#twd imagine
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PERV carl grimes x fem!reader
warnings — both are 18+, part two to caught, carl is a few years older than reader, reader is daryl’s adopted daughter, perv!sub!carl, carl is a peeking tom, cock slapping, oral (m and f!receiving), reader is kinda a mean!dom
ever since that night you haven’t left carl’s mind. the way you controlled him without even touching him, it drove him crazy. you instructed his every movement, told him when to stop, told him when not to stop. safe to say he was fucked stupid even though you didn’t lay a finger on him.
and he swears you’re tempting him.
the skimpier clothes you wear, always talking about how hot it is so no one bats an eye. but he sees right through you, he sees that teasing look you give him. you want to get another reaction out of him. his pride is telling him not to satisfy you, but everything else in him is screaming to give in.
then there’s the closeness, all of a sudden you’re always near him. if you can get away with it, touching him too. not in the way carl wants, in the way it’s so sickeningly close it drives him nuts. he’s always had his eye on you, you weren’t that much younger than him, close enough in age. but it’s different now.
“hey carl.” fuck, he can just hear it in your voice. it’s teasing and it’s flirty, and no one seems to notice a thing. trust, if daryl could tell, carl would be pounded into flat stanley.
carl gulps when your arm comes over his shoulder, your face way too close to his for him to act normal. “hi,” he breathes out, hand nervously coming up to your waist. he was standing next to his dad, who was going over something with your dad, and everyone’s dad, glenn.
“now that’s a little close.” daryl grumbles, pulling you more towards him. they’ve come to notice the shift in your friendship, of course never chalking it up to you watching carl fuck himself. but did they need to know that anyway?
you look up to your dad with pleading eyes, “actually, i was here to ask if i could babysit judith today?” carl’s eye widens, babysit judith his ass. she’s at the age where she does hardly anything but sleep. of course, that’s in his favor, and he’s growing nervous at your offer.
daryl looks between you and carl with a scowl on his face, then to glenn and rick who shrug. rick’s always happy for the extra help, not yet knowing what it’s like to have to watch over a grown daughter. “fine.” you clap and grab carl’s hand, walking away with him with a small ‘thank you’, ignoring their confused looks.
“why are you taking me with you?”
you take your hand out of his and cross your arms, “do you not want me to?” he shakes his head frantically and grabs your hand again, letting you lead him. he soon realizes you’re on the path to your house, not his.
he tilts his head, “what about judith?”
“she’s with olivia. she’ll cover for me.” you’re not exactly sure about that, but you’re willing to risk it.
carl nods, walking with you and trying to keep up the same pace. despite being so lost in his head. he clears his throat, “so… uh, what are we gonna do?”
you giggle, “you’re cute carl.” you don’t miss how his ears turn red, the confusion spreading over his face. no doubt he’s never been called that before. “we could… read comics?”
he can hide the dejection on his face, that little cover up story, sneaking off together, all to read comics? “are you just trying to drive me crazy?” you turn to him with a smile and wink, walking him up your steps.
the longer he’s there the more pissed off he gets. you truly did just read comics. despite the glances you kept sending his way, like you were waiting for something, you never actually did anything. don’t get him wrong, he loves the spider-man volumes you have, but he thinks he’d love his head buried between your thighs more.
he can’t help but zone out thinking about it, adjusting his jeans when they get too tight. you watch him amusedly as his eye stays on one page for a good five minutes. “you done yet?” his gaze snaps up, looking to his side for you before looking up.
“when did you get up?”
“oh a long time ago.” you didn’t, you just stood up to go shower, but it was funny to mess with him. watch his pretty face turn red knowing you’re the only one who’s done it. “anyway, i’m gonna go take a shower.”
his face turns possibly even redder and he just nods curtly. he watches you walk around your room to grab everything you need, focus trained on your hips especially. when you turn around he scrambles to pick his comic back up, squinting his eye shut when you laugh. he waits until you go into the bathroom, he waits until the water runs to finally breathe.
he looks down and fucking hell is his boner obvious. he doesn’t know whether to be upset that you didn’t make fun of him this time or not. he sighs, unzipping his jeans and palming himself through his boxers. he has to be quick, before you can get out and catch him, again. or maybe he could let it play out… his head was a mini battle field.
no matter how hard he focused the running water brought him out of his head. he felt so gross, but it couldn’t be too bad if he stole a peek? just so things wouldn’t have to be all his imagination anymore.
he zips his pants and looks out the door, making sure daryl hasn’t come home yet. he crosses the hall to the bathroom, furrowing his brow at the ajar door. he pushes it a little and pokes his head in just enough to see. he swore he could cum then and there, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away no matter how hard he tried.
he lost track of time, practically drooling at the sight in front of him like some stupid teen boy. which he guess he had a mind of, after all that little night you two had together was the first time he did anything with anyone.
his eye widens when you step out, while body on display with water droplets cascading down. he was frozen, unaware of his hand going down his pants as you changed in front of him. he felt dirty, you had no idea did you?
oh you did, he should have known better, seriously. it’s you, he’s him, he’s a fucking perv. you knew it, you knew you had to tempt him. it’s what you had been waiting on. you needed him to finally give in and do just what you expected so you had the excuse to use and punish him just how you wanted.
he leans his head against the edge of the door frame, eye shut and mouth agape in a silent moan as he tries to get off before you notice. but you swing the door open, fist latching onto his collar to bring his face towards yours.
“what are you doing?” you ask with a knowing smirk. god, he’s so shameless. he looks embarrassed but he hasn’t faltered or slowed his movements at all. he kept eye contact and his heavy breath mixed with yours before he kissed you. it was needy and hungry and messy, full of inexperience and desperation.
you separate from his lips, attaching yours to his neck. you smirked at his moans, pushing him against the counter and motioning for him to sit on it. you place your hand over his and squeeze, a whine leaning his throat in response. you suck and nibble on the skin of his collarbone, hand traveling from his back to his hair, giving it a small tug.
he whimpers your name, “so loud, what if someone walks in, huh?” he squirms and you smirk at his reaction, picking your head up to look at him. swollen lips, dilated pupil, and that look that was begging for you.
"y/n!" carl gasps, your tug a bit harsher this time. the force led you to be in control of his head, and you lifted it so he would look into your eyes. he looked embarrassed, his pretty face painted with pink. "don't look at me like that.”
he attempts to get out of your grasp to no avail. he felt so small under your gaze, like a prey facing its predator. and he hates how turned on he was getting from it. he hates how despite everything he’s built up, the thought of finally getting taken care of is too fucking good to pass up.
he was lost in his head until he felt the cold air of his room hit his now bare cock. he whimpered at the feeling, glancing down to your eyes that were already set on his face. his cheeks once again returned to their pink hue that seemed to come around every time you did. he sucked in a sharp breath and let his head fall back when he felt your hand wrap around him, giving his cock a few strokes.
he felt bliss in that moment, eye screwed shut. but his moment was quickly ruined when a searing pain travel from his erection and up his body. he jerked forward, tears springing his eye as he looked down at the culprit. you just stared back at him with that innocent smile that kills him.
"why'd you do that?" he asked, lip trembling.
“you didn’t think i’d let you get away with being a dirty perv?” he blinks and you just start jerking him off once more at the lack of response.
he whines your name, shutting his eyes, snapping them open again when you slapped his cock for a second time. "stop!" he cries, his head falling back.
"you know, you look pitiful," you mutter, voice merely above a whisper as you slowly dragged your hand up and down his shaft. "nothing is tying you down or forcing you through this. you like it." carl rolls his eye at your accusation. he knew you were right, he just wasn't going to admit it.
you begin licking from the base of his cock to the tip. carl was a whining mess now, squirming on the countertop, trying his best to keep his eye on yours. you started to bob your head up and down, delicious noises escaping from the boy above you. you wanted to laugh at him, how desperately he wanted to close his eye, shy away from you.
you slide off him with a pop, "what's wrong, carl?" you ask innocently, the look on your face similar to your voice. he whimpered at the sight of you, your mouth so close to him while all you did was lazily jerk him off.
carl just pants, breath quickening when you went back to the task at hand. it took everything in him not to buck his hips up, because with your rules, he didn't know what would come to him if he did. your pace quickened when carl warned you of his approaching orgasm, whines, moans, and groans leaving his pretty pink lips. his stomach muscles would contract every now and then. finally he came, whimpers of your name falling from his lips as if it were the only word he knew.
you kept going until he pushed you away, "no, can't take anymore..." his voice was shaky, and he repeatedly took in breaths. he looked so pretty, shaking and panting. all because of you.
"well, what am i supposed to do then?" you fake pout, tilting your head teasingly. you stand up, taking off your shit and giggling at carl’s shameless gawking gaze. he adjusted in his seat, watching with amazement as you continued to strip in front of him. "shirt off," you instruct, the boy obeying immediately.
carl thought for a second before he opened his mouth, "sit here." his face was red as he moved, picking you up and placing you on the counter.
you quirk a brow at him, “what are you planning?” he opens his mouth to speak, but you’ve reduced him to something so small he can’t even force it out of him.
“i’ll show you.” his hands messily fiddle with your shorts, tugging them off of you. he attaches his lips to you immediately and you feel him groan into your pussy, the vibrations causing a moan to leave your lips. you couldn't help but move, slightly riding his face. he seemed to be enjoying it, his eyes closed.
you gripped at one of your breasts, then using one of carl’s hands to replace your own. you knew he was trying to jerk himself off secretly, failing miserably, but you decided not to interrupt him. after all his mouth was so good, albeit inexperienced it was him. and he was enjoying it as much as you were. if not more.
carl whimpers, mumbling the words ‘gonna cum’ into your cunt. "hold it," you command, combing your fingers through his hair, causing a moan to rip from his throat.
"can't!" carl’s eyes were screwed shut, nose scrunched up and lips forming an 'o' shape.
"you can, and you will. you're not incapable of such a simple task, carl," your voice was stern, the control you had over him driving him crazy. when you felt let yourself dangerously close, you gave carl permission. he was very loud, adorable moans of your name leaving his red and swollen lips, although muffled. his hands go to grip your thighs tightly when you cum on his tongue, afraid you were going to disappear if he hadn't kept you close.
he rests his head on your thigh, looking up at you with a small laugh. "thank you..." he trails off, his face was red, and his voice was very quiet. everything seemed awkward to him now. he stands up and you lean forward to give him another kiss, it was softer this time, a small moan from carl traveling to your mouth.
“you shouldn’t be thanking me for a punishment.”
carl shrugs, leaning his head on your shoulder. “got you to myself though now, didn’t i dixon?”
#carl grimes x reader#carl grimes fanfiction#carl grimes x y/n#carl grimes x you#carl grimes#carl grimes smut#twd x reader#twd fanfiction#twd oneshot#twd imagine#twd smut#carl grimes oneshot#carl grimes imagine#carl grimes x fem!reader
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thinking about daryl giving you a nickname…
18+, mdni
AN: this was a midnight brain worm while i was working on something else, so just walk with me ok!
daryl wasn't really one for nicknames.
he'd never had one coming up, always just "daryl" or "merle's brother" or something else sneered and distasteful. that was fine with him. to daryl, nicknames were rooted in sarcasm and mean jokes.
it hadn't started any differently with you.
that day in the quarry way back, the morning after the walkers had attacked their people. daryl was already aggravated, sweaty and thinking about merle (alone and hurt and alone), and he didn't much like these fucking people anyway, so when you stood with glenn, insisting on a burial over burning, dried tear tracks on your face (those people were your people too. you were mourning with the rest of them), he didn't hold back, sneering "well ain't you just a fuckin' peach," and watching your face harden in the wake of his words.
daryl didn't mean for it to stick, but he found himself defaulting to the silly name anyway. first when he was annoyed at you. you were soft, unfit for the grime of this new world, then when he was poking fun, and eventually... something else.
in the cdc, with a hangover keeping you slumped over the table, "shoulda stayed out the bottle if ya couldn't handle it, peach."
over the long winter on the road, with barely any food or water, "keep up, peach, i ain’t gon’ carry you.”
in the prison, sharing shifts up in the watchtower (because you were sort of friends now) (because daryl felt almost rewarded when your eyes lit up at your nickname), "don't need to teach you on the bow, peach. you're just fine with a knife."
trapped in the train car in terminus, fussing over his injuries even though you could barely map him out in the dark, "peach. peach. quit it, ‘m alright."
the road to alexandria was long and brutal. 'peach' turned into your name and your name turned into silence. daryl was grieving, you were grieving, and the space between you felt like a chasm, dark and wide. finding that community was a blessing in disguise, not just for the group, but for you and daryl specifically. you came back together behind the walls, both unwilling to acclimate, but knowing you needed to try.
‘peach’ made its way back into circulation slowly and then so frequently that even the alexandrians began to catch on.
when daryl had to leave with aaron for a run, “later, peach. i’ll find ya after your shift.”
laughing over your assigned job, “the hell you know about gardenin’, peach? they shoulda put ya in the tower.”
inevitably your relationship shifted into something more intimate. it wasn’t a secret, hell, the group had seen it coming long ago.
‘peach’ stopped being a nickname and became a term of endearment. something daryl reserved for tender moments.
startling awake when daryl joined you in bed, late after a long run, “just me, peach, go back to sleep.”
when you came back from a run that turned dicey, a little worse for wear, “lemme see it, peach, i got ya.”
and in… other moments as well.
your body pressed firmly against daryl's, his lips a breath from yours, whispering, “tell me what ya need, peach. you know i’ll give it to ya.”
daryl laid between your legs, two fingers curling cruelly against your g-spot while you rode out your orgasm above him, “there ya go, peach, so fuckin’ good.”
daryl had never been one for nicknames, this fact held up even after the world ended. your own family was rarely on the receiving end of a playful moniker. but to him, ‘peach’ was easy as breathing and, to you, it sounded like “i love you” every time.
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Daryl gets flustered seeing y/n thong when she bends over and needs her now. Established relationship, jealousy, mostly gentle but sub reader, extra points for ass man Daryl. <3
Can you grab this for me?
A/N: love this idea❤️ thanks for requesting, love writing for you all!
WARNINGS: unprotected sex, fingering, teasing, yeah yeah yeah 18+
“Daryl!” You yell out, your voice echoing through the empty abandoned house.
You waited, arms reaching, standing on your tippy toes trying to reach a can of food in the cabinet of the house you and Daryl were searching. The counter was filled with trash and covered in dust leaving no room for you to be able to jump onto the counter in your usual manner in times like this.
“Daryl!” You call out once more, irritation lacing your tone this time.
You hear a thump from the upstairs before he comes flying down the steps to your rescue, fear suddenly coursing through him. He stops abruptly, watching you try to jump up to reach something in the cabniet, just hoping your finger tips would be able to touch it.
He couldn’t help but notice everytime you jumped your shirt rose up slightly, revealing the straps of a red thong, siting just above the hem of your jeans on your hips, his face instantly curling up into a smirk, your head snaps back to his, you were frustrated, narrowing your eyes at him.
“Are you just going to stand there and stare at me or are you going to help me grab this?” You snap, wondering why a shit eating grin was covering his face.
Daryl snorts at your attitude. Suddenly feeling the blood from his cheeks rush to his lap at the thought of you bent over that counter in that very sexy red thong.
“Oh, I’ll help ya grab somethin’.” He smirks, slapping your ass and giving it a slight squeeze emitting a small yelp out of you.
“Daryl!” You swat at him.
He effortlessly reaches up grabbing the can, handing it to you. Your cheeks red at his actions. You mumble a small thank you suddenly feeling shy as you lean down, pulling your bag from beside the counter and putting the food in it.
Once again, in Daryls favor you flash him with your thong once more.
“How many times ya gonna flash me with these?” He asks, his fingers catching the string of them and letting it snap back against your skin. “You been wearin’ these all day?”
You try to stand up but his hands instantly push your back down, leaving you bent over in front of him. Your breathing hitches when a pair of warm hands catches your hips, touching the exposed skin from your shirt raising up.
“Y-yes.” You stutter suddenly feeling stupid, you didn’t even realize that you have most likely been flashing people all day,
The jealously was surging over Daryl. He kept thinking about everytime you bent over who was looking at you and who saw what was only his to see? The thought made him want to go home and beat every man at Alexandria bloody.
“M’ the only one who gets ta see this.” He rubs his hands down to your ass, smacking it again. “Ain’t that right?”
“Yes, Daryl.” You breathe. “All yours.”
Daryl knew exactly how to get you to fall apart in his hands, sometimes with a single touch. It was one of things you hated most about your relationship with him, how at anytime, anywhere, you were ready for him.
