? You wouldn’t even have to ask him twice. Thinking about it and about how full his cock is making you feel, stretching and reaching all the right places, makes you moan and whine. You bucked your hips wildly, humming and giving him “mmms” because of how yummy it feels. You could do this forever.

“Ah- uh- Negan,” you moan and your stomach caves as you whine again and you hurl forward, continuing to rock but your pace is faltering. It’s becoming too hard and Negan can tell so he takes you by the hips, helping you move. First continuing to let your grind and then pushing you up and down his shaft so you can bounce on him. You push yourself up again, hand on his chest, pushing against it and you bounce along with his help. This was fun. You try to go faster and faster. It felt like being a kid on a playground.

“Open your eyes,” he demands. “Look at who you’re fucking, sweetheart.”

So you do, and moan at the sight of him, “Ohmygod,” you say. “You’re so handsome, Negan.”

He's so proud of you. Enjoying your actions, enjoying your noises. He groans as he sees your breast bounce and it makes you squeeze against him.

“Good girl,” he coos, “finally listening when you’re spoken to, about to make yourself come on daddy’s cock again.”

He starts to rub your clit again and you continue to bounce. It almost hurts because of how overstimulated you’ve become but you don’t tell him to stop. Your hands come to reach the headboard, helping you bounce harder. He tells you again how much of a good girl you are, how he loves that you’re not stopping, then he tells you how dirty and desperate you are for wanting him again after he already made you come. But he’s obsessed. This is all he’s ever wanted since the day he brought you here. His hands trail up from your hips to your waist and breast and back down again. There is nothing more he wants than to fuck you or for you fuck him.

You look down. You both notice your necklace still wrapped around your neck, almost nearing between your breasts, bouncing along with all of you. It reminds you of why you're here, why he gave it to you. It makes you have the realization he had… Was he ruining your life? Were you ruining your own? But how could you be when it all feels this good? It was completely screwed up, but everything felt so magnificently brilliant. His touch is everything, his voice is everything, his body is everything. It makes your hips stutter, it makes you moan, and at last, it makes you come again. You ride your high, going and going and going until you fall into his chest. His hands come to hold you tight thereafter.

Unthinkable bliss is all that is felt for a long moment… then… your head turns to the window. You remember what is out there and what isn’t in here.

A tear falls down your cheek and he realizes what’s happening when it falls onto his shoulder.

It hurts him now. To see you cry. It’s not fun anymore. You feel it, yes. You see what he saw, it’s true. But you aren’t really his wife. You’re nothing that is his at all. You both know that as well.

It takes you a long time to speak, you have to force yourself, but you do. “You have to let me go now.” You say it sternly but there is a sadness to it; a small part of you wants to not mean it even though you completely do, even though you do wish to stay here, to be enveloped by his embrace— you simply cannot forget.

“Mm,” he shakes his head, remaining leveled, “you know too much.”

“I barely know anything,” you say. “And not that anything I do know matters. Knowing the way around the Sanctuary isn’t going to help anyone when I know there is no way we could actually get in…. And what’s more important anyway is that I’m not changing my mind and you’re not either.”

“I’m not.”

“And I can’t. I wouldn’t. And they’re not going to. Never…. And if some of them die…” A whimper almost leaves you but you manage to swallow it, “I have to be by their side, Negan. I can’t only hear about it. I… I can’t see it next to you.”

His lips are pressed firm, his jaw is fixed and tight, almost like he’s grinding down on his teeth. The breath he takes through his nose could be a heavy sigh if he opened his mouth, but he doesn’t. He keeps it all in.

You words and their weight hang in the air for a moment before he finally speaks: “One of my guys that watches the armory doors has a shift that ends at 6:00 am… but at 5:50 I’m going to come up to him and tell him he gets off 10 minutes early that day, that I’ll wait for the next person to come.” He lets his words hang in the air for a moment, your confusion spirals before he keeps going. “It’ll be fucking weird, but he’ll look dumb as shit if he questions me, so he won’t. Then when he’s out of sight, I’ll leave. The next person is coming right at 6. That’s all you get. 10 minutes. A little less really.”

Your eyes round slowly as the stun continues to sink in. He’s… letting you leave.

“You take one gun and one knife. Just one. Don’t make it noticeable. I’m going to check. Then you go out of the back door that’s inside.” He didn’t have to tell you the way. “It should be easy, I know you’ve tried it before.”

You look down, taking in all he says, but then he turns you face to meet his, “If anyone sees you, I’m gonna have to make a show of it when they bring you back. Not what I want. But if I get there before you get out, maybe 5:58, just cause I’m an asshole, just to see you one last time… And if I do, I’m gonna turn you around and you’re stayin’. Fair?”

You nod. It’s small and light. You don’t question any of it, you can’t. “8 minutes.” You respond.

“8 minutes.” His voice is neutral, but underneath there was a tinge of solemnity to it. “8 minutes,” he says under his breath.

“What about now?”

“Now?” He asks. He didn’t think about it. He assumed you would want to go after this, after you got what you wanted. “Well,” he turns to his nightstand, “right now it’s half past 10.” He stares at you for a moment, you can’t tell what he’s thinking. This whole moment has felt so quiet, both eerie and gentle. You still weren’t used to the latter from him, even after what just happened. “You can go if you want. Sleep in your bed for one more night, or…” he stops, “You can stay with me, if you’d like.” His sigh is short and whispered but you both hear it, you feel its weight. “It’s your choice.”

You stare at each other for a moment. Your eyes trail all of his face and the arm that is still holding your own, adorned with all the tattoos and skin you had just fallen for. You wanted to study them and hold onto him forever. And his eyes: they said so much— there were so many little inflections, ones that you had finally read, and so many others you’ve yet to decipher. You desired to know him, but you had to go, so all you decided to do was to hold him. For now, you chose to stay, and hoped that your embrace would transfer the fact that the only reason it would be hard to leave is because of him and only him. You would remember this forever. “8 hours till 8.”

“8 hours till 8, kid.”

You close your eyes tight and nuzzle into his chest, A peace you had never known in the Sanctuary finally subsumed you. You feel free to finally tell him, “Thank you. I really do miss home.”

Home. There it is again. There was no malice in the way you said it, but there was still a pang from your melancholy words that made his heart throb. You missed home. And as peaceful as you looked, and as safely as you held onto him, your words reaffirmed that home was not here and it was not with him— no matter how you looked, and no matter the fact that you were allowing him to hold you for the night, to call you his. In the end, you were not.

He had to finally accept it.

“8 hours till 8,” are your last words until you finally drift to sleep. This would be your last and most tranquil night here. To you, it felt right, almost harmonious, albeit sad. This is how it was and how it was meant to be. You needed it.

But to him, it’s shattering. He doesn’t repeat the phrase back this time because, for once, he has nothing to say. The fire glow of the night has now withered into darkness.

You won.

He lost.

But both your hearts broke.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

As I Whisper in Your Ear, “I Wanna Fuckin’ Tear You Apart”

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Alexandria (at some point)

Summary: Just smut. Minimal plot. A hint of longing.

Warnings: Poorly written smut; dom/sub dynamics (both); choking (but not really - just don’t wanna trigger anyone)

You had learned the workings of Daryl’s mind long ago when your tryst had begun. You knew his boundaries, his desires.

And he knew yours.

Sliding his vest over his shoulders, you unbuttoned his shirt, his eyes on your hands as your fingers deftly worked. When he was bare from the waist up, you tapped the top of his boot with your bare toes. “Take them off.” You ordered whilst pulling your own shirt over your head.

Waiting for him to toss the boots aside, you pressed your chest against his, reveling in the feeling of his hot skin. His expression was unreadable as he bent forward to press his lips to yours. It was almost gentle, dangerously close to romantic.

Fuck that. Not today.

Today, you wanted rough and primal.

You gave him a shove and his back collided with the wall, inciting a grunt. Daryl straightened and opened his mouth, but you quickly countered, capturing his lips while raising a knee to grind against his groin. If it hurt, he didn’t say so. He caught his bottom lip between his teeth when you pulled away—just slightly—enough to fit a hand between the two of you.

His stomach muscles twitched as your fingers brushed over the skin and dipped into the waistline of his jeans. Daryl hissed when you took him in hand, gliding your soft palm over his heated skin once, twice. His hands glided up your sides and moved inward toward your chest, but you used your free hand to swat him away. “Behind your head.” You ordered, darting forward to take his left nipple between your teeth.

You continued to stroke him while soothing the pain from your bite with your tongue, trailing soft kisses up his collarbone, his neck, before coming to a stop by his ear. His hesitation was noticeable but eventually, he obeyed and interlocked his fingers behind his head. You stifled a chuckle when he grunted and closed his eyes in obvious restraint. “You know you like it when I tease you.” You emphasized by tightening your grip, delighting in the arch of his back and the breathy moan in your ear.

“Whatever ya say.” Daryl groaned when your tongue slid across his earlobe. There was a noise of protest when you released him and stepped back, tilting your head to admire the sight in front of you. The rugged survivor—the man who would jack a jaw at the slightest provocation and gut a walker with his bare hands—bare-chested with his hands behind his head. Sweat was glistening on his skin and you could see his desire for you straining against the dark denim of his jeans. His normally bright blue eyes had darkened with need and were watching your every movement.

“You’re beautiful.” You purred, reaching out so your fingertips could appreciate the twitching muscles of his abdomen. “Tell me what you want.” You pressed yourself against him again, pushing your thumbs into the waist of his jeans at each hip. You licked your lips and watched his trademark scowl capture his features. He leaned forward, brushing his lips against yours without claiming them.

“On your knees.”

You granted his request, dragging the last of his clothing down with you. He stepped out of the garments and kicked them to the side, looking down at you with renewed enthusiasm. You locked gazes with him as you took him into your mouth, an unbidden shiver wracking his frame. It was an instant reaction to bring his hand to your hair, twisting his fingers into your locks. He didn’t realize his mistake until your teeth grazed his sensitive skin. You pulled back and admonished him with a disappointed glare, shaking your head. “I didn’t say you could move your hands.”

You grinned smugly, moving painfully slowly into continuing your ministrations, enjoying looking up at Daryl’s frustrated expression. It was your guilty pleasure to dominate the gruff archer, watching him come apart at something as simple as your touch. It was absolutely maddening to hold that much power over a man like Daryl Dixon.

With a hum, you wrapped your fingers around the base of his length and squeezed, your lips engulfing him once more. There was a loud thud above you as your mouth chased your hand, and you looked up to find that he had slammed the back of his head against the wall. He had likely reached for you again but pulled back. When he growled through clenched teeth, you felt a surge of heat at the joining of your thighs. Sliding your mouth off, you flicked the tip with your tongue before standing.

“Daryl.” You pressed your lips to the front of his throat, smiling against his adam’s apple when he tilted his head, his hands remaining where you had ordered them. “Do you wanna touch me now?” He was still, looking down his nose at you.

“Ya know I do.” He all but whispered, voice shaking.

You hummed approvingly and reached around his head to wrap your fingers around his left wrist, tugging at his hand. “What else?” You nipped at his bottom lip as you guided his palm to your chest. He immediately caught your nipple between his fingers, kneading the sensitive bud between his knuckles. He brought his other hand down to rest on your hip, sensing he no longer needed to wait for your permission. You pushed yourself closer, trapping both his hand and his arousal between the two of you. You were kissing along his jaw and up to his ear when you grew impatient and bit down on the lobe so hard that you expected to taste blood. “What else?”

Daryl growled and released his hold on your breast. He grabbed your shoulder and spun you—somewhat roughly—to press your back against his chest. His arm snaked beneath your own, crossing your chest to hold you in place while his other hand traveled over your shoulder to wrap around your throat. He wasn’t hurting you—not past the point you enjoyed. “Anything I want.” He breathed. “An’ you’re gonna let me, ain’tcha?”

You moaned when his hand left your throat and slipped into your panties to cup the apex of your thighs.

“Cause ya like it.” He spoke in a forced whisper, low with dark promise. You thought you would cum from his voice alone. That was before he slid one finger past your slick folds, his palm stimulating you as he pumped in and out. Head dipping over your shoulder, he placed his lips on your pulse, licking and sucking with the intent to bruise.

You were panting now, pressing your head back against the front of his shoulder. You were certain he had left a mark on your neck that you’d have to explain later, but it was quickly forgotten at the feel of his teeth on the shell of your ear. You moaned loudly, grabbing at his wrist to slow his pace. “Nah.” He scolded, adding another finger and seemingly delighting in your quickened gasps. “Wantcha to scream.”

“Daryl.” You panted, feeling your climax nearing. “Daryl, the window’s open.” You were riding his fingers at this point, his steady breath against your ear driving you. The wet sounds of the moment only added to the debauchery you were certain all of Alexandria could hear.

“Guess they’ll know who’s makin’ ya feel so good then.” He chuckled, pressing the side of his thumb against your clit. “C’mon now. Scream.”

And scream, you did, grinding against his hand until you were too sensitive to even be touched. Before you could even catch your breath, he was tilting you to the side and bending to sweep an arm behind your knees. He carried you over to your bed and threw you down, your body bouncing on the soft surface before he used his knee to part your legs. The archer crawled up your body like a predator, dragging his tongue up your sternum whilst tearing your panties to discard them someplace neither of you currently cared about. You gripped his biceps, feeling the firm muscles flexing there as he held himself above you.

It was you to reach down and guide him to your entrance, biting your lip in anticipation. He didn’t wait. His hips surged forward to sheath himself inside your heat, giving you no time to adjust before he set a rhythm that brought your bodies crashing together. Any hope you had of remaining quiet was soon vanquished when he brought an arm down to hook behind your knee, pushing your leg up toward your shoulder. The move sent a wave of pleasure ripping through you.

“Fuck, right there!” You wouldn’t last much longer like this.

But he didn’t hold the position long. Sitting back on his knees, he pulled you up to meet him, capturing your lips. Seated on his lap with your legs wrapped around his waist, you rolled your hips, nearly tipping over the precipice when Daryl moaned into your mouth. Starting slow, you eventually set a pace that had his mouth hanging open, breaths coming in short gasps while his eyes were screwed shut. He held your hips with bruising force as your nails dragged over his ribs, leaving thin red lines in their wake.

Chewing your lip, you watched him eagerly. You had spent so many nights in his company; bandaging his wounds, talking him down, and attending to his primal needs. And then he would leave. He would always leave. And you wanted more tonight. You needed more.

But you could want and need forever and it would likely change nothing. So you focused on the moment instead.

Stilling your motions, you watched his eyes open, pupils blown wide. “Lie back.” You commanded, lifting yourself off him and waiting for him to move. He stared for a moment before finally obliging, shifting himself to lie back on the pillow. Throwing one leg across him to straddle his hips, you leaned forward to dip your tongue into the hollow at the base of his throat. Daryl keened, arching against you, but you rendered him still with a hand on his chest. “I’m gonna ride you until you can’t think straight.”

The way he looked at you in that moment—awed and hungry—sent a hot wave right between your thighs. You lifted yourself just enough to sink down onto him, starting a rhythm that was anything but slow. His hands alternated between gripping your hips and your thighs, his head thrown back and teeth bared. Looking down at him, you could see his muscles twitching, chest heaving, and you could feel his hands trembling. You yourself were beginning to shake, chasing after your own pleasure as well.

