#crossbow anon
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STOP GIVING BIRTH SANDTUFT!!!! STOP IT!!!
-🏹
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More velite glow up, I like this direction much better :)
#anon who suggested crossbow and armor you are very smart i love you#i wanna work pilot into it somehow too#anyway#im liking this a lot more now#doesn't look like kaveh anymore lol#kinda reminds me of himeko tho#not that that's a bad thing imo#also gotta figure out how to draw crossbow and make it techy#and legs....#thats a problem for another day lol#honkai star rail#hsr#hsr velite#hsr velite glowup
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I think I'm one of those object-sexual people but I'm not entirely sure. I thought I was asexual for a really long time, until I found this old prop/decorative crossbow at this flea market near my house. I got horny about it??? I think?? Now I am obsessed with crossbows and I saved up to have one built custom on etsy and I think I might cum the instant I hold it in my hands, no joke.
Holy fuck I think I know who this is because your entire blog is like, medieval crossbow themed, my MAN. Dude, let me officiate your crossbow wedding when it gets there, please🙏
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heyyyyy do you write for TWD by any chance? asking for a friend 👉👈 (the friend is me)
yeha....i could!! most certainly >:)
#to say early seasons of TWD tv series was not a core memory for me would be a lie LOL#/sideyes mr crossbow hillbilly#>:) hehe#twd#the walking dead#ellie chats#anons
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Would love to hear u talk more about Clem and Minnie mirroring one another if u haven’t already 🦅
i have Not >:) cracks knuckles
talking about minnie can be hard since she Really only exists in eps 3 and 4. eps 1 and 2 keep the twins pretty mysterious we only learn a few things about them. i think the most important thing we know about them tho is that they (or at least minnie) provided a sense of relief for the ericson kids. tenn saying how minnie would sing them "dont be afraid" when they were feeling scared. i think its safe to assume she wrote the song Specifically to have a way to make the other kids feel better when things were rough
when the twins die the kids lose this emotional support and we can tell its been hard on all of them (some more than others). but then in comes clementine. our girl whos been carrying the "light in the darkness" motif since season 1. and although she got that shit a little dirty in seasons 2 and 3 (ava going off in s3 about how clem and aj are light and hope and shit so we're still supposed to see it (and recognize that clem has become so Dark in s3 without aj)), she got her light back when she got aj back and she'll die protecting him
clem (and aj) fall very quickly into the hole the twins left. now its clem who makes them feel safe. first with finding them food then protecting them against the raiders ("youre our savior clem" "we were more scared than we let on when you met us. you made that go away"). its not an accident theyre put up in the twins room. and with the way violet grabs the frame and looks at it sadly we can even assume clem sleeps in minnies old bed (also the old torn down paintings seem to only be on ajs side of the room and hes got his whole "i wanna be an artist too" thing going on). clem has unintentionally taken on minnies old role of making the kids feel safe and reassured
then we finally meet minnie. and based on how the others described her there is definitely a piece of herself that shes lost (that shes killed). her light is gone now. and although her motivations have been warped, they remain the same. i do genuinely believe she is still trying to protect the ericson kids and do whats best for them, but just in the only way she thinks she can to stop more people from dying. she might even think the pros of living with the delta are worth the cons. clementine is the one teaching them to fight back but minnie knows from experience that fighting back just gets you killed, so she feels like if she can just stop clementine then everything will be fine ("youre the FUCKING problem here" "i wont let you get them all killed" and she does seem genuinely concerned if clem and vi are fighting in the cell. and obviously we know she doesnt want anything to happen to tenn). both minnie and clem want to protect the ericson kids they just have conflicting opinions about which is the right way to do it. but minnie Does show her ass when she ends her "if you just do what they say you can live" speech with "you can be rewarded just like i am" 👀 oh girl... she didnt just give up she gave in. killing sophie was her breaking point and i really wish we knew more about how that scene went down outside of lillys dramatic retelling i would like to see it objectively please. but based on the way lilly tells it, minnie (im sure begrudgingly) accepted her place at the delta before it even came to that, and was probably just pulled along by sophie when she tried to escape. which is probably why (im assuming) lilly gave her the choice to kill sophie to stay with the delta (her New family), and she did... she kills a piece of herself when she does this (only compounded by the twin imagery), and i think her seeing clem fight back reminds her of sophie and brings all those feelings to the surface. and if she can just kill clem everything will be ok, cuz it worked last time....
minnie singing "dont be afraid" when attacking them on the bridge. a song that once brought them peace now being used to herald death. but since she approaches already singing it she was probably singing it to soothe herself as she succumbs to her bite, walking away from the wreckage she blames on clem, her delta family dead (she Did care about them in a fucked up way), using a herd of walkers against them the same way clem used a herd of walkers to attack the boat. all minnie cares about at this point is finding tenn, and she does, and shes gonna take him with her. just like clem looking for aj, finding him, and taking him. but where clem would die to protect aj, minnie wants to kill tenn to take him "home" with her. add to this ajs feelings about ending up alone without clem and wanting to be walkers together if it came to it. this is why tenn dying on the bridge feels narratively fulfilling to me even tho i hate it 😭 tenn wants to be with minnie (and sophie and their parents) and death doesnt scare him. it kinda comforts him. him and minnie dying together here is like the dark fate clem and aj barely avoid
and then vi fitting into this as she became tenns caretaker after the twins left. she also wants whats best for him so her and minerva fighting at the end for tenn is interesting. especially since violet (and louis but he wasnt tenns caretaker the way vi was) can die throwing him over the gap. i like the layers violet adds to being in the bridge scene, and it makes it even more sad when she cant protect him because thats all shes been trying to do since before clem and aj even showed up. plus aj shooting tenn puts violet in a similar position to louis in regards to marlons death
i really love the ways violets route adds to all the minnie and tenn stuff. and the way we can see clems influence change her. how a saved violet is ready to fight with clem but a kidnapped violet believes in minnies goals and thinks giving up is the safest plan for everyone. because regardless if you save her or not violet ALSO wants to keep the ericson kids safe and just doesnt know the best way to do it. clem encourages violet to step up and minnie encourages violet to give up (warping her character growth which is why i cant Not save her 😭 and the betrayal of it all). using violet as a common denominator is another way to differentiate between clem and minnie. then throw the romance on top of that.... you can see why i get a little...Sillay.. this is ALSO why i dont like vinerva in any romantic capacity post the events of ep3 and why i love seeing vi with clem. its what they each encourage in her. minnies weakness, clems strength.... why seeing vi and minnie fight clem makes me want to cry but seeing clem and vi fight minnie makes me jump off the walls LETS GOOO
and i havent even talked about lilly yet.... how if lee took lilly up on her offer in S1 about stealing the RV together clem couldve ended up in her custody.... i definitely believe clem looks at minnie and sees some broken scared part of herself in there. she is Fiercely Loyal and would do anything for her family so if she was raised (or broken) in that environment (and it seems very "ends justify the means" with the delta as it sounds like its actually pretty good over there if you can look past the intimidation and torture and kidnapping) i could definitely see her being the one standing behind lilly in some other universe. its what lilly still tries to do with her but its too late (and so lilly tries it with aj instead which is still a way to get to clem). but clems grown now and shes been making her own choices for a long time. shes already been through this with the new frontier (and hell even with carver at howes). she'd die before she gave in. and minnie made the choice to kill her sister to save herself
even with the little info we actually have on minnie she still works pretty well as a foil to clem. this is why i find it easier to talk about minnie when comparing her to clem like i feel like its her main purpose. i feel like theres still more i could say its just eluding me. its not a coincidence that minnie almost takes clem down with her in the end. why shes the reason clems able to get bit. minnie blames clem for her own demise and she's gonna get in one last fuck you. and minnies fate is one clem is desperately trying to avoid. kinda 👀 to be taken down by your narrative foil
#even visually they put clem and minnie as opposites with clem inheriting marlons bow and minnie using a crossbow (tlou pt2 also did this)#they even give minnie clems haircut given to her by javi in s3 lol which just makes it a clean version of clems currently growing cut#and i cant talk about minnie without also mentioning violet like i Have to they are pretty intertwined she really adds depth to it all#sorry to do this to your dashes but also im not 👁👁#twdg#anon i hope you didnt think i ignored your message i hope you thought 'oh shes writing an ESSAY essay'#pasting this into word just in case tumblr fucks it up...this is 1430 words 😭 bro why cant i be like this for like important things#replies with lexi#incognito#god i STILL feel like im forgetting shit which is WILD there should NOT be this much to say...yet here i am...
