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#daryl dixon walking dead
celtic-crossbow · 4 months
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Y/N, giggling: You sneeze like a girl.
Daryl: How ‘bout I pound ya like a boy?
Daryl: …
Daryl: Tha’ didn’ come out righ’.
Y/N: I know what you meant. Your place or mine?
Daryl: Yers.
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daryldixonsjizzrag · 2 months
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Daryl dixon comfort/affection hcs <3
Gn reader
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He loves the smell of rain. It's definitely his favourite scent, but he doesn't like how his clothes stick to his body afterwards.
Likes laying his head on your lap when he's tired. He also finds it soothing when you gently trace his facial features with your fingertips, mostly his eyebrows. He'd never say anything about it though, not wanting to seem needy.
Will kiss you on the nose. 100%. You can not escape it.
Blushes when you catch him staring, though sometimes it depends on the scenario. Let's say, things aren't official yet, so when you catch him with that look in his eye and a smile ticking his lip up he gets really flustered, especially if you mention it.
In another scenario, when alone together, he'll look at you for as long as he likes. He'd just gaze at your face so softly, not bothering to cover up his smile.
Little spoon. Absolutely. Whether you're bigger or smaller than him, he loves it. The feeling of your torso pressing against his back, your legs touching, your arms around his waist.
BUT he loves cuddling facing each other more than anything, really. With your face in his hair, his tucked into your chest or neck, legs intertwined. Nothing could be better than that.
He's quite insecure of that one eyebag and the shape of his nose, so every time you say something about it, no matter how affectionate you're being, he still gets a little upset. Though after he grew his hair out his features complimented him a lot more and he grew a little less insecure.
Dislikes PDA. All that is for when you're alone. Even linking pinkies in public makes him a bit uncomfortable.
Alone, he's quite affectionate, especially when he's just woken up. Say, you go to the kitchen in the morning to get a drink. He'd sneak up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist from behind with no warning whatsoever. You couldn't find it in yourself to flinch though, knowing it's just him.
At the start, he didn't really think he deserved you. Fact is, he still doesn't. This lead to a few ruts in your relationship, but things were already sorted out by the end of the week, if not, day.
Will never admit it but he loves kisses on the top of the head, 'specially when you're cuddling. He thinks that light pressure of your lips on him, slightly softened by his hair is just so, so soothing.
LOVES it when you kiss the corner of his lip. Just mwah mwah chefs kiss.
If you've read this far, lmk what you think of these, and if you want, please request more!
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crustless-toast · 2 months
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Daryl Dixon is the kind of man that never forgets things! When you tell him something he remembers it. You tell him you love flowers but no one has ever gotten you any. Everytime he comes back from a run or from a hunt he brings you flowers 💐. You tell him your favorite animal. He brings back any and everything that has that animal on it. You tell him you love watching the sunset. He takes u out almost every night to watch it go down. You tell him you love reading romance books. Even if it embarresses him, he brings them back for you. He doesn't forget anything about you. Tell me I'm wrong?!?!
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darylsfavoritegirl · 2 months
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Can you do a Daryl fic where you fuck and then he says he’s not into labels :( and it makes u sad and comfort
I love this idea !!! lesss goo
A/N: Sorry if these are taking longer than you thought!! im putting myself all in between the breaks i manage to get from school lol. I liked this personally, not sure if i managed to put out a good "comfort" though but there you go anon!
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Your eyes flickered at Daryl's scars covering his entire back alongside of his tattoos that looked very much like to having been done by an amateur. You had been wondering their story for a long time now, yet never had the courage to question him vulgarly.
You moved your legs restlessly under the thin sheets, feeling his seeds sticking to your thighs and dripping onto the bed.
He was never at ease with such things. From the very beginning of your "relationship" that is, just warming eachother's bed on these aggravating days of the apocalpyse, where former human beings becoming foes to the geniune humanity. Hence, you always had to wait for him to leave first. There'd be nights so lewd, so scarlet that he'd feel adequate enough to let his guard down now and then. He'd fall next to you on the bed. He'd try to maintain his heaving chest as he'd cover up his downer body with sheets and would just lie down, your bodies so close to eachother, so warm that you'd feel sheltered against his bare skin. And then, he'd bend down to grab his denim jeans and take out the pack of cigarattes you'd looted from a walker's jackets earlier.
At times, there'd be enough to last you a week but at other times there'd be so little amount that you would share one. He would pass a cigaratte to you that he had taken a long drag of. You'd draw the cigaratte to your lips, savoring the tip of the cigaratte he'd moistened with his lips.
But on this specific night, both of you were high on joints. These thoughts entangled your mind as your attention shifted on the flexing muscles on his back while he put on a t-shirt.
You spoke your mind, without giving it a second thought nor being aware of his upcoming run with Glenn and Rick tomorrow early in the morning.
"Why don't you sleep here?" You uttered low, tracing your knuckles across the downy sheet incase he'd turn to face you, you couldn't dare.
"Why, are ya need in company?" He grunted in a headlessness manner as if to drop a joke. You despised how he practically didn't pay any attention to it.
You felt blood rushing to your face. The humid already made it unendurable to stay under the sheet and now this. You took deep, instable breaths.
"No." Your voice was unexpectedly trembling slightly. You shook your head as you scoffed. Now, he was facing you.
"It's just..." You were already in remorse, wishing you hadn't even started this conversation in the first place. You bit the inside of your cheek as you cracked your knuckles out of apprehension.
You felt his piercing gaze sticking upon your forehead, yet you rejected to meet with his gaze until you found something to say that didn't make you look, perhaps, desperate.
