#imagine daryl

[deansapplepie]

Do I look like I wanna laugh?

Summary: In years of marriage you had never worn a sexy lingerie to your husband. What happens when you do?

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: detailed description of lingerie on your body (no body description), talks about sex, smut, Dom! Daryl or a terrible tentative of, dirty talk, knife play if you squint, fingering, mirror sex, swearing, pet names, use of the word slut very affectionately, p in v, unprotected sex (use protection kids), creampie. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+.

A/N: FINALLY FINISHED IT AFTER ALMOST A MONTH WRITING! There’s a warning for knife play, but it actually isn’t, the knife is just used to cut something and it’s not reader.

You had gone on a run with Rosita and Maggie, try to find some supplies, hopefully some new clothes and that’s how you ended up with the girls looking for some lingerie. You had never had this kind of underwear, you normally wore the comfortable ones, the more practical… when you were younger you’d not have them because you were afraid if tour parents saw them they would think you were having sex. Your father would probably freak out and your mother would tease you for the rest of your life. When you left home… well then you preferred your comfort, and nothing is more comfortable than some sports bra and cotton panties.

You had a cute set on your hands, a baby blue all lacy and full of bows. It was cute and the color reminded you of his eyes. “I don’t know Rosi, I’m not used to wearing this. And it’s not practical when we are always running from walkers.” You said, Rosita and Maggie were trying to convince you to get some sets for you. They dragged you from the section you were before and were practically throwing the cute, revealing and sensual sets on you.

“You’re not supposed to use them to fight walkers. Although… I think Daryl would find it sexy if you did.” Maggie grinned, she knew how you could get all flushed and shy when the talk was about sex or any sensual thing.

“Maggie!” You reprehended your friend. “I don’t think he likes those kind of things, I mean… he never said anything or complained.”

“We know he prefer you wearing nothing. Girl, we know you’re enthusiasts, we have ears, you know?” You blushed instantly while Rosita spoke, yes, you knew they often could listen to your and The archer’s activities. Daryl made it very difficult to not be noisy. “But believe me, he’ll like it. He’s kind of a rustic man, but he’s a man after all. They like those things.”

“Ok, I’m going to take this one.” You surrendered, but Rosita wasn’t over.

“Oh not this one, it’s all sweet and cute. Daryl already know this side of you very well. Let’s get you something more sexy.” She said looking at the hangers.

“I’m no femme fatale Rosi, I’m just me… I think I’m sweet after all.”

“You can keep this one, and any other you want, but we’ll choose some for you. Daryl will be wrapped around your fingers.” Maggie said.

“We’re married in case you didn’t notice.” You observed and showed your hand as if they had never seen the ring on your finger.

They choose three for you a black one, a red one and a coral one, they said the colors would outstand more your features. You choose the baby blue one that reminded you of his eyes, a pink one as cute as the blue and a white one.

Later that day after killing 5 walkers and going back home you pondered if you’d wear one of them. What would he think? Would he like it? He liked your common underwear, would those “sexy” ones be appreciated by him?

You had chosen the black one, if anything could go wrong you obviously would go with the boldest one. The black lingerie was very different from all you had seen before. On the breasts it made a triangle around each breast and had only a strap from one side to the other covering your nipples, it had many straps embracing your body and forming geometric shapes with it. In the middle of each strap there was a little bow. The lower part was lacy and had one particularity, it was open in the middle, in the lowest part, letting your cunt uncovered.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, on one hand you thought it was beautiful how it fit in your body embracing all the perfections and all the flaws, but on the other hand you felt silly. You never wore something like this before and you never presented yourself like this to Daryl before. That was it, you were going to take it off and wear your usual underwear and your sleeping clothes. When you were about to take it out, the door to your shared room opened, you jumped startled and closed your robe faster than the Flash.

“What’s that love? Why are ya all jumpy?” Daryl, your husband, asked entering the room and walking in your direction. You didn’t turn to look at him, years of marriage and being caught in this situation still made you blush and be embarrassed.

“Nothing…” you tried. You knew he knew that when you said nothing, it indeed was something.

“It doesn’t seem like nothing to me. You’re all blushy and you were startled when I entered the room.” He wrapped his arms around you and looked at you through the mirror. “Were ya doing something wrong? Something ya shouldn’t be doing?”

“N-no…” you knew what he meant and no, you weren’t doing anything “wrong”.

“Hmm…” he inhaled your scent in your neck nuzzling his nose on it and on your ears. “Not touching yerself without me or without me saying so?”

“No!” You exclaimed, and you quickly thought saying it like this would make you more suspect. “It’s another thing.”

You closed your eyes out of embarrassment, now you couldn’t escape this situation.

“Then, what is it?” He asked again, kissing your neck, his stubble sending chills through your body.

“Do you promise you’ll not laugh about it even if it’s the most ridiculous thing?” You asked looking for his eyes in the mirror.

“I promise it, babe. I’ll not do that.” He rested his chin on your shoulder, observing you. “Now tell me…”

You took a breath and then opened your robe, you slowly opened it until you revealed the piece you were wearing under the robe. When you opened it, you quickly closed your eyes, you were afraid of what you would see in his eyes. There was a moment of silence, and you thought you had screwed everything, until you listened to his voice. “Open your eyes.” He commanded.

You slowly opened your eyes, afraid you’d see something you didn’t want on his face. But as soon as you opened them, you saw his blue eyes, black in lust and desire, the blue just a thin line on the borders. “Do I look like I wanna laugh?” He asked.

“No…” you replied weakly, gods the way his eyes were raking your reflection… that was making your legs weak.

“Hmm…” he took his arms that were wrapped around you and slipped his hands on your arms. “Where did you get it?”

“In the run. With the girls.” You replied. “They said you’d like it… but I wasn’t sure.”

“Why’s it babe?” He asked his hands running up your arms again just to end on your shoulders, his fingers grabbing your robe there.

“I never used any of it, and you never said anything.” It was difficult to keep your eyes open and looking at him through the mirror, when he looked you like that it always felt so overwhelming looking right into his eyes.

“I’d find ya sexy even if ya were wearing a sack of potatoes.” He said sliding the sleeves of the robe down your arms. “I’d rather have ya naked, but this… damn! It got me hard the moment I saw it.”

You shivered from excitement, expectation and a small breeze that you could feel now that you were completely exposed. He pulled your body against his and you could feel his hard on. “Fuck.” It let your lips spontaneously.

“Yeah… fuck…” he repeated and drank you in. “Do ya mind if I do some alterations on it?”

You shook your head, but you knew he wasn’t getting only that. “I need words babe…”

“I don’t mind, you can do anything you want.” You said almost breathless and he had done nothing he barely had touched you yet. That was what Daryl Dixon made you feel.

His hand went to his waistband and he took the knife he had there. He took it carefully to your front and then to the side of the set you were wearing. He cut one side of the strap that was covering your nipples, then he cut the other side and threw the strap to a corner of the room with the knife. Now you had your nipples completely exposed and he was practically eating you alive just with his eyes. “Now, it’s perfect.”

He embraced your body once again with his big strong arms while his mouth went straightly to your neck giving you the most sinful open mouthed kiss, immediately making you sigh. Then he stopped. “I think I shoulda go clean myself, I worked all day…”

“Don’t you dare.” He was playing games with you, you knew it. He had no intention of stopping. He just wanted to tease you, but he had already made you despaired for him. “You just fixed some cars… I-I need you!”

“Look at my sweet girl…” he embraced you tightly one of his hands cupping one of tour breasts and the other sneaking down your stomach. “… ain’t her a little slut?”

He massaged tour breast, teasing it, pinching your erected nipple. His other hand cupped your semi nude crotch. “Yours…” You breathless said.

“Mine?” He repeated on your ear, his fingers running through your impossibly wet folds. “So wet fer me… so ready fer my cock…”

“I’m…” He pressed your clit eliciting a moan from your lips. “Ugh… your slut.”

He inserted one finger on your pussy, you gasped a moan escaping your lips. He nibbled and sucked on your neck and shoulders. “Even being my little slut, yer still so sweet.” He pumped his finger on you ando looked mesmerized at your reflection on the mirror, how you face contorted in pleasure, your parted plump lips and how your lids covered your eyes so perfectly and sinfully. “Open yer eyes sweetheart, wanna you to see how beautiful yer when I fuck you so good.”

It took you a lot to open your eyes and look at your and his reflection on the mirror. “That’s it love…” his deep voice sent chills all over your body making you clench around his finger. He inserted one more pumping in and out of you, his thumb making circles on your clit. “Such a good little slut fer me…”

You bucked your hips on his hands waiting for your sweet release and aching to have his thick delicious cock inside of you. You clenched around him repeatedly, you had become a moaning mess and it was difficult to keep your eyes open, but he wanted that so you tried. For him. Everything for him. You focused on his pretty eyes, his clean eyes that were so dark right now, the intensity on them overwhelming but grounding you in the moment. “Cum fer me baby… let it go…”

You rose your arm to the back, your hand going to the back of his neck enlacing your fingers on his hair. As you’re sent to the edge you pull on his hair making him groan as you have your release on his fingers. “So, so, so sweet! So good fer me…” he said while he drove you through your high fingers still pumping on you.

“Daryl…” you weekly said, your head resting on his shoulder, trying to catch your breath.

He looked down at you, his lips brushing yours. “What’s it baby?” You didn’t answer you took his lips on yours, hungrily damn you hadn’t kissed yet since he arrived, you needed this, you loved so much his kisses and the taste of his mouth.

You both broke the kiss, breathless you looked him in his eyes. “Was that what you needed babe?”

“That too…” you answered, the tip of your fingers massaging his scalp. “But actually… I need you, inside of me.”

He tightened his embrace on you, ready to move to bed, but you stopped him with your words. “Here.”

He stopped on his tracks, looking you in the eyes. You had already made sex in many different places, but he knew you both preferred it in bed. Your words startled him and woke something in him. “Do ya think ya can stand for a little time?”

“Yeah, I’m holding on you babe…” you said tugging a little on his hair, he released you, but was ready to catch you if needed. He unbuckled his belt and opened his jeans, taking his cock out of his boxers and pumping it a little before getting a hold on you again. He needed you, and he was glad you suggested he took you right there at that moment.

He held you on his arms once again, his hands traveling on your body. One hand ended up on your neck, just getting a hold in there while the other went back to your breasts, caring them, stimulating them… giving them the attention that they deserved.

You rocked your but on his hard on. Both of you looked at your reflections, you never thought it would excite you this much. He teased your entrance with his dick making you whimper and squirm. “Oh, please… please…” you begged, the wait making you ache and burn for him.

Who was him to deny you something when you asked so sweetly? Without any warning he trusted deeply into you, you moaned almost screaming, your fingers tugging his hair a little harsher than usual. “Fuck. I. Love. Ya. So. Fucking. Much.” For each word a trust, deep, certain, at the right spot.

You wasn’t able to say anything, lost in bliss and desire the only thing that left your mouth were moans and whimpers. With your free hand you got a handful of his but pressing him deeply into you if that was even possible. You looked at both of you in the mirror, Daryl trusting his hips on you, your bodies trembling out of pleasure and glistening with sweat. You never saw anything hotter.

His hand stopped taking care of your tits going down your body just to tease your clit, stimulate it and build your pleasure. He’s main mission was to pleasure you and if he could he’d do it every single day and minute of his life.

A turmoil building on your lower stomach, his name leaving your lips. Your walls clenching around him, indicating you were close to your high, his cock twitching in a way telling you he was close too. He turned your head to the side taking your lips on his in a passionate kiss, and as he hit that spongy spot inside of you sending you to your edge, he found his shooting his seed in you as you squeezed around him. “I love you!” You said while descending from your high, finally being able to speak.

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#daryl dixon #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl #daryl x reader #twd #daryl fanfiction #deansapplepie #daryl x y/n #imagine daryl #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl #daryl twd #the walking dead daryl dixon #daryl dixon smut #daryl x female reader #daryl imagines #daryl x you

[frost-queen]

Rick Grimes

• Cursed to be alone

• Cursed to be alone // part 2

• Cursed to be alone // part 3

• Cursed to be alone // part 4 | Final

Glenn Rhee

• Sibling's sport

Daryl Dixon

• Bodyguarded

• Bodyguarded // part 2

• Bodyguarded // part 3

• Bodyguarded // part 4

• Bodyguarded // part 5

#imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fic #the walking dead fanfic #rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes x you #daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl x reader #daryl x you #daryl x y/n #twd #twd fanfiction #twd x reader #imagine daryl #daryl dixon imagine

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

When I Found You (Pt. 19 of 19)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon X Reader | Negan X daughter! Reader

Word count: 1.3 K

Summary: You saw Negan build his empire, saw your father become a monster, a murderer, and never had the courage to stand your ground. So everything you do it help as much people as you can, carrying the guilt of being part of it. But one day, your world is shaken when you find him, the man with blue eyes locked up inside a cage. You decide to help him, to keep his community safe. And for that, you'll have to pretend you and Daryl are in love... But how long until the lie becomes the truth?

Warnings: Some sensitive topics such as mentions and light descriptions of self-harm. (I kept it light, so don't worry about graphic descriptions.)

<- Previous part (18)

{The Walking Dead Masterlist}

A/N: I wanna thank (and give a lot of credit) to to absolutely awesome friend @multific, who helped me with a lot of ideas, and also with the final editing of the text. Love you, girl!!

×

How It Begins

Walking around is hard now. You're way too heavy, only a month away from finally meeting your baby. The bets are going wild, and the group is divided fifty-fifty. You think it's a boy, and Daryl thinks it's a girl. And you have a bet of your own.

With a hand on your belly, you approach the house, on the furthest side of Alexandria, taking the keys from your pocket and unlocking the bars. The metal is fixated on the structure of the house, surrounding it completely. It was Rick's idea, and as soon as it was ready, he was moved from his cell. He can't leave, that's the agreement, but at least he has some comfort, even though you're not sure if he deserves it.

“Dad?” You ask before you hear something falling on the kitchen and making your way over there. It doesn't take much until the smell of something burning hits your nose. “What are you doing?”

“Cooking.” He simply says, turning around and looking at you. With a dishcloth over his shoulder and a pan on his hand, Negan smiles.

“More likely trying to set the kitchen on fire.” You complain as you move to sit on the table, a hand on your swollen belly. “Quit trying to recreate mom's recipe. You know you can't.”

“The more you try to stop me, the harder I'll try. My grandchild will eat those cookies.”

