summary A laundry mishap leads to dreams coming true
â± 18+ Oasis - Daryl Dixon x f!Reader smut (requested)
summary Daryl makes you squirt for the first time
â± 18+ V-Card - Daryl Dixon x virgin!fem!Reader smut (requested)
summary After relentlessly teasing him, Daryl finally takes your virginity
â± 18+ Inked - Daryl Dixon x F!Reader smut (requested)
summary you and Daryl give each other matching tattoos after finding an abandoned tattoo shop
Dance with Me - Daryl Dixon x F! Reader
summary Daryl makes up for everything he wasn't able to do for you on prom night
Marry Me - Daryl Dixon x F! Reader (requested)
summary After tracking and killing a deer on your own for the first time, Daryl proposes to you.
â Rick Grimes
â± 18+ Here for You - Rick Grimes x f!Reader smut + angst
summary After Lori's death, you're there to comfort Rick in any way he needs. Set in season 3 in the prison after Lori's death
1.5k words
â± 18+ Special - Rick Grimes x Reader smut (requested)
summary You give Rick a very special day.
1.3k words
â± 18+ Sweetheart - Rick Grimes x f!Reader (requested)
summary 2 months after Lori's death, you and Rick start hooking up, but that comes to a stop when he calls you the wrong name. He does everything he can to be yours again.
4.7k words
â Rick Grimes and Shane Walsh
â± 18+ Bribery - Shane Walsh and Rick Grimes x f!Reader smut
summary Rick and Shane catch you stealing and you do what it takes to convince them not to arrest you.
2.8k words
â Shane Walsh
â± Taking Care - Shane Walsh x f!Reader (requested)
summary Instead of robbing you, Shane decides to bring you back to the prison to take care of Judith but you end up taking care of him too.
2.5k words
â Negan
â± 18+ Video Star - Negan x f!Reader
summary You and Negan make a sex tape
1.5k words
â Series
â± 18+ Yes, Professor Grimes -A college/ university AU featuring Professors Grimes and Dixon and Coach Negan
â± 18+ Seclusion - Daryl Dixon x f!Reader series eventual smut + eventual romance + fluff + angst + hurt/comfort
summary Alone in the forest and separated from his group, Daryl comes across your cabin. To make up for accidentally shooting him, you take him in and patch him up. He sticks around to help you out after a storm does massive damage to your cabin.
TL;DR Just you and Daryl in a secluded cabin in the middle of nowhere.Â
â â â
CM
â± 18+ You're Under Arrest - Spencer Reid x f!Reader smut
1.4k words
summary Derek hires a stripper for Spencer's birthday party as a joke, but Spencer surprisingly ends up enjoying it.
Interested in joining the taglist? Fill out this form!
đŹ Requests are open!!
!! If you want to make a request for twd, I JUST STARTED SEASON 9 WOOOO!!! however, I can't write for anything past that :,(
Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v. Size kink (seriously, donât read if you hate big dicks / disgusting descriptions) Penis and pussy pronouns. Virginity loss. Age gap. Praise kink. Daddy kink. Joel âhung like a fucking horseâ Miller is a soft dom and also a good teacher. Competence kink (?)
Note: Somebody made a fic challenge to use penis pronouns, and I canât for the life of me remember who it was. If yâall find them please show them this and tell them I love their brain đ«
Word count: 2.3k
This wasnât the life Joel Miller had pictured for himself.
The dead coming back to roam the world and eradicate most of its population, for one. The cold. Finding his baby brother way out here in Wyoming with a wife and a child on the way. The looks he was getting these days. Itâs not like heâd asked to get mixed up with a girl your age. It just happened. And since damn near every-fucking-thing that had âhappenedâ to him since outbreak day fifteen years back had been bottom of the barrel, full-blown nightmare territory, the second he saw a good thing fumble across his path, heâd seized itâyou.
You, who were young enough to be his daughter.
You, whoâd never seen a man fully before meeting him.
You, who hadnât squeezed so much as a finger in herself.
But much like his past, Joel Miller was a sordid and sick kind of man, and he had the cock to prove it: presently weeping precum at the site of your softest, tightest hole, smearing the pearly-white slick through your folds with a sound so sweet it was nauseating. Begging for entrance.
âOughta have a boy your age pop your cherry, kid.â
It was simple.
âAinât right havinâ a man my age all in your guts.â
And true.
The head of his cock made another wet, sickening noise through your folds, and as though instigated by the sound, your eyes flitted to the source. You smiled.
âProbably. But I want you,â you answered. Soft.
Joel got harder, and he hadnât thought that was possible. His gaze joined yours, and the sight nearly finished him.
Beneath him, your legs had spread wider, showcasing that perfectly glistening seam alongside the head of his cock. He looked huge. Or you looked small. Or perhaps it was both, and he was old, and he really shouldnât be doing this at all, but then his hips stuttered a bit and his length pushed in. Joel hissed and seized the headboard.
It wouldnât even go in. The tip just stretched the rim.
âBaby, fuckââ Joel whimpered.
âHeâs so big.â
Three little words from your lips, and it almost did him in.
Again.
You wriggled your hips and flashed another happy grin.
âHe wants in, daddy. I can feel him pulsinâ like I am.â
You volleyed a look up to Joel as if to say, âSo that means weâre ready, right? Will you let me have him?â
And, strangled by guilt as he was, Joel couldnât resist.
He let his big, bulbous, leaking head sink in the tiniest bit, and he let out a groan. Your walls were so tight. This was him, tooâhis tip was oversized, just like the rest of himâand when it notched in an inch, Joel could see the pain flash quick in your eyes. His hips moved to retreat.
But then your heels were lifting and digging in his ass, and though strained, your voice made it out, weakly:
âDonât, daddy. I want him.â
Joel couldnât dream of refusing.
And his vision blurred more at that word, him.
âI-I know. He wants you too, babyââ
Another quarter-inch.
ââso, so bad.â
âDaddy!â
Joel had to blink to try and wake from his daze. His tip was so warm, hugged so perfect and snug and wet, that he didnât even realize that was all that fit. He was stuck.
You whimpered again.
ââSâtoo big, daddy. Just make him go in.â
Your eyes rolled with indignation and overwhelming pleasure alike, and your hips squirmed again. This time, you tried to nudge him in deeper, but your body simply wouldnât budge; youâd reached the widest part of him.
âHoney, itâsââ
âHurtinâ! I need you inside me.â you cried, impatient.
âJust takes a little time to get there, darlinâââ
âWell, get to it, then. A tip ainât enough.â
Joelâs face flushed. He mightâve been forced to bite back a laugh under any other circumstances, but this was your virginity. His bed. Your naked bodies, together, tonight.
He wasnât about to rush it now and fuck everything up.
âThis tipâs about to paint your pretty insides white and make you wait til next week to try again if you keep it up.â
That made you go still.
You shook your head while Joel released the headboard from his grip and took your hip in it instead. He grunted.
âSweet pea, you gotta seeââ he resumed, voice low, ââit wonât feel good for you or me if I justâŠpush right in.â
You sighed, feeling his hold tighten.
âTongue and fingers only do so much. You gotta learn.â
You whined, digging your feet in deeper when his tip drew back to your entrance. Looking a bit squeamish.
âBe braveâŠand patient for me.â
From the look in your eyes, Joel could tell you probably hated him right now. That was just fine. He adjusted his hips to a more comfortable place, and then he pinched your hip bone. He nudged you back, and he let you wait.
Then, right when you opened your mouth, he sank in.
Joel thrusted with only his tip, the size of a small lime, and he fucked your hole gently. Back and forth. Shallow.
It did enough. You squeezed both his forearms.
âOh, daddy.â Your bottom lip trembled as you said it.
With his free hand, Joel smoothed your hair back.
âYeah, what is it, baby?â he murmured, dulcet as ever, âThought you said the tip ainât enough for you, sugar.â
His words came slow. His strokes were delivered quick, though tenderly. Your brain appeared to be in a fog, or a trance, as your chin dipped down toward your chest, and you watched him breach the first inch of you repeatedly.
âCurious little thing.â Joel couldnât fight the chuckle now.
âHeâs soâŠâ you trailed off.
You squeezed his arms, and he squeezed your hip back. He let you watch him fuck you with only his tip, and when your head began to tilt back from the strain, he reached up with his other hand and held the back of your neck. He felt you clench at that, and you both groaned.
âSoâŠbig,â you finished, eyes glazed.
âI know.â
This went on for the longest time: Joel stretching the first precious inch of your pussy with the head of himself, you watching and breathing deeply, whimpering occasionally, and him holding at the nape of your neck like a softer touch might lose you to him forever. Was this teaching? When you clenched again, he reckoned it was.
âThatâs it, honey. Watch her swallow me.â
âStretches real pretty for the tip, doesnât she?â
âBet she canât even fit another inch of this cock.â
Suddenly, your head was jerking up under his hold.
Eyes flaring with a hot, juvenile kind of anger: âI can!â
Joel clicked his tongue against the backs of his teeth and pretended not to hear. He also had to feign indifference when your walls tightened and all but choked his head and a wave of new pleasure surged up through his body.
âShe can, Joel, Iâm serious!â
Another two seconds of this and Joel sensed he might see tears. Though his gaze had trailed up to yours, and the look in his appeared stern, deep down, he was just as quick to want to cave. He just hid it better than you did.
âYou think so, sweet pea?â
âI know so. I need it.â
âNeed him?â
âY-Yes.â
How sweet you seemed. How naive you must be.
Joel mightâve been mean, but he wasnât cruel. He also liked teaching lessons as much as he enjoyed showing you the way, so in the next second, he obliged. He took the last shallow thrust of his tip and sank into your cunt.
As he filled you, you whined. It only took an inch or two.
âDa-a-ddy. Please.â
You mustâve been begging for lenience. Joel retreated.
Then, much to the manâs surprise, you kicked your feet. Not in relief but in protest, shaking your head up at him:
âPut him back. Please. D-Deeper.â
It was as though Joelâs brain had exited through the back of his head and all rational thought escaped him, for the moment. The only voice he heard was yours. It was pleading. And in between your legs, you were soaked.
So drenched to allow him another inch. Then another. Then another. Joel fucked in gently and felt a seismic wave of pleasure seize his limbsâand likely yours, as well. It was as though in two blinks, youâd forgotten the pain altogether. You were suffused with need instead, eyes wincing and lips curling and sounds leaving your throat like an animal in heat. Want him deeper, please.
Joel sawed back and forth with just those five or so inches and made you writhe underneath him. Felt you clamp down on his thick, slippery cock and heard the remnants of your shared arousal making sounds as your body accepted him. Stretching wider. Getting wetter. Bringing him closer to the edge with every breath.
âSheâs doinââŠso good fâme,â Joel told you, brainless.
His thumb drifted to your clit. He rubbed it gently. No sooner had he finished the first circle around that nub when your hips were stirring againâthis time incensed.
âDaddy.â
âI know, baby. I know.â
Joel kissed the top of your head, thumb insistent. When his eyes met yours, he was surprised to find them wet this time. Tears pooling and streaking down to your temples while your body bounced gently beneath his thrusts. A whimper trembled out, and Joel slowed.
He could tell from that look you didnât want him to stop, though. It just felt so good. So, instead of dropping his pace too much, Joel cupped your chin in one hand, and with the other, he kept thumbing at your clit. Humming.
âPoor thingâs never had something this big in âer, huh?â
You shook your head. Cried a little more.