"It just gets lonely in this side of the prison." You uttered, finally lifting your head to see him buckling his jeans. You had expressed this countless times in conversations with a different context. Rick had decided to put you in a cellblock away from the others when you first joined them and he didn't change his decision ever since.
"Gon' ask me ta snuggle, too?" He quipped, a subtle sly smirk played on the corner of his lips. He tapped on his pockets as he scanned the small cell for his belongings that he might've dropped.
A sense of indignity overwhelmed you, leaving you feeling overstimulated. You couldn't grumble. He wasn't a boyfriend that owed you courtesy after screwing your brains out. He wasn't someone like that after all. Nonetheless, you loathed at the thought of a huge difference between men and women. How insensitive they could be, how insensitive he could be.
You were very well aware of your relationship, you'd both made it clear to not turn this into anything it wasn't. However, you couldn't resist the longing yearning in your heart.
"Jerk." You simply said as you turned your back to him. You placed your hands under the pillow, resting your head on it. All those thoughts, yet "jerk" was the only thing you made it through your lips. You locked your eyes on the shabby wall, slowly breathing as all you were hearing was his movements behind you. He was so dazed that he couldn't comprehend you nor your course of actions.
"Got'a get sum' shit done in the mornin'." He spoke to himself as he was wearing his leather boots.
"Ya know, with Glenn n' Rick." He added followed by his grunts as he leaned forward to tie his bootlaces.
"The sun shines on this side of the prison, too. You know?" You uttered quietly. Your tone must've caugh his attention as he stopped tying his laces and leaned back on the chair bit by bit. He sighed as he rested his hands on his knees.
"What the hell 's dis all 'bout?" He spoke low with an irritated tone. He scowled at not getting an answer from you.
You wrapped your hands around you, staring at him with softly quaking brows. He stood there with a clenched jaw, eyeing you with squinted eyes.
"Now ya dun' talk?" He spat, chewing his bottom lip as he grabbed his jacket on the bedside table.
"Ya damn well kno' how ta kill a good night." He scoffed derisively, hearing a exasperated sigh from you.
He turned his head to you, giving you a spine-chilling glare.
"Don't ya?" His voice grew taller as you observed the vein throbbing on his neck.
"Keep it down." You exclaimed, shifting your position on the bed in a rush. The bed sank under the weight of your knees as you incompetently tried to cover yourself with the sheets.
His eyes flicked through your bare body for a brief moment as he forced himself to look you in the eyes. You felt subjected to his deviant gaze, a sense of shame flooding your every cell.
"Nah." He firmly uttered.
"Rick threw ya in dis cellblock for a reason." His tone above a whisper.
" 'Cuz ya stir up sum' drama."
"All the damn time."
"Dun' miss a chance, like clockwork."
He locked his eyes on yours. Dark shadows roaming his face. Your face got hot as you had to wait to process his words, what they could've meant.
"Those joints have caused you a mental block." You hissed, not understanding even a bit why he would've say something like that.
"Fuck off." You shrugged your shoulders as you threw your body on the bed, leering at the ceiling.
"It ain't tha'." He uttered, you could sense him leaning against the wall.
"Then what? All this because I asked you to sleep with me?" Your hands met over your chest, crossed. You could hear his shallow breaths, contemplating the best thing to say. You knew he'd fail. A moment passed as neither of you spoke. He took a deep breath
" 'S cuz ya wanna go for childish fantasies." He grunted.
"Like 's sum' kinda game." He spoke, one could sense the palpable thickness of weariness in his voice. It was like he had questioned it a thousand time before you even brought it up. His heavy words lingered in the air, unraveling all the things he never even told you. You could sense it.
"It isn't." You abruptly begged. You needed him to know that you understood his way of seeings things, his way of seeing you. You knew you shouldn't corner him. You didn't.
"Forget it." He huffed with exhaustion as he left the cell.
"Night." You mumbled, knowing he didn't even hear you. You didn't even bother to get up and grab your clothes lying on the floor as you were nothing but flabbergasted. Your eyes were glued to the ceiling, hearing the cicadas singing outside of the prison.
A tear rolled down to your temple and your hand shifted to the side of your face reflexively. You sniffed your nose and shook your head in apace. You got up slowly, sitting on the edge of the bed fully naked. You sticked your eyes to the wall infront of you, fearsome of even uttering a word to yourself in this godforsaken cellblock.
You reached your hand to the panties he threw to the floor as all you could hear was muffled conversations from people on watch. You exhaled, the futile argument which broke out of nonsense didn't support your brain to not grow more lethargic thanks to the joints.
The world around you started to spin, leaving you out of kilter as you had to screw your eyes shut. You wore your bra and as you were done with clasping it, you drank what felt like a gallon of water.
You topped it with a dirty t-shirt and left your body uncovered to the humid of the south on your bed.
What did he think? That you were gonna be just fine with just fucking. How long before you started to feel things, that you wanted more.
You blamed yourself, too soon you thought. Maybe it wasn't. There was no way to know.
You woke up to the sun breaking through your eyelids. You fell asleep to overthinking hence the penetrating headache. You swallowed dryily as you tossed your body to the water bottle next to you and gulped it down agressively to a point where it dripped down your neck to the floor.
You spent your day within the fences of the prison casually, helping people run errands and talking about the run three of the solid men in your group went.
You were in the hall where you kept your food in, cleaning your pistol and weapons so that they're more handy. You furrowed due to your focus on the weapons when you heard a few sighs out of relief drawing near to the hall.