Giggling, you roll your eyes. “How is your day going so far?” Visiting Negan is a daily thing. He's imprisoned for life, but he doesn't seem too bothered by it. You do manage to get him out every once in a while to walk around the neighborhood, but always with an armed guard. Rick, Michonne, Jim, or even Daryl. The last option is always fun because he enjoys making Daryl uncomfortable with way too many questions about your life together. But even though this is his prison, Negan seems satisfied, as he said himself. He wants to be around you, and his grandchild. He wants to be part of your lives, even though he's still paying for his crimes.

“Good. Finished another book. Quite mad I'll never have a sequence since the author is probably a walker by now, and even if he isn't I don't think he'd lose his time writing it.” Putting the pan in the sink, he comes to the table and sits next to you. “And this little one? Agitated much?” He places a hand on your belly, making a funny face. “Are you letting mommy sleep? Or are you shooting crossbows in there?”

“He loves crossbowing in the nighttime when I want to sleep.” You giggle, running a hand through your hair. “This kid will be a hurricane.”

“What did you expect by mixing your genes with Dixon's?”

“I'm a Dixon too, you know that, right?” Rolling your eyes, you smile.

“Yeah. I remember something about a marriage nobody told me about.”

“Drop the drama, dad.”

“I–”

“(Y/N)?” You hear him calling at the same time you hear the front door opening. “M��� back.”

“Seriously? You're eight months pregnant and he's still going on runs?” Negan asks as you stand up, quickly helping you.

“I needed some things from Hilltop.” You explain as Daryl comes to the kitchen, eyeing Negan before looking down at you. You don't think they hate each other, but they're certainly not friends.

“I got what ya need.” He tells you. “And I won't be goin’ anywhere else for a long time.”

“You better not,” Negan warns.

“Alright, alright.” Touching your father's shoulder, you sigh. “I'll go now. Why don't you cook something other than coal so we can have dinner together, huh?”

“Carbonara?”

“Carbonara.” You agree, kissing his cheek. “Bye, dad.”

“Take care.”

“I will.” Taking Daryl's hand, you walk out, making sure to lock the house again.

Doing this wasn't easy, but it works. The Saviors still obey Negan, so they left. The workers stood in the Sanctuary, and they're rebuilding it, under Rick's leadership. If anyone rises on Negan's name, the man himself will tell them not to. And if they don't give up their idea, someone will shut them up.

Alexandria is thriving, prospering, alongside the other communities. Hilltop, Oceanside, the Kingdom, and the Sanctuary working together to achieve one goal. Rebuild society. Live, instead of just survive. You're seeing the start of everything, your baby will see it play out, and God only knows what your grandchildren will see. Whatever it is, it'll be great.

“Yer silent,” Daryl says as you walk inside, already back home. “What are ya thinkin’ about?”

“A little bit of everything, I think.” Still pulling him with you, you guide him upstairs, where your sit on the edge of the bed. “Life, us, the baby... What this world will become and who our son will become.”

“Or daughter.”

“Or daughter.” You decide to agree, rolling your eyes. “Are you excited? Only around a month to go. Doc says maybe three weeks.”

“Ya have no idea how much.” He sits beside you, a hand on your belly. As if the baby knows, he kicks, and you fix your eyes on Daryl, admiring his smile. This smile belongs to you alone. To you and your baby, because nothing else can make him smile like this.

“Someone's saying hi.” You sing-song.

“Hi, little ass-kicker. Cozy in there?” He talks to the bump, and you can't help but chuckle. “Is mommy a good house for ya?” The baby kicks again, and you gasp. “I guess that's a yes.”

“I freaking love you, Daryl.” You decide to say, just because you need to let him know that. Every day, over and over again. “So much.”

“Ya gave things I never thought I'd have. Things I don't think I deserve. Love, a family... Yer everything ta’ me, (Y/N). My sunshine.” Leaning closer, he kisses you, slow and sweet, a hand caressing your cheek. “The two of ya are my whole world. Now and forever.”

“You saved me, you know that, right? When I saw you in that cell... I think you saved me as much as I saved you.”

“We saved each other.” He says, kissing your nose. “And because of ya I'm the happiest man alive.”

Biting your lip, you feel yourself blushing. “Than kiss me again, Dixon.” You challenge, blushing a little bit more when he does just that, kissing you with all the love he has.

People say this is how the world ends, but you disagree. This is how your life begins, and you're in love with it. And you will live. For your husband, for your child, your father, and your family. The one you chose, and who chose you. This is not the end, it could never be. This world is still full of life, and you're the proof.

×

@riverscyberwife @spenciepoo338 @beatitlikeabongodrum @amberritonicole @totheonethatloveshernext @the-artistic-animal @shatteredlovesick @cole22ann @thecraziestcrayon @cloud-laufeyson @arthurdeservedbetterrip @greeneyedladysthings @ruinedbythehobbit @large-juice

#daryl imagine #imagine daryl #daryl x y/n #daryl x you #daryl x reader #imagine daryl dixon #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon imagine #imagine the walking dead #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead fanfiction

[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)

#daryl dixon #norman reedus #the walking dead #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon twd #daryl twd #twd daryl dixon #daryl x you #daryl x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x yn #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl oneshot #norman reedus x reader #twd smut #daryl smut #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl drabbles #daryl dixon fanfics #daryl fluff #daryl angst #daryl x fem!reader #daryl dixon x yn #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x fem!reader

[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."

#daryl dixon smut #daryl x reader #daryl dixon #twd daryl #twd x reader #daryl dixon x reader #x reader #daryl imagines #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n

[natti-ice]

18+ mdni

a/n: this is a edited version of an old post of mine!

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡

You riding on top of him rocking back and forth on his dick taking every inch of him, you’re in complete euphoria, one hand on his chest for balance while you use the other to circle your clit. You can feel yourself getting close, you keep your pace focusing on cumming. He watches himself disappear inside of you, when your hand catches his eye. He lightly grabs your wrist pulling you out of your daze.

“Let me taste you” he says in a husky voice

You smirk before pulling your hand from your clit and bring your fingers up to his mouth. You lightly brush them against his lips before slipping them into his mouth, he immediately starts sucking on them bobbing his head back and forth, his tongue dances on the pads of your fingertips.

This made you even wetter if that was even possible, he slowly pulls your fingers out of his mouth making sure he didn’t miss anything

“Fuckin perfect.”

#natti’s 18+ #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #james potter x reader #rafe cameron x reader #jj maybank x reader #anthony bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #colin bridgerton x reader #rick grimes x reader #daryl dixon x reader #peter parker x reader #steve rogers x reader #finnick odair x reader #peeta mellark x reader #eddie diaz x reader #evan buckley x reader #bobby nash x reader #spencer reid x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #derek morgan x reader #luke alvez x reader #tom riddle x reader #natti’s imagines

[scudslut]

Sins and Honey Flavored Sweetness

daryl x fem!reader

wordcount: 4.7k

warnings: 18+, MDNI, smut under the cut, perv!daryl (not really, he just has a lil crush), male masturbation, unprotected p-in-v, oral f!receiving, mutual pining

a/n: i have never written something so descriptive ohmygod. do be warned lol, hugs and kisses byeee <33

Daryl knew there were unspoken boundaries when it came to you.

A thin line of loose salt, that whispered to him. Beckoned him huskily to dust his fingers through and have a taste, but daunting enough for him to keep his soles rooted in the dirt, salivating from a distance.

It wasn’t because you were already spoken for in any way; if anything, you kept your romantic interests simmering farther on the back burner than he did, which spoke volumes in itself. Or because you were younger than him, a couple of years wasn’t anything to turn a nose up over, especially nowadays.

It was, however, the place you held amongst your people. You were like bright, shiny gold within the group, dared not to be corrupted or led astray. The heart that kept everyone’s beating, even in the darkest of times, soothing hope into the atmosphere with your infectious smile.

Oh, and you were Rick's younger sister... which he hated to admit, only tempted him more. And he wasn’t quite sure as to why.

He’d mulled it over too many times to count, noting everything about you that allured him so intensely.

He liked the contrast between you two; like sun rays peeking through the clouds after a mid-summer storm. You were soft, fresh as clean linen and he was dark, brooding. He often fantasized about taking that sweet innocent nature of yours and painting it with his essence. He knew it was wrong and constantly shamed himself for having such perverted thoughts about his best friend's sister. But, god, how could he not?

Not when you pranced around him daily, teasing him with your velvety, feminine voice and kind touches. Touches that sent brisk shivers down his spine, sure to leave him breathless and bothered — another thing he secretly liked. You were addictive in that sense, he’d distance himself the minute he felt the familiar rush coursing through his veins and then crave it immediately once it was gone. A drug he couldn’t help but relapse from.

And it didn’t help that you were always so keen to assist him, doting on his every injury or problem with such gentle attentiveness and sincerity. That might be what he liked the most. It was fascinating how pure you remained in a world so plagued, always ready to nurture. It soothed a deep, restless, and scarred part of him, finding solace in it.

He'd come to learn you were like that with everyone though. So, he found himself grappling with things to deter your attention his way, playing dumb and clumsy just to have your sweet scent fill the nearby air. He felt like a horny teenager with a hopeless crush. It was absolutely ridiculous and yet, here he was once again, feet dangling off your kitchen counter as you searched the cabinets for some aspirin to aid in his 'headache'. 

It wasn't a complete lie per se - his sensitivity to light gave him troubles quite often but, whether it was enough to complain about or not, could be debated.

Nonetheless, he sat for you patiently, listening to your quiet humming as you searched about. He loved when you did that, singing your soft melodies under your breath mindlessly. It was such a girly thing to do, but it was comforting in a way, an airy blanket warming the silence.

"Ah, here it is!" drew him out of his thoughts, and he cast a glance at your bright smile of accomplishment. You popped the cap open swiftly, shaking out 2 little white pills, and handed them over with a glass of water.

“Let me know if you need any more. They should kick in soon, but I know how tough migraines can be,” you soothed, your sympathy never faltering. He bowed his head quickly, not wanting you to see the flash of guilt that surely crossed it. "Thanks," he mumbled as he tossed his head back, swallowing them both with a shivered grimace.

Wiping the water droplets from his chapped lips, his eyes found yours again and noticed a small smirk hidden in your features. “What?”  

You let out a chuckle, reaching for the glass he held to wash, “Oh nothin’... just don’t think I’ve seen you cringe like that before, is all.” 

His brows furrowed at your statement, “So?” he questioned further.

“Walkers, blood, rotting flesh… never. But an itty bitty pill?” Your laugh grew louder, finding the situation even more amusing as you explained it to him. “Whatever,” he scoffed, hopping off the counter with a smirk. He knew you would be expecting him to leave after that, you had helped him with his ‘issue of the day’ and there was no reason to linger any further. But he did.

Daryl scanned your frame as you washed the few dishes that were in the sink, chewing on his thumb habitually. You wore a white, long-sleeve shirt with a faded band logo printed on the front and some beaten-up blue jeans that seemed to cup your ass perfectly.

His mind wandered before he could stop it, imagining how soft and warm your skin must be underneath all those clothes. How soft and warm your hands would be wrapped around him, or better yet, your pretty lips taking him deep with a moan. He felt his own jeans tighten slightly and quickly diverted his gaze to the floor, clearing his throat as if it would erase those thoughts from his brain.

“Something else you need, Daryl?” You glanced over your shoulder, wrists deep in soapy water. 

“Nah, uh, thanks. I’ll see ya later,” he said and beelined for the door praying to god you didn’t see his flushed face and half-hard cock poking through his pants. He was so fucked. Couldn’t even look at you anymore without sprouting boners and picturing you on them, milking him greedily. 

He rushed down the porch and across the lawn, bursting into his shared house with Carol just next door. He didn’t even glance toward the kitchen to see if his friend was home, desperate for a cold shower to level him out. The house was dead quiet anyway, leading him to assume Carol was out for the day.

"Such a fuckin idiot," he cursed himself under his breath as he made his way down the stairs to his room. You probably knew honestly. Could tell how pathetically bothered you got him, and just put on a friendly face to keep from embarrassing him.

He left the bathroom door open in his distress and hastily shed his clothing, stepping into the tepid water. Immediate relief flooded his senses, feeling the cool stream wash away the sweat and grime the day had caked on. Pouring some homemade soap he was given into his hand, he scrubbed at his skin, determined to rid himself of your previous interaction along with the dirty thoughts that plagued his mind. He shouldn’t be thinking about you that way, it just wasn’t in the cards.

For starters, you would have to want him too, (which he knew would never happen), and even if you did, how the ever living fuck would he explain that to Rick?

‘Oh hey Rick, I have a massive hard-on for yer sister, you okay with that?’ Fuck no. Just thinking about that conversation had him cringing in awkwardness and he shut the idea down instantly. 

But there you were still, invading his thoughts with your dreamy laugh and perky attitude. Why did you have to be such a goddamn tease?

He leaned forward, resting his hands on the wall trying to regain some composure. He gulped down deep breaths of moist air, willing his body to calm itself down, but it was fruitless. The image of your body, pushed up against the wall under his hands, wet and flushed, bubbled to the surface. He groaned. Daryl knew what he had to do. It wasn’t the first time he had gotten off thinking about you, and he damn well knew it wasn’t gonna be the last, but it still felt wrong each time, pumping his cock when you were just next door. His body craved the relief though, relief only indulgence could satisfy. 

He hissed as he dragged his fingers along his shaft, gripping at the base and beginning to pump slowly. He was painfully hard at this point, each squeeze raking shivers over his damp skin while he choked out quiet moans. With his opposite hand, he flicked the water to a warmer setting, pitifully hoping the heat and steam would resemble something close to your body against his. God, if only you were here.

He sped up, swiping his thumb over his sensitive tip with each pass, sending jolts throughout his body. “Oh, fuck,” he groaned deep and husky, not a care for the noise filling the empty house.

You were there, clear as day in his mind, moaning along with him as he pounded into you, cunt gripping him like a vice. Your breath was hot and pitchy against his ear as you begged him to fuck you harder, to go faster, to cum deep inside you. His cock twitched at that, he was already so close.

“Fuck, y/n, baby,” he whined, humping erratically into his long-forgotten hand. The muscles in his stomach quivered in bliss as he stroked himself, lost in his detailed imagination. You were cumming, trembling around him in languid spasms with his seed spilling out of you, and Daryl was over the edge, tossing his head back moaning your name as he unloaded, letting the steamy water wash it away. 