His fingertips softly ghosting your skin, he runs them over your sides to your stomach, unbuttoning your jeans.
“Daryl,” you stop him, grabbing his wrist. “What if someone sees? Rick and Michonne-“
“Don’t care.” He says unphased. “Need ya, so bad.”
You slowly let go of him with shaky hands, you shiver against his touch, revealing in it. Your eyes close as his hand dips into your jeans, his finger tips running up and down the already wet thinned cloth of your thong.
“Shit, Y/N.” He grunts. “Yer already so wet and I ain’t even done nothing to ya.”
You blush. “Always ready for you, Dar.”
You could feel his erection against your ass making you more needy. You try to wiggle onto to him but his hand stops you smacking you harshly, you whimper.
“Needy little slut ain’t ya?” He chuckles.
“I need you, please.” You pant.
Oh, he needed you more. He thought. Your clit was now throbbing, you were basically dripping, you knew by now your panties were drenched. You were aching for him in every way.
His finger dips inside your thongs, you gasp as his finger tip runs up and down your wet slit, easily moving. He’s teases your enterance making you groan in frustration.
“Don’t be a tease.” You breathe, voice hoarse and needy.
“Oh like how you been today?”
Your head falls in pleasure as he gives in, easing one thick finger inside you, stretching you out. He continuously hits your sweet spot deep inside you. Your hips buck back to him, causing him to add another finger, you moan. Your thighs start to shake as your body starts reaching your climax, not being able to hold yourself up much longer.
“Daryl, I-I’m-“ you moan, your walls convulsing around him. “Gonna cum.”
Daryl smirks, suddenly his hand come out of your pants, fingers covered in your arousal. You clench around nothing, still throbbing. Aggravation floods your body. Your body turns to face him quickly, pushing his shoulders back, he doesn’t even budge.
“What the fuck was that for?” You snap.
“Not coming unless it’s on my cock, pretty thing.” He says, pulling you back into him. “Only I can take care of ya pretty little pussy, remember that.”
Your anger fades away as his lips attack your neck, softy and gently. You quickly break the kiss to yank your pants off, he unbottons his quickly. His hands go underneath your thighs signaling you to jump which you do, he catches you with ease, backing you up against the closest wall.
Your throw your arms around his neck as he kisses your neck again, he grabs his erection putting it against your soaking wet entrance, his tip rubbing up and down your slit, you whimper, your grasp tightening on him.
“Ready?” He whispers and you nod.
He flexes his hips, his erection sliding into you, filling you up. He grunts as he bottoms out, you gasp, enjoying the feeling of him stretching you out as pleasure shoots across your body.
“Fuck,” he grunts, his rythym speeding up. “Miss ya tight little pussy so much.”
“Ah,” you moan, burying your face into his warm neck.
His hips continue to rock into you, pushing you harder up against the wall. The wet sounds filling the air. He felt amazing in you causing you to throw your head back against the wall.
“Dar,” you whimper. “You feel so g-good.”
“Yeah baby?” He says through clenched teeth.
Your legs wrap around him tighter, you could’ve sworn you felt him in your belly. His breathing labored, you clench around him, pulsing. Your hands twist in his hair causing him to groan in pleasure. You snap, your climax coating him as he releases inside you.
“Fuck,” he mumbles, breathing heavily into your neck. “Fucking hell.”
“That was,” you start, your breathing matching his. “That was amazing.”
He pulls out, leaving you empty, missing the feel of him. He sets you down and your legs wobble a bit and he catches you quickly, steadying you. You giggle as you hold onto his wrists.
“Can ya walk?” He grins, full of pride.
“What can I say, Dixon? It’s all your fault.” You smile.
You slip your pants back on, along with your thong, feeling the sweet stickiness from his climax dripping out of you, you groan, the sticky feeling between your thighs being too much.
“What’s wrong?”
“You’re dripping out of me, literally.”
He laughs pulling you into him, sweetly kissing your lips and tapping your butt before releasing you.
“What can I say? It’s all your fault.”
#daryl dixon#norman reedus#daryl dixon imagine#twd#twd imagine#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon twd#rick grimes#daryl dixon x female reader#smut#daryl dixon x reader#norman reedus smut#smutty#daryldixon#twd daryl#twd daryl dixon#twd smut
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Best Served Cold
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader
Summary: Since your fiancé can’t seem to keep his hands off of Lori, you decide Daryl is the perfect way to make him pay. Revenge sex has never felt so good.
Warning: NSFW. Attempted SA. Unprotected p-in-v. I don’t condone cheating (unless it’s on abusers lol). Semi-public sex and getting caught doing it in a tent 🫣 Based on this kickass idea from @dilfsandmartinis (I'm so sorry it took this long for me to post the story) !! 💓
Your man returned to your tent that night like he did most others: slick with sweat and too tired for sex. At least not again, not with you. He would undoubtedly claim to have been checking the perimeter, standing guard like a good leader should, but any blind man in that quarry camp could’ve seen he was just boning Lori.
A lot.
You were really more offended that he thought you stupid enough to abide by his lies than the fact he was fucking someone else. That part wasn’t new—his dick never knew how to stay in one hole longer than a month or two—but in an apocalypse? With his newly-deceased best friend’s widow? That was low, even for Shane.
Which was why you felt no compunction yourself as you slipped quietly from your tent toward the water’s edge that night, pink vibrator clutched tightly in hand.
Useful little thing that it was, a six-setting suction device that worked wonders on your clit, even underwater. You figured since Shane couldn’t be bothered with you or your sexual pleasure so long as the former Mrs. Grimes was occupying his time, you’d make use of this sex toy instead and start really leaning into the “self care” you’d been craving for so long.
The water was warm all the way up to your chest, and the air around you tepid. You moved around, treaded in place, and finally reached comfortable bearings a couple yards from shore. You relished the solitude and silence.
The moment you felt the toy come to life in your hand, you couldn’t help but smile. Exhaling as you brought the tip close to your center.
“Shit.” Even the gentlest setting too harsh on your clit, you nipped your lower lip and bit back a whimper.
You swirled it lightly on your inner thigh, tried painstakingly as ever to acclimate yourself to the buzz of the rubber, but damn were you sensitive. Almost too tender to be touched, too ripe with excitement and aching for the feel of something on you, or in you, or just barely skimming the surface of your skin underwater.
A low moan escaped your lips the second the head drifted back to your clit. Your toes curled into rough, rocky terrain underfoot, and your breaths started to quicken. You made a gentle motion with your hips—a sweet, semi-circular thing you’d been doing over Shane’s lower half as long as you could remember—begging for more friction, needing more of that mechanical hum.
You pressed the button for a higher setting. The peaks of your pleasure soared to new heights.
You were helpless to the trembling of your knees and felt immensely grateful for the water’s aid in keeping you straight. You pressed the rounded tip of the toy even tighter to your core and didn’t heed a thing around you as you sighed several expletives under your breath. A jolt of bliss washed over your body.
Your eyes had just started to close in the first throes of that wild sensation, when a new sound startled you.
“Ya done pissin’ or what?”
You shot a look toward the shore and saw a slightly less-than cheery individual standing at the edge of it, the toes of his boots grazing the incoming waves.
You froze in place. You hardly knew what to say.
“Ain’t safe fer you out here ‘n you know it. Come on.” Daryl beckoned you with one hand and started to turn.
At what point was it appropriate to tell him you were naked?
You thought he could surmise from the fact you were neck-deep in the water and refusing to move that maybe something more was keeping you in. Daryl seemed clueless, however.
“I ain’t got all night, kid,” he snorted, “’f you don’t hurry, Shane an’ the rest of ‘em’ll be out and— ah.”
Ah.
At the last, he stepped on a pile of clothes folded neatly on the shoreline nearby, undergarments and all.
So this wasn’t a midnight swim or a late night piss at all, but a full-blown skinny dip. He should have known you weren’t the bikini type.
Awkwardly, almost begrudgingly, Daryl gathered what clothes of yours he could and chucked them closer to the lake. Then he turned on his heels and stalked up the beach without another word—fuming, it seemed to you. Once averted, though, Daryl’s face betrayed a look of horror. Like a parent who’d just stumbled upon a box of condoms in their daughter’s sock drawer after swearing she was still a virgin.
In the few short weeks since you’d been thrown together in this mess, Daryl had practically taken to you like family. He hated Shane ‘Shit-for-Brains’ Walsh most days, it was true, but the fact that you were you, and times were tough, and nothing seemed to occupy Daryl’s mind quite like the thought of keeping you safe, that he had to keep you close at all times. He just hadn’t imagined your proximity would turn this intimate so suddenly.
“Keep up,” he spoke more sharply than usual. Didn’t even wait for you to dry and dress completely before snagging your hand in his.
You glanced at your taut, hardened nipples poking up through the damp material of your tank top and suddenly wished you’d brought a towel. Or a bra. Your shorts, too, clung to your ass like a second skin and made you feel extra bare before Daryl’s eyes—even if he hadn’t spared a look at you once as you’d traipsed behind him through the woods.
When you tripped, he held you up; when you nearly ate shit over several rocky spots, he carried you over them. His eyes never strayed toward your body, though.
Once you’d made it to the clearing where your group had made camp, Daryl lowered you to the ground and still couldn’t find it within himself to look your way. You shuffled uncomfortably on your feet, now standing inches away from the tent you shared with Shane.
“Thanks for...that,” you said, flatly.
Daryl managed a curt nod.
Before you turned in, you decided to venture a look at Daryl’s chest, and you felt an influx of embarrassment. The taupe-colored cutoff he wore as a shirt was soaked with water. Instinctively, you brushed your fingers over the stain—as if touching it might dry the fabric, or else mask your humiliation at being the cause. You tried not to evince a hint of surprise at how sturdy he felt.
“Shit, I’m sorry, Daryl.”
You hadn’t thought any man was capable of looking more afflicted than Daryl did before, but somehow, incredibly, he appeared even more ill at ease when you touched him. You immediately retracted your hand.
“’S’okay,” he managed. He would’ve given anything not to be where he was, or who he was, at that moment.
Just when another apology leapt to your tongue—feeling even worse that you might’ve crossed a physical boundary you shouldn’t have—a twig snapped close-by.
You and Daryl jumped in your skin. You turned toward the source of the sound.
Shane was tugging his pants into place, pulling the zip up in haphazard fashion as he marched out of the woods.
He’d either been blowing Lori’s back out (again) or off to take a piss in the bushes. By the looks of his dazed and drowsy expression, you guessed it was the latter.
“Got a nice rack, doesn’t she?” Shane observed, careless as ever.
He walked past the two of you and unzipped the tent.
“I was jus—” Daryl started.
“Don’t care,” Shane cut in, “Goodnight.”
You were amazed at the level of nonchalance your fiancé exhibited. On finding you soaked to the bone and touching another man in the middle of the night, the old Shane probably would’ve laid Daryl flat on his ass.
But overprotective, possessive Shane was no more.
Before disappearing into the tent, Shane reached for your elbow. You barely got another glimpse at Daryl as you were ushered inside.
The tent was re-zipped in an instant, and you assumed Daryl would be quick to leave the scene, too.
You turned and saw Shane fumbling to unscrew the lid of his canteen. Taking several big gulps before re-fastening the top, tossing the jug to the side, and letting out a sigh.
“You get a look at the hard-on he had?” Shane chuckled.
You almost choked on your spit.
“What?”
“Pitched a tent in his pants bigger’n this,” he returned, gesturing to the polyester enclosure overhead. Then he got back to his feet, walked over to you, and kept going, in spite of your perplexed expression, “He must really wanna fuck you.”
You blinked up at him, unsure if you were more baffled by Shane’s serene demeanor or the fact that you hadn’t noticed Daryl’s boner. You decided to overlook the erection for the time being.
“And you don’t...care if he did?” Instantly chiding yourself for the twinge of indignation in your tone.
“Nuh-uh,” Shane said. His hands came to rest comfortably on your hips, and he seemed to be hearing your words without really comprehending what you meant. As usual.
If he picked up on the irritation in your voice, he didn’t show it. He just rolled the denim of your shorts between his fingers and pulled you closer.
“This,” he hummed, fingers sinking between your legs, “is not for him.”
And Shane was community dick. Made sense.
You didn’t attempt to conceal your annoyance this time as you rolled your eyes and pushed his hands away.
“Well maybe if Daryl asked nicely…” you trailed off, starting toward the bed.
Shane stopped you before you could. He took a firmer hold of your sides and showed the first real hint of jealousy in his eyes. You were almost glad to see it.
“No,” Shane said, shaking his head. Then, snaking his touch back down your legs—with the fabric of your shorts fisted in his hands this time—he continued amidst your quiet protests.
You were gripping his wrists, trying to keep them from moving any further. But Shane was insistent.
“He wouldn’t get to ask nicely, because I’d blow his fucking brains out before he ever got the—”
“Shane.” You were actively shoving his hands off now. You didn’t mind this envious side coming back to the surface, but you would not, under any circumstance, be Shane’s sloppy seconds the same hour he’d fucked Lori.
“No. You— you smell like—” you cut yourself off before the woman’s name could leave your lips.
“Like what?” Shane snapped. Suddenly intrigued to hear what you had to say.
You tried to wriggle out of his grip, but when you couldn’t, and when he pressed you again, you sputtered some nonsense about his drinking—how he reeked of booze, not Rick’s wife.
“Thought you liked it when I fucked you drunk,” Shane grinned, voice dripping with condescension, “Said it gave me stamina.”
You’d said no such thing. You groaned lightly as Shane managed to pull your panties and shorts, together, to your ankles. When he started to take them off at your feet, he hardly seemed to notice your nails dig in his shoulders, silently begging him to stop.
“Think I should invite Daryl back over? Let him watch me fuck you stupid?” Shane’s mouth was hovering close to your center, hot breaths fanning over your lower half.
In any other situation, you would’ve craved him here: on his knees, ready to suck and lick and dick you down like he always used to do. But things were different now, you had to remind yourself. Apart from the walking dead invading your world, there was no Rick in the picture, no semblance of platonic feelings between his widow and your fiancé—you felt physically sick at the thought of Shane touching you now. You tried to stand the instant he threw you on the bed.
“Shane, I don’t wanna—”
“Fuck? Yeah, I figured,” Shane shrugged as he tried to peel your shirt off your body.
“Then quit,” you hissed. You were starting to fear the fabric might tear if you held on any tighter.
When it seemed evident you weren’t going to give in on the top, Shane let go and turned to his pants instead. Pinning you down with one hand, he unbuckled his belt as you whimpered and pleaded that he stop. The sounds only made the mound in his pants more pronounced.
The two of you had dabbled in CNC before, but this was not that. No safeword, no fallback, no trace of consent between you, and to be frank, you were starting to get scared. The second Shane freed his cock from his boxers, you felt a surge of panic rise to your chest.
“Fuck— STOP!” Without thinking, you jerked your knee.
You hadn’t meant to hit his balls so hard. But you did. And he folded in half, seizing with pain, while you took that as your chance to slide off the bed, slip on your panties—and hightail it the fuck out of there.
Shane’s cries pierced the night air like a blade through rotted flesh. You stumbled, half-blind in the dark, and blazed a reckless path through the tents all around you. Weaving in and out of neighboring spaces, searching desperately for any lone, dim glow of a lantern to tell you someone was awake to hear your pleas if needed. But sadly, no tent was alight but yours, and the entrance to that was presently being torn open once more as Shane staggered out there himself.
“Y/N!” he bellowed.
In your haste, you’d tripped over Glenn’s knapsack. You scraped your knee, scrambled back to your feet, and tried with everything in you not to make a sound as you retreated further from Shane’s voice.
You probably looked feral, weaving in and out of tents with your knee leaking blood and your pupils grown wide with fear. You scampered fast across the rocky campgrounds and made a beeline for the woods.
Until Shane’s footsteps fell heavy mere feet away.
Quickly changing course, you dove for the nearest tent and ripped it open. When you slipped inside, zipped it up, and went crab-walking backward like a panic-stricken animal, you hardly saw much of anything else.
Had your pulse not been pounding in your ears and your gaze not glued to the front of the tent, you likely would’ve gotten a pretty good laugh at the sight behind you.
At the very least, a chuckle or a smile or a slightly sheepish blush would’ve been supplied in a second, seeing someone wide-eyed and holding his cock in a death grip just inches from your rear.
You’d unwittingly scrambled into the tent of a man who’d just been beating his dick off furiously to the thought of you—and there you were, sitting pretty in pure, unadulterated fear for the sight of your fiancé any second now. When you turned your head, your hand flew to your mouth.
“Dar— oh!”