Joel kissed the tears on one side, lips smiling as he did.
âI can tell, baby. But sheâs taking it so well.â
âY-Yeah?â
His hips sped up a little. The thrusts were still shallower than they normally would be, given your state, but they seemed to be working well enough. You winced again.
Joel kissed the other side of your face to take more tears.
âUh-huh,â he answered, âOpeninâ up real nice for daddy.â
It was like his words worked as well as his thumb on your clit. You whimpered again, lips parting a little wider now, and the sound that came out was as desperate and feverish and fuck-drunk as Joel had ever heard it.
âS-Say it again,â you pleaded.
âSay what?â
âThat heâsâŠstretchinâ me open. Makinâ me his.â
The soft, slick resonance between your body and his seemed to amplify even moreâyou were getting wetter, and Joelâs thrusts all but shook the bed with their force.
His eyes darkened when he felt you tighten again.
âYeah? You like hearinâ all the filthy fuckinâ things your daddyâs doing? The way heâs breakinâ you in for him?â
You nodded. Your throat constricted with a moan.
And, just when a fresh set of tears seemed to be close on the horizon, Joel lowered himself to you. He held you to his chest, hips working relentlessly, and he watched your face screw up in pleasure. A trace of pain surfaced again, but it was soothed with a kiss. Joel grinned against you.
Between your thighs, his cock was throbbing with a feeling just as big. He knew he couldnât keep this up much longer. Hurting and aching and needing as you were, he had to make sure that you would cum first.
When his cock grazed a fleshy, sensitive patch inside your walls, he knew it wouldnât take much. He went on:
âCâmon, sugar. Daddyâs split you open on his cock so nice, least you can do is cum for him. Can you do that?â
His nose brushed yours. His thrusts sped up. You nodded, quickly, and when he shifted in the bed with his thumb still on your clit and his lips and his stubble grazing your mouth with every push of himself, he felt it.
It was a small pulse, at first.
Joel thought you might be adjustingâclenchingâagain, when the lips that were trembling against his own parted more. Your arms wound around his neck, and suddenly the throb of your walls around his member got tighter and tighter and tighter. One more second and your cunt mightâve squeezed the hot, sticky seed right out of his body and flooded your insides with it, but then came release. The âoâ of your mouth let out a shriek, at last, and your body went soft around him, beneath him, whining in turn, âDaddy, daddy, pleaseâ while the muscles once taut and unflinching gave him reprieve. Fluttering repeatedly.
Joel fucked you through it. He talked you through it.
He stroked your hair, and he held you tight. Called you his sweetheart, pretty thing, perfect girl, youâre doinâ so good fâme. Keep going. Thatâs right, cum all over daddy. He told you to take what you needed, and without another word, he felt just that. Your cunt spasmed around him, and you consumed every inch he gave and drank every drop of spend shooting out in thick spurts.
You fell boneless on the bed when all was said and done.
You looked happy, and that made Joel even happier.
He stroked your cheek, and you leaned into it, clearly drained while your gaze held his in a weak sort of look.
It was soft. Loving, even. It couldâve been romantic.
Then Joelâs hand slipped down to the nape of your neck again. Your muscles were limp, like all the rest of you, but somehow, he was able to hold you up. Tilt your chin a bit.
Make you peer down between your shaking legs, where his cock was still sheathed inside youâpartly, anyway.
Your eyes widened. Joel grinned.
âYou did great, baby. Ready for the other half of him?â
can yâall believe this image is what inspired this fic HA
Warnings: Blood; Injury; Biting to feed; Suggestive dialogue
Summary: You rescued Daryl, once and then twice.
A/N: Just a quick little thing to satisfy this vampire Daryl obsession that I have.
You knew breaking him out of the sanctuary would be dangerous. It was a suicide mission. You knew you wouldnât come out unscathed. You were blinded by your rage, your determination to pull Daryl to safety. Once you saw him, you had not a single doubt that you had made the right choice. They had tortured him with the sun, no animals on which to feed. He was burnt, the right side of his face blistered and raw. He couldnât heal. He was weak, barely able to run fast enough to ensure the escape you had planned so carefully.
It was that hindrance that left you with a through and through bullet wound to your thigh. The femoral artery had been hit. With a makeshift tourniquet, you had been able to get him out, covered in a blanket to shield him from the dangerous rays that would kill him slowly, drain him of vitality until he was nothing.Â
Now, in the cover of the forest, he lay starving while you lay dying. There was really only one resolution and you knew he wouldnât like it.
âTake my blood.â Your voice scraped against your vocal chords, mouth desert dry. Somehow summoning the energy, you looked up at him. He sat beside you with your head on his shoulder. His jaw was set, but the pain in his eyes remained unhidden.
âNo.â
âDaryl, Iâm dying.â You could feel it. You were cold, tired, the wound no longer hurting. Your blood seeped out, soaking your jeans. The tourniquet wasnât enough against an entry and exit wound. âI can still save you.â You knew he could smell it, his heightened senses reacting unbidden. He was fighting the hunger. He always had, especially when it came to you. He would tell you how sweet your blood smelled while he moved inside you. How just a taste would never be enough. He turned to carnal pleasures to overshadow the desire to feed from you.
âI ainât bitinâ ya.â He sounded desperately determined, still gazing straight ahead. His breathing was bordering erratic, chest heaving. âIâd kill ya. I wouldnâtâI wouldnât be able to stop.â
âThen donât. Take what you need, Iâm dying anyway.â You stated nonchalantly. You didnât need long to come to terms with it. Everyday was a battle to survive. Youâd been lucky to make it as long as you had. Now, it was all about saving Daryl. The community couldnât lose him, and you couldnât die knowing he would follow. âPlease.â
âSaid I ainât doinâ it!â As much as he tried to sound undaunted, his voice cracked.Â
âPlease, Daryl.â Your vision was graying at the edges. âLet me do this for you.â You felt him shift, his movements stiff but deliberate until he was in front of you, irises an intense red instead of the mountain lake blue. You loved both of them, both sides of him, but you knew what this meant and you hoped against hope that he would follow through. He was grappling for control, on the edge of giving in to your request.
âCanât lose ya. Wonât.â He ducked his head, intending on avoiding the plea in your eyes, forgetting the bloody mess of your leg. When he snapped his gaze back to your face, his pupils were dilated, he was panting harshly through his mouth with the tips of his fangs visible behind his lips. âIâll do it, but Y/Nââ You shivered, the cold fingers of death scrabbling for a permanent grip on your consciousness. âI ainât losinâ ya.â
He dove forward, pulling on your shoulders to meet him halfway. You always wondered what it would feel like to have him bite you. It wasnât as painful as you thought itâd be, but you were pounding on deathâs door, your skin cold and on the edge of numb. There was a pull when he drew out the first mouthful, a groan vibrating against your neck. He jerked you closer for a better hold and it actually hurt, but you could feel his strength returning, eager to see his face without the burns, without the pinched lines of pain and hunger. Realistically, you wouldnât. You knew that. Youâd be dead by the time he stopped.
Your heart that had been pounding a tattoo against your ribs was now a gentle cadence, a rhythm that held its melody even as it slowed. He jerked you again with a growl that rattled you to your core. It was enough to know that because of you, he would survive.Â
âIâI love you.â And with that, your reserves were spent. You surrendered to the pull of nothingness, ready to exist in the darkness, but Daryl would live.
Then you were cold, chilled to the bone.Â
You had always read in the books that vampires were much like walkers in the sense that they held no body heat, there was no heartbeat, but also no reflections in the mirror, they would burst into flames or glitter in the sun. None of that was true. Daryl was a human space heater and you could tell the moment he pulled away from you.Â
He didnât drain you. Why? DId he not realize that you were still alive? Were his senses so scrambled that he couldnât hear your heart still beating? It really didnât matter. You were dead anyway. He had only unintentionally prolonged the process.Â
âTold ya that I ainât losinâ ya.â His face was suddenly hovering over you, the moonlight carving out his silhouette like a painting. He was beautiful. He was healing. He wasâbiting his wrist? You were pretty sure that meant something but your brain was shutting down, making coherency impossible. As the urge to close your eyes grew too intense for you to fight any longer, you let them slip shut, the last image being the glow of red morphing into a bright blue that you prayed would surround you in death.
âDaryl.â You breathed.Â
And then there was nothing.
With a deep inhale, you shot upright, the moonlight bright and the sounds around you amplified. You felt your heart begin to race, your breathing a panicked cycle of inhales and exhales. You could smell everything, hear everything. The hole in your leg was gone. When you bit your lip, the sharp tip of an elongated canine broke the skin. Overwhelmed, you sought out your peace, the one thingâthe one personâ that could tether you to reality, ground you. Daryl was sitting across from you, a fire burning between you.
He smiled, fangs still stained with your bloodâand his own.
âTold ya that I wasnât losinâ ya.â You blinked at him for a moment before you couldnât help but smile back. âAnâ I meant it.â
omg this was so amazing! the way you write is honestly so poetic that i was in awe. the way you used tactile imagery and personification when describing the feeling of impending death in lines 50-51 ("the cold fingers of death scrabbling for a permanent grip on your consciousness") had me gagged. this one-shot honestly boosted my fascination with vamp!Daryl and i will now be scouring tumblr for more đ.
âł Summary: While out on a run, you and Michonne start lightly teasing Daryl for having his hair grown out. But there's a hidden reason as to why he won't cut it. (Daryl x Fem!Reader)
âł Era: Alexandria, post Savior war
âł Word count: 1.4k
âł C/W: Just smut n hair pulling
âł A/N: This spawned from me writing the context plot of another fic and I was like⊠wait (And thank yall for the attention on that Mother's Day post??? Yall are so sweet đđ«¶)
My hair is really similar to Daryl's when it's partially or almost dry and it's actually my favorite thing about myself like xbsosjdjdneisnsiasjebeiisjabajissn
You loudly banged your forearm against the glass door of a long abandoned drug store, not hearing any noise inside. Vines and weeds had grown through cracks in the concrete, winding up the sides of the building.
âSounds pretty clear,â You shrugged, holstering your bow and opting for hand-held blades as Michonne pulled open the handle. You, her, and Daryl were clearing through a nearby town while out on a supply run, opting to make quick work of the task in favor of getting home.
You three entered the building, keeping your guard up in case of any straggling walkers that weren't roused by the initial attempts to lure them towards you. The interior wasn't large, so you could comfortably split off from each other and still be close.
âSeems mostly ransacked. Not much left,â Michonne commented, katana lowered but out in front of her. This had begun to grow repetitive and boring, energy matching the grayness of the lighting.
She took a pair of hair cutting shears off the shelf in front of her, holding them up to your gaze a few isles over. âThink he could use these?â She asked as a smile played the edges of her mouth, nodding back towards Daryl, looking for mischief. His hair had grown quite long over the course of the last two years, the tawny blond darkening into a rich brown, accompanied by a shaggy cut.
âOh definitely. Jusâ gotta determine which onna us can hold him down long enough to cut it,â You replied with a chuckle, eyes following hers to where the archer stood at the endcap of another lane.