You lifted your head, awating to see who it was with your growing curiousity. Your face loosened at the sight of Daryl and lowered it to your weapons once again, exhaling subtly.
He put his crossbow and poncho on the table, fixating his eyes at you. You wrinkled your forehead, trying to ignore his existence but you were only growing to be distracted even more, with him standing there and observing you.
You suddenly lifted your gaze, exhaling exasperatedly with your hands sagging between your knees. Dirty rags and utensils accumulating a thick layer of dirt on your hands.
You squeezed your eyes shut for a second, sighing dramatically.
"...What?" You huffed, wishing nothing but to be left alone.
" 'M sorry." He muttered under his breath, making it impossible to be heard.
"You're what?" You let out a frustrated growl with his fancy words.
" 'Bout last night." He shrugged his shoulders indifferently, concealing every bit of an emotion peeking on the way.
"What about it?" You forced a downward smirk, trying to seem cool.
"C'mon." He simply said, looking rather bewildered with you. He looked as if he didn't know where to put his hands or what to do with his body.
"Your fine." You huffed, focusing on the weapons.
"I's bein' a dick 's all." He begged, taking a step towards you.
"Yeah you were." You scoffed tauntingly, not looking at his direction. You observed his boots and exhausted steps drawing towards you as you maintained your focus on the dirty rag in your hand.
"Ya kno' I'ma set things right." He was so near you that you had to raise your head to look at him. You were sitting on the frontstep of smaller cellar in the hall, he looked down at you. Your eyes filled with a flamey look as he stayed put.
"Per usual." You forced a sham smile, wishing he'd sense the sarcasm in your tone.
Seeing that he wasn't getting out of the way, you instantly got up as you rolled your eyes. You leered at him.
"Will you please get out of my way?" You hissed, maintaining a stern eye contact like a rock.
He remained silent without blinking.
"Dun' do dis." He mumbled.
You felt heat rising to your head, slowly gritting your teeth.
"So now it's my fault?" You barked between your heaving chest. You digged your nails into your palm, your face getting redder each second.
He remained silent once again as he placed his burly left hand to your waist, burying his forehead on your shoulder. As you were at the brink of pushing his body, hands softly grabbing him by the shoulders.
"A herd nearly took us out today." He breathed against your skin.
Your hand fell loose down his body as your eyes widened and you let out a soft sigh. His hair tickled under your chin as you felt him breathing shallowly against your skin. Your eyes fixated on the entrance gate as you didn't know what to say or do.
You felt your eyes twitching along with your bottom lip as his hot breaths send shivers down your spine, your body flooding with goosebumps.
"Almost got Rick." He added after a few second that felt like a decade.
"I'm sorry. I- I-" You made it out through a shaky voice as he lifted his head, his hand still gripping your waist.
"Ain't yer fault." He slowly ambled toward the table where he left his crossbow on.
"Jus' made me get mah head al' together." He spoke as if there was no one in the hall. He slunged his crossbow on his body and rubbed his face as he let out a frustrated sigh.
"There ain't no reason ta be a damn douchebag." He added, eyeballing you as he placed his hands on his hips.
You were left with thousands of feelings, thoughts lining in your head leaving you stay put like a statue with no form of life whatsoever. Your brows were raised, lip bottom still trembling yet you managed a hold on it. He threw his poncho on his shoulder as he got close to the hall gate.
"Come to my cell tonight." You insisted with soulful, intense eyes right before he left.
You saw him nodding his head discreetly as he chewed on his bottom lip.
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clementineslawyer · 5 months
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( Season 4 ) Daryl Dixon icons
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liliesdiary · 4 months
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Can I request some headcanons about being Daryl's Living Sex Doll? Does he let her cum too? Does he give her cuddles and good aftercare when she's done pleasing him?
Being Daryl's Living Sex Doll Headcannons
cw: living sex doll, praising, low-key pervert!daryl, no protection, treats you like his personal doll, king of aftercare, brat, sub training, throat fucking, bunny nickname.
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Daryl loves to keep you at home all day and fuck you when he's had a stressful day, which is always.
He's never violent, he's so soft with you. He treats you like a delicate doll that could break at the slightest touch.
He can be such a pervert though, he always touches you, especially your breasts and ass.
Daryl loves to spoil you with kisses and cuddles when you're being a good girl.
He loves to watch as his fluids spill from your throbbing hole after making you tremble.
Daryl loves how soft you are and loves to take care of your skin for you.
He loves to speak to you in such a gentle voice as he pounds into you.
Daryl loves to praise you and call you his good little doll or his pretty little doll.
He loves to fuck your throat, all he has to do is tap your chin and you already know to open your mouth and take his cock like a good little doll.
He trains you and disciplines you.
If you're being a brat, he would punish you and fuck you for his own pleasure and won't let you cum.
You're his living sex doll, you need to learn your place.
You're not allowed to touch yourself without his permission. If you disobey, you will be punished.
He loves to dress you up like a doll and you love it.
He always loves to cuddle with you and Dog.
He makes you clean the house when you're being a brat.
Shower sex with Daryl is very common.
He makes you ride his big thighs until you're a moaning and whimpering mess.
He loves it when you call him sir.
Loves to call you his little bunny that bounces on his dick like a bitch in heat.
His favorite thing to do is finger you until you're overstimulated.
His grunts and moans are so loud even when he tries to be quiet.
He loves to hold your hand when you're so close.
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lilbitrottmnt · 3 months
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Finally tried this, and put my own spin on it.
Sorry...
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My favorite characters! (rn)
Leo from Rise of the Teenage mutant ninja turtles!