Like before, your heads snapped in the direction of a new sound, quick to sense that it was Shane, and this time, you went crawling over to the archer without a second thought. Hardly noticing his pants were down, you leapt into his lap.
“Y/N—” Shane hissed as he tripped over something outside. You heard a clatter and a bang, the sound of a few curse words sputtered in vain, and a groan. Daryl’s arms snaked around your sides and pulled you closer.
“What’ve ya gone and done this time?” he whispered.
“Told him no,” you murmured back.
You pretended not to feel the singe of Daryl’s gaze boring straight through the side of your head. Then a little lower, to your near-bare lower half and shaking legs. It didn’t take long for him to piece together what had happened.
“Y/N,” Daryl started, far louder than you could bear. You shushed him swiftly, ignoring the flare of anger in his eyes that told you he was currently conjuring up fifty different ways to kill Shane and just aching to act on it.
“Don’t. Please,” you said.
“Did he—”
“No. I...kneed him in the balls before he got the chance.”
“Oh.”
Shane was pacing outside, like he knew you were somewhere close. He called your name every now and then, drew near enough to send you rigid with fear. Then Daryl would hold you tight, stroke your hair, or else just graze his lips on your shoulder to let you know he was there, and eventually, the fright would subside. You nestled yourself into that touch and felt something far kinder than fear for the first time in a long time.
You felt aroused.
Ever more inspired by the sound of Shane stewing, fuming outside within earshot and the nudge of Daryl’s member against your barely-clothed core. Well…you were tempted, to say the least. You just weren’t sure if Daryl would be on board for being your lightning-quick rebound fuck of the night.
You sighed as his hips moved gently against your own.
“You think maybe—” you started.
“Yeah?”
“—you might…tell me what you were doing before I barged in here?”
Even in the dark, you could sense a blush creeping up his neck. You loved to see a man like Daryl flustered.
“Oh, uh, that?” he said in half a chuckle. Glancing down at his groin and going back and forth between two thoughts in his mind, most likely. Tell you the truth or come up with a half-assed lie on the spot.
“Just…jerking off to you.”
He never had been any good at a bluff.
Your face visibly brightened in the dim glow of the tent. You tried not to let your elation get too far ahead of you, though, lest your voice raise above a whisper and draw Shane’s attention.
“Yeah? What about?”
Daryl never thought it possible for a woman’s enthusiasm in a question to turn him on, but yours did. He looked to your lips and swallowed, suddenly at a loss for how to answer.
“I…well…”
“You’re fucking dead to me, Y/N. If you don’t—”
Your fiancé’s voice was as close, and as terrifying, as it had ever been. You eased Daryl onto his back.
“Were you thinking of this?” you teased.
You made that soft semi-circular motion with your hips and watched a brand new face contort with pleasure. The footsteps outside hardly registered in your mind any longer, as your attention was singly focused on Daryl.
He fought a groan in his throat as you grazed your slick heat over his length.
You coated him with your arousal quicker than even you had expected. You knew you were turned on, but never had it been like that, where you were damn near dripping sweet nectar all over a man’s cock. You let a little whine leave your lips.
You couldn’t help it; your cunt rocked back and forth over Daryl’s fat, throbbing cock and made obscene sounds as you did. The archer’s hands found your hips and gently guided you up and down as his own moans struggled to break loose.
You could’ve stayed like that forever, you figured—if you hadn’t been so fucking wet that the head of his cock slipped inside of your heat the second you and Daryl bucked your hips together. An inch was quick to stretch to seven before you could think or blink or do anything else but groan in pleasure, and suddenly, he was bottoming out inside you.
“Fuck!” Daryl hissed.
“Daryl!”
“Daryl?”
Fucking Shane, of all voices you didn’t want to hear in that moment. Fortunately, he’d heard Daryl’s voice alone and not the sound of your moan, calling his name at the same time, for entirely different reasons, it seemed.
Daryl gritted his teeth as you bounced on his cock,
“Yeah?”
“I’m looking for Y/N. You seen her, brother?”
Seen you, felt you, fucked you, yeah—he had.
Daryl closed his eyes and tried not to blow his load on the spot as you squeezed around him.
“No— no, I haven’t. Not since earlier,” he grunted.
“You sure?” Shane pressed, dissatisfied, “I heard her running around this way.”
You braced your knees against the ground and rode the man beneath you even harder, taking every ounce of resentment you felt toward Shane out on Daryl’s cock. Fuck if revenge sex didn’t feel nice when the object of your ire was standing right outside the tent.
You almost wanted to moan, wanted to whimper, but were quick to think better of it the longer you spent moving up and down his length. Seeing shades of lust in his eyes like never before, you just couldn’t bear the thought of having to pry yourself off any time soon.
Daryl sank his fingers into your thighs and sighed, leaving ten perfect crescents in their wake.
“Don’t you fuckin’ stop,” he murmured.
“Could ya— could you come outside and help me look?”
‘Come the fuck on’ seemed to be the silent, shared sentiment between you and Daryl as your bodies writhed fast against each other and your highs came close into view. You braced your hands against his chest and begged him not to answer with your eyes, but you also knew Daryl couldn’t not say something to him, either.
“I…I’m sure she’s fine.” Daryl tried, weakly.
He flipped you over so you were flat on your back, hands careful not to make much noise or cause you discomfort as he did. Cock never leaving your wet, greedy hole, he found it easier than ever to resume the pace you’d made above him—now pounding you quietly into his sleeping pad.
You gripped his back and, simultaneously, bit down on his shoulder to keep from letting out a shriek when he grazed a particularly sensitive spot inside you. Tried not to whine when he hit it again. And again. And again.
Shane was growing impatient. Hovered close to the front of the tent so you could see the outline of his shadow.
“You got something better to do, Dixon?” he snapped.
Yeah, fuck your fiancée, Daryl thought with a smirk. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him even deeper.
That light, airy feeling preceding ecstasy was close at hand. You wanted to give in—let the levee break and just relish the sweet sensation quick to follow—but you knew you couldn’t. Knew yourself too well to be a screamer not to hold on a little longer, until Shane had left.
But the way Daryl’s cock was pumping in and out of you at present made it hard, to say the least.
“Just…tired, ‘s’all,” Daryl groaned close to your ear.
“Tired from what?!” Shane jeered, “Wrist been hurtin’ from how hard you’ve been jerkin’ it to Y/N, huh?”
You almost burst out laughing. Daryl quickly cupped your mouth. Fucked you harder to shut you up.
And shut up you did; but not for long, you feared. The faster he pounded you, the more that coil in your stomach came to swell, and soon enough you might—
“Eat shit, Walsh.”
“Just help me out. Please.”
Daryl shook his head and fucked you harder, much to your chagrin. You didn’t want him to stop, but you needed him to, in truth, or that swollen thing inside of you just might get the better of you and burst. You pressed your hands to his chest and tried to whimper something softly, but Daryl just hushed you with his hand to your mouth and kept on at that breakneck pace. Your eyes rolled back, your legs started to shake, and if Daryl hadn’t had to tear his attention away to say something to Shane, he might have seen how close you were to blowing your cover…before it was too late.
With one more stroke inside your wet, sensitive hole, you felt a cord inside you snap and a flurry of wild, unbridled bliss take over, stronger than you’d felt in ages.
A shriek desperate to escape your throat, your teeth raked down Daryl’s flesh with the force of it, and, instinctively, the man yanked his hand away and yelped.
You hated to do it, but the feeling was just too good. Your lips parted to release one of the most lewd and obscene sex screams of your life—with Daryl’s name following over and over as you came.
Daryl’s eyes grew to half the size of his face, it seemed. Stilling inside you, feeling your sweet, hot juices flow down him in waves, he sat there and couldn’t quite decide if he was more turned on or terrified.
When Shane tore through the fabric of the tent and charged inside, he figured it out pretty quickly, though.
#daryl dixon#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon one shot#daryl dixon imagine#daryl x reader#the walking dead#twd daryl#twd fanfiction#twd imagine#smut#shane walsh#shane walsh smut
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Bodyguarded (Reader!Grimes x Daryl Dixon)
Requested by: Anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury, @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn
Summary: Reader is Rick's younger sister. You're very sweet with a sharp tongue which Shane doesn't seem to like. Shane keeps bothering you as he finds you cocky. To your surprise is Daryl always around to keep Shane away from you eventhough he doesn't like you, right? [ read part 2 & part 3 & part 4 & part 5 ]
A basket got dropped beside you. It made you look up from your crouched position. – “Seriously?” – you called out at Shane. – “You couldn’t have dropped this ten minutes ago? We are almost finished.” – you went on. Shane exhaled loud wiping his hand down his mouth. – “Why do you always have to open your big mouth.” – he replied with a soft glare. You slapped the shirt in your hand down in the water as some water splashed up. Getting all worked up by how he threated you.
Shane watched as you got up but before you could do anything had Carol jumped up with you. Moving her hands in front of you to hold you back. One look of her was enough to make you settle down. – “Just do as you are told!” – he ordered finding himself amusing. You clenched your jaw, pushing with your body against Carol’s arms as they kept you in place. Shane scoffed funnily before walking off. Sighing loud lowered Carol her arms from around her.
“Come on Y/n.” – she said softly with a gentle nod. You took another deep breath squatting down again. – “I just don’t understand why he brought this now. He knew he had laundry ten minutes ago, didn’t he.” – you spoke trying to understand why he would taunt you like this. Carol took out a shirt, splashing it into the water. – “Let’s finish this up together.”
Carol and you washed the rest of Shane’s clothing. Obeying to what you have been told. When you were done you went back with Carol to the camp. You went over to Glenn handing him his clothes back. – “Aw sweet Y/n!” – he said bowing to you as a thank you. It made you smile back. You then went over to the campfire where Daryl sat munching on some meat. You gestured in silence to his clothing, moving them up in your hands.
Daryl gave you a brief glance before continue to ignore you. You wanted to place it down as Daryl suddenly pointed at his tent. You nodded back making your way over to his tent to lay it down in the front. You barely got up when you felt two arms wrap tightly around you. It startled you making you squeak loudly. Recognizing the arms around you, you eased up.
“Do that again sweetheart I like the way you sound.” – you heard Carol’s husband comment at you. Daryl spitted on the ground turning his gaze towards him in a tight clench. You turned around glaring at him for even saying such a thing in front of Carl. Carl was still hugging you as you held your hands against his back.
Carol gave you a look of sympathy wishing she could do something against her husband’s behaviour. You turned your attention down to your nephew. You led him away from everyone. – “Stay close with him!” – you heard Shane call out to you. You looked briefly over your shoulder seeing him stand by the car, elbow leaning against the open door. You simply turned back to the front as Shane scoffed. Finding you very cocky and thinking you were full of attitude when you honestly weren’t.
You just never understood why Shane was like this towards you. Carl and you made your way towards the woods a bit drifting away from the others. – “Auntie Y/n.” – Carl said as you hummed loud as a reply. Carl jumped on top of a log balancing his way across. You remained by his side in case he lost his balance. Carl hopped off joining your side. He picked up a stick, swaying it around. – “Do you still think about dad?” – he asked as it made you stop shocked. Then you turned around to him with a sweet smile.
“Everyday little one.” – you answered stroking his cheek. Your motion slowed down feeling a sudden wave of sadness. Thinking back about your brother Rick made you emotional. Carl noticed how glossy your eyes had become. – “Sorry auntie Y/n… I didn’t mean to make you sad.” – he said feeling guilty of ever asking it. You sniffed loud, blinking your tears away. – “Don’t worry about it Carl.” – you told him with a laugh.
You straightened your posture pulling him close to your body for a hug. – “If you ever want to talk about your dad and feel like you have no one to turn to, you come to me.” – you said hugging him tightly. Some twigs snapped as it didn’t make you respond quickly enough. Before you knew it had someone grabbed your elbow, pulling you away from Carl. – “I told you to stay close!” – it was Shane who yelled at you. Holding you roughly by the elbow.
“Do you want to put Carl in danger?” – he continued shaking at your elbow. – “Do you think you can save Carl from any walkers?” – he laughed once mockingly. – “Let her go!” – Carl called out running up to Shane to pound his fists against his chest. – “Go to your mother Carl!” – Shane made clear pushing Carl off him. – “Don’t talk to him like that!” – you answered loudly.
Shane’s face contracted with anger. He grabbed you by your neck, pushing your head down. – “I am so done with your attitude Y/n!” – he responded pulling you with him. – “No! leave her alone!” – Carl shouted at him. – “Go to your mother Carl!” – Shane roared out. Carl turned around taking a run for it while wiping his tears away.
“Shane let me go!” – you screamed trying to get his grip from on your neck. He puffed loud pushing you down onto the ground. Body hitting the ground and rolling a bit over. – “I’ve had it with you Y/n!” – he made clear pacing around. Wiping his chin. Breezing around like a hungry wolf. – “I don’t want you near him anymore. You are a bad influence.” – he spoke rubbing his hand over his head. You scoffed shockingly with an amusing undertone. – “I’m sorry. Boss!” – you snapped at him sarcastically.
Shane puffed his chest up slightly raising his hand till he stopped. Eyes widening at the feeling at the back of his head. – “You raise that hand of yours and I’ll shoot.” – you heard come from behind him. Leaning a bit to the side, you saw Daryl stand behind Shane with his crossbow against the back of his head. Shane lowered his hand again with a grunt.
Daryl moved his crossbow slightly to the side, right over his shoulder. An arrow fired. With a zap it found it’s target. Seconds later the sound of a corpse dropping. You had gasped looking over your shoulder to see the last of a walker drop down. – “Next one will be through your head.” – Daryl whispered to Shane. Shane moved storming off.
Daryl lowered his crossbow stepping over to you. He lowered his hand to you, looking away. Hesitantly you took it allowing him to pull you back up to your feet. – “Tha-“ – you started cut off by Daryl walking off. Taking a few deep breaths, you returned afterwards back to camp. Lori looked at you concerned holding Carl against her side. You simply smiled faintly at her to show her it was all right. You didn’t want her to worry. You took refuge in your tent needing time alone.
At nightfall some were sitting around the campfire. You sat near Glenn laughing silently at some funny things he said. You stopped laughing seeing Shane seemingly make his way over to you. He neared and before he could take another step had Daryl gotten up from his seat near you. His gaze stern, posture grand. Carol watched Daryl pressing her lips amusingly together.
Shane puffed with a shake of his head, turning back around. You were looking at Daryl, questionable when your eyes locked as he looked back at you. The contact was brief as Daryl seated himself back down as if nothing had occurred. Shyly smiling at yourself you couldn’t help but feel special that Daryl seemingly did seem to care for you. Otherwise he wouldn’t step in and just let Shane do whatever he likes around you.
Daryl noticed you were staring all smiley at him, making him shift his posture more away from you. You smiled looking down making briefly eye contact with Carol across the fire. Instantly you snorted knowing she was probably thinking the same. Glenn went on to talk to you as if nothing had happened.
After a few days you started to notice Daryl was more around you. Always near to keep a close eye on Shane. Whenever he even made the slightest movement towards you, he made one little movement to let Shane know if he even tried he’d be face to face with him. One day you decided to tease him about it. You were in the woods with Carol, Lori and Carl further down as you made your way over to Daryl who was keeping a watchful eye on you all.
Daryl looked uncomfortable away when you neared. – “Daryl.” – you said to greet him. – “Y/n.” – he mumbled back, looking around as if searching for walkers. You weren’t getting much out of him further so you decided to prank him. Suddenly you gasped loud as if startled. It made Daryl turn his head concerned to you. – “Is that Shane?” – you called out making Daryl turn his head again to look in the direction you were looking.
He immediately took a defensive pose before you, almost grabbing for his crossbow. When he noticed he was looking at nothing, he sighed loud. – “Damn it Y/n!” – he grunted out. – “Do you think this is funny?” – he asked looking your way. – “I do when you get so protective over me.” – you responded with a smile. Daryl rolled with his eyes. – “Like hell I care.” – he outed sounding annoyed.
You kept looking all smiley at him making it almost impossible for him to keep himself from looking back at you. – “I think you do care. Otherwise you wouldn’t keep Shane away from me.” – you told him. Daryl puffed loud. – “Maybe I just don’t like him.” – he responded with half a shrug. – “Or you just very much like me?” – you teased grabbing him by his shirt.
Daryl swallowed nervously when your noses almost touched. Daryl’s expression softened around you. His breathing tickling your lips. His expression made you blink surprised seeing the lovey dovey’s in his eyes. He moved his hand to your cheek letting it brush against it. Before he knew it he closed the gap between your lips, kissing you hard. You hummed loud, pulling away. - "So not caring are you?" - you chuckled out. - "Shut up." - Daryl answered before shutting you up with another kiss.