Daryl began to thrust upward to meet your movements, grinding into you and throwing you forward to grab the headboard. He was gasping as if he’d ran a marathon, movements stuttering. “Fuck!”

And that was enough to send you over the edge, painting where you were joined with your desire. Daryl let out a strangled cry and followed you, coming apart with your name on his lips. You rode him through the pulses and aftershocks before collapsing onto his chest. The two of you laid quiet and still for several minutes, regaining control and slowly drifting down from your individual highs.

Somehow, the moment felt right. It felt real.

Daryl interrupted the silence, clearing his throat. “I should go.” He gave you a gentle push, and you lifted off him to roll to the side, gathering the blankets up over you as if suddenly self-conscious.

Lying on your side, propped on your elbow, you watched him while he sat on the edge of the bed. Your claw marks stood out on his tanned sides. You were glad he couldn’t see your smug grin. The archer jerked his head to the side to pop his neck and began to stand. With no memory of granting permission to the action, your hand shot out to grab his wrist, leaving you just as shocked as him.

“Stay.” Your voice was so quiet that you wondered if he had even heard you.

Daryl looked over his shoulder and arched an eyebrow. “Stay? Stay here?” He squinted, that certain tick of his that told you he was mulling something over. You nodded, able to breathe again once all the sharpness had melted from his features. “A’ight.” He turned to put his legs back onto the bed, pulling up the portion of the blankets you offered to just above his hips. He laid on his back, one arm behind his head, and stared at the ceiling until his eyes slipped closed.

You remained on your side, watching him silently. Eventually, you moved one arm—only slightly—so that it touched the one not tucked under his head. He opened his eyes for a moment, but said nothing. He didn’t bristle at the contact as he used to, which told you that he was feeling the changes between the two of you as well.

You knew he’d be gone when you awoke, but your mind was still able to shut down and sleep soon came to claim you.

When the sun came up, you were beyond shocked to find he was still there. Awake and facing you with an unreadable expression.

“This okay?” He finally asked. There was a hint of vulnerability in his gaze, a confirmation that had your lips curving into the softest of smiles.

“Yeah.” You whispered, reaching out to brush his hair away from his face. “Yeah, it’s okay.”

[jadestwdd]

Okay y’all, hear me out…

So we all know that I don’t think Daryl Dixon is a dominant person during sex. But once in a while he will be a little bit dom. so here are a few things that think about daryl when it comes to intimacy and or close situations like it….

Warnings: SMUT SMUT AND SMUT

DOM: Daryl Dixon is a man who will be able to make you cum in seconds. So when he’s in the mood, he will be ready to take control of the situation and make you mould like potty in his hands. Every once in a while he will be in control. He likes to be VERRY close and sweet.

Example: when he is in this mood, he will will either make you cum until you are melting into the ground or mattress. He doesn’t like to call you a ‘slut’ or ‘whore’, he will praise you and talk you through it. He will say things like

‘Such a good girl…my girl…my good girl…’

‘almost there baby, you can do it…I know you can.’

‘One more time, just one more time…cum round my cock one more time…your doing so good baby girl…cum again for me…’

He is sweet and not mean. He also doesn’t like to be called daddy, like it’s just clear that he doesn’t like it. However…he may have a mommy kink….we’ll get into that later…..

SUB: Daryl Dixon loves to be a bottom, he likes to surrender and be made to feel like he’s small. Even though he doesn’t admit it, he loves it. After a long day and he’s really tired, we wants to make you feel good and he wants you to make him forget about what happened outside the four walls of your bedroom. He loves to be marked on his chest and thighs, like hickeys. (HE HATES ALMOST ANY TYPE OF PAIN), he’ll beg you to make sure everyone knows not to come and try hit on him because he knows he’s yours. He is also verry vocal as in he whimpers, grunts, moans and even cry’s… sometimes he’ll even beg you to make him cum.

Example:

‘Please…please…let me…I’m a good boy, ima…ima…’

He’ll trail off and start to whimper as you lift off of his oh so sensitive and overstimulated cock because he wouldn’t use his big boy words.

——

‘Ahhh…fuck….oh god….make me cum…h-hard….make me cum hard….i promise I’ll be on my…best behaviour…..’

——

When he’s about to cum, a few dozen times you’ve heard him say…mommy….

‘Daryl almost there sweetie, you can cum in a second baby boy…’

You sigh as you chase your high, but he can’t take it anymore. Like a switch, he jerks his hips up forward and…

‘Mommy~’

He moans as he spills inside of you.

Afterwards he is very embarrassed but you assure him it’s okay and you won’t talk about anything he doesn’t want to.

—-

KINKS: what kinks does he have? Well my friends it’s quiet clear that Daryl has a teeny mommy kink. It’s VERRY rare but once in a while you will use it to your advantage, you’ll get him to say ‘I’m sorry mommy’ or ‘mommy please…’ when he begs or does something wrong. He also likes a tiny bit of ownership…he likes everyone to know that you are his, aka he doesn’t want anyone else touching you and vise versa. He wants everyone to know he wants no one else but you. PRAIS!!! he loves to praise you when he is in control but he also likes to be called things like ‘good boy’ or whatever. Daryl is always up to try something new as in positions or toys. But he never likes to use whips or anything that can hurt you or him. MABIE he would bite your earlobe or neck a little but nothing that will actually hurt you. He loves vibratiors on you, he likes to make you squirm and squirt. You like to make him squirm underneath you as you hold the tip of the bullet to his cock.

BELLOW THE BELT AMD BODY HAIR: so Daryl Dixon is big!!!. When he’s soft he is around 6-7 inches and when he’s hard he’s 8-9… he is un-cut and his tip is verry sensitive. he also likes to trim up every few months just to he looks neat but he doesn’t shave if that makes sense? he has hairy legs obi and a few hairs between his eyebrows but not berry noticeable. He doesn’t give a shit about how much you shave? He doesn’t care if you shave or not. He also reassures you about you being insecure about if your smelly or dirty.

SCARS: if you have self harm scars, he will kiss them for hours, if you have stretch marks he will kiss them for hours and so on… the first time he let you see his scars, you where in the shower and he started crying, so you kissed his back and chest and arms, also leaving a couple hickeys there to. But after a while, he got used to you being okay with them so he would also wear no shirt around the house if he was in the mood.

PUBLIC AFFECTION: Daryl doesn’t really show much affection in public but he will sometimes hold your hand or let you lean on his shoulder. If he’s going out on a long run, you will kiss him but other than that he doesn’t really show any affection. he doesn’t like sex in public either, he wants those times to feel special and safe.

FAVE POSITIONS: he loves cowgirl, missionary, and you even tried the Amazon position once but he didn’t like it. He loves anything that makes you two feel close and safe.

RANDOM: Daryl definitely loves you to sit on his face. He sometimes likes to just sit in-front of you and hold a vibratior to you while you tease him with a nother one.

——

Thats saul-0-

PLEASE LEAVE REQUESTS FOR ANY FICS YOU WANT!!!!



[spinecouture]

nsfw alphabet — daryl dixon

a/n: all canon events cus i say so! very opinionated. yes, i am insane.

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

daryl isn’t exactly warm and cuddly. aftercare doesn’t come naturally to him. the first time you have sex, and you latch onto his arm, he sort of just freezes. he’s never had anyone who wanted to snuggle with him. he lets you, but he doesn’t really reciprocate. he’d do anything if you asked, sure, but it’s a process.

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

he loves your hips. little waist, hip dips, chunky thighs, tummy. it’s primal—he loves the little V pointing him directly to your cunt. an ass man, too, definitely. if your shorts ride up, oh, he’s melting.

he really doesn’t think about his own body a lot, but he knows he’s got nice arms. thick, muscly biceps, he loves the way you cling to them whenever you can. he likes being able to pick you up at a moments notice.

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

eats his own when he’s alone fs i don’t care. it’s easier than finding a towel and wiping it up. whatever, it’s protein, right?

but he doesn’t expect you to enjoy his cum. of course, you would, lapping it from his tip greedily and making him swoon. he secretly adores when you swallow, ‘so good, takin’ it all.’ the feeling of unloading in your mouth (or cunt) makes his knees wobbly.

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

daryl can be a sub little princess sometimes! he’d never ever admit it aloud, but if you praise him during sex, purring some ‘good boy,’ ohhh, he’s a goner. he loves when you take the lead, when you boss him around tellin’ him how you want it. you’d make fun of him, only to get shoved around for it later, because he’s still a dom at heart.

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

eh. he’s had sex, definitely, but he’s not a sex god by any means. he’s awkward, uncoordinated and hesitant unless he’s having sex with the same person consistently. even then, he’s not super experimental, constantly worried about hurting the other person. if you two are dating, he takes things slow and definitely doesn’t make the first move. he waits for you to start something, finding your pace and matching it.

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

cowgirlllllll all the way. he loooves seeing you on top, rolling those hips. if you have rolls, he’s all over it, squeezing and pawing at your soft skin. watching you bounce on his cock, seeing it bulge in your tummy has him reeling. that way, you have full control of how much you want, how fast you want it. he can finally relax, and let you take control. reverse cowgirl is hot, too, giving him a beautiful view of your ass as it wobbles atop him.

otherwise, doggy is a safe bet. you can always count on daryl to hold your hips the right way, hit it just so to make you melt.

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

definitely not a goofy man, but a flustered mess, yes. blushing profusely, grumbling little ‘shuddup’s when you tease. he’s not one to make jokes during intimacy, but it’s mostly because he’s too focused on the task at hand.

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

idk who said he’s well groomed but uh… that man does not own a razor. whatever hair he’s working with stays, and while you may convince him to shower regularly, he will not tame the bush (i like a hairy man, what can i say?). chest hair, armpit hair, back hair. god, he’s like a bear.

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

daryl is not a romantic, not a smooth talker, not a flirt. but if he loves someone, he isn’t going to have sex unless he can handle the emotional aspect. he’s not going to call you his baby, not going to whisper sweet nothings, but he’ll tell you he loves you. he’ll praise you, tell you you’re doing so well. maybe he’ll stroke your hair (before pulling it), or kiss your neck softly.

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

daryl doesn’t jerk it often. hell, he wouldn’t even think to do so unless he was falling for someone. when he finally admits to himself that he has a crush, it opens up a can of worms, and those worms are horny. i imagine he’d hold out until he was going mad, pressed against a tree in the woods or the side of a shed, fisting his cock trying to relieve himself quickly. he’s huffing and puffing, trying desperately to get rid of the arousal. i feel like he either can’t cum, or edges himself until he just falls apart. definitely struggles with shame afterwards, staring at his load sitting in the dirt, panting and sweating. if he can’t cum, oh god, he’s stiff and irritable for days. whining and close to tears as he jerks himself till it hurts, bucking his hips mindlessly.

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

daryl has a complex relationship with sex, i feel like that is obvious. he’s fairly vanilla. but if he’s comfortable, he may open up about some stuff he might be into. i don’t feel that he’s had a chance to explore a lot of those kinks, but he’s definitely stroked his dick thinking about them. he’d moan if his hair got pulled during sex, or if you claw at his back in missionary. primal stuff gets him going; sex is a very primal thing for him. he’d love to fuck your throat, despite hesitation and concern for your wellbeing. he’d need a lot of reassurance to really explore his kinks.

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

he’s not an exhibitionist, he’s not willing to do things in public, buuuuut!!! going back to the primal aspect of sex, doing it in the woods would be so hot to him, although he’d be hesitant. if you reassure him, he’ll fuck you anywhere, really. but against a tree, in the dirt, connected with nature, would get him going. otherwise, he’d love bending you over the couch, or the bed.

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

daryl is not interested in PDA, and is very stubborn about keeping sex to when you two have time alone. you won’t catch him getting hard during a supply run because you rubbed up against him (“knock it off!”). with that being said, what turns him on? domestic things. you’re washing dishes? he’s coming up behind you, nuzzling your neck. you’re cooking? let him paw under your apron. you could be sitting still, reading a book, and he’d get all hot. all he’d want for his lover is for them to be comfortable, healthy and safe. seeing you enjoying life would make him drool.

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

like i mentioned earlier, he isn’t into PDA, public sex. if you tried to make the moves on him in front if the group, he’d shove you off, ignore you. sex, love and romance is private for him. he wouldn’t ever hit you, he won’t tie you up or gag you. he’s been through that on his own, and he does not want to recreate it.

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

don’t get me started!!!! we all know daryl is a certified pussy muncher, eating you out with his whole body. he’s sloppy, drooling, slurping, sucking. he loves giving you head, doesn’t care if you haven’t showered, shaved, if you’re on your period. getting head is different, he’d be more hesitant to let you do it (“i wouldn’t put my mouth down there, why would i make you?”). once you did it, however, he’d be a total mess. whimpering, whining, struggling not to fuck your mouth. eventually, like i mentioned previously, he’d fall in love with throat-fucking you. once he found your limits, knew when to stop, how long to go for, he’d melt into it. of course, he’d only do it if you mentioned it. he’d be too nervous to ask for it.

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

daryl is slow and hesitant, cautious and mindful. of course, once he gets permission, he might lose it a little, fucking you hard and fast. he struggles with self control, which is why sex is so hard for him. i imagine during sex, daryl might turn into a sweaty wreck, begging for you to tell him if he’s hurting you. he holds back for your safety, because he’s a big man, very strong, he could very well break you. generally, he wants to make it last, to ensure you’re satisfied. he doesn’t need to cum, as long as you feel good.

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

again, daryl likes to make sex last, but time does not always call for that. if he’s comfortable enough, he may ask for a quickie, just to get some tension out. you might ask for one, and he’ll allow it if there’s time. it’s not his favorite thing, he’s pretty particular about when and where, but if he loves you, if he feels safe with you, he’ll do it.

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

eh. i feel like the most he’d do is screw in the woods. if not for the apocalypse, yeah, i’m sure he would. but daryl is too much of a survivalist to take a lot of risks. especially with someone he loves, he won’t put your life in jeopardy for sex.

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

oh boy!!! premature ejaculation daryl is canon per norman reedus himself, sooo… but! if he’s in a long-term relationship, stamina builds up, and he’ll go as long as he can to make you happy. he’ll torture himself if it means getting you off. overall, he’s not really down to go for hours and hours, he needs energy to protect his people, but he’ll do his best.

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

no!

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

hehe. he’s a major tease once he’s established a relationship with you. making little comments that he knows will rile you up, edging you until you cry. once he learns your boundaries, what makes you tick, whoo, you’re in for it. he loves toying with you, rubbing your sex until your squirming all messy and desperate. he’s constantly making fun of how needy you get, how bad you want it or how quick you cum.

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he’s quiet, for sure, but those feral grunts and groans escape his lips. he works hard, pounding into your tight holes with conviction. he’s sweating, huffing and puffing like a wild animal. he never gets real loud, always extremely self aware (unless you’re giving him head / rimming him, then he’s a whiney mess!!).