It took him a few minutes to recover, catching his breath slowly and trying to avoid the guilt that would soon be settling in. What would you think of him if you knew what he did behind muffled walls? How he thought of you in such dirty ways, when you’d only ever see him as a dear friend. He wondered what you might be doing now. Traipsing around your cozy home, oblivious to his rapid, lustful heart meters away.

The water was beginning to run frigid and he let out a defeated sigh. Absentmindedly, he reached past the curtain for a towel and stepped out, drying his hair off roughly and then wrapping the towel around his waist, turning to the bedroom for fresh clothes and much-needed sleep. His mind ached to be thoughtless, consumed by the abyss of unconsciousness.

He should have known the world stopped playing fair long ago.

In a single moment, his heart stopped and his stomach dropped to the fucking depths of hell.

There you stood, feet frozen to the floor with his crossbow in hand, like he willed you into existence. He stuttered, his mouth opening and closing like a blubbering fish. He was sure his eyes were the size of saucers, he could feel them ready to pop out of his skull and run away. There was no fucking way this was happening.

Several beats passed. The silence deafening between you both and for a moment, he honestly debated stepping back into the shower. Pretend you were a figment of his tortured imagination and just hope you’d go away. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d seen ghosts.

“You uh- you forgot your crossbow when you rushed out today,” you finally broke the silence, solidifying your genuine presence. He glanced down to the bow and then back at you, lost for words. Did you hear him? He moaned your goddamn name, quite a few minutes ago though… had you been standing there long? Were you angry?

His racing thoughts were interrupted when you stepped towards him, leaning the bow against the doorframe and moving closer. Instinctively, he took a step back, “Thanks,” he replied shakily, but you kept moving closer. He noticed your gaze then. It wasn’t on his face, but on his abdomen, at the hem of the damp towel hanging off of him. Your eyes had a gleam to them. Something dark and lustful.

No. Surely, he was reading you wrong. 

“Daryl,” you spoke, and he audibly gulped, nervousness and absolute embarrassment flooding his system, “is there something you need to tell me?” 

He didn’t answer you, instead deciding to burn a hole into the floor with his shame. He couldn’t look at you. You knew. You had heard him and were teasing him about it and here he was, a coward who couldn’t even admit to it. And you had every single right. He crossed that salty line years ago, with his first sinful thought about you. Feasted on it, deluding himself into thinking all was okay as long as his actions didn’t physically involve you.

He barely registered your advances when he finally raised his head. You were so close he could feel the heat of your breath against his burning skin, the luscious scent of vanilla and pine filling the air.

“Can I see?” you asked quietly.

He nearly choked on his own spit. Your hand was skimming along his stomach lightly, suggestively toying with the towel that covered him up. “Huh?” His mind was blank. 

“Can I see you?” you repeated, and all he could do was give you a curt little nod, not entirely sure what he was agreeing to just yet, but rendered acquiesced. Your hand pulled at the fabric softly, letting it drop to the floor revealing his manhood to your hungry eyes. Nothing was making any sense. Surely, you did not feel this way too. Surely.

There were those whispers again. He shouldn't have let you do that. He should be recoiling, shielding himself from your gaze but he was statuesque, like you had drank the life out of him with one simple look.

"Were you thinking about me touching you?" Like you had to even ask. The answer was written in plain sight, right there on his forehead and in his bashful eyes.

"M'sorry, I-" he had no clue how to even begin this kind of apology, remorse coursing through his veins rapidly. The dots weren’t connecting, not yet. "I know it's wrong, I shouldn't have-,”

And then he felt you, pressing your lips against his softly — timidly as gentle hands feathered across his waist, coaxing him into you. Your kiss was buttery, lips so smooth and sweet he wanted to drown in them. You tasted like fresh honey and vanilla ice cream, hints of minty toothpaste caught on your tongue. It was intoxicating to say the least, swarming his brain with a muted buzz and he whimpered, much to his surprise, melting into your touch quicker than he would like to admit.

“Y/n, y/n, nah we can’t,” he heard himself say as he came to his senses slowly, but he wasn’t pushing you away. Why wasn’t he pushing you away? You couldn’t, right?

“Please,” you whispered against him, low and sultry. Who was he to deny you? God Daryl, get a grip.

“Y/n, no,” he repeated, allowing his tone to take some authority even if that was the last thing he truly wanted. You stepped back from him then, a hurt expression painting your features and he felt his heart squeeze. “Why?”

His brain was scattered. This felt like a nightmare; another cruel joke sent his way to haunt him for the rest of his life. There just always had to be a price, didn't there?

"He doesn't mind, you know?" you whispered and his eyes were on yours instantly. You traced soft shapes across his stomach, sending those shivers down his spine and effectively turning him into putty.

"What’re ya talkin' about?" He needed to regain his composure, he could barely breathe with you this close, eyes raking his naked frame with desire.

"Rick... you and me. He doesn't care," you stated, "thinks it's cute actually... my crush on you."

Your crush on him?

"He trusts you, Daryl, with everything. You're pretty much the only person he would want me to be with." He hadn't thought of it that way, only ever assumed voicing his attraction to you would result in his head on a platter, or his dick… or both.

You began peppering his neck with small kisses, trailing them down his chest and over his puffy nipples. He hissed when you nipped at one, licking over it after, soothing the burn. "Ya sure?"

You nodded.

"Ya sure ya want me?" he asked dubiously. His question was answered when you grabbed his hand gently, guiding it inside your cotton underwear, letting his calloused fingers trace your soaked folds. He could have cum then and there, spreading your slick up and down between his fingers like it was liquid gold. Fuck me.

"This all fer me?" he panted, succumbed to a state of disbelief at your evident arousal. You were so wet around his fingers, pulsing and bucking slightly with each feathered stroke. "Were ya listenin' ta me?"

Hair fell over your face as you nodded sheepishly, gazing down to watch his fingers massaging you. You bit your swollen, cherry-red lip, “Couldn’t help it, you sounded so- so good.”

Now that... that got him going. Imagining your pretty cunt dripping in your panties, listening to his gasps while he fucked himself to the thought of you. Who knew the golden girl would be so naughty?

Daryl felt his confidence build, watching you fall apart for him from such simple touches. The last wire holding him back snapped and he needed more. He had waited for this moment for so fucking long.

You whine as he retracts his hand, only to be completely shut up when he places the thick digit on his tongue, sucking greedily and sloppily. It was better than he ever could have imagined, similar to the honey of your lips but so much more sweet. He went back for seconds. And thirds. Until he was dropping to his knees, deciding to lick the goddamn plate clean.

You enveloped him in the best way possible, lifting one of your thighs over his shoulder as he tugged on your tight jeans, pulling them down enough to fit his head. His tongue pressed flat against your clothed pussy, and he sucked, tasting a mixture of your sweetness and residual laundry detergent on his tongue. His moans burned the back of his throat, desperately trying to hide them but you weren’t having it, tugging on his chocolate locks for more. “Don’t do that. I wanna hear you, honey.” Good lord. He silently thanked each lucky star of his that the house was empty before emitting a guttural groan between your thighs. If this was all he got from you, a little taste of the sugar you were made of, he would die a very happy man.

He took your clit between his lips, rolling it with his tongue. Your underwear was so wet with your arousal and his spit that it was practically see-through, just calling for him to pull aside. “Please,” you gasped.

“Hm? Wha’s that?”

He’d heard you just fine. He wanted to hear you again, and again. He was greedy and you were so damn sinful, “Please, need them off, need you.”

So, he complied, as any sane man would, shimmying them down your hips as he sucked and nibbled each inch of newly exposed skin. You watched him intently with half-lidded eyes, rocking slowly to let plush skin engulf his senses like a cloud. He felt you playing with his messy hair, taking small strands between your fingertips and moving them behind his ears to see him better. The gesture struck something deep within him. You were so kind, so focused on this moment and him, he’d be damned if he let it continue on the hard damp floor of his bathroom. No fucking way.

He stood abruptly, catching you off guard. “Bed,” he muttered, capturing your lips again in a haste. He couldn’t get enough. He didn’t want a minute to pass where he wasn’t tasting some part of you. Any part of you. Sweet, sweet honey.

You led your bodies backward till your knees hit the mattress, wasting no time as you crawled up to his pillows, taking him with you.

This moment right here, this feeling… he wanted to bottle it up. Freeze time and just stare, immerse himself into every tiny detail. It felt almost criminal to continue. You were a vision, panting and squirming beneath him; so much electricity and anticipation bouncing between your yearning bodies. Could you really want this just as much as he did? Was he truly that oblivious, all these years? Whatever that answer may be, he wasn’t gonna fuck this up. Not with you.

Your hands on his face coaxed him back to reality, molding into your touch like clay. Eager lips chased his as he pulled your shirt off and as much as he wanted to freeze time and memorize each freckle of you, the more skin each other touched the more obscene the kiss became. An unartistic jumble of spit and hands and moans and thrusts.

In all the time spent pining silently for the other, you both could care less about grace.

No, he needed to hear you. Listen to every octave of moan you had in you, all at once. He needed to know each and every spot that had you whimpering and begging, this second. If time did decide to stop at any given moment he needed to have you, be you, feel everything you had to offer, and soak in it till his skin pruned.

His lips sucked and bruised their way down to your navel, and then past, kissing up your folds with lustful intent. The sounds you made above him had him seeing stars and he wanted more. His tongue slipped past your lips, finally diving into the hive of your sweetness, rolling his tongue languidly over your clit. Your hands were everywhere around him, fisting at the sheets, the pillows, and then his hair as you desperately tried to push him closer. He didn’t mind. He’d gladly suffocate between your thighs, a death he’d welcome compared to the ones he fought from outside every day.

He dove lower, smoothing his tongue over your entrance but not delving past quite yet.

“Daryl,” you gasped above him.

Looking up between your legs, he caught a glimpse of your face tossed back in pleasure and he groaned, having to ground his hips into the mattress below to relieve some pressure. “What d’ya need, sweetheart?”

He’d give you anything. The moon if you asked for it — anything to keep those pretty sounds coming from your lips. “You, you, please you.”

“How so?”

He knew he was teasing you. He’d drawn back from your glistening slit, pressing little pecks everywhere that he could reach. Your hips, your pelvis, the little crease between your thighs and your cunt. That spot drew a deep moan from you, so he focused on it, sucking and licking till it was bright red and your hips were rolling so violently he wasn’t sure how he kept his lips on you.

“In, please,” you choked out, tugging him by his shoulders to move back up. He wasn’t done yet.

“What? Ma fingers?” he toyed further, continuing his kisses everywhere but where you wanted him. “Hm?”

He brought his thumb up to your clit, pressing lightly at first, rubbing lazy, torturous circles. His lips were on the inside of your thigh, so close to your entrance but seemingly so far. He knew you wouldn’t take much more of this, you were practically sobbing above him blubbering nonsensical curses about how much you ached.

“This pretty cunt wanna be filled, that it?”

His thumb pressed firmer.

“Uh huh,” you nodded, begging him. Oh, that sound would surely be the death of him.

He finally brought his lips to your supposedly aching entrance, delving deep with his tongue. The noises he made as he lapped on your honey were flat-out pornographic, and you writhed below him, drinking everything he was giving to you. Honestly, he didn’t know how much more he could take. He wanted to draw this out for hours, make up for every bit of lost time but seeing you like this, so needy for him had his resolve shattering by the second.

With a final peck to your weeping folds, he crawled his way up back to your face. You latched on to him instantly, sensing his give and taking absolute advantage of your moment. His hips rolled into yours slowly as your tongues danced and he hardly had to guide himself with how wet you were, his tip finding your entrance easily and slipping past. You moaned rolling your hips again and he nearly bottomed out, a long deep groan ripping out of him. If he thought your lips were buttery, lord save him.

Perching himself on his forearms, he held still, watching for any signs of discomfort. He assumed you hadn’t been with anyone in a while and he certainly knew he wasn’t small, if he’d grace himself with any sort of compliment.

Sensing nothing but pleasure as your walls pulsed around him, sucking him in further, he gave, snapping his hips harshly into you. Your moans were lewd on his lips, traveling down his throat and feeding the fire that burned in the pit of his stomach.

“Fuck, y/n, baby,” he groaned again, spiraling from the fact he was actually inside you this time. Not in his hand, pretending you were fucking shower water.

No, you were beneath him, latching onto his muscles like your life depended on it. He drove deeper, hitting a spot that had you gasping for air. He hit it again, and again, needing to feel you explode around him. He watched as your face contorted in pleasure as he pounded into you. God, you looked so pretty like this. All cock-drunk and needy.

He brought his thumb back to that spot on your clit. He needed you to cum soon, he wasn’t gonna last much longer seeing you like this and there was no way in hell he was going to finish before you. Your hips stuttered beneath him, walls squeezing around him and he knew you were close.

“Come on, pretty girl, you got it,” he whispered in your ear, sucking the lobe gently between his teeth. That must’ve broken you, because then you were cursing, spasming for him which triggered his own orgasm. Your cunt milked him, his seed spilling down your thighs exactly how he had pictured earlier and it was a fucking sight. He honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he had imagined this whole thing.

He fucked out both through the waves of release, and a bit past, dropping his head into your neck to muffle the obscene groans coming from his lips. He didn’t want it to stop, but your overstimulated senses ached for reprieve.

“Dar?” you whispered once you'd both caught your breath, guiding his stubbled cheek from its hiding spot. When his eyes met yours, they were filled with so much adoration and happiness he had to hold himself back from whimpering. Never in a million years would he thought he’d get you, and here you were, looking at him like the sun shone out of his ass. The same way he looked at you for years, it was jarring to see it reciprocated. How had he missed it?

You leaned forward, tenderly capturing his lips with your own, soothing him as you always did. He knew there was so much you wanted to say, that he wanted to say, but you didn’t need to talk about it tonight. Tonight you would simply soak in each other, a gift you both thought you’d never get and one you would never let go.

He felt you giggle against his lips, and he pulled back with a lazy, fucked-out smile, "What?" he mumbled curiously.

"How's the headache now, big guy?" you teased playfully and he realized then, you'd known he was fibbing today. Saw right through his measly excuse to spend time with you.

He blushed to the tips of his ears, bowing his head to hide it, "Oh, shuddup," he mumbled, attacking your neck in kisses and nips.

Your cheeky ass was gonna pay for that tonight.