âShuddup, will ya?â Daryl scoffed, shaking his head with grunt. His gaze didn't break from the advertisement in front of him, trying to ignore your antics. âTs'fine.â
âGotta make use of whatever supplies we find, no?â You continued your teasing, trying to hide the grin on your face at his reaction. âYou were sweatinâ like a pig all summer, hair tangled all over yer face ân what not. When was the last time you cut it?â
âDonâ knoâ, donâ care,â He grumbled, and you eyed Michonne again. It's definitely been since the prison, at least. He moved on from the stand. âPlus, winter up âere's gon be colder. Will keep me warm.â
âDaryl, you're âbout the only one who didn't freshen up since we got to Alexandria. Don't you at least want a trim?â Michonne pestered, raising her eyebrows at him and shifting her weight to one leg. âYou remember Rick's whole hobo-beard.â
âAin't got no âhobo-beardâ.â
âBut you do look like the only âscissorsâ you know is the recently searched on your go to porn site,â Michonne chaffed, barely able to contain herself.
Daryl froze for just a second, face flushing as his head whipped to stare back at her. And you two burst out laughing, to which his expression soured.
âGive it up, alrighâ?! Ain't nothinâ wrong with mah hair!â He snapped, accent thick with embarrassment, bowing his head slightly in an effort to obscure it. He readjusted his hold on his crossbow. âGon shoot tha botha ya.â
âAy, ay! Jusâ sayinâ. Rick scrapped the beard and⊠maybe you'll finally get some play too,â She winked, followed by a lighthearted snicker.
Daryl groaned again and rolled his eyes, beginning to walk off, but caught your gaze for just a second.
It's not that he didn't want to cut his hair - he didn't care about it â but he wasn't really allowed to either way. There was one major, sexy, moaning reason he didn't cut his hair.
â„-ăăââââââŁ
âOh, god, Daryl! Fuck! Don't stop⊠god don't stop,â You cried out, hands clutching his shoulders as your nails began to dig into his flesh. His grip on your hips was bruising, keeping you steady as he pounded up into you at a relentless pace. That grip was the sole thing grounding you in the reality of the present moment.
âAin't gon stop,â He affirmed, voice gravelly. You moaned wildly, head weakly falling to his chest with exacerbated breaths, his own heaving against your temple. He leaned closer when he could, harshly sucking at your clavicle and boobs, leaving behind a litter of hickeys and little bites that colored you in reds and purples.
The springs of the bed beneath you sounded like they were gonna fold in on themselves, headboard sporadically banging against the wall as Daryl shifted down a little to hit into you at an angle, your clit brushing against him with each thrust. Your back arched overtop of him, shoving his dick into your belly.
âBaby, please⊠fhuuuckkkk.â You couldn't even think, every thought consumed by the feeling of him. The way he just destroyed you like it's an art he'd mastered, tip brushing against every sweet and sensitive spot inside you, walls desperately trying to cling on, balls hitting up against you, clit grinding on him, slickness coating his pelvis and your inner thighs, his clutch on you just so fucking strong.
You pulled yourself together, lifting your head to see him. His long hair was dark and dampened with sweat, matting up as it stuck to his forehead, obscuring part of his vision. But he was too focused on using you to fix it, didn't dare to remove his hands unless God willed him to.
You moved up, swiping it away, and his blue eyes instantly connected with yours, pupils blown with lust. He (somehow) sped up, starting to slam your hips up and down to meet him instead of just keeping them stationary, now just beating your cunt.
âTha's it girl. Jusâ keep takinâ me good like thaâ.â
His words made you shiver, and you partially fell forward again, nestling your face beside his and snaking an arm behind his head. Your fingers weaved through his messy hair, tangling at the scalp, then tugging harshly as another wave of pleasure ripped through you.
And he whined. There it is. His breathy gasps and grunts mingled with strained whines, and whimpers, as you pulled tighter and tighter at the roots of his locks. His face contorted, eyes nearly squeezing shut, that one vein bulging from his neck, directly on the verge of so much.
âDaryl⊠inside.., Dar-â You panted, cut off as everything went white and you hit your peak. Your whole body felt electrified, tensing, twitching, walls spasming, toes curling and claws clinging to his frame.
Daryl tipped over the edge almost immediately after, having just been waiting for you to cum first. He desperately pumped into you a few more times, before curving up once more and simultaneously ramming you down as he came deep in you, the warmth of his release spreading through your core, and he threw his head back with ragged breaths.
You were both left a sweaty mess, gasping for oxygen, feeling full and satisfied. Your muscles couldn't keep you up, and you collapsed onto him, loosening your hold at his scalp, his hold on your hips doing the same.
He recovered a bit quicker than you, bringing a hand up and brushing your own messy hair away the second he had the energy to do so.
âYa alrighâ, sunshine?â He asked between hitches, hoping he hadn't been too rough. He soothingly rubbed his palm over the curve of your body where bruises were sure to form.
You nodded faintly, moving your head so you could breathe better, and you could feel him relax beneath you from the reassurance. He held you tenderly for a while, giving you time to regain your composure. Your eyes were closed in bliss. Few things beat the feeling of Daryl under you, rising and falling with his torso, hearing his low humming as he steadied himself â his softening cock still buried deep inside you, cum ever so surely beginning to dribble down.
You lazily remained in his arms, not wanting to deal with getting up, or the shower you two definitely needed. You took a strand of his hair, affectionately curling it around your finger like a tendril, then letting it go and repeating.
âYa actually want me tah cut ma hair?â He eventually asked, thinking back to your light mocking from earlier, how you'd laughed as Michonne layered it on. It didn't matter much to him, he'd do whatever pleased you.
âFuck no. Was just messinâ with you, Dixon,â You replied, kissing the skin of his collarbone right below you, and moving up to find his lips. âYou know I like it long.â
The long hair suited him, he looked good with it. You loved to wash and play with it, brush and braid it while he laid in your lap. But mainly, it was easy to grab at, pull on â and close to nothing in existence sounded better than those whines and whimpers every time you did so.
Warnings: lots of fluff, some insecure/not worthy feelings, mentions of nightmares, (following my friend's @dixons-sunshine design cause I have no idea what I'm doing yet. SORRY KRYS đ )
Word count: 819 (not counting symbols, emojis or ending A/N)
A/N: HEEEEY! So, huh. This is the first time I ever posted on Tumblr or done smt like this (I'm familiar with writing short fics, fics and one-shots, but not headcanons) so idk what the outcome may be... but I'll try to have fun since this is just a way to pass time and write down some kinda random stuff I had in my head!
With that said, let's head on to it!
Song: ONLY - Leehi
(play b4 you begin reading)
âœâ§âË Daryl wouldn't be the one asking for cuddles. It's more like you felt like it late at night. â§âË
âœâ§âË Daryl would look at you questioning why you want cuddles out of nowhere, but he would comply with a small smile nonetheless. â§âË
âœâ§âË Daryl would allow you to cuddle his arm if you guys are still with other people. â§âË
âœâ§âË The first time he laid down with you in a bed (way long ago), he was paralysed and didn't know what to do when your body moved closer to him seeking comfort and warmth. â§âË
âœâ§âË Daryl at first is super shy to even hold you, not to talk about cuddling you. â§âË
âœâ§âË Even when you occasionally hugged him out of fear/anxiety after a dangerous situation back then, his body would stiffen, and he would barely move (the poor man being too conflicted in his own mind to mind how you were doing yourself). â§âË
âœâ§âË Daryl frequently thought it was wrong for you to hug him or seek comfort from him because of how broken he felt he was. â§âË
âœâ§âË As you grow closer, he will begin to feel more comfortable with physical contact with you. ONLY you. â§âË
âœâ§âË Daryl is straightforward and will tell you when he is not in the mood for hugs, cuddles and such. â§âË
âœâ§âË That will make you feel a little disappointed, but he would gently kiss the pout out of your face. â§âË (đ€)
âœâ§âË "Maybe next time, peach. Dudn't wanna spoil yer mood with ma shit." â§âË
âœâ§âË He likes couch cuddles. You are more of bed cuddles. â§âË
âœâ§âË He "secretly" loves the cuddles with you sitting in his lap and resting your head on his chest. â§âË (don't tell him I told ya đ€«)
âœâ§âË He has memorised your cuddling patterns and discovered you have a cuddling setting time. â§âË
âœâ§âË It is a rule for Daryl now that he will wrap you with his arm and hold you closer on cold nights or when he feels you're distressed. â§âË
âœâ§âË "'S aight peach, 'm here with ya." â§âË (he would def whisper that in your ear with his raspy voice đ€đđ)
âœâ§âË Sometimes, cuddle times (anytime from 10 pm to midnight) end up in conversations that worry/tire you (mainly after an event has occurred), which is why Daryl prefers not to talk much and just hold you between his arms. â§âË
âœâ§âË Other times, you guys plan things together like what to look for in the next run, things you'd like to do or want him to teach you or just joke and enjoy each other's presence. â§âË
âœâ§âË When you are too worried, Daryl passes his hand through your hair and massages your temple. â§âË
âœâ§âË He often kisses your head or forehead when you fall asleep first (which is sincerely always lmao). â§âË
âœâ§âË Daryl gets grumpy/worried when he wakes up in the morning and you're not by his side, but he masks it well. â§âË (to the others tho đ)
âœâ§âË On the contrary, if he wakes first and still finds you sleeping, he will watch over you lovingly and maybe place a kiss or two to wake you up. â§âË
âœâ§âË You both like to intertwine your hands as you cuddle. Daryl often kisses your knuckles when you do. â§âË
âœâ§âË He will big-spoon you to eternity unless he is angry, or distressed. â§âË (so you might be the one big-spooning lol or maybe just giving him some space)
âœâ§âË During difficult times or when you're most agitated/anxious, Daryl reverts into thinking he isn't worth enough to be with you or hold you like he does. â§âË
âœâ§âË You never take it on him when he doesn't know how to console you, instead, sometimes you are the one consoling him, because you know he needs it as well. He appreciates it. â§âË
âœâ§âË Daryl has had nightmares previously revolving around his past, his family, his brother, and occasionally even you. You are always there to reassure him that you love him, and you are not going anywhere without him with kisses. â§âË
âœâ§âË If you ever fight/argue, cuddle time is not interrupted.
Daryl would take the coach and you'd take the bed, though in the middle of the night, you (who couldn't fall asleep after the argument and without Daryl by your side) would feel some weight on the bed and next thing is, Daryl's apologising for acting like that, expressing his mind more openly and calmed, and asking you to not stay angry at him for longer. You (or more like me haha) can't stay angry with him for that long, so you'd have gone to meet him for the same thing. â§âË
âœâ§âË After a fight comes reconciliation, and with it comes reconciliation cuddles and quality time together. â§âË
âœâ§âË He adores hugging you from behind (softly or firmly) whenever you're cooking or doing something. It will surely be accompanied by some cheek and neck kisses. â§âË (đđ)
Alright, that's all I could come up with in the past 2 hours or so (I think...).
I decided to do this basically because... I was feeling sleepy and just felt like having cuddles- đ¶ And with my not-so-sudden Daryl Dixon rise concerning stuff about him on Tumblr, and discovering a new page of Daryl's content (fic, hdcs and series) I absolutely adored, I said to myself (in my sleepy state ofc) why don't I make one too?
I mean, it could be nice and cute to do short (hopefully, cause this ain't short at all đ) content about the fandoms and more that I like.
And so here we are! đ Lmk in the comments what you think plsss, so I'll know if to make another similar one in the future!