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

daryl’s first time trying something freaky was nerve-racking. he was shaking, constantly asking if you were okay. you kept saying, “daryl, i’m fine, you haven’t even done anything yet.” he was just so nervous, so scared to hurt you. all you had asked was for him to choke you during sex, and he could barely manage. once he sunk into your tight heat, you placed his fingers on your throat. he hesitated before he wrapped them around, squeezing gently. you had to guide him, reassuring him every five minutes. until he found a rhythm, got close, thrusting into you as you clenched around him. every time you moaned, begged for more, his hand tightened.

now, every time you ask for him to choke you, he will oblige. he loves hearing your wheezes and croaks as he squeezes your neck.

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

FINALLY!!!! daryl isn’t a monster, but mans is thick. call me a psycho idc, somewhere around 5-6 inches, cut, veiny, fat. untamed bush, do not test me. dad bod for sure, but we know he’s fit as hell.

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

daryl could go his whole life without sex. if he needs to cum, he can do it himself. once he’s in love, though, all he wants is to provide and protect. that includes pleasing you. he doesn’t have a high sex drive by any means, but if you’re home, pouting with those pretty eyes, how can he deny you?

z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

daryl is a snorer. he’ll try so hard to stay up, to keep you entertained after, but he works so hard, especially if you’re needy that night. coated in sweat and slick, he just passes out next to you.

[fanfics4all]

Tension

Request: Yes / No Ok ok ok first of all i am obsessed with your fics. Thank you sm for my other request it was amazing. So, this time :) Can you do a daryl dixon mutual pining but like angry sex. Dom daryl ofc. Like they have this unspoken thing going on between them and reader pisses him off so he kinda confesses his feelings in a smutty daryl way @madammarvellous-blog1

Don’t be shy, request things! <3 Have a nice day/night

Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader 

Word count: 1992

Warnings: SMUT!

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you! 

Masterlist 

If you enjoy my work, you could also show support by buying me a coffee! 

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

In the dimly lit confines of the abandoned building, everything felt electrified with tension. The air was thick with unspoken words and burning desire, and we constantly danced around that invisible wall that separated our true feelings and personas. I could feel the heat radiating off him as he glared at me, those stormy blue eyes sparkling with irritation. 

“What the hell do you think you were doin’? He growled, making my heart race. He’s always been dominating and assertive, the kind of man who didn’t just want me, but claim me. I rolled my eyes, trying to maintain my composure, but the tension was unmistakable. 

“I didn’t do anything, Daryl.” I shot back, my voice dripping with defiance. 

With one swift movement, he closed the distance between us, his presence overwhelming. It sent a shiver down my spine. His body pressed against mine and I could feel every hard muscle beneath his leather best. 

“You were reckless and could’ve gotten killed.” He hissed, breathing warm against my ear. 

“But I didn’t.” I smirked, pushing back against him, feigning innocence. I could see the flicker of raw desire in his eyes. He was losing control and he hated it. 

“Damn it!” He snarled, grabbing my wrists and pinning them against the wall above my head. 

“You think this is some fuckin’ game?” The heat from his body wrapped around me, and my breath hitched as anger and lust stirred within me. 

“That’s rich coming from you.” I scoffed. 

“You’re the one always bein’ reckless and shit.” He narrowed his eyes. 

“Better to be reckless than have a hot and cold personality.” His smirk faded from his lips, replaced by something so primal it made my body tremble. 

“You wanna know what’s cold, sweetheart? How long I’ve wanted you? How many nights I spent dreamin’ about tearing your clothes off and makin’ you scream my name.” He said, his eyes darkening. 

My heart raced as he slammed his lips onto mine, a blend of frustration and need. It was messy and breathless, tongues tangling in a passionate dance that ignited the flame burning in both of us. The taste of him was intoxication and I melted against him. Everything faded away but the way he was making me feel. 

“Tell me you want it.” He growled against my lips, his voice thick with need. 

“I want you.” I gasped. The last of his anger melted away, replaced by an overwhelming hunger. With a growl he lifted me effortlessly, my legs wrapping around his waist as he backed me against the wall, his body covering me completely. There was no more teasing, nor more attempting to drive each other mad. This was pure lust, raw and unfiltered.

“I’m gonna show you just how much I want you.” Daryl promised. His hands roamed possessively over my curves, squeezing and groping through my shirt. I let out a soft moan, arching into his touch as his hardness pressed against my core. 

“You’ve been teasin’ me for weeks.” He growled, nipping at my bottom lip. 

“Walkin’ ‘round in these damn shorts, flaunting this sexy body. You knew exactly what you were doin’, didn’t ya?” I bit my bottom lip, looking up at him through my lashes. 

“Maybe I just wanted to drive you crazy.” His eyes darkened even more than I thought possible. 

“Well, mission fuckin’ accomplished.” In one swift move, he ripped open my shirt, sending buttons flying. I whined at the cold air hitting my sensitive nipples. 

“Fuck, look at you…” He breathed, his large hands cupping my breasts, thumbs circling my pebbled nipples. 

“Gonna mark up this pretty skin, let everyone know you’re mine.” He ducked his head, dragging his tongue along the swell of my breast before drawing one nipple into his warm mouth. I tangled my fingers in his hair, holding him close as jolts of pleasure shot straight to my throbbing clit. 

“Please, Daryl… need you so bad…” I whispered, riding my hips against the bulge in his jeans. He released my nipple with a wet pop, smirking up at me. 

“Noy yet. Gotta make you beg for it like the needy little slut you are.” He kept me pinned with his body, reaching down and palming my ass, kneading it. 

“Beg me for it, baby, let me hear how badly you need my cock.” I let out a desperate whine as Daryl’s skilled fingers dug into the soft flesh of my ass. 

“Please, Daryl, need it so bad.” I begged shamelessly, too far gone to care about the desperation in my voice. 

“I’m yours, all yours! I need your big, hard cock stretching me open, filling me up until I can’t take it anymore!” He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down my spine. 

“That’s right, you’re mine now, and I’m gonna use this tight fuckin’ cunt however I want.” He punctuated his words with a sharp smack to my ass, the stinging pain blending deliciously with the pleasure. I yelped and writhed against him, my pussy clenching around nothing. He quickly ripped my shorts off but left my panties on. 

“Fuck, you’re drippin’ all over my cock like a good girl. Bet you look so pretty split open on my dick, tits bouncing as I pound into ya.” He captured my lips in a bruising kiss, swallowing my needy whimpers. His tongue pushed into my mouth, claiming me thoroughly. I moaned into the kiss, my hands fishing his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. 

“I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you.” He promised as he broke the kiss. 

“Once I’m done with this sweet pussy, ain’t no one gonna fuck you again.”  He pushed my panties aside and pushed into my slick folds. I cried out as his fingers found my swollen clit, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive nub. 

“Oh God, yes!” I moaned, my hips bucking wildly against his touch. He worked me mercilessly, his fingers pumping in and out of my clenching hole. My wetness smeared over his fingers, coating them. 

“Fuckin’ hell, you’re so wet.” He growled. 

“Such a dirty girl, gettin’ this turned on where anyone could walk in and see what a desperate slut you are for my cock.” I could only moan, lost in the haze of pleasure. 

“Please, Daryl, I need more.” I begged, my nails digging into his shoulders. 

“I need your big, fat cock splitting me open. Fuck me senseless. Want you to fill me up until dripping with your cum!” He smirked, wickedly, pulling his fingers from my dripping cunt. 

“Beg me for it, baby. Tell me how badly you need my cock.” His fingers trailed teasingly along my slit, barely dipping inside before pulling away. 

“Come on, slut. Beg me like you mean it. Tell me how much you need my cock wrecking this tight little pussy.” I whimpered and squirmed against the wall, desperate for more friction. 

“Please, Daryl, I need it so bad! I need your huge cock fucking me so deep I’ll feel you in my throat… ruin me, please fuck me like your personal fucktoy!” I begged. He chuckled, giving me ass another firm squeeze. 

“That’s more like it. Such a good little cock slut, ain’t ya? Can’t wait to stuff you full.” He reached down and unbuckled his belt, freeing his massive dick from his jeans. His thick and heavy head was already glistening with precum. I licked my lips hungrily eyeing his impressive length. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re huge.” I purred, reaching out to wrap my hand around his shaft. 

“Can’t wait to feel it splitting me open.” He groaned as my hand wrapped around his throbbing cock. I squeezed and stroked his impressive length. 

“Fuck, that’s it.” He moaned. 

“Gonna give this greedy little hole what it needs. Gonna fuck you raw, leavin’ you drippin’ with my cum.” He promised, grinding his cock between my folds. 

“Yes, please fuck me!” I whined, my voice echoing off the walls. Daryl’s massive cock prodded at my entrance, the thick head nudging insistently at my hole. I pushed back against him, trying to force his cock inside. 

“Please, Daryl, I need it!” I begged, tears of frustration falling down my face. His hips slammed forward and buried himself to the hilt. I screamed in pleasure, my pussy clenching around his thick length as he stretched me out. 

“SHit, this pussy was made for my dick… fits like a fuckin’ glove.” He set a brutal pace, pounding into me with reckless abandon. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the room, mixing with my moans and cries. 

“Take it, you filthy little slut! Fuckin’ take my cock!” He snarled, his fingers digging into my hips hard enough to leave bruises. 

My mind went blank. I was overwhelmed by the intense pleasure and pain of being so thoroughly claimed. All I could focus on with the delicious drag of his cock against my inner walls. The way he filled and stretched me so perfectly. I pushed back to meet his thrusts, my pussy greedily sucking him in with each snap of his hips. His thick cock drove into my tight cock with brutal force. 

“Fuck yeah, this pussy is mine.” He grunted, punctuation each word with a sharp thrust. 

“Gonna fuckin’ make you addicted to my cock.” I could only moan, my body surrendering to the relentless pounding. My pussy clenched around him, milking his length. 

“I’m yours!” I moaned. The wet squelching sounds filled the air, mixing with the slapping of his heavy balls against my clit. I could feel my orgasm building. 

“Please! I wanna cum on your cock!” I pleased desperately, my voice cracking with need. 

“Fill me up with your cum! I wanna feel you throbbing inside me when you blow your load!” His thrusts grew erratic, his cock piling and twitching inside me. 

“Gonna pump you full, fuckin’ breed this tight cunt. Make sure you’re carryin’ my cum.” He snarled, his grip on my hips tightening. With a guttural groan, Daryl buried himself to the hilt and exploded inside me. His thick cook erupts and floods my pussy with his cum. I screamed, feeling him cum triggered my own orgasm. He smashed his lips to mine to keep me quiet, my cunt spasming around him, milking him for every last drop as I shook in his grasp. 

Once we each calmed down from our orgasms, he set me down on my shaky legs. He looked down and my shirt and sighed. I looked down and giggled, there was no way I could go outside this building with a destroyed shirt. Daryl knelt and dug through his bag for a few moments, before standing back up and handing me one of his shirts. 

“You brought an extra shirt?” I asked, confused and he shrugged. 

“You don’t?” He asked and I rolled my eyes. 

“No, we weren’t supposed to be gone that long, just a day. Why would I bring a shirt?” He shrugged and shoved it into my arms. 

“Just fuckin’ put it on.” I laughed and took my broken shirt off before pulling his over my head. 

“Mind handing me the shorts you tossed somewhere?” He tossed them at me. I finished getting dressed and turned to find Daryl smirking at me. 

“What?” 

“You look good in my clothes.” He said and I blushed slightly. 

“You seriously blushin’ over that? I just fucked you against the wall and that makes you blush?” I narrowed my eyes at him. 

“Shut up! Man, you sure know how to ruin a good moment.” I grumbled, he pushed me against the wall once more. 

“Sorry, baby, I could always make it up to ya.” He smirked. He leaned down and captured my lips in a soft kiss. 

“Maybe later. The groups probably looking for us.” He groaned but nodded. 

“Fine, but I’m fuckin’ you again when we get back.” I laughed and shook my head. 

“Sure, baby.”

[actuallybean]

THE WALKING DEAD MASTERLIST

Last Updated: 5/14/2025

DARYL DIXON

One-Shots

Spoiled Rotton* You know exactly how to get under Daryl Dixon’s skin—and you love every second of it. But when your bratty games go too far, he shows you just how he handles a spoiled little tease like you. *Contains sexual material: Minors DNI. Rough sex, bratty reader, spanking, overstimulation, jealousy, possessiveness, age gap, minor degradation, mild choking (safe), dirty talk, emotional tension.

Series

Nothing at the moment!

Requests :)

Nothing at the moment!

RICK GRIMES

One-Shots

Pink Fuzzy Handcuffs* When you found the pink handcuffs, you didn't expect to end up using them on Alexandria's leader—or that he'd love it enough to risk getting caught. *Contains sexual material: Minors DNI. Age gap (early 20s reader, late 40s Rick), dom!Rick, handcuffs, oral (f receiving), rough sex, tenderness after dominance, light choking, dirty talk, praise, reader-in-control-of-consent dynamic, slight voyeuristic tension

Stolen Dance* He doesn’t smile much anymore, but when he’s near you, it almost happens. One night, one dance, and a stolen moment is all it takes to remind Rick what it feels like to want. *Contains sexual material: Minors DNI. Age Gap, Slow Burn, Emotional Tension, Possessive Rick, Dom!Rick, Intense Eye Contact, Soft Aftercare, Dirty Talk, Mutual Desperation, Post-Party Hookup, Reader Wears a Dress, Rick Is Feral

Series

Nothing at the moment!

Requests :)

Nothing at the moment!

NEGAN SMITH

One-Shots

Nothing at the moment!

Series

Nothing at the moment!

Requests :)

Nothing at the moment!

CARL GRIMES

One-Shots

Nothing at the moment!

Series

Nothing at the moment!

Requests :)

Nothing at the moment!

[dixonsgirl93]

Daryl Dixon as a Dominant would include:

(Everything mentioned is consensual)

(Also slight no-apocalypse AU mentioned)

Daryl Dixon would be a soft Dom.

He’d claim to hate brats and their attitude but secretly enjoy their energy.

When he’d reach his limit of receiving bratty behaviour, he’d growl “enough” and grab your throat as a warning.

He’d be a dry asf texter, preferring to talk on FaceTime or talk in person.

His dominance would hardly show over text. So much so that you don’t take him seriously which you end up being punished for later.

He’s not too rough with you, disliking most sadomasochistic acts, except a light spanking.

Aftercare would be amazing, he’d hold you in his arms for hours after, tending to anywhere you’d got sore.

He’d have Dominant’s guilt, again because he hates hurting you but knowing you enjoy it and having you reassure him all the time, makes it easier on him.

During regular activities, he likes to make sure you’re fed and looked after, wordlessly handing you food and giving you a stern look when it seems like you refuse it.

If he’s not cuddled up with you at night, he likes to stay close by, not wanting to risk anything happening to you while you’re asleep.

He’d encourage you to communicate any and all of your needs, whether he can meet them or not.

You would be his prince(ss). No one would treat you better and despite the fact he has trouble communicating and opening up, being with you and encouraging you to do it, encourages himself to do it more. Which makes him a better partner.

He talks about you and your relationship as if you’ve been together forever, as if you’re already married. When other people talk about you as a couple, they often say you’re like an old married couple.

Which leads him to casually mentioning marriage one day, wanting to know your thoughts before he made any plans (although he had already started making a ring for you).

When sitting together alone or in a meeting, he’d always put his hand in yours or on your thigh, the physical sensation of you keeps his head collected. If you’re here, you’re safe.