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King Vultures have big harpoons on the sides of their heads that they can use to stab prey.
Vultures are surprisingly cowardly though, they’ll flee after a few spear hits, and if you manage to hit their head right they’ll drop a mask, which you can use to scare of lizards!
-🪲 bug anon (if you do those and a bug anon hasn’t been taken already!)
TA: Ah, I see...
TA: Thank you for the advice!
#You can use bug anon if you'd like. The only named anon here is crossbow anon. But now we got you bug anon! :D#With that said. HI BUG ANON YOU'RE SUPER COOL! :D!!!!#we almost to ruby ehehehehe#rain world#rain world oc#rain world askblog#rw oc#the amalgamation#rw slugcat#rw slugcat oc#slugcat oc
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was thinking about fire emblem (sorry) and thought about your arakawa family posts so here. what classes would the arakawa family be if they were in an fe game...
arakawa = as if i gotta fuckin say it. assassin
sawashiro = dread fighter
ichi = As If I Gotta Fuckin Say It Part II. hero
masato = sniper, exclusively equipped with crossbows. maaaaaaaybe bowknight if he doesn't get tired riding the horse
aoki = sage
mitsu = bard
#snap chats#jail to anon for thinking of FE and then making ME have to think about FE....#i couldve had sawashiro be a swordmaster but dread fighters are more flexible with the weapons they use#plus alm's dumb ass 'they fight to win and for the people they love'#i do not acknowledge 'to improve themselves' alright we'll leave with the 75% accuracy we can make it work if we twist it#75% IS basically a miss in FE but anyways#masato was the hardest one to think of everyone else is p straight forward LMAO#i cant have him as an attack-heavy unit cause. Well.#he also wouldn't HEAL people so i cant just call it a day and make him a priest#and as tempting as it was he wouldn't be about black magic hence Sage Class and using anima/light magic as aoki#listen if oliver was a bishop using dark magic im making exceptions to evil characters being 'morally favorable' classes#snipers are one of few classes who can use crossbows while also not being Extremely High Level#i was gonna have him be a bow knight but horseback riding can be stressful- ESP with a weapon#and thats just if youre a guy it def wouldnt be easy for someone with masato's condition#maybe if the horse goes real slow....#anyway there thats more FE than i should ever talk about on this blog LMAOOOO
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YOU GOT SOME ANON HATE!?!?!?!?
Nonono, we can't have that!!!
More anon love!
-crossbow anon
PEACE N LOVEEEEE!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
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Important question about your btvs au, but feel free to refuse to answer: Is Camila going to get a crossbow at some point?
yknow i wasn't planning on it but i'll keep it in mind
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hooray! It looks amazing, thank you so much!
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I think you're a little stinker >:(
On anon, tell me what your muse thinks of mine and they’ll try to guess who it is!
"Yeah, well, you stink far worse than I do, you scruffy old man." Eyes rolled and arms crossed, not too offended. She knew this was Vigor. He hardly made a secret of his dislike for the little thief. And... fair enough, to be honest.
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drag the stupid fletching scene on main 😌
the gay urge to see feathers wet with blood the other, gayer urge to see nynaeve go from ‘scare 🥺🥺’ to girlboss central as soon as she realises yeah gayboy you can treat the wound like a normal person oooops you did a Healing by accident
#the even GAYER urge to have egwene there squinting at her weaves like?? she’s doing this math without a calculator#oh to have seen nynaeve scowling at avi and co and them 😐 whatever you say queen#but what. i’m so over it#i know it was a crossbow bolt and those are stiff bois but come on#elayne can’t heal herself but she could have cut the shaft probably#whatever i’m over it#i am#‘anon’#wot show spoilers
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Eating eggs (or getting them into you any other way) will grant you a boost of confidence, strength, and speed. .5x multiplier for every chicken egg, 2x multiplier for anything bigger. Buff lasts until tomorrow morning.
I'll stick with the eating thing thaaaanks.
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Would you do a jealous daryl fic? Im pretty open to whatever, I just like it when he gets all riled up.
Play Date.
•Summary: You confess to Daryl, but he doesn’t take it serious, leaving you heartbroken. But when he sees you with Spencer the next day, it sparks jealousy in him he didn’t know he had. (Fem reader)
•Warnings: 18+, No established relationship, angst, fluff
•Word Count: 3.5k
•Setting: Alexandria
•A/N: thank you for the request anon! I’m sorry if you aren’t happy with the results. It took me awhile to write this 🫶🏼 I think if Daryl were actually in a relationship with you, he’d be more trusting so he wouldn’t be as jealous.
The walls of Alexandria were a stark contrast to the world outside. It wasn’t just the literal separation between life and death, safety and chaos; it was the reminder of what life had been before everything fell apart. It wasn’t long ago that the world had been buzzing with electricity, the hum of cities, and the simple luxuries they all took for granted. But now? Now, the very idea of safety felt alien.
You glanced over at the furniture as you walked around the home you had been given, the group clustered around you like a protective herd. You all had been in Alexandria for only a day or two, and even though everyone was supposed to be settling in, there was an air of distrust hanging over the group. Rick, in particular, was on edge, his eyes scanning every corner of the street for unseen threats.
Daryl, meanwhile, looked as out of place as he felt. His clothes were worn and dirty, his hair hanging down over his face, but it wasn’t just his appearance that set him apart from the clean-cut Alexandrians. It was the way he held himself, like a caged animal, ready to bolt at the first sign of danger.
You’d known Daryl long enough to recognize the signs. He didn’t belong in a place like this, and he knew it. Hell, none of them did. But Daryl? He was different. He’d always been more comfortable in the wild even before the fall, so here, with their pristine houses and manicured lawns, he felt suffocated.
When Deanna invited everyone to the party, Daryl’s reaction was immediate and expected.
“I ain’t goin’,” he grunted, not even looking at you as he adjusted the strap on his crossbow. He was standing on the porch of the house you were all sharing, still on edge about sleeping inside, feeling a need to stay outside and keep watch to protect them from any and all possible dangers.
“Daryl…” you started, your voice soft, knowing that reasoning with him required patience. “It’s just for a little while. We’ve been out there so long, and Deanna’s trying to make us feel at home. I know it’s not what you want, but could you come? For me?”
Daryl stopped, his fingers stilling on the strap, and he turned to look at you, his blue eyes piercing through the shadows of his messy hair. You saw the hesitation in him, the way he always struggled with doing things for others when they weren’t strictly necessary for survival. But you weren’t asking for much—just his presence.
“Fine,” he muttered, not meeting your eyes. “‘But I ain’t puttin’ on no tie.”
A small smile tugged at your lips. “Deal.”
The party was already in full swing by the time you had arrived. People were mingling, drinks in hand, laughter filling the air in a way that felt foreign to the group that had spent so long fighting for their lives. It was strange, surreal even, to see people acting as though the world outside wasn’t in ruins. You noticed how uncomfortable Daryl looked almost immediately, his broad shoulders hunched in his black button up shirt while his eyes scanned the crowd as if he were looking for an escape route.
Daryl didn’t say much, hovering behind you like a shadow, his discomfort evident in every tense movement. People from Alexandria approached you, eager to learn about the new arrivals. They asked questions—about where your group had came from, how long they’d been on the road, and how you were all adjusting. You answered politely, but there was always a part of you that held back, a part that still didn’t fully trust this place.
Daryl, meanwhile, was grateful that no one spoke to him, even if the reason they didn’t was because they feared him. He stayed quiet, following you from conversation to conversation, his eyes flicking between you and the people who approached. He felt out of place, like he didn’t belong among these clean, well-fed people who seemed oblivious to the horrors faced outside those walls. But he stayed because you, the person he loved, asked him to.
Eventually, Deanna approached, her smile warm as she introduced you and Daryl to her husband, Reg.
“It’s so nice to meet you both.” Reg began, glancing between the two of them with a kind smile. “So, how long have you two been together?”
Your cheeks flushed instantly, and you quickly corrected him, laughing nervously. “Oh, no, we’re not… we’re not together.”
Daryl stayed silent, his heart was racing but he said nothing. He wasn’t sure what to say, anyway. The awkwardness of the moment hung in the air for a second too long before Deanna’s smile widened knowingly.
“Well, you make a good team,” she said before moving on, leaving them both standing there in the midst of the party.
You felt a strange mix of emotions swirl inside you—embarrassment, confusion, and something else you couldn’t quite name. You glanced at Daryl, but his expression was unreadable, his eyes fixed on the floor.
Before you could say anything, Spencer appeared, smiling that easy, charming smile of his as he greeted you. Daryl tensed immediately, his eyes narrowing as Spencer completely ignored his presence and focused all his attention on you, like everyone at this party had done.
“Glad to see you’re fitting in,” Spencer said, his tone just a little too smooth. He leaned in slightly, his body language relaxed but… suggestive. You noticed it, but tried to push the thought aside, assuming you were reading too much into it.
You both made small talk for a few minutes, Spencer doing most of the talking while you nodded politely, trying not to let your discomfort show. Daryl, on the other hand, could see right through Spencer’s act. He recognized the way Spencer’s eyes lingered a little too long, the way his smile was just a little too practiced.
His jaw tightened as he watched Spencer flirt with you right in front of him. It wasn’t that he thought you were his—but the way Spencer looked at you, like you were a conquest, made him feel frustrated, made him feel emotions he’s never felt for anyone before, feelings he didn’t think he was capable of feeling.
“I’m gon’ get a drink.” Daryl muttered under his breath, though he had no intention of actually getting one. Without waiting for a response, he turned and headed for the door, needing to get away before he did something stupid. You barely noticed as he walked away, too caught up in Spencer’s conversation. It wasn’t until Spencer asked, “So, do you have a boyfriend?” that your mind shifted to Daryl.
You paused, your heart skipping a beat as you thought about your feelings for Daryl. You weren’t together, but you couldn’t deny that your heart had long since gravitated toward him.
“No,” you finally answered, voice quiet.
Spencer’s smile widened, and before you could say anything else, he asked, “Then how about we go out sometime?” The question caught you off guard, but you recovered quickly, offering him a polite smile as you shook your head. “I’m not really interested, I’m sorry.” You couldn’t really handle the awkwardness of the conversation, so you began to walk away, but Spencer wasn’t one to take no for an answer. His hand shot out, grabbing your wrist a little too tightly, his smile fading into something harder. “Come on,” he said, his tone insistent. “It’s just a date.”
You tensed immediately, your eyes narrowing as you tried to pull your wrist free. “Let go,” you said firmly, your voice was low enough that no one else at the party noticed.
For a moment, Spencer hesitated, his grip tightening. But then he seemed to remember where they were—surrounded by both Alexandrians and people
of Rick’s group—and he released you, his expression shifting back into a smooth, apologetic smile.
“Sorry about that,” he said quickly, but the red mark on your wrist told a different story.
Without another word, you turned and walked away, heading toward the table with the drinks to look for Daryl. But when you got there, he was nowhere to be found. What you did see, though, was Spencer already chatting up Sasha, his flirtatious smile back in full force.
You sighed, feeling a wave of disappointment wash over you. The night wasn’t turning out the way you had hoped. You wanted to enjoy it, to maybe have a quiet moment with Daryl, but instead, it felt like everything was falling apart.
Needing some air, you stepped outside, the cool night breeze brushing against your skin. It didn’t take long to spot Daryl, leaning against a nearby fence, a cigarette between his lips as he stared out into the darkness.
You approached him slowly, your heart still racing from the interaction with Spencer. As you got closer, Daryl’s eyes shifted to you, and the moment he saw the red mark on your wrist, his entire demeanor changed.
“Wha’ happened?” he asked, his voice rough but laced with concern.
You hesitated for a moment, not wanting to make a big deal out of it, but you knew there was no point in lying to him. “Spencer grabbed me when I tried to leave,” you really didn’t want to already start problems. “It’s fine. He let go.”
Daryl’s expression darkened instantly, his jaw clenching as he tossed the cigarette to the ground, already turning to head back toward the house. “I’m gon’ kill ‘im.”
“Daryl, wait,” quickly, you stepped in front of him and placed a hand on his chest to stop him. “It’s fine. I just… I want to spend the night with you. Not dealing with that. Please.”
He stopped, his fists still clenched, his eyes blazing with barely contained anger. But something about the way you said it—the way you asked him to stay with you—made him pause. He looked down at you, his chest rising and falling as he tried to calm the storm inside him.
“If he gets near ya again, I swear…”
You smiled softly, touched by his protectiveness. “I know. But you don’t have to worry. I’ve got you—and the rest of the group—watching out for me. I’m fine.”
He was quiet for a moment, his gaze dropping to the ground as he struggled with the emotions swirling inside him. He wanted to protect you, wanted to make sure no one ever laid a hand on you, but there was something else gnawing at him—something he didn’t quite know how to deal with.
Jealousy.
He didn’t think he had a right to feel it, but it was there, a bitter taste in his mouth. Spencer was younger, cleaner, probably the kind of guy you deserved. And him? He was older, rough around the edges, scarred in more ways than one.
He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, you spoke again, voice steady. “Daryl… you don’t have to worry about Spencer or anyone else. My heart… it already belongs to you.”
For a moment, Daryl froze, his mind going blank as your words sank in. He looked down at you, his eyes wide with disbelief. You couldn’t be serious. There was no way someone like you—someone strong, kind, beautiful—could feel that way about him.
A defensive scoff escaped his lips as he shook his head while giving your shoulder a playful nudge.
Your smile faltered, and you felt the sting of his actions deep in your chest. You’d laid your heart bare, and he’d brushed it off like it was nothing. But you didn’t let the hurt show. Instead, you forced a small laugh, playing it off like it was a joke.
But inside, your heart was breaking.
Without another word, you turned and began walking back in the direction toward your shared home with the others, your chest tight with the weight of his rejection. You felt like you had taken a leap, only to be pushed away, and now all you wanted to do was disappear.
Daryl watched you go as he lit another cigarette, his mind racing with thoughts he couldn’t untangle. His jealously, his feelings for you, things he’d never discuss out loud.
After arriving, you realized you were alone in the house. Everyone was still at the party and the silence was too deafening, leaving you unable to shake the pit in your stomach. The night stretched on endlessly as you rested on the worn-out couch, staring at the ceiling, the events of what happened playing on a loop in your mind.