Also, this is kinda an inspiration/mention to a few Daryl-based pages that make some awesome sauce content. Pls check them out cause they are all amazing! @dixons-sunshine @celtic-crossbow @virginsexgod69 @darylsdelts @littlegodzilla @daryl-fucking-dixon @daryl-dixon-daydreams @lazyneonrabbitt
Thanks to y'all cuties for reading, hope to see ya soon~
Vamp!Daryl moodboard because oh my god I cannot get enough of him
Iâm writing something for him on my main blog, but I also wanna write something else and I also donât wanna delete what Iâm already writing (because Im punishing myself)
I did in fact end up going into detail đ(ifykyk)
SOMNOPHILA AND BLOODKINK WARING
SOMNOPHILA AND BLOODKINK WARING
SOMNOPHILA AND BLOODKINK WARING
There was no place comfier and warmer than cuddled up right in your arms, nuzzled safely against your chest where Darylâs 30/20 hearing could peacefully listen to the clear beat of your heart. It lulled him into a deep sleep almost every night, belly full and his hunger satisfied.
But a vampire could never be too full, and Daryl Dixon never sleeps without his senses guarding at all times, so the way he jerked slightly at the first hints of blood flooding into his nostrils was inevitable.
You barely stirred, which made it easy for Daryl to slip out of the cage that was your limp arms and quietly inspect your body.
He softly and gently lifted your shirt, helping himself to an eyeful of pretty tits once he determined your torso was unscathed, placing the fabric back down over you. His eyes fluttered down to your panties, brain loading for a moment before he dipped his head down, not even having to inhale before he was hit in the face with the overwhelming smell of blood.
This absolutely horrified him. Why were you bleeding, and why were you bleeding from your cunt? His cold little heart throbbed painfully, and he wasted no time pulling off your undies, shivering at the ruined fabric. It was bad, so bad. You had somehow hurt yourself in a sensitive area and needed obvious help, but first Daryl just had to take a deep whiff of your bloody panties, biting back a guttural moan when the pure smell made him dizzy, eyes almost rolling to the back of his skull as it traveled through his veins and damn-near made him cum. Not even the most expensive cocaine could get him that high.
His mouth was watering from just that alone, trying not to wake you as he quietly gasped for air, having literally suffocated himself in your underwear. He redirected his gaze to you and felt disgusting when he could feel his cock twitch at the sight of your bloody pussy.
No. He needed to help you. You were hurt and he needed to fix it, furrowing his brows as he built up his saliva in his mouth, hoping that if he coated you in enough of it, it would heal you much quicker.
When it was pooled on his tongue, he dropped down to be face to face with your cunt and forcibly swallowed the groan that formed in his throat from the smell wafting into his nose. All five of his senses were sky-high, and your skin almost felt like butter on his fingertips as he spread your bloody lips apart, running his slick tongue from top to bottom.
Your body trembled at the cold sensation, and soft sounds spilling from your lips as you reacted to his touch in your sleep. It made Daryl feel a little guilty, but it would make him feel guiltier if he just left you like this.
There was just blood all over you, and Daryl worked his tongue fervently to clean it all up. He tried not to enjoy it too much, running the wet muscle up the crease where your thigh met your labia, stopping to suck on your clit a little, cleaning off any blood with the tip of his tongue.
He was purposely trying to produce more saliva with every lick, ensuring that wherever your wound is, itâll be completely coated in his healing spit. He wrapped his arms around your thighs so that he could pull your lower half flush against his face, slipping his tongue into your hole and swirling it around when he could taste the blood pooling inside, this time not being able to fight back his grunt at the taste. Oddly enough, it tasted so much better coming from your pretty pussy.
âGonna make sure ya feel better doll, gotta make sure mâgorgeous girl is alrightâ He mumbled out loud but more so to himself, practically nose-deep as he protectively squeezed you impossibly closely, starting to get a little tipsy from all the blood he had already consumed.
You stirred slightly, grunting and wiggling your legs a little as you could feel the sturdy muscle of Darylâs arms around them, shortly followed by the warm sensation of his muttering and licking between your pussy lips âMm⊠Dar?â
He didnât respond, nor did he move from his position, too far gone and deep between your legs.
âDaryl.â You forced your tired voice to call a little louder, coming out as more of a moan than anything else.
This time the movements of his tongue halted as his ears and head perked up, a very unexpected sight greeting you.
His red eyes were wide as they stared at you, beard stained blood red from where it dribbled down from around his equally stained lips, smeared across the tip of his nose and most likely painting his pink tongue a matching color.
It made you throb slightly, clenching as you softly stared at him. âWhatâre you doing?â
âYa started bleedin'â Still donâ know-how, but ya did, ând âwanted ta make sure yaâ werenât hurtinââ He shook his head as he rambled, and you raised a brow at him.
âBleeding?â You glanced at his position between your legs, and then back to his face, easily connecting the dots with a small âohâ sound. âOh Daryl, Iâm not injured, sweetheartâ
He gawked, flickering from your face to your cunt. âYe-Yer not?â
A giggle rumbled in your chest at his poor ignorance, âNo silly! Iâm just on my period. Itâs just my body getting rid of old blood. I didnât even know you could eat thatâ reaching a hand down to cup his sweet messy face, the confused look on his face adorably tugging your heartstrings. Or maybe thatâs just your hormones.
âTasted good taâ me⊠old?â Daryl mumbled, brain lagging behind to catch up with the new information that he was receiving.
You nodded, blushing a little at his words. âOld blood, bacteria, all that⊠how long have you been eating?â
âNot long, think it jusâ started or somethinââ He eyed your pussy, licking his lips. âCan Iâ Can I keep goinâ?â
âKinda gross donât you think?â You cringe slightly at the idea of eating period blood, goosebumps dotting your skin.
Daryl scoffed at you, arms pulling you close to his face again as he had full intentions of leaving his plate absolutely clean. âGross ainât even in maâ damn vocabularyâ
I need him SO FUCKING BADLYYYABUAINA literally all my problems in life would be completely solved if I had vamp!daryl waking me up with his tongue just because he thought me starting my period was me somehow getting an injury
VAMPIRE DARYL IS MY ROMAN EMPIRE AND I HAVE DECIDED I NOT ONLY WANNA DIE ON THIS HILL BUT I WANNA BE FUCKING BURIED IN IT. SEVEN GODDAMN FEET UNDER.
no I do not care if you dont like this or if it made you uncomfortable have you ever tried reading the warnings or do your eyes only work when you dont fucking want them too
the self care industry will sell you face masks and teas and whatnot so i'm here to remind you not to forget the most important self care activity which is masturbation
Idk why, but I've really been loving the idea of Daryl proposing to reader recently. Like, he was just gonna pop the question in the confines of their own home, but maybe while on a hunt, the reader successfully tracks down and kills a deer on her own without Daryl's help, and while she's excitedly rambling about the fact that she finally did it on her own, Daryl just looks at her and thinks, "yeah, this is the girl I wanna marry," and then unexpectedly just says "marry me". He pulls a ring out and everything. Fluff all the way!
Thank you so much if you write this, but don't feel pressured to! You don't have to write something you don't want to. I completely understand either way. I appreciate you nonetheless đ
â Marry Me â
pairing Daryl Dixon x F! Reader
cw killing a deer and some walkers
1.7k words
note this was such a cute idea and i loved writing it so much! i hope you like it and it fits the vision you had! =]
âWhatâs on your mind, baby?â You asked sleepily, running your fingers through his soft hair as his head rested comfortably on your chest.Â
âNothinâ,â he lied. He hated lying to you, but he didnât know how to go about popping the question. Now would have been a nice time, with two of you cuddled comfortably on the couch in the privacy of your own home. Moments like these were some of his favorites with you and adding the memory of a marriage proposal to them would only make these moments better. But for some reason, he couldnât bring himself to do it. He wasnât scared youâd say no, in fact he would have bet his life on you saying yes. Yet, each time, the words kept dying on his tongue and the ring weighed heavily in his pocket.Â
âYou can tell me anything, you know that, right?â You insisted. He looked up at you sweetly and muttered an âI know.â You gave him a sad smile, wishing heâd tell you what he was thinking, but respecting his decision not to.Â
âI love you, Daryl,â you said dreamily. This was it, the perfect segue into a proposal. He sat up properly and felt around in his pockets for the ring. The words were just about to leave his mouth, but the tired yawn that escaped you interrupted him.Â
âGânite,â you muttered as you dozed off. Daryl would never not be amazed at how fast you could go from being wide awake one minute to falling asleep in the next. He pulled the ring out of his pocket and fiddled with the shiny piece of jewelry. It was a small, elegant ring with a fairly thin band and diamond right in the center. Whoever had originally bought it had to have paid a fair amount of money for it, but stuff like that didnât matter now. Even though you would say yes without a ring, he still wanted to do something nice for you because you deserved it. The weeks of examining the hands of every walker he killed and searching through abandoned cars and buildings all became worth it once he found the perfect ring for you. But somehow, that was the easy part. Finding the right words at the right moment was proving difficult as every minute he wasnât married to you passed by. He sighed to himself and tucked the ring back into his pocket, disappointed that yet another opportunity slipped by.Â
He gently lifted you from the couch, taking extra care not to wake you from your peaceful sleep. He carried you up the stairs and into your shared bedroom before pulling back the comforter and sheets and tucking you in. He slid into the bed beside you and you gravitated toward his warmth like you usually did. He pressed a kiss to your forehead.
âLove you, too.âÂ
The sun blooming over the horizon created an orangey hue across the clear sky, illuminating the once dark forest. It became easier to see the tracks of the deer youâve been tracking since dark morning. Hunting wasnât something you did before the dead started rising, but it quickly became a necessary skill to have and thankfully, you had Daryl to show you the ropes. He even showed you how to use his crossbow once when you joined him on a hunt way back at the prison. That same day you learned that you preferred a hunting rifle. In return, you shared with him the medical knowledge you had from being a paramedic. The quid pro quo relationship you had with the hunter slowly grew into something more deep and meaningful over time.Â
Finally, after hours of following the tracks imprinted in the damp earth, you came across a clearing where the doe stood. You aimed the rifle at her, careful not to make any noise and scare her off. Through the scope, you pointed the weapon at the place Daryl taught you to in order to ethically kill it. Just as you were about to press your finger to the trigger, you noticed walkers approaching the doe. Their loud groans and clumsy footsteps spooked her, sending her running into the forest just at the same time you fired your shot.Â
âGoddamn walkers!â You cursed. You put the safety on your rifle and hung it on your shoulder by the strap. Unsheathing your knife, you entered the clearing and approached the undead beings. You put them both down once they approached you and cleaned your knife on your jeans before putting it back into its sheath. Red blood contrasting on the green grass caught your eye. It belonged to the doe, meaning your shot actually landed and she could be somewhere wounded, or even dead. Excitement increased your heart rate as you followed her blood trail. This was the closest youâve come to killing a deer on your own. Youâve managed smaller kills, like squirrels, before, but never a deer! You couldnât tell if you were more excited about actually killing the deer or seeing Darylâs reaction, but either way you were giddy.Â
After trekking about a half mile in the direction the doe fled, you finally found her lying in the greenery having succumbed to your shot. You were beaming with happiness as you effortlessly picked her up and carried her across your shoulders. Youâve carried people heavier than her out in the field during your paramedic days.Â
Daryl nervously fiddled with the ring as leaned over the railing of the front porch, smoking a cigarette. He hated how hopeless he felt when it came to actually proposing to you. With how long the two of you have been together romantically, the ability to propose should have come to him naturally. He knew there was nothing to be nervous about and that he was just psyching himself out and he should just ask you to marry him already. But every time it felt like the right moment to, that feeling was gone once he started digging around in his pocket for the ring.Â
The sight of you walking toward the house with a big smile on your face and a deer draped over your shoulders snapped him from his thoughts. Maybe it was just the sun shining from behind you, but you were absolutely glowing.