One thing he would often do, which you saw as a punishment, would be to refuse you certain things unless you drank water e.g. coffee, alcohol, sex, kiss etc.

He talks you through it, in his deep, gravelly, sexy voice and he loves it more by your reactions to it, smirking smugly and riling you up.

He says “use your words, prince/ss. Tell me what you want and how you want it. There’s a good girl/boy.”

[lady-phasma]

Happiness at the end of the world

Chapter 3 of ?

Daryl Dixon x OFC

Warnings: 18+ MDNI; this is really different than anything I have ever shared on Tumblr before - it's fluffy and has lots of feelings and quite a few warnings; Smut, Not Canon Compliant, PTSD, mentions of past SA, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Demisexual Daryl Dixon, p in v sex, ultra-Light Dom/sub

Summary a/n: I'm terrible at summaries, it's just more fluffy smutty stuff like chapter 2. No beta. 4.5k words.

Kristina scrubbed her eyes with her fists and squinted at the sun light. They had fallen asleep, possibly overslept. Thankfully neither of them had a run planned. Daryl might have work detail, she wasn’t sure, but she had the day off. He would probably need to take Dog out soon. She yawned as silently as she could manage, not wanting to wake Daryl yet. She was surprised to find she had fallen asleep naked. He was still wearing his jeans. He was barely snoring but the soft sound made her smile. She snuggled in close to his side. One of his arms was flung above his head, the other draped across his chest. She put her head close to his arm pit, indulging in the guilty pleasure of how wonderful he smelled, embarrassed even though only she knew. She thought she might not care if he did know, he would probably like that she liked it. She curled next to him, took a deep breath, and slipped her hand under his on his chest.

He stirred just a bit, one eye opening to assess the interruption, then he swept his arm down and crushed her into his side. She smiled against his skin. The illusion of being small with him would never get old. She let her mind wander and relished being here, in the moment, no urgency. She savored it. Her thoughts drifted through the sleepy fog of memories from the previous night. She was more satisfied than she had been in years. She watched his stomach as he breathed, the sunlight from the window highlighting a few scars and fine blond hairs. It took all of her willpower to resist the impulse to touch them, move her palm over and down his stomach. The waist of his jeans was low on his hips, revealing the darker hair just below his bellybutton. Of course she noticed the bulge in his jeans. Her mouth watered. She suspected it wasn’t a particularly comfortable way to sleep.

Her lazy thoughts drifted through things she would like to do with him, to him, back to their present arrangement, and then to coffee. It was a luxury she had long ago learned to live without but this morning felt so normal, so like before, that she could almost smell the dark roast in the French press. An impromptu fantasy formulated in her mind’s eye of a world without walkers, Daryl in her bed in her last apartment. Laying with him on a Saturday maybe, windows open to let in the cool spring morning air. The smell of him, coffee, clean sheets, and the anticipation of toothpaste combined into a snapshot that made her a little melancholy. She let the thought of toothpaste guide her back to the present and wondered if he had any. He probably did, he had the basics most of the time.

She wriggled from under his arm. When she started walking to the bathroom she was very aware of her nakedness but didn’t cover up, just in case he was awake enough to watch her. She smiled to herself as she searched the bathroom sink and medicine cabinet for toothpaste. Fuck yes, she thought, as she picked up a flat, rolled up, tiny tube of the stuff. She never knew she would love it, miss it, so much. With just the tiniest spot of it on her finger she scrubbed at her teeth. Her toothbrush was at her place. She took her time, it was a lovely feeling, then sipped some water from the faucet and rinsed. She breathed into her palm, sniffed, and was satisfied that most of the morning breath was gone.

Daryl had at least one eye on her as she stepped out of the bathroom. He tried to play possum but she saw his eyelids flutter. She leaned against the door frame. If he was pretending then he would be curious when he didn’t hear the expected footsteps approach or feel the dip in the mattress as she got back in bed. Ha! There it was again.

“Playin’ possum, huh?” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“Huh?” he opened his eyes slowly but his lips made a tight line as he suppressed a smile.

“Yeah that’s what I thought,” she walked toward the bed. She tossed the toothpaste at him. “I’ll pay you back what I used and find some more on my next run. That shit needs to be a priority unless some hippie around here can make us some from tree bark and dandelions or some shit.”

He scoff-laughed and picked up the tube from the bed. She knew him pretty well, knew he wouldn’t care if he had water or not. In a pinch just the paste would do and she didn’t want him out of bed just yet. She stood at the side of the bed as he pushed his toothpaste around his mouth. No one ever looked dignified “brushing” their teeth with their finger. She waited until he was done and held out her hand for the tube.

“Wha?” he asked.

“Gimme and I’ll take it back to the bathroom,” she answered, making a grabbing motion with her hand.

“Nah,” he said, tossing the tube on the floor. “Com’ere.”

She blushed while she hesitated. She had wanted his attention, that’s why she hadn’t put on clothes. However, Daryl’s attention was intense, she kept forgetting that.

He put his hand out to her but he remained laying down. She gingerly stepped onto the mattress, using his hand for balance. She was unsure where he wanted her so she stood, one foot on either side of his hips. She felt a bit like an Amazon and didn’t hate it. He slid his hand out of hers, letting each finger trail down hers. His eyes moved slowly over her. Just before she was about to sit down or run or sink into a hole in the floor, he sat up and slid his hands up both legs from her ankles, over her calves, and cupped her ass. Their communication was simple, silent queues, pressure with fingertips, glances with eyes. She loved it. Some combination of his signs instructed her to kneel, straddling him. She did.

She shivered. It wasn’t a cold morning at all but she felt like all the heat in the room was now only where their skin touched. His grip on her ass never faltered. This helped her get to her knees gracefully instead of the careless, unsexy way she probably would have done on her own. He also wouldn’t let her sit back on her heels. As much as he was learning her, she was learning him and she had not moved her hands from her sides since he let her hand go. She was looking at him, shivering a little, and struggling to think of anything other than her bare pussy spread open exactly how he wanted it. She blushed a deeper shade of pink.

“Mornin’,” he said. Before she could reply he moved both hands in tandem to cup her ass cheeks. She bit her bottom lip. Then his fingers began to move between her thighs. One hand held her thigh from behind, the other found her pussy.

“Ya get wet real fast, huh?” he grinned. She nodded, lower lip still pinched between her teeth.

“How come?” he asked.

“Uh, you, uh,” she mumbled and gulped and remembered she actually knew words. “You make me wet. Thinking about you, looking at you, smelling you…” She trailed off. His eyes had flashed a little at the last one.

“Mmmmhm,” he responded. Then he started to move his fingers. The sensation of being played with from behind while looking at him made her knees weak and her mouth dry.

He pulled her legs toward him, for better reach, but she lost her balance a bit and steadied herself with her hands on his shoulders. She was now straddling his lap, her stomach almost pressed against his. He looked at her and slowly shook his head. As soon as she understood she dropped her hands from his shoulders and made an apologetic face. His face was unreadable.

Then his fingers parted her lips and pressed against her clit. He stroked back the full length and then forward again, stopping to dip into her and then out quickly to circle her clit. He repeated the motion. God she was dripping wet. His hands were rough and felt amazing on her sensitive skin, on her swollen clit. She had never been stroked in quite this way before and found herself once again admiring his instincts.

“Oh Daryl,” she moaned. “Oh shit you feel so good.”

“Yeah, ya like that,” he growled. “Ya want me to make you come?”

“Fuck, please,” she begged. She had started to sway with his rhythm and her back arched to push her hips closer to him.

“Nah,” he said as he pulled his fingers out. Her eyes flew open at the sudden loss of stimulation. Before she could protest she watched him lick his fingers, tasting her, and she moaned.

His other hand still held her in place. Her breasts were nearly level with his mouth and he leaned forward sucking a nipple into his mouth. She squirmed and his grip on her thigh tightened. He placed his other hand on her side, high up on her ribs, and pulled her chest closer. She felt off-balance and unsteady. Every sensation from his mouth and hands on her tugged at her cunt with electric strings.

“Daryl, please,” she moaned.

“Please what?” he immediately put his mouth back on her nipple.

“Can I please touch you?” she whispered. She wasn’t afraid to ask but was unsure of the answer.

An mmhmm vibrated from his mouth through her nipple and straight to her clit. Her hands flew to his hair and grabbed fistfuls. Her hands roamed everywhere without thought. She caressed his neck and shoulders, his chest, arms, anything she could reach while remaining upright. She kept her eyes closed and made a mental map of him. He had given both nipples attention as well as the sensitive skin under her breasts. The sensory overload forced unintentional sounds from her.

He hands rested on his upper arms. She couldn’t get enough of his biceps flexing under her fingertips. She didn’t grip to steady herself, she didn’t need to.

His mouth moved away from her and his hands began to slide to her hips, his thumbs pressed hard in the hollow of her hip bones. He understood how much she enjoyed that almost immediately the night before. He gently pulled down on her hips so that she was sitting on his lap. Her knees ached but she cared with only a small sliver of her mind. His dick was so hard that she gasped when her pussy came to rest on the zipper of his jeans.

Kristina took advantage of the permission to touch him and slid her hands to the back of his neck. She held his gaze while she moved close enough to kiss him but stopped just out of reach. He leaned in to meet her lips and she pulled back, teasing, grinning a little. She enjoyed having his lips just out of reach, sharing his air, watching his expression change from control to something like pursuit. She darted out her tongue and licked his bottom lip. He was faster than her. He pressed his lips against hers and tugged at her bottom lip with his teeth. She moaned into his mouth as he released it. She wanted to learn every way he liked to be kissed, felt she could do that all day. She moaned again when he forced her mouth open with his tongue. He responded to her moans by gripping her hips and adjusting his.

His jeans were rough and delightful against her. She was almost sure they were soaked by now. She was aching and couldn’t imagine how he must feel. She wanted to make him feel everything, help him experience everything, she was impatient. As they kissed she moved her hands from his neck to his chest. She ran her fingers through the rough hair and avoided the scars she could remember with her eyes closed. She was learning as quickly as she could but sometimes part of learning was testing. She let her fingertips graze his nipple, her nails tracing the muscles of his pecs, and returned to his nipple. Each time she did, he moaned and slightly rolled his hips.

She didn’t want to be made to choose but this new information was intriguing so she pulled back from their kiss. She placed small, delicate kisses up the line of his jaw to his ear, and breathed hotly next to it. She increased the pressure of her fingers as she passed over his nipple again. Slowly, she told herself, don’t rush. She circled her other arm around his shoulder and pulled him closer. There was almost no space between them She loved this closeness. She got a bit braver and made gentle circles around his nipple. His short, quick breathes guided her. His head was in the curve of her neck and he was lazily sucking and kissing her neck and collarbone. She hummed, licked his earlobe, rolled her hips, and almost pinched at his nipple.

This was too much. Daryl grabbed her by the waist, moved her off his lap, and almost pushed her onto her back. He was hovering over her before her surprise had subsided. She giggled. She squirmed a bit, wiggling her hips and him, taunting him. Her giggles turned into quiet laughter at the look on his face. God it was endearing. It was a comical mix of delight and annoyance but with a trace of something like fear.

He began to smother her chest and stomach and hips with greedy, kisses, sucking and nibbling at times. Her laughter transformed into panting and moaning as he slipped a thigh between her legs. He ground the coarse denim against her as he kept kissing. When she felt his teeth she arched her back toward him, forcing her hips against his thigh. He groped and searched for her wrists while his kissing slowed. He brought them together in one hand and pinned them above her head. He raised up to do this and was looking down at her, hunger and need in his blue eyes.

Kristina defied him and raised her head to kiss his chest, reach her mouth almost a nipple. He pressed harder on her wrists, not painfully, and she dropped her head back on the pillow. She bit her lower lip in a challenge. He made a point to push his leg against her cunt as he moved off the bed. She knew better than to lower her arms. She had no idea what he was doing until he walked back into the room with one of his bandanas. He got back on the bed, straddling her. The cloth smelled of motorcycles and Daryl and earth as he wrapped it around her wrists. After he tied the knot he tugged on it and her arms moved but her wrists stayed together.

He looked at her. Just looked. She tried to make her face unreadable but the more she tried the hotter the blush felt. He got up from the mattress again. He assessed the scene and tapped the inside of one of her ankles. He was gentle but knew what he wanted. She spread her legs.

He nodded once, satisfied, and the rested a hand on the fly of his jeans. He held her gaze to ensure she was watching. He was insecure about almost everything about himself except his abilities to track and hunt. Only a day ago what he was doing now only existed in his imagination, nothing he could actually do. Kristina looked at him the way he looked at her. He wasn’t comfortable in his skin, might never be, but that seemed okay when he was with her. She didn’t expect him to be. Not that he thought she preferred he be some beat up mess but that it didn’t really matter to her or if it did at all it only made her enjoy him more. He always overthought, analyzed, tried to anticipate what would happen next. A survival skill he developed to dodge words and fists and pain. Last night he had moments when his brain took a break from the extra work, when his world was nothing but being wrapped up in her. He could do that as long as she would let him.

So with her he did things that scared him at first or made himself feel a little unhinged. He was sure her psychology shit had words for all that. The words didn’t matter to him. He just wanted to keep returning to that edge and finding out that he could go past it. And that he had someone who stood on the other side with her hand out, helping him. He rarely felt brave, he did what was necessary, but there was a small flicker of bravery when he pushed past the fear.

He watched as her eyes did what he wanted and followed his hand to his jeans. He cupped the bulge, pressed the zipper a little too hard against his dick, but the slight pain helped him focus. Once his jeans were unzipped his narrow hips couldn’t hold them up. He let them fall to the floor and stepped out of them. She licked her lips. He liked that a lot. He enjoyed being able to watch her shallow breathing in the sway of her breasts, how her belly rose and fell, close to panting.

He wrapped his hand around his dick and stroked, long, lazy strokes. Her eyes followed. He swiped the precum off the tip and she licked her lips again. Oh yeah? he thought. He leaned over the mattress and painted her bottom lip with it. Her eyes nearly closed as she slid her tongue out to taste it. Watching her enjoy that tugged at the base of his dick and he groaned through gritted teeth. He knelt down next to her, hand back on his aching dick, and licked at her nipples, her belly button, kissed her carefully above her pussy. He breathed in her smell. He wanted his mouth on her, to taste her, feel her with his tongue, almost as much as he wanted to fuck her. He had already moved his mouth away though. The very fucking last thing he ever wanted was to make her uncomfortable. He kissed her ribs, her arm pit, mostly to watch her squirm but also to learn all of her smells, kissed her elbow, and her curled fingers.

Her eyes narrowed as she watched him sit down beside her. He reached over and helped her sit up, her bound wrists making that action particularly difficult. Then he guided her over him while he lay back. She let herself be led. He positioned her straddling him, she was so easy to move like this, compliant, willing, but, most of all, enthusiastic about letting him take control. She sucked in a small gasp of air when he had her where he wanted. Her pussy rested on his lower stomach and his dick was hard against her ass.

