#smut Daryl Dixon

[samandcolbyownme]

Summary: Reader teaches some of the kids at Alexandria to swim and Daryl is the reason for making that happen.

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, swearing, reader in said to be 25, basically swim instructor!reader, Subtle flirting, teasing, mentions of weapons at times, Daryl being dominant, kissing, biting, scratching, hair pulling, oral (fem rec), unprotected sex, use of daddy, fluff and filth

Word Count: 3.9k | Not edited

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

４ • ＷＥＥＫＳ • ＥＡＲＬＩＥＲ

“I miss swimming.” You sigh as you motion to the green, swampy looking pool. Michonne nods, “Pool side with a margarita? Mmm.”

“Now you’re teasing.” You joke, laughing as you walk into the house with her, “But on a serious note, how many of the kids know how to swim?”

She gives you a confused look, “I’m not sure, but I’m curious as to why you’re asking.”

“Well, I mean. As long as Alexandria stays up, the only water the kids will have to really worry about is the water that’s in the middle of the town.”

“You want to teach them to swim.” Michonne smiles and you nod, “If I could, I would. I want them to have the best chance as surviving this world. I mean look at me, I fell into that huge lake the other day and if I didn’t know how to swim I wouldn’t probably still be here.”

At this point, you didn’t know Daryl was right around the corner of the one door, listening. He had come to get you guys, but stopped when he heard you talking, and he heard everything.

“C’mon, the others are probably waiting.” Michonne nods and as you guys go to walk out of the one door, Daryl walks through the other, “Hey, Rick found somethin’.”

Ｐｒｅｓｅｎｔ • ｄａｙ

“Hey.” Rick nods as you open your door. You give him a smile and tilt your head, “Need me to hang out with Jude?”

He shakes his head, “No, no. I need you to come with me.”

Your furrow your brows, “Is everything okay?”

He laughs and nods his head, reaching up to push the door open more, “Yes, now c’mon.” You go to reach for your weapons but Rick shakes his head, “You won’t need them, I promise.”

You sigh, “Fine.” You laugh as you walk out the door, waiting for Rick at the bottom of the stairs. You follow him as he starts walking down the road, “So, a little birdie told me that you have experience with teaching kids how to swim.”

“Lifeguard for a few years.” You shrug, “Why, what’s up?”

Rick looks at you and smirks, “Now, it’s not perfect okay. It’s the best we could do, y’know, for what we could find.”

“What are you talking about?” You ask, stopping when you realize you’re out front of Daryl’s house, “Why are we here? Isn’t he on a run today?”

Rick nods, “We’re goin’round back.”

He leads you outback and your mouth drops as an actual running, underground pool comes into view, “Rick, how in the fuck?”

You look at him, still shocked and he laughs, “I’m just glad we could get it up and running, it’s been getting hotter these last few days, oh, and Michonne also has a schedule for you with a list of kids.”

“Rick Grimes.” You shake your head, fingers moving up cover your lips, “Oh my god. You guys.”

“This was mostly Daryl.”

You whip your body towards him, “What?”

He nods, “He overheard you guys talking. He came to Michonne and I after we got back.”

“That sneaky son of a bitch.” You shake your head, “So you’re not mad I brought back a few swimsuits and stuff for the kids then?”

He gives you a funny look, “Why? They’ll give the kids a sense of normality, you know?”

You let out a sigh, looking back at the pool, “How soon do I start?” Rick tilts his head, giving you a shrug, “Tomorrow? Probably noon?”

You nod, “Deal.”

Later on that day, you waited by that gate. All of your stuff was done, if anyone needed you, you weren’t hiding.

“You still waiting?” Carol comes up to sit down on the ground next to you. You nod, “I’m planting one on him. I’m not giving him any time to run.”

“I take it you found out about the pool?”

“Why didn’t anyone mention we had a pool lying around?” You look at her, shocked like it’s the worst news anyone kept from you.

She laughs, “It’s Daryl’s house, y/n. The only people that have ever been inside of that place is Rick, myself, and you.”

You smirk, “Yeah, I wouldn’t wanna be caught dead in his house unwanted.”

“Can I be nosey?” Carol asks, but her tone made it sound like she was going to ask anyway. You laugh, giving her a nod.

“Have you and Daryl..”

You shake your head, “No, but we have shared a few drunken kisses before.”

She giggles, “I’m not surprised. I had my thoughts about you two.” You roll your eyes, “I don’t mean to sound like a teenage girl, but. Has he said anything to me about you?”

She smirks, “He said something about your age difference because what are you like, twenty three?”

You tilt your head, “Twenty five.” You smirk, “But thank you.”

She laughs, “Wow, okay. I told him that if he didn’t I would and I think that got him thinking.” You can’t help but laugh at that, “oh my god, Carol, that is so funny.”

You hear the chains to the gate rattle and you look at Carol before standing up and walking over, arms crossed over your chest as your heart races in your chest.

You also were nervous and hoped that it was a good run, because you didn’t want to send him over the edge with what you planned on doing.

You see the other walking in, smiles on their faces so you know you had the green light. A huge smile appears on your lips as soon as you see Daryl.

He shakes his hair out of his eyes and smiles back at you, walking over as his arm reaches out for you, “Did y-“

You cut him off, hands on his cheeks as you press your lips to his.

His hand falls on your waist and everyone around you stops and starts to smile and give you low , “Oooh’s”

He smirks against your lips, waving everyone off with a smirk. You lean back, looking up at him with a smile, “Thank you for making that happen for me.”

He shrugs, “Helps the kids y’know, jus’like y’said.” He gives you a wink and you shake your head, “just admit it, Daryl Dixon.” You say as he walks away, pulling a cigarette up to his lips, “You love me.”

He turns around, lighting the cigarette, “I ain’t admittin’ t’shit, darlin’.”

But he didn’t have to.

——

“Alright my sweeties, look at me. When you want to doggy paddle, okay. You’re going to have your arms and hands like this.” You demonstrate by putting your arms in front of you, “And then you’re going to want to kick your feet behind you, and you want to keep your head up.”

As you demonstrate, you don’t realize that you’re being watched from Daryl’s bedroom window.

He loves how you can go from being so tough and hard shelled out on runs, to absolutely relaxing the second you see those children running to give you a hug. He loved how gentle you were with them, always treated them like they were your own when they were in your care.

But that’s how he is, too. Daryl can be a softy when he wants to be, and what grew into you being his, what it felt like, best friend, allowed that.

He couldn’t lie, thought, the thought of you having his baby did cross his mind, but that always lead into him thinking about his cum being inside of you and so on.

You both were actually madly in love with each other, you both just liked the chase and screwing with each other, a lot.

You had fun together, but after this. You needed him to be fully yours, even if you have to kick yourself in the ass everyday for not doing it sooner, he will still be yours.

“Yes! Judith! Great job!” You clap your hands and the other kids follow. You smile that smile that Daryl loves so much, only him and the kids really ever bring it out.

“Alright, RJ, your turn, honey! Just do exactly what Judith did okay?” You watch as he does it perfectly and you cheer him on, “That was good! Great job!”

Daryl also can’t help but notice how tight your swim suit hugs your body. He had a feeling that he knew you wore that one on purpose, you know, with it being his house and all.

That soon would be proven correct, too.

Before Daryl decides to leave and go somewhere else for the time being, you glance up, having the feeling you’re still being watched and you smirk quickly when you look up and see him already staring.

You lick your lips before tuning your attention back to the kids.