Rejection. The taste of it still burned in your chest. You had put your heart on the line, and Daryl didn’t seem to notice. It had felt like a punch to the gut, leaving you winded and second-guessing everything. He hadn’t even said anything real—just brushed it off like you were joking, and now, the quiet gnawed at you, making you feel smaller by the minute. Maybe he didn’t feel the same, and that thought consumed you throughout the night.
The next day passed in a blur. You barely caught a glimpse of Daryl, knowing he was out with Aaron, who had given him a new job as a recruiting partner after he had invited him over for dinner. Every step he took away from you felt like another brick in the wall that was forming between you two. You wrestled with your feelings, considering maybe it was time to let loose.
And maybe it was time to open your options with someone else.
That afternoon, while you sat on the porch, a warm breeze brushing against your skin, Spencer appeared, looking sheepish. “Hey, about yesterday...” His voice was shaky, unsure. He shifted on his feet, his gaze darting to the ground before he finally met your eyes. “I’m really sorry for grabbing your wrist like that. I had too much to drink and I was way out of line.”
You remembered the incident from the party—the way he had grabbed you, too rough, too desperate. But now, seeing the guilt in his eyes, you couldn’t help but feel a small sense of pity.
“It’s fine,” you forced a small smile. “You were buzzed. I totally get it.”
Relief washed over his face, and he grinned, more confident now. “So... what about that date?”
You hesitated for a moment, your heart still aching for someone else, but the thought of moving on, of trying to distract yourself from the pain, seemed tempting. Maybe you could use Spencer to forget Daryl. “Sure,” you replied, surprising yourself with the ease in your voice.
The date was... fine. That was the best word to describe it. Spencer talked a lot about himself—his job before the fall, his family, the world he missed. He asked you questions too, seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say, but as much as you tried, you couldn’t really care. His words barely made a dent in your thoughts, because they were always somewhere else—on Daryl.
But Spencer, oblivious to your disinterest, seemed to think it was a success. He walked you home afterward, his arm brushing yours every now and then. You found yourself laughing at some of the things he said, more out of politeness than anything else, but for a moment, it almost felt normal. Almost.
As you approached the front porch, you failed to notice Daryl.
He stood there, not far from the house, just returning from his run with Aaron. He froze, his eyes locked on you and Spencer, his face hardening into something unreadable. Daryl just watched, hands clenched at his sides with his jaw tight.
By the time you reached the porch, you felt tired in more ways than one. As Spencer gave you a final, confident smirk, promising to see you again soon, he finally left. You were lost in thought. The silence wrapped around you, and for a while, you almost forgot about the strange encounter—until you spotted Daryl walking right towards you.
“Hey, Dary—”
Before you could finish, Daryl’s hand shot out, gripping your wrist—not rough, but firm enough to pull you toward him. His face was a storm of anger, jealousy, and something else you couldn’t quite place. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, like he was barely keeping it together. He dragged you into the house, slamming the door behind him with a force that rattled the frame. “The hell ya doin’ with tha’ asshole?” he spat, his voice low and accent thick, filled with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.
You blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean? We were just talking.”
Daryl scoffed, pacing like a caged animal. “Talkin’? That son’of a bitch touched ya, now yer walkin’ ‘round with him like it didn’t mean nothin’.”
You crossed your arms, defensiveness rising in your chest. “He apologized. It wasn’t that big of a deal.”
His eyes flashed, and you could see the fury bubbling just beneath the surface. “Not a big deal? He hurt ya!” His voice was louder now, frustration pouring out of him.
And then it hit you—why he was acting this way. Was he... jealous? The realization made your blood boil. After he brushed you off, now he wanted to care? Now he wanted to feel something?
You snapped, your voice laced with anger. “So what? It wasn’t nearly as bad as you hurt me! So stop acting like we’re together when you clearly don’t care!”
Your words hung in the air, cutting through him like a knife. You watched as Daryl’s expression shifted from anger to confusion. “What?” His voice was quieter now, unsure.
Your heart clenched, the weight of everything you’d been holding in finally crashing down on you. “Last night,” you began, your voice was softer now, but still trembling with emotion. “When I told you my heart belonged to you... you acted like it was a joke.”
His breath caught in his throat. He remembered. The way he had shrugged it off, laughed it away, thinking you were just messing around. He had never thought, not in a million years, that you could feel that way about him. A girl like you? Loving a guy like him? It was laughable.
But now, seeing the pain in your eyes, it wasn’t funny at all.
“I... I’m sorry,” he mumbled, his voice thick with regret. “Thought ya were just messin’ ‘round.” He trailed off, unable to find the right words.
You sighed, the tension slowly ebbing away as you took in the sight of him—this man who had built up walls so high, he couldn’t even see when someone was trying to climb them. “Why would I joke about something like that, Daryl?” you asked, almost pleading. Maybe he was used to Carol’s humor, or maybe he didn’t think he deserved you.
He shifted uncomfortably, his eyes dropping to the floor. “Dunno,” he muttered. “Didn’t think redneck trash would be worth yer time.”
His words hit you harder than you expected. The way he saw himself, the way he spoke of himself—it hurt. But in this moment, the vulnerability in his voice, the way he couldn’t even look at you... it was endearing.
“Daryl...” you called softly, stepping closer, your heart pounding in your chest. You reached out, gently placing your index finger and your thumb under his chin, tilting his face up until his eyes met yours. The closeness between you made the air crackle with anticipation.
His eyes flickered between your gaze and your lips, nervous, unsure. He bit the inside of his lip, fidgeting with his fingers, and you knew—he was waiting for your next move.
With a steady breath, you leaned in, closing the distance between you, and pressed your lips to his. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, but as his hands found your waist, pulling you closer, it deepened. When you finally pulled away, you stayed close, your lips brushing his as you whispered, “Of course you’re worth my time.”
Daryl’s eyes were wide, his breath shallow. For a long moment, he just stared at you, as if trying to convince himself that this was real. Then, in a quiet manner, he cleared his throat. “I love ya.” The words left his mouth in a very subtle whisper as you felt his breath against your lips.
Your heart stopped, the world seeming to freeze for just a second. He... loved you?
“I love you too, Daryl,” you whispered back, smiling before leaning in to kiss him again.
After a long, tender moment, you pulled back, and Daryl glanced away, embarrassed. “Ya still gon’ hang out with tha’ guy?” he asked, his voice gruff but his tone soft.
You laughed, completely forgetting about Spencer. “No,” you cupped Daryl’s cheek gently, making him revert his gaze back to you. “I have you. That’s all I need.”
@vampiresluv
#daryl dixon#the walking dead#daryl dixon fluff#norman reedus#the walking dead daryl#daryl dixon angst#twd daryl#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon x reader#daryl Dixon x reader angst#daryl Dixon x reader fluff#daryl Dixon x reader smut
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(To Stories)
You know, I find it funny how your ancients were so desperate for you to be the ones to fine the solution, and yet they did so much to stop it.
They said your purpose was to find the solution, and yet they gave you a body so you may keep them company.
They said your processes should only be dedicated to the solution, yet they gave you a free mind that would allow you to have other hobbies.
Tales said that you were supposed to focus more on the great solution, yet they shut you down for cycles on end so that you couldn't.
I don't know what they expected.
-crossbow anon
13ES: You're right. It doesn't make much sense. In our logic at least. But to them, they thought manipulation was a way to go. Look how that's turned out.
They thought using fear as a manipulation tactic was a way to go. She thought that making me fear he would make me scared of being punished, and in turn work harder to try to avoid punishments.
13ES: Well... to Tales Echo, as I know she's out there, hiding under my structure, listening to every message I send.
13ES: I'm. Not. Scared.
13ES: How does it feel? Knowing you're trapped within your own lies and left to rot in place?
#let the old man overcome his trauma. He's working through it.#ALSO VINE BOOM! ECHO REVEAL#can't ask bitch questions yet. but one day. one day you will be able to yell at her :)#ALSO HIII CROSSBOW ANON!#rain world#rain world oc#rain world askblog#rw oc#rain world iterator#rain world iterator oc#rw iterator oc#rw iterator#iterator oc#rw echo#thirteen elder stories#spiraling tales of uncertainty. countless fates
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Daryl Dixon x f!Reader Smut: Stars in the Dark
Warnings/Mentions: Smut, unprotected p in v, emergency contraceptives, slight alcohol consumption, reader is strong (minor description)
Summary: You're a former farm hand at the Greene Farm. You swoon over the new hunter, and he notices.
Notes: This was one of the first requests I got and I'm so sorry it took me this long to put it out! I hope you're still around anon, and you enjoy.
It was an unusually cool day.
You sat on the front porch of the Greene house, watching as the strangers that were slowly becoming friends did their daily chores. Carol sat in the center of their camp, scrubbing clothes in a bucket next to Lori, who was hanging them up to dry. Andrea sat on the top of the RV, switching between her gun scope and her binoculars to observe the tree line. There was a man beside her, the one that was with Otis when he died, was his name Shawn? Shane?
It was hard to remember their names, there were so many of them.
But you didn't have trouble remembering Daryl’s name. Especially considering how often you would whimper it into your pillow at night.
You felt your cheeks heat up at the idea of him, your legs switching from being crossed at your ankles to your knees, the rocking chair beneath you swaying slightly.
Your eyes drifted to the man you'd been thinking of, watching as he walked back to the camp for lunch after spending the morning hunting. You'd been seeing more of him, especially after the whole incident with the walkers in the barn, something not even you had known about. You knew they were there, sure, but you had no idea the little girl they were looking for had been in there the whole time.
The Greene family had kept it from you for a while. You had gone to school with Maggie, Hershel's daughter, and she was able to get you a spring job working at her farm with the horses and cattle. They were even kind enough to let you have their spare bedroom downstairs near the back door. It was tiny, but it was free lodging, and you loved it.
That spring job turned into a summer job once the infection started. Hershel had done a pretty good job convincing you of his beliefs. You had little medical experience, mostly just patching up animals at the farm, especially the barn cat PeePoe, but you liked to believe Hershel knew what he was talking about. Even if it seemed a little farfetched. So, you kept their secret and minded your own business.
You were sort of glad Shane forced the whole thing to happen. The walkers in the barn were starting to really creep you out, especially with how much they began to rot over time.
The movement of two people sneaking around to the back of the house caught your eye and you saw Maggie and Glenn, something you'd grown accustomed to. She had a big smile, full of excitement and nervousness, and Glenn just looked thrilled to be there. You watched as they disappeared to the back workshop and felt envy bubble in your stomach.
The sound of that familiar gruff voice that you'd gotten really good at imagining at night startled you. You looked up and away from beside you, your mouth slightly open in surprise, not having heard him walk up on the porch.
“Hi?” You looked up at him, awkward and embarrassed from your earlier thoughts. You weren't used to seeing him so up close. He smelled like cigarettes and something else, something artificial, and when you saw him chewing something you realized it was the very faint scent of bubblegum.
“Patricia said you knew the shops in town. Can't find Glenn, and we need supplies for dinner tonight.” His eyes held little emotion, a bit of annoyance maybe. Annoyance at having to ask you, or annoyance at having to go into town instead of Glenn, you weren't sure.
“Yeah, I do.” You nodded slowly, trying to keep the filthy thoughts from your head as your eyes raked over his face and upper body, catching yourself and quickly looking back up at his face.
“Good. C'mon.” He didn't ask, he just slung his crossbow over his bloody ripped shirt, which you assumed was from the deer he had bagged that morning.
Patricia had mentioned to you in passing about wanting to have another group dinner that night, you didn't expect it to actually happen, given how awkward the last one had been at first. With the weather slowly fading into autumn and the crops dying from age, you figured it was necessary to get some supplies from town.
You didn't leave often. You didn't have a desire, or a need to, but the idea of being alone with Daryl had you almost skipping to his bike.
As much as you wanted to push Daryl against the wall of the corner store and kiss him till he passed out, you didn't feel like getting humiliated from rejection. You settled for just watching him as he moved, picking up cans and turning them over before stuffing them in his burlap potato sack.
The sight of his eyes flickering up over the aisle and landing right on yours snapped you out of your dirty daydream. You quickly looked down to your shelf, picking up a can of corn and pretending to be interested in the ingredients in it. Hmm, yes, Corn.
He eyed you through suspicious slits, having a hard time deciding between being concerned or annoyed.
Daryl didn't know much about you at all. He knew your name, he knew you were younger than Maggie but older than Beth and that you were a newer farmhand. The only people that ever talked about you never really spoke to him.
He did know that you were way too hot to be working on a farm shoveling horse shit. You belonged in a fuckin magazine, one of those that fashion ones Amy used to read back at their first camp in Atlanta. You were fit, you had to be for your job, what you looked like before all the labor-intensive work, he didn't know or care.
He'd never seen someone as hot as you in person. He couldn't even think of the words to describe you. You looked so out of place at that farm, it was like taking a supermodel and putting her in a gas station. He watched as you put food in your bag, trying not to get hard as his thoughts swiftly changed from admiring your beauty to imagining how you'd look when you came.
Daryl thought about that way too much already. He thought about it so much that he was confident he was spot on with the image of you he created in his mind. Alone in his far-off tent at night, not having to worry about getting caught, rubbing his dick raw to the thought of you naked, drooling and crying from pleasure under him.
“Okay, my bag’s full.” Your voice ripped him from his trance and he blinked a few times, realizing he'd been staring at the same can of peas for the past two minutes.
“Yeah. Alright.” He swept his arm across his shelf, knocking several cans into his bag and two on the floor. You jumped at the sound and he cursed, his brain still not working right with all the blood that went to his dick.
You peeked over the shelf to see two cans on the floor, one perfectly fine and the other surrounded in a gross pile of butter beans. No loss to you. Daryl snatched the can of diced tomatoes from the floor and put it in his bag, twisting it a few times before slinging it over the shoulder that didn't have the crossbow on it.
“How the hell are we gonna get these back?” You asked as you walked out the front door, trying not to fall head over heels when he stuck back to hold the door open for you. You thought he was being chivalrous, he just wanted to stare at your ass in those Bobbie Brooks as you walked to his bike.
“We'll figure it out.”
And you did, sort of, but it was incredibly awkward with a bag pressed between the two of you on the bike, and the other tied to your torso so it sat behind you. Thankfully, he drove thoughtfully slowly, and you were able to get back to the farm without incident.
You were happy to let the other women do the cooking, trying to pay attention to the rant Andrea was currently going on about how Lori loved her social norms.
The wind had grown a bit cooler, sending goosebumps over the back of your neck as the breeze blew through your hair.
“You ever cook?” Andrea said suddenly, a cautious edge to her voice as if she suddenly realized she had no idea how you felt about gender roles. “Or, like it, I mean?”
“Was more of an outdoor kind of girl.” You chuckled, leaning back in the plastic lawn chair around the fire you sat at.
Daryl was chopping wood, something you'd never been so interested in before. Andreas' conversation was getting real, real boring.
“Yeah. I liked fishing myself.” She grew silent after that, and you looked away from Daryl to see she had a far out look in her eyes.
“You okay?” You asked in a gentle voice, only earning a silent nod from her. You took that as your leave and gave her a comforting shoulder squeeze before heading inside. The sun would set in a few hours, and you wanted to change into warmer clothes before dinner.
You didn't expect to have Daryl sit beside you at dinner.
You didn't really expect him to come, let alone eat with the group. Last time he’d been stuck in the bed upstairs since he’d been shot by Andrea. You basically froze when you saw the seating arrangements.
It wasn't really his choice, honestly, everyone sat down so fast, the only two seats that were open were right beside each other. Looked like no one wanted to sit next to Shane. And from the look on his face, you didn't really want to either.
Relief flooded through you when Daryl sat down next to Shane. You took your seat beside Daryl, Andrea on your right. You smiled at Patricia in front of you, only getting a small one in return.
It wasn't as quiet or awkward as the last dinner. Spirits were a bit higher, although tense with the whole “prisoner in the barn” fiasco. You couldn't recall the name of the man that was currently chained up, but you did know Dale made a scene of fixing him a plate, much to Shane's objection.
You tried to distract yourself from their bickering by looking at Daryl. A quick bolt of subdued adrenaline coursed through you when you saw he was already looking at you. You looked away almost immediately out of reflex, and deciding against your better judgment, you looked back. He was still looking at you.
Daryl couldn't figure you out. If he had a bullet for how many times he caught you looking at him, he'd be able to kill every damn walker on earth.
It never even crossed his mind you were into him before that night. It seemed so farfetched, you were too fuckin pretty to be looking at him like that. Your features were so soft, even after all the work that had toughened your muscles, your face was still so…
Cute.
He didn't notice the tugging that had pulled at the corner of his mouth until it was a full-fledged smirk. He was about to look away when he realized how creepy he probably looked, staring down at you smirking without speaking, but the feeling of your knee bumping against his had his eyes locked to yours.
His smirk slowly faded, being replaced by a more serious expression, until he saw the soft smile on your lips.
Nah, she's just friendly. He found himself trying to explain away your actions, but a large part of him desperately wanted him to be wrong. Having such a sweet girl look up at him like that was uncharted territory, and his mind slowly drifted away to the idea of your uncharted territory. He would've snorted at the pun if not for the feel of your thigh pressing against his and staying there this time.
Neither of you had noticed, but the bickering had finally died down, and a different and lighter conversation was taking place.
Your silent interaction wasn't as private as it felt, the burn of Rick's eyes on his face had Daryl dragging his eyes to the leader of the group, holding so much cold annoyance towards the nosey man that it could've frozen hell.
Rick just grinned, happy to see at least some people weren't so miserable with how things were going and went back to picking at his plate with his fork, silently chuckling.
“Do you drink?” Your soft voice broke him from his thoughts, he looked back over to you, his expression softening when he saw you. He couldn't decide if he wanted to take you out back and fuck you in the grass like an animal, or take you to your bed and kiss every inch of your body.
“Sometimes.” He shrugged, his voice low and quiet amongst the chatter of the table. “Why?”
You shrugged in return, popping an apple slice in your mouth and crunching it before swallowing and speaking. “I found a bottle of wine today at the store. I don't really drink much anymore but wanted to find a reason to.”
Your open-ended words had him overthinking once again, over analyzing what you meant. Was he the reason to drink? Or did you have one already? Before he could leave you in more silence your thigh moved against his again, bringing his attention back to you.
“What're you askin’ me?” He needed to hear you clearly state your intentions, not wanting to humiliate himself by accepting a nonexistent request.
“If you'll join me.” Your voice was quiet, almost too quiet, and it took him a few seconds to process what you'd said.
He looked you over, his eyes narrowing as he searched your face for any sign of a trick. You smiled nervously, your eyes flickering to and fro, only settling on his eyes for a second a time. Something about you being unable to keep eye contact stirred something in him, something he was painfully unfamiliar with. He wanted to grab your chin and make you look up at him, make you speak up, make you tremble under his touch-
“You can say no.” He snapped out of it to see your smile had faded to fear of rejection.
“No. I want to.” He answered immediately, nodding and earning another smile from you.
You met him in the front field, holding your bundled up blanket with the wine bottle inside. You were originally going to bring glasses, but said fuck it, you could drink from the bottle. You did forget to bring a bottle opener, though, something Daryl was happy to help with.
He took the bottle from you and sat down on the blanket beside you, pulling a switchblade from his back pocket and beginning to work it into the cork.
“Hershel said something about moving you guys inside soon.” You commented as he blew a few chunks of broken cork from his blade.
“I'll pass.” He grunted, digging the blade back into the cork.
You looked away, your heart dropping at his words.
“Can't stop thinking about it.”
“Huh?”
“About winter.” You thought you might've just been imagining it, but you swore you saw his face drop in disappointment at your answer.
Finally, you heard the pop of the cork finally coming out, and he took the first swig, spitting out the few pieces of cork that had fallen in after he demolished the poor thing.
He handed it back to you and you took a deep swig, trying to get as much courage as possible. You didn't know how to act around Daryl. He was so unpredictable, nothing like the other men you'd crushed on before. They were all easy, quick to accept your subliminal hints.
But Daryl? You could tell him you wanted to suck his dick till he couldn't breathe, and he'd probably laugh, thinking you were just joking, and go off and hunt or whatever it was he did all day.
It was easy for your mind to wander in the silence. You handed the bottle back to Daryl as you slowly undressed him in your head, imagining him taking your clothes off, his lips all over your neck, switching between your different fantasies. Rough, violent and painful, sweet, slow and deep, or quick, needy and dirty. You wondered what he would be like, was he experienced? Would he be able to make you cum just with his fingers? Or was he the opposite? Either way you wanted him, so unreasonably bad, you'd never felt this way about a man before. If someone told you a witch put a lust spell on you strictly for him, you'd believe it in a heartbeat. You didn't even know his favorite color. Or what type of music he listened to.
“Shit, get down.” His hand on your chest pushing you to your back had your heart in your throat. You tilted your head back to see Maggie and Glenn, sneaking away once again. Daryl relaxed at the realization that it was just them and drew his hand away from you.
“Lucky them.” You grumbled, taking the bottle from him and taking a sip. You were happily buzzed at this point, eager to make conversation but not at the point where you'd make a fool of yourself.
“Hmm. Yeah.” He agreed, watching as they slipped behind the stables. “Lucky.”
With your newfound courage, you decided to test the waters in a way that you felt seemed completely unsuspecting and not suspicious at all.
“Must be nice to have someone like that to take your mind off things for a while.” You commented casually, your gaze now back at the stars.
“Wouldn't know.” His gruff reply gave you motivation to push on.
“Yeah, me neither.” You couldn't think of the words that wouldn't possibly spook him off. Little did you know, Daryl wasn't some cornered frightful animal, he was thinking of the same things and worse than you. He'd been looking at you, his chest rising and falling in short quick breaths, his eyes all over your body beside him.
“Those stars look better laying down.” He felt like an obviously desperate teenager after saying that, but when you immediately laid down on the blanket he smirked a bit. Maybe it wasn't such a stupid suggestion.
He took a deep sip of wine and looked over you, noticing you'd changed back into your jean shorts after dinner. It was odd, he thought, considering the chill in the air, but he wasn't complaining. The way he looked at your bare legs was akin to someone on a diet looking at a plate of fresh, hot salty fries. His mouth watered, not from the idea of fries, but from the idea of sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of your thighs so hard you'd be littered with bruises.
Daryl wanted to touch you so goddamn bad. But being him, he was too disgusted by the idea of getting the nerve to reach out and touch your thigh and having you pull away, shout at him, storm off and never talk to him again.
And you being you, you were too terrified at the idea of making the first move and getting a similar reaction.
So you stared up at the stars, forcing yourself to concentrate, before that last bit of wine spread through your body and gave you enough confidence to look at him.
A buzzed smile spread on your lips when you saw he was already looking at you. And not your face either, but your thighs, and to gauge his reaction you trailed your hand down your torso to casually rest at the bottom of your shorts. You toyed with it, a bit, pretending you had an itch under the fabric and slipping your fingers under the hem.
He looked at your face then.
“You look real good.” He blurted, and froze at his words, ready to get up and bolt if you reacted the wrong way.
“You look really pretty.” You responded without thinking, earning a look of confusion from him. “I mean, in a good way, like you could model in one of those underground fashion shows-” You cut yourself off before you could humiliate yourself further, but the grin on his face put you at ease. And made you a little tiny bit bolder.
Neither of you knew what to say. He suddenly grabbed the wine and took an exceptionally impressive sip, leaving the bottle half empty.
It was a few moments before either of you spoke again.
“What did you do before this?” You asked, trying to ease the tension enough to relax the both of you.
He snorted at that question, shaking his head and looking away from you. “Same as everyone else. Lived. Paid for food.”
You took that as the best answer you'd get from him and decided to use the boldness you'd earned from the alcohol.
“Did you have a girlfriend?”
He must've found your question amusing, because he snorted. “Psh. No. You got a boyfriend?”
You noticed his question was in the present tense, not past like yours. “No.”
He grunted and shifted in his spot so his forearms rested on his knees. He toyed with the grass for a bit, snapping off blades and picking them apart into little green confetti pieces.
Daryl gave up on talking. He looked down at you again, seeing you were looking at the stars again, but not really seeing them. With the wine induced confidence he wasn't sure if he was thankful for yet, he reached out for you, his fingertips ghosting your knee. His eyes flickered to your face, and when he saw the expression it held there, he decided he was very grateful for the wine.
You sucked in a sharp breath, your lips parted and your eyebrows a bit furrowed. It was funny, with that look you'd think he had slipped his hands in your shorts. And when his hand fully pressed down on your thigh you closed your eyes and clenched your jaw, your body giving a billion silent ‘finally, finally, yes, yes, yes’.
“Been thinkin’ ‘bout this for a while.” His gravelly voice sent chills through your entire body.
“I can't stop thinking about it.” You admitted.
“Yeah?” Your confession had him spinning, his hand now in the pocket of your shorts, two of his fingers dipping in to pull the two of you closer together.
You found it hard to speak, so you settled on a whiny and desperate ‘Uh-huh’.
He smirked down at you, his fingers back at your inner thigh. His touch was lazy, but deliberate, his rough fingers slipping up your thigh to the top of your shorts again. He ached to tease you, watch you whimper and squirm under you, but it was getting progressively harder. He glanced over his shoulder at the house, seeing all the windows dark besides Beth's bedroom. He then looked over the moonlit field, concerned for a moment about walkers, but when he saw the fence he felt all concern melt away.
Daryl's hand continued roaming over your body, relishing in each little whimper being pulled from your throat. The thought that he was doing this to you, it was him making you into this needy little mess, it gave him a new sense of pride he hadn't felt in a long time.
“You look real damn good.” He repeated his earlier compliment. The way you looked laying down beside him, your long sleeve shirt pushed up around your stomach, your chest rising and falling sharply, had his heart racing despite the buzz he had going on.
“Thank you.” Your voice was barely a whisper, sending a shiver through him at the sound of it. Your body arched into his touch, desperate to have his hand move from your stomach either up or down.
“You feel real damn good too.” He muttered, loving the way your body was responding to his touch.
“God. So do you.” You breathed out a long exhale, looking up at him like he was the prettiest thing above you, not the stars.
“Yeah?” His voice had taken on a higher pitch, a bit teasing, making you involuntarily whimper at the sound of it. He suddenly took it up ten notches, sliding his hand up your shirt to your breast. You had to bite back the moan that you knew would either call walkers or humans if you made it. While he played with your nipple, rougher than you expected, his other hand popped open the button on your shorts.
You didn't have time to be impressed before his hand shoved its way through your tight shorts to your panties, catching you completely off guard with how suddenly forward it was. A strangled groan and the sight of your eyes squeezing shut had him teasing you again. “S’been a while, huh?”
You nodded frantically, biting down hard on your bottom lip. Your legs trembled, moving apart so he could move his hand easier. He eagerly took advantage of the new space and moved his fingers through the sides of your panties, beelining for your clit. You weren't sure if it was experience, or if he just wasn't stupid, but the way he rubbed your embarrassingly slick clit had your head reeling.
“You want me to take care of this little ache you got goin’ on?” The fact his southern drawl had gotten much stronger was almost enough to make you cum. Coupled with the dirty words he was saying, which was something you didn't expect from Daryl at all, your face burned with embarrassment.
“Please.” You choked out, your hands gripping onto the blanket under you, having no idea what to do with your hands.
He put more weight on his hands as he shuffled so close that he was basically on top of you. His middle finger slid into you, and the feigned cockiness quickly left his body when he felt you. He didn't know if he'd last more than ten seconds inside you. You were unbearably hot and wet. And just by the way you squeezed his finger, he couldn't imagine how that would feel on something bigger like his dick.
Your worries were right, your orgasm came so fast you were humiliated. He'd barely curled his fingers inside you a few times, something you had to teach him through your haze, and you groaned, low and guttural.
His eyes widened when he realized what was happening, your orgasm catching him off guard. He took his hand that was busy pinching your incredibly sore nipples and clamped it firmly over your mouth, muffling your cries, even though they were enough to give him enough material to jerk his dick to for months.
He'd need to find somewhere he could let you scream in peace. But for now, he'd have you right here, keep his hand over your mouth and fuck you into the grass.
Daryl watched you come undone under his fingers like it would be the last time he'd ever see it. Memorizing the way your hips rolled up into his hand, the way they pulled away when you arched your back. The way your eyebrows pulled tightly together, then the way they relaxed as you rode out your high, your eyes fluttering like they couldn't decide on opening or staying closed.
“Jesus Christ woman.” He breathed, his eyes dark and wild, like he'd just watched a miracle being performed in front of him. To Daryl it was. He felt an unbridled sense of satisfaction knowing he was the one who did that to you.
You relaxed fully, your hips pulling away from his rough fingers and thumb, which were still stroking your clit.
“Ain't done with you yet.” He pulled his hand from your shorts, leaving a trail of shimmering wetness on your stomach.
“God. You're so pretty.” You said breathlessly, looking up at him again with that damn look on your face as you struggled to sit up to take your clothes off.
“You think I'm pretty? Yeah? C'mon then, show me.” He grabbed your hands, bringing them to his chest, forcing you to touch him. Your mind spun, still recovering from the first orgasm you'd had in god knows how long, trying to take over control as he used your hands to unbutton his plaid button up, not caring if you saw him shirtless because of how dark it was. The red one with the sleeves torn off, it was your favorite. It was almost a loss to see him remove it, that was until he brought your hands back to touch his chest again.
You decided you liked his direction, and let him move your hands down his chest to his jeans. Your hands fumbled with his belt buckle, messing up one too many times. He unbuckled it for you, deciding he was too impatient to wait on you, undoing his jeans and tugging them down just enough to get his cock out.
When he finally tugged it out you tried your best to memorize every single detail about it. The glint of the moon on the bead of precum at the slit, the way the tip was darker than the pale base, the way his unruly pubes looked exactly like you'd imagined.
Your hands reached out to grab the length of his cock and he sucked in a sharp breath, his head tipping back as he muttered out a string of curses you couldn't understand through his thick accent.
He was so fucking glad he jerked off in his tent before he came out to meet you. Or else just that touch alone would've had him busting in your hands.
The sound of him spitting into his hand made your core do that flip and you let out a shaky breath, watching as he rubbed his palm over the tip of his cock.
He said nothing as he manhandled you, pushing your shorts right down your thighs, ignoring your little sound of surprise. He pulled you into his lap, and the way he took full control of your body like you were a puppet had you growing wetter than you thought possible. He moved you like you weighed nothing, one hand holding your side in a firm grip to keep you hovering over his dick. He was going to spit again, but you sank down against him and he felt how wet you were, he sputtered out a groan and swallowed his spit.
He reached down between you and grabbed his dick, trying to guide it to the right spot in the confusion of his lust clouded brain and how wet and hot everything felt. You grabbed his hand and aimed it right at your soaking entrance, and sank your hips down.
His head barely nudged against your entrance before it slid away, up through your lips and bumping your sensitive clit roughly. You hissed at the feeling and he grunted in irritation.
“Here-” You pulled back from him, which he objected to for a split second, the idea of you separating from him not an option he wanted to consider. But when you started laying down on your back he moved forward on top of you, grabbing your thigh to hike it up over his waist.
The new angle made things much easier, although your tightness still proved to be a slight inconvenience. You cursed yourself for being so sexually inactive, squeezing your eyes shut as you felt the burn of his tip slowly pushing inside you.
His mouth found your neck as he lowered his body flat on yours, his weight nearly crushing your chest under his. He kissed your neck as he felt the resistance finally give, his head popping inside you and the rest of his dick pushing forward easier.
You still saw stars when you closed your eyes, your body freezing from the mind numbing pleasure at the feeling of him filling you in a way you'd either never experienced, or had long forgotten. When the burn of the intrusion finally gave away and melted into complete bliss you relaxed under him, your hips angling up to drive him deeper.
Daryl groaned in your neck, the sound stuttered as he fought to gain his bearings. His hand tugging his dick to the thought of you was something he never thought he'd top. The feeling of you wrapped around it was something he knew he'd never top.
The tension between you broke and he finally began moving, dragging his dick out painfully slowly before plunging it back in, fitting like the last piece of a puzzle he'd been working on his whole life.
He let out a low groan, sinking his teeth into the meat of your neck and bringing a high pitched cry from your mouth.
“Nuh-uh.” He panted, his hips picking up a faster pace as he pulled away from your neck. “You gotta be quiet, sweetheart.”
“Mhmm!” You clenched your jaw, your eyes fluttering open to look at him above you. His eyes dark, his mouth open as he breathed heavily, beads of sweat forming at his hairline. The sight had you arching your back, making him groan at the feeling of you squeezing and pulling on his dick. He really did look so fucking pretty.
Daryl looked down at you, eyes tracing over your face twisted in pleasure, and he felt you grow wetter around him. The way your body responded to him had him trembling. He couldn't get enough of you. He needed more. He grabbed your hips, his grip firm enough to keep you in place as he sped up.
The quickening of his rough thrusts had your head lolling to the side, each thrust knocking a breathless moan from your lips. They were quiet, to be heard by him alone, which was more than enough for him. The muscles in his jaw flexed as he fought to keep his composure, the last bit of him that he had under control worried about possibly hurting you.
But that concern quickly went out the window when you started begging.
“Please.” Your words bubbled from your chest, hot and desperate. “Please!”
“Please what?” He hissed, his brows furrowed in confusion as he fucked deep into you. “Use your words, tell me whatcha want. I'll give it to you.”
“More, please, I don't know.” You babbled under him, trying your best to stay quiet. “Harder, more, I don't-”
He moved on you, suddenly putting all the weight of his upper body into his grip on your hips, right before he started fucking you so hard you lost the ability to speak.
Each thrust sent a bolt of sharp and deep pleasure through your pussy, up your body and ending with a tingle on your scalp. You couldn't moan, even if you wanted to, his movements were so rough it felt like each snap of his hips knocked the air from your lungs. You knew there'd be a deep imprint of your ass in the dirt tomorrow from how much weight he was boring down on you, and the sensation of that alone made your head spin.
Your sharp gasps that were in sync with his thrusts neared a dangerous volume, and he slowed his hips, using the opportunity to catch his breath.
“Ya gotta be quiet. M’serious.” He whispered, his thumbs pressing down on the sides of your stomach when your whimpers had yet to cease. “Gonna have to stop.”
You spewed out a soft stream of no’s, your hands wrapping around his wrists as if you had the strength to keep him there. “I will, sorry.”
He nodded in response and carried back on with quicker thrusts, his mouth open as he sucked in shaky breaths. Daryl couldn't take his eyes off you. He wished he had met you a year ago, before all this happened, so he could fuck you without worrying about walkers, getting caught, he wanted desperately to hear every sound he earned from you. He was the reason you were a broken mess; he deserved to hear and have all of you.
Your right hand let go of his wrist to snake under his stomach, your flat fingers rubbing firm massages on your greedy clit. The sight had a choked moan sounding from his throat and you whined in response, the sound sending long bolts of pleasure through your core.
“Daryl, so close.” You whispered, your toes curling from their spot at the base of his spine.
He understood your meaning and set a steadier pace, not too rough or fast, but deep and steady enough to guarantee your final orgasm, since his first with you was approaching.
Daryl wasn't stupid, he meant to pull out, truly, but when you came and squeezed his cock like a fist, he couldn't help it. His body trembled and he choked, gasping and whimpering as he came with you.
Your jaw dropped and you saw more than stars, you saw the whole damn galaxy. Daryl quickly pressed his hand over your mouth to muffle your obscene moans, his hips stuttering as he finished the last drop in his orgasm.
“My God. My God. Oh my God.” You panted after he removed his hand, your eyes bleary and wet, your body vibrating with exhausted shakes as your ecstasy slowly faded away. Your hands and feet felt cold and numb, and when he pulled away it felt like someone had taken something from you. You whimpered in a soft objection as his wrist left your grip.
“Goddamn.” He sat back to stuff his raw dick back in his jeans, twitching when he felt the uncomfortable friction from his boxers, it was too stimulating.
It took you some time to put your clothes back on, when you were finally dressed you were too exhausted to do anything but lay there on the blanket and catch your breath.
Neither of you spoke for a while, sitting in silence to regain your bearings and enjoy the final moments of buzz from sex. As soon as he came down from his high, he grabbed the abandoned bottle of wine and drank nearly the rest of it.
“I'm gonna go shower.” You breathed, sitting upright to find your shoes and put them back on.
“G’night.” He muttered between swigs.
“Goodnight Daryl. That was amazing.” You thanked him with a quick kiss that seemed to startle him.
He sucked his teeth in embarrassment, waving you off as if to say, ‘it's nothing'. He watched you walk away, scratching the backs of your arms, itching from the grass. Daryl turned back to the woods and finished the bottle before chucking it into the field, eventually leaving for his tent, bringing your blanket with him.
You took the best bath you could manage with your supplies; it wasn't as satisfying as a hot shower with your old fancy soaps and shampoos, but you were too exhausted to do more than just clean yourself. You barely even wrapped your hair with a towel before tripping into your room and falling on your bed.
You yelped when you felt something hard like at your back and you leaned up on your elbow to see a small box with a note.
From Lori. Use these next time. -Maggie
You sighed in relief when you saw it was emergency contraceptives and a pack of condoms, despite the pit in your stomach from knowing Maggie had seen you. It was something you should have already planned for yourself, the condoms, but it was hard to think straight when you were horny over Daryl Dixon.
SHANE JUMPSCAPRE
@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams
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