He slid his hands in tandem over the insides of her thighs, let his thumbs brush her swollen lips, press into her hips, and continued up her sides, along her ribs, and then pulled her down onto him. Her arms relaxed with her wrists on the pillow just above his head. She felt almost weightless. The only part of her not supported by him were her knees. When he breathed she felt herself lifted with him, her breasts pressed hard into his chest. He placed a gentle kiss on her lips as he moved his hands to her ass. She liked being able to figure him out and not be too many steps behind. He wanted her to get used to letting him hold her up, feel safe.

Daryl kissed her cheek, her neck, her arm beside his head, and started to lift her ass. For a moment he knew it would be awkward and difficult for her but he had her. Having her lay on top of him was a wonderful feeling. For a brief flash he wished he could communicate that to her in words but then he focused on where his hands were. He had to strain just a little to reach behind her. He guided the tip of his dick into her hot, wet pussy, taking his time to brush against her clit before fully sliding in. Then he slowly pressed her hips down with his hands. She didn’t make a sound, she only breathed, her head tucked between them. Her breath was warm and almost damp on his chest.

He groaned enough for both of them. He adjusted his hips for a better angle and they both hitched in breaths. He didn’t know quite where to put his hands so he placed one on her lower back. When he brought his hips up he could keep her steady with that hand. She made a soft purring sound when he did that. He pulled out a little and slid back in, repeated, just to hear that sound again. His other hand searched her body as he rolled his hips. He wasn’t fucking her yet. He wanted to go slow as long as he could. When his fingers grazed the fold of her hip she twitched away from his hand but pressed her hips into his. He touched the side of her belly, she was so soft that he sighed, nothing in this world was soft anymore. He gently worked his hand between them, palm on her stomach, and circled her clit with a finger.

She pushed down onto his hand. She wasn’t in control of her body anymore. Her hips moved without her instruction, her arms were jelly beside his head, her mind was empty, and now every nerve in her body was either focused on her clit or his dick inside her. The slow, steady rhythm of his hips and finger were overwhelming. She wanted to grope and grab at something. Her hands clenched into fists. With her wrists bound she couldn’t touch anything. Her forehead was pressed hard into his chest and she was breathing her own recycled air in the space between them. He held her still with his hand on her back and couldn’t fuck him like every part of her ached to do. Panting, her eyes closed tight, she could feel her lips on his chest. Without thinking she bit. She knew it wasn’t hard, probably not even enough to bruise, but it was the only action her mind could find.

“Shit,” Daryl groaned, at first in surprise and then a wave of intense feeling ran from her mouth to his dick. His hips jerked as a reflex and she gasped. The place where she had bit him throbbed momentarily. He snatched his hand from between their bodies. He grabbed her with all of his strength and rolled them over. Kristina made a small oof sound and when he looked at her to make sure she was okay she was smiling. In one smooth motion he pinned her bound wrists above her head with one hand and swept one of her legs over his shoulder with the other.

He thrust deeper into her. He leaned into her leg as far as he felt he could without hurting her and put his mouth next to her ear.

“This what ya want woman?” he asked through gritted teeth, quickening his pace with shallower, faster thrusts. “Ya wanna be bad, that it?”

“Yes, oh god, yes Daryl,” she yelled. “Fuck!”

“Fine,” he growled as he lifted himself up enough to move his hand from her wrists. At first he gently slid his hand to her throat. She looked into his eyes and nodded. He squeezed and she rasped out a please. Just a bit more pressure and they found the sweet spot. Her breath was ragged and her eyes rolled back. He felt her leg wrap around him, pressing on his ass to push him deeper. His thrusts became more erratic as her muscles tightened around his dick.

He watched her face carefully as his orgasm started to tug at him. Her lips were parted, her eyes shut, and her cheeks flushed. She was so beautiful. Seeing his rough, tan hand around her pale throat nearly sent him over the edge. He didn’t pull back on his last thrust, he ground his hips against hers. He felt her groan in his hand before he heard it. Then he released her neck and her body rocked against him. Her muscles pulsed around his dick.

Her orgasm tore through her. She yelled his name and gasped. Loud, hitching breaths shook her chest. He let her leg slide off his shoulder, wrapped his arms around her, and buried his face in her breasts. His hips bucked against her. He felt her hands find his neck.The bandana strained against her movement. The sensation of the fabric on his skin made him moan a quiet, drawn-out fuck against her chest. He felt his cum pour into her. She wrapped her legs around him and held him as his entire body vibrated.

Kristina kissed the top of his head. She loved his smell and nuzzled her face into his hair for a moment longer. She felt his body relax on top of her. Her pulse pounded in her ears, her wrists, her cunt. His cum seeped out from between them before he pulled out. He slid his arms from underneath her and raised up to see her watching him. She held her bound wrists in front of her face. He didn’t think he had ever seen someone as beautiful as her in his life. He carefully pulled out of her with a small moan in his throat. He sat up and untied the bandana. He pressed his lips against each wrist. When he let her hands go she sat up and kissed him hard.

She flopped back down on the mattress, completely graceless. Daryl laid down beside her. She kissed his shoulder. It was so easy for them to forget what the world was like now. Walkers didn’t exist, they didn’t have to forage for toothpaste, potable water wasn’t a limited resource. Unfortunately this spell would break. They would have some daily tasks to do and normal human things to attend to but for a moment she enjoyed this small bubble of peace.

“Guess Dog’ll be needed some attention,” Daryl sighed. “Imma take him out and feed him. Ya want breakfast too?”

She smiled and nodded, her eyes half closed.

[b1eedthefreak]

my idea is soft, sweet, sappy, loving sex with daryl... pretty boy deserves it (top male reader) 🙏🏻🙏🏻

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. All You Deserve

⌇daryl dixon x m!reader

⌇summary: after a rough day, daryl finds himself in the arms of someone who sees right through him. he’s used to bruises, not tenderness, but you give him the kind of love he’s never had

⌇warnings: mlm smut, reader is a soft dom/top, emotional intimacy, gentle praise, slow, tender sex, touch starved Daryl,

⌇word count: ~4.4k

a/n okay this is the second time i’ve written for male reader i think it’s alright—i would love feedback on how my male readers enjoyed this :)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

❀ ⋆｡˚ ˚｡⋆❀

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The sun was just starting to dip beneath the horizon when the front door creaks open. You look up from the couch to see him, Daryl, dirt smudged, sweat drenched, shoulders heavy with more than just the day.

He steps in quietly, boots thudding against the floor. His vest hangs limp off his frame, and his hair clings to the sides of his face, damp and wild. His eyes are distant, like he never quite made it back from wherever he was.

You close the book in your lap and rise slowly. “Hey,” you say softly, just enough to anchor him.

He glances up, gives a small nod. “Hey.”

You cross the room without another word, arms open by the time you reach him. And he doesn’t fight it, he never really does with you. He lets you wrap him up, his forehead pressing into your neck, breath hitching in that quiet, involuntary way that tells you how hard he’s been holding it all in.

You run your hands over his back, gentle. “Long day?”

He nods again, murmuring against your skin, “Shit went sideways. Nothin’ too bad. Just… tired.”

You hum in understanding and press a kiss to his temple. “Then let me take care of you tonight.”

His body goes still.

Daryl’s never been good at accepting softness. Affection? Sure, in private. But the idea of being pampered, of being the one who gets held, kissed, cherished, that still makes him twitchy.

You feel it in the way his shoulders tense slightly beneath your palms. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with me,” he mutters, a little defensively.

You lean back, meeting his eyes. “Didn’t say there was. Just think you deserve to be looked after for once.”

He doesn’t answer, but his gaze softens, just a little. And when you reach for his hand, he lets you take it.

You lead him upstairs, slow and unhurried. The house is quiet, bathed in that warm gold of early evening. No danger, no noise. Just he soft hush of peace you both rarely get.

Once in the bedroom, you step behind him, hands slipping around his waist. You press a kiss to the base of his neck, and he shivers beneath your lips.

“Let me undress you,” you murmur, and he nods, breath shaky.

You take your time.

Each button undone is a moment to admire him, the curve of his shoulder, the faint tan lines, the trail of old scars and new ones. His shirt slips off, and you kiss a spot just above his heart. His hands twitch at his sides, unsure of where to go.

“You don’t have to do anything,” you tell him. “Just let go.”

His throat bobs with a swallow.

You kneel to remove his pants, kissing along the inside of his thighs as you go. His skin is warm beneath your lips, goosebumps rising in your wake. When he’s standing there in just his boxers, you reach up and slide them down slowly. He blushes, still not used to being seen.

But you look at him like he’s art.

“Beautiful,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his hipbone. “Every inch of you.”

He exhales shakily, voice cracking. “Don’t say shit like that.”

You rise to your feet, hand cupping his cheek. “Why not?”

“Ain’t true.”

You shake your head and kiss him, slow and deep, like you’re pouring the truth into him.

“It is. You’re beautiful, Daryl. Strong. Kind. Loyal. You don’t have to fight it, you can let yourself feel it. Just for tonight.”

He blinks up at you, his breath uneven. You lead him to the bed, laying him down gently. He looks up at you like he doesn’t know what he did to earn this.

You take your time undressing yourself, and when you climb into bed beside him, your body covers his like a blanket. You kiss him again, deeper now, your hands sliding down his sides, over his ribs, fingertips brushing every scar like they’re holy.

He gasps when your hand wraps around him, already half hard from just your touch. You stroke him slowly, eyes locked with his, murmuring soft praise between every breath.

“So fuckin’ handsome hen you’re like this.”

He whines low in his throat, face flushed, thighs trembling under you. “God…”

“You like that?” you whisper, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Being touched like this? Loved like this?”

He nods, eyes fluttering shut, and you press your forehead to his. “Then I’m gonna keep goin’, alright? Gonna make you feel real good.”

When you finally ease inside him, you’re holding his hand, his legs wrapped around your waist, your mouth trailing over his jaw, his neck, his chest. He gasps, body arching under you, and you still,eyes searching his face.

“You okay?”

He nods. “Yeah. Just—feels different.”

“Good different?”

“Yeah,” he whispers. “Real good.”

You move slowly, every thrust deep and steady. He clings to you, fingers digging into your back, eyes wide and overwhelmed.

You kiss him through it all. His forehead. His lips. His throat. You tell him he’s good, he’s loved, he’s safe.

“Ain’t nobody ever be so gentle t’me like this,” he says, voice breaking.

“I know,” you whisper, brushing your knuckles over his cheek. “But I will. Every time. As long as you let me.”

He breaks beneath you, quietly and beautifully, his orgasm hitting him with a soft cry and a desperate kiss. You hold him through it, thrusting a few more times before you follow, spilling deep inside him with a moan muffled against his skin.

Neither of you move for a long time.

You stay inside him, your arms locked around his body, your breath slow and even. He runs his fingers through your hair, lazy and tired, eyes closed but peaceful.

Eventually, you clean him up, tenderly, carefully, then pull the blankets up and draw him against your chest.

He lays there, head tucked beneath your chin, one leg draped over yours. For the first time in weeks, maybe months, his body is completely relaxed.

“You still think you don’t deserve this?” you murmur.

He exhales through his nose. “I dunno.”

You kiss the top of his head. “I do.”

A long pause. Then, quietly:

“…Thank you.”

You smile, holding him closer. “I love you.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

❀ ⋆｡˚ ˚｡⋆❀

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[theteasetwrites]

Healing Touch | Part 2

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader ❧ Era: Season 5 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: SMUT—bathtub sex (slippery, I know), handjob, fingering, missionary, str8 people sex, oral sex (m receiving), ball stuff (?), praise kink (!!!), dom(ish?) Daryl, language, mentions of injury ❧ Word Count: 9.1k

❧ Summary: Daryl returns for his follow-up appointment for his injuries, and this time, he's not leaving without the special treatment you so boldly promised him.

❧ A/N: Finally! I think this is my second most requested sequel, after Soft Spot (which I WILL make a part 3 for...). Sorry it took me like over a year to do this lol but I hope it was worth the wait! I simply had to write a smut piece for the sequel because the sexual tension was through the roof. I mean Daryl sported a big boner throughout the first one so... It was inevitable that this would happen. Also I realize Daryl might be slightly OOC here (I made him kind of more confident than I usually write him), but also, I feel like Daryl actually would get kind of confident once he gets in the mood. I mean he definitely does have his nervous moments here, but I like writing confident Daryl making the first move. Also I realize bathtub sex probably isn't all that great irl but a girl can dream ok? Plus any kind of sex with Daryl is amazing to think about, let's be real. Enjoy!

He could’ve changed the bandages himself, but maybe you wanted another excuse to touch him. Well, there was no maybe about it. That was your plan.

You wondered if maybe you’d been too bold by suggesting you could “help him out” the next time he got a hard-on, but then again, you took the opportunity to shoot your shot, and he still agreed to come to the office today and let you change his bandages. 

That night, you hadn’t been able to get to sleep for a few hours after settling into bed. Though you tried to clear your mind, you couldn’t shake the thoughts that had formed in your head since that day. Daryl’s body was beautiful to you, even if it had been covered in road rash from his crash. It only made you want to touch him more, to heal his wounds so he wouldn’t have to feel the burning of the dirt digging into his skin. 

Even as you touched yourself, fingertips getting more and more desperate and moving frantically towards pleasure, you thought about him. The comforting weight of his broad body on top of you, thrusting and panting and grunting and groaning and—

“Oh, Daryl…” Finally a wave of vibrations, a swell of bliss, a series of tiny, breathtaking shocks… “Yes… Yes…. Oh, yes!”

In the hazy images that played in your pounding head, you saw his half-lidded eyes blinking softly at you as his own body became overwhelmed with the release your body had granted him. With his thick, work-worn fingers tangled through your hair, he let out a grunt and sunk his head into your neck, where his open lips pursed to drag a sloppy, tongue-heavy kiss across your skin. 

The ghost of his body over you, you writhed in pleasure between sweat-soaked sheets. You swore you could hear the man’s gravelly whisper in your ear, the sound of your name on his lips, in his low, honeyed voice. 

You imagined him still inside you, keeping you warm and filled. Your fingers, though, were hardly an adequate substitute for the real thing. When you saw the “problem” growing in his underwear yesterday, you could just barely make out the length—substantial, and very tempting. Even his thickness made you instinctively swallow hard, with a nervous lip bite that nearly broke through the sensitive skin of your lips. 

Two fingers weren’t enough, so you’d tried for three, and that seemed to feel more like what you imagined he would, opening you up almost to the point of discomfort, but quickly soothing you the deeper he went, soon hitting a spot inside you that had your other hand tightly clawing at the bedsheet. 

Several minutes of straining, thrusting hard against the palm of your hand as the fingers inside you curled and pulsed impatiently. When the pressure became too much, you felt release again, and now, in your mind, Daryl nestled his head between your bare breasts, with hands pawing at the supple tissue. 

When his mouth moved to suction around your nipple, you imagined his sleepy bedroom eyes tilted back up at you, admiring your lips as they fell open, and a breathy moan escaped into the night air.

“Daryl…”

Sleep had so rudely interrupted your bliss, ripping you from the man’s embrace to plunge you into a restless, dreamless slumber. Perhaps it was for the best. After all, in your heart of hearts, you knew it couldn’t work out. Daryl was a patient, and you shouldn’t have been so forward with him, even if it was some kind of half-serious joke. 

Would he even come to the office the next day? 