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl imagines #daryl dixon smut #daryl x reader #norman reedus #daryl dixon drabbles #twd drabbles #fem!reader #twd daryl #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl smut #norman reedus smut #y/n grimes #daryl x grimes reader #twd smut #daryl twd #twd fanfiction

[mvth3r]

thinking about daryl giving you a nickname…

18+, mdni

AN: this was a midnight brain worm while i was working on something else, so just walk with me ok!

daryl wasn't really one for nicknames.

he'd never had one coming up, always just "daryl" or "merle's brother" or something else sneered and distasteful. that was fine with him. to daryl, nicknames were rooted in sarcasm and mean jokes.

it hadn't started any differently with you.

that day in the quarry way back, the morning after the walkers had attacked their people. daryl was already aggravated, sweaty and thinking about merle (alone and hurt and alone), and he didn't much like these fucking people anyway, so when you stood with glenn, insisting on a burial over burning, dried tear tracks on your face (those people were your people too. you were mourning with the rest of them), he didn't hold back, sneering "well ain't you just a fuckin' peach," and watching your face harden in the wake of his words.

daryl didn't mean for it to stick, but he found himself defaulting to the silly name anyway. first when he was annoyed at you. you were soft, unfit for the grime of this new world, then when he was poking fun, and eventually... something else.

in the cdc, with a hangover keeping you slumped over the table, "shoulda stayed out the bottle if ya couldn't handle it, peach."

over the long winter on the road, with barely any food or water, "keep up, peach, i ain’t gon’ carry you.”

in the prison, sharing shifts up in the watchtower (because you were sort of friends now) (because daryl felt almost rewarded when your eyes lit up at your nickname), "don't need to teach you on the bow, peach. you're just fine with a knife."

trapped in the train car in terminus, fussing over his injuries even though you could barely map him out in the dark, "peach. peach. quit it, ‘m alright."

the road to alexandria was long and brutal. 'peach' turned into your name and your name turned into silence. daryl was grieving, you were grieving, and the space between you felt like a chasm, dark and wide. finding that community was a blessing in disguise, not just for the group, but for you and daryl specifically. you came back together behind the walls, both unwilling to acclimate, but knowing you needed to try.

‘peach’ made its way back into circulation slowly and then so frequently that even the alexandrians began to catch on.

when daryl had to leave with aaron for a run, “later, peach. i’ll find ya after your shift.”

laughing over your assigned job, “the hell you know about gardenin’, peach? they shoulda put ya in the tower.”

inevitably your relationship shifted into something more intimate. it wasn’t a secret, hell, the group had seen it coming long ago.

‘peach’ stopped being a nickname and became a term of endearment. something daryl reserved for tender moments.

startling awake when daryl joined you in bed, late after a long run, “just me, peach, go back to sleep.”

when you came back from a run that turned dicey, a little worse for wear, “lemme see it, peach, i got ya.”

and in… other moments as well.

your body pressed firmly against daryl's, his lips a breath from yours, whispering, “tell me what ya need, peach. you know i’ll give it to ya.”

daryl laid between your legs, two fingers curling cruelly against your g-spot while you rode out your orgasm above him, “there ya go, peach, so fuckin’ good.”

daryl had never been one for nicknames, this fact held up even after the world ended. your own family was rarely on the receiving end of a playful moniker. but to him, ‘peach’ was easy as breathing and, to you, it sounded like “i love you” every time.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl x reader #twd imagine

[dirtydixonsgirl]

Daryl gets flustered seeing y/n thong when she bends over and needs her now. Established relationship, jealousy, mostly gentle but sub reader, extra points for ass man Daryl. <3

Can you grab this for me?

A/N: love this idea❤️ thanks for requesting, love writing for you all!

WARNINGS: unprotected sex, fingering, teasing, yeah yeah yeah 18+

“Daryl!” You yell out, your voice echoing through the empty abandoned house.

You waited, arms reaching, standing on your tippy toes trying to reach a can of food in the cabinet of the house you and Daryl were searching. The counter was filled with trash and covered in dust leaving no room for you to be able to jump onto the counter in your usual manner in times like this.

“Daryl!” You call out once more, irritation lacing your tone this time.

You hear a thump from the upstairs before he comes flying down the steps to your rescue, fear suddenly coursing through him. He stops abruptly, watching you try to jump up to reach something in the cabniet, just hoping your finger tips would be able to touch it.

He couldn’t help but notice everytime you jumped your shirt rose up slightly, revealing the straps of a red thong, siting just above the hem of your jeans on your hips, his face instantly curling up into a smirk, your head snaps back to his, you were frustrated, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Are you just going to stand there and stare at me or are you going to help me grab this?” You snap, wondering why a shit eating grin was covering his face.

Daryl snorts at your attitude. Suddenly feeling the blood from his cheeks rush to his lap at the thought of you bent over that counter in that very sexy red thong.

“Oh, I’ll help ya grab somethin’.” He smirks, slapping your ass and giving it a slight squeeze emitting a small yelp out of you.

“Daryl!” You swat at him.

He effortlessly reaches up grabbing the can, handing it to you. Your cheeks red at his actions. You mumble a small thank you suddenly feeling shy as you lean down, pulling your bag from beside the counter and putting the food in it.

Once again, in Daryls favor you flash him with your thong once more.

“How many times ya gonna flash me with these?” He asks, his fingers catching the string of them and letting it snap back against your skin. “You been wearin’ these all day?”

You try to stand up but his hands instantly push your back down, leaving you bent over in front of him. Your breathing hitches when a pair of warm hands catches your hips, touching the exposed skin from your shirt raising up.

“Y-yes.” You stutter suddenly feeling stupid, you didn’t even realize that you have most likely been flashing people all day,

The jealously was surging over Daryl. He kept thinking about everytime you bent over who was looking at you and who saw what was only his to see? The thought made him want to go home and beat every man at Alexandria bloody.

“M’ the only one who gets ta see this.” He rubs his hands down to your ass, smacking it again. “Ain’t that right?”

“Yes, Daryl.” You breathe. “All yours.”

Daryl knew exactly how to get you to fall apart in his hands, sometimes with a single touch. It was one of things you hated most about your relationship with him, how at anytime, anywhere, you were ready for him.

His fingertips softly ghosting your skin, he runs them over your sides to your stomach, unbuttoning your jeans.

“Daryl,” you stop him, grabbing his wrist. “What if someone sees? Rick and Michonne-“

“Don’t care.” He says unphased. “Need ya, so bad.”

You slowly let go of him with shaky hands, you shiver against his touch, revealing in it. Your eyes close as his hand dips into your jeans, his finger tips running up and down the already wet thinned cloth of your thong.

“Shit, Y/N.” He grunts. “Yer already so wet and I ain’t even done nothing to ya.”

You blush. “Always ready for you, Dar.”

You could feel his erection against your ass making you more needy. You try to wiggle onto to him but his hand stops you smacking you harshly, you whimper.

“Needy little slut ain’t ya?” He chuckles.

“I need you, please.” You pant.

Oh, he needed you more. He thought. Your clit was now throbbing, you were basically dripping, you knew by now your panties were drenched. You were aching for him in every way.

His finger dips inside your thongs, you gasp as his finger tip runs up and down your wet slit, easily moving. He’s teases your enterance making you groan in frustration.

“Don’t be a tease.” You breathe, voice hoarse and needy.

“Oh like how you been today?”

Your head falls in pleasure as he gives in, easing one thick finger inside you, stretching you out. He continuously hits your sweet spot deep inside you. Your hips buck back to him, causing him to add another finger, you moan. Your thighs start to shake as your body starts reaching your climax, not being able to hold yourself up much longer.

“Daryl, I-I’m-“ you moan, your walls convulsing around him. “Gonna cum.”

Daryl smirks, suddenly his hand come out of your pants, fingers covered in your arousal. You clench around nothing, still throbbing. Aggravation floods your body. Your body turns to face him quickly, pushing his shoulders back, he doesn’t even budge.

“What the fuck was that for?” You snap.

“Not coming unless it’s on my cock, pretty thing.” He says, pulling you back into him. “Only I can take care of ya pretty little pussy, remember that.”

Your anger fades away as his lips attack your neck, softy and gently. You quickly break the kiss to yank your pants off, he unbottons his quickly. His hands go underneath your thighs signaling you to jump which you do, he catches you with ease, backing you up against the closest wall.

Your throw your arms around his neck as he kisses your neck again, he grabs his erection putting it against your soaking wet entrance, his tip rubbing up and down your slit, you whimper, your grasp tightening on him.

“Ready?” He whispers and you nod.

He flexes his hips, his erection sliding into you, filling you up. He grunts as he bottoms out, you gasp, enjoying the feeling of him stretching you out as pleasure shoots across your body.

“Fuck,” he grunts, his rythym speeding up. “Miss ya tight little pussy so much.”

“Ah,” you moan, burying your face into his warm neck.

His hips continue to rock into you, pushing you harder up against the wall. The wet sounds filling the air. He felt amazing in you causing you to throw your head back against the wall.

“Dar,” you whimper. “You feel so g-good.”

“Yeah baby?” He says through clenched teeth.

Your legs wrap around him tighter, you could’ve sworn you felt him in your belly. His breathing labored, you clench around him, pulsing. Your hands twist in his hair causing him to groan in pleasure. You snap, your climax coating him as he releases inside you.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, breathing heavily into your neck. “Fucking hell.”

“That was,” you start, your breathing matching his. “That was amazing.”

He pulls out, leaving you empty, missing the feel of him. He sets you down and your legs wobble a bit and he catches you quickly, steadying you. You giggle as you hold onto his wrists.

“Can ya walk?” He grins, full of pride.

“What can I say, Dixon? It’s all your fault.” You smile.

You slip your pants back on, along with your thong, feeling the sweet stickiness from his climax dripping out of you, you groan, the sticky feeling between your thighs being too much.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re dripping out of me, literally.”

He laughs pulling you into him, sweetly kissing your lips and tapping your butt before releasing you.

“What can I say? It’s all your fault.”

#daryl dixon #norman reedus #daryl dixon imagine #twd #twd imagine #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon twd #rick grimes #daryl dixon x female reader #smut #daryl dixon x reader #norman reedus smut #smutty #daryldixon #twd daryl #twd daryl dixon #twd smut

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

please please please PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE.

#norman reedus #norman reedus x reader #norman reedus smut #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon smut

[deansapplepie]

Period .

Summary: The one time you were glad you had your period, and the one time you weren’t.

Warnings: young Daryl (just in the first part), mentions of pregnancy, period, blood, sexual themes, mentions of creampie, mentions of impregnating, little angsty in the end. Minors do not Interact, 18+.

A/N: it was supposed to be a small drabble, but it turned out longer than I imagined. 🤭 Period is something important in the story, but the main focus is really about pregnancy.

Also, there’s no smut just little thoughts of Daryl.

The Quarry, Atlanta

You were fucked you knew you were, but so was Daryl and that was the problem. You had been dating for only a few months before the outbreak and even though your relationship was new, you knew his temper pretty well being neighbors for many years.

Your period was late, it already was when the world ended, but just a few days, so you didn’t worry about it. Now, it had been almost a month and you were worried as fuck. You tried to fake normalcy, pretend there wasn’t anything wrong. But your constant lip biting and unquiet legs denounced to the hunter how nervous you were. “Spill it.” He said.

“What?” He took you by surprise, you were so into in your mind that you didn’t even know he had been observing for the last half hour.

“There’s somethin’ worrying ya. Just say it.” He didn’t take his eyes from you as he waited for you ti say something.

“My period. It’s late. I’m worried.” You threw averting his eyes.

In his mind a million of thoughts were running, but mainly 1. why did you have to feel so amazing wrapped around him that sometimes he couldn’t just control himself and just finish inside of you? 2. why did he still used no condoms? 3. he couldn’t be a father, he didn’t have this ability.

“Just that?” He asked nonchalantly pretending it didn’t affect him. “Want me to go to town and pick a pregnancy test?”

You looked at him amused. How could he be so calm when you were panicking? Part of you were glad he wasn’t fuming in rage like you imagined he would be, but the other part was frustrated with him acting like it was nothing. “Seriously?” You gave him an incredulous look. “Don’t need to. Let’s wait a little more.” You got up and left to the lake, frustrated, fuming and just needing to calm yourself down.

Days passed and nothing happened. Until the day Daryl woke up tired of not knowing if he would have to raise a child in this fucked up world or not. When you woke up he was already brewing something on the fire, Merle with him. “I’m going to town. Want something?” He asked.

“What are you going to do in town?” You didn’t understand, you had everything. Food and hygiene supplies, what else could you need?

“I’m gonna get the thing. We already waited too much.” He seemed nervous, finally one small demonstration of feelings.

“Are ya two gonna talk in codes now?” Merle complained feeling left out.

You ignored him and replied Daryl. “Ok. Just let me go the bathroom, gonna think if we need anything else.” You left in the direction of the RV, not everyone used it, but most of you. Especially the women and the kids, Daryl and Merle preferred to go into the woods as to not get the dirty looks everyone gave them, but you were different, you were polite and would smile sometimes. Also, you got along well with Dale and the women in the camp.

You distributed ‘good mornings’ along the way and when you got to the RV you encountered Dale, Ami and Andrea having breakfast. You greeted them and excused yourself to the bathroom, and there it was… your answer. No test needed. A pool of blood on your panties. You felt wet earlier, but the last weeks you felt it many times and it was always nothing, so you didn’t mind. You were relieved. The world was pure chaos and you couldn’t imagine raising a child in it. Yet, there was an uneasy feeling inside of you.

You went back to your tent and the small fire the brothers had done. “You don’t need to go.” It was as the only thing you said.

“Ugh?” He grunted confused.

“I’m on my period.” You said, and fuck if Merle was listening.

“Were ya talking in codes because ya thought you were pregnant?” Merle almost yelled. “And you were hiding it from me? The uncle?”

“Shut up Merle, nobody needs to know, and stop complaining about an inexistent baby.” You answered mood swinging immediately. There it was, you had seen the signals, you just didn’t want to read them.

Daryl stayed silent while you went inside the tent to take clean panties, pads or tampons to change. When you came out Daryl was the same way he was before, millions of thoughts inside his head.

“Are you going to say something or are you going to pretend there wasn’t anything going on just like when I told you my worries?” You snapped, the last days you had thought over and over again about his non reaction the day you told him, and that’s not that you wanted him to have fought or screamed at you, you didn’t, but you wanted him to share his worries with you and to be able to share yours with him.