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lap girl (3)
summary. there’s no better position for daryl than when his girl is in his lap 😉🥵
warnings. smut, unprotected sex, handjob, cursing, fluff
MINORS DNI (18+), I DO NOT CONTROL YOUR CONSUMPTION ON THIS BLOG 👻
divider credits. @cafekitsune
prison
Her hips jolted in adjustment atop of his own, driving his cock deeper within the depths of her arousal glazed cervix, pulling a long drawn moan out from Daryl’s parted lips, as his eyelids fluttered in an abyss of euphoric peace. It was all he needed, to be within her, to feel her perfectly close, and he hadn’t needed to drive a hard bargain to have her crawling wantonly on his lap. Y/n’s fingers wove in his hair that had grown since the survivors of Woodbury had amounted to the numbers of the prison, relieving the stress that Daryl felt to provide for the increased population.
She was stressed too, working her ass off as she watched Rick potter about in his little farm, almost oblivious to the subsequent efforts the rest of them strived through to salvage supplies - he needed a rest though after everything, and this was y/n and Daryl’s own substitute of that. Their lips messily moulded together, drinking up the others escaping sounds, neither of them wanted to attract any peepers to their intimacy which was hard to come by with the afflicting chores that had to be completed.
“Ya feel so good girl.” At the sound of his gruff voice, y/n mewled lightly, burying her rolling-eyed face in his shoulder, as she wiggled insistingly against his lazy thrusts. It was midday, however despite that they were fuelled with the weakness of exhaustion, using the last of the energy that they had reserved for one another. “Thatta girl.” Daryl placed his large and rough hands on her hips, moving her in unison with his sloppy thrusts that somehow managed to hit the perfect spot even with his tired exterior.
“Dar-“ a yelp stifled in her throat as she clasped a hand over her mouth to block it from reaching any passing ears, as she chose to bite lightly on his still clothed shoulder, scratching lightly at his leather vest in sexual distress; her peak was coming closer and closer with each passing second, and so Daryl leaned back against the wall in their cell that was their escape from everything outside, and brushed his tingling fingertips against her angelic face. “I love you.” Her confession that had been spoken many times before came out as a whisper, as his heavy lidded eyes met her watery orbs.
“Love ya more sunshine.” Daryl muttered, his breath hitting her lips as he raised his hips so that it was easier to increase the pace in which his cock was moving inside of her, his head resting against the grey bricks that supported his position. “Gonna have ta pull outta ya soon.” He reminded her, watching y/n screw her face up at the concept, however it was the safest option considering Glenn and Maggie had used up the supply in the stores that were nearby to their location. “Ya gonna cum first girl, don’ ya worry.”
To emphasise his point, he reached his hand down so that the pad of his thumb was swirling disoriented circles around her clit, and y/n all but launched herself at him as she passionately joined their lips again, muffled moans spilling out occasionally for their lack of required air. “Fuck- I’m, I’m gonna-“ She had no time to finish her sentence as she threw her head back as a reaction from the rush that flowed intensely throughout her body, and Daryl leaned tentatively forward, chasing her lips, as he lifted her a little so he could pull out from her sweet cunt.
As soon as he did so, y/n in her fucked out haze grabbed his erection that was covered in her essence in her hand, stroking him at a desperate pace, biting his lip to catch the tracker off guard. “Shit.” Daryl closed his lustful blue eyes as his face became slack, all of the sensations that he was experiencing driving him wild. It wasn’t long before he came, spilling his seed across the expanse of y/n’s naked thigh, and he could finally catch his breath. “Ya jus’ can’t get ‘nough, I swear.” There was a dopey smile on his face, one that he reserved solely for his girl, and he caressed the back of her neck, before pulling her closer, until she was once again on his lap.
#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon fluff#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon fic#twd smut#norman reedus x reader#norman reedus smut#twd x reader#twd x you#twd imagine
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WICKED d.dixon
☆ WORD COUNT - 2.1K
DARYL DIXON X FEM!READER
☆ SUMMARY - you were sensitive, daryl was hot headed. daryl often carried anger in his voice to protect you, never did you think he'd use it against you.
☆ WARNINGS - yelling, argument, sensitive!reader, blood, gore, fighting walkers, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷
the prison had fallen, tensions were rising. it was just you and daryl on the roads now, attempting to find your group again. you should have noticed the way he shook his head earlier or the way he sighed loudly and squeezed his eyes shut.
you cursed yourself for not knowing sooner.
daryl dixon was never a man that anyone could say was overly patient. but when it came to you, he’d wait years for you to utter a mere sentence. he was suddenly as patient as they come. but that didn’t change his true nature.
you’d been separated from the group for quite a while now. it was just the two of you on the roads.
at first, you’d been silent as a mouse, wondering if everyone was okay.
soon after, you realised that it was daryl who was also just as silent. you began speaking, in hopes of raising his mood. you assured him, the group had found their way back to them hundreds of times before, this would undoubtedly be no different.
but daryl didn’t so much as glance at you, barely letting out a grunt before turning his head. obviously, your plan in trying to lift his mood only dampened it.
however, you didn’t stop there.
and you should have, you really should have.
perhaps if you’d spent less time talking and waffling on, he wouldn’t be as angry as he was. perhaps if you’d just listened to him and nodded with your head bent, he wouldn’t have snapped.
albeit everything was happening so quickly.
you hadn’t even registered the infected make their way out. it took only moments before your life practically flashed before your eyes.
daryl’s back was against yours, his own knife out as he plunged it into walkers heads. in return, you attempted to do the same, holding the knife at it’s base with shaky hands. but you weren’t strong nor brave like daryl was. when fighting, it was obvious just how different the two of you were, how different you’ve always been. and you couldn’t lie as to say it wasn’t throwing you off your game.
not that you ever really had game.
a walker grabbed at your shoulders causing you to let out a fearful whimper. you used the time you had to plunge the knife into it’s head. your eyes widened as you missed the brain, blood spurted out into your face and onto your clothes. you took the knife out and tried again, this time the walker fell limp at your feet.
before you could so much as try and attempt to take out another walker, one practically lurched onto you from the side.
daryl felt you hit against his back and cursed you. you were so damn clumsy and usually, he was okay with it. more often than not he’d smile at you, kiss your hurt forehead and tell you that you must begin looking where you’re going but now, he was anything but comforting. if anything, it took everything in him not to spin around and yell at you then and there.
but he didn’t, merely because he was too preoccupied with killing the walker in his hands. he plunged the knife forward, hitting two walkers and piercing straight through their heads. with a separate hand, he shoved the knife into another.
he couldn’t deny the relief that flooded his veins as he took out every last walker on his side.
he rolled his eyes before readying his arms, beginning to spin around and just knowing you’d need help.
his eyes widened at the sight of you on the ground.
foot pushing up against a walker, you attempted to get it away. while another was crawling on you, you could have let out a whimper, knowing your knife had been tossed away from you.
there were too many.
as if the ‘big man in the sky’ had answered your prayers, you closed your eyes shut at the feeling of blood spurting out onto your face. finally, you peeled them open upon the sound of groaning and gargling coming to a stop. the sight of daryl dixon came into view, he’d taken out every last walker.
and he did not look pleased.
“daryl―” you couldn’t so much as get a word out. before you could even try to defend your cause, he was speaking.
“are you fuckin’ stupid?!” daryl was an angry man, through and through. he channelled that anger, using it for things like this, taking out walkers or any other said enemy. never, had you been on the receiving end of his bellowing voice. “you ain’ gonna fucking make it out here if you need me watching your back every other second!”
you could feel your eyes sting, pathetically.
you didn’t want to cry nor did you want to let daryl see you cry, not like this. he’d wiped your tears a thousand times over, even if it was because someone was yelling at you. you’d claim that it’s no big deal, that you were being dramatic and he’d always swoop in, telling you that it’s not dramatic and nobody should yell at a ‘flower like you’. you wondered what changed. “i was trying.” you uttered out pathetically once more, voice all broken.
“wasn’t tryin’ enough!” his hand roughly grabbed yours, practically hoisting you up from the ground. you let out the smallest of whimpers. not because it hurt but because you’d never seen him this angry at you. “are you hurt?” but his voice was anything but caring. it seemed as though you were just another burden to him.
instead of replying, you merely shook your head, it was bent down so he couldn’t see your watery eyes.
but he took it as a well enough response, because he cleared his throat, pocketing his knife. “we have to keep moving.”
you wondered if he’d fallen guilty after his words spat you in the face, you guessed he did because for the duration of the walk, he kept glancing back at you, as if to see if you were still so upset.
and you were.
perhaps it really was a silly thing to be upset about. but daryl knew how much you hated yelling. he was well aware of all the baggage it came from, the flashbacks it may have caused. he knew you better than anyone, he’d been the one to wipe your tears from the same thing many times ago.
deep down you knew he was only yelling because the emotions were high. he was worried about the kids of the prison, everyone else. he was worried about rick and carl, carol and judith, everyone there was to worry about, he was doing the worrying. he got in his head like that a lot.
but that didn’t change the fact that he’d yelled at you so easily, as if he’d been dying to all day.
and could you so much as blame him anymore? you had been talking his ear off. no doubt, because you thought you were doing the right thing but you tried to put yourself in his shoes. you’d get annoyed too, right?
the difference between you both?
you never would have so much as dreamed about talking to him the way he spoke to you.
“there’s a cabin around here, we’ll hole up for the night.” he received no response, so he turned his head. “y’ listening?”
once again, you didn’t speak, merely nodding. he sighed before turning his head and squeezing his eyes shut. he didn’t apologise, stubborn to the end. he didn’t often apologise to you, probably because he never found himself in a position where he had to but you were the complete opposite, always apologising profoundly for everything you did, even if it hadn’t been your fault.
you wondered if he wasn’t apologising because he wasn’t actually sorry.
he used his hand to beat down on the door, waiting to hear groans and gurgles. when he didn’t, he opened the door, peering inside. it was safe.
he let you go, watching as you practically scurried inside, ready to get away from the horrid outside world. maybe you were ready to get away from him. he found guilt eating at his insides, like a walker biting into flesh. the thought of you being angry with him was worse than the thought of getting bit right about now.
but he knew you, knew you more than anyone. and he knew you weren’t angry with him, you were merely upset.
stubborn as he was, he needed to make it better for he shouldn’t have yelled at you, as annoyed as he was.
after lighting a fire, he made his way towards the kitchen, where he somehow knew you’d be. as if he could sense your presence and everywhere it loomed. he could have spotted the back of your head from a mile away. there you were, stood in the kitchen in front of the sink, you must have been checking if they had running water. surprise, surprise, they didn’t.
he leaned his body against the door frame, head gently landing on it as he watched you. you were yet to notice his presence, your hands scrubbing dryly at the other. there was blood coating all over your hands, not your own, walker blood. you needed it off and you needed it off now.
daryl knew how you got, always fussing over getting dirty as it was but when it came to walkers, you didn’t want any of it on you. it was always a challenge when the group was willingly putting walker guts all over their coats to disguise themselves.
he’d had enough of watching you, opting to walk inside the room. “c’mere, angel.” you heard his words, freezing up and he could only feel guilt eat at his bones. he carried a cloth, slightly damp. you allowed him to take your hands in his own, cloth gently working against the dirtied skin. “y’alright?” you didn’t respond, nodding.
you hadn’t so much as opened his mouth since he’d yelled at you.
“baby…” and then he heard it, the mere sniffle that had you turning your head.
“‘m okay.” voice cracking showing that you were not, in fact, okay.
he could only frown at you. he felt you try to move away but his hands kept you still, grasping your own and keeping you in place. he waited in silence until you were ready to look up at him. when you did, he almost wished you’d hadn’t. your eyes were red rimmed and watery. you’d been crying. no longer was there that judgemental piece in his eyes. instead, you could only catch the guilt swarming in them.
“‘m sorry.” was the words that you practically clung to, that left his mouth. “‘m so sorry, baby, c’mere.” you felt his arms wrap you up.
you were too upset to argue.
so instead, you allowed him to take you into an embrace, hell you threw your arms around his neck to hold him impossibly closer. there was that gentle feeling again, the one you’d longed for so much. but you couldn’t have asked, no. how could you ask for comfort from the same person that’d hurt you in the first place?
thankfully, daryl made most of your decisions for you.
“‘m sorry.” you croaked out. “i wasn’t looking and then the walker just came out of nowhere and i swear i tried―”
daryl was quick to cut you off.
your head was held in his own dirty hands. though you hated the dirt on yourself, there was almost a comforting feeling to the dirt on him. perhaps it was the familiarity. “you ain’ got nothin’ to be sorry for, alright? nobody should yell at you, ‘specially not me.”
you didn’t know whether to agree or not.
“you did what you could ‘n i’m proud of you, y’know that?” you felt your eyes begin to get watery again, god you wished you could stop crying. as if he could read your mind, he spoke, “‘n it’s okay to cry, i was bein’ an asshole.”
you sniffled before giggling slightly. “you were.”
he couldn’t help the way his lips turned up at the sound he’d missed so dearly. “yeah, i was, wasn’t i? ‘m just… worried, y’know? for everyone. not everyone has a flower like you in their group.”
you shook your head with a sniffle, ignoring his words directed to you. “they’re gonna be fine, we’ll find ‘em.”
“yeah, we will.” he nodded, as if whatever came from your mouth, he could suddenly believe. you had that effect on him that he’d never tell. “but right now, i jus’ care about you, alright? c’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.”
and how could you deny hands once so angry, now so gentle?
main masterlist/daryl's masterlist
#daryl#daryl dixon#daryl x reader#daryl dixon x reader#daryl x you#daryl dixon x you#daryl x y/n#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl imagine#daryl dixon imagine#daryl drabble#daryl oneshot#daryl smut#daryl fluff#daryl angst#daryl dixon drabble#daryl dixon oneshot#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon fluff#daryl dixon angst#the walking dead#twd#twd x reader#twd x y/n#twd x you#twd imagine#twd fluff#twd angst#twd oneshot#daryl the walking dead
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Under The Sheets | Carl Grimes
Carl Grimes x fem!reader
CW: pussy eating, getting caught
Request: hiii! I’m not sure if this is the place where you submit requests, but i guess i’ll find out! I was wondering if you could write a Carl Grimes x female reader where Rick walks in on Carl eating out the reader but carl is under the sheets so rick doesn’t know what’s going on and he asks the reader where he is and she says something like “Carl, ricks wondering where you are” and carl comes out from under the blankets and says something like “what’s up dad?” Rick catches on and is just disappointed and says something along the lines of “Jesus Christ carl” that follows in a very awkward talk from rick to the reader and carl. I’m not sure if that made sense sorry. Also, thank you, i love love love your work <3 <3
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You moaned softly as Carl’s tongue flicked over your clit, you reached your hand under the blanket to grip his hair, you gasped as the door opened slightly, you looked over to see Rick in the doorway. “Jesus Rick you scared me.” You said silently thanking Carl for putting a blanket over him.
“Sorry Y/N have you seen Carl anywhere? I need his help and i can’t find him anywhere.” Rick said as Carl slowly started rubbing your clit, you choked back a moan before speaking.
“Carl, Rick is wondering where you are.” You said looking at the blanket moving as Carl was slowly climbing over you, he poked his head out from under the blanket looking at his dad.
“Yeah, what’s up dad?” Carl asked calmly like he wasn’t eating you out moments before. Rick looked at Carl confused before his eyes widened as he figured out what his son was doing.
“Jesus Christ Carl, you know what. Both of you get dressed and meet me downstairs we need to have a talk.” Rick said before slamming the door shut before walking downstairs.
You and Carl looked at each other before laughing. “You asshole! Do you know how hard it is to have a conversation with your dad when you’re doing that!?” You slapped him upside the head playfully before climbing out from underneath him and grabbing your clothes. Carl just laughed “Hey you seemed to be doing just fine.” He said before getting off the bed and grabbing your hand after you got dressed, you both walked downstairs to find a very pissed off Rick in the living room. “Sit.” Rick demanded pointing to the couch, you and Carl sat on the couch, you looking down at your lap while Carl avoided eye contact with his dad.
“Listen, i get it you’re both teenagers, you both have hormones, but you need to know the..the risks of doing what you’re doing.” Rick said as Carl groaned. “Dad you already gave me the talk at the farm.” Carl stated finally making eye contact with his dad. “I understand Carl but after..after mom i want you to know what the risks are. I don’t want to have this conversation either but I’ll make it short and simple.” Rick said pinching the bridge of his nose. You finally looked up at Rick before sighing.
“Rick we haven’t done it yet, the most we’ve done is..well what you walked in on, Glenn has already given Carl plenty of condoms, but we’re waiting until we’re both ready.” You said releasing a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. Carl grabbed your hand smiling at you softly.
Rick sighed before nodding “Okay that’s good but it’s still not getting you two out of this. I get that we are in a safer location with more doctors and more equipment but that does not mean i want to be a grandpa just yet okay.” Rick said looking between the two of you. You and Carl both nodded as you both blushed. “Good.” Rick said standing up “Now Carl lets go we need to go work on the wall.” He said grabbing Carl’s arm and dragging him out of the house.
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Thank you to the anon that requested this! For those of you asking for the oh hell no part 2 give me a few days and it’ll be out! <3
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merle was a creep at times but he was on his way to redemption. i love the idea of sort-of-brother-in-law merle that got to live a little longer and make an effort to be a better person.
this is assuming daryl's partner is a female, btw
❜ ─ more under cut ─ ❛
• merle realizing just how head over heels daryl is for you. he would give him HELL over it but at the end of the day he would be so protective over this little ray of light in his baby brother's life
• you think daryl can be scary when a guy's looking at you the wrong way? the guy's quite literally done for when merle finds out
• "merle, you can't say that, that's offensive-" "aw hell, y'all are some damn pansies!"
• "lemme know when you get tired of my little bro, i'll show you what a real man's like-" "you ever shut yer damn mouth, merle?"
• ^ he's not serious though. he just likes to get daryl riled up and thinks it's funny to see your nose scrunch up in disgust, even if he does end up getting clocked in the jaw for it
• when the brothers go on supply runs, merle points out necklaces or earrings they come across, encouraging daryl to take it for you because "women love shiny shit"
• he's always asking you when you're going to pop out a little boy so he can finally be an uncle
• "how ya know it wouldn't be a girl?" "ain't been a girl with dixon blood since i been alive, brother. ain't gonna happen." (if you and daryl have a baby, it definitely does happen)
• when the prison falls, you can't find daryl and there's no more time, so you end up running from the prison with merle
• he hates it
• like every second of it
• not necessarily because he minds your company, but moreso because this is a huge fucking weight on his shoulders
• your wellbeing is now his #1 priority because you're daryl's girl and that makes you family, and he has no intentions of letting his little brother down again
• so it's a lot of pressure
• plus you keep giving him that nasty ass side-eye like he pissed in your cornflakes any time he says something that he finds hilarious (it's actually just offensive), and he's starting to think your sense of humor is nonexistent
• you expect him to make some vulgar jokes or try to come onto you at any given minute, but to your surprise, he actually never does
• like i said, he was never serious and he only joked about it to mess with daryl. without daryl around, he's rather respectful of your space
• at night he tells you stories of his time in the military before he got discharged and went to prison
• please don't cry around him :) he likes you and all, but he would really rather cut off his other hand than have to try and comfort you - that's daryl's job
• the only time he manages to not be an ass when you're crying is when you mention worrying about daryl and missing him
• merle lets out a hefty sigh in response, ruffles your hair with his one hand, and admits that he misses him, too
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back when you were shane’s girl, rick would barely look at you.
it didn’t matter that shane was banging lori behind both your backs. rick was still nothing if not wildly respectful.
you could’ve used the company back then on the farm when your relationship with your boyfriend was slipping. when quiet tent quickies weren’t enough for you.
now, what would shane think of the girl he thought wouldn’t be able to go on without him, happily getting her guts rearranged by his best friend?
rick had held out as long as he could but with lori long gone and carl not taking up any issue, there was no reason to deny himself you. in the wake of all that tragedy, there was nothing better to ease his mind than your sweet, sweet cunt.
shane would be seriously pissed off to learn that not one but both of your holes were being filled by your fellow original atlanta camp members.
the archer that ground his gears so much was taking up your mouth with his cock, enjoying the way that every thrust of rick’s sent you straight down his length.
if shane was in the room or even in the hallway, he wouldn’t be able to miss the downright debaucherous sounds coming from the three of you. rick lands a light slap on your ass, a reminder that you’re not the only ones within these walls. rick was nothing if not wildly polite.
you wiggle your hips back into him in response, feeling your core tighten as daryl fucks your mouth. shane could never fill you up this way: he was one man after all.
the record time that shane had you soaked and coming undone was nothing compared to how fast rick and daryl warmed you up. if they even breathed in your pussy’s direction you were suddenly squeezing your legs and starting to drip with arousal.
you miss shane, but even as you clamp down on rick in your pussy and hum around daryl in your mouth, you remember that everything happens for a reason.
#the walking dead#twd imagine#shane walsh#shane walsh x reader#shane x reader#rick grimes imagine#rick grimes x reader#rick x reader#daryl dixon drabbles#daryl dixion x reader#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon#rickyl x reader#rickyl#rick grimes smut#daryl dixon smut#twd smut#rick grimes#rick grimes x you#daryl dixon x reader#f/m/m#threes0me#not beta read#can’t want to write more shane’s ex! reader#grimesgirll#rickcentric tbh
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Stepdad!rick walking in on you touching yourself in the middle of the night, because he thought he heard something n’ just wanted to check on you…
it's been a slow, calm day in alexandria, yet you're hot and bothered and have been since the morning. you've been watching rick's biceps flex under his white shirt as he helps around the community with a few repairs. your mother is at her friends, probably drowning in wine with her nose in a book. and you, of course, sit pretty on the front porch with a glass of iced tea in hand. you catch rick's wandering eyes land on you a few times, and you bite your gloss covered lip as you imagine him bending you over and taking you right there. your pink polished nails dig into your thigh and you look away from him, swallowing hard. you push your thighs together, which isn't a good idea, because now your clit aches even worse. you can't take it anymore. letting out a breath, you trail back into the house and up the stairs. unbeknownst to you, your brain is so cloudy that you don't even realize how the bedroom door is left slightly open.
you sit on the bed, back against the floral patterned pillows. you lift your hips and drag your shorts down your legs, throwing them to the side. you slip your hand down your panties and suck in a breath as your finger meets your clit. you bite your bottom lip and let out a soft, subtle strained whine. images of rick above you flash in your mind and you close your eyes tight. you think of his fingers replacing yours and his deep voice whispering sweet praises against your lips. just then, you hear the stairs creak. your eyes shoot open and you quickly remove your hand from your clit. rick reaches your door and you pull your knees to your chest, trying to seem as normal as possible.
"hey, kid, i was just wondering if-" he opens the door fully and sees you, only in a tank top and panties, on your bed with a visibly flustered expression. your cheeks are red and your eyes are glossy, still so flustered and cloudy from not being able to cum. rick takes one look and he knows. "you okay?" he drawls, shutting the door behind him as he walks to the side of your bed.
you look up at him with teary, far away eyes. "i..i wasn't...i just..." you stammer and he takes your jaw in his hand. he quiets you with his lips, a kiss you've been searching for all day. before you can even whine, he moves in between your legs and plants a few kisses on your inner thigh. your breath hitches at that and your core aches.
"whiny baby." he mocks and your bottom lip wobbles. rick taps your thigh and when you lift your hips, he drags your panties down your legs. you subtly gasp at the cool air and without warning, he licks up your slit and suckles on your clit. you grip the sheets.
your mind is fuzzy and all you can think about is your stepfather's tongue on your cunt. "rick...i need...i can't.." you babble and he traces your little hole with his finger.
"tell me, honey. you're a big girl." you whine again and he laps at your pussy. "what do you need?"
"your cock-need your cock." you breathe and he chuckles lowly. he must have been needing you all day too, because he holds your hips down and eats you out as if he's been waiting for an eternity. you're a sensitive thing, he's came to notice, so watching the way your pretty lips part and the way the tears stream down your cheeks, he grows in his jeans.
you bite your lip when he moves away to unbuckle his belt and tug his jeans and boxers off. your mouth almost waters at the sight of his already hard cock springing up. you mindlessly scramble to your knees, and his big hand pushes your hair from your face. you look up at him through damp, fluttering eyelashes and he taps his cock on your awaiting tongue. he pushes it past your lips and you hum accordingly, your perfectly manicured hands wrapping around what you can't seem to fit in your mouth.
"atta girl." he murmurs, breath hitching as you move your head back and forth. his hand finds the back of your head, pushing it enough so you gag around his cock. he lets go, and you move back, a string of saliva following. you look up at him, pretty eyes already tired and fucked out and he's no where close to being done with you. the sight nearly makes him cum on the spot.
he lowly instructs you to turn around, and like the obedient girl you are, you listen. he places his hand between your shoulder blades and pushes down, your face being pressed into the mattress. he holds your hips up, making sure you're right where he wants you. rick grips your ass when you whimper impatiently, which only makes you more pouty. he teasingly drags his cock up your slit and you hiss through your teeth. you guess he decides to be nice though, because he soon pushes his way in, and you let out a strained moan. he holds your waist tight as he fucks into you, making sure he hits as deep as possible. soft tears stream down your face and you soon become a sensitive, trembling mess. he holds you against him and you babble incoherent nothings as his cock abuses your poor cunt.
"i need to..rick, i'm gonna.." you pant and he brings his finger to your puffy clit, rubbing circles and coaxing that much awaited orgasm out of you.
"go ahead, doll." your eyes shut tight as you cum, shaking and whimpering. rick's high comes soon after, pulling out in time to shoot his hot load onto your back. he gives your ass one last squeeze before he lets you lay back on the bed. he bites his lip and chuckles at the sight of your pretty, sore cunt and your trembling thighs. he presses a sweet kiss to your lips and pushes your damp hair from your face. "that gonna hold you over until tonight?"
#rick grimes#the walking dead#rick grimes ⛥*:･#rick grimes x reader#rick grimes smut#andrew lincoln#rick grimes imagine#stepdad!rick#twd imagine
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thinking about Daryl Dixon dating a book worm girly . . . they would meet on the Greene farm. She was a good friend of Hershel’s son Shawn, and stayed and lived with the family when the outbreak started. She would spend most of her time with Hershel and Beth or with her face in a book . . . she would like to be alone a lot, having her own spot on the farm away from the house where she could peacefully read and not have to worry about interacting with anyone, a spot that used to be her and Shawn’s . . . also a spot where Daryl decides to set up his own small camp away from everyone . . . well everyone but her. He would be hesitant at first to approach her when he gets back from another search for Sofia, seeing her leaning up against a tree with a thick book in her lap. He’d seen her around a few times in the short amount of time he’s been at the farm, only with Beth or Hershel. He’d ask her what she wants, assuming that she was waiting for him. She’d apologize, saying that she just wanted to be away from everyone, and surprising the both of them he said with a grunt she could stay as long as she didn’t touch his shit or start reading aloud. And for the first time he sees a small smile on her lips . . . but it was quickly covered when she lifted her book up from her lap.
Time-skip to after the farm falls and before they find the prison. They would become closer . . . well as close as two antisocial and closed off people could get. It was more like they found comfort in each other’s silent presence. She was so good at being quiet and finding her way around in the woods that she would often join daryl tracking/hunting. The first time daryl sees her smile since the farm is when he gives her a book he found in the trunk of an abandoned car. Since she couldn’t carry a bunch of books since they were traveling, every time she was done with a book he’d try and search for another to switch it with . . . would let her quietly mumble about the book she was reading when she couldn’t sleep and he was on watch. Would walk next to her as she walks n reads, making sure she wouldn’t trip.
When they make it to the prison, he’d bring her back multiple books whenever he goes out looking for supplies, and over time the small desk she had in her cell was cluttered with books . . . all from daryl. He would let her ramble about her books whenever they were on watch in the watch tower, him standing up and looking out while she comfortably sat on the floor with her book. He’d realize his feelings for her at the strange and unfamiliar feeling he felt in his chest as he watched her read a book to Carl and Beth who was holding Judith.
Time-skip to when they are now together, he would come back late from his shift at the look out tower in the prison and would check on her in there cell, expecting to see her sleeping since it was late . . . Instead she was curled up in her bed, technically now there bed, reading with a lit candle next to her. Not wanting to sleep without him by her side . . . and wanting to also finish another chapter. Whenever daryl would wake up from a nightmare she would quietly read to him, taking him out of his tortured mind and into the lovely world of her book. Whenever she was too focused on a book he’d surprise her with a kiss on her cheek or lips . . . completely stealing her attention. All she would have to do is bat her eyelashes and say please and daryl would fold . . . reading to her when she’s to tired to read herself, she feels so safe and warm when she’s in his arms as she listens to him read to her . . . he always kisses her forehead when he notices she fell asleep, tucking her bookmark a few pages back, knowing that she probably wouldn’t remember the last few pages he read to her.
˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( take this as my application to write for twd !!! I wrote this in 20 minutes at 1am, soo it’s probably not the best I just couldn’t sleep without getting this written down. Please let me know if I should continue writing for twd . . . I’m currently rewatching the show and my love for daryl just grows stronger !!! Again please let me know what you guys think, don’t be a silent reader <333 )
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#﹕─┈ roro’s writing thoughts#the walking dead x reader#twd x reader#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon#daryl x reader#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon fluff#the walking dead fluff#twd fluff#twd imagine#twd daryl#norman reedus#norman reedus x reader#the walking dead daryl#daryl dixon x you#daryl x female reader#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl fanfiction#daryl imagines#daryl x you#rick grimes
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daryl doesn’t think he’s anything special. he never has. but to you? he’s everything.
or
5 times daryl feels your affection down to his core and the many 1 time he unconsciously returns the favor.
cw: 18+ MDNI, p-in-v, mention of injury, swearing, mostly fluff, 4283 words
a/n: this draft got the most votes in the poll, which was surprising tbh! next up medieval au, princess reader, forbidden romance?? hmmmm
one.
daryl hears you coming before he sees you. he knows it’s on purpose, so you don’t startle him (“and get an arrow in the tit or something, i don’t know!” you had explained, laughing). he’s long since taught you how to be quiet when walking over leaves and branches.
his eyes drifted in the direction of the noise, watching you melt out of the trees, water bottle in one hand and knife in the other. you had a bad habit of speeding through or ignoring your own duties in favor of tracking him out into the woods while he was hunting. the teasing looks from rick and carol when they saw the gates open in the evening, revealing the two of you instead of just him, were enough to have him blushing up to his ears, but he couldn’t find it in him to stop you. if anything, daryl found himself lingering closer to the prison when he was first setting out for the day and making his tracks a little easier for you to follow as he went on. he liked to think of it as a teaching moment, encouraging you to follow his lessons, but he knew what it really was.
he liked having you here with him, away from prying eyes and ears. daryl wasn’t big on pda, he’d never been, and you knew that, but you could be as affectionate as you wanted out here.
the smile that split you face when you saw daryl was blinding, creasing your eyes and cheeks, “hey, handsome.”
daryl felt his heart start to pound immediately in his chest and warmth radiate through his belly and down his limbs. he had the distant, bizarre thought that any walker for a few miles would probably be able to smell his blood as it rose rapidly to his face, coloring his cheeks and the tips of his ears.
he scoffed quietly to keep the words he really wanted to say from spilling unbidden from his throat as you caught up to him, instead deadpanning, “handsome? really?”
you hummed, raising a hand to card through his long bangs, eyes tender when they met his, “mhm, very handsome. don’t i tell you every day?”
you leaned up to press a sweet kiss to his lips, no longer than a moment. you hand drifted from his hair down to cup his jaw as you did, and daryl found himself leaning into your palm, his own hand coming up to grip your wrist loosely.
you pulled away with a smaller, more intimate smile, one that daryl had only ever seen directed at him. and, if you had felt the pounding of his heart through his shirt or seen the intensity of his flush, you didn’t say a word.
two.
daryl was distracted.
this council meeting was dragging on much longer than intended. what was initially supposed to be a quick conversation about planning a run to get supplies for judith and a few of the other kids had turned into a heated debate about possibly opening up the council to a few of the people from woodbury. he could understand why. there was still a stark divide between their group and the new people, but daryl had been content to sit back and let the situation mend itself, so long as it didn't escalate.
the discussion was split down the middle. or.. maybe there were more in favor of maintaining the current council? daryl couldn’t tell because he couldn’t focus and he couldn’t focus because every time he tried to lock in on the conversation, he could feel your fingers brush over his knuckles.
earlier, when the meeting started, you had sat yourself right next to daryl, reached under the table, and grabbed his hand where it was resting on his knee. no fanfare, no lovesick gazes, just your fingers intertwined with his calloused ones like they belonged there. which, he mused to himself, maybe they do.
and so there your hand had remained as the meeting went on. every so often, you would brush your fingers lightly over his knuckles, or give his fingers a squeeze if you happened to catch his eyes… which would lead to you chuckling quietly to yourself when his neutral expression would warm over with a blush.
the meeting had been going on for at least an hour. god.
“daryl, what do you think?”
glenn’s voice cut through daryl’s thoughts like a knife. he jerked a little, almost dislodging your hand when he looked across the table, meeting the expectant stares of the council.
“uhh,” he grunted eloquently, “‘bout bringin’ some of them folks on?”
hershel nodded expectantly, his voice thoughtful, “don’t you think we could afford their input? after all, this is their home now just as much as it is ours.”
your fingers brushed again over his knuckles and daryl willed himself not to lose focus. not to allow his mind to run on with thoughts about the softness of your fingers and how much he liked the feeling of your palm against his. how comfortable-
no.
daryl blinked and cleared his throat, “we don’ even have rick on the council right now, i’on think it’s a good idea.”
glenn nodded along with maggie and, reluctantly a moment later, hershel did too, though his mouth had settled into a thin frown.
daryl felt your hand squeeze his twice, taking it as a nonverbal ‘good job!’, and paused only a moment before squeezing back his own nonverbal ‘thank you’. he saw a small smile flit across your face out the corner of his eye.
before the debate could start up again, you were leaning forward and speaking up, saying, “alright, let’s table this for next time then. the run is already planned for the baby stuff, so—?”
hershel’s eyes swept across the table and he nodded, “meeting adjourned, i suppose.”
three.
the woods were clear as daryl looked out over the gate. he could see everything from the watchtower, as was intended, but for once the calm darkness was not a comfort.
instead, every moment that passed heightened the panic that had been swirling in his gut since earlier that evening.
it had been roughly fourteen hours since you had left on a run with glenn and maggie. there was a small gas station a little ways out that looked to be mostly untouched, and you had been pulled to fill in daryl’s usual slot since he was already slated to go hunting.
he was regretting it now, though, as he continued to watch the road leading up to the gate for any sign of maggie’s headlights.
while the general rule of thumb was to be back to the prison before dark, everyone knew that sometimes shit happens, whether it be walkers appearing at the worst possible time, or not being able to secure the haul. hell, shit happened more often than it didn't, as far as daryl was concerned.
maybe the haul had been much larger than the three of you had planned for, and you had to hide some of it away for a return trip.
maybe y'all had come across a herd large enough to block the car's path and had to find a way around it to get home without leading them back behind you.
maybe the gas station had been a bust all together and you’d gone further out in hopes of not returning empty handed.
the thoughts swimming through his mind sent daryl pacing across the small area of the watchtower. back and forth he went, eyes flashing over to the gate of the prison every few seconds.
“you’re gonna wear out your shoes like that.”
oh right. daryl isn’t even on watch, not officially at least. he’d joined carol a little after the sun went down and been up here ever since.
carol continues on despite his brooding silence, “they’re okay. something probably held them up, it happens.”
daryl turned to face carol, scrubbing a hand down his face. he opening his mouth to respond, but before he could, the sound of wheels crunching across gravel made him whip back around.
he barely registered that it was maggie’s car before he was yanking the floor hatch open and climbing down. rick, who’d been poking around the farm despite the late hour, unwilling to admit his own anxiety, was already pulling the gate open to let the car in.
daryl stopped further up the hill to meet you, and, as soon as you popped the lock on your door, he was tugging it open with one hand and reaching for you with the other.
you went willingly, a sheepish smile on your face as you let him turn you this way and that, checking for any injuries or bites, neither of which you had.
“sorry i’m late, handsome,” you whispered, “i didn’t mean to worry you.”
daryl grunted in response, resisting the urge to press himself against you and feel your heart beat against his skin. he understood that you were capable, and that you had lasted just as long in the apocalypse as he had, but he can't help but wonder if he'll ever get used to this, or if he'll spend any moment you aren't within his reach on the edge of a panic attack.
by then, rick had made his way up the hill to the car and was helping unload their findings from the boot. all things considered, the three of you had brought back a pretty decent amount of stuff.
“everyone alright?” rick questioned, eyes skirting over the contents of the trunk to scan the three of you instead. "what held y'all up?"
maggie shook her head with a smile, “nothing like that. we found a good bit at that gas station, but there was a map of a small trailer park a little ways away, and we thought it was better to go for it while we were right down the road.”
“and we had the space anyway. didn’t make sense to waste a second trip, but it took a little longer to search than we thought,” you added. you had turned to face the group and, under the cover of the dark, you leaned back just slightly into daryl’s side.
carol, who had followed daryl down from the watchtower, hummed, and rick nodded thoughtfully. they both followed behind maggie and glenn, grabbing as much as they could carry from the car and heading up to deposit it for sorting tomorrow.
now alone, daryl took a moment to breathe you in, but he was moving soon as well, heading for the trunk to grab what was left.
he didn’t notice you coming up next to him until he felt your fingers slipping into his pocket.
“found something for you,” you said quietly, standing at his side.
daryl patted his pocket, feeling the dented box of what he assumed to be cigarettes and looked over at you, brows furrowed in confusion.
“i noticed you ran out the other day,” you answered his unasked question, a small smile lifting your cheeks, “combed through every trailer looking for ‘em.”
with that, you turned away from him and back to the trunk.
daryl stood speechless, his heart building up to that rapid thrum he only seemed to feel in your presence.
you had brought something back for him. had spent the daylight rummaging through dirty trailers on the off chance that you’d find a pack of cigarettes to replace his empty one that he himself hadn't even bothered to go searching to replace.
he wanted to think he didn’t understand why you would do something like this, why you would care, but he did. he’d done the same for you, time and time again on the road, if only to see you smile. he understood exactly why.
“‘preciate it,” he grunted, thankful that the darkness surrounding you kept his blush from being too obvious.
you hummed in acknowledgment, and daryl could your small smile growing out the corner of his eye.
four.
having sex in the prison was no easy feat, mostly due to the lack of privacy. a sheet could only provide so much, and even then it did nothing for the noise echoing constantly off the concrete walls.
as far as most were concerned, maggie and glenn had found the best spot early on, making the most unused watchtower their designated private retreat, but you and daryl knew otherwise.
deep in the tombs, which were no longer a threat as they had long since been cleared and sealed, there were a few tucked away offices that had sat empty even after the woodbury residents had been moved in. noise didn’t escape the tombs, and no one ever just wandered in, especially not in the middle of the night, so despite the cell that you and daryl shared, you both much preferred spending your more intimate moments here.
well, daryl did. you weren’t picky, and could be quiet when you really tried, but it made daryl more comfortable.
he’d like to think it was just because he was wary of any listening ears, especially with all the children roaming around, but he knew the truth of his resolve.
daryl had never been a selfish man, and certainly not after the world fell. everything he had, everything he was, he would give to his family in a heartbeat.
but this.. this was just for him.
your body arched beautifully under his, legs falling open to accommodate his weight settling against you. daryl’s hand left your heat, fingers dripping with wetness, to squeeze your hips, using them to guide you as your moved against him.
you were already bare, both of you having stripped each other of your clothes between heated kisses while you stumbled in the office. you hadn’t even made it to the double-stacked cot in the corner, daryl instead pushing you firmly down on the dusty desk and leaning in to mouth at your neck.
you moaned under him now, a breathy sigh of his name, and the sound sent a shiver down daryl’s spine.
“needy girl,” he grunted teasingly, reaching down to grasp his hardness. he dragged the head of his cock up your slit, collecting your wetness and smearing it over your clit.
your head knocked back against the desk and a loud groan burst out of your throat. your knees tried to close around daryl’s waist as if to keep him away, but you arms came up to wrap around him, pulling him closer to your body, and he leaned into you willingly.
your voice trembled when you spoke into his ear, want dripping from every syllable, “please, baby. need you inside me so bad.”
and god, daryl wanted to make you beg for it. he wanted to wait until he could see the desperation in your eyes and then wait some more, but he couldn’t. not when you looked so pretty spread out beneath him and your hands were petting over his shoulders and neck just how he liked. he almost thought you were doing it on purpose, but he knew better. this was just you.
you couldn’t stay off him when he was in you, always tugging at his hair or rubbing his chest, hands scrabbling for any skin you could reach. it used to send him reeling, flustered and blushing bright, but now he looked forward to it. he could feel the want in your touches like physical imprints of your affection.
daryl pushed into your slowly, groaning deep in his chest. your slick walls felt heavenly around him, but daryl was more focused on you right now.
soft whimpers fell from your lips as your hands drifted over his sweat slicked skin. daryl’s thrusts were slow but purposeful, and he ignored your legs squeezing around his waist, trying to urge him to speed up.
“relax, peach,” he soothed, hands drifting up and down your sides in pace with his thrusts, “i’ma take care of you.”
“kiss, please,” you whispered, voice floating past daryl’s ear. he would have missed it if you weren’t pressed together like this.
daryl would not describe himself as a selfish man. he might have had his moments in the past, but now, with the dead walking and a prison full of survivors to protect, it was virtually out of the question.
but as he leaned down to press his lips to yours, feeling your hands finally make their way up into his long strands, daryl thought that he might be a possessive man.
he’d sooner spread you out deep in the woods than have you where anyone could see you like this or hear the noises you make.
no, daryl thought, tongue sliding in your mouth to tangle with yours, this would always be just for him.
five.
daryl came into awareness slowly and then all at once. he startled, trying to sit up, but a searing pain made itself known in his abdomen. the pain clouded his senses, blooming out across his torso and down his limbs. he flops uselessly, feeling like the wind has been knocked out of him.
hearing bits of voices above him, daryl wills himself to focus. he’s hurt, obviously, and it’s pretty fucking bad, but he’ll have to suck it up and figure out a way home if he’s in bad company.
the voices start to filter in. the volume makes his temples throb in rhythm with his abdomen and his heart as the situation starts to force adrenaline through his body.
“—harder! put more pressure on it!”
daryl relaxes just a bit. that’s rick. frantic, angry, but rick all the same.
“what the fuck do you think i’m doing?!” the other voice, higher, snarls in response, “just drive the damn truck!”
and daryl feels his body try to relax all together. he would recognize your voice in his sleep, and this milky haze of pain is no different. he can feel your hands pressing a wad of something soft into his abdomen.
he can hear your panicked breaths and feel the way your fingers flex continuously against his skin. whatever’s wrong with him must be bad, and it definitely hurts like hell, but daryl takes comfort in the weight of your body against his. you won’t let anything happen to him if you can help it, you’d sworn that fiercely, and if you can’t help it then he doesn’t think anyone could have.
daryl can just barely make out the creaking of the gate being pulled open over the sound of rick laying on the horn.
as they pull in, the gravel of the path rocks the truck and daryl feels the ache in his abdomen bloom again, distracting him from his thoughts, but here, knowing he’s safe and back with his family, he allows himself to drift away.
—
this time, when daryl comes into awareness, the first thing he feels is fingers carding through his hair, tugging gently as if to untangle a couple of knots and snarls.
without even opening his eyes he knows it’s you. he can feel the heat of your body settled next to him and smell the soap you like to bathe with. daryl leans towards you, chasing the warmth of your hand against his skin.
the bandages on his stomach are wrapped tight, but it’s more annoying than anything and the pain has finally, thankfully, subsided to a dull ache. daryl stretches on the cot, trying to loosen him limbs from their inactivity, but what he focuses on is your fingers immediately pulling away.
“daryl?” your voice prods quietly, “you awake?”
he opens his eyes slowly, squinting at the sunlight that streams through the bars of the cell. the privacy sheet isn’t down, actually there’s no sheet at all, daryl notes as he looks out. he must be in one of the cells near hershel’s.
“‘m up,” he grumbles, a cough working its way out of his throat. before he can attempt to clear the dryness, you’re standing to grab a bottle of water off some boxes stacked nearby and pressing it into his hand.
your fingers linger against his wrist as you pull away, but you’re resuming your previous position anyway, in a chair brought right up to his bedside.
daryl hasn’t sat up yet, staring instead at you as one of your hands return to his hair and the other rubs down his arm.
a few quiet moments pass before you speak again, head bowed and voice a little choked, “we almost lost you. i almost lost you.”
“didn’t though,” daryl croaks. he feels your grip tighten on his arm and just knows. knows that you’ve been sitting right here every moment that you could since he went down. knows that you probably haven’t had your hands off him. knows you’ve spent the time, however long it’s been, agonizing over what went wrong and how to keep it from happening ever again. he knows.
“i didn’t,” you agree with a barely restrained sniffle. you refuse to allow the tears beading your waterline to fall, but daryl sees them all the same.
oddly, he feels that familiar warmth blossom in his chest. he hates to see you upset, but to see your love, your heart laid so bare for him? daryl thinks he can finally understand the depth of your affections.
plus one.
to anybody who knew what to look for, it was obvious that you and daryl were.. something.
you remembered when the woodbury residents had really began to settle in, how they began to whisper about ‘the hunter and his lady’.
it had confused you at first. the group knew, of course, nothing could be kept a secret from them for too long, but for strangers? it was odd, given that you weren’t very public with your affections.
regardless, with an entire prison to secure and almost triple the amount of people to provide for, it was nothing to think too hard about. there was always something that needed to be done or something bigger to think about. you couldn't afford to think about it now.
eventually, though, you ended up mentioning it to carol, and the older woman had laughed, a teasing edge to her smile as she considered you.
“i think it has less to do with you and more with him, if i’m being honest,” she said.
“more to do with.. daryl?” you said slowly, raising an incredulous eyebrow, “nah, no way.”
carol hummed, her smile turning knowing, “just watch. he’s more affectionate than he gives himself credit for.”
you’d left the conversation feeling like carol had no idea what she was talking about. later that evening, though, when you were sitting with the group for dinner and daryl was sliding a couple pieces of meat from his plate to yours despite your multiple protests, you understood.
your face must have been the textbook picture of a lightbulb going off because carol sent you a wink from across the table, lips twitching like she was hiding a laugh.
it wasn’t that the woodbury residents were over analyzing the very minimal physical affection that passed between you and daryl in a day, no. instead they were observing his quieter, more unconscious actions.
they saw the way that daryl always took care to come and find you before leaving for a run, even if it meant holding everyone up a little.
and how every so often they could find daryl sharpening a knife that was far too small for him to be wielding safely while you sat nearby, watching with a grateful smile.
and how whenever you were in the same room, you always had his eye. daryl had been adamant about keeping you within his sights while you were on the road, and the habit hadn’t left him just because you were behind walls now.
even now, months later, the newer additions to the prison were starting to catch on quicker and quicker.
they overheard daryl talking to glenn about taking your place on the run later today because you’d overdone it in the sun earlier and he wanted you to get some rest.
they saw you gush excitedly every time daryl brought you back any kind of gift, whether it be a pretty rock that he thought you’d like, or your favorite animal to cook into the stew.
they watched him watch the road every time you left for a run, regardless of who was with you, and also saw him come back to be the first to greet you when you returned if he could help it.
daryl was a quiet lover and a private man if you didn’t know what to look for, but if you did, you’d see that his affections ran just as deep as yours.
your thoughts brought a sleep smile to your face as you stretched out on the cot in your shared cell, waiting for daryl to shut off the lantern on your makeshift nightstand in the corner.
you could barely make him out in the dark, but the weight of him settling in next to you sent you right into his arms, your head pillowed on his chest while his arms came up to wrap around your back.
you tilted your head up to place a small kiss to the bottom of his jaw, mumbling a quiet, “love you.”
daryl’s arms tightened around you momentarily before loosening again. you felt him lean down to press a kiss to your hair in turn.
just over the steady thumping of his heart against your ear, you could hear him whisper back, “love you too.”
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Y/N: "I made you a flower crown!"
Daryl: "Do I look like a little girl to you?"
Y/N: "Okay, sorry." *tries to take it back*
Daryl: "Don't touch my flower crown."
#the walking dead#daryl dixon#twd daryl#daryl dixion imagine#daryl dixon twd#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon x you#daryl fanfiction#the walking dead daryl#daryl twd#daryl fluff#twd imagine
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Fake It Til You Make It (Or Drown)
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader
Summary: Daryl finds out you faked an orgasm. Instead of getting mad, he decides to get even.
Warnings: NSFW. Every TWD character is drunk in this. Unprotected p-in-v. Soiling Michonne’s decorative towels and almost drowning Eugene. Carol-mandated makeup time with Daryl turns to edging and angry sex.
And the Oscar for Best Faked Orgasm goes to…
“Y/N,” Daryl groaned, shooting his load deep inside you.
You arched your back and curled your toes, even let out a sultry little gasp for good measure. Forced your walls to clench around his cock then pulse, periodically—you counted a silent one, two, squeeze in your head every so often and tried to make it so your tremors felt authentic. You practically had this shit down to a science by now.
Women like you weren’t built for quickies. You needed more time to cum, no matter the occasion.
You simply couldn’t and wouldn’t ever make it to climax with fifteen seconds of foreplay followed by Daryl throwing you up against the counter and jackhammering you hard on the edge for three minutes max. This wasn’t a porno, and you didn’t have a clit made of firecrackers.
Men like Daryl couldn’t stand the thought of you not cumming every time you had sex, though, so you sought to ease his mind on the matter during times you knew it was a physical impossibility to reach bliss. A liar you were not, but an occasional teller of euphoric fibs? Hell, you might’ve been tempted to dabble every now and then.
You adored the way he looked down at you when he finished, chocolate locks matted to his forehead and a smile shining bright on his face. He was tender and sweet, always gentle to pry you off of the sink, and he’d be watching you with admiration all the while.
Rick and Michonne’s booze-fueled pool parties had that effect on you both—always scrambling for a spare room to fuck in the second you arrived like you’d forgotten how good the other one looked dressed in swimwear.
Daryl shimmied the bottom half of your lime green bikini back up your legs and patted your rear with affection.
“I think Rick would be proud,” he said.
“I think Michonne would be pissed.”
You glanced down at the lovely little decorative towels Daryl had used as a sweat rag and made a mental note to wash those back at your place. You yelped when Daryl dropped his hand back down to your heat.
“Still sensitive?” he smiled.
“Uh huh.”
You were already trying to slide past his frame toward the bathroom door, where the sounds of the party outside were growing louder each minute. In truth, you knew that spot where Daryl’s fingers had almost grazed would have been a lot more sensitive had you actually just came, and that tell alone would have given your act away. You couldn’t have that, so you quickly pulled him in for a kiss and pushed his hands back up to your hips.
Daryl’s tongue traced the seal of your lips and parted them for a far more passionate kiss than you’d expected. You let his tongue roam anyway, but inside, you felt slightly confused as to why your boyfriend was still so…horny when he’d just blown his load a minute ago.
You moved languidly toward the door as Daryl continued to kiss you. He was touching your waist a little strangely, the more you came to think of it. Maybe frisky from the whiskey?
Your hand reached the doorknob the second his did. Daryl pulled away and let the corners of his mouth twist almost cruelly in a grin before turning the handle and nudging you out.
You shuffled a few awkward steps past the door. Daryl was hot on your heels, hand at the small of your back when his lips returned to your ear—just for a second, this time. He leaned in close, now, and murmured real low:
“I know you faked it.”
Then he pushed you forward again, only for you to trip over your own two feet trying to turn and face him.
“What?” you hissed. Playing dumb.
But if you could play dumb, Daryl was more than happy to play stupid as fuck. He ignored your outburst altogether and waved at someone behind you, pretending not to see you staring up at him with exasperation painting your face.
“Eugene! Swim trunks look great.”
Across the room, Eugene extended a lengthy ‘thank you’ and told Daryl that he, too, was looking snazzy, and you knew better than to try and pry Daryl’s attention away. Reluctantly, you turned around and made every effort not to show your present emotions on your face. In truth, you were nervous as fuck wondering what Daryl might do now that he knew you’d faked your climax.
You could try and make it up quick. Minimize the fallout.
The second Eugene departed, and it was just the two of you standing in the kitchen, you shamelessly reached for the outline of Daryl’s dick in his shorts.
Daryl swatted your hand away.
“My penis only goes where it’s appreciated,” he told you quietly, feigning that same stupid smile that signaled to everyone else who might pass by that things were fine.
They weren’t. Daryl probably hated your guts right now.
His seed was still dripping from your cunt, and you longed for the feeling of having him inside you, whole. But you got the sense that that wasn’t happening any time soon, as Daryl promptly greeted two more familiar faces and obliged you to mingle too. You faced Rosita and Abraham with a thinly veiled look of despair, and you gathered that the former picked up on it pretty fast.
“What’s up?” Rosita asked, pulling you to the side while Daryl and Abe chatted.
“I fucked up bad, like— legitimately screwed the pooch.”
“What did you do?”
You pursed your lips and felt the burn of Daryl’s glare over Rosita’s shoulder, sensing then that you’d probably be better off just keeping your mouth shut.
Hurriedly, you said under your breath,
“IfakedanorgasmandDaryl’sreallymad.”
“Daryl’s mad at what? Why?” Rosita said, shrill as ever.
You wanted to clamp your hand over her mouth, but it was too late. Daryl was quick to find your form lingering on his periphery and took your waist in one arm in a lasso-like motion. You guessed you’d be taken off to the slaughter any minute now—which was just getting chewed out by Daryl or given a half-dozen grumpy looks. You almost would’ve preferred the knife to the throat.
Confirming your worst fears, Daryl raised a beer with Abraham and suggested you all go for a swim.
That sounded like a setup if you’d ever heard one.
Perhaps overwrought with paranoia and a few too many Twisted Teas, you found your feet shuffling as slow as you could toward the thick sliding doors and Rosita at your rear asking what the hell was going on.
You made a big, fat ‘O’ with your hands and shook your head, hoping she’d understand—and Daryl wouldn’t see. It turned out neither of your wishes were to come true in that moment, and your boyfriend only pulled you closer to his side while the four of you strolled outside.
“Real mature,” he muttered.
“You’re one to talk,” you retorted.
“Could we please talk at a level most humans can hear?”
That last interjection was Eugene, sidling up to the group with his floaties already strapped to his biceps. You eyed the man, then his beer, then his bright red flotation devices, and hoped like hell Daryl wasn’t about to start playing drunk trivia now that your genius friend was plastered. Or worse yet, encourage him to swim.
“How many lies does the average woman tell in her life?”
You really needed to start keeping your hopes and dreams to yourself. You glared at Daryl.
Eugene was already devising some half-baked formula in his brain, or else retrieving another far-removed factoid that he’d learned on a game show in 2005, and presently answered Daryl’s question with a quirk of his brow.
“I…can’t say it’s a gender-dependent question, my friend. If I were to make an educated guess I’d give—”
“A million more for men,” Rosita interrupted, flashing a wry smile at Abraham, “Most men lie like they breathe.”
“Amen!” Carol called from the tiki bar. You loved and you hated Alexandria’s grown-up parties sometimes.
“Well maybe— maybe men lie more to get sex, but women lie about sex.” Daryl shot the most conspicuous look in your direction, and you’re fairly certain Rick and Michonne shared a look of, ‘Ah shit,’ simultaneously.
Inside, the two were secretly hoping they’d catch wind from the babysitter that Judith and RJ wanted to be picked up, or else learned that a horde of walkers had laid siege on one of the outer-facing walls, because they knew from experience that these fights never ended well. The last time you and Daryl ticked each other off in public there had come a very loud and very obnoxious karaoke rendition of Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Silver Springs’ sung drunkenly between the two of you, and frankly, no one at the party wanted to see a repeat of that.
You wrested your arm out of Daryl’s hold and took a seat opposite Carol at the bar. Nodding when she offered to pour you some tropical concoction with a lot of rum, then pretending not to see Sasha eye Daryl warily.
“Whiskey dick give him trouble?” she murmured to you.
“You say his brother’s name in bed?” Rosita quipped.
“First off, he’s dead,” you said, before dropping your voice to a whisper, “Second, it wasn’t the whiskey or anything, I just…couldn’t cum, so I faked it. That’s it!”
You figured if Daryl was airing out your dirty laundry for the whole group to hear, you might as well beat him to the punch when it came to your closest friends. You could tell Sasha was trying hard not to smirk.
“That’s…that’s it?” she reiterated.
“Just now,” you mumbled, “Don’t tell Rick and Michonne, but we were holed up in the bathroom an—”
“Anyway, okay, no details but you told a little lie, so what?” Sasha proceeded without a hitch.
Carol waved the margarita she was making in vehement agreement and handed it over to you. Telling you to drink, now, with her eyes as soon as she caught a glimpse of Daryl’s disgruntled expression across the way.
“Yeah, so what? You told a fib to keep his ego intact, what’s the harm?”
“I’m saying!” You pointed to her before taking a sip.
“I think honesty is the best policy,” Daryl declared out loud like he’d just discovered the Atlantic.
At his side, Eugene eyed him up and down as if to say, ‘What the fuck are we talking about?’ You surmised that probably only half the group understood what was going on between Daryl and you, but most got the gist that the two of you were beefing. Again. Carol proceeded to drain her piña colada like her life depended on it, and Abraham and Rick suddenly gained interest in something inside.
Daryl wasn’t backing down. In fact, he raised his voice.
“And if she’s willin’ ta lie once, who knows how many other times she—”
“Be fucking for real,” you rolled your eyes, “I wasn’t faking most other times, and you know it.”
“Most times? So ya did it other times?”
“Folks, I cannot say with utmost certainty that this is a healthy coping mechanism for a relationship like y—”
“Shut up, Eugene.”
You could tell just how incensed Daryl was by the color of his cheeks. In a world that almost never raised the hue above a baby pink, you were alarmed to see him turn a shade or two shy of crimson. You knew something lewd or unkind was likely to flare behind those cobalt eyes any second now.
“How many times for Spencer, then?” Daryl growled.
He knew that shit was off-limits. A happenstance situationship that started and ended long before you’d ever dated Daryl. Now he was just being mean.
“Alright, guys, how about we take a second to cool off?” Michonne was using the same voice she assumed whenever trying to talk Judith or RJ out of a cranky mood. You saw Daryl already had the insolent pout of the children down pat, that was for sure.
“Maybe if you’d asked Leah she would’ve said the same,” you spat.
Daryl abandoned his beer and moved closer to you, just narrowly checked by Sasha’s warning touch and even more persuasive gaze. He paused for a second, crinkled his nose, and seemed to be considering something a moment or two longer before finally deciding to be petty.
“At least I didn’t have to ask Leah to swallow.”
That was it. You reared back and chucked your bright pink strawberry marg directly at Daryl’s head, unleashing a string of unsavory names as you did so. Daryl easily side-stepped, and the next in line to receive the airborne drink was Eugene. Completely defenseless, per usual, and not at all prepared to be hit in the face by a plastic glass filled with syrup, liquor, and slush, the man was a sitting duck.
He shrieked the second it struck him below the eyebrow. His hand clamped over his eye, and he stumbled back a few steps.
“Eugene!” came more than one voice, including your own.
The mulleted man wailed and spun perilously on his heels, trying blindly to make a beeline for the house but ending up walking straight into the pool ahead of him. Your whole party jumped to their feet and scrambled after him.
Apart from the aid of his arm floaties, the man was completely unable to swim—and still blinking fiercely through a sheet of strawberry-flavored ice as he flailed about in the water and cried for help.
Sasha, Rosita, Michonne, and Daryl didn’t hesitate; all four dove head first into the pool to save their friend.
Two hours had passed, and you and Daryl were still in time-out—courtesy of Carol and Michonne.
Deprived of your right to drink, smoke, fight, or fuck (at least not with condoms), you and your boyfriend had been placed in indefinite non-solitary confinement sitting perched outside the hot tub with instructions to make up, or else. So far, no words had passed between the two of you, and it had just started to rain.
Daryl waved to the kitchen window, where Carol was watching you both with narrowed eyes.
“Can we come inside now?” he groaned, motioning to the storm clouds overhead.
Carol gave him one emphatic thumbs down and turned to stir her broth on the stove.
This was your group-imposed “getting along” punishment: stay outside until you make amends. You kicked your feet in the bubbling water and cursed yourself for ever thinking it was a wise idea to stroke a man’s ego and fake an orgasm in the first place.
Then you lowered yourself into the water, seeing as there was not much else to do.
“Ya tryna be human stew? Get out,” Daryl snapped.
“Great, maybe Carol can throw me in her soup and I won’t have to continue this stupid fucking conversation.” You knew the dangers of swimming in a rainstorm, but you didn’t want to give Daryl the satisfaction of knowing you’d stop for his sake. You sank deeper into the hot tub.
Daryl slid across the wet slab of rock and concrete and reached for your shoulder.
“Quit bein’ difficult.”
“Quit being pushy,” you said with an ineffectual splash in his direction. His fingertips still seared hot on your skin as he touched you just above the shoulder blade.
“Oh, was I also bein’ pushy—” Daryl cut himself short.
You looked up, curious. Still refusing to budge.
“Pushy when?”
“When you took your pretty ass outta this tub before you got struck by lightning.”
Daryl received an unamused scowl in return. When you pressed again, he bent down and took you underneath both armpits, hauling you out of the hot tub with infuriating ease.
“Or when I…wanted to have sex and you clearly didn’t.”
Ouch. You jumped back in the water with an even deeper frown.
“I still wanted to have sex, Daryl! I just couldn’t get off as quick as you.”
“So you lied.”
You hastened to the other side of the mini pool when Daryl climbed inside. Your back flattened on the rock, and your eyes shot him a critical look as if to say, ‘I ain’t coming out.’
“Technically, you never asked,” you shrugged.
Daryl scoffed and straightened his own posture on the opposite end of the hot tub, feigning amusement but likely inflamed with irritation inside.
“I touched— I rubbed your pussy to see if you were sensitive. Don’t that mean somethin’?”
“Means you didn’t ask me shit. I never said I came.” You folded your arms across your chest in defiance, but deep down, you knew that a lie by omission was still a lie. Daryl’s facial expression communicated as much as he swam in your direction.
“So you couldn’t…ask me to wait a little longer to help you finish?” Daryl approached you close enough to graze your knees, so you felt obliged to press yourself harder against the wall, “Ya know I’d eat the cum out yer pussy if I knew it’d get ya off, sweetheart.”
Indeed, you knew. You should’ve known better than to accuse him of selfishness or inadequate communication—Daryl was a generous lover, and one who was always willing to wait, whether that meant delaying his climax or putting a pause on sex altogether. You felt an unlikely shiver in the boiling hot water when your boyfriend’s frame slipped between your legs beneath the surface.
“Even if I’d finished first, ya know I’d lick ya clean and make that pretty pussy cum all over my face an’ fingers. Ya do know tha’, right?”
He wanted to hear you say it. His hands had just started to trail a slow course up your legs as you released a shaky breath and nodded your head.
“I know, baby, I just— I just like seeing how riled up and sweaty you get when you fuck me for a quickie. You always seem so…satisfied pulling out I just hate to make you get hard all over again on my account.” Your voice was quieter then, breaking off in the gentlest whimper when Daryl’s knuckles grazed your heat.
Then, with the other hand, he moved your fingers to feel how hard he was under his swim trunks.
“Thought ya knew me better’n tha’,” he tsked you softly as he rubbed your hand up and down the length of his clothed erection, “I’m always hard fer ya, honey.”
You swallowed and sighed the second you felt him throb in your hand underwater. You wanted him now.
When your fingers fumbled for the drawstring of his shorts, however, Daryl nudged your touch away. Brought his own to the bottom of the bright green bikini you were wearing and slipped a digit underneath the fabric.
“This poor little clit,” he lamented, circling just lightly enough to draw breathy mewls from your mouth.
You spread your legs even wider to allow him access. When he pulled you to his chest, you felt his heart thrumming as fast as yours was. The light drizzle of rain overhead was growing heavier by the second.
This was not the makeup session Carol or Michonne had envisioned when they’d sent the two of you off to talk. You and Daryl just happened to make amends a little differently than most—semi-publicly, sometimes.
“Can’t imagine how bad it’s been achin’ since I last fucked that pretty little hole,” Daryl continued, index and middle finger now rubbing lazy circles over the spot where he’d pried your bikini to the side.
You sat, spread eagle with your mouth ajar and your eyes on his. Oh, how he loved you like this: partly supine and looking so pathetic. His fingers worked even faster.
“Been needin’ daddy’s touch, has it?” he teased before moving his digits to your slick entrance. Then, pressing just a finger inside and feeling your walls instinctively contract, “Now tha’s a believable squeeze.”
He smiled and you realized he knew a real clench from a fake one by now. That dramatized show you’d put on for him earlier almost made you feel ashamed now, gathering just how good a proper fingerfucking felt when you actually gave your boyfriend the chance to try.
He pushed another finger inside and curled them both with expert precision. You let out a helpless moan the second he grazed your g-spot.
“Baby, I need it,” you whimpered, “I need to cum so, so badly.”
Daryl nodded as though feeling your pleasure—and pain. He worked a vicious rhythm against your cunt and let a smile spread across his lips the longer he watched you writhe and moan amidst the hot, churning waters. When your stomach started to flutter and your entrance gave a warning pulse, you didn’t even need to inform him of your impending climax; you closed your eyes and prepared for the sweet bliss in expectant silence.
That was, until, Daryl retracted his fingers and climbed out of the hot tub.
Sorely misled ecstasy withered before your eyes.
You whined. Louder than you meant to.
“Daryl!”
Your boyfriend had taken up a spot standing at the side of the hot tub, pretending to be so overcome with heat exhaustion that he just couldn’t stay in a second longer.
He wiped his brow and watched you smugly.
“You say sumn’, sugar?” he asked as he sat down on the water’s edge to plant a kiss at the top of your head.
“You’re sick,” you muttered, dodging any additional condescending smooches by scooting over. When Daryl slowly leaned down toward the water, you scowled.
Then he patted the wet slab of concrete beside him.
“Jus’ want you to cum on my tongue. C’mon.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world—clearly he couldn’t eat you out underwater, so he was just being kind to give you a place to sit while he tonguefucked you silly.
You pretended not to notice the smirk twisting at the corners of his lips as you climbed out of the hot tub and reluctantly followed his motions.
Your legs spread just a little, now perched at the edge of the sauna while Daryl sank back in the water and positioned his head perfectly with your core. A sidelong glance to the nearest window showed that Carol had disappeared from the kitchen, but you knew you would have to make this quick.
Without ceremony, you yanked a tuft of Daryl’s wet hair and guided his face even closer to your heat. Far past the point of pleasantries, you pulled your bathing suit to the side and presented yourself, bare as ever, to Daryl’s eager tongue and lips.
Your boyfriend supplied you with both in an instant, dragging his tongue up the whole length of your slit with a groan. Wanting to savor the taste, were it not for your quiet pleas for him to finish this, please, Carol could be back any minute.
Daryl lapped between your folds, happy as ever, and left a series of suctioned kisses on the spots where he knew you needed him most. Gripped your thighs in either hand, pulled your bottoms so far he almost snapped the fabric in half, and practically devoured that needy cunt.
The man was a pussy-eating prodigy, to put it mildly. He dove deep between your thighs like oxygen was the furthest thing from his mind and sucked on your clit as if it were a lifeline. Your back arched out of instinct, legs clamping on either side of his head and chest rising and falling in stuttered breaths. You moaned and felt Daryl’s own grunts join the reverberations shaking your body; for a second, you thought you were almost seeing stars.
When Daryl inserted two fingers and swirled his tongue around that sensitive nub, you were certain that moment was soon to come.
“Mmm, just like that, baby, fuck,” you breathed, rutting your hips ever slightly against his face. Daryl, soaked with your arousal and waves of scalding water, just held his place and kept licking over, and over, and over.
Your grip fastened harsher in his hair the second a pleasant coil pulled tight along your tummy. You planted your calves on either side of Daryl’s neck, braced your body to the concrete, and felt a heady bliss make its second appearance of the night.
A quiet slurp marked the sudden disconnect between Daryl’s mouth and your aching core. You almost fell off the edge of the hot tub as your mind and body both stopped devastatingly short of full climax. This time, you almost shrieked.
“DARYL!”
“Got a tongue cramp. Sorry.”
Too bad he was grinning from ear-to-ear with no trace of a muscle spasm anywhere on his face. You splashed him with a massive wave and went scrambling to your feet.
“Fuck this. I’ve got a vibrator at home.” You were already pulling your panties back in place, muttering some less-than kind words under your breath, and kicking yourself twice for ever believing Daryl was mature enough to treat this as anything other than a game.
“Hey! Baby, wait!” Daryl called after you. Then he was getting up and getting out too.
“You blame me for fucking around, and you— you go and pull some shit like this?!”
You waved a silent, dismissive hand when Daryl started after you, trailing hot on your heels with a look that almost would’ve seemed apologetic had he not been fighting a laugh the entire time.
When his hands landed on your shoulders from behind, you moved to shrug him off and told him, with a finger supplanting your words, to get fucked. You groaned internally when Daryl pulled you in for a tight embrace.
“It’s called edging, sweetheart,” he hummed in your ear.
“It’s called being an asshole and shutting my orgasms down on purpose.” You wriggled to free yourself from his arms but found the man behind you unwilling to cooperate; in fact, the more you struggled, the more snug his grasp got. You battled against his far superior strength no longer than a minute or two before Daryl plucked you right off your feet and into a bridal hold.
“What do we say when we really wanna cum?” he asked, almost patronizing. Then, as if to put a finer point on it, he ambled toward the edge of the pool and swayed your soft, soaking frame over it.
“You’re fucking crazy!” you hissed, still wrestling against his chest.
You sensed that might not have been the wisest choice of words given your current predicament, but Daryl didn’t seem fazed in the slightest.
“Did I hear a ‘please’ in there?” he asked, rocking you back and forth over the water’s edge.
“Please put me down.” Your voice was low and importunate, eyes warning him just the same.
“O-kay.”
And down you went. Into the pool. Your boyfriend still cradling you in his arms while you thrashed and splashed and called him every profane name in the book.
You’d just swept the wet mass of hair from your forehead when Daryl pinned you to the wall. Your back was flush to his chest, and his breath was hot on your ear.
“Promise y’ain’t gonna fake it this time?” Daryl murmured through gritted teeth, one hand yanking your swimsuit bottoms to the side and the other pulling his own down his hips.
You gripped the side of the pool and cast a quick look to the kitchen. Carol was nowhere in sight, but who knew how much longer she—and everyone else—would be gone? You bit your lip when Daryl dragged the head of his cock between your legs.
“We can’t do this, Dar—”
“I said, are you gonna fake it? Pretty simple question.”
Your folds had already parted with his length in between them, hole pleading for his entry when all he had done was rut his hips in place and tease your slit. You pressed your ass right into him and tried hard not to whine as you sensed your cover could be blown at any moment. Daryl nipped at the skin behind your ear and repeated his question, this time enveloping your frame with his when he bent you over the side of the pool.
Your eyes flickered to the warm glow of the kitchen, and you felt the rain come down even harder—your vision, with the distance and the downpour, was almost totally obscured.
Fuck it.
“Promise I won’t— I swear.” Your voice now scarcely above a whisper.
That seemed to satisfy Daryl well enough. No more than a second later, he was plowing inside you, gripping your hip for support and your hand in his own for what seemed to be encouragement of sorts. You squeezed his fingers back as soon as the first influx of pleasure rolled through you.
“Quiet, quiet for me, baby,” Daryl warned close to your ear, gaze scanning the house for any new onlookers, “Jus’ stay. fuckin’. quiet.”
He wasted no time railing you from behind—an impressive feat for a man standing halfway underwater—and simultaneously kept a lookout for your friends inside. Before him, you’d folded like a lawn chair over the wet concrete, yielding to each thrust like you were born for this position and made to take his cock. Then your walls clenched around him, whimpers came loud and fast, and the rain beat a shrill cadence all around.
Daryl dropped a hand to your clit and smiled the second you whined and almost bucked him off. Finally, that sweet sensitivity was back.
He knew from two false starts and more hard edging than you ever would have liked to endure, you wouldn’t last long. You felt a pressure on your neck bringing you up to his chest and those same, ardent lips almost charring your skin when they pressed above your ear:
“Who’s a good girl?”
Another sharp thrust in your cunt.
“I am,” you cried, clawing at his wrist the second his fingers started tightening around your throat. Almost unable to bear it, but loving it all the same.
“Gonna be honest with daddy ‘bout those orgasms?” Daryl chided, “Make a mess of daddy’s cock like yer s’posed’a?”
You nodded as best you could with your throat trapped in his hold and your lips damn near turning blue the second he got to kissing them. Your back arched into his chest, and your body convulsed with pleasure the deeper he went. Daryl loved the way you watched him as he did.
That was what he’d missed. That was what he knew you couldn’t muster in your piss-poor performances of late, what had tipped him off to the truth of your euphoric state with times like today. This was what he needed to see every time he fucked you from now on—if he had to spend a lifetime or two trying to get you there, so be it.
Daryl caught your lips in a long, heated kiss before bottoming out inside you. The sharp nudge to your insides and the brush against your most delicate spot was more than enough to push you over the edge.
Bliss broke through your body like a bat out of hell, and your moans rang loud in Daryl’s mouth as he fucked you through it. And, sadistic motherfucker that he was, he actually smiled when your teeth sank through his lip and drew blood from the surface.
All he cared was that you came, no bullshit this time.
As a metallic tang and an ecstatic trance washed over you, your body went limp in Daryl’s arms. He pulled out, still hard, and rubbed a hand over your ass underwater.
You could feel him beaming with pride right behind you.
But, just when he moved to turn you around, a sight in the bushes sent your heart in your throat. One dark patch of foliage shook with unusual force a few yards away, and you heard some sticks break as someone, shielded by leaves, appeared to lose their balance.
Daryl’s grip on you locked, then tightened, then dropped altogether when a clumsy form came tumbling out.
“EUGENE!”
#daryl dixon#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon one shot#daryl dixon imagine#daryl x reader#the walking dead#twd daryl#twd fanfiction#twd imagine#smut
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Rick Grimes x reader - so perfect
Hello👋👋 Rick fluff where he comes home and just sees reader hanging out with the kids. And he just stops and watches them, thinking how lucky he is to have her. Please and thank you. Love your work btw❤❤❤. - @hoodiepandaninja16 💜
Holding Judith in your arms, you looked at Carl as he threw a tennis ball against the side of the house, catching it in his hand to throw it again.
“Carl?”
He looked over, stopping what he was doing.
“If you keep throwing that at all wall, you’re gonna break a hole in it eventually.”
He chuckled a little, looking at the tennis ball.
“Sorry, guess I got lost thinking.”
“Hey, not me you need to be sorry too, that poor house has been getting beat on for at least an hour.”
He laughed again, walking over to you, letting you place a hand on his head, and he rested his head on your shoulder.
“What’s going on?” You asked quietly.
He sighed a little bit, offering you nothing more than just a shrug.
“I don’t know, I guess I’m just thinking about a lot of stuff you know? Sometimes it’s hard not to when it’s all you can do.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean. Do you want to talk about it?”
“Nah.”
You nodded, letting him move away from you and over to the front of the house where he sat down, so you did the same.
Placing Judith on the porch next to you, and Carl handed her his tennis ball.
“That’s fine, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. But if you do you know I’ll listen.”
“Thanks (Y/N).”
You smiled at him, and you leant back on your hands, looking at the skies that were threatening to downpour at any moment.
It was still sunny, but the clouds were rolling in quickly, and given the thunder that was in the distance it would be here soon.
“Do you think dad will make it back before the storm hits?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure.”
“You really don’t lie don’t you? Could’ve at least tried to lie for me.” Carl mocked.
You laughed a little, grinning down at him.
“Nope, what’s the point. The truth will come out eventually, whether you want it to or not, by lying your just wasting your own time.”
“Do you think he’ll be alright?”
“Yeah, I do.”
Carl nodded his head, he believed you.
Judith rolled the ball and you caught it before it went down the steps, rolled it gently back over to you and she giggled.
She pushed it back, so you once again pushed it back.
“Can you go through my bag and find my deck of cards?” You asked.
“Yeah, why?” Carl asked back.
“We’re gonna be stuck inside soon, May as well find some way to pass the time.”
You did try to keep them outside for as long as possible, but when it started to rain you decided to bring them inside.
Carl was insistent that he wanted to wait by the gate, but you wouldn’t let him.
So, you all sat on the floor of the living room, music coming from the stereo that you had put on.
Judith sat in your lap, and you tried teaching Carl how to play poker.
“Seriously, how is this in any way helpful?”
“It’s not, it’s just fun as hell.”
He grinned a little at you.
“Dad’s gonna hate you trying to teach me this, you know that right?”
“I could teach you how to throw them.”
“Like throwing stars?”
You nodded and he immediately sat up.
“Hell yes.”
“Hey, language. I’m an adult you’re not, your dad will kick my ass if he finds out.”
“Our secret?” Carl grinned.
You hummed, thinking for a moment as you studied with narrowed eyes.
“I used to cheat at poker in Las Vegas and was was banned from returning.”
“What?”
“You tell your dad that I’ll tell him you swear when he’s not around.”
You held your hand out and Carl grinned, shaking your hand.
“Deal.”
You let go, and you picked up one of the play cards, looking at the apple you had set on the table not long before.
Aiming, you threw the card, it curved a little in the air but lodged itself into the apple.
“Holy shit…”
“Hey! Just because I said I wouldn’t tell doesn’t mean you can keep doing it!”
“Show me again.”
While Judith slept on the couch you taught Carl some of the tricks of the trade you had learnt over time.
Carl was pretty quick with picking some of them up, others not so much, but the card throwing was his new favourite.
You had ran out of apples to throw them at, so you went to throwing them into his hat instead.
“Where did you learn this?”
“I spent a lot of time in Vegas kid, you pick up a lot of things in a place like that.”
“Did you have a gambling problem or something?”
You rolled your eyes.
“No, I was a professional gambler. Well, fraudster I guess, we worked as a team, taking casinos for all they were worth, using all the tricks, same with street hustling.”
“So, just a petty criminal then.”
“Ouch, petty? I’ll have you know I was wanted in over half the states for this shit.”
“And… you’re with my dad, who’s a cop?”
“Yeah that crap doesn’t matter now, what’s he gonna do, arrest me?”
“Yeah you’ve got a point.”
You handed him a couple more cards, looking to Edith as she moved.
Getting up, you held your arms out to her and picked her up, holding her in one arm as you slapped the card Carl threw back at him.
“I’m going to feed her, you want anything?”
“Yeah, I’ll help.”
You guys made dinner, setting a plate aside for Rick, just in case he came back that night.
While Carl spent time with his sister you washed up and made your way back inside to see him dancing around the living room with her.
“You call that dancing?”
You laughed a little, and you swept Judith into your arms.
“First, it’s always gentlemanly to bow.”
You did a small bow, and he did the same thing, and then you held your palm out to him.
“Put your palm on mine.”
He did, and you began teaching him the steps to a simple dance you had learned a long time ago.
Because of the thunder, you didn’t hear the door opening, and Rick stood against doorway, crossing his arms as he watched the tree of you.
Judith was giggling each time you turned around.
“Where did you learn to dance like this?”
“Would you believe me if I told you that I actually did drama when I was your age? Specialised in Shakespeare.”
“So… like a million years ago?”
“Ouch, okay, you know what Carl Grimes, I thought we were friends, but we’re not.”
He laughed, and you heard a laugh from behind you.
Both of you turned over and he walked over to his dad.
You walked over, handing Rick his daughter back and you smiled at him, gesturing to the kitchen.
“Food ready for you, just need to heat it up.”
“Thanks, I’ll get her to bed then I will.”
“I’ll heat it, you do what you have to do.” You smiled.
Rick went upstairs with Carl, and you went into the kitchen to heat up his dinner for him.
While he was up there he grabbed a shower, changing into some fresh clothes while you were setting his plate on the table.
He came back downstairs, and you were cleaning the kitchen, humming a little to yourself.
He sat down, his chin resting on his hand as he just watched you.
This whole time since the prison you had been with him, you had helped him, supported him, never questioning any of the choices he made.
You had complete faith in him, and here you were, looking after his children for him even though you didn’t have too.
After everything he had done, Rick wasn’t sure how he still had somebody like you.
He had no clue what he did to even deserve somebody like you.
Yet here you were, standing right in front of him, as if the whole world was perfect, and in that moment he could have sworn it was.
“Teach me that dance.”
You turned around, looking at him, then the food he hadn’t touched.
“Eat, then asked again.”
He chuckled, quickly eating his dinner, washing up after himself and he walked into the living room where you were sat.
“Now will you teach me the dance?”
You smiled, getting up.
“First, the gentleman thing to do is bow.”
You bowed, snd he copied you.
You held up your hand, and he placed his palm over yours.
Whatever move you made he did the same thing, his eyes locked with yours as you both slowly danced.
This was it, this was perfect, his eyes focused on yours, everything else seeming nothing but background noise.
Rick slowly moved his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, and he smiled softly, warm eyes focused on yours.
He held a nervous breath as he watched you, and you smiled softly back, copying him
#the walking dead#the walking dead x reader#the walking dead x you#the walking dead x y/n#the walking dead imagine#twd#twd x reader#twd x you#twd x y/n#twd imagine#Rick grimes#rick grimes x reader#rick grimes x you#rick grimes x y/n#rick grimes imagine
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