You busied yourself with whatever tasks you could find—disinfecting the counter, reading up on Pete’s appointment notes, preparing prescriptions… 

Only a small handful of patients passed through. Little Nina came in with a scraped knee, Mr. Treneman had a routine checkup, and Ms. Sherman picked up a new inhaler for her asthma, but no Daryl. 

But he was across the street, watching the last patient leave the house. 

His teeth clamped down on his bottom lip, eyes narrowed as he tried to spot you. He felt like a pervert, standing there, waiting for his moment. 

Of course, he didn’t even know what his moment was. He could still hardly believe the things you said yesterday, and how he somehow flirted back. Whatever it was about you, it emboldened him, made him… confident. 

Well, as confident as he could be, considering most days he didn’t think much of himself at all. Still, you could ignite something in him, and he’d only felt a taste of it yesterday, with that small burst of confidence which promised you he’d return today, with the hopes of changing his bandages and cleaning his wounds once again.

Your touch hadn’t left him. Of course, the physical feeling wasn’t there, but the feeling you left inside him remained. There was a roaring fire in his belly when he saw you, and there was no quelling it. 

As he made his way across the street, hands anxiously stuffed in the pockets of his leather jacket, he made a promise to himself in his head: if he got… excited again, he wasn’t going to hide it. He was either going to wait for you to make a move, or make one himself. Either way, he was mentally preparing himself for rejection, but also… sex. Just in case.

When the bell on the door chimed delicately, signaling that someone was making their way into the doctor’s office, you straightened your back in your swivel chair, dropping your pencil to subconsciously fix your hair and smooth your plaid wool skirt. Looking at your oversized cable knit sweater, you pulled off a few cotton “fuzzies” as you cleared your throat before calling out, “Be right there!”

Please be Daryl, please be Daryl, please be Daryl, please be Daryl… The phrase was repeated like a mantra in your head. It was strange, though, because although you desperately wanted it to be Daryl, to see him and to take care of him again, another part of you was so nervous and embarrassed that you almost wished it was anyone but him. The man was doing things to you that turned your brain upside down and inside out. 

“Hi, Daryl.” The words slipped out a little too soon, a little too enthusiastically, but the moment you saw him, awkwardly loitering in the kitchen turned examination room, you couldn’t help but smile so wide that your cheeks began to ache. It was such a pleasant ache, though. Daryl was here, and that felt good. “What brings you in? Oh! The bandages.” You noticed that today he wore a jacket over his vest and button-up shirt. You were slightly disappointed, considering his arms were so… pleasing to you. But if you were going to change his bandages, he’d have to strip down again. Well, maybe you could have him strip a little more than he needed to. Maybe.

I’m a terrible nurse. 

“You got time?” he asked, not knowing what came over him. Indeed, he wanted to make sure you didn’t have any other patients after him, in case… Well, the air was thick and heavy with whatever tension there was between you two. It should’ve been obvious. He wanted you all to himself, however long that would take. Preferably, it would take a very, very long time. All the rest of the afternoon, into the night. That would be ideal. Daryl certainly had nothing on his schedule, having denied Aaron’s suggestion of taking the day to go on a recruiting mission, due to his minor motorcycle accident yesterday. It was the only time he’d ever milked an injury, just because he wanted to see you.

“Of course,” you said, turning to prepare another bowl of warm, soapy water. “I don’t have any other appointments. I’m off the clock in an hour… Well, there’s no clock.”

You turned back around to see Daryl sitting himself on the exam table, slowly removing his jacket as he let out a hiss of discomfort between his teeth. “Damn,” he said with a wince. Your breath faltered as you set down the bowl on the counter before coming to his aid, taking the other sleeve and gently pulling it off. 

“Poor thing,” you sighed, setting his jacket on a nearby coat hanger. When you returned to his side, you began stripping his vest, then his shirt. He watched you bite your lip, concentrating on undoing the buttons. He could’ve done it himself, but you wanted your hands as close to touching him as you could get. “How’s your head?”

It took him a few moments to register your words, as he was finding himself lost in the hue of your hair, the way it so beautifully framed your face. “It’s uh… It’s fine. Woke up with a bit of a headache, but I’m all right.”

You tilted your head and clicked your tongue. Even the thought of him with a headache made you want to wrap your arms around him and make all his pain go away. “It will go away,” you assured him. “You should really rest for the next few days. Have you been resting?”

Daryl didn’t get any sleep last night, none at all. Maybe he dozed off between thoughts of hearing your imagined voice whispering sweet nothings, your soft words settling on his ears like the delicate dewdrops on a flower’s petal in the haze of early morning. When the sun had risen, he took a walk outside the walls of Alexandria, trying to clear his mind, but all it did was remind him of how lonely he was, how much he wished someone was there with him.

Not just anyone, though. Just you, you and him together. Him holding your hand and keeping you within arm’s reach, safe and never in danger of the dead that roamed aimlessly outside. You’d smile as you told him about your day, all the things you did at the infirmary. Maybe he’d learn a thing or two about medicine, but mostly, he just wanted to hear your voice, to hear you speak about things he had hardly any grasp on. Just to see your face light up as you spoke about your work was enough to keep him interested. 

Love had never really occurred to him before as something available to him. It always seemed like something people talked about in movies, or something everyone else had but him. Now, with these feelings you had awakened in him, he couldn’t stop wondering about the possibility of it being real for him. 

As he trudged through meadows of sunkissed wildflowers, he found himself pondering, wondering what your favorite flower was. You seemed like a rose kind of girl… Blush pink with a dark green stem and red-tipped thorns. Maybe an innocent, sweet daisy on some days, but a fragrant, beautiful rose most days. 

Where the hell was he going to find a rose bush, though? 

“Daryl?” 

He shook his head and blinked hard as he removed himself from his thoughtless thoughts. “Didn’t sleep much at all last night,” he replied.

Though you meant to ask him why, you remembered the arousal in his jeans, and maybe that had something to do with it. “Well,” you sighed, and suddenly Daryl realized he no longer had a shirt on, “this shouldn’t take long, I’ll just change these bandages and then…” You trailed off, as you didn’t know what would come next. You certainly hoped for something… special, though maybe he’d forgotten about your less than subtle flirting yesterday. After all, he was slightly concussed. “Yeah.”

You went to work slowly unwrapping the gauze around his right arm, revealing the bright red rash spread all along the surface of his skin. That gravelly road must’ve done quite a number on the epidermis, and maybe it was the different lighting of the new day, but his rash almost seemed worse than yesterday. Squinting at the marred flesh, you spotted several tiny pieces of gravel and dirt that you hadn’t gotten out yesterday. 

It made your eyes shoot wide open. How could you be so neglectful? Of course, those pieces were very small, and it was inevitable that there would be some missed spots, but you should’ve been more careful. Maybe you were too busy letting your eyes roam over the defined muscles in his arm. You’d never seen any man with arms like that, deltoids so firm and triceps so distinctly separated from the biceps when he flexed. You could point out practically every little detail of them, even the brachioradialis and the flexor carpi radialis… 

“Oh, Daryl,” you sighed, and he had to admit, he’d thought about you uttering those words in a much different, more intimate setting. “I think I might need to do a deeper clean. There’s still dirt and gravel in there… Oh, I’m so sorry, Daryl. I should’ve done a better job.”

“Huh? It’s fine. A little dirt ain’t ever hurt nobody.” 

“But… It’s not fine.” You wrung out your washcloth in the bowl, then gently dragged it up and down his arm, trying to find the balance between scrubbing too hard and not hard enough. No matter how hard you tried, though, it seemed the more stubborn bits of dirt lodged in his skin refused to budge. You didn’t want to hurt him, though. If you scrubbed any harder, you might make the rash worse. 

He caught your worried expression, and eyed the guilt in your face. You felt horrible, like you’d neglected your duty as a nurse all because you were infatuated with your patient. If the world was anything like it used to be, you would’ve been fired. If you’d acted on your fantasies, you’d lose your license. 

Now Daryl felt for you, your worry permeating the air and translating into his own sympathy. “Hey,” he said, using his other hand to place it gently upon yours. The feeling stopped you from scrubbing, your hand and the washcloth underneath it frozen in place on his bicep. His strong, firm, warm bicep. 

You swallowed hard as your eyes met his. They were so kind, and so blue. It wasn’t an electric, vibrant blue, though, it was more like a subdued ocean blue, calming and deep. You didn’t even notice that your lips had split open slightly, agape in your awe of him. It didn’t help that his hand held yours so tightly now, and neither of you wanted to let go. 

“It’s okay,” he said. “I ain’t gonna sue you.”

You laughed under your breath at the idea. “Oh, thank God. Well, um… I think the best thing would be to soak these rashes in warm water for a while, loosen the dirt.”

“You mean like a bath?”

“Mhm… Would you, um… We have a bathtub here.”

Perhaps it was unspoken, but there was no doubt that you both had the same thing in mind. It had escalated so fast, and there soon became no other option for either of you. The mind is a powerful thing—it can convince you that the least practical solution is the best one.

Once again, you didn’t need to bathe him, and you knew you shouldn’t, but Daryl didn’t protest, and you only went with your gut, your instincts telling you that you needed to, quite simply, rid this man of his dirty old jeans and get him into a tub of hot, steamy water. 

You’d shown him briefly to the bathroom, then turned on the bath, putting your hand through the stream to test the temperature. It was hot, but just right. That comfortable, steamy heat. “I’ll be right back,” you said, voice shaky in slight disbelief of how things had escalated. “I’m just going to get you some towels and a washcloth.”

As you walked down the hall, retreating to the linen closet, you knew there was only one logical conclusion to this. Well, there was only one you were thinking of, and that was… You couldn’t even let yourself think of the words. There was no universe in which Daryl would need you to bathe him. He was perfectly capable of doing it himself, in his own home, without you scrubbing him. You’d taken this all too far, and you had no excuse this time.

Still, he hadn’t protested, hadn’t said anything about the proposition making him uncomfortable. He seemed happy to let you wash him, and he was. 

He was so happy that, once again, he couldn’t quite fight the urge he had been so desperately trying to hold back. As he undid his belt, watching the water rise in the bathtub in front of him, he chewed his lip, wondering if he’d stepped into a dream. 

As far as nudity went, he wasn’t too prudish. He valued his privacy, but you were, as you reminded him yesterday, a medical professional, and you’d seen it all. Plenty of nude men, he was sure. Granted, he was still self-conscious. At least a nice bath would soothe the pain of his rash that, he had to admit, was hard to bear. If you used your healing touch on his naked body, maybe he’d get more out of the experience than just another fantasy. 

But what if it became something real? How else is this going to end? he wondered. He needed to make his move, that was certain. Now or never.

His injured, aching leg caused him to hiss in pain as he pulled off the right pant leg of his jeans. When he kicked off his socks, he was completely naked, vulnerable. Still, somehow it felt right. At least he trusted you, though his interactions with you were limited. After this, he’d know you much more… intimately, he was sure. 

When you returned, a few bath towels and washcloths in your hands, your eyes widened to see Daryl sitting in the bathtub, the water now turned off and filled much higher. He sat with his legs tucked up to his chest, and his arms wrapped around his knees. Chewing his lip, he looked your way, then lowered himself a little, as if in embarrassment. 

“I, uh…”

You laughed and shook your head. “I told you,” you said. “It’s fine. I have seen plenty of men naked. In medical contexts, of course.” Setting the towels upon the counter, you turned to close the bathroom door. “When I was in college, I worked at an old folks’ home. I can’t tell you how many old men I’ve—” Catching yourself, you shook your head as you sat yourself on your knees beside the bathtub. 

Luckily for you, he smiled. A small, playful, lopsided smile. He’s so cute. “You callin’ me an old man, nurse?”

“No, no,” you replied nervously, laughing under your breath. At least he seemed rather easygoing. When you first saw Daryl, he seemed like he would rather be surrounded by a herd of walkers than talk to anyone. Little did you know, your charm had worked wonders on him, and even if he really was quite shy, since yesterday, it became clear that he could no longer resist you. “You’re not old.”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Why you bathin’ me then?”

Because I am a very, very bad nurse.

“Because you’re hurt,” you replied simply, but sincerely. As you soaked the washcloth in the bathwater, his gaze softened. You cared about him, you really did. Maybe you went a little overboard, but he didn’t care now. He knew he was in good hands, and if you wanted to take care of him in this way, who was he to stop you. Besides, if it meant getting your hands on him again, he was happy to oblige. “And yesterday, I didn’t take care of you as well as I could’ve. I need to make it up to you…” You trailed off, then cleared your throat. You felt his eyes on you as you wrung out the washcloth, water trickling back into the tub. “So you should let me really get this gravel out. I think I’d never forgive myself if you got an infection.”

You lifted your eyes to him again, and grabbed a hold of his right arm. Squinting, you tried to spot the stubborn dirt, and when you did, you raised your washcloth to his skin, and began scrubbing once again. 

“You, uh… You give all your patients baths?”

Your cheeks reddened as you cleared your throat. “N-no… I, um… No. Is this weird?”

He huffed and shook his head. At least he was still smiling. “Nah, just different. I mean, yeah, it’s a little weird, but after yesterday… Figure there ain’t many awkward situations left between us.”

“Hm, I haven’t given you an enema… Or a prostate exam… Or a colonoscopy. Do you need any of those done, too?”

Though you were joking, if he needed it… You’d do anything for that man. He was everything you wanted—attractive, funny, smart, brave… Well, you didn’t know him too well, but from what you’d seen, what you’d heard, what you’d known, you could tell he was a good man. 

“No, ma’am.”

The giggle you let out was heinously adorable. The way he called you “ma’am,” in that southern accent of his, with that gruff undertone and that wispy softness of his voice, it was too heavenly not to giggle at. It sent shivers up your spine.

And then his body, dotted with thousands of tiny water droplets, reddened by the steam of the hot water that surrounded him, soaked and soft and just so beautiful. He still kept his legs hugged to his chest, but soon you’d need to scrub there, too, as you knew he had a great deal of skin peeled off just above his right nipple. 

“Could you…” You gestured to his chest with your washcloth in hand. “I just need to get your chest wet.”

He loosened his legs until they were stretched out further, allowing access to his chest. You tried so hard not to look down, where his… penis—oh, God, you thought, his penis. 

Terrible. Absolutely terrible. You had no right to look down there, no right at all, but you did. Just for a second. A quick glance was all you needed. It was submerged in the steamy hot water, while his body lowered itself more. The squeak of his bare skin against the porcelain tub alerted you back to your task. Luckily, he didn’t seem to notice your stare. 

“Thank you,” you said, not quite sure of exactly where you were or what was happening. You eyed his chest now, focusing on the raw, red skin that expanded from his right side to his right pec. It looked so painful, like it must’ve stung so bad. Your heart skipped a beat, both from the idea of the pain he must’ve felt, and the fact that his broad, strong chest looked so enticing. 

Just as you’d never seen arms like his before, you’d never seen a chest or a pair of shoulders like his, either. Strong, wide, muscular… Even his collarbones tempted you, begging for kisses and your delicate finger to trace along them. Further down, his chest hair had caught little droplets of water, and soon, you were meticulously washing his chest, soaking it in hot water as you cleaned the wound. You hadn’t even noticed the time going by, having been so consumed by his body. 