âDaryl!â You shouted excitedly as you increased your walk into a small jog. You set the deer down before hurrying up the porch stairs. He put out his cigarette before you excitedly jumped into his arms, embracing him like you havenât seen him in months.Â
âGuess what!â You said as you reluctantly pulled away from the hug.Â
âWha?â Based on the deer laying at the base of the stairs he was sure he could tell what happened, but you looked so happy and he wanted to share your excitement and hear you tell him yourself.Â
âI finally killed a deer! All on my own!â A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as pride swelled in his chest. He remembered when he took you hunting with him the first time. You were the one who wanted to go with him and "see what he does when he's off to who knows where for who knows how long." When he finally did, you complained about how boring it was and how all you were doing was looking at dirt and not seeing any animals. But now, here you were with a deer you had hunted all on your own.Â
"I had been tracking it since way earlier this morning and I almost thought I wasn't gonna catch it but then I saw it in a clearing and so I was gonna shoot it but then walkers got in my way like they usually do, those annoying sons of bitches, and then the deer ran but I had shot at it so then I followed the blood..."
Daryl stared at you in awe as you rambled on about your adventure. The sense of pride and adoration he felt whenever he looked at you, but now especially was overwhelming. You were perfect in every way and he'd be damned if he went another second without being your husband.Â
"...and then I found it further in the woods and I was just so excited that I finally caught a whole entire deer all on my own for the vâ" Â
"Marry me!" he blurted out suddenly.Â
"Huh?" You blinked at him in confusion, not sure if you heard him right. As if he suddenly remembered something, he patted all his pockets until he felt the one with the ring in it and pulled it out. The sparkle of the diamond in the sunlight caught your eye.Â
"Will ya marry me?" he repeated, this time holding out the ring to you. He lowered himself to one knee, still holding out the ring. Your eyes filled with tears, happy tears, and you held out your left hand to him.Â
"Of course!" you said as he slid the ring onto your fourth finger. It fit almost perfectly. As soon as he stood up from his position on the floor, you jumped into his arms. He caught you and held you tight as you peppered kisses all over his face. He set you back down onto your feet and held your face in his big warms hands, wiping away your tears away with his thumbs.Â
"I'm so proud of ya fer catchin' that deer all by yerself." The smile that graced his face was contagious.Â
"Learned from the best," you said, smiling up at him. He leaned down and you met him halfway in a kiss.Â
"Can't wait to skin this deer with my wife," he said once he pulled away from the kiss.Â
"Ooh," you exclaimed, giddy at the new title, "Can't wait to eat some venison with my husband!"Â
thanks for reading!
note i've been a pescatarian for 3-ish years now, but I've been wanting wing-stop, so i got some wing-stop and it was great. thanks for listening
so basically instead of eugene its reader and negan finds it super hot that she's hot and has brains, and while she's explaining how to make bullets all he can stare at is how tiny her articles of clothing are and maybe fucks her in the building while the guards are right outside? love your writing
Ahhh i love this idea so much.
Smarty Pants
Negan x F!Reader
Warnings: 18+, smut, p in v, quickie with Negan while the others are outside
"And, so, yeah, that's how you make a bullet." You pushed your glasses further up the bridge of your nose, hesitantly looking up at the Savior's leader before you.
A smirk lingered at the corner of his mouth as his eyes slid slowly up your body before landing on your eyes. You blushed, realizing he'd been staring and silently praised yourself for choosing to wear a spaghetti strapped sundress today. It was yellow, your favorite color, and contrasted perfectly with your skin. You'd be lying if you said you weren't trying to impress him.
The only good thing about being at the sanctuary was getting to look at Negan everyday. Although you missed your friends back home, it wasn't so bad here. And, at least Daryl was here with you, even though he was a prisoner.
Your eyes flashed to Daryl, who standing behind Negan with cuffs shackled to his ankles and wrists. You felt an immediate sense of guilt every time you saw him. It wasn't fair that you got special treatment just for being highly intelligent. Daryl had just as much - if not more - to offer the saviors. The difference is, you were willing to succumb to them. To Negan.
Negan noticed you eyeing Daryl, making you nervously turn away and head inside. Before you could make it too far down the hall, Neganâs voice stopped you.
"Not so fast, smarty pants.â He slowly walked towards you, baseball bat in hand and your heart raced in your chest. You backed against the wall while Negan stood in front of you in a fitted white t-shirt.
"Darlin'. Have I properly thanked you for the service you're doing here?" His voice was deeper than usual and the sound of it alone made you wet.
"N-no, but no need, sir..â
"Oh, how inconsiderate of me." His voice boomed. âI would love the chance to show my appreciation to my sweet, little bullet maker. If you're up for it?"
You politely nodded and his grin deepened as he looked down at you.
"Thatâs a good girl." Lucille touched your ankle, stinging your skin but you didn't move. The head of the bat traced up your leg lightly, leaving a mark until it reached your sensitive thigh. You felt the bottom of your dress lifting as Negan watched.
"Like opening a birthday present, baby. Did you wear this pretty dress just for me?â
You nodded again, causing him to pull his bat away and lean it against the wall beside you.
âCanât hear you, sweetheart. Speak when youâre spoken to.â He whispered in your ear.
âY-yes. I wore it for you.â You admitted, earning a pleased chuckle from him.
âYeah? You want my attention, baby? Youâve fuckin' got it.â
Your body shivered when his hand slid up your thigh and reached your panties. You were already soaked and from Neganâs reaction, it was obvious. He let out a satisfied groan before pressing his lips to the sensitive spot underneath your ear.
âSo warm and wet for me already. Tell me what you want, darlinâ.â He whispered, and you heard the sound of his pants quickly unzip.
"I want.. you to fuck me. Right here, please."
Negan chuckled and lifted you suddenly by your thighs, guiding your legs around his waist.
âThat? Is exactly what the fuck I wanted to hear.â
He pulled your panties to the side while pressing you against the wall and entered you completely, not giving you time to adjust. Your mouth fell open into an "o" shape at how deep he went. You both let out a satisfied groan before his thrusts became steady and fast.
"Oh my goddd! It's so.. so.." You tried to finish your sentence but he took your breath away, so he finished it for you.
"Big. I know baby, and I am balls fucking deep in you right now. Taking me like a champ. I am so. fucking. proud. of you baby girl." He grunted while he spoke filthy words in your ear and you held onto him tight.
Burying your face into the side of his neck, you cried from the overwhelming fullness. Each one of his thrusts made your stomach tighten and your vision became blurry as you moaned loudly in his ear.
"Goddamn it, you feel so good wrapped around my dick. Who do you belong to?â
âYou! Negan!â
âThatâs fucking right, baby. You are mine.â He pumped into you harder, making you see stars as his hands squeezed your ass cheeks hard enough to leave bruises.
You could hear the guards talking right outside, knowing they could enter at any moment, but the thought of getting caught was even more thrilling. Your orgasm was coming quickly and so hard it made your eyes water.
"Ohhh fuck, I can feel you throbbing baby. Let me have it, cum for daddy." He sank his teeth into your neck, undoubtedly leaving a hickey.
âNegan! Negan! Iâm cumming!â You screamed.
âShit doll, me too. Fuck, fuck.â Negan groaned loudly as he came inside of you. He kissed you before setting you down on your feet and pulling out of you. Seconds later you felt your panties pool with his warm liquid and all you wanted to do in that moment was taste it.
"Goddamn that was exactly what I fuckin' needed!" He laughed, zipping himself back in his pants. "But I am nowhere near done with you, darlin'. How would you like stay in my room tonight?
"I thought.. that was just for your wives.."
"Jesus, I am so sorry." He said sarcastically. "I assumed you were one of them now considering I just fucked your brains out?"
Was he.. asking me to be his wife?
"Oh.. um. I mean, I want to be, so..." You paused, waiting for him to continue.
"If you're expecting a formal proposal, don't." He chuckled. "The only time you'll see me on my knees is when I'm eating that sweet pussy. Now sweetheart, we were not finished with our conversation outside. Let's go." He picked up Lucille and you followed him back outside, listening to his happy whistle as the rest of the group went silent and stared at us awkwardly.
Oh god, they totally heard everything.
"Continue." Negan demanded.
Simon cleared his throat and continued talking to the group. You shifted uncomfortably at the warmth in your panties, trying to focus on what they were saying but Negan's breath against your ear distracted you.
"Those panties stay on for the rest of the day. No exceptions."
summary As you search the pharmacy, you run into a familiar face.
cw violence, murder, mention of infidelity, mentions of child death, vague description of children as walkers, injuries, profanity, attempted theft, shitty ex husbands, i think that's it?
note i've never written fighting before but i figured it'd be like writing smut, but violent? idk man, it was a challenge. lmk your thoughts and any feedback, if you have it, would be appreciated!
2.3k words
Series Masterlist
The severity of the situation did little to strike fear into your heart. It was the end of the world, the dead were rising, and there were already so many other worries that held your focus that this felt like a huge inconvenience, rather than a life or death dilemma. A frustrated sigh left your lips as your turned to face the owner of the gun with your hands raised in surrender. The gun holder was a shabby, malnourished looking man whose hair was matted and overgrown. He looked to be in such an awful state that you almost wanted to hand him the medicines out of sheer pity. That was until a familiar voice, a voice youâd never forget, said your name in the form of a question.Â
âI-is that really you?â He asked, his aim faltering for a split second. The pity you had felt at first morphed into hurt, which was quickly washed away by a wave of rage.Â
âTrent?â You spat the name of your ex husband. While you were technically not divorced, you still referred to him as an ex husband and since the world ended, there were no laws to keep you from doing so. He still kept the gun pointing at you, which boiled your blood even more.Â
âWhat the fuck are you doing out here? I thought you left!â Your voiced dripped with pure hatred and venom for the man that abandoned his family in the midst of the apocalypse.Â
âI.. I did, b-but I came back.âÂ
âThereâs nothing for you here. Leave,â you demanded. He cocked the gun and moved his finger to the trigger, fixing his aim on your head, but you didnât falter.Â
âIâm not leaving, not without that medicine.â You reached into the bag and pulled out the allergy pills and chucked it at his head, causing him to flinch and fumble to catch it.Â
âThatâs all Iâm giving you, now get out of my fucking way!â You slung your bag over your shoulders and picked up your hammer, but his firm grasp on your arm stopped you.Â
âBaby, please. I donât wanna hurt you, but I need that medicine.â You tore your arm from his hold and swung at him, your fist colliding with his hollow cheek. He stumbled backward, almost tripping over his feet, but he caught himself on one of the shelves.Â
âDonât you fucking dare!â you lifted your hammer over his head and brought it down with full force, but he caught the wooden handle just before the metal end could greet his skull. His arms shook as he fought against your hold.Â
âIâm s-sorry! Please! Donât k-kill me. I have a family,â he begged. All you could see was red. How dare he use the family he chose to leave as a bargaining chip for his worthless life.Â
âYou had a family and you chose to leave them,â you growled as you yanked the hammer from him.Â
âN-no, you donât understââ his own pained scream cut him off after you slammed the hammer into his shoulder, causing him to drop the gun. It slid across the floor and under the shelf. Shoving him out of the way, you lunged for the gun, blindly feeling for it underneath the shelf. Your fingers curled around the handle and you pulled it from its hiding place.Â
âNo. You donât understand. You have no family because your kids are fucking dead!â You pointed the gun at him now as he cowered in fear, clutching his shoulder in pain.Â
âDead?â He whimpered. Tears fell from his eyes, leaving clean streaks on his dirty face.Â
âKilled by the dead all because,â your voice shook as the memory of that day brought angry tears to your eyes, âbecause you ran away to screw my best friend when you shouldâve been being their fucking father!â You screamed. You couldnât see his own grief stricken face through your tears as you pushed down on the trigger. The gun was jammed and nothing came out. You screamed in frustration and tossed the useless weapon aside before reaching for your own gun. He tackled you to the ground before you could unholster it. He, too, was seething with anger.Â
âWhy are you putting the blame on me, when youâre their fucking mother!â His filthy hands encircled your throat, cutting off your airways as he sobbed. Your vision blurred, not only from your inability to breathe, but from hitting your head on the ground when he tackled you.Â
âI have a baby on the way, and I know for a fact that Sierra will be a far better mother than you could ever dream of being! So give me my medications so I can make sure sheâll live to see that day.â His biting words were only background noise to the ringing in your ears. You thrashed beneath him as you tried to pull his hands from your throat. When they wouldnât budge, you sank your nails into his flesh, slowly dragging them up his hand. As his skin tore, warm blood flowed from the wounds while he screamed in pain and reflexively pulled his hands away. You took advantage of the opening shoved him off of you, knocking him to the ground. Your sledgehammer wasnât too far out of reach, so you grabbed it and used it as a support to help you stand through your dizzy spell.Â
âShe can be a good mother on her own, just like I was, because youâre not going home to your new family.â You swung the hammer at his head, but he just barely dodged the deadly hit. No matter how hard he tried, he couldnât say anything that would convince you to spare his life. He deserved to die, in your opinion. Whenever you sat and reflected on your life, almost every bad thing could be traced back to him. By some odd stroke of luck he didnât deserve, he kept dodging your hits and you were starting to become tired. You already werenât on your A game after having taken a few hits.