“What do ya want me to say?” He asked, dryly. “Thank God? ‘Cause I don’t believe in one. Or do you want me to say I feel really sorry ‘cause we’re not putting a child in this fucked up world?” He had snapped. You were angry at him, but at least it was a reaction of some sort.

“You’re an asshole.” You threw at him and left, he thought about retorting you with a sassy answer, but he bit his tongue.

“Ya messed bad, lil bro… ya know nothing about women. How was ya able to catch a girl like her?” Merle couldn’t contain his mouth and spoke.

“Shut up, Merle! Mind your own business!” He replied, taking his things and living grumpily.

Later that day he returned with chocolate and painkillers, which he left on your side of the sleeping bed without saying anything.

Alexandria, Virginia

You were out in the woods, close to Alexandria. You had been hunting with Daryl, your husband. Yes, your husband. So many things have changed along the years, that some times you couldn’t believe how things were different. But one thing hadn’t change, you were still reckless about sex, not that you had options to prevent a pregnancy in the end of the world.

And that was the reason you were distracted while you hunted, also the reason you were not being silent like he taught you to be and were cracking every and all stick on the way. “Wha’s the problem, sweetheart?” He stopped and turned to you.

Distracted, you continued to walk and bumped into him. “Sorry.” You looked up at him and saw concern in his eyes.

“What’s troubling ya?” He asked his hands resting on your shoulders. “And don’t try to lie, I know ya.”

You sighed. “I’m late.” You’ve been late many times during the time you and Daryl have been together, but most of the times your worries would be taken away as soon as they started to build. But that time at the quarry and now, it had been a long time.

Now he already knew what you meant, and it didn’t worry him this much anymore. To be honest, he even thought about impregnating you during the last years. It all started when his Lil Ass Kicker was born, and then how he saw you taking care of her and interacting with kids. So… he considered having kids with you many times.

“Just that?” He threw the same question back at that day in the quarry. Anger started bubbling in you and then he just stroke you with his words. “Ya shouldn’t worry. If it happens, we’ll take responsibility and do our best. It’s our baby we’re talking about.”

“Daryl… aren’t you mad? Or worried?” You looked at him disarmed now that you realized he wasn’t going to be a dick.

“If ya’re expecting, I helped making this baby and I dun think it would be so terrible the idea of having a baby made of us.” Yeah, you had all changed a lot. You didn’t know one day you could desire him even more, but just the thought of him thinking it wouldn’t be bad to have babies with you… made you want to jump on him.

“Should we grab a pregnancy test with Denise or something?” You suggested grabbing one of his hands.

“Let’s wait a little more and I take them.” He started to walk and intertwined your fingers. “Now, let’s hunt dinner.”

Daryl had finally gone on a run to find some pregnancy tests, Denise unfortunately had none. When he arrived he hoped to see you in the kitchen with Carol, but his friend was alone. She saw his confused face and she knew he was looking for you. “She’s at the bedroom. She arrived and a little while after… she didn’t look well. I think you should see her.” Carol advised him. She knew there was something upsetting you and she was almost sure of what it was, but you had said nothing to her, so she decided it was better to not push.

“Thanks, ‘m gonna check on her.” He said before he left to your shared bedroom.

After he descended the stairs to your room in the basement, he found you on bed laying on your side. He kicked his shoes off before joining you in bed. “Hey babe”

“Hey” you replied and didn’t turn to look at him.

He laid on his side, spooning you and sneaking his arm around you. He rested his hand on your lower stomach, an habit he had developed recently. He’d do it when you got your period and felt cramps, but in the last days he had done it for another reason. “Can you take your hand from there?” You asked.

“Why? Don’t ya wanna me to touch ya?” He wanted to understand what was troubling your mind.

“There’s nothing there. Just my uterus. My stupid bleeding uterus.” Here it was. He wouldn’t deny he was a little upset, he had some hope on you being pregnant. He was even excited.

“Ok. Look at me.” He turned you so you’d be facing him. You had teary eyes and a small pout on your lips. “You wanted this baby, didn’t ya?”

“Is it this obvious?” Yes, it was. It was visible on your face.

“I wanted it too.” He confessed, his fingers running on your hair.

“I’ve been wanting for a long time already… since Jude was born and I saw her in your arms. When I have Jude in my arms or little Hershel, I wish I had a baby.” While you spoke, your eyes welled with tears and they started falling.

He gently wiped your tears, he could understand your feelings in his own way, because he felt them too. “Me too. When I see you with the kids, I wish we had one.” ‘And to put a baby inside of you’, completed in his mind. “Do ya want me to give you a baby?”

Your eyes sparkled at his words, and it wasn’t just because of the tears threatening to fall again. “Would you?” You looked in his eyes and he felt like you could see his soul. But, yes… you could. You could always see him, even when he couldn’t.

“As many as ya want.” He said and the tears you were holding just bursted from your eyes. “Stop crying, I didn’t say it so you’d cry. If you continue to cry, I’m not giving ya babies…”

“Don’t you dare Daryl Dixon! I’m crying because I’m happy, ok?” You cupped his face with your hands, making a pout appear on his face.

“Ok.” He spoke the best he could with your hands cupping his face and restraining his lips from moving. You kissed his lips and released his face.

He brought you closer and hugged you, your face hiding on his chest. He was happy. You weren’t feeling like shit anymore, you were feeling like the luckiest woman in the damn end of the world.

You were trying for babies as soon as possible. That was what he thought, a smile on his face while he held you in his arms.

Wanna be added to my tag list? Let me know. (Please tell me if you want to be tagged on everything or just specific series) Everything Taglist: @lilyevanstan1325

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[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Exhausted, Daryl plodded down the stairs into his basement space. It was somewhere in the ballpark of 1 am and the house was dark and silent. The moon was full outside and the glow was enough through the little window in his room that he easily saw your sprawled form beneath the blankets in his bed and he smiled.

He did his best to be quiet, not to wake you up, as he stowed his gear and pulled on some clean clothes, but the way you were laying it was an inevitability. He sank down on the edge of the bed and reached over to stroke his fingers lightly through your hair. You stirred against the pillow and stretched a little before opening your eyes and looking up at him with a sleepy smile.

"Hi," you said, sleep swaddling your voice.

"Hey," he drawled quietly. "Sorry to wake ya up but uhh—where 'm I s'posed to sleep."

You rolled onto your side and looked at your place in the bed—legs sprawled from one bottom corner with your body laying diagonal across the opposite corner. You laughed lightly, a sound he adored and the glow of warmth in his chest radiated outwards. "I suppose I can scoot over for you," you said, shifting onto one pillow.

"Oh, thanks," Daryl drawled, his eyes crinkling in a soft smile. "Appreciate the favor." He settled down beside you and you immediately moved in against him, resting your head on his shoulder and relishing the feeling of his arms around you. "How the hell d'ya manage to take up a bed this big by yerself?" he asked, amusement in his drawl.

You sighed contentedly. "Guess you didn't read the special skills section of my resume," you joked. He chuckled. "It's actually a strategy. If you have to wake me up to fit in the bed, you can't sneak in here, and then I always get to see you when you come home."

Daryl felt a fluttering in his chest. He had someone who waited in his bed for him to get home. It was more than he ever expected to have in this life. His arms tightened around you in a gentle squeeze. He kissed the top of your head. "I love ya, ya know..." he murmured.

You smiled to yourself, your heart bursting. "I know. I love you too," you whispered back. And the two of you were asleep the next moment.

Prompt: "How the hell do you manage to take up a bed that big by yourself?"

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles

[gutsby]

Best Served Cold

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Since your fiancé can’t seem to keep his hands off of Lori, you decide Daryl is the perfect way to make him pay. Revenge sex has never felt so good.

Warning: NSFW. Attempted SA. Unprotected p-in-v. I don’t condone cheating (unless it’s on abusers lol). Semi-public sex and getting caught doing it in a tent 🫣 Based on this kickass idea from @dilfsandmartinis (I'm so sorry it took this long for me to post the story) !! 💓

Your man returned to your tent that night like he did most others: slick with sweat and too tired for sex. At least not again, not with you. He would undoubtedly claim to have been checking the perimeter, standing guard like a good leader should, but any blind man in that quarry camp could’ve seen he was just boning Lori.

A lot.

You were really more offended that he thought you stupid enough to abide by his lies than the fact he was fucking someone else. That part wasn’t new—his dick never knew how to stay in one hole longer than a month or two—but in an apocalypse? With his newly-deceased best friend’s widow? That was low, even for Shane.

Which was why you felt no compunction yourself as you slipped quietly from your tent toward the water’s edge that night, pink vibrator clutched tightly in hand.

Useful little thing that it was, a six-setting suction device that worked wonders on your clit, even underwater. You figured since Shane couldn’t be bothered with you or your sexual pleasure so long as the former Mrs. Grimes was occupying his time, you’d make use of this sex toy instead and start really leaning into the “self care” you’d been craving for so long.

The water was warm all the way up to your chest, and the air around you tepid. You moved around, treaded in place, and finally reached comfortable bearings a couple yards from shore. You relished the solitude and silence.

The moment you felt the toy come to life in your hand, you couldn’t help but smile. Exhaling as you brought the tip close to your center.

“Shit.” Even the gentlest setting too harsh on your clit, you nipped your lower lip and bit back a whimper.

You swirled it lightly on your inner thigh, tried painstakingly as ever to acclimate yourself to the buzz of the rubber, but damn were you sensitive. Almost too tender to be touched, too ripe with excitement and aching for the feel of something on you, or in you, or just barely skimming the surface of your skin underwater.

A low moan escaped your lips the second the head drifted back to your clit. Your toes curled into rough, rocky terrain underfoot, and your breaths started to quicken. You made a gentle motion with your hips—a sweet, semi-circular thing you’d been doing over Shane’s lower half as long as you could remember—begging for more friction, needing more of that mechanical hum.

You pressed the button for a higher setting. The peaks of your pleasure soared to new heights.

You were helpless to the trembling of your knees and felt immensely grateful for the water’s aid in keeping you straight. You pressed the rounded tip of the toy even tighter to your core and didn’t heed a thing around you as you sighed several expletives under your breath. A jolt of bliss washed over your body.

Your eyes had just started to close in the first throes of that wild sensation, when a new sound startled you.

“Ya done pissin’ or what?”

You shot a look toward the shore and saw a slightly less-than cheery individual standing at the edge of it, the toes of his boots grazing the incoming waves.

You froze in place. You hardly knew what to say.

“Ain’t safe fer you out here ‘n you know it. Come on.” Daryl beckoned you with one hand and started to turn.

At what point was it appropriate to tell him you were naked?

You thought he could surmise from the fact you were neck-deep in the water and refusing to move that maybe something more was keeping you in. Daryl seemed clueless, however.

“I ain’t got all night, kid,” he snorted, “’f you don’t hurry, Shane an’ the rest of ‘em’ll be out and— ah.”

Ah.

At the last, he stepped on a pile of clothes folded neatly on the shoreline nearby, undergarments and all.

So this wasn’t a midnight swim or a late night piss at all, but a full-blown skinny dip. He should have known you weren’t the bikini type.

Awkwardly, almost begrudgingly, Daryl gathered what clothes of yours he could and chucked them closer to the lake. Then he turned on his heels and stalked up the beach without another word—fuming, it seemed to you. Once averted, though, Daryl’s face betrayed a look of horror. Like a parent who’d just stumbled upon a box of condoms in their daughter’s sock drawer after swearing she was still a virgin.

In the few short weeks since you’d been thrown together in this mess, Daryl had practically taken to you like family. He hated Shane ‘Shit-for-Brains’ Walsh most days, it was true, but the fact that you were you, and times were tough, and nothing seemed to occupy Daryl’s mind quite like the thought of keeping you safe, that he had to keep you close at all times. He just hadn’t imagined your proximity would turn this intimate so suddenly.

“Keep up,” he spoke more sharply than usual. Didn’t even wait for you to dry and dress completely before snagging your hand in his.

You glanced at your taut, hardened nipples poking up through the damp material of your tank top and suddenly wished you’d brought a towel. Or a bra. Your shorts, too, clung to your ass like a second skin and made you feel extra bare before Daryl’s eyes—even if he hadn’t spared a look at you once as you’d traipsed behind him through the woods.

When you tripped, he held you up; when you nearly ate shit over several rocky spots, he carried you over them. His eyes never strayed toward your body, though.

Once you’d made it to the clearing where your group had made camp, Daryl lowered you to the ground and still couldn’t find it within himself to look your way. You shuffled uncomfortably on your feet, now standing inches away from the tent you shared with Shane.

“Thanks for...that,” you said, flatly.

Daryl managed a curt nod.

Before you turned in, you decided to venture a look at Daryl’s chest, and you felt an influx of embarrassment. The taupe-colored cutoff he wore as a shirt was soaked with water. Instinctively, you brushed your fingers over the stain—as if touching it might dry the fabric, or else mask your humiliation at being the cause. You tried not to evince a hint of surprise at how sturdy he felt.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Daryl.”

You hadn’t thought any man was capable of looking more afflicted than Daryl did before, but somehow, incredibly, he appeared even more ill at ease when you touched him. You immediately retracted your hand.

“’S’okay,” he managed. He would’ve given anything not to be where he was, or who he was, at that moment.

Just when another apology leapt to your tongue—feeling even worse that you might’ve crossed a physical boundary you shouldn’t have—a twig snapped close-by.

You and Daryl jumped in your skin. You turned toward the source of the sound.

Shane was tugging his pants into place, pulling the zip up in haphazard fashion as he marched out of the woods.

He’d either been blowing Lori’s back out (again) or off to take a piss in the bushes. By the looks of his dazed and drowsy expression, you guessed it was the latter.

“Got a nice rack, doesn’t she?” Shane observed, careless as ever.

He walked past the two of you and unzipped the tent.

“I was jus—” Daryl started.

“Don’t care,” Shane cut in, “Goodnight.”

You were amazed at the level of nonchalance your fiancé exhibited. On finding you soaked to the bone and touching another man in the middle of the night, the old Shane probably would’ve laid Daryl flat on his ass.

But overprotective, possessive Shane was no more.

Before disappearing into the tent, Shane reached for your elbow. You barely got another glimpse at Daryl as you were ushered inside.

The tent was re-zipped in an instant, and you assumed Daryl would be quick to leave the scene, too.

You turned and saw Shane fumbling to unscrew the lid of his canteen. Taking several big gulps before re-fastening the top, tossing the jug to the side, and letting out a sigh.

“You get a look at the hard-on he had?” Shane chuckled.