Daryl Dixon from the Walking Dead!
How those two shows mix, I have no idea.
Totally not making an AU about it-
To be honest it was nice to draw people again :)
It killed the image quality ;-;
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molt3ngold · 1 month
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feral4daryl · 5 months
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masterlist || MDNI
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sweet scent.
perv!daryl x fem!reader
summary: while looking for his crossbow around the house, daryl ends up finding a pile of your dirty clothes and... used panties of yours. and when no one's looking, he decides to have some fun with them.
warnings: EXTREME AGE GAP (daryl is in his late 30s/early 40s and reader is 18), not entirely proofread, smut, mean!daryl sort of, corruption kink, daryl being an absolute pervert, panties sniffing, daddy kink, masturbation, cussing, daryl imagining himself doing the dirtiest things to you (unprotected p-in-v, squirting, face fucking, praising, loss of virginity, cunnilingus and i think that's pretty much it)
word count: 2.8k
a/n: please proceed with caution, this piece of work portrays a few extreme or unusual fetishes, so if you're not comfortable with any of those i've listed above please do not ready this. the idea that inspired this work originally belongs to @dilfsandmartinis.
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if there was something daryl absolutely hated, it was the feeling of uselessness.
since andrea had mistaken him for a walker and shot him from afar, grazing his head, useless was exactly how he felt, having to lay down on a bed the whole day and night, doing absolutely nothing but be left alone with his own thoughts. and oh, what a disgraceful fate.
everytime he wasn't focused on hunting, fighting or surviving in general, the farmer's sweet younger daughter flooded his mind. your hair, your face, your stupidly adorable sundresses, everything about you was so... distracting.
daryl wasn't ever the kind of guy to simp for a woman, but that one specific girl made him feel emotions and sensations that were hidden deep within his being for years, maybe even decades. feelings he thought had vanished from his heart a long time ago were now blooming all over again, like he was some stupid teenager looking at a playboy magazine for the first time.
there was something about your innocence, your adorable mannerisms, your sweet voice and your kindness that had awakened something in him, something he wasn't quite sure what it was.
no, he wasn't exactly a young man. and while being aware that you were very young, he couldn't help but feel so guilty for having those feelings. whenever you bended over to pick something up, he had to fight demons not to have a glimpse of your panties. he often wondered how could you be so careless by exposing yourself like that, even if you didn't do it on purpose.
and there was him again, thinking about you. it's like no matter how hard he tried to push those thoughts away, they were like water, always finding a way in.
he huffed, feeling defeated. he knew he was still recovering from the incident, and that he should rest, but why was he following orders around anyways? he wasn't a damn puppy. plus, everybody else had left him there to go looking for sophia. he wanted to be able to help too. he was alive after all, and if he was alive, he believed he should be on his feet.
so that's what he did. he slowly lifted his right foot, resting it on the floor, then he did the same with his left one. his body reluctantly lifted itself up, and he immediately could feel the consequences for laying down for so long, his back killing him and his vision a bit foggy. anyways, he ignored any discomfort and started walking slowly, his head still a little dizzy.
then, he remembered he needed his trustworthy crossbow, he couldn't just leave unprotected like that. he looked around the room he was settled in but it was nowhere to be seen. he knew it was still in the house, so he left the room. he started walking down the corridor, his eyes attentively looking for any signs of his crossbow. he was even starting to think that his mates might've hidden it to force him to stay in the house when he spotted a halfway open door.
his calloused hands pulled it open, revealing a small bedroom, all pink themed and stupidly decorated. no, his crossbow wasn't likely to be there, it just looked like it belonged to one of hershel's daughters, but it was like something was calling him in.
he stepped in the room and it almost looked messy. the dressing table on the corner had lipsticks, combs, all sorts of make-up and girly stuff all piled up and... a perfume.
it was happening again, images of you flooded his mind and it was like he could almost smell you. oh, your sweet scent had the power to make him hard like nothing else. just by looking at that small bottle, just by imagining your scent, he could feel little shock waves travelling all the way down to his cock, threatening to awaken it.
he knew it was wrong, so fucking wrong thinking about a much younger girl like that. and it was even worse considering that you were the daughter of the man that provided him shelter in such difficult times. it felt ungrateful.
when he saw you for the first time, he didn't think much of you. he was actually careful, treating you like the stranger you were. and even when time passed, he never really got close to you. now and then you tried to share a word, even if just a little bit, but it seemed useless since he would reject all your attempted approaches. he didn't hate you like he tried to after acknowledging his disgusting desires for you, but he just couldn't allow himself to interact with a girl that made him sick to his stomach for all the wrong reasons.
your sweetness was almost annoying. the entire world had gone to shit, for goodness sake! dead bodies walking around and eating all the people they could find. how could you act so clueless all the time? daryl even wondered if you had ever seen a walker before, if you knew what was really happening out there. after all, it was very obvious that you were a daddy's girl, always protected under your father's wing.
but strangely enough, acknowledging that only made him protective towards you. he was always somewhat watching, always around you making sure you were safe and he barely knew why, he just felt like he should.
so he didn't stop himself from reaching over to your small perfume bottle. the design was very simple, no labels to be seen, time had probably faded it away. the cap was baby pink and heart shaped, and when he removed it, he immediately brought the bottle to his nose, giving it a gentle sniff.
fuck.
now, he was 100% sure that was your room. the fragrance was the same one that filled his nose and made him drunk in you everytime you walked by. he wondered if that was the scent he would feel if he ever hugged you, burying his face into your chest.
in that moment, he couldn't think about anything else, not rick, not carol, not his chores, not surviving, not even sophia. you were everything that he had in his fucked up mind.
he wouldn't feel so fucking guilty if his thoughts were only about your innocence and sweetness, but they were also dirty as fuck. countless were the times when daryl imagined groping you, running his hands all over your delicate body, feeling every texture, squeezing every junk and listening close to your every little whimper. he would pull your hair, gently at first, just to get it off your face and neck so he could pamper them with little wet kisses, gently scratching his teeth along them. he imagined he'd have to keep you on your feet himself, since you'd struggle to because of how weak your knees would get at all the sensations he would provide you and...
wait, no.
what was he thinking? was he out his fucking mind? he needed to stop those absolutely disgusting thoughts right away. he couldn't keep having those thoughts about you, not when you're out taking care of such important business with the others. he put the perfume bottle back on the dressing table, determined to let all that go. he knew he couldn't just let himself get so distracted like that over something so mundane and unimportant as his own sexual desires but then...
...he spotted a basket filled with clothes when he turned around to leave. his mind immediately started to rush all over again, and for the 100th time that day, he turned careless. he slowly approached it. shorts, tops, pants and so on could be seen at the top of the pile.
in that moment, he had totally forgot why he had entered that bedroom or even left his bed in the first place. he couldn't even remember the existence of his crossbow or his duties.
and then... he gets an idea. he starts going through the pile of dirty clothes and in no time, he finds your panties. they were white with a pink ribbon on the front, a clear reminder of your innocence. for a moment, he just looks at it, contemplating the possibilities. then, he remembers seeing you in it when you bended over to pick some off the floor the day before. he remembers catching a glimpse of it under your yellow sundress when you went to change his bandage.
that meant that those panties had been freshly worn.
if just your perfume ignited such vile desires in him, he couldn't even imagine what your natural scent could do to him. and he was oh so curious to find out. he still felt guilty, but that man had been sex deprived for so fucking long, he didn't even masturbate very often. he knew damn well he was about to commit a big mistake, maybe even starting something he was sure he couldn't finish, but he finally made up his mind.
he flips the small piece of cloth over, eyeing the soft-looking lining of the panties. he gulps, feeling his mouth water right away. god, what was he doing? what was right, what was wrong wasn't even important to him anymore. he just wanted to embrace his sickness.
there was a small stain on the lining, probably from you wearing it. just that sight alone was enough to get him off, and once again, he found himself having to face that tingling sensation inside his pants. he knew damn well what that meant and what was about to happen. but honestly, he couldn't give a single fuck anymore.
in one quick motion, he brought the fabric to his face, giving a long sniff while he rolled his eyes to the back of his head. that fucking scent of yours got him drunk the moment it filled his nostrils. so intense, so feminine and raw, daryl couldn't remember the last time he felt that type of pleasure, or if he had even felt anything like it before.
it made him needy like a horny teenager. he felt himself going back to puberty when all he could think about was jacking off day and night. and it was all your fucking fault.
daryl palmed himself through his denim pants, never taking your panties off his face not even for one second. the natural scent of your cunt was more than successful to make him hard as a rock, the sensation of being in his pants started to get uncomfortable as his dick grew bigger and bigger.
just palming himself wasn't enough.
he slowly unbuttoned his pants and unzipped them, inserting one of his hand in his briefs to catch his hard cock in it, freeing it for the first time in a while. his angry-red tip was literally pulsating while a clear and sticky liquid dropped down his length.
he wasn't able to hold a small grunt as he wrapped his calloused hand around his cock, the rough sensation of his fingers causing him to feel a jolt of pleasure so fucking delicious and guilty at the same time. the archer brought his hand to his mouth, catching some of his saliva to use as lube.
oh, how he wished you were there. he'd make sure you'd get his cock nice and wet with your spit so you could rub it up and down. and then, without warnings, he'd just shove it down your throat, forcing you to prove how much of a good girl you could be just for him.
and just for him. he wanted you all for his own. daryl never really liked to share, specially when it came to a girl like you, so princess like, so adorable looking. your plump lips looked so fucking perfect, and they would look even more wrapped around his big cock.
knowing how fragile you were, he knew you would definitely choke and gag on him, struggling to fit all of him in your mouth. he would whisper sweet encouragement words to you like “tha's it, tha's ma good girl”. he imagined how he would hold your head in place and keep a hand on your throat so he could feel his cock while he aggressively pumped it in and out, making you drool all over him. “just like tha', yeah, show daddy how fuckin' good ya are fer him”.
in his imagination, you would look up at him with those big doe eyes of yours, with a mix of uncertainty and desire to make him proud. “am i doing this right, daddy?” he could almost hear your voice saying it whenever you would take him off his mouth to catch your breath for a moment, never disconnecting your small hand from his thick length.
he started pumping faster, squelching sounds were all that could be heard in that silent room, a proof of his degeneracy. the grunts and stifled moans were only getting harder and harder to hold back. he was sticking those panties to his face and sniffing on them like his life depended on it, like he was a desperate virgin.
a virgin. he wondered if you were one. you sure looked like it, your dad never let you out of sight for long enough for you to try something like that, he supposed from what he knew about your relationship. he imagined how would it feel like to be the one to pop your cherry for the first time.
oh, he would teach you so many things, everything he knows. he would guide you through it all along, teaching you where to touch, where to kiss, where to lick. he would make your virgin little cunny cum so many times it would get all puffy and red. he even wondered if he could make you squirt, stuffing you with his fingers, brushing against your sweet spot over and over again until you were a quivering mess, squirting all over his skull tattoo. and yes, he would make you lick his fingers clean, your sweet little tongue dragging across them, and then, he would kneel down in front of you, not wanting to waste a single drop of your sweet release, attacking your sensitive clit and slit with his lips and tongue.
fuck, fuck, fuck.
he was so fucking eager to taste your slick, to revel in your salty taste. he imagined how fucking good the smell he was getting from your panties was from the actual source. he would lick it all, your lips, your slit, even your ass, but he would give special attention to your little clit, flicking his tongue on it, making it cum again just for him. he would never grow tired of it.
and when he felt you were finally ready for him, he would bend you over just like you used to do so absentmindedly. he would be gentle at first, but knowing himself, he knew he wouldn't be able to hold himself back for too long before absolutely railing the shit out of you, making you cry out and scream his name in pleasure and pain.
and when he flipped you over on your back, he would be able to see the bulge on your lower belly caused by his big cock inside you. just by imagining that he felt himself getting close to the edge. he would press his hand on it, making the little room inside your pussy even tighter. fuck, he imagined the sweet sounds you would make just for him.
all those dirty thoughts and your sweet scent from your panties were more than enough to make shivers run down his spine and his whole body tremble. he kept his eyes shut tight as he licked a stripe on the lining of your panties, trying to get some of your delicious taste. meanwhile, he hadn't stopped his hands not even for a second, harshly rubbing his cock up and down until it was too much.
in a strangled moan, his cock started shooting spurt after spurt of thick cum onto the floor, the dressing table and pretty much anything that was around. he couldn't remember the last time he had such an intense orgasm, the sensation making his mind completely empty except for your image.
his movements got slower until they stopped and he let go of his now sensitive cock. he sighed after catching his breath. he was left with that afterglow and the feeling that he made a huge mistake. suddenly, he felt dirty like before. he opened his eyes slowly, removing your panties from his face and putting them in his pockets. yeah, he knew it was wrong, but he was still planning to keep them for later.
then, when he averted his gaze to the mirror on his side, he saw...
you. standing on the doorframe with a shocked look on your face.
“u-uncle daryl?”
[PART TWO]
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a/n: i know, i'm disgusting. i'm sorry. (just a quick reminder, english isn't my first language, so please excuse any grammar mistakes or awkward phrasing lmao, and tysm if you read it this far)
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kausstar · 3 months
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i just know they hit that one spot. every time. each thrust.
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celtic-crossbow · 4 months
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gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams
Y/N, breathless after a kiss: You wanna go upstairs?
Daryl, nodding: Mhm.
Y/N, taking his hand: You have protection?
Daryl, placing his free hand on his knife: Why? Wha’s up there?
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daryldixonsjizzrag · 3 months
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Y/N, doing Daryls makeup: *awkward silence*
Daryl, not knowing where to look: *looks you straight in the eye*
Y/N: Just close your eyes you're making this weird
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darylsfavoritegirl · 2 months
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SUMMARY: fem!reader gets sick after the events of terminus and daryl takes care of her!!
this was requested by @welcumetomyescape thank you for the idea once again!!!
A/N: this could've been a lot longer than this i just got really impatient because i finished early at school today so i was very much eager to write this. i hope you enjoy it and it satisfies the person who requested it!!!
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You coughed for the millionth time, seeking your hand to cover your mouth as you leered through your brows at the crowd infront of you.
Your raspy cough caught Michonne's attention as she turned her head lightly to your side, her hands loose on her sides due to thirst and hunger.
"You alright over there?" She worried.
"Ahem." You made it out through your chapped, sore lips and moist eyes as you simply nodded. You scrutinized your surroundings, goosebumps swarming through your entire body in contrast to the heat of the south. You were left behind from the others, leisurely dragging your feet along as you hoped you'd make through the day until you'd find a roof to sleep under.
Michonne turned her head down, observing her shoes as the group halted on the side of a road and you thanked the one who suggested it.
You didn't bother to check to see what they were up to as you collapsed to a pavement, your palm reaching the paving stones eased your fall. You placed your elbows on your knees, your left palm massaging your forehead wretchedly.
You spotted Daryl's boots drawing near you from your semi-shut eyes. You raised your head, feeling dazed due to holding your head high too much. You lowered your head as he knelt down infront of you, grabbing your kness softly to get strength for his position.
You observed his face, dark circles shaping under his eyes and were you so sure you had them, too.
"You look awful." You joked with a withered voice escaping your mouth.
A pityful smile tugged on his lips as he lingered his eyes through your soul. He had been perceiving you all day long, how you'd grown more tired with each passing hour, how you'd been burning up; yet resisting it with the very less brittle power left in your body.
He lowered his head
"Brough' ya water." and passed you a bottle of water that was on his pocket.
"Save it for Judith." You spoke low, putting your hand on the water bottle to push it away as you eyed the others from the corner of your eye.
"She dun' need water."
"She need' formula."
"Sum' damn baby food."
He uttered in a deflated tone. He broke the eye contact, behelding the woods as he kept resting his hands on your knees.
"Plus, yer burnin' up." He shifted his gaze to you with heavy-lidded eyes.
"I'll get through this, too." You assured him, putting a constrained smile upon your face.
"Like hell ya ar'." He disdained as he heaved out a long sigh. He got up, looking down at you.
"Don't make a fuss about it." You hissed under your breath, making sure no one else heard it. A brief silence passed like a decade as you glared at him with stern eyes. His posture didn't shift after all, not taking in to process anything you said. You felt all your boldness flowing away as he didn't seem to give your words a second thought.
"Screw you." You bellowed in a tone above whisper when your hands met on your lap, drawing your knees to your chest as you looked away.
"I'ma talk ta Rick." He grunted, maintaining the eye contact he just forced you.
"And then what?"
"There 's gotta be sum' cabin I know of 'round here." He uttered, scrutinizing the area with his smokey eyes.
"I'm not so sure... After all that cannibal sensation." you huffed as you started scribbling the ground with a damp twig. Your whole journey was about this, escaping the what so-called safe sanctuary terminus.
"We got real far off." He shrugged his shoulders, the water bottle swinging on his fingertips as he eyeballed the others. His eyes met with yours.
You simply heaved a sigh, whimpering under your breath to the unbearable aches on your joints and entire body. You lifted your head, not uttering a word. You were very well aware of your condition, sweat beading your neck mixed with dirt repulsed you with nausea.
"I ain't jus' gonna sit 'ere and watch yea torture yerself." He stated with furrowed brows. You, once again remained silent as you lowered your head at your doodles covering the soil.
A part of you would give worlds to stick to one place with roofs and a tender bed with pillows for a while, yet it wasn't the time nor the place to mull over for such self-centered ideas.
You ran your fingers through your hair as you hunched your shoulders. You refused to gaze at him, though you felt his penetrating gaze sticking through you.
"Tha' wound ain't gon' heal itself, neither." He mumbled, resting his body weight on his left leg.
"It's just grazed me." You shrugged your shoulders, embracing your legs even thightly with your left arm. You wished to be as small as possible, as invisible as possible.
He stood there with complete silence briefly, seeing that you weren't lifting your head even an inch to meet with his gaze nor saying anything else, he left you there. You heard him exhaling abruptly.
You observed him approaching Rick from the corner of your eyes as you shook your head in apace as if it'd heal your maddening migraine. You screwed your eyes shut, resting your forehead on your knees as you gradually let go off your clutch on the twig.
All you could hear was your shallow breaths along with the muffled conversations from your people that wind carried all the way to you.
You opened your eyes. It was almost like your wide-eyed gaze gave you your five senses back. You were suddenly sweating buckets, though sane part of your mind notioned it was like that all along. You leered at the center of your shorts zip and your hair obstructing a clear view when you heard shallow footsteps drawing near you.
You raised your head, saw Rick looking down at you with his hands on his waist.
"Damn, you look awful." He exclaimed in a raspy voice owing to thirst.
You failed to find strength in responding back so you stayed put, waiting for him to talk again. You sighed as you spoke
"It isn't safe."
You noticed Daryl rolling his eyes lightly as he shifted his position.
"You got Daryl." Rick remarked with self-confidence.
You slouched your posture, locking your eyes on the opposide direction.
"C'mon." Daryl grunted as he reached his arm to grip you by the biceps.
"I can't." You breathed out as you shook your head and gave him a stern glare.
A brief silence as no one said a word.
"Y'ain't gon' do nothin' but slow 'em down." He growled, getting looks from the group, some of them you'd just met a few days ago.
"Come on y/n. Daryl's right." Rick mumbled, inattentiveness bearing his features.
"I got it." Daryl huffed under his breath to Rick.
Daryl clucthed you by the biceps with his firm grip as he held his other hand close to your waist.
You couldn't comprehend how sitting down for 5 minutes had an unbelievable impact on your body as you almost toppled over him. Your legs were practically useless as Daryl caught you by the waist and lingered through you with his smokey eyes. You leered back at him through your lashes, failing to find the might to speak.
"We'll catch up with you all in a few days." You mumbled as you turned your body towards them, your right hand was over his shoulder, he held your hand securely.
"Well, don't you look like shit." A new bulky ginger guy called Abraham uttered, sniggering under his long ginger mustache.
"I've heard that many times today." You forced a smile as you narrowed your eyes at Michonne and Rick friskfully. He scoffed tauntingly with his girlfriend.
"Ain't yea a chatter now?" Daryl quipped low, not loosening his grip on your hands as Rick approached you. You rolled your eyes, craving nothing but to spend atleast a day in a safe cabin.
Your hair danced with the breeze as you tucked strands of it behind your ear. Rick started walking to your direction as he passed you a pistol, giving you an assurring look then shifted his attention to Daryl.
They exchanged silent agreements by nodding their heads consecutively. A sense of safeness washed all over you.
"Can ya walk?" He inquired with cautious eyes incase you'd lie.
"I'm fine." You whined as you started walking toward the woods, peeking a glance at the others for the last time.
You strolled through the woods, then a hilly, then a road. Your head felt like exploding at the heat, sweating buckets hence leaving your body sticky.
Your undertaking of not letting out moans due to your pain grew to fell short swiftly.
"Where is this cabin, Daryl?" You puffed sharply as you halted in the middle of the road.
"Ain't so far." He lifted his shoulders, scanning the area.
"Can we stop for a minute?" You asked, glancing through your brows as you put all your effort to maintain your heaving chest.
He clattered a sound to indicate it was ok. You tossed your backpack to the ground as you sat down on the warm surface.
Your placed your hands on your knees as you observed the area.
"Should'n be out in the open like dis." He spoke, lifting his brows to scrutinize his surroundings with a wrinkly forehead.
You kept quite as your head sagged on your shoulders out of lassitude. You squeezed your eyes.
"Hey hey, stay wit' me." He rushed next to you, taking out a water bottle out of his backpack.
"Need yea ta stay hydrated." He muttered as he cupped your neck softly. He passed the water bottle near your lips, almost forcing you to drink. You heaved a sigh and wiped your mouth with your thumb.
"Gon' cook ya up a nice squirrel or sumthin' once we get there." He joked.
You creased your brows and painted a smile on your lips.
"I'm good with anything as long as it's not a snake." You uttered tauntingly. A sense of darkness hovered his features as if he was insulted and it passed within seconds. You sat like that for quite a long time.
Your flu got worse by the time you got to the cabin. Plus, it was almost like you were at the brink of a seizure with your wound on your leg. Daryl had to carry you all the way down to the cabin, safe to say you were slowing him down.
Your bottom lip trembled as he put you on the bed, tucking the hair behind your ear that was soaked with your sweat. Your eyes were heavy-lidded, seeing only a blurry view infront of you.
His eyes darkened as he observed you with concerning eyes. He knelt down on the wooden floor, opened the backpack's zip in a rush and took out the rain water he stocked earlier that day. Thankful thoughts lined in your head to the rain, your friends most likely had benefited from it aswell.
He got up and placed the jar on the broken table. He scanned the cabin in a flustered manner as he patted his hands on his denim jeans.
Daryl made his way to the thin sheets laying on the floor and cut a piece of cloth and rushed back over to you. Your gaze followed his every move.
"Dis ain't gun' do much."
"Still, better than nothin' " He spoke to himself as he inserted the cloth into the jar, making sure it absorbed the liquid equally.
You looked over him, your eyes fighting to hide behind the lids. You swallowed dryly as he came near you. Water droplets were sliding down his forearm to his elbows and to the floor. Goosebumps flooded through your entire being as some of them hit your skin.
He pushed your baby hairs aside, placing the soaked cloth on top of your forehead. He gazed upon you, then your clothes and how incompetently you tried to cover yourself up.
"That ain't gon' fly." He huffed as he pushed the covers aside.
"I'm cold." You whined, eyes semi-shut. You weren't aware of your surroundings, condition and Daryl being with you. You tried to grab the covers to your chest.
"Yer burnin' up." He grunted as if to correct you.
A moment of bickering passed with him persuading you.
"Might wanna lose the shirt, too." He spoke.
You whined once again as he didn't let you utter a word. He grabbed the hem of your shirt as your fixed your posture, the cloth on your forehead fell on your lap. He grabbed it and tossed it on the table.
"Sit up." He stated.
You got strength by your knuckles from the mattres. The bed sinked under your weight as he pushed the table aside. You raised your arms up high as he took off your shirt and helped you lay on your back. Your teeth chattered as you rubbed your arms on your biceps. A wash of despair washed all over him as he felt useless, that he couldn't do more.
He observed you for a while, contemplating what more he could do. He then, made his way to the end of the bed and started taking out your boots. He held you softly by the leg and tossed them to the ground. A groan of relief escaped your chest.
You raised your head lightly, getting strength from your elbows and chuckled at the scene.
"What a caretaker you are?" You joked as your head fell back.
He mumbled a "Stop." as he came next to you, a subtle smirk tugging on the corner of his lips at your teasing words.
He put the cloth in the jar and let it sink to absorb more water. His attention shifted to you as he sat on the edge of the bed. One could sense that he was in a huge dilemma, that he wasn't completely sure which course of action to take.
You swallowed dryly once again. He reached for your hair, your eyes widened at him. He clattered an "Sssh." between his lips without looking at anywhere else besides your hair. You had to lift your head for a brief moment. With stiff and an upright neck, did he grab all of your hair in his fist and spread them on all over the pillow. Your hair was no longer sticking to your back and neck and you sighed in relief at the feeling.
You lied down as you crossed your hands together on your stomach. You peeked at him with weary eyes, so did he. His attention spaced out to the wall as you uttered after observing him all the way down.
"Help me sit up?" He turned to you, immediatly grabbing your torso with his big hands and helping you sit up without questioning. He couldn't help but ponder in his head how you'd heal more quickly if you didn't try to be the tough one once.
Your fingers digged his bare shoulders as you groaned out of pain. You raised your head to meet with his gaze. You could sense the hesitation on his features as he looked back and forth between your lips and eyes. Safe to say, his hesitation wasn't because of your sickness but because of your potential reaction. He, then let go as he leaned forward.
"Ew, no. Disgusting." You grimaced as you pushed yourself away from his touch and leaned back on the wall.
You avoided an eye contact as he came closer on the bed, forcing you to look at him. You finally gave in and stared upon him, face rosing with heat.
His hands clutched you by the side of your faces and slowly leaned in for a kiss once again. You didn't pull away this time, letting his balmy lips leaving you overstimulated and shaky. So many thoughts, worries ran through your mind. You didn't want him to get sick if he hadn't already catch it, yet you could never resist his touch, his lips. Your face loosened at the feeling of his body against yours. Your grip on his left wrist fell loose as you breathed out after a short kiss.
He gazed through you for a hot minute before he got up.
"Sleep." He grunted as he grabbed his crossbow that was hanging on a hanger.
"Get sum' rest."
"I'll be in the front." He uttered before leaving the cabin
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clementineslawyer · 3 months
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( Season 4 ) Daryl Dixon icons
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liliesdiary · 4 months
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The River Nymphe That Haunts Daryl Dixon (version two)
"you look lonely, I can fix that."
working on a fanfic about this, comment if you wanna be tagged <3
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arrowenchantress · 24 days
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Daryl: *Is carrying bags of stuff they just found*
Y/n: *Holds out hand to help*
Daryl: *Aggressively moves all the bags to one hand to hold Y/ns hand*
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