As your stare got more intense, his eyes settled on your face, where you held your lower lip between your teeth. The sound of water trickling from the washcloth into the bath brought you back to your senses, and your eyes met his. 

Moments passed in idleness, until his lips curled into a half smile, and a breathy laugh emerged. “What’re ya lookin’ at?” he asked, though he knew he’d been looking first, watching your every move and wondering when he was going to make his. 

You cleared your throat and smiled back. It was a smile you couldn’t ignore, one that couldn’t be held back. Like the sun always rises in the morning, the crescent moon of your smile was inevitable. A face like his could send you into orbit, and the way he was looking at you… It was like someone had hung little stars in his eyes. Those pretty, gentle blue eyes, shrouded in darkness by deep brown locks that framed noble cheekbones. You always had a thing for brunettes with blue eyes. 

The question lingered in your ears. What’re ya lookin’ at? The most perfect man you’d ever seen. You couldn’t say that, of course. Well, you’d already broken every rule in the book, but you were determined to be a little more subtle.

“You have very pretty eyes,” you said with a shrug. “That’s all.”

He seemed confused by that. Indeed, no one had ever told him he had pretty eyes. All he knew was they were blue and sensitive, and he needed a good pair of sunglasses. “Pfft,” he scoffed. “Nah.”

“You do!” you exclaimed with a laugh. “And a nice face…” You trailed off, feeling yourself about ready to say, “and a very nice body,” but you didn’t thank God.

“You, uh… got a real nice face, too.”

“Thank you,” you laughed. “I… I really shouldn’t be doing any of this.”

He shook his head, and as you removed your hand and the washcloth from his chest, he quickly grabbed you, returning your hand, and keeping his above yours. He began to guide it, instructing it to keep washing him. “Keep goin’,” he said, his voice low and nearly a whisper, like what you’d heard so many times in your head last night, begging you to touch him. “Feels good when ya touch me.”

It felt so good that he knew what was coming… Down beneath the water, his cock strained and began to throb slightly, almost twitching. He could feel it rising, getting longer and harder with each circular movement of that warm, wet cloth on his aching skin. The unavoidable tingles along his shaft became concentrated at his tip, gradually reddening as blood pooled there. Veins became more prominent, bulging along the lengthening shaft. His instinct was to hide it, tuck his legs back into his chest in the hopes you wouldn’t see it, but another instinct was becoming stronger, and that was his need for you. 

Instead of hiding it, he guided your hand lower, now just above his navel. Your eyes widened almost innocently, but there was no real innocence inside you. It was pure lust, and at the sight of the little light brown hairs that led down from his belly to his cock, you forgot to breathe. 

“Daryl…” Your eyes followed his happy trail down to his swollen, hardening cock. Unabashedly now, you nearly salivated at the sight. So this is what he had tucked away in his boxer briefs yesterday. Impressive, thick length, with room to grow… You could think of a few ways to get him even harder. 

Though he tried to maintain his confidence, Daryl could never quite rid himself of his shyness. He looked away for a moment, clearing his throat, but keeping your hand just under his belly button. 

“I got that problem again,” he said lowly, his voice gravelly yet somehow breathy and sweet like honey. It entranced you. “Said you’d help me out… That offer still stand?”

As he lowered your hand down his pelvis, your shaky grip on the washcloth finally relented. It dropped into the water, and soon you felt a new type of flesh between your fingers. It was coated in a patch of tiny hairs, and his hand took you even further to the base of his cock, where his own fingers gently curled yours around the thick shaft. 

The heat of the hot, steamy water combined with his own pulsing body heat to warm you from your hand up to your chest, which was heaving with each heavy, nervous breath. 

His eyes grew soft, almost sleepy, but your touch was invigorating. Despite the utter relaxation in his face, inside there was a deep, demanding need to pull you in and use all his stamina to feel every sensation your body had to offer. He needed to explore every inch of you, every twist and turn of the inside of you. He’d bend his aching body every which way just to get every last angle of you. He wanted it all, everything, and that’s exactly what he’d give to you, too. 

With his question still lingering in the steamy, heady air, you swallowed hard, hoping to lubricate your dry throat enough to speak. “I—I… I really shouldn’t.”

“But I need it,” he said quietly, controlling your hand to slide it downwards, very, very slowly. Of course, you could’ve stopped him, as his touch was so gentle, so respectful, but you didn’t want to stop him. He felt so good between your fingers, and he really did need it. He was so hard, so swollen. You could feel the topography of his veins all along the shaft, each one so defined and practically pulsing. 

When he saw your face soften as you watched his hand instruct yours, he knew he’d struck a cord there. You wanted to take care of him, to help him. You wanted him to be safe and warm and healthy. It turned him on, far more than he anticipated. 

He needed a woman like you, to make him feel loved, to care for him even if he didn’t always care for himself. Of course, he’d care for you, too, and take you in his arms to keep you safe from a world that could take you from him at any second. There wasn’t any time in this world for waiting. There was a woman right in front of him, someone who was everything he could ever hope for. If you’d let him, he’d never let anything hurt you, and he’d always be there to show you the tenderness you deserved. 

“Daryl…” 

He never cared much for his name, until he heard you say it. The tone of your voice was breathy, almost begging. Every inch of your face was a reflection of your blissful confusion. As much as you hesitated, you knew you wanted him, too, and when his hand tugged on yours, forcing it to wrap around the tip of his cock, whatever strength you had in your arm faded away like the last strained breath trapped in your throat. 

Your sigh coincided with his as his strong, large hand put pressure over yours, squeezing around his swollen head. He moved your hand back towards the base of his cock, encouraging you to stroke him. He needed this more than he needed you to change his bandages or clean his wounds. He needed this kind of touch from you, not anything else. 

“Come on,” he huffed, leaning back slowly against the edge of the tub until his back lay against the white porcelain. He released his hand, but yours stayed put, coiled around his cock. It was a little harder now, and you couldn’t take your eyes off it, but when his hand pulled your chin so you could face him, you got lost in his eyes once more. “Please.”

His self-control was strong, and it was the only thing keeping him from rather abruptly lunging towards you and pulling your body into the tub with him, but you were wearing a rather fuzzy sweater, and getting it wet might’ve been an issue. Tearing it off would be the next best thing.

You leaned over the edge of the tub a little more, getting a better view of what you were doing. Just looking straight down at his hard cock under the water made a tingle surge between your legs. You leaned forward more, bringing your other hand to rest on the base as you stroked along his tip. His legs twitched slightly with every circle of your thumb, and though you were concentrating on your task, out of the corner of your eye, you saw his mouth drop as his eyes shut closed and his head fell back.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath.

He was so sensitive, more easily stimulated than the other men you’d been with. Maybe he hadn’t been touched in a long time, like you. “When was the last time?” you asked, your mouth moving faster than your thoughts. 

His heavy eyelids labored open, with slivers of silvery blue shining back at you. “Don’t even remember,” he said. His gaze drifted hazily downwards until he could watch your hand tug gently on his length. With his hands submerged in the water, he clenched his fists, trying to hold back his urges. He needed to savor the feeling, he knew that, but it was taking so much willpower not to get to know your body more intimately. 

You kneaded his cock with more pressure, now almost squeezing around the base and the tip with each pass. It was so long now, and thick with blood and swollen vessels that pumped his cock with arousal. It curved gently towards the end, leading you to wonder if he could reach some special spots inside of you. 

As it stood up higher, now poking out of the steamy water, you could get a better look at his testicles, which looked heavy and almost burdensome. He let out a hiss between clenched teeth when your other hand moved down beneath the water to gently massage them, moving your fingers tantalizingly slowly. 

Your touch became a slight squeeze, but it felt good. There was an ache there, where his body begged for release. He’d get it soon, if you kept touching him the way you were. 

“Is that good?” you asked, your voice softly quierving. You hadn’t touched a man like this in so long. It got you excited, too, as you found your thighs squeezing themselves together to try to satiate the tingling sensation between your legs. 

Daryl returned his heavy gaze to your face, where your lips were trembling in starvation for him and his affections. You could only think about dragging your mouth across his wide, heaving chest, painting it with your kisses and leaving love bites wherever you pleased. When he tilted his head side to side, it displayed his thick neck, the muscles and veins slightly bulging, the skin reddened and glossed over with a sheen of sweat. You’d leave a few heavy kisses there in the dreamscape of your mind. Well, you already had your hands in a very… intimate place, so maybe he’d let you get closer next. 

“Real good… Don’t stop.”

You wouldn’t dream of it. He felt so good in your hands, so hard and pulsing and begging and throbbing and—

Some moments later, with a low growl punctuating his sudden movement, he jolted forward, arms bursting open to envelope you and pull you forward. The bathwater splashed, some spilling out over the side of the tub, wettening your lap. 

His swift attack on your lips left you little time to think. He himself had forsaken thought, opting instead to ravish you much more spontaneously than he’d initially intended, but you held him, kissing him back, reciprocating his gesture by thrusting your tongue into his mouth and swirling it around his. 

Whimpering against his lips, you pulled away for just a moment, eagerly bringing your sweater up and over your head to reveal your bra. Without a moment’s hesitation, he tugged at the straps to pull the cups down, and you quickly undid the clasp on the back. 

“Get in here, girl,” he warned, his eyes dark and heavy as they gazed over your heaving breasts, your nipples hard and cold against the air. “Need ya to take care of me.”

You stood briefly to slide off your skirt and socks, followed by your underwear. “Are you sure?” you asked, despite your actions as you stepped into the tub, your feet on either side of his legs. “I mean… We shouldn’t.”

He reached his arms up as far as he could to grasp your hips, coercing you down until you knelt in the tub, knees and thighs submerged beside his. “Yeah, we should,” he said.

He couldn’t help but latch his lips to your nipple, sucking desperately at the hard tissue. “Oh…” you moaned under your breath. 

His tongue swirled and flicked wildly, his hands laced around your lower back to bring you even closer. You felt his cock against your mound, throbbing and twitching. Looking down, you watched it practically move on its own. “Your cock…” you panted, hardly even aware of your own voice and what it was saying. All you knew was that he needed you badly, and you needed him, too. 

His lips separated from your chest for a moment, his blue eyes dreamily looking up at you. “It’s hard for ya,” he said, and you swore you shivered under your skin with each pass his hands made up and down your sides. They rose up again to cup your breasts, massaging them, and giving them a squeeze which made you gasp. He smiled slightly, crooked and naughty. “You like it?”

You liked it too much for your own good. You weren’t ready for him, but you were in the perfect position to ride him, and it was so tempting. “Oh, yes… Daryl, you’re perfect.”

His cheeks blossomed with a pink hue. When you noticed, you laughed and cupped his face as you settled deeper onto his lap. “You’re blushing, tough guy.”

His arms wrapped around your back to pull you closer until your lips touched his. He pecked your lips, then your nose. His short, scruffy facial hair tickled you, making you giggle softly. You felt one of his arms loosen up, and his hand reached down between your bodies to guide his wet hard cock to your slit. 

You flinched and locked your hands around the back of his neck when the feeling of his tip grazing your clit sent shivers up into your belly. Your entrance tightened and contracted, already preparing for him. Letting go of his cock, he brought his hand up to your clit, putting pressure on the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

“Oh,” you whispered, letting your head slot into the crook of his shoulder. “That feels… Daryl, that feels so good.”

The sounds of the water became more boisterous as his hand moved faster, harder, increasing the pressure. Your knees dug into the hard porcelain surface of the bathtub, but it was impossible to feel any discomfort when the tightening and tingling started to overtake you. 

With his cock tucked firmly between your folds, he maneuvered you slightly to get the tip at the entrance, where it tickled your sensitive flesh. You couldn’t help but rub yourself harder against his firm hand, sending ripples through the water. 

One of his hands came to the back of your head, gently pulling your loose hair to lift your face from his shoulder. “Pretty girl,” he said, leaning forward to kiss your lips. His hand still moved, with one thick finger sinking slowly into you. “I wanna fuck you so bad.”

He slipped another finger in, and it felt like Heaven. If his fingers felt this good, you couldn’t even imagine what his cock would feel like. “Please,” you begged, lips trembling against his. “I’d let you do anything to me.”

“Mm,” he hummed with a smile. His fingers dug a little deeper, curling up inside of you as his thumb drew tight, hard circles over your clit. You threw your head back, moaning so loud that your voice echoed slightly in the spacious bathroom. “I wanna do all kinds of things to ya… Dirty things.”

He leaned forward to catch your nipple with his lips again, this time biting down gently, causing you to yelp and giggle. “Daryl!” This was a side of him you’d never known before, of course. It was strange to see his confidence reach such a new height. All you knew of him previously was that he was the shy, mysterious, slightly grumpy archer of Rick’s group. They were new in town, and most people were a little scared of them, but something about Daryl was comforting to you. His presence in Alexandria didn’t frighten you at all, really. It made you feel safe, and many other things, too. 

Water nearly splashed over the side of the tub as he pulled his hand out of you and firmly grabbed your bottom. “Why don’t ya put it in?” he asked. “Nice and deep.”

You missed his fingers inside you, so surely his cock would be the best replacement. You grabbed a hold of his cock, angling it towards your opening. Of course, you didn’t take it in right away, instead opting to use his tip to tease your clit. 

His fingers dug into your bottom as he let out a hiss between his teeth. “Fuck.”

You circled your hips over his cock, then lowered yourself, his tip now just breaching the entrance. “Ooo…”

The hot water felt so good flowing into you with his cock, warming you up from the inside. He could feel every ridge and curve of your body enveloping him. Soft, pulsing flesh massaged his cock with each movement you made to get him as deep as you could get him. 

When he was all the way inside you, you leaned forward slowly, your chest pressed against his as you lay there for a moment, eyes closed in pure bliss. Being filled by him was unlike any other sensation. 

You felt his strong arms wrap right around your back as he, too, shut his eyes. The pain he’d experienced from yesterday was all gone now. The warm embrace of you and the water surrounding him seemed to heal him more than any ointment or bandages could. 

Despite the pure beauty of that moment, he needed you to move, to let him prove to you just how much he had really needed you. 

“Come on, angel,” he mumbled against your cheek before leaving a wet, sloppy kiss there. “Take me for a ride, huh?”

You laughed. “What if I slip?” 

He tightened his grip around you even more. “Won’t let ya.”

You believed him. 

You straightened your back, placing your hands on his shoulders so you’d have something to hang onto, and, boy, were those shoulders wide and strong, with those adorable smatterings of freckles that charmed you so. You pressed several kisses to them as you rocked your hips back and forth, slowly but surely.

“I love your body,” you said between kisses. “These shoulders… Your arms… You’re so big and strong.”

His breath got caught in his throat when you began to rock faster, now simultaneously gyrating your hips, round and round. “Fuck, (Y/N)…”

Every movement you made drew you closer to release, with your throbbing, sensitive clit rubbing against his pelvis, which he moved against yours.

“Baby…” you moaned like prayer.

He’d never been called that before. He liked it, so much so that he used his strong grip on your hips to manually bounce you on his cock, with his eyes lowered to watch as the water splashed where your bodies met. 

Your toes were curled forward, trying to keep you steady. When they lost their grip, your knees slipped on the submerged porcelain surface. “Whoa!” you cried out, your forehead planting itself square in the middle of his chest. 