You almost choked on your spit.

“What?”

“Pitched a tent in his pants bigger’n this,” he returned, gesturing to the polyester enclosure overhead. Then he got back to his feet, walked over to you, and kept going, in spite of your perplexed expression, “He must really wanna fuck you.”

You blinked up at him, unsure if you were more baffled by Shane’s serene demeanor or the fact that you hadn’t noticed Daryl’s boner. You decided to overlook the erection for the time being.

“And you don’t...care if he did?” Instantly chiding yourself for the twinge of indignation in your tone.

“Nuh-uh,” Shane said. His hands came to rest comfortably on your hips, and he seemed to be hearing your words without really comprehending what you meant. As usual.

If he picked up on the irritation in your voice, he didn’t show it. He just rolled the denim of your shorts between his fingers and pulled you closer.

“This,” he hummed, fingers sinking between your legs, “is not for him.”

And Shane was community dick. Made sense.

You didn’t attempt to conceal your annoyance this time as you rolled your eyes and pushed his hands away.

“Well maybe if Daryl asked nicely…” you trailed off, starting toward the bed.

Shane stopped you before you could. He took a firmer hold of your sides and showed the first real hint of jealousy in his eyes. You were almost glad to see it.

“No,” Shane said, shaking his head. Then, snaking his touch back down your legs—with the fabric of your shorts fisted in his hands this time—he continued amidst your quiet protests.

You were gripping his wrists, trying to keep them from moving any further. But Shane was insistent.

“He wouldn’t get to ask nicely, because I’d blow his fucking brains out before he ever got the—”

“Shane.” You were actively shoving his hands off now. You didn’t mind this envious side coming back to the surface, but you would not, under any circumstance, be Shane’s sloppy seconds the same hour he’d fucked Lori.

“No. You— you smell like—” you cut yourself off before the woman’s name could leave your lips.

“Like what?” Shane snapped. Suddenly intrigued to hear what you had to say.

You tried to wriggle out of his grip, but when you couldn’t, and when he pressed you again, you sputtered some nonsense about his drinking—how he reeked of booze, not Rick’s wife.

“Thought you liked it when I fucked you drunk,” Shane grinned, voice dripping with condescension, “Said it gave me stamina.”

You’d said no such thing. You groaned lightly as Shane managed to pull your panties and shorts, together, to your ankles. When he started to take them off at your feet, he hardly seemed to notice your nails dig in his shoulders, silently begging him to stop.

“Think I should invite Daryl back over? Let him watch me fuck you stupid?” Shane’s mouth was hovering close to your center, hot breaths fanning over your lower half.

In any other situation, you would’ve craved him here: on his knees, ready to suck and lick and dick you down like he always used to do. But things were different now, you had to remind yourself. Apart from the walking dead invading your world, there was no Rick in the picture, no semblance of platonic feelings between his widow and your fiancé—you felt physically sick at the thought of Shane touching you now. You tried to stand the instant he threw you on the bed.

“Shane, I don’t wanna—”

“Fuck? Yeah, I figured,” Shane shrugged as he tried to peel your shirt off your body.

“Then quit,” you hissed. You were starting to fear the fabric might tear if you held on any tighter.

When it seemed evident you weren’t going to give in on the top, Shane let go and turned to his pants instead. Pinning you down with one hand, he unbuckled his belt as you whimpered and pleaded that he stop. The sounds only made the mound in his pants more pronounced.

The two of you had dabbled in CNC before, but this was not that. No safeword, no fallback, no trace of consent between you, and to be frank, you were starting to get scared. The second Shane freed his cock from his boxers, you felt a surge of panic rise to your chest.

“Fuck— STOP!” Without thinking, you jerked your knee.

You hadn’t meant to hit his balls so hard. But you did. And he folded in half, seizing with pain, while you took that as your chance to slide off the bed, slip on your panties—and hightail it the fuck out of there.

Shane’s cries pierced the night air like a blade through rotted flesh. You stumbled, half-blind in the dark, and blazed a reckless path through the tents all around you. Weaving in and out of neighboring spaces, searching desperately for any lone, dim glow of a lantern to tell you someone was awake to hear your pleas if needed. But sadly, no tent was alight but yours, and the entrance to that was presently being torn open once more as Shane staggered out there himself.

“Y/N!” he bellowed.

In your haste, you’d tripped over Glenn’s knapsack. You scraped your knee, scrambled back to your feet, and tried with everything in you not to make a sound as you retreated further from Shane’s voice.

You probably looked feral, weaving in and out of tents with your knee leaking blood and your pupils grown wide with fear. You scampered fast across the rocky campgrounds and made a beeline for the woods.

Until Shane’s footsteps fell heavy mere feet away.

Quickly changing course, you dove for the nearest tent and ripped it open. When you slipped inside, zipped it up, and went crab-walking backward like a panic-stricken animal, you hardly saw much of anything else.

Had your pulse not been pounding in your ears and your gaze not glued to the front of the tent, you likely would’ve gotten a pretty good laugh at the sight behind you.

At the very least, a chuckle or a smile or a slightly sheepish blush would’ve been supplied in a second, seeing someone wide-eyed and holding his cock in a death grip just inches from your rear.

You’d unwittingly scrambled into the tent of a man who’d just been beating his dick off furiously to the thought of you—and there you were, sitting pretty in pure, unadulterated fear for the sight of your fiancé any second now. When you turned your head, your hand flew to your mouth.

“Dar— oh!”

Like before, your heads snapped in the direction of a new sound, quick to sense that it was Shane, and this time, you went crawling over to the archer without a second thought. Hardly noticing his pants were down, you leapt into his lap.

“Y/N—” Shane hissed as he tripped over something outside. You heard a clatter and a bang, the sound of a few curse words sputtered in vain, and a groan. Daryl’s arms snaked around your sides and pulled you closer.

“What’ve ya gone and done this time?” he whispered.

“Told him no,” you murmured back.

You pretended not to feel the singe of Daryl’s gaze boring straight through the side of your head. Then a little lower, to your near-bare lower half and shaking legs. It didn’t take long for him to piece together what had happened.

“Y/N,” Daryl started, far louder than you could bear. You shushed him swiftly, ignoring the flare of anger in his eyes that told you he was currently conjuring up fifty different ways to kill Shane and just aching to act on it.

“Don’t. Please,” you said.

“Did he—”

“No. I...kneed him in the balls before he got the chance.”

“Oh.”

Shane was pacing outside, like he knew you were somewhere close. He called your name every now and then, drew near enough to send you rigid with fear. Then Daryl would hold you tight, stroke your hair, or else just graze his lips on your shoulder to let you know he was there, and eventually, the fright would subside. You nestled yourself into that touch and felt something far kinder than fear for the first time in a long time.

You felt aroused.

Ever more inspired by the sound of Shane stewing, fuming outside within earshot and the nudge of Daryl’s member against your barely-clothed core. Well…you were tempted, to say the least. You just weren’t sure if Daryl would be on board for being your lightning-quick rebound fuck of the night.

You sighed as his hips moved gently against your own.

“You think maybe—” you started.

“Yeah?”

“—you might…tell me what you were doing before I barged in here?”

Even in the dark, you could sense a blush creeping up his neck. You loved to see a man like Daryl flustered.

“Oh, uh, that?” he said in half a chuckle. Glancing down at his groin and going back and forth between two thoughts in his mind, most likely. Tell you the truth or come up with a half-assed lie on the spot.

“Just…jerking off to you.”

He never had been any good at a bluff.

Your face visibly brightened in the dim glow of the tent. You tried not to let your elation get too far ahead of you, though, lest your voice raise above a whisper and draw Shane’s attention.

“Yeah? What about?”

Daryl never thought it possible for a woman’s enthusiasm in a question to turn him on, but yours did. He looked to your lips and swallowed, suddenly at a loss for how to answer.

“I…well…”

“You’re fucking dead to me, Y/N. If you don’t—”

Your fiancé’s voice was as close, and as terrifying, as it had ever been. You eased Daryl onto his back.

“Were you thinking of this?” you teased.

You made that soft semi-circular motion with your hips and watched a brand new face contort with pleasure. The footsteps outside hardly registered in your mind any longer, as your attention was singly focused on Daryl.

He fought a groan in his throat as you grazed your slick heat over his length.

You coated him with your arousal quicker than even you had expected. You knew you were turned on, but never had it been like that, where you were damn near dripping sweet nectar all over a man’s cock. You let a little whine leave your lips.

You couldn’t help it; your cunt rocked back and forth over Daryl’s fat, throbbing cock and made obscene sounds as you did. The archer’s hands found your hips and gently guided you up and down as his own moans struggled to break loose.

You could’ve stayed like that forever, you figured—if you hadn’t been so fucking wet that the head of his cock slipped inside of your heat the second you and Daryl bucked your hips together. An inch was quick to stretch to seven before you could think or blink or do anything else but groan in pleasure, and suddenly, he was bottoming out inside you.

“Fuck!” Daryl hissed.

“Daryl!”

“Daryl?”

Fucking Shane, of all voices you didn’t want to hear in that moment. Fortunately, he’d heard Daryl’s voice alone and not the sound of your moan, calling his name at the same time, for entirely different reasons, it seemed.

Daryl gritted his teeth as you bounced on his cock,

“Yeah?”

“I’m looking for Y/N. You seen her, brother?”

Seen you, felt you, fucked you, yeah—he had.

Daryl closed his eyes and tried not to blow his load on the spot as you squeezed around him.

“No— no, I haven’t. Not since earlier,” he grunted.

“You sure?” Shane pressed, dissatisfied, “I heard her running around this way.”

You braced your knees against the ground and rode the man beneath you even harder, taking every ounce of resentment you felt toward Shane out on Daryl’s cock. Fuck if revenge sex didn’t feel nice when the object of your ire was standing right outside the tent.

You almost wanted to moan, wanted to whimper, but were quick to think better of it the longer you spent moving up and down his length. Seeing shades of lust in his eyes like never before, you just couldn’t bear the thought of having to pry yourself off any time soon.

Daryl sank his fingers into your thighs and sighed, leaving ten perfect crescents in their wake.

“Don’t you fuckin’ stop,” he murmured.

“Could ya— could you come outside and help me look?”

‘Come the fuck on’ seemed to be the silent, shared sentiment between you and Daryl as your bodies writhed fast against each other and your highs came close into view. You braced your hands against his chest and begged him not to answer with your eyes, but you also knew Daryl couldn’t not say something to him, either.

“I…I’m sure she’s fine.” Daryl tried, weakly.

He flipped you over so you were flat on your back, hands careful not to make much noise or cause you discomfort as he did. Cock never leaving your wet, greedy hole, he found it easier than ever to resume the pace you’d made above him—now pounding you quietly into his sleeping pad.

You gripped his back and, simultaneously, bit down on his shoulder to keep from letting out a shriek when he grazed a particularly sensitive spot inside you. Tried not to whine when he hit it again. And again. And again.

Shane was growing impatient. Hovered close to the front of the tent so you could see the outline of his shadow.

“You got something better to do, Dixon?” he snapped.

Yeah, fuck your fiancée, Daryl thought with a smirk. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him even deeper.

That light, airy feeling preceding ecstasy was close at hand. You wanted to give in—let the levee break and just relish the sweet sensation quick to follow—but you knew you couldn’t. Knew yourself too well to be a screamer not to hold on a little longer, until Shane had left.

But the way Daryl’s cock was pumping in and out of you at present made it hard, to say the least.

“Just…tired, ‘s’all,” Daryl groaned close to your ear.

“Tired from what?!” Shane jeered, “Wrist been hurtin’ from how hard you’ve been jerkin’ it to Y/N, huh?”

You almost burst out laughing. Daryl quickly cupped your mouth. Fucked you harder to shut you up.

And shut up you did; but not for long, you feared. The faster he pounded you, the more that coil in your stomach came to swell, and soon enough you might—

“Eat shit, Walsh.”

“Just help me out. Please.”

Daryl shook his head and fucked you harder, much to your chagrin. You didn’t want him to stop, but you needed him to, in truth, or that swollen thing inside of you just might get the better of you and burst. You pressed your hands to his chest and tried to whimper something softly, but Daryl just hushed you with his hand to your mouth and kept on at that breakneck pace. Your eyes rolled back, your legs started to shake, and if Daryl hadn’t had to tear his attention away to say something to Shane, he might have seen how close you were to blowing your cover…before it was too late.

With one more stroke inside your wet, sensitive hole, you felt a cord inside you snap and a flurry of wild, unbridled bliss take over, stronger than you’d felt in ages.

A shriek desperate to escape your throat, your teeth raked down Daryl’s flesh with the force of it, and, instinctively, the man yanked his hand away and yelped.

You hated to do it, but the feeling was just too good. Your lips parted to release one of the most lewd and obscene sex screams of your life—with Daryl’s name following over and over as you came.

Daryl’s eyes grew to half the size of his face, it seemed. Stilling inside you, feeling your sweet, hot juices flow down him in waves, he sat there and couldn’t quite decide if he was more turned on or terrified.

When Shane tore through the fabric of the tent and charged inside, he figured it out pretty quickly, though.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon one shot #daryl dixon imagine #daryl x reader #the walking dead #twd daryl #twd fanfiction #twd imagine #smut #shane walsh #shane walsh smut

[feral4daryl]

need a part 2 of sweet scent with pervy daryl trying to explain it to you but you couldn't get it cuz you'd never done anything like it so he says he's gonna show you how good it feels and has to muffle your screams so no one in the house hears you as his cock practically splits your tiny cunt in half and he uses his thumb to rub ur clit to try and make u relax.........

I'm crazy but I'm free

masterlist and other infos || MDNI

sweet scent pt2.

perv!daryl x innocent!fem!reader

summary: after getting caught sniffing your panties by you, daryl persuades you into giving your precious virginity away to him while your dad's just in the next room.

warnings: EXTREME AGE GAP (daryl's is in late 30s/early 40s and reader is 18 [or older, it's up to you]), 18+ smut, praising, dubcon? (reader lacks enthusiastic consent at first and daryl has to do some convincing), panty gagging, p-in-v, blowjobs, cunnilingus, masturbation, manipulation, petnames, daddy kink, orgasm denial, mentions of dumbification, mentions of degradation.

word count: 6.2k

a/n: the following content contains some extreme fetishes and kinks that some readers might find disturbing, so if you're not comfortable with any of those, please do not proceed. click here to read part 1.

<previous chapter>

[...] 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?"