Later on that day, you walk up to Daryl and nudge him with your elbow, “Didn’t know we moved up to stalking, I would have been watching you through your window a lot sooner.”

You laugh at your own joke and he looks at you, rolling his eyes, “You’re great w’the kids, y’know that?”

You nod, “Yeah, yeah, I’ve been told.”

“Y/n! Come on!” Rosita calls for you and you let out a sigh, “Gotta go.” You smile at him and he nods, “Be careful, a’ight.”

“Always am.”

——

The second day, Daryl had come down to the pool, smiling and talking with the kids as they tell them how much fun they’re having.

He tells them to hang on as he walks over to where you’re standing in the water, “You need me?”

He nods, motioning for you to come over. You had moms there today so you signaled for them to keep an eye on the group while you swam over to the wall, “What’s up, sweetie?”

He snickers at the nickname and bends down, “Y’wanna go onna run w’me later? We can take the bike.”

“Um, hell yes.” You smirk, “I love seeing you on that thing.” He chuckles, shaking his head, “Yeah, so you’ve said.”

You smile as you let your lower half float up, you kind of push out your ass, but Daryl notices almost instantly, “Oh, have I?”

He shakes his head, jutting his chin towards your ass, “Quit doin’at.” You okay dumb, kicking your feet slightly, “Doin’ what?”

He scoffs, lowering his voice, “Teasin’.”

You laugh slightly, “Come here.” You move to push yourself upward out of the water, hands flat on the concrete to hold you up as you whisper in his ear, “I’ll stop when you finally pin me down and absolutely fuck me into your mattress.”

You gasp quietly as you lean away, lowering yourself back into the water, “oops. Gotta go. Come find me about that run later.”

You swim away to continue coaching the children and Daryl stares at you for a few seconds, trying to keep his cock from growing anymore, but your voice just plays in his head, over and over against like a broken record.

He stands up and manages to go inside before anyone could notice, but you definitely knew.

Later on that day, Daryl cancelled of course. You had a feeling he was going to chicken out, but you didn’t push him.

Instead, you just waited until the sun went down.

Thankfully, they had added lights, so you knew Daryl would look to see who the hell is at his house at this time, which is exactly what you wanted.

You took off your shirt and shirts, tossing them on the chair quietly.

You worse a bra and a pair of underwear, which you knew you were safe to do.

As soon as you plugged the light in, you ran and dove in. You come to the surface, pushing water out of your face as you look up, and there he is.

Arm rested up on the window as he has his other hand in his pocket. He knew what you were doing, and it was working. He found it so hot how you were so comfortable with yourself to be out there, alone and vulnerable, but it was even hotter that he knew you can handle your own.

His head shakes side to side as he watches you in the water, and it isn’t long before he’s gone walking towards you, arms out slightly, “What the hell are ya doin’?”

“Listen, here Dixon, I belong on a beach, with messy hair, tanned skin, and a margarita watching the waves and obviously I can’t do that, so this is my only option.”

He shakes his head, looking around, “yeah, m’sorry ya can’t have that.”

You shrug, “Why’d you cancel on me?”

He sighs giving you a chuckle. You swim over to where he sits down on the concrete, “Huh?”

He pulls a cigarette out of the pack and lights it, “Y/n.”

“C’mon. I know you like me.” You reach out, leaving a wet spot on his knee as you poke it, “Admit it.”

“I ain’t admittin’ shit cause I don’t have to. Y’know I love you, darlin’”

You state up at him, “Say it again.”

He takes a drag of his cigarette and shrugs, “Get out’a the pool and maybe I will.”

You lift yourself up, pulling yourself up onto the concrete and stand there, “Tell me again, Daryl Dixon.”

He puts his cigarette out beside him before looking up at you, “I love you.”

You were on your knees for him, lips on his, your hands on his chest and neck as you lean into him. His hands slides down your back, moaning against your lips as he pulls you closer to him.

“What was it you wanted me to do earlier today?”

You smirk, and he tilts his head, “Say it f’me, baby. C’mon.”

“Take me inside, pin me down and absolutely fuck me into your mattress.”

His hands are on you, moving the both of you to your feet, “Go.” He pushes you towards the house and you walk quickly inside, excited to finally get what you’ve been wanting for so long.

You go up the steps, Daryl following behind you. You reach behind your back, clipping your bra before dropping in on the steps.

He shakes his head, hands gripping your waist to spin you around to face him once you reach the top, “Look’at you.”

You bite your lip, watching as his eyes travel down to your bare boobs, “Y’got such nice tits, darlin’.” He bends down and lifts you up, kissing between them as he walks you into his room.

He kicks the door shut before he walks over and you’re tossed into the mattress. You look up at Daryl and he leans down to grab your ankles, pulling you down to the end of the bed.

Your leg bed down over the edge and his hands slide up your goosebump covered skin to your panties. You lify your hips, biting your lip as you feel them slide down your thighs.

You lean up on your elbows, lip pulled between your teeth as you watch the man infront of you kiss up the inside of your leg.

The stubble from his beard causing your gasp out when it tickles your skin, “P-please.”

“Listen t’you beggin’ f’me.” He mumbles against your thigh, “Been wantin’ ya, baby.”

“You could have had me any time, Daryl.” You whimper as he grows closer to your pussy, “I-I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

He chuckles at your apology, “y’know how much it takes me not t’kill anyone who looks at’chu, huh?”

You nod, head tilting to the side as his kisses grow so close to where you need him, “I-I know what you mean.”

He pushes your thighs back as his tongue slips into your folds, causing you to gasp out loudly, “F-Fuck!”

He groans against you as he licks and laps at your pussy, his fingertips digging into your legs. Your hands go to the back of his, pulling your legs back further as your back arches.

You clench your walls around his tongue, moaning out as his nose nudges your clit just right, “F-Fuck.” You gasp out, “I think I’m close.”

You look down at him, moaning as how beautiful he looks between your legs. You bring one arm up, moving it lay over your body as your hand moves to lay on his head, pushing him into you more as you try to roll your hips.

Your mouth drops open as you feel him slide a finger in. You were immediately squeezing it, begging for more, which causes Daryl to chuckle, “Greedy lil girl t’night, ain’tcha.”

You whine at his words, “P-please.” You intertwine you fingers within his hair, tugging slightly which earns a low groan, “Fuck, hold on darlin’.”

You whimper, but that’s stopped as soon as you feel another one of his fingers push into you, “That what’cha wanted, baby, hmm?”

You mood, looking down at him, “Y-yes, Fuckfuck, yes.” You whimper as you roll your hips, “S-so close, baby.” You arch your back, your orgasm coming a lot sooner then you thought.

A string of screams, moans, and whines, leave your lips, earning praise from Daryl, “That’s it, baby.” He guides you through your high, leaning down to suck at your clit.

You roll your hips, thigh squeezing his head, “S-shit.” You gasp, “D-Daryl.”

He lifts his head, fingers slowly coming to a stop before he pulls them out, “Fuckin’ hell, baby.” He stands up, undoing his jeans before he leans forward, knees on the bed.

His hands bed down, lifting you hips and pulling you to him. He takes the head of his cock and rubs it up am down your slit as he spits down, smearing it around before slipping just the tip in.

You arch your back, going silent as you feel his cock stretch you the more he pushes in, “Fuckin’ hell, baby.” Daryl leans forward, your legs moving to wrap around his waist, “F-fuck y-you’re so big.” You whimper, “Shit.”

He smirks at your comment, leaning in to kiss up your neck as he slowly grows into a thrusting rhythm. You moan with each one, your hand grabbing his hair tighter and tighter as you cry out how good he’s making you feel into his ear.