âY-youâre fucking crazy, you know that!â He hissed as he struggled to his feet. Fed up with his entire existence, you tossed the hammer aside and successfully unholstered your gun. He lunged at you at the same time you fired the the gun. The bullet only grazed him as you collided with the wall behind you. It was true that evil never dies. You ducked just in time to avoid the punch he threw at your face. You threw your entire body weight onto him, sending him back to the ground. He let out a pained grunt once his head slammed against the cold tile. His state of disorientation served as the perfect opportunity to land a punch across his face, then another, and another. He writhed in pain beneath you as he tried to fight you off of him. The pain of his face against your fists didnât phase you because the revenge felt too great. He deserved every bit of this pain, yet it still would never compare to the pain your kids probably felt when the dead ate them alive, the pain you felt when you came back home from a run and found their half-eaten, living-dead bodies stumbling around around with him nowhere to be seen. His scratched up hands blindly clawed at you as he begged for his life between sobs of anguish. Those sobs were nothing but music to your ears, so melodious to you that your own sobs didnât register to you as your own.Â
âPlease,â he croaked through his swollen, bloodied mouth, âlet me at least be there for one of my kids,â he begged. His words gave you pause, freezing you in your position with your fists balled as you straddled his waist. Sparing him hadnât once crossed your mind, but in that moment, you almost considered it. Almost. But that thought quickly flew out the window when he mustered up enough strength to toss you off of him, leaving you face down on the cold, dirtied tile. He roughly gripped the back of your head in his big hand, lifting it up before slamming it to the floor and holding you down as you struggled to get up. His grip released as he quickly stood up, trying to speedily limp away with your bag of medicine and medical supplies tossed over his shoulder. Dizzy and with your nose and mouth stinging in pain, you grabbed onto his ankle at the very last second, causing him to stumble. He didnât fall, though, and instead continued to drag his beaten body toward the door, with you slowing him down.Â
 You felt defeated. All this effort you put up just to lose to the same man youâve already lost to so many times. Seeing him again dredged up so many painful memories, reopening recently inflicted wounds and scratching at old scars. Giving up would be so easy. The pain and dizziness that surged throughout your head and the coppery taste in your mouth were compelling cases on why you should. But your hatred overpowered your exhaustion.Â
Finding a hammer in that boutique felt like striking gold. Daryl had found it in a random drawer behind the registerâs counter, along with other clutter that was left over from a construction project of some sorts. He grabbed it and made quick work of using the claw to pry the nails from the wooden boards. Once he removed what he deemed to be enough wood, he looked around, expecting to see you standing by. You not being there sent his alarm bells ringing. There were plenty of things you could have been doing other than looking for a hammer and he knew you could handle yourself, but heâd still preferred to be safe than sorry.Â
He unsheathed his knife to have it ready lest he run into any trouble. His walk increased into a slight jog when he heard the cacophony of shouts and crashes coming from the pharmacy. With his knife held out in front of him, he crept inside the building at the same he heard the thud of a body colliding with the ground. At his feet, a man holding a bag laid face down on the floor with his hands held out, clawing at the tile. You -with blood leaking down your nose and from your mouth- crawled up toward the stranger and sat on his lower back, earning a pained groan from him since you knocked the wind out of him.
âDaryl, give me the knife!â You frantically screamed with your arm reached out for the weapon. Daryl was confused as all hell, but that didnât stop him from handing you the weapon- handle first. You muttered a thanks as you accepted it. You grabbed a fistful of the manâs ratty hair and lifted his battered face from the ground before slicing the knife across his throat. Daryl watched the life drain from the manâs eyes as the blood poured from his throat, oozing toward his feet. You let out a sigh of relief and handed him back his knife. You struggled to your feet and snatched the bag from the dead manâs hands.Â
âDidnât find a hammer,â you hunched over to catch your breath, âbut I found a shit ton of medical supplies!âÂ
âWhaâ happened back there?â He asked as the two of you left the building.Â
âAsshole tried to rob meâŠthen kill me,â you replied, omitting most of the story.
âYou okay?â He looked at your face with concern, but you waved him off and wiped the blood from your face with the back of your hand and walked ahead of him. Your head and face hurt and you were slightly dizzy, but other than that, you felt fine. Daryl was already doing enough by staying behind and helping out with your cabin, burdening him with something small like this would be too much. He didnât seem to believe you, but didnât press any further.Â
âFound a hammer and got the wood off the door. This outta be enough to patch that hole up,â he told you once the two of you returned to the outside of the boutique where he left the wood when he went to find you.Â
âOh. Nice,â you dismissively replied. You truly were grateful, but the pain and dizziness you were experiencing made it hard to focus on anything. You set the bag down before gently lowering yourself to a sitting position on the curb. You closed your eyes and rested your head in your hands.Â
âHey. You sure you alright?âÂ
âUh huh, just need to sit down for a bit before we get goinâ.âÂ
Daryl looked around at the surrounding area to make sure there were no walkers nearby. There was a few hours of sunlight left, just enough to get back to your cabin before nightfall, but only if you left now. As for walkers, other than the odd straggler, the area was relatively clear.
âIf we wanna make it back âfore nightfall, we should probably get goinâ.â
âYeah, youâre right,â you agreed, despite not feeling any better. You stood up, the throbbing pain and dizzy spell making it difficult. Daryl dropped the wood and caught you when you stumbled. Had you not been injured, youâd have been internally squealing and giggling because he caught you and held you upright in his arms.Â
âNah, somethinâs wrong,â he commented as he examined your face.Â
You weakly swatted his hands away, but they didnât go anywhere. âIâm fine, I just hit my head once or twice,â you admitted a little too nonchalantly for his liking.Â
âThink you got a concussion or somethinâ,â he hypothesized. You gently removed his hands from your shoulders and picked your bag up off from the floor.Â
âWe should stay here âtil morninâ so you can get some rest.â As much as you wanted to push back , to disagree and keep going, you knew you needed the rest. He took the bag from you and picked up the wood boards before leading you into the boutique.
note hi, it's me again. with finals and graduation season coming, updates are gonna be a little slower (not that they were very frequent before lmao). i thank you all for your patience <3. also i have my AP Lit test tmr, so wish me luck =[
pairing Young! Daryl Dixon x Young! F!Reader to Prison Era! Daryl Dixon x F! Reader
summary Daryl makes up for everything he wasn't able to do for you on prom night,
cw a very small amount of angst, fluff, happy couples
3.3k words
20 something or so years agoâŠ.
You nervously rocked back and fourth on the heels of your feet, anxiously waiting for Daryl to walk by. Despite him often skipping school, you knew for a fact he was here today, so today would be the day youâd make your move. As your eyes scanned the crowded hallway, they finally landed on your target.Â
âDaryl, hey!â You greeted as you hurried to catch up to him. He stepped aside to the wall of lockers, getting out of the way of the crowd. He noticed the way you wouldnât look him in the eyes and nervously chewed on your bottom lip.Â
âYou okay?â He asked with concern.Â
âYeah, umââ you took deep breath, âI was, uh, wonderingâŠif yâknow? UmâŠâ He looked at you with a bored expression on his face, growing impatient with your inability to just get to the point. You took in another deep breath, albeit it was more shaky this time. âAreyougoingtoprom?âÂ
âWha?â His face morphed into a look of confusion, not having understood a word that came out of your mouth. âAre you g-going to prom?â You asked more clearly this time. The look on his face was an odd mix of amusement and disgust.Â
âNah, yâknow I ainâ into that shit,â he said before walking past, but you gently grabbed his arm, effectively stopping him in his tracks.Â
âCâmon, Daryl! It could be fun,â you whined. He turned to face you again. âWait, you gonna go?âÂ
âY-yeah! I mean, only if youâll go with me.â
âAs a date?â He only grew more baffled with each question he asked. Your cheeks grew hot with embarrassment and you were staring to wish a massive sinkhole would open up and swallow you whole. You nodded your head fiercely, too afraid to speak for your voice may betray the confident facade you were doing your best to maintain. Darylâs entire face flushed a fiery crimson color as he opened and closed his mouth like a fish on land. You both stood there awkwardly and unable to speak.Â
âEr, I gottaâŠgo,â he rushed out before hurrying off. You watched him leave, internally slapping yourself in the face for thinking heâd wanna go with you as your date.Â
âââ
For the rest of the week, Daryl played the interaction over and over and over again in his head. Out of all the ways he couldâve responded, he somehow picked the worst one- running away. Of all the years heâs known you, he never got the impression that you were the type to be into that stuff. That alone shocked him, so it was no surprise that his mind nearly exploded when you wanted him to be his date.
You and him were good friends, maybe even best friends. Youâve been attached at the hip ever since freshman year. He and you would sometimes skip class together to smoke behind the bleachers, catch frogs in the creek after school, eat lunch together, comfort each other during rough times, watch movies together at your house all night, stuff that friends did. But going to prom together as dates? That was new, uncharted territory that he was far too afraid to explore. He wasnât ready to buy a tux he couldnât afford, stumble though dance moves he didnât know while holding you uncomfortably close, then drop you off at your house before your curfew. It was all too scary. You deserved someone whoâd actually give you a good time, someone that wasnât him.Â
The door slamming open and his brother stumbling through, still intoxicated, tore him from his downward spiral of self deprecating thoughts. He wanted to ask him for advice on what he should do, but he already knew all heâd get was mockery for even considering going to a school dance. Before Merle could even comment on his sullen disposition, Daryl got up and left, opting to take a walk in the woods to clear his head.Â
He immediately regretted his decision when he saw you sitting by the creek, sadly poking at a muddy puddle with a stick. He was gonna turn around and pretend that he didnât see you, but it was too late. You were already looking at him as you waved meekly. He bit the bullet and just walked over to you, taking a seat next to you on the damp ground.Â
âHey,â you muttered, not looking at him.Â
âHey,â he replied. An awkward silence followed, which is something thatâs never happened before. The silences between you two were always comfortable. You both were going to say something, but accidentally cut each other off, leading to an even more awkward silence.Â
âI didnât mean to make things awkward by asking you to prom. Iâm sorry. I shouldâve known you wouldnât wanna go, especially not as my date.â Daryl could hear the lump in your throat as you fought back tears, making his own heart sink. You couldnât be farther from the truth, though. Heâd never pass up spending time with you in any capacity. You only had one senior prom and he didnât want to ruin it for you. You were smart, sweet, and beautiful; someone worthy of a person who can give you the world, but he didnât have the world to give.Â
âSânot true. Iâd have gone with ya, but you deserve a better date than me,â he admitted. Your head snapped in his direction, your teary eyes boring into his.Â
âThere is no one better, Daryl. Youâre my best friend!â You argued.Â
âDonâ mean Iâd make a good prom date,â he countered.Â
âWouldnât know if ya didnât try!âÂ
âââ
Knots churned in Darylâs stomach as he stood outside of your house. His hand shook as he reached for the doorbell. He quickly withdrew his hand, growing more nervous with every second that passed and he didnât ring the doorbell. The door swung open, revealing your father who towered over the scared boy, staring him down.Â
âYou gonna come in, or just stand there all night, son?â He asked. Mortified at being caught, he followed the man inside the house, looking around the familiar, nicely decorated place in search for you.Â
âDarylâs here, come down,â your father yelled.Â
âComing!â Daryl looked up the stairs as you came down. You looked like a princess in your long, elegant dress with your hair styled to the nines, and makeup done. He always found you beautiful, but this was something entirely different. He couldnât help but gawk at you as he stood there, blushing. He suddenly felt silly as he stood there in a borrowed tux that was too big for him with a tie he didnât know how to tie knotted clumsily around his neck.Â
âW-wow. You lookâŠI- YerâŠâÂ
âThanks!â You said, saving him the trouble of finding his words. You stood in front of him, admiring how nicely he cleaned up. Youâd never seen him in anything like it before and it suited him.Â
âH-here!â He said as he clumsily shoved the bouquet of wildflowers he picked into your hands. You gracefully accepted them, admiring the sweet gesture.Â
âAlright, let me get a picture of you two,â your dad said, camera already in his hand. He set the camera down for a second and approached Daryl, quickly untangling a re-tying his tie properly. âOkay, now smile you two!â You linked your arm in his and leaned your head on his shoulder as he stood there stiffly. After the flash of the polaroid camera went off, Daryl relaxed a little.Â
âDaryl,â you father said after clapping a firm hand on his shoulder, âI trust youâll have her back by curfew?âÂ
âYes, sir,â he promised.Â
âOkay, great! Can we go now?â You whined. Your father shook his head at your eagerness and saw the two of you off.Â
The loud music thumped in the schoolâs tackily decorated gymnasium. Silvery streamers hung from the ceiling, reflecting the purplish lights that illuminated the place. Tables with punch and store-bought snacks lined the gym, encircling the patch of floor that was turned into a makeshift dance floor. Near that were circular tables clad in plastic table cloths, surrounded by chairs for people to have a seat and a snack. On the other end, there was a backdrop surrounded by balloons in the schoolâs colors and a table of props nearby. A photographer stood by, idly waiting for students to come get their picture taken. Arm in arm, you and Daryl entered.Â
âWanna dance?â You shouted over the music. You already knew the answer, but held out hope that maybe youâd be wrong.Â
âNah, sânot really my thing,â he replied. While that was true, an even bigger part of him was scared of embarrassing himself in front of you with his inability to dance.Â
âOh, thatâs okay. Wanna get our picture taken?âÂ
âDonâ really like pictures,â he replied, full of guilt. He felt bad turning down every activity you wanted to do, but he was feeling so uneasy and out of place. Your face fell, but you plastered on a fake smile so quickly that he almost convinced himself that he imagined it.Â
âWell, what do you wanna do?â You followed him to one of the tables and sat down after he pulled out a chair for you. He disappeared off to grab some punch for you both before coming back and handing you a cup. You sat there with your head resting in your hand, a dull look upon your face. Daryl knew he wasnât cut out to be your date to prom and was regretting agreeing to be. He was just wasting your last prom as he wallowed in his insecurities. Ultimately, you got all gussied up just to sit around and do nothing but drink room temperature fruit punch.Â
âYou can go dancinâ without me, if you want,â he suggested after a while of silence. All he was was a ball and chain keeping you tethered to him when instead you should be out there having a great time.Â
âI didnât ask you to be my date just so I could go dancing by myself!â You huffed.Â
âI told you that I donâ do this typa shit!â He snapped.Â
âWell then why the hell did you come?!â He really didnât know why he came, it just felt right. You seemed so excited to go and if him going with you would make you happy, heâd jump at the opportunity to do it. But he jumped into the deep end without knowing how to swim and he was now drowning. It felt like everything he did was the wrong thing and the things he could to to make up for it were far too intimidating.
âYer the one that told me to try. This is me tryinâ!âÂ
âYouâre not tryinâ! Youâre just sittinâ around on your ass, moping.âÂ
âAinâ nothinâ else to do in this shit hole!â He argued.Â
âWe could dance, we could, get our picture taken, we could even just talk for god sakes! If you donât like me, thatâs fine, but you shouldâve just told me.âÂ
âBut I do like ya. Yer my friend?âÂ
âNo, Daryl. I like you.â His jaw visibly dropped at the revelation, but you just rolled your eyes, thinking it shouldâve been obvious. He floundered as he thought of what to say, but nothing came out. Someone having feelings for him in that way never crossed his mind, least of all you. You shifted in your seat uncertainly as you silently begged for him to say something. The mortification you felt when nothing came from his mouth was overwhelming. Your entire face felt hot as tears burned in the corners of your eyes, a cold sweat accompanying the knots tying in your stomach.Â
âWanna get outta here?â He asked though the dryness in his mouth. Your eyes widened in shock, but you nodded uncertainly, nonetheless.Â
âThese tickets were like eighty bucks a pop, but sure, why not.â You accepted the hand he held out to you, grateful that they were just as clammy as yours.Â
âââ
It was almost comical how you and Daryl were dressed to the nines just to eat crappy gas station hot dogs and slurpees on a park bench. Daryl seemed more at ease one he took off his blazer and tie and unbuttoned a few buttons. You were more comfortable too after having kicked your heels off.Â
âIf I had asked you on a date that wasnât prom,â you took a sip of your slurpee, âwould you have said yes?â He stopped chewing his hot dog for a second, before resuming as he thought.Â
âDunnoâŠmaybe?âÂ
âMaybe?â You laughed. Darylâs cheeks flushed a pink hue which was barely visible under the dim streetlight. As badly as you wanted to ask him what it was about you that was making him so unsure, you didn't. That would've pushed him away even further and he was just now barely getting back to his usual stuff.
âI-itâs okay. Iâm having a good time with you right now. Date or not. Thatâs all that matters, right?â Your smile was sad, but your words were still genuine.Â
â âM havinâ a good time with ya, too,â he muttered. You scooted closer to him and rested your head on his shoulder, a position you usually assumed when he was around. But he flinched a little bit, the new context of your feelings making every move seem a bit awkward. He relaxed, though, since having you by his side was second nature by now.Â
It felt like hours passed by on that bench. The hot dogs and slurpees were long gone and the two of you were just talking and laughing, reminiscing about old memories as you passed back and forth a cigarette. Daryl glanced down at his watch and cursed to himself.Â
"It's past your curfew," he said as he hurriedly stood up.Â
"Already!? Damn," you sighed as you put your heels back on. You stood up, slightly wobbling and wincing at the way the shoes dug into your feet.Â
"Y'alright?" he asked.Â
"I'm fine," you lied as you took clumsy steps away from the bench.Â
"Yer feet hurtin'? C'mon, I'll carry ya." He crouched down and held his arms out behind him so he could give you a piggy back ride, but you just laughed.Â
"Daryl, you don't have to do that. It's like a forty-five minute walk. I'll be fine," you insisted.Â
"Jus' c'mon, girl." You sighed but gave in, nonetheless. You adjusted your dress before grabbing his shoulders and hopping onto his back. He caught you and readjusted you to a more comfortable position.Â
Daryl confused you. One minute he's saying he's not sure how he feels about you, but then he turns around and offers to carry you for all three miles back to your house. Is that something someone does for one who's just a friend? Either way, you were grateful for the boy and you didn't want to lose him just because of your feelings. People like him really were one in a million.Â
Daryl gently set you down on your front porch once he walked up to your house.Â
"Thanks," you said at the same time he uttered a "sorry."Â
"For what?" he and you asked simultaneously.Â
"Sorry fer ruinin' yer whole night. Not dancin' with ya or takin' any pictures."Â
"Oh. I was gonna thank you for comin' out with me tonight even though school dances aren't really your scene." His blue eyes- full of remorse- met yours- full of joy- before you both shared a small laugh. His heart started beating a thousand miles a minute when you stepped closer to him until you were toe to toe. Delicate hands held either of his shoulders as you rose to your tip-toes and placed a quick peck to his cheek. He was sure his entire face was comparable to a lobster in that moment, but he was too distracted by the soft, beautiful smile you were giving him to feel embarrassed.Â
"G'nite, Daryl."Â
Present Day...Â
Daryl stood in the watchtower, staring out in the open fields surrounding the prisonâs fences. As per usual, rows upon rows of walkers fought against the chain link fencing. The poor fence would have to give eventually.Â
âHey,â you greeted, almost startling the man.Â
âHey. Whatâre you doinâ up?â You shrugged your shoulders, but with his back turned, Daryl couldnât see the motion. You took a seat on the floor beside where he stood and got comfortable. When he realized you werenât going to leave, he put down the binoculars and sat beside you. You nuzzled your head onto his shoulder like you used to all those years ago. Unlike the nervous teenage boy he used to be, Daryl rested his head atop yours. He was happy to have found you again and refused to waste a minute of time on being unsure about you.Â
He was sure, now, that he loved you. He was even sure that he loved you way back then and just didnât know what to do about it. But when he found you in that bus amongst the other Woodburians, he made a promise to himself that heâd love you the way heâs been too afraid to in the past.Â
âYâknow whaâ tânite reminds me of,â he asked. You hummed in response, prompting him to go on.Â
âThat night we left prom.â You sat up and looked at him with pleasant shock.Â
âYou still remember that night?â It made you happy that even after all the time that has passed, he remembered. You held memories of that night close to your heart, especially since it was one of your last ones with Daryl before you moved across the country for college.Â
âOâcourse.âÂ
âI wish I had pictures from that day. I remember you looking so handsome,â you mused. Daryl felt bad, even decades later, for being the reason you had no pictures to remember that day by. He kinda wished he had one now, too.