---

Shit.

You definitely weren't what Daryl expected to see when he opened his eyes, the remains of his freshly busted nut all over his hand and his cock out, fully on display. For a good 5 seconds, he just freezed, completely unsure of what to do. But then, it hit him. He freaked out.

His eyes got as big as they possibly could and he immediately pulled his cock in his pants back again, clumsily trying to regain his composure, taking a little longer than usual due to his nervousness. Meanwhile, you just stood there with an unreadable expression. You didn't look exactly shocked, or angry, or anything like it. You looked strangely curious, with your head slightly tilted to the side.

Daryl shook his hand to get rid of some of his essence that was still sticking to it and then rubbed it on the side of his pants, on the hip area. Still not capable of looking you in the eyes, he quickly glanced at your frame and finally broke the awkward silence.

“Y/N? W-What'r'ya doin' here?” Stuttering was very unusual for Daryl, considering that although he was a man of very few words, he was always very direct and precise with them. Maybe playing it cool as if you hadn't just caught him in the act was the way out of that unpleasant situation.

“Well...” You let out a small chuckle and took a step closer to him. “This is my room.” His awkward smile immediately faded away.

“Oh, uh... I was jus’...” He looked around the room, searching for anything to use as an excuse for being there. But before he could start, you interrupted him.

“I didn't leave with the others, daddy told me to stay here to take care of you. He's in his room.” Your sweet girly voice had a way of calming Daryl, making him a bit more relaxed despite the current scenario and the shame he was feeling. But at the same time, just hearing you enunciate that one little word 'daddy' had him taking a deep breath to control his urges and not have another erection right there and then. You said that so innocently, because, well, it was in fact innocent since you referred to your actual father Hershel, but still, Daryl's twisted mind made it sound suggestive in his head.

“Take care'a me?” He pondered. Daryl wondered why your reaction was so calm considering what you had just witnessed. Maybe you didn't see much.

“You know, somebody's gotta change your bandage.” You smiled and pointed to his head that still had the bandage around it. “Actually, can you step to the side a bit? So I can...” You gestured to the dressing table behind him. He didn't say anything and just did as you said, moving to the side a little so you could approach the piece of furniture. In that moment, Daryl was the definition of what they call a standoffish.

“I was expecting to find you in your bed, resting. As you should, uncle Daryl.” Your voice carried a hint of playfulness along with a sincere worry. But the way you called him uncle for the second time that day gave him mixed sensations. He wasn't sure if he was aroused or weirded out by it. Or both.

You extended your hand, meaning to pull the drawer open to collect the items needed to change his bandage, which included the gauze, antiseptic wipes, medical tapes, sterile dressing and other kinds of medical stuff your dad had taught you how to handle, but you had to stop your hand midway when you noticed a white slimy thing dripping down the furnishing.

He followed your eyes, noticing how stared at the liquid. The farmer's sweet young daughter had just noticed the results of Daryl's arousal while it coated the dressing table. His mind started rushing with apprehension, you could tell your dad and everyone else how much of a perverted old man Daryl actually was, and he could be kicked out of the group, being left alone in the woods to fend for himself. It's not that he wasn't capable to make it on his own, but his family was important to him, he didn't wanna lose them over that type of thing that could change the way they looked at him forever.

“What's this?” You bended your knees a little, leaning forward and squinting your eyes to take a better look at the unknown substance. Now, you had completely forgotten the reason why you came into that room that was changing his bandage. Daryl lifted one of his eyebrows out of confusion. Did you really not know what that was? If that was the case, it kind of made sense.

Of course. Living on a farm far from the city, you had a close-knit relationship with your family in a way that they were pretty much all the people you would interact with. You had never had boyfriends, or kissed, or anything remotely romantic like that due to your dad's overprotectiveness, after all, you were his youngest daughter. All you knew about the existence of sexual stuff had been taught by him, when he mainly warned you about the terrible consequences of that type of action and that you had to stay innocent.

You didn't really know what he meant by all that, since he was very vague in his descriptions about sex. Hershel just used to say that there were certain areas on your body that you should never let a boy get near and you knew better than to disobey your father's orders, being aware that he always knew what was best for you. Not even your own hands had ever darted down your body to meet those spots more than once or twice before quickly pulling away. You wanted to remain innocent, whatever that meant.

But Daryl was the observant type, and he quickly caught up that you knew nothing about that type of thing. He knew you had always lived in that farm, away from the perverted hands of boys your age (or older like him) so connecting the dots wasn't tricky at all.

Oh, the things he could show you. That thought alone brought a somewhat creepy smirk to Daryl's face as he stared into the wall, contemplating the opportunity he had in hands to finally have his way with you. He knew he still had to be careful though.

“Daryl?” Your voice snapped him out of his trance. You turned your head to look at him before turning your entire body to face him. Your gaze was curious.

“This?” He motioned with his chin towards the dripping substance on the piece of furniture, looking out of place. “Ya don'... know wha' it is?” He double checked, wanting to make sure you were actually unfamiliar erotic nature of what you saw him doing.

“Well, I saw where it came from.” You revealed, not sounding accusing at all, just simply stating a fact.

“...How long 've ya been watchin' me?” He asked with an almost audible gulp. Though he was considerably excited about teaching you all that new stuff, he was still unsure if he should or not. It'd been so long since his last sexual interaction with someone else that he could barely remember it. And doing it with the daughter of the man that gave him a roof to put over his head in times like these? That was risky.

“A while.” You stated. Now, Daryl could notice how you started staring at his crotch area with a renewed sense of interest. That meant you had definitely seen his dick despite his efforts to hide it when he first got caught just moments ago. He wondered if you knew what it was or its purpose.

You stepped even closer to him and he couldn't help but step back slightly. “I've never seen somebody pee like that. Are you... Sick?” You raise an eyebrow. “The bathroom's just in the next room, you know...” Your worried tone was awfully adorable to Daryl. And well, he was indeed sick, but not in the way you meant it. Nonetheless, the amusing way you mistook his semen for urine made him share a light chuckle.

“Nah, tha's... Tha's not piss.” He bluntly let out. You walked across your room and over to your bed, sitting on its edge. Daryl followed you until he was standing in front of you. He crossed his arms.

“How so?” You tilted your head to the side with a sincere curiosity displayed on your face. You had seen the way he rubbed that one thing of his that you weren't sure how it worked until that slimy liquid started oozing out of it, deeply stimulating your curiosity.

“Ya sure ya wanna know?” His tone sounded more dark and his voice turned hoarser, however, that didn't seem to faze you. You nodded frantically. “Aigh', i'll show ya.” Once again, a smirk creeped onto his face. Your eyes were all sparkly as you attentively listened to him. “Sometimes people touch themselves ta feel good, ya know?” You shrugged, not really sure of what he was talking about.

As he spoke, he took light and slow steps towards you, like a predator preparing to hunt its prey, until his knees was almost touching yours. “Ya ever touched yerself, darlin'?” Despite the raspiness in his voice, it was now rather calm, with a surge of some sweetness to it.

“Like how?” You asked.

“Like here...” He extended his hand with a gentle movement, his finger tracing a path from the valley between your breasts down to your bellybutton. The slightly ticklish sensation made you flinch a little. Then, his finger continued making its way down to your lower belly, stopping inches above your clothed pussy. “'N here...”

Your breath hissed, and you started remembering how your dad told you those parts were sacred and shouldn't be touched by anyone, no matter who. The uncertainty was obvious in your face as you discreetly pushed his hand away. “Uncle Daryl...”

“Ya can call me jus' Daryl, sweetheart. 'M yer friend, remember?” He tried his best to sound convincing.

“Yes, Daryl...” You corrected yourself with an awkward chuckle. “I... I think I shouldn't.” You avert your gaze from his.

“Why not? Dontcha wanna know wha' it's like?” He leaned in a little closer, resting his hands on your thighs. You made a motion to try to push him away again, but he insisted on his touch. “Don' be scared, doll. 'M not gunna hurt ya. Quite the opposite.” He smirked while practically whispering the last part, making sure to sound extra coaxing.

You weren't really sure what you were afraid of, exactly. You just knew that you wanted to make your father happy and proud of you, since he'd always been so caring towards you and your family. In the end, you just wanted daddy's approval.

“I'm... I'm not sure. I don't know, it doesn't feel right.” You confessed, your voice filled with worry. Daryl knew how to be intimidating when he wanted to.

“'S okay, doll.” He spoke the way one would speak to a puppy. And giving you no time to protest, he used one of his hands to tug at the hem of your white tank top and pulled it up in one go, revealing your bare tits to him. He bit his lips, noticing you weren't wearing a bra. As quick as he did so, you felt so ashamed of your sudden nudity that you lifted your arms up to try to cover yourself up from his hungry eyes. “D-Daryl...”

“Shhhh...” He shushed you against your ear, making shivers run down your spine. Although you were uncertain, the way he spoke to you made certain parts of your body warm up, an unusual sensation for you. “Ya got such pretty tits... Ya shouldn't hide 'em away from me.” As he said that, he gently grabbed one of your breasts, giving it the slightest squeeze not to startle you. You couldn't help but let out a small squeak at the unfamiliar sensation. Weirdly enough, it felt good in a way you had never felt before.

“Ya like tha'?” He whispered. “It's nice, but... Daddy wouldn't like that. I just wanna make daddy happy.” You just wanted to be a good girl. Perhaps, you could find a different way of doing that.

“Yeah?” He muttered practically to himself as he got an idea. “Well, I can be yer daddy for today. Like tha', ya could make yer daddy happy in a way. Yer jus' gotta lemme lead ya, aigh'?” He didn't feel guilty in the slightest for making you engage in one of his twisted fetishes while you were barely aware of it.

“H-huh?" You were uncertain about the reason behind his suggestion.

“Ya can pretend 'm yer daddy.” He continued playing her mind. You weren't really sure if you liked the idea to depict him as your old man, but you tried to convince yourself to play along.

“But... What will he think of me when he finds out?” You fidgeted with your fingers. Meanwhile his grip on your breast continued to intimidate you.

“He don' have ta know. C'mon, dontcha wanna make daddy happy?” He conveyed in a hush against your ear, his thumb now grazing your sensitive nipple, making you feel that one funny sensation again. You couldn't help but lean into his touch.

You closed your eyes, darting your tongue out to lick your lips. The nervousness in you due to the newness of it all made your lips dry. The way Daryl was making you feel was curious, and you just wanted more of it. He took your silence as a confirmation.

“Good girl.” He cooed before capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, very gently sucking on it. The feeling made you arch your back instantly.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

You just wanted to be a good girl. And if following Daryl's lead was a way to do it, you were all in for it. Your senses awakened as a cascade of unfamiliar yet electrifying sensations coursed through you, a dance of pleasure that tingled on your skin. In that moment, a subtle warmth enveloped you, as if you had discovered a secret realm of bliss previously unknown.

You reached for his head, the feeling of your delicate fingernails scratching against his scalp and pulling him closer sent tingling sensations all over his body. Instinctively, you slightly opened your legs at the pleasure and that drew a smirk onto Daryl's face.

“Eager fer daddy, huh?” The way he referred to himself like that made a faint blush spread across your cheeks, although you couldn't wrap your head around the reason why. It felt so wrong but so right at the same time.

“I need ya to trust me, 'kay?” He said as he pulled your shorts down and then tossed them aside, revealing your white cotton panties. Once again, you felt to urge to hide, not knowing how to deal with someone else seeing you naked for the first time. But before your legs could involuntarily close, his big hands groped your thighs, keeping them spread apart. “'S okay, sunshine.” He practically manhandled you, gently but firmly pushing your body downward so you rested you back on the mattress.

The new position made you feel strangely vulnerable, but it wasn't exactly a bad feeling. Your doe eyes had a mix of unsureness and curiosity as they meet his. Sensing the mixed sensations within you, Daryl leaned in to place a small peck on your plush lips, aiming to make you more comfortable. The feeling of his rough lips against your soft ones so suddenly almost made you flinch, but they felt rather inviting. As he pulled back, a confident smirk could be seen displayed on his face.

The archer's rugged fingers traveled their way down your body once again until they found the soft fabric of your panties, making your breath hiss. He brushed his index and middle fingers against your clothed pussy lips. Just with that, the dampness was so obvious that a small wet spot could be seen on the cotton fabric right where your slit would be. He dragged his fingers across it until they reached your clit.

“This lil spot righ' here...” He kept his hand there. “...is magical." For now, he just added a small pressure, testing the waters and watching close to your reaction, but that was enough to draw a whimper from you, the unknown sensation making you grasp his forearm. It indeed felt magical. You bit your lips and though you couldn't see it, Daryl shared a satisfied smile at the way he was able to get you all hot and bothered with just a simple touch.

Your legs squirmed a bit and he took that as a good sign, so he continued. Now, he started slowly rubbing your clit in circular motions over the fabric of your panties. Your back arched again, and you accidentally let out a dangerously loud moan.

“Nuh-uh.” He brought his other index finger to his lips, gesturing for you to be quiet. “Ya gotta be quiet, ya hear me?” His tone was mostly reprimanding, which strangely excited you. You nodded, enjoying the authority he guided you with through those new sensations. You had touched yourself there before, but never like that. The sensation always felt somewhat wrong, but with Daryl, it was totally different.

You were still kind of upset at yourself for disobeying your dad, but the way Daryl worked his fingers so skillfully had you seeing stars. You never thought you'd be handing out your innocence for some old redneck you met just a while ago, but there you were, completely given to him.

In the beginning, Daryl used to always kind of avoid you, despite your attempts of trying to get to know at least a little bit about the mysterious archer. He knew that deep down, those desires towards you were always there, since the very first time he saw you. At first, he tried to brush them off, but now, all he wanted was to be the one to feel your tight virgin cunt for the first time.

In a swift motion, his big hands tugged at the hem of your underwear. “Up.” He ordered, gesturing for you to lift your hips so he could pull them down. You didn't argue at all and promptly did as he said, reveling in the control he had over you. It was like he dominated your weak mind. “Good girl.” He cooed once again. Oh, if only he knew what that did to your little inexperienced pussy.

After tossing the piece of fabric aside, he reached for you knees, gently spreading them apart. The sight of your glistening bare cunt had his mind rushing through all the things he could do to it. He wondered if he would be able to hold himself back and be gentle or if he would end up losing control. After all, he hadn't done anything like that in such a long time that his whole body was aching for it. He stared at it in an almost scary way, you'd never seen his eyes so hungry.