“Thas’it, baby. Tell me how good y’feel.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and lays a hand on your cheek.

You nuzzle your head into his hand, squeezing his cock with your desperate cunt as you feel another orgasm coming on, “F-fuck.” You gasp, “Don’t stop.”

You cry out, back arching off the bed as you cum all over his cock this time around, moaning louder with each thrusts into you, “Yes, yes, yesyesyes!”

“Takin’ my cock so well, darlin’.” Daryl roughly turns your head and kisses your lips, “Y’look fuckin’ beautiful doin’ it.”

You smile at his words, moaning as he lays his hand on your throat, pinning it to the bed, “fuckin’ shit.” He groans, leaning in to kiss you again.

He heaves your body forward, wrapping his arm around you before lifting you up. Your arms go around his neck and your body starts to move against his as his hands guided you up and down.

He pauses to turn around so he can sit on the bed, and as soon as he’s down, you push him backwards, leaning down to kiss him as you hip bounce up and down on his cock.

His hands move to grip your ass, moving them faster as he bucks upward. You shoot up, hand laying flat on his chest as you squeeze his cock, moaning loudly as you lean forward, slamming your hips harder until that feeling of satisfaction washes over you.

“f-fuck.” You gasp out, “d-Daryl.”

“Shh, s’okay, baby. I got ya.” He lays a hand on the center of your back, “almost done, m’kay?” You nod, “Where do you want to finish?”

He shakes his head, “wherever y’want me to, baby.” He slowly starts to shrugs upward as he holds your hips still, “jus’let me know soon.”

He pecks at your neck, the stubble in his chin makes you gasp quietly, “i just..” you moan in his ear, “Don’t pull out.”

“Y’sure?” Daryl asks, “I do-“

“I just got over my period a few days ago, we should be good.” You kiss up his neck as you drag your finger up the other side and down his jaw, “Need all of you, baby.”

“Fuck, you’re good.” He smirks, rolling you back over. He brings your legs up, resting them against his shoulders as he slides back into you, “Y’so fuckin’ tight.”

He moans lowly, “Feels so fuckin’ good, darlin’, takin’ me so fuckin’ well, y’see that?” He slides a hand down, thumb massaging your clit as you moan out loudly, “O-oh, fuck. D-Daryl, baby.”

“Mm baby? Was’wrong, huh?” He reaches up, pointer and thumb gripping your chin, “Tell me s’I can fix it.”

“Need to cum again.” You whimper out and Daryl nods, instantly pulling his cock from your cunt and dropping down, your legs still rested over his broad shoulders.

Your heels dig into his chest as his lips wrap around you clit, causing you to moan out, “F-fu- yesyesyes.”

You spread your legs wider, forcing yourself to watch the man below you eat your cunt like there’s no tomorrow, “Fuck, yes. Just like that daddy.”

The words roll with breath you let out, but Daryl doesn’t seem to mind it, infact, it encourages him to make you cum faster, “C’mon, baby.”

He mumbles again say your cunt, “Cum f’daddy.”

You moan at his words, that is the hottest thing that has ever blessed your ears, “F-fuck.” You squeal as you feel his two fingers enter your soaked cunt, “Oh fuck, daddy yes!”

His lips suck and pull at your clit, encouraging a third orgasm to busts its way through your body, moaning loudly as your back arches and your hips roll forward.

Daryl quickly replaces his fingers with his cock, guiding you through your own orgasm as he enters his. You squeeze his cock, begging for every drop of his cum to fill you completely.

His head falls down, eyes closes as he breathes heavy for a moment. You stare up at him, reaching up to lay a hand on his cheek, “I’m definitely going to kick myself in the ass everyday for not jumping your bones sooner.”

He laughs, nodding as he nuzzles his cheek into your hand, “Yep. Me, too.” You smile and let out a sigh, “So, this means you’re mine right.”

He glances down and back up at you, “I would say so, y/n.” You smirk, biting your lip as he pulls out, “Just clarifying.”

“Everyone knows that I love you.” He stands up, “I get picked on all the time for it because I’m always staring at your ass in your jeans.”

You smirk, “I know.”

——

Sorry I haven’t gotten anything out, I’ve been having some writers block but please let me know how you liked this one!! As always, thanks for reading! I love yas! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[goldenispunk]

[sleepyangelkami]

smut's fun. have you ever read soul crushing, heart aching, head throbbing comfort that makes your eyes burn out of your head to the point where you just have to crawl into a ball because your inner child feels so safe? haha... yeah smuts fun.

[sparkleshakes]

I’M TIRED OF SMUT, I WANT TOOTH ACHING FLUFF AND HEART SHATTERING ANGST.

[logansbaby]

the worst logan will always have a special place in my heart. because what do you mean he’s this grumpy, angry old man but not really because underneath he is so much more. behind all the yelling, fighting, and mean exterior is just a man who needs all the love and affection the world could offer. i just want to hug him and never let go—

[xokaus]

i just know they hit that one spot. every time. each thrust.

[corvidcrossbow]

~•♡•~ I Like It Long

➳ Summary: While out on a run, you and Michonne start lightly teasing Daryl for having his hair grown out. But there's a hidden reason as to why he won't cut it. (Daryl x Fem!Reader)

➳ Setting: Alexandria, post Savior war

➳ Word count: 1.4k

➳ C/W: Just smut n hair pulling

➳ A/N: This spawned from me writing the context plot of another fic and I was like… wait (And thank yall for the attention on that Mother's Day post??? Yall are so sweet 😭🫶)

My hair is really similar to Daryl's when it's partially or almost dry and it's actually my favorite thing about myself like xbsosjdjdneisnsiasjebeiisjabajissn

You loudly banged your forearm against the glass door of a long abandoned drug store, not hearing any noise inside. Vines and weeds had grown through cracks in the concrete, winding up the sides of the building.

“Sounds pretty clear,” You shrugged, holstering your bow and opting for hand-held blades as Michonne pulled open the handle. You, her, and Daryl were clearing through a nearby town while out on a supply run, opting to make quick work of the task in favor of getting home.

You three entered the building, keeping your guard up in case of any straggling walkers that weren't roused by the initial attempts to lure them towards you. The interior wasn't large, so you could comfortably split off from each other and still be close.

“Seems mostly ransacked. Not much left,” Michonne commented, katana lowered but out in front of her. This had begun to grow repetitive and boring, energy matching the grayness of the lighting.

She took a pair of hair cutting shears off the shelf in front of her, holding them up to your gaze a few isles over. “Think he could use these?” She asked as a smile played the edges of her mouth, nodding back towards Daryl, looking for mischief. His hair had grown quite long over the course of the last two years, the tawny blond darkening into a rich brown, accompanied by a shaggy cut.

“Oh definitely. Jus’ gotta determine which onna us can hold him down long enough to cut it,” You replied with a chuckle, eyes following hers to where the archer stood at the endcap of another lane.

“Shuddup, will ya?” Daryl scoffed, shaking his head with grunt. His gaze didn't break from the advertisement in front of him, trying to ignore your antics. “Ts'fine.”

“Gotta make use of whatever supplies we find, no?” You continued your teasing, trying to hide the grin on your face at his reaction. “You were sweatin’ like a pig all summer, hair tangled all over yer face ‘n what not. When was the last time you cut it?”

“Don’ kno’, don’ care,” He grumbled, and you eyed Michonne again. It's definitely been since the prison, at least. He moved on from the stand. “Plus, winter up ‘ere's gon be colder. Will keep me warm.”