âYou looked like a princess that day, still do.â
âOh, stop!â You teased, burying your burning face in your hands. Suddenly, he stood up and held a hand out to help you up. Your confused face was illuminated by the pale moonlight that shone through the tower.Â
âWe donâ got no pictures an itâs too late fer us to take any now, but I can still dance with ya.â Never in your lifetime did you expect to hear Daryl fucking Dixon ask you to dance. Happy tears blurred your vision as you squeezed him into a bear hug.Â
âYouâre so sweet, Daryl. But you donât have to do this. You hate dancing a-and thereâs no music soâŠâ Your sentence trailed off as you felt Daryl placing your hands on his shoulders before he placed his on either side of your waist.
âDonâ need no music, jusâ hum one of them tunes you used to play on yer piano.â Knowing Daryl remembered so many things about you made your heart swell. The two of you swayed clumsily in each otherâs arms as you hummed the tune of Shostakovichâs Waltz No.2. Daryl kept accidentally stepping on your toes, but you didnât care. His blue eyes shone so beautifully with happiness in the moonlight as he looked at you with so much love. You were beaming at him. The teenage girl inside of you was so happy that she finally got her moment with the boy of her dreams and the adult you were now wouldnât have had it any other way (well, maybe minus the end of the world). The song came to an end, stopping your humming but Daryl still held you close. Your eyelids fluttered shut as you leaned into him, meeting his chapped lips with yours. His hands moved from your waist to your face, cupping it in his big, warm hands as he kissed you so gently, yet lovingly.Â
He was too afraid to say it then, but now, he had the confidence he was lacking. Plus, now was the perfect moment.Â
âI love you.âÂ
âI love you, too, Daryl.âÂ
wrote this bc i'm salty ab not having a prom date >=[
cw established relationship, smut, unprotected p in v, pet names, pussy eating, needles (for tattoos), idk how to do tattoos so i apologize in advance for any inaccuracies
note omg i had a jolly good time writing this! tysm for the request =] i did lowkey tweak it slightly, but nothing major, i pinky promise
2.1k words
âI donât think thereâs anything else we can get outta this place,â you commented as you placed the only can- a can of cranberry sauce from who knows how long ago- into your backpack. You looked around, only seeing more bare shelves and Daryl. You smiled, a natural reaction you had whenever you saw him. He wrapped his strong arm around your shoulder, pulling you close before placing a kiss to your hairline.Â
âWe should take a look aâ these other stores âfore we start headinâ back,â he suggested as he guided you out the store, arm still wrapped snugly around you. You nodded your head in silent agreement, following beside him. It was hard to tell what most of the other buildings were since they were all dirty with broken or boarded up windows, but one in particular caught your eye.Â
âHey, look! A tattoo shop,â you pointed at the building, âLetâs go check it out!â You hurried toward it, semi-dragging Daryl with you.Â
âThe hell we gonna find at a tattoo shop?â He asked, seeming genuinely confused at why the hell youâd wanna go.Â
âHopefully more than some nasty ass canned cranberry sauce.â He couldnât disagree with you there, so he fell in line with your fast paced steps toward the shop.Â
 You both entered the shop with knives drawn in case any walkers decided to stumble out of the shadows. Nothing came when the two of you made noise in an attempt to draw them out, so you sheathed your knife and went all the way inside, Daryl in tow. The shop was small, which allowed the sunlight shining through the window to fill it. The walls were covered in framed pictures of tattoo designs, although they were covered in dust. The shop itself was in fairly good shape, considering. You and Daryl split off in different directions in search of anything that could be brought back to the prison. You couldnât find anything that wasnât tattoo related, which wasnât surprising since this was a tattoo shop. What you did find, though, was a lot more exciting. Everything that you would need to do a tattoo was all there, right in front of you.Â
âFind anything?â Daryl asked once he found you again.Â
âYes and no?âÂ
âWhaâs that sâpose to mean?â He asked.Â
âThereâs still everything here to do tattoos with, isnât that cool?âÂ
âWe gonâ get matchin' tattoos or somethinâ? He teased.Â
"Not a bad idea, Dixon," you mused. You patted the seat and he sat down after setting aside his crossbow and got comfortable. You thought about what to put on him. You had so many ideas that you may as well have had none.Â
"Wha's goin' on in there?" he asked. It was something that he'd say whenever he noticed you deep in thought.Â
"I don't even know what to put on ya," you admitted as you traced lazy lines on his bare arm with your finger, "or where to put it."Â Your face brightened when an idea finally passed through your head. You grabbed his arm and turned his hand to face upward before wiping a spot on his wrist clean with the alcohol wipe you got lucky enough to find. You unpackaged a needle before dipping it into the ink cap. Since there wasn't any power, you'd have to do a stick and poke. You were vaguely familiar with them from a time of experimentation during your teen years. With your non-dominant hand, you stretched his skin before getting to work on your design. You could feel Daryl trying to take a peek at what you were doing, but you purposely blocked his view with your head each time. You worked slowly and carefully, doing your best to make something cute despite not even being an amateur.Â
âOkay, you can look now,â you muttered timidly as you handed him back his arm. You werenât sure if heâd like it or not and were starting to regret not finding a pen and making a sketch to run by him for approval first. But, it was too late now and all you could do was hope for the best. He brought his wrist closer to his face to get a better look. It was simple, a small love heart with his first initial plus yours. It looked like something a girl would doodle in her notebook while daydreaming about her crush.Â
âSâcute,â he said as he admired the tattoo with a small, but genuine, smile on his face. His bright blue eyes looked up at you, filled with all the love and adoration in the world. âI love it.â You couldnât help but smile at him. âYou wanna gimme a matching one?â You joked, referencing his earlier comment. He glanced out the window, the sun was setting and it was likely you and him would have to spend the night here if he and you stayed for one more tattoo. Some privacy with you, alone, away from everyone at the prison sounded like heaven, and matching tattoos were a bonus.Â
âSure.â He got out of the seat and you got in.Â
âYou wanâ it in the same place?âÂ
You thought about it for a second. âI want it somewhere special, in a place for only you to see.â The rosy tint that blossomed on his cheeks wasnât missed by you. You found it endearing how he sometimes grew flustered at your flirtation, despite it being nothing new.Â
âYeah? Whereâs that?â He asked.Â
âI dunno, Daryl. You pick,â you insisted with a smug look upon your face. He made quick work of unbuttoning your jeans and you lifted your hips to assist him in pulling them down all the way to your ankles. He stepped away and grabbed a new needle and ink. With another alcohol wipe, he cleaned a spot on your inner thigh before comfortably situating himself on his knees between your legs. You felt the small, frequent pokes of the needle as he got to work on the tattoo. Seeing him on his knees between your thighs made your stomach flutter. You knew that was his favorite place to be and having the tattoo there seemed like he was marking it as his own. As he was working, his hand accidentally brushed against your clit, eliciting a whine from you. He paused his work and glanced up at you, struggling to hide the smirk that tugged at his lips. You avoided his eye and he got back to work, but his hand bumped your clit more often. Each time left you desperate for more. You so badly wanted to close your legs and rub your thighs together or reach down and get yourself off, but you had to stay still. His hand brushed against you once more, causing you to squirm a little.Â
âKeep still.âÂ
You glared down at him. âIâm trying to, but you keep-â He did it again and this time you were one hundred percent sure it was on purpose. Grumbling under your breath, you leaned back against the seat and did your best to keep still as he finished up. Once he was done, he wiped off the excess ink.Â
âWe should probably secure the place since weâre gonna be spendinâ the night here,â he suggested.Â
âBut Daryl,â you whined, âyou canât just leave me like this. You knew what you were doing earlier!âÂ
"Wha? Givin' you a tattoo?" You huffed and rolled your eyes and reached down to pull your pants back up, but he stopped you.Â
"I'm jus' playin' darlin'. Sit back." He gently pushed you back into the chair before getting back on his knees. Slowly, he pulled your panties down to your ankles with your formerly discarded pants and yanked them both off over your shoes. He firmly gripped your hips and pulled you to the edge of the seat and placed your legs over his shoulders. Feeling his hot tongue lick up and down your soaked slit had you gripping the arm rests for support. With his thumb, he rubbed slow, teasing circles on your hard clit. His tongue was a welcome intrusion in your soaked entrance. You gasped and moaned out his name and your hands flew to his hair, your fingers getting tangled in his soft locks. This motivated him to rub faster circles on your clit, earning more gasps and moans from you. His tongue thrusted in and out of your dripping cunt as he tasted all of your juices, refusing to let any go to waste. You tugged his hair as your thighs involuntarily clamped around his head and he moaned unexpectedly, the vibrations from it bringing you closer to the edge. Your walls clenched around the pink muscle as he focused it on that one spot that always did things to you.Â
"Daryl, please! I'm so close," you whined, desperate for him to bring you to your orgasm. If he weren't trapped between your plush thighs, he would've talked you through it, but instead he moved his lips to your clit and started sucking on it while prodding the bud with his tongue. You squeezed your eyes shut as the white hot waves of pleasure overtook your body. Daryl worked faster once he felt you tense up and your thighs convulsing around his head. Your fingers tightened in his hair as your toes curled. You could the vibration of his pleasured grunts against your soft flesh.Â
"I'm gonna-" your back arched and head fell back as he pushed you over the edge, immersing you in a world of pleasure. He continued to lap at your pussy as you rode out your orgasm. Once you came down from that high, you relaxed and slumped against the chair. Daryl reluctantly freed himself from between your thighs since he needed to catch his breath again. His dick was straining against his pants with how hard he was just from hearing your sounds of pleasure and tasting your pretty pussy. And now, just seeing your fucked out face made him want to cum in his pants.Â
 In one quick swipe, he cleared a nearby table of all its supplies. He picked you up from the chair with ease, tossing you over his shoulder before gently laying you onto the table. He made quick work of freeing his erection from his pants and stroked it a few times, causing precum to bubble up on the angry red tip. He lined it up with your slit, rubbing it up and down your slick folds teasingly.Â
"So wet fer me, baby," he groaned as he lined himself up with your needy hole. You wrapped your legs around his hips, desperate for him to fill you up. Your body welcomed him as he slid in easily.Â
"Yer takin' me so good, sunshine." He leaned down and connected his lips with yours. You moaned as you tasted yourself on his tongue. His tongue danced with yours as you kissed each other passionately. Large, rough hands palmed at your clothed tits as he started thrusting into you. Frustrated with your shirt, he hurriedly pulled it over your head before attaching his lips to your neck, roughly sucking and biting your skin. His tongue slid over your carotid artery, feeling how fast your heart was beating. You clumsily tugged at his shirt and vest, a silent plea for him to take them off, which he did. When he was with you, his insecurities were non existent. You tightly gripped his shoulders, nails digging hollow indents into his skin as he increased the pace of his thrusts.Â
"Feel so good," you slurred. He kissed open mouthed kisses down your body, occasionally leaving marks in his wake. You squirmed and moaned beneath him, your second orgasm approaching fast. He was close too, you could feel it in the way his cock twitched inside you and his pace became slower snd less rhythmic.Â
"I'm boutta cum, baby," he groaned. You wanted to tell him you were, too, but your mind was a jumbled mess that was drunk off his cock. When your second orgasm came, your walls tightly hugged his shaft, squeezing him closer to his own climax. He quickly pulled out and stroked himself the rest of the way. His mouth fell open and eyes rolled back as he shot white hot ropes of cum all over your naked body.Â
 He collapsed into a nearby chair, panting for air. You slid off the table and joined him in the chair by sitting on his lap. Both your bodies were coated in the thin sheen of sweat as you held each other close as exhaustion took over your bodies.Â