He flinched and sat up a little straighter, still inside you. “You okay?”

You raised your head with a boisterous laugh, and, instead of answering, cupped his cheeks to kiss him. Your weight made him sink back down, and your continued movements had him groaning deep into your mouth. 

You thrusted harder, now on the brink of orgasm. Lifting your lips from his for just a moment, you uttered the phrase, “I’m going to come.”

That sent a shiver of excitement through his cock. “Good girl,” he said. “Come all over me… Wanna feel it.”

You nodded frantically as you panted, now aggressively rubbing your clit on his pelvis as his cock simultaneously tickled you in just the right place. “Oh, God,” you sighed, your face straining as you worked so hard to feel your release. “I’m almost there, baby…”

He thrusted up into you as much as he could in his position, and more water seemed to splash all over, some pouring over the edge and surely pooling on the tile floor, but all that mattered to him was your pleasure. 

You grasped harder onto his shoulders, your eyes now closed as your breasts bounced with each hard thrust. He could feel the twitches of your walls becoming more and more intense, and soon he’d come, too, if you kept squeezing him like that. 

“Oh! Oh!”

“Come on, sweetheart.”

His honeyed voice was the last straw. The proverbial string inside your belly snapped, and a cascade of heavenly pulses erupted from your clit. You twitched and writhed on top of him, at first frantically, but soon your body fell into a natural rhythm as you rode him and your high. 

“God,” you sighed through agape lips. “Oh, shit…”

It lasted so incredibly long, allowing you to languidly sway with the current of the water as it settled down. Daryl’s body had stopped moving, but his hands were delicately caressing your sides, the rough calluses on his fingers tickling your soft skin every once in a while. His hands settled on the sides of your cheeks where he brushed your hair back behind your ears. With heavy eyelids, you looked back down at him and smiled wide, deliriously happy. 

“Feel good, pretty girl?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, your voice high-pitched and a bit dazed. Indeed, you felt a little bit lightheaded from the experience. It was the best orgasm you’d ever had, and now that you were looking back at him, that dreamy, mysterious man you’d fantasized about for so long, you were even more dumbstruck. 

“C’mere.”

He pulled you back down until your chest was pressed up against his, and your lips were receiving a passionate massage as his hands laced through your damp hair. His tongue traced around your lips as you smiled deliriously. “Ain’t done yet,” he said, nodding his head as his nose rubbed yours. “Scoot back.”

He helped you off his lap until he could stand, his body dripping with water as he did so. You were a little confused, watching him step out of the tub. Still, he was hard, throbbing, and red. You knew he couldn’t be done with you just yet. 

“Daryl?” you asked, a slight whine to your voice. “Baby?”

He grabbed a towel to quickly dry off his legs, then threw it aside. “I ain’t leavin’.” He stepped forward til his knees hit the edge of the tub. His hands came to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair once again. There was pressure to his touch as he pulled your head forward, and you realized now that you were in the perfect position. “You got such a pretty mouth,” he said. “Can ya finish me with it?” You nodded, of course. You’d be honored, and he was so ready to come for you, with clear liquid beginning to drip from his tip, and it definitely wasn’t water. 

With one hand moving up the base of his shaft, and the other cupping his heavy testicles, you brought your lips to his tip, where you left a long, sweet kiss. Even that seemed to make his cock twitch, and a soft, yet deep, moan escaped from his lips. Your touch was so tender and sweet, and your soft, pillowy lips engulfing his tip was just so heavenly. 

The deeper he entered your mouth, the more saliva pooled at the tip of your tongue, coating his shaft with every movement as you slid him back and forth with your hand. Each prominent vein bulged in your mouth, with the salty taste of the clear liquid on your tongue. 

From his perspective, he adored how you looked with his cock in your mouth, how your lips pursed and your tongue stuck out to cushion the underside of his shaft as he went in, pulling out a little, then going back as far as you could take him without gagging. He didn’t want you to gag, or to hurt you at all. He just wanted to feel every part of your body in the most intimate way. 

You pulled him out for a moment, taking the opportunity to place playful, sweet kisses along his shaft as your eyelashes fluttered up at him. He looked so beautiful in his pleasure, his head tilted back with his eyes shut and lips agape, a deep, sexy moan escaping when you suctioned your lips to one testicle. They were quite big, so only one could fit at a time. 

“Ah, fuck,” he cursed under his breath. “Just like that, sweetheart.”

You returned to his tip after leaving another trail of kisses on the underside, and a few extras on his reddened, leaking head. “Am I doing good, baby?” you asked. You found that you quite liked his praise, and that his tendency to call you a “good girl” was something you’d have to try extra hard to elicit. “Am I being a good girl for you?”

“Mmm,” he hummed with that sexy crooked smile of his. “Such a good girl… Doin’ so good with my cock.”

Well, you thought, I am a medical professional. 

But your tongue was unable to speak as you swirled circles around his tip, messily dripping saliva all over your breasts as they hung over the edge of the tub. 

Just before you could open your mouth to take him again, he pulled back, his hand now stroking himself as his soaking wet chest heaved and his cock throbbed harder. “I’m gonna come,” he said. “Where do ya want it, nurse?”

You laughed as you straightened your back, jutting out your breasts. “My chest, please.”

Something in the way you said “please,” with your perky breasts and cold, hard nipples right in front of him, made him let loose. 

He let out the loudest, deepest moan yet as his semen spilled over you, caught by your breasts. Your heavy eyes watched in lustful fascination at the display, and it seemed the white strings would never stop coming from the tip of his cock. He had so much that once he’d drenched your breasts, you brought your tongue to his head for the last spurts to be caught in your open mouth. 

“Good girl,” he praised again, noticing how much you liked it. As you swallowed the last drops, you were quite suddenly picked up, with his hands lifting you by your underarms until he had you in his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist as he carried you with a series of strained grunts. 

“Daryl!” you laughed, wide-eyed and slightly terrified he’d drop you. “Where are you taking me?”

“There a bed around here?” he asked, hoisting you up so he wouldn’t lose his grip. He immediately regretted not asking where the bedroom was before picking you up, as he now stood naked, wet, and carrying Alexandria’s naked, wet nurse (who was also covered in his bodily fluids, mind you). 

“The door to your left,” you laughed, clinging to his shoulders for dear life. “Don’t you drop me!”

He kicked the door open, then nearly sprinted to the bed, dropping you and himself on the soft mattress. You laughed as he frantically covered you both with the bedsheets and blankets, but the laughter died down when he bundled you up, rubbing your arms outside the blanket as he tried to warm you. 

“Are ya cold?”

“No,” you said, shaking your head with a smile as you looked up at him, marveling at his beautifully rugged face. “Quite warm… What about you? Are you comfortable?” You unwrapped your hands from the bundle he put you in, raising them to rub up and down his pecs when you noticed his rash. “Oh, Daryl! You need ointment on your rashes.” You began to sit up, planning on running downstairs to fetch the burn treatment, but Daryl’s arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you back into him. 

“Nah,” he said, a hint of a laugh coating his gruff southern accent. “All I need is you, ain’t no pain if I’m holdin’ you.”

“Oh…” You bit your lip as you rocked your shoulders, flattered and giddy. “Well, then I’m not going anywhere.”

“That’s right,” he replied, tucking you back under the covers, being sure that you were snug and warm before he kissed you. You trapped him in your kiss by wrapping your arm around his neck, pulling him deeper. Your tongue slipped into his mouth to greet his, and they swirled around for a while, dancing so playfully. 

Your feet found his beneath the covers, so you flexed your toes to tickle him, causing him to laugh into your mouth and nearly bite your tongue. “Hey,” he said as he pulled away. 

“What?” you laughed. 

He shook his head before diving back down to kiss just above your collarbone, where he licked and sucked at the skin. “Nothin’...”

“You’re easily distracted,” you laughed, watching him move to your shoulder with his tongue.

“Mm,” he hummed against your shoulder. “And you’re a sweet thing… Like to keep you.”

“Well, I’m yours.”

“Yeah?” he asked, his face turning a little serious. 

You tilted your head with playfully narrowed eyes. “You think I have sex in a bathtub with every patient, Daryl?”

He chewed his bottom lip before leaning in to kiss your lips once again. “No, just… Don’t wanna mess this up by assumin’ nothin’.”

“I’d be crazy not to be yours.” Your hand lifted to brush through his messy, dampened hair. It was a little darker from the water, but still a lovely ashy chestnut brown, which complimented his sparkling blue-grey eyes just perfectly. “And I think you need me around. To tend to you… ailments.” 

Indeed, you became Daryl’s personal nurse at times, patching him up when he inevitably got himself hurt in some sort of heroic escapade, or, more commonly, when he picked something up the wrong way and injured his back. In any case, you were more than happy to take care of him, and it helped that you soon moved in together, and that Daryl’s appointments often had… happy endings (if he wasn’t too injured, of course).

~

Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments of any kind are always appreciated!

Masterlist

Part 1

[89lana]

Daryl Dixon Fanfic 2.

After I received quite a lot of encouragement for my first fanfic here and the translation app also seems to work quite well, I'll

follow up with a second one right away.

Admittedly, I still have to deal with the technology. How to upload the stories here so that the whole text doesn't appear right away. But maybe one of you can help me with that.

Until then, happy reading.

Warning: 18+, Dom. detailed sex. Daryl Dixon x Fem.Reader

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.--.-.-..-.-.-.-.- .-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.- .-.-

Take your time

slowly and with relish licked his tongue over his lower lip and left a fleeting wet trace on it. How long has he been sitting here in this old red leather chair? was it minutes or hours. It felt like infinity and he wanted to savor every second of it.

The old bedroom was in full morning sun, giving him the opportunity to see every little corner, deepening what he so cherished in full clarity.

He knew, like everyone else in this goddamn world, that there was no eternity. Every second was valuable, and what seemed enduring could be lost forever tomorrow.

Relaxed and at peace, fully enjoying the moment, he leaned back in his chair. He wanted to burn every millimeter of this woman deep into his memories. The three moles under her left breast, the small scar on her left ankle, everything. But as relaxed as he was, the person across from him seemed tense. The naked woman's body trembled briefly under his gaze, which he slowly let slide over her body. " Relax yourself!" he urged YN encouragingly. But actually it amused him how her body reacts to his mere presence.

"How am I supposed to relax when you're licking your lips lazily with your tongue?" she whispered hoarsely. Oh, that tongue, Daryl's tongue, was a godsend.

Big and voluminous, wet and nimble, soft and tall. How she would like to feel this now. "Open your thighs, I want to see all of you!" his raspy voice snapped her out of her brief daydream. She hadn't liked noticing that she had started rubbing her thighs together. And as she slowly complied with this request, she already felt what he was about to see.

His eyes narrowed as they looked at her vulva and realized the auspicious glint that was a testament to her arousal, she was so beautiful. he shook his head imperceptibly how could she doubt herself so often, how could she not see how wonderful she was. How often had he asked himself at the beginning how such a wonderful woman as YN could be interested in a man like him.But the many days and the many nights they had spent together, the gestures, attentions and words that she sent him had healed some of his scars. He loved her, he adored her, he desired her Her nipples perky erected than Daryl's eyes wandered over her breasts.

Those wonderful big breasts. She tilted her head slightly and met him with a soft smile. "Please don't you ever want to touch me."

A small, inviting movement of his hand was enough to let her get up from the bed, on whose edge she had obediently persevered for the last few moments. Slowly she walked over to him and let her hips wander seductively from side to side.

When she was close enough to him, his hands grabbed her pelvis and pulled her towards him. Y.N's hands cupped Daryl's face gently and lovingly and stroked a strand of hair from his face. Her lips met his softly. She poured all her love into that kiss, which he gladly returned.

"Open my pants!" he whispered and she was only too happy to do so. She freed his manhood from his pants and cupped them carefully as she knelt in front of him. He opened his mouth but she cut him off." Daryl, I want, that you feel good. I just want you to enjoy today." Her long, narrow fingers gently played around his glans and elicited a deep sigh from him.

Slowly and always maintaining eye contact, she moved her head down. Licked his once with relish full length, from balls to tip, Daryl's right hand gently rested on her head, sucking it as she began alternately sucking his balls into her mouth and trying to get his penis as far into her mouth as possible . YN was careful not to let her speed increase in order to give him this pleasure for as long as possible.

He groaned happily. "You give me many new ideas..!" He whispered, "Not now, now I need more from you! Put it deeper in, I want to feel your throat!" But he was suddenly so hot that he didn't want to wait for her to follow.

Certainly his hand pushed her head steadily and deeper and deeper onto his cock until she began to choke the first. With one hand YN enclosed his still free shaft, which she didn't Got in the mouth and with the second one she massaged his balls. Darly's rhythm became faster and faster and his moaning louder. "Yes... like that. Grab it harder.!" She heard a twitch in his penis and knew he was almost ready

Daryl pulled her to him abruptly with his hand in her hair and kissed her passionately and roughly, while his free hand rubbed himself even more until he semen on her breasts spilled out. Panting, he broke away from her. "Would you also like to come to salvation?" he asked her with a dark grin and she nodded with her big doe eyes." Then lie down on your back on the floor and pull your legs apart at the ankles!". Without further ado she complied with his command. "You like to be my good girl! ” " Yes . always!"

"Well then......" Daryl let his left foot wander forward and placed it with the sole of the shoe directly on her middle. "Then bring yourself to the climax, I'm sure the rough sole will definitely feel good!" He grinned, making her swallow hard, "Go ahead, I have more in mind for today.......

[winchestershiresauce]

Thank you for tagging me, @budcooper!

rules: post the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. send me an ask with the title that intrigues you and I’ll post a little snippet or tell you something about it!

there’s a lot of them and they’re spread out over quite a few fandoms so sorry not sorry!

DD - reluctant allies (Daryl Dixon)

JM - sacrifice (Joel Miller)

PD - skirt/domestic sub (Poe Dameron)

TT - teacher (Tig Trager)

TT - dom/exhibitionism (Tig Trager)

FM - fool in the rain (Frankie Morales)

JG - facesitting (Javi Gutierrez)

SG - soft smut (Santi Garcia)

SG - ldr angst (Santi Garcia)

SG - all day edge (Santi Garcia)

NB - soulmate AU (Nathan Bateman)

NB - AI love triangle (Nathan Bateman)

NB - gold star (Nathan Bateman)

DB - fat comedian reader (Dieter Bravo)

SG - confident reader/soft subby steven (Steven Grant)

BL - sex on bike (Bishop Losa)

Emily idea (Emily Galindo)

thigh riding (Daryl Dixon)

Learn to Ride (Daryl Dixon)

Body Heat (Daryl Dixon)

MC idea ex reader (Daryl Dixon)

Slow languid kisses (Daryl Dixon)

bruised battered broken (Daryl Dixon)

sunlight wake up (Daryl Dixon)

Touch (Dean Winchester)

cas edging (Castiel)

Dean - can’t sleep, fluff (Dean Winchester)

tension (Dean Winchester)

...That’s a lot of WIPs. 😂 I added the characters because there's so many.

No pressure tagging @rcughroad @say-al0e @foxilayde @daryl-dixon-daydreams @babiebucky and anyone else who wants to play