“Daryl, you're ‘bout the only one who didn't freshen up since we got to Alexandria. Don't you at least want a trim?” Michonne pestered, raising her eyebrows at him and shifting her weight to one leg. “You remember Rick's whole hobo-beard.”

“Ain't got no ‘hobo-beard’.”

“But you do look like the only ‘scissors’ you know is the recently searched on your go to porn site,” Michonne chaffed, barely able to contain herself.

Daryl froze for just a second, face flushing as his head whipped to stare back at her. And you two burst out laughing, to which his expression soured.

“Give it up, alrigh’?! Ain't nothin’ wrong with mah hair!” He snapped, accent thick with embarrassment, bowing his head slightly in an effort to obscure it. He readjusted his hold on his crossbow. “Gon shoot tha botha ya.”

“Ay, ay! Jus’ sayin’. Rick scrapped the beard and… maybe you'll finally get some play too,” She winked, followed by a lighthearted snicker.

Daryl groaned again and rolled his eyes, beginning to walk off, but caught your gaze for just a second.

It's not that he didn't want to cut his hair - he didn't care about it – but he wasn't really allowed to either way. There was one major, sexy, moaning reason he didn't cut his hair.

❥-》》—————➣

“Oh, god, Daryl! Fuck! Don't stop… god don't stop,” You cried out, hands clutching his shoulders as your nails began to dig into his flesh. His grip on your hips was bruising, keeping you steady as he pounded up into you at a relentless pace. That grip was the sole thing grounding you in the reality of the present moment.

“Ain't gon stop,” He affirmed, voice gravelly. You moaned wildly, head weakly falling to his chest with exacerbated breaths, his own heaving against your temple. He leaned closer when he could, harshly sucking at your clavicle and boobs, leaving behind a litter of hickeys and little bites that colored you in reds and purples.

The springs of the bed beneath you sounded like they were gonna fold in on themselves, headboard sporadically banging against the wall as Daryl shifted down a little to hit into you at an angle, your clit brushing against him with each thrust. Your back arched overtop of him, shoving his dick into your belly.

“Baby, please… fhuuuckkkk.” You couldn't even think, every thought consumed by the feeling of him. The way he just destroyed you like it's an art he'd mastered, tip brushing against every sweet and sensitive spot inside you, walls desperately trying to cling on, balls hitting up against you, clit grinding on him, slickness coating his pelvis and your inner thighs, his clutch on you just so fucking strong.

You pulled yourself together, lifting your head to see him. His long hair was dark and dampened with sweat, matting up as it stuck to his forehead, obscuring part of his vision. But he was too focused on using you to fix it, didn't dare to remove his hands unless God willed him to.

You moved up, swiping it away, and his blue eyes instantly connected with yours, pupils blown with lust. He (somehow) sped up, starting to slam your hips up and down to meet him instead of just keeping them stationary, now just beating your cunt.

“Tha's it girl. Jus’ keep takin’ me good like tha’.”

His words made you shiver, and you partially fell forward again, nestling your face beside his and snaking an arm behind his head. Your fingers weaved through his messy hair, tangling at the scalp, then tugging harshly as another wave of pleasure ripped through you.

And he whined. There it is. His breathy gasps and grunts mingled with strained whines, and whimpers, as you pulled tighter and tighter at the roots of his locks. His face contorted, eyes nearly squeezing shut, that one vein bulging from his neck, directly on the verge of so much.

“Daryl… inside.., Dar-” You panted, cut off as everything went white and you hit your peak. Your whole body felt electrified, tensing, twitching, walls spasming, toes curling and claws clinging to his frame.

Daryl tipped over the edge almost immediately after, having just been waiting for you to cum first. He desperately pumped into you a few more times, before curving up once more and simultaneously ramming you down as he came deep in you, the warmth of his release spreading through your core, and he threw his head back with ragged breaths.

You were both left a sweaty mess, gasping for oxygen, feeling full and satisfied. Your muscles couldn't keep you up, and you collapsed onto him, loosening your hold at his scalp, his hold on your hips doing the same.

He recovered a bit quicker than you, bringing a hand up and brushing your own messy hair away the second he had the energy to do so.

“Ya alrigh’, sunshine?” He asked between hitches, hoping he hadn't been too rough. He soothingly rubbed his palm over the curve of your body where bruises were sure to form.

You nodded faintly, moving your head so you could breathe better, and you could feel him relax beneath you from the reassurance. He held you tenderly for a while, giving you time to regain your composure. Your eyes were closed in bliss. Few things beat the feeling of Daryl under you, rising and falling with his torso, hearing his low humming as he steadied himself – his softening cock still buried deep inside you, cum ever so surely beginning to dribble down.

You lazily remained in his arms, not wanting to deal with getting up, or the shower you two definitely needed. You took a strand of his hair, affectionately curling it around your finger like a tendril, then letting it go and repeating.

“Ya actually want me tah cut ma hair?” He eventually asked, thinking back to your light mocking from earlier, how you'd laughed as Michonne layered it on. It didn't matter much to him, he'd do whatever pleased you.

“Fuck no. Was just messin’ with you, Dixon,” You replied, kissing the skin of his collarbone right below you, and moving up to find his lips. “You know I like it long.”

The long hair suited him, he looked good with it. You loved to wash and play with it, brush and braid it while he laid in your lap. But mainly, it was easy to grab at, pull on – and close to nothing in existence sounded better than those whines and whimpers every time you did so.

©corvidcrossbow 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified or adapted to other platforms. My work may be translated only if asked and with proof of given consent.

[c1nnam00n]

Having a comfort fic but also has the most gut wrenching angst to it as well is perfection

[allagogtoreblog]

[feral4daryl]

masterlist || MDNI

sweet scent.

perv!daryl x fem!reader

summary: while looking for his crossbow around the house, daryl ends up finding a pile of your dirty clothes and... used panties of yours. and when no one's looking, he decides to have some fun with them.

warnings: EXTREME AGE GAP (daryl is in his late 30s/early 40s and reader is 18), not entirely proofread, smut, mean!daryl sort of, corruption kink, daryl being an absolute pervert, panties sniffing, daddy kink, masturbation, cussing, daryl imagining himself doing the dirtiest things to you (unprotected p-in-v, squirting, face fucking, praising, loss of virginity, cunnilingus and i think that's pretty much it)

word count: 2.8k

a/n: please proceed with caution, this piece of work portrays a few extreme or unusual fetishes, so if you're not comfortable with any of those i've listed above please do not ready this. the idea that inspired this work originally belongs to @dilfsandmartinis.

if there was something daryl absolutely hated, it was the feeling of uselessness.

since andrea had mistaken him for a walker and shot him from afar, grazing his head, useless was exactly how he felt, having to lay down on a bed the whole day and night, doing absolutely nothing but be left alone with his own thoughts. and oh, what a disgraceful fate.

everytime he wasn't focused on hunting, fighting or surviving in general, the farmer's sweet younger daughter flooded his mind. your hair, your face, your stupidly adorable sundresses, everything about you was so... distracting.

daryl wasn't ever the kind of guy to simp for a woman, but that one specific girl made him feel emotions and sensations that were hidden deep within his being for years, maybe even decades. feelings he thought had vanished from his heart a long time ago were now blooming all over again, like he was some stupid teenager looking at a playboy magazine for the first time.

there was something about your innocence, your adorable mannerisms, your sweet voice and your kindness that had awakened something in him, something he wasn't quite sure what it was.

no, he wasn't exactly a young man. and while being aware that you were very young, he couldn't help but feel so guilty for having those feelings. whenever you bended over to pick something up, he had to fight demons not to have a glimpse of your panties. he often wondered how could you be so careless by exposing yourself like that, even if you didn't do it on purpose.

and there was him again, thinking about you. it's like no matter how hard he tried to push those thoughts away, they were like water, always finding a way in.

he huffed, feeling defeated. he knew he was still recovering from the incident, and that he should rest, but why was he following orders around anyways? he wasn't a damn puppy. plus, everybody else had left him there to go looking for sophia. he wanted to be able to help too. he was alive after all, and if he was alive, he believed he should be on his feet.

so that's what he did. he slowly lifted his right foot, resting it on the floor, then he did the same with his left one. his body reluctantly lifted itself up, and he immediately could feel the consequences for laying down for so long, his back killing him and his vision a bit foggy. anyways, he ignored any discomfort and started walking slowly, his head still a little dizzy.

then, he remembered he needed his trustworthy crossbow, he couldn't just leave unprotected like that. he looked around the room he was settled in but it was nowhere to be seen. he knew it was still in the house, so he left the room. he started walking down the corridor, his eyes attentively looking for any signs of his crossbow. he was even starting to think that his mates might've hidden it to force him to stay in the house when he spotted a halfway open door.

his calloused hands pulled it open, revealing a small bedroom, all pink themed and stupidly decorated. no, his crossbow wasn't likely to be there, it just looked like it belonged to one of hershel's daughters, but it was like something was calling him in.

he stepped in the room and it almost looked messy. the dressing table on the corner had lipsticks, combs, all sorts of make-up and girly stuff all piled up and... a perfume.

it was happening again, images of you flooded his mind and it was like he could almost smell you. oh, your sweet scent had the power to make him hard like nothing else. just by looking at that small bottle, just by imagining your scent, he could feel little shock waves travelling all the way down to his cock, threatening to awaken it.

he knew it was wrong, so fucking wrong thinking about a much younger girl like that. and it was even worse considering that you were the daughter of the man that provided him shelter in such difficult times. it felt ungrateful.

when he saw you for the first time, he didn't think much of you. he was actually careful, treating you like the stranger you were. and even when time passed, he never really got close to you. now and then you tried to share a word, even if just a little bit, but it seemed useless since he would reject all your attempted approaches. he didn't hate you like he tried to after acknowledging his disgusting desires for you, but he just couldn't allow himself to interact with a girl that made him sick to his stomach for all the wrong reasons.

your sweetness was almost annoying. the entire world had gone to shit, for goodness sake! dead bodies walking around and eating all the people they could find. how could you act so clueless all the time? daryl even wondered if you had ever seen a walker before, if you knew what was really happening out there. after all, it was very obvious that you were a daddy's girl, always protected under your father's wing.

but strangely enough, acknowledging that only made him protective towards you. he was always somewhat watching, always around you making sure you were safe and he barely knew why, he just felt like he should.

so he didn't stop himself from reaching over to your small perfume bottle. the design was very simple, no labels to be seen, time had probably faded it away. the cap was baby pink and heart shaped, and when he removed it, he immediately brought the bottle to his nose, giving it a gentle sniff.

fuck.

now, he was 100% sure that was your room. the fragrance was the same one that filled his nose and made him drunk in you everytime you walked by. he wondered if that was the scent he would feel if he ever hugged you, burying his face into your chest.

in that moment, he couldn't think about anything else, not rick, not carol, not his chores, not surviving, not even sophia. you were everything that he had in his fucked up mind.

he wouldn't feel so fucking guilty if his thoughts were only about your innocence and sweetness, but they were also dirty as fuck. countless were the times when daryl imagined groping you, running his hands all over your delicate body, feeling every texture, squeezing every junk and listening close to your every little whimper. he would pull your hair, gently at first, just to get it off your face and neck so he could pamper them with little wet kisses, gently scratching his teeth along them. he imagined he'd have to keep you on your feet himself, since you'd struggle to because of how weak your knees would get at all the sensations he would provide you and...

wait, no.

what was he thinking? was he out his fucking mind? he needed to stop those absolutely disgusting thoughts right away. he couldn't keep having those thoughts about you, not when you're out taking care of such important business with the others. he put the perfume bottle back on the dressing table, determined to let all that go. he knew he couldn't just let himself get so distracted like that over something so mundane and unimportant as his own sexual desires but then...

...he spotted a basket filled with clothes when he turned around to leave. his mind immediately started to rush all over again, and for the 100th time that day, he turned careless. he slowly approached it. shorts, tops, pants and so on could be seen at the top of the pile.

in that moment, he had totally forgot why he had entered that bedroom or even left his bed in the first place. he couldn't even remember the existence of his crossbow or his duties.

and then... he gets an idea. he starts going through the pile of dirty clothes and in no time, he finds your panties. they were white with a pink ribbon on the front, a clear reminder of your innocence. for a moment, he just looks at it, contemplating the possibilities. then, he remembers seeing you in it when you bended over to pick some off the floor the day before. he remembers catching a glimpse of it under your yellow sundress when you went to change his bandage.

that meant that those panties had been freshly worn.

if just your perfume ignited such vile desires in him, he couldn't even imagine what your natural scent could do to him. and he was oh so curious to find out. he still felt guilty, but that man had been sex deprived for so fucking long, he didn't even masturbate very often. he knew damn well he was about to commit a big mistake, maybe even starting something he was sure he couldn't finish, but he finally made up his mind.

he flips the small piece of cloth over, eyeing the soft-looking lining of the panties. he gulps, feeling his mouth water right away. god, what was he doing? what was right, what was wrong wasn't even important to him anymore. he just wanted to embrace his sickness.

there was a small stain on the lining, probably from you wearing it. just that sight alone was enough to get him off, and once again, he found himself having to face that tingling sensation inside his pants. he knew damn well what that meant and what was about to happen. but honestly, he couldn't give a single fuck anymore.

in one quick motion, he brought the fabric to his face, giving a long sniff while he rolled his eyes to the back of his head. that fucking scent of yours got him drunk the moment it filled his nostrils. so intense, so feminine and raw, daryl couldn't remember the last time he felt that type of pleasure, or if he had even felt anything like it before.

it made him needy like a horny teenager. he felt himself going back to puberty when all he could think about was jacking off day and night. and it was all your fucking fault.

daryl palmed himself through his denim pants, never taking your panties off his face not even for one second. the natural scent of your cunt was more than successful to make him hard as a rock, the sensation of being in his pants started to get uncomfortable as his dick grew bigger and bigger.

just palming himself wasn't enough.

he slowly unbuttoned his pants and unzipped them, inserting one of his hand in his briefs to catch his hard cock in it, freeing it for the first time in a while. his angry-red tip was literally pulsating while a clear and sticky liquid dropped down his length.

he wasn't able to hold a small grunt as he wrapped his calloused hand around his cock, the rough sensation of his fingers causing him to feel a jolt of pleasure so fucking delicious and guilty at the same time. the archer brought his hand to his mouth, catching some of his saliva to use as lube.

oh, how he wished you were there. he'd make sure you'd get his cock nice and wet with your spit so you could rub it up and down. and then, without warnings, he'd just shove it down your throat, forcing you to prove how much of a good girl you could be just for him.

and just for him. he wanted you all for his own. daryl never really liked to share, specially when it came to a girl like you, so princess like, so adorable looking. your plump lips looked so fucking perfect, and they would look even more wrapped around his big cock.

knowing how fragile you were, he knew you would definitely choke and gag on him, struggling to fit all of him in your mouth. he would whisper sweet encouragement words to you like “tha's it, tha's ma good girl”. he imagined how he would hold your head in place and keep a hand on your throat so he could feel his cock while he aggressively pumped it in and out, making you drool all over him. “just like tha', yeah, show daddy how fuckin' good ya are fer him”.

in his imagination, you would look up at him with those big doe eyes of yours, with a mix of uncertainty and desire to make him proud. “am i doing this right, daddy?” he could almost hear your voice saying it whenever you would take him off his mouth to catch your breath for a moment, never disconnecting your small hand from his thick length.

he started pumping faster, squelching sounds were all that could be heard in that silent room, a proof of his degeneracy. the grunts and stifled moans were only getting harder and harder to hold back. he was sticking those panties to his face and sniffing on them like his life depended on it, like he was a desperate virgin.

a virgin. he wondered if you were one. you sure looked like it, your dad never let you out of sight for long enough for you to try something like that, he supposed from what he knew about your relationship. he imagined how would it feel like to be the one to pop your cherry for the first time.

oh, he would teach you so many things, everything he knows. he would guide you through it all along, teaching you where to touch, where to kiss, where to lick. he would make your virgin little cunny cum so many times it would get all puffy and red. he even wondered if he could make you squirt, stuffing you with his fingers, brushing against your sweet spot over and over again until you were a quivering mess, squirting all over his skull tattoo. and yes, he would make you lick his fingers clean, your sweet little tongue dragging across them, and then, he would kneel down in front of you, not wanting to waste a single drop of your sweet release, attacking your sensitive clit and slit with his lips and tongue.

fuck, fuck, fuck.

he was so fucking eager to taste your slick, to revel in your salty taste. he imagined how fucking good the smell he was getting from your panties was from the actual source. he would lick it all, your lips, your slit, even your ass, but he would give special attention to your little clit, flicking his tongue on it, making it cum again just for him. he would never grow tired of it.

and when he felt you were finally ready for him, he would bend you over just like you used to do so absentmindedly. he would be gentle at first, but knowing himself, he knew he wouldn't be able to hold himself back for too long before absolutely railing the shit out of you, making you cry out and scream his name in pleasure and pain.

and when he flipped you over on your back, he would be able to see the bulge on your lower belly caused by his big cock inside you. just by imagining that he felt himself getting close to the edge. he would press his hand on it, making the little room inside your pussy even tighter. fuck, he imagined the sweet sounds you would make just for him.

all those dirty thoughts and your sweet scent from your panties were more than enough to make shivers run down his spine and his whole body tremble. he kept his eyes shut tight as he licked a stripe on the lining of your panties, trying to get some of your delicious taste. meanwhile, he hadn't stopped his hands not even for a second, harshly rubbing his cock up and down until it was too much.

in a strangled moan, his cock started shooting spurt after spurt of thick cum onto the floor, the dressing table and pretty much anything that was around. he couldn't remember the last time he had such an intense orgasm, the sensation making his mind completely empty except for your image.

his movements got slower until they stopped and he let go of his now sensitive cock. he sighed after catching his breath. he was left with that afterglow and the feeling that he made a huge mistake. suddenly, he felt dirty like before. he opened his eyes slowly, removing your panties from his face and putting them in his pockets. yeah, he knew it was wrong, but he was still planning to keep them for later.

then, when he averted his gaze to the mirror on his side, he saw...

you. standing on the doorframe with a shocked look on your face.

“u-uncle daryl?”

[PART TWO]

a/n: i know, i'm disgusting. i'm sorry. (just a quick reminder, english isn't my first language, so please excuse any grammar mistakes or awkward phrasing lmao, and tysm if you read it this far)

[dixonzzgirl]

imagine… 

finding daryl a really cool zippo lighter and seeing him mindlessly flick it open and close throughout the day.

sitting with your feet in his lap while you both relax on the porch swing (alexandria era).

pinky linking instead of full on hand holding. 

finally getting to the playful butt swat stage of your relationship + him winding up his t-shirt and chasing you around the house. 

him praising you whenever you kill an animal: “nice shot, girl.” “look at you.“ “atta girl.” 

reading a book with your legs crossed on his work bench as he tinkers with his bike.

getting a cold and when daryl dips down to kiss your lips, you turn your head away from him. “daryl, don’t! i don’t wanna get you sick!” and then he grabs your chin and presses a firm kiss on your lips anyway.

daryl finds a cowboy hat and drops it on your head. you let out a giggle. “what’s that saying? save a horse, ride a cowboy?” you smirk. his cheeks darken and he turns away from you. “think ya’ got tha’ backwards..” he drawls. “no? pretty sure i’m right…”

eating a lollipop and daryl walks right up and pulls it out of your mouth and puts it in his (or vise versa).

having a journal that you can both communicate in. we all know daryl isn’t the best at communicating his feelings verbally and maybe you aren’t either, so you just write back and forth to each other.

i love the journal idea because you would use it for everything. daryl has to be up early to help rick with something? he’ll scribble a quick “helping rick. come find me.” and as soon as you wake up and feel the void in bed beside you, you go right to the journal.

him getting hard as fuck when you give shane attitude (farm era).

you get into an accident on a run and ending up losing a lot of blood and you wake up later in the infirmary. “ya’ lost a lotta blood,” he says. “then i bet you did too…” you smiled groggily knowing that he gave you some of his (he’s a universal donor).

rubbing aloe vera on his sunburnt skin and he just lets out these sexy ass heavy breaths.

him watching you get visibly frustrated when someone else is helping you with something, but not doing it the way you want it done, so daryl steps in and tells them to get lost.

daryl giving you cold medicine while you’re sick and he makes you take it in front of him and open your mouth to show him that you swallowed it.

a/n: these are my favorite scenarios to imagine when I'm in class :) if you wanna use any of these ideas for a fic, tag me! i'd love to see them!

[fordaryl]

REMEMBER.

minors dni. 2.6k words. smut. daryl dixon x fem!reader. protective daryl. hint of size kink. strength kink.

It's easy to forget his strength when his touch is always so gentle. When you're safe, he lets you forget everything he's capable of; the reason you've both made it this long.

Safety lets you forget.

And then—when it inevitably all it all goes to shit again—you remember.

"Get in!" he calls through the wall of bodies separating you. He keeps the attention of most of them, but there's a few stumbling in your direction—too many for you to handle alone. "Now!" he shouts as he takes another growling walker down.

It goes against every instinct you have—to leave him to fight this alone. But this was his domain. This was when you did whatever the fuck he told you to do. It was how you survived.

You drag the door of the container open, grunting as the heavy metal fights back. It's a makeshift prison cell, one that was supposed to be filled with live bait for the walkers. It would be if it weren't for Daryl. He was almost single-handedly dismantling whatever fucked up enterprise you'd both stumbled upon.

One of them reaches you before you'd manage to push the gate open enough to slip through.

One is fine. You can handle one.

Turning around to deal with it gives you a split second to check in on Daryl. He's making a dent in the mass of bodies, but it's not enough. Not with the shouts of the living making their way closer.

You kick the walker you've knifed back into the mass of bodies approaching, giving you just enough time to slip through the crack you've made in the sliding door and slam it closed behind you.

Locking it is another story.

You have no hope of accomplishing that.

Still, it's enough for now. It's enough to let Daryl keep his focus where it needs to be as you deal with as many as you can through the bars.

Then one gets shot down. Daryl, is your first thought. But then two are shot down at once. And then the voices reach your ears. Voices are bad. Walkers you can handle. The living was another story. Nothing stoked the fear constantly simmers in your gut like the voices of the living.

They shout over each other, calling directions as they pick off the mass with a spray of bullets. You can't see Daryl anymore. He's either dead or hiding.

Hiding. Hiding. Hiding.

You shift back into one of the dark corners of the container as the shouts draw nearer.

“What the fuck happened?! Don't shoot them you dumb fucks! Get any you can back into holding!”

Any second now... any second they'd find Daryl and your world would end. The living were different. The living were monsters of a different kind.

"They're bunched up around this one!" someone shouts.

You hold your breath.

"Well check it out then!" another demands.

Oh, fuck. You grip your pistol. Your aim was decent. You could take one out, maybe two. But there's a whole group... and they were coming for you.

You scramble to the other far corner as the last of the walkers are cleared from the entrance, hoping to take advantage of the darkest shadows. Daryl would be watching... waiting. Any extra moment you could give him could be vital.

"You better come out now," a man calls from outside. He's just out of your sights, prepared for you to be armed and ready to fight. You'd hoped to have the element of surprise. "I ain't asking."

You know what'll happened when they find you. It's the same thing each time. You're prey to people like these—something to hunt in a world without consequences for that kind of thing.

Your silence buys you less than a minute before the first of them are dragging the metal gate open. If you shoot, they'll shoot back. It's not something you'll survive cornered like this. So you bet on them being the same as the rest. You let them know you're prey.

"Please," you call, as meek and afraid as you can manage—vulnerable. Not a threat. "I'm—I'm unarmed."

Then a bright light blinds you.

"What the fuck?" one of them exclaims. Then, "Where'd the fuck this little thing come from?"

There it was. Little. Thing. You were nothing. You're not a threat. You'd bought Daryl more time.

"Come on out, girl. Come on." They call you like you're a dog, something less than human. That's how they see you. Something to use.

You take a small step forward, still blinded by their flashlights. Daryl was alive. He was alive and hiding and he was waiting for something.

You just had to stay alive.

"What do you... want with me?" you ask, still taking tiny steps towards the light. Weak. Vulnerable. No threat.

You get muffled laughter in response. Guards down. Distracted.

"What do we want? We want a little fun, honey. That's all. Just a bit of fun."

They're flash lights drop as you approach the entrance. They've pulled the gate all the way across.

Five. You count five. If you kill two...

"Why is she alone?" one of them questions. He's younger, a little less distracted.

The rest ignore him. Then one of them has you by the arm, dragging you the rest of the way out of the makeshift cell. They're hands send a wave of repulsion through your body as they grab at you, pulling you around and shoving you in front of them. They may as well be the undead the way their touch feels against your skin.

The young one doesn't move out of the way when you reach him. Instead he stares into you, suspicious and angry. "Who are you with?" he asks. Even then, his gun is lowered. Even to him you aren't a threat.

"Get the fuck out of the way," the man gripping your arm says, clearly irritated and impatient.

"But—"

"Now."

His eyes narrow, but then he steps aside—his back pressed to the wall to let the rest of the men past. It's now that you get a look down into the pit of walkers, the one's they've managed to recapture rather than take out. They reach up towards you, hands grabbing for you.

Then, only a few steps later—you're stopped. The man with his hand wrapped around your elbow leans over your shoulder, his rancid breath invading your nostrils as he speaks. "You alone?" he asks. "You tell me right now."

You blink away the burn threatening to pool tears in your eyes. Were you alone? If you were...

The man's grip tightens, the only warning you get before you're forced to your knees and staring down into the pit of hungry walkers. "Speak," he demands, nails carving into your skin. "I'd hate to waste you like this."

There's two other men behind you. Three surrounding you in total. You could take one out for sure. They hadn't even searched you for weapons. They expected nothing out of you at all.

But then there'd be two, only counting the ones in reaching distance. How long would it take the other two further away to aim their guns in your direction?

You were dying tonight if Daryl was dead, that was certain. Your only hope was that he was waiting and watching... but what would he be waiting for...

Your pistol sits at your hip, a comfortable weight.

You take a deep breath. You could wait to die. Or fight now and hope that's the moment he's waiting for... if he's waiting at all.

The man holding you drops to one knee behind you. He leans over to speak in your ear. You wouldn't need to rely on your aim for the first kill, only any that followed. It was a headstart you weren't likely to get again. You reach for your pistol and before the man can open his lips and taint your senses with his rot once more, you shoot him through the underside of his jaw.

Your ears ring as his body drops. But you were ready. The men behind you aren't.

You were nothing. Prey.

The few seconds that affords you are priceless. You manage to shoot one more through the head before he can get hands on his own weapon.

The third is another story. His gun is pointed at you for what must be milliseconds. They drag though, those moments with an enemy weapon pointed at your head always do.

But then Daryl is there, strangling the man with a rifle and shoving his body into the ground with a force that reverberates through the metal. It's only when he snaps the man's neck you spot the bodies behind him.

He'd been waiting for you.

You watch him stand, hair hanging in his face and his chest rising and falling with his deep breaths.

Then his eyes are on you.

Then his hands.

Those hands... the same ones he'd used seconds earlier to break a man's neck. His fingers are feathers across your skin as he brushes the hair back off your face. "Okay?" he asks, soft and a little shaky.

You nod.

"You did good," he says, that deep gravel back in his voice. "So good, sweetheart." His hand makes a trail down to your neck, gentle and slow over your pulse point to rest at your clavicle. "We gotta go," he says. "Stay close for me, yeah?"

—————

The first time after is always the same—after you're forced to remember. It adds something to the way his gentle hands feel as he reaches over your hips to dip between your legs. To the way his body feels pressed up behind yours.

His thick fingers slip between your slick folds as he holds you tight against his chest. Heat. It's an overwhelming heat. He crowds you, practically curled around you.

"You like that sweetheart?" His voice is almost sweet as his lips graze your ears and his long hair tickles your skin. "Huh? You like that?"

You nod with a small whine, pressing your hips back into him—desperate.

He sighs, finger prodding over and over at your swollen entrance—a teasing little hint of what's to come. He dips in slightly, his calloused fingertip pressing into your slippery, spongy entrance just enough to have you whimpering his name.

"Fuck," he grunts. "You need me here? Huh? You all fuckin' empty?"

"Yeah," you whine with a desperate nod. "Empty."

His grip around your ribs tightens for a moment before he's pressing you into the ground—cushioned by the few blankets you carry. He's rolled you onto your belly as he covers you completely, his warmth seeping into your skin from his calves to his hot breath on your neck.

"What do you need?" he asks. As if he doesn't know; as if he didn't always know.

"You."

"Hm?" he hums, sweet and coaxing. "How?"

You reach blindly to find his wrist, gripping it firmly. "Hold me tight," you gasp between jagged breaths. "Please... Please."

His weight is heavy over you as he drops his lips to your neck, a silent acknowledgement of your pleas.

Then he's scooping you up, lifting you and rearranging you exactly the way you want him to. Because he fucking knows.

He has you pressed to his chest with your tits against his skin as he lays back into the makeshift bed you've created for the night. His arms wrap around you, one across your shoulder blades and the other around your waist—secure and firm. His fingers press sporadically into your skin a little more than needed, like he's testing his grip on you; like he's testing he has you in his arms good and tight.

Then he hooks one leg under yours, a gentle guide to part your legs just the way he needs.

"You ready for me, sweetheart?" he breathes against your temple as one of his hands leaves you. It's temporary, you remind yourself. He'd be wrapping you up securely as soon as he'd buried himself deep; once his cock was guided safely into your throbbing cunt.

You nip at his neck in response, chasing with a delicate lick at his salty skin. "Please," you ask softly.

Then he's adjusting you against him a little, ensuring you're exactly where he needs you to be. "I got you," he says as his leaking tip prods at your entrance. "Got you," he repeats. He mumbles this way as he teases; as he plays. This was what he did: pushed you to the brink of desperate sobs as he guides his cockhead over your slippery, throbbing cunt... over and over.... and over...

Saying he liked you needy was an understatement.

Then, eventually, he slips inside. Just the tip.. and not far. Just enough so that he can wrap his arms around you again. Just enough that he can have you whimpering his name as he prevents you grinding down to take him deep inside.

This is when he gives you a hint of his strength. It's easy to keep you from your goal, his strong arms pressing you into his torso a little harder each time you attempt to resist.

He keeps you there, just with a taste of that fullness—a taste of having him as close as it was possible to be. "Kiss," he says, simple and a little croaky.

You obey, pressing your desperation between his lips. It's messy and interrupted by moments where you simply need to breathe, heavily—his lips chasing yours as you attempt to catch your breath.

"Daryl," you gasp eventually. "Now. Please."

His grip around you tightens a little as you drop your face to his neck.

Then he pulls you down to meet his cock, to fuck himself deep. It's hard, exactly like you need it—exactly the way he knows you want it. You bite into his neck weakly as he keeps you there, stuffed full—the thick throbbing length of him stretching you out so completely.

Then, "Like that?" he asks, that sweetness back in his voice—like he's offering you a gentle back massage instead of holding you down on his cock.

You nod weakly in response.

His fingers press into your skin moments before he's moving, fucking himself with your cunt as he pulls you down to meet his messy thrusts. You're completely pliant like this, all control relinquished.

He's got you.

His breathing is quickly transformed into uneven pants as he attempts to grunt broken sentences into your ear. "Sucking me in... sucking at my cock with your messy little cunt... aren't you, baby? Hm?"

One of his hands moves to your hair occasionally, a temporary and seemingly subconscious attempt to get a better grip—or just to hold you closer. His fingers tangle in the strands, never tugging hard—never hurting.

"My girl," he grunts. "My needy little girl."

It's only when he's nearing his end that he flips you onto your back and you get a real display. He grips your hips and tugs you down to meet him as he uses you, each thrust a slapping of skin and punching a helpless sound from your lungs.

Strength. Everything you've been forced to remember.

"Daryl," you gasp. "Daryl, fill me. Please."

His fingers dig a little more into your skin, his hair falling over his eyes. Then his lips part, a grunt... a broken, "Fuck."

He falls over you as he floods you, his cock twitching and pumping you full—just like you asked. But even then, even as he loses himself, he catches his fall—arms landing either side of your head to cage you in. "Got you," he gasps out between desperate lung fulls of air. "I got you."

[xd-m1a]

I love how Norman just casually takes the HARDEST pics of himself. AND HE ALWAYS LOOKSBSO HOT INALL OF TJEM

[ohmanareyoucereal69]

[darylbae]

𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡🩰

i think daryl would definitely not realize it at first, in fact i think the group would notice it before him. rick would see the way daryl's gaze would linger onto you when he'd talk about a risky supply run. rick would of course tell michonne, who would poke a little fun at him. "you like her!" "shut up, i do not!" and it wasn't until he'd laid down for the night, that he had realized it. he'd think about your eyes, and how bright they were when you'd be talking to anybody. he'd think about the nervous tells you had, like bouncing your leg, chewing on your lip and looking around the room. he'd think about how, sometimes annoyingly, bubbly you were no matter what. it would typically bother him how happy you were mid-apocalypse, but he lets it slide more often than not. he would not pick up on this stuff if he didn't have a crush. he'd be hyper-aware of how he acts around you, after admitting to himself he had a crush on you. he'd glance at you, then quickly glance away, but always end up looking back over at you. he'd study your lips and how they moved, wanting nothing more than to feel them on his. most of all, he'd keep it to himself. because the last thing he needs is everyone finding this out. and making your friendship with him tense. carol could see through daryl almost too easily, so she's the only one who can get away with poking the bear. besides you. "you like her, huh?" carol would ask, and daryl would just roll his eyes. "so what?" "do something about it!" daryl had no understanding of 'doing something about it', despite his moody, careless attitude, he cared deeply about your friendship and wanted nothing to ruin that. rick was playing matchmaker and suggested the two of you to go out on a run, much to daryl's dismay. now he'd have to deal with his constant reminder of his crush on you, as well as you. there you were, sat sweetly on the hood of a car waiting for him, a smile plastered onto your face as you spotted him. "ready to go?" you asked, your voice smooth as honey and it had sent shivers up his neck. "get in." he'd mumble. "yes, sir." let's not talk about your use of the word sir, and what it does to him. he couldn't explain it, the authority of the word sir, just hit him in his sweet spot. he'd constantly look out for you on runs, even when going along with others, he'd volunteer to split up but stick with you. it wasn't like you were a nuisance, not all the time anyway, he just loved being there for you. he'd walk behind you, trying to be a gentleman and stop himself from gazing across your body as you walked. you were the total personification of sex. "can i bring this back?" you'd ask, picking up something stupidly unnecessary, this time it was a small, pink, glittery cowboy hat attached to a pink headband. "will it help us?" he'd respond, not even looking your way, but still having to keep you entertained. "no." you'd respond, glum face as you look down at it back on the shelf. "then i think we found our answer." daryl was always a bummer, but you had gotten used to it. you knew how deeply he cared for his people, so what was a little grumpiness. but you'd always return back, and find whatever stupid thing you'd found on a run, sitting on your bed by the end of the day.

[thewalkingdilf]

can we all just agree that daryl would definitely love to smoke a cigarette while you ride his thigh.

his sex drive hasn’t always been able to compare to yours, and him being a decent bit older than you definitely doesn’t help, but he could never deny a little angel like you the pleasure that you craved so badly.

so there you were, propping yourself up in his lap excitedly, getting yourself settled in the perfect position on his denim-clad thigh, with help from daryl’s strong arms keeping you steady while you adjusted yourself, of course.

the cigarette not only helped him relax in his own way, just as you were relaxing by making a mess of his strong thigh- it also served as a way for him to stall, to test your patience, a sort of timer if you will.

you’d rut yourself against him, whining and blubbering about how bad you needed him, meanwhile he’d continue to sit back in his chair, gripping your waist with one hand while the other would be raised toward his mouth, taking a long, deep draw from the cigarette, gently blowing the smoke toward you.

occasionally, if he was in an extra good mood that day, he’d flip his cigarette around in his fingers, resting it between your lips for you to take a couple puffs as well. he was typically against you smoking; he didn’t want someone like you falling into such a bad habit like him, but he couldn’t deny how much he loved to see you like that in the moment; fucking yourself against him so desperately while you blow the smoke in his face, the small nicotine buzz making you feel a bit lightheaded and dizzy, adding to your overwhelming pleasure.

“don’t worry baby, i’ll make you feel good, just lemme finish my smoke, yeah? you can be patient and do that for me, can’t ya’?”

“daryl, please.”

“not yet baby, yer being so good f’ me, i know you can wait a lil’ longer.”