If his cock hadn't awaken until that moment, now it was hard as a fucking rock. He had to really fight the urges to pull it out his pants and dick you down right there and then, but he knew he had to take it easy on you at least for now and get you nice and ready for him, even though you were already visibly dripping wet.

“Is this all fer me?” His tone was almost mocking. You weren't sure what he meant by that, not fully understanding the concept of natural lubrication, but you just nodded with your eyes closed. Something about being in that position felt so right, so freeing that it had you wondering why you never did that before, and why you were so afraid of trying it in the first place.

Daryl's hands sensually traced their way down your body, exploring your every contour until they reached the back of your thighs, pushing them back until your wet cunt was all over his face. He tried his best to control himself, but his own arousal was practically taking over his mind, so he buried his face on it like a starving man. As soon as his wet tongue made contact with your sensitive little clit and he lapped at your abundant juices, you immediately gasped, gaining a look of disapproval from Daryl.

“I warned ya.” That was all he mumbled before taking your panties he had just took off you and sticking them into your mouth almost aggressively. You could taste yourself on the white fabric, and although it felt strange, it turned you on even more. Now, your little sounds were muffled by the piece of clothing as he resumed eating you out, flicking his tongue on hour clit and burying it between your folds. You never thought a feeling like that could actually exist as you experienced that overwhelming rush of pleasure, a novel sensation coursing through you sending shivers down your spine as a delightful warmth enveloped your entire being. You tried your best to hold back your sounds since your dad was home and could hear you if you slipped, but Daryl's skilled tongue and lips made it an extremely difficult task, even with your panties stuck in your mouth.

He continued working your clit with his mouth, and maybe a little sooner than it should, a tingling sensation forming in your lower belly caught your attention. Daryl noticed the obvious shift in your demeanor and took the panties out of your mouth so you could speak. “D-daddy...” You experimented the honorific he had previously suggested. “I-I feel funny.” You whimpered, squirming a bit harder than before as it started feeling as if you were gonna burst at any moment. Daryl smirked against your skin and gave your pussy a last peck before pulling away, making you whine in disapproval. It had only been seconds but you immediately missed the sensation. You craved it.

“Not yet, sweetheart.” He said. Not yet what, you wondered. But you still wanted to be good for him, so you nodded as the good girl you were. You couldn't think of anything you wouldn't do for him in that moment, considering how desperate you were to feel that pleasure again.

Your curious eyes followed his hands as they reached to unbuckled his own belt, setting it aside. He undid his pants and pulled them down just enough to reveal his boxer briefs to you. There. There was the place where you saw that sticky white thing shooting out from. Now, the excitement in you was unbearable as you propped yourself up on your elbows to watch his movements closely. Your eyes visibly lighted up and that didn't go unnoticed by Daryl.

“Yer gunna love this, lil' girl.” He bit his lips. Something was very obviously bulging in his boxers, which you found odd since it didn't seem to look so obvious when it was in his pants even though now it looked so big. Either way, you were completely drawn to it. You glued your eyes to his crotch while he pulled his underwear down.

You had heard about it, but you had never actually seen one of those before. In the aftermath of the apocalypse, his pubic hair had grown wild and untamed, a reflection of the makeshift survival and the absence of the once routine grooming practices. Not that he used to care a lot about that kind of thing before the outbreak. In a way, you thought it looked charming, suiting his rugged looks and personality.

You could feel your mouth starting to water at the sight of his cock standing tall and proud in front of you. Since the archer had touched his mouth to your cunt, you wondered if you could do the same to him in that same area on his body. As if he could smell your thoughts, he brought a hand to your head, gently pulling you closer to his crotch while he held it by the base.

“Ya wanna have a taste?” He slyly suggested and chuckled at your frantic nodding. Leaning closer to it, you felt the musky and raw scent that emanated from it, which made you even more drawn to the possibilities that ran through your mind. But at the same time, you didn't know what to do or how to handle it.

Bringing his hand to his mouth, he collected some saliva from it and rubbed the wetness on the tip of his cock to lubricate it. “Gimme yer hand.” He reached out his hand, and instantly you complied, allowing him to direct it towards his cock. He enveloped your hand around it, keeping his atop yours, slowly starting to move it up and down. It felt warm and hard against your soft fingers, and the way he threw his head back and quietly groaned made your stomach churn with butterflies. “Fuck baby, tha' feels good.” He had to whisper due to the dangerous presence of your dad in the house threatening to put your little playtime to an end.

You smiled proudly at yourself. You liked the way he sounded and you wished to draw more of those grunts from his lips. And Daryl, being just as eager as you, removed your hand from his length, holding it by the base. His other hand found its way to the back of your head, his touch almost feeling impatient as he pulled you closer to his cock. “Open yer mouth.” He didn't have to tell you twice. Therefore, he guided his swollen tip to your awaiting tongue, smearing his salty pre-cum all over it. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying his best to hold back any compromising sounds.

Your lips instinctively closed around his tip, trying to mimic the way he sucked on your clit, aiming to make him feel as good as he previously did to you. The act not only gave him pleasure, but it also brought you a deep sense of satisfaction, making you hum against his sensitive skin. The vibrations from your vocal chords sent a chill through his body and he couldn't hold back this time, the warm sensation of your mouth being so tempting and promising that he pushed his hips forward a bit too much, causing it to hit the back of your throat and you to gag on it.

He immediately retracted his body, removing his cock from the velvety confines of your mouth. Your eyes got a little watery but you smiled either way. “Sorry, princess.” He said with a hint of awkwardness in his voice.

“It's fine, I liked it.” You confess, looking up at him with those big doe eyes of yours, sitting at the edge of the bed while he stood in front of you. Your innocent expression contrasting with the dirty nature of your encounter made him impossibly hornier, and he didn't feel like waiting any longer. “Fuck” He almost whined. Eagerness to feel you wrapping around him filled his body, so he grabbed you by the arms, not too rough so he wouldn't hurt you, and put on your feet against the pink wall of your room.

He brought a hand to your head, pressing it against the wall. You gasped a little at his roughness but soon you felt him brushing the tip of his cock on your slicky slit and clit. “'S gunna feel good, I promise.” He mumbled against your ear, making your body hair stand on end. The sensation had you biting your lips to try and not make any sounds, but your efforts were proven useless as you felt the pressure of his tip carefully going in your cunt, causing a burning sensation and you accidentally let out a loud cry.

Daryl's hand went immediately to your mouth, forcefully pressing his palm against your lips to muffle your sounds, your dad shouldn't hear Daryl using his sweet daughter in his own home after all. “Shhh, shhh.” He shushed you, resting his chin on the top of your head for a moment. You wrapped around him so tight even though he only had his tip in yet that he couldn't restrain himself from pushing his hips forward a little more, intensifying the burning sensation while he stretched your virgin cunt out.

“'S okay, ya can take it.” In that moment, you were confused at why he was making you feel so good just a moment ago, and now he's ripping your little pussy apart. But even though it hurt, it was somewhat pleasant to feel so full in such a new way, so you stuck your ass towards him, inviting him in. While still keeping his hand pressed on your mouth, he brought his other one to your hips, gripping them a little too tight.

Without warnings, he buried his entire length in you in one swift motion, filling you up to the brim and worsening the burning to a whole new level. The only thing that kept you from letting out a scream at the sudden invasion was his hand muffling your pathetic sounds and the fact that you'd be in deep trouble if your dad found out about that, but even so, Daryl couldn't help but quietly grunt at the intense sensation. He didn't know he missed fucking a warm cunt so badly until he was completely inhumed inside you. “Good girl. Yer being so good fer daddy.” He praised you. His words had an immediate effect on you, making your pussy even wetter, if that was even possible.

You didn't even care if it hurt or not anymore, so you just stood there, caught in the paradox of sensation — a mix of pain and pleasure etched across your face. The twinge felt like a sweet ache, and yet, an irresistible allure pulled her deeper into the experience, as if the discomfort held a hidden charm that she couldn't resist exploring.

Despite the pain, you found herself oddly drawn to the sensation, craving more as if the discomfort carried an inexplicable appeal that kept you coming back for another taste. So you slightly wiggled your ass against Daryl's body, moving his cock a little inside you. The feeling of being stretched out had you desperate for more.

Daryl's warm breath hit your ear as he let out a light-hearted laugh at your reaction, sending delicious goosebumps all over your body. His hips started going back and forth to meet yours in a sensual dance. He tried to be gentle at first, but your virgin cunt was just so wet and warm that he couldn't help it but succumb to his primal desires. “Jus' like tha', princess. Take this fat cock.” He whispered loud enough so only you could hear, making you weak in the knees.

His calloused hand let go of your hips to find your clit, starting to rub it with just the right pressure to make you squirm under his touch. The mixed sensations of intense pleasure and pain confusing your brain, making you melt like putty in his hands. Overwhelming waves of pleasure surged through you, leaving your head blissfully empty as if every thought had been swept away by the sheer intensity of the sensation, which was exactly what Daryl wanted, to turn you into a brainless little fucktoy for him.

If a few months ago somebody told you that you'd be letting some perverted older man take advantage of you in your own room, you would've laughed right in their face. Giving your innocence away to anybody used to feel like such a distant reality, and now there you were, pressed against the wall by Daryl's sweaty body while he mercilessly pounded your no longer virgin cunt, making you experience the most pleasurable pain you could ever feel.

As he continued bucking his hips like a desperate animal, you drooled against his hand, your brain now reduced to putty due to the overpowering sensation that dominated your every sense. “Nngh...” Your muffled moans stirred an even deeper desire within Daryl, turning him as primal as one could be. Your body language made it obvious that you were close to your orgasm, and this time, he didn't plan to deny you of it.

But you had never experienced something like that. You didn't know pleasure could get so extreme that could made you burst, so as the sensation built and grew stronger, it also made you unsure about where it was taking you, and you tried to fight the feeling. Daryl's skilled fingers working your clit only threw you even closer to the edge and you felt like your legs could fail at any moment.

Noticing the shift in your demeanor, he muttered against your ear. “Jus' let it go, baby. Trust me, don' hold it.” His tone was strangely sweet considering what you were both up to, but his encouraging words relaxed you a little, and as he intensified the rubbing on your clit, you knew you wouldn't be able to hold it in not even if you wanted to, whatever it was.

Then, it hit you. An entirely unfamiliar and intense sensation washed over you, catching you off guard. It felt like uncharted emotional and physical territory, leaving you completely stunned, wide-eyed, and grappling with the unexpected intensity of the experience, something that almost made you mad at your dad from convincing you of staying away from it for so long.

Daryl had to intensify the pressure of his hand against your lips, but even so, he wasn't able to muffle your cries completely as your body convulsed and you were sure you lost consciousness for a few seconds. “Good girl, cum for me.” You didn't know what that word meant, but considering the situation, you understood that it probably had something to do with the new type of pleasure you just experienced.

As the orgasmic sensation slowly faded away, it was replaced with an even more overwhelming feeling of overstimulation. You squirmed even harder and you swore you could cry if he continued using your cunt like that, not giving you any breaks to catch your breath. You'd been turned into a whimpering and drooling mess, a total slut for his cock. You wanted him to have his way with you and you knew that if he wanted to, you'd let him fuck you all day without arguing.

The intense clenching of your tight pussy around his length initiated his own orgasm, and now it was his turn to experience the compelling feeling of being right on the edge of pleasure. “Fuck, turn 'round." He desperately voiced, but he didn't even waited for you before decisively grasping your shoulders, swiftly turning you to face him. As he did so, he removed his cock from inside you and stroked it hard and fast for a few seconds with just enough pressure to make himself burst.

Your mesmerized eyes watched as the pleasure took over his body. And now, it all made sense as he started shooting his load aiming right on your bare pussy, just as he was doing earlier today when you first caught him in your room. The warm sticky substance coated your cunt and it was so much that it felt like it would never end, leaving you astonished. You couldn't help but smile at the sight before you.

You two stared into each other's eyes while desperately trying to catch your breaths, sharing a small chuckle and satisfied smiles. He leaned in to press a soft kiss to your forehead and now, you knew who to come up to when you feel that funny feeling in your lower belly again. You knew Daryl had what it took to take care of your needs.

Without saying anything else, he pulled his briefs and pants back up again, adjusting his clothes. Then, he reached for his pocket, pulling out those panties he had stolen earlier and putting them on you again, leaving his load smeary and sticking to your skin. “Leave it there.” He hoarsely voiced, ordering you to walk around with his cum inside your clothes while no one else knew of it except the both of you.

“And these...” He walked over to your bed and bended his knees a little so he could reach for the white cotton panties he had tossed aside right before railing you and put them in his pocket.

“...'M gunna keep these fer later.”

a/n: omg guys the first part of sweet scent got over 1.1k notes and that's like??? insane??? tysm for all ur support, that's crazy. it was so much fun to write both parts and i'm so thankful if you read it this far!! i hope y'all have a great and happy holidays xx

taglist: @imagininghim , @murdadixon , @epilepsywarrior8787 , @darklydixon

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[thewalkingdilf]

daryl loves adding praise when he’s degrading you.

he’s always adding in a tinge of sweetness to every degrading name he calls you. it’s always things like “pretty whore,” “perfect slut”

he loves how it makes you whimper as a blush of embarrassment coats your cheeks, and how you always attempt to hide your face.

he won’t settle for that though. he’ll grab your hands and pin them down, holding them away from your face as he sinks his cock deep inside of you, and he’ll just continue to whisper filth in your ear as he encourages you for being such a good little fuck doll for him.

#daryl dixon #twd #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead imagine #daryl dixon imagines #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon drabble #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon blurb #twd daryl dixon #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl twd #the walking dead daryl dixon #daryl #daryl dixion x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl imagines #daryl smut #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl x you

[natti-ice]

18+ mdni

I know this is literally so toxic but UGH I want it so bad!

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3

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Drunkenly arguing and screaming at each other all night over one little interaction you had with another man at a bar just because he’s so jealous and very possessive of you. He hates when other men speak to you, thinking they have a chance in hell of having what’s his. When both of you realize how stupid you both are acting, you have the nastiest, sloppy make up sex.

#natti’s 18+ #natti’s imagines #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #sirius black x reader #james potter x reader #remus lupin x reader #rafe cameron x reader #jj maybank x reader #peeta mellark x reader #finnick odair x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #spencer reid x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #anthony bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #colin bridgerton x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #peter parker x reader #rick grimes x reader #daryl dixon x reader #negan smith x reader #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader