#wonders with writella
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Thinking about Rick and slightly innocent, touch starved, virgin, fem!reader— ♡
Just smut this time, 18+, mdni, wc: 1.8k.
“I usually just touch myself at the top,” you explain, verbalizing your actions as you rub your clit with your middle finger, your pointer and ring brushing up against either side of your lips. You’re breathless, already panting. Doing this in front of him was too much. You just couldn’t believe this was happening, that he was here watching, enjoying. “Barely even put my fingers in- I get nervous- never feels good.”
“Never?” There’s a bit of surprise in Rick’s voice, but the grin he’s hiding loves every second of you showing him how much you need something- something bigger, something or someone like him and his fingers— his cock.
You pout with a hmph, “No,” you whine, your eyes trailing desperately. “They feel like nothing when I do it. And I don’t know how to make it feel good.”
Your actions, your words, it makes his tongue peek out of the side of his mouth. It’s only just a little, but a tiny bit drool is at the edge, almost rolling down and onto his chin. He licks it away before it falls.
His eyes are dark and lustful, dazed with the sight of you in only a shirt, underwear discarded, rubbing your puffy, wet pussy so fast right in front of him. He had been talking to Daryl outside the house, came up to get you for dinner at his, but then he caught you. He didn’t mean to, but the door was just a crack open: with one eye he could see your legs dangling off the bed, nose and eyes scrunched so tightly as your fingers played with yourself, whispering his name. That’s what set him off, the sweet little “Rick… Rick, Rick,” pants that came out of your mouth. That’s what made him come in without knocking. He told you not to stop.
And now, he stands right in front of your bed. Any closer and he’d be in between your legs. He can see you staring down every inch of him, eyes so wide, hopeful yet hopeless. You’re pathetically whimpering and whining at his own— those sparkly blue and wandering ones. He’s just as invested in the sight as you are.
You look at his pink parted lips and his tongue you want so badly in your mouth, and lower too, so much lower. You see his slick, curly hair, and that scruffy beard— you wouldn’t even care if it would make your sensitive lips burn down there. You want it. So bad. Your eyes go down further, seeing the way his hands are placed low at his hips, his groin jutted forward… Fuck. You need to see what’s underneath.
You rub your clit faster with two fingers now, biting on your bottom lip, looking at his fat bulge and wondering if he’s just getting hard or if it’s always looked big like that. It makes you feel like this one of your daydreams… you don’t know if your mind is enlarging it, but wow it looks good. You’d honestly sit on him right there, jeans and all with your bare pussy. Who cares if he’s been working all day, dealing with God knows what outside these walls. You’ll take anything. You bet even the littlest bit of something from him probably feels better than when you’re alone doing this anyway. You were tired of it, you wanted to be touched; you wanted to be fucked— fucked by Rick Grimes.
Rick finally sits on the bed. His face closer to you now as he asks, “You’ve ever made yourself cum, sweetheart?”
You're hesitant to answer but you shake your head, shy and slow. You feel embarrassed.
A chronic overthinker you were sometimes, you could never be in the moment and finally get yourself over the edge. Thinking about Rick always led to thinking about how you shouldn’t be doing it. He was the leader of your group, he had a daughter and a son, ones that you were far older than, but just enough to not possibly be their mother… at least not the eldest, anyway. This was wrong, but there he was: watching, staring, gazing. It only made you more and more wet, you almost couldn’t breathe.
“Poor baby,” Rick drawls and you whimper at the phrase.
He decides to relieve you, but only just a little bit by brushing his hand on your leg, stroking your thigh as he finally sits down next to you. It makes you gasp as you continue to pleasure yourself. Reaching lower to collect wetness to put over your clit. Your back arches at the feeling of him.
The sight makes him grin, laughing endearingly. Just that— just his hand, not even on your pussy and you’re already reeling.
“Such a pretty little thing, and no one’s ever made you feel good…? Can’t even do it to yourself either?” He tisks at the thought. “It’s a shame, honestly.”
All you do is whine. You want him to do it but you’re too scared to ask. You want him to want to do it, without asking, go all in and make you his. Why won’t he? It makes your moan, mix with a groan as you think about it.
You look up as his hand moves higher to your hip and his name comes out all desperate and needy as you plead, “Rick-”
“Yes?”
“Please.”
He ignores you. “Put a finger inside yourself. Let’s try again, okay? How about that?”
You whine his name again, but you still do as he says. Your hand trails lower, inserting your middle finger into your wet hole.
“Start pumping… and how ‘bout this time you try to curl your finger upward after you go in, hm?” You try, humming in response to his voice and his hand moving back to your leg, softly rubbing up and down your thigh as he watches you.
He notices your breath hitching. “Good girl,” he coos, “add another.”
You attempt to pump yourself faster now with the two fingers inside of you, looking up at him. Your pussy twitches and you jut upwards at the sight of him licking his lips. “Just pretend it’s me,” he tells you, “And don’t stop. I wouldn’t.”
His hand rests back on your hip, fingers daring to reach your mound as they slide slowly, but he’s hesitating. He wants you to do it all by yourself, but he sees your face, sees what just his voice and his watching does to you. You were always a good listener, a team player, never skipped on doing your part when he asked it of you, but this, this new power he had over you? It was something else. He can’t help but want to see what happens when he gives you just a little more.
His fingers now lightly ghost over your lips and your eyes implore. Your gasp is shaky. You’re almost holding your breath waiting for the full press but… he doesn’t do it yet.
He’s being a fucking tease.
The cockiness is evident in his voice when he asks, “Want me to?”
“Yes,” you moan, loud and instantly. It’s pitiful, you’re a mess and you want him so bad you couldn’t help it, but the beg worked. Right after, he starts rubbing harsh circles into your clit, making you vibrate.
“Oh- ohmygod, Rick.” You try to keep pumping yourself but it becomes hard. You’ve dreamed about his hands, right there on your most intimate parts, making you feel good and showing you how it’s supposed to really feel. And finally. He’s doing it. His rough fingertips felt like heaven.
Your own fingers stutter. His hand and yours are just too much for you, especially because of how deep and fast he’s rubbing against your skin and bone. “Rick, please,” you want him to go lower, take over, and he notices how your fingers slow.
“No,” he warns. “Keep goin’.” His voice is stern, stopping you before you do, he takes your hand and helps you pump your fingers into yourself before letting go. “You’re doing that yourself. Go faster.”
Your cheek falls to the opposite side of the bed, whimpering sadly at his words, but you continue.
“You got it,” he encourages. “Put another finger in.”
“Another?” Your voice incredulous as you ask.
“Gotta train yourself with your fingers before you get mine.” He pauses. “And before you can get up to my dick… How do you think it’s gonna fit if we don’t open you up?”
You let out a moan, it’s the kind that you had only heard on tv in the past. Just the sheer thought of him insinuating that soon he would put himself inside of you sends you spiraling. You add a third finger, it feels tight, but good, especially with him there.
“There you go,” he says, stretching out the syllables. He feels his jeans tighten further as he watches you.
And you only get wetter. The squelching sounds from below are nothing you’ve ever heard from yourself before. Your pussy shakes and sucks your fingers below with Rick rubbing and pinching your clit at the top. You speak between pants, moaning again, “Rick… Rick, its too much.” You’re trying to keep up your pace but you feel your energy withering again. You close your eyes.
“That means you’re making yourself cum soon. Keep going.”
“It hurts, I can’t do it!”
“You can do it,” he nods, “and if you don’t… I’ll just leave you here.”
A quick, “No!” and a string of “mmms” come out as you whine. You don’t want him to go, so you try, you keep up.
Rick lets go of your clit and it makes you gasp sadly at the loss, but he’s pushing up your shirt, exposing your breast. He takes one hand to rub your clit again and another to roll one of your nipples. “This is the only extra help you get,” he tells you. “Now are you going to cum for me?”
You nod, “Yes, yes,” you chant, “I can do it for you, Rick.”
“Show me.”
You continue to pump fast, curling your fingers as he suggested before. You find a spongy part that makes you feel extra tingling in your lower stomach and you keep trying to push up against it with each pump of your fingers. You decide to open your eyes again to watch Rick as his eyes trail between your breasts to below, you choose to focus the way your fingers look as they go in and out of you and how his hand rubs and shakes you at the top. Indescribable noises come out at the sight. “I’m losing it,” you tell him.
“Just keep goin’,” he tells you. “See it through.”
You start panting in between your stringy moans, it’s breathy and hurried and long. You force yourself to not stop. “I’m gonna cum, Rick. I’m gonna make myself cum!”
“I know, sweetheart. I know you can. Be a good girl for me, you got it.”
And then you do. The butterflies spring. You continue to pump as you ride your high and then it’s done. You came.
Rick smiles, licking his fingers filled with your wetness. He stands up, knees making their way between your own that lay on the bed as he starts undoing his belt. As he drops his pants and his boxers you see his cock spring up. It’s glossy at the tip and although you haven’t seen many, you’re completely sure it’s longer than most.
But it gets you scared. There’s worry in your eyes. Your lip quivers despite the drool that comes out on the side. How’s it gonna fit?
“You ready?” He asks.
“But I thought you said your fingers first.”
He kisses your lips, fingers caressing your cheek as he whispers, “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll go slow.”
Then he pushes himself in. Right to the hilt.
He didn’t go slow.
#rick grimes x reader#rick grimes smut#rick grimes x fem!reader#rick grimes imagine#rick grimes fic#rick grimes x reader smut#rick grimes fanfiction#rick grimes x you#rick grimes x female reader#rick grimes x y/n smut#rick grimes x y/n#the walking dead smut#twd smut#the walking dead fanfiction#twd fanfiction#wonders with writella#wonders with rick
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I just wanted to announce a few things...
For one: I'M BACK!!!! I mean I was slightly active but I rarely interacted with my moots, I miss you guys.
Two: I would like to say that I miss all my wives now let's make another list about my wives since Valentine's day was a few days ago and I didn't get to do this.
@dollyfl1rt : I love her so much, she is so cute and I was so sad when her first account got terminated, I thought I lost her forever. I was gonna cry. She's so sweet and a very open and down to earth person. She's someone you can get along with and is so kind. She is someone I feel like I could always talk to about literally anything and I wish her nothing but the best in life. She's amazing. I love you and Happy Late Valentines Day!❤️
@dustbunniess : I love her because she's funny, amazing, very peaceful and just so cute! I love how we have the same interests and can talk whenever, she's obvi a very busy woman but she's someone I look up to and someone I adore very much so Happy late Valentines day baby ;)💕
@sinsandsweetness : My first wife. I love her because she's number one and she's so wise and well spoken. She cares about the people in her life and she reminds me of the goddess Athena smm because she's so wise and just and incredibly smart and wonderful person. I love her with all my heart so as well Happy Late Valentines day babe💋
@liliesdiary : Straight up i'm gonna say it, SHE REMINDS ME OF APHRODITE!!!! Like she's so cute and her aesthetic is so cute and adorable! I love her so much even though I haven't talked to her in so long, she's so sweet and I miss talking to her, I hope everything is good and well for her. I love you my little daughter of aphrodite🎀 Happy Late Valentines Day!
@cherryredstars : This is my little gossip bestie! We literally gossip so much! She's amazing and her fics are just as amazing and she's also so well spoken and adorable. She reminds me of a golden retriever but yet a sophisticated black cat. She's so sweet and an incredible person overall! I wish her nothing but the best in life, and someone better love her just as much as I do. Happy late valentines day baby!💝
@writella : THIS IS MOTHER RIGHT HERE AND I LOVE HER! She is so kind and fun to talk to and I really enjoy talking to her and getting praise from her cuz yk, it's mother were talking about here. I love her and miss her! have not talked to her in a while so I hope she's ok, I love you and Happy Late Valentine's day babes!❣️
@hutchersonsgurl : THIS IS TWINN RIGHT HERE! I LOVE THIS GIRL SMM CUZ SHE'S SOOO FUNNY AND ENERGETIC! I love how we relate to the same things and I love how she is so cool and fun! Love you and Happy Late Valentines day twinn!💜
@luvrxbunny : I love her, we haven't talked in a while but she's just so fun and cool. I feel for her when she has sad daysd and goes through a lot of hard times but I hope she gets through it and I love her so much I hope she feels better and can finally be happy! I love you and Happy Late Valentines Day pretty girl!❤️🩹❤️
Saved the best for last... @versatilehater I LOVE THIS GIRL WITH EVERYTHING IN ME EVERY CELL, EVERY FIBER, EVERY ORGANISM AND FUNCTIONING VESSEL! She is my love and my best friend! I love her like no other and I love how she treats me, she is so cute and so sweet and I love her the absolute most! She's so kind and funny and freaky (my favourite part) Shes so amazing and I love her. HAPPY VALENTINES DAY MAMA!💓💞💖
I LOVE YOU ALL! HAPPY LATE VALENTINES DAY TO THOSE WHO DIDN'T HAVE ONE! HAPPY LATE VALENTINE'S DAY TO ALL THE LADIES THAT WERE ALONE!
❤️
XOXO, Londyn<333
#dollyfl1rt<333#dustbunniess<333#cherryredstars<33#luvrxbunny<3#hutchersonsgurl<33#writella<33#liliesdiary<33#sinsandsweeetness<3#versatilehater<33
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7 with Luke please
TITLE: Uniform troubles (Luke Patterson x reader) [Marching Band AU]
✌🏻Masterlist Taglist, Requests, and Works in progress!
Please check bio to see if requests are open before sending any in!
Request: 7 with Luke please (Marching Band au)
Prompt/summary: Luke really likes to bother the drum major in the marching band.
Word Count: 1,219
Authors note: I KNOW LUKE PLAYS GUITAR NOT DRUMS BUT HE GIVES ME CENTER SNARE PERCUSSION VIBES!!!! Also I didn’t really know where i was going with this so sorry if the plot seems weird, I was writing in between my online classes today
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Some people say all drum majors have an ego.
I’d truly like to think I don’t, but I would be lying if I said I was always humble on my podium above the band.
It truly is a rush, having everyone stare at and rely on you to lead them in the right direction. I couldn’t do it all on my own of course, my section leaders are a big help in keeping everything in order. My band director handles things that are too big for me.
I never had any problems with section leaders. Well, except for a few.
Reggie Peters and Luke Patterson.
Both high brass and percussion section leaders.
AKA dumb and dumber to the rest of the band.
“(Y/n)!”
I ran into the uniform room to see the youngest member of the percussion stuck inside a drum case while Luke and Reggie frantically try to unlatch the case.
“It’s stuck!”
I set to work on the other latches, “What the hell happened?”
“I don’t know!” he says, “He asked to be put in there!”
I rolled my eyes, finally after a few minutes of hitting at the rusted latches on the old drum case the boy finally popped his head out and wriggled the rest of his body to freedom.
“I swear Patterson if someone gets stuck in another case you’re on your own.”
His eyes widened, “Don’t tell Mr. Lockmore.”
“I’m not that cruel, just make sure it doesn’t happen again. You too Peters,” I said.
Game days brought a different kind of hectic. Everyone running around trying to find uniforms, instruments, and equipment made it to where you couldn’t take more than a few steps without running into someone.
Color guard always got ready during forth block. They took the most time due to having to curl and style hair as well as apply the show makeup they chose for this years theme.
After they cleared out of their room I would begin my process of getting ready. My hair took the most time so I did that first after putting my uniform on.
BLAM!
The door burst open causing my to drop my curling iron.
“Fuck!” I shouted as the iron hit my thigh.
“I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”
I saw Luke trying to zip up the back of his uniform, “I’m fine. What’s wrong?”
“Everyone’s lining up, can you zip me?”
I sighed before carefully zipping up the back and adjusting the rest of the uniform, “You really need to start actually folding this.”
“I always have to load up the percussion equipment.”
“Ah,” I said, I sighed, “Well hand it to me tonight and I’ll put the uniform up.”
“Really?” he said, his eyes lighting up and i giggled lightly.
“Sure.”
“You’re the best (Y/n)!” he shouted as he ran back to the percussion cabinet to grab his snare.
The schools fight song played loudly over the screaming fans. Everyone wore wide smiles as we filed out of the bleachers and back into the band room. After loading up my podium onto the band trailer for the competition the next day, I slowly walked back to the school. Most students had already left by the time I got there.
I saw Luke struggling to tell his section what to do and fiddle with folding his uniform.
“Give it here.”
He turned with a wide smile and handed me the rest of it, it took me a second to realize he was shirtless and my face started to turn hot.
He slipped a cut band tee over his head and started lifting the drum cases into their storage area.
I folded the suit carefully before placing it in the bang and hanging it up on the rack under his name.
“You really have it bad for him,” I heard from behind me.
Alex Mercer, the color guard captain, gave me a smirk and patted me on the shoulder, “Don’t worry, half the band has a bet going on when you two will get together.”
“What?” I squeaked, my face growing hot again.
“Don’t worry about it. See you tomorrow!”
I went into the color guard room to get ready to go home. I let my hair down from it’s decorative style with a sigh of relief.
I reached behind me to unzip the back of my uniform, I fumbled for it with my fingers for a few moments. Sighing, I stood up to try and get a better reach.
“Need some help?”
I jumped at the sudden sound, “You scared me, and yeah can you get it for me?”
He brushed a few strands out of the way, his fingertips against my neck caused goosebumps to raise on my skin. I felt the cold air against my back and for a second I was worried he saw my bra.
Thank god I always wear a tank top underneath.
“Thanks,” I said, it was almost a whisper.
“I didn’t see your parents, do you have a ride home?” he asked.
“Ugh,” I said, my arms held the uniform up against my chest so it wouldn’t fall down.
He noticed my discomfort, “Oh I’ll-”
“Yeah can you-”
“Turn around,” we both said at the same time. He gave me a shy smile and I giggled.
He turned so his back was facing me.
I slipped the uniform off and grabbed my comfy clothes to change. The leggings and baggy sweatshirt felt great after a long night in the tight uniform and cold air.
“So, do you need a ride?” Luke asked again.
“I was gonna wait till my mom got off at midnight, but if you’re offering I’ll take it.”
I went to move past him but just as I did he turned causing my to crash into his chest. My hands caught on his arms that had wrapped around me
“Sorry!” he said.
I giggled.
“I always seem to be causing you trouble, don’t I?”
I smiled and pulled back, my hands still lightly on his arms, “Not any more trouble than I can handle.”
“Oh, so miss preppy drum major likes trouble?” he smirked.
“Preppy? Who calls me preppy?” I tried to play off my blush as confidence.
He giggles, “No one except me. But I don’t think preppy is the right word.”
“What is the right word?”
“Pretty-” he says quickly before realizing what he said. His eyes go wide.
“You think I’m pretty?”
“I- I’ve always thought you were pretty. I was glad when you became drum major cause it gave me an excuse to stare at you...”
I smile and duck my head, again to hide the blush forming.
His hand slowly lifts my chin up and his palm goes to my cheek.
My eyes must’ve been filled with shock or nervousness because his next question confuses me, “Is this okay?”
“More than okay.”
His face got within an inch of mine and I really, really, hoped he couldn’t hear my heart racing.
My phone buzzes.
“Sorry,” I wince but giggle, “Well I guess I really do need that ride, my mom won’t be coming home till late.”
Luke stares at me.
“Luke?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, we should get going.”
I lean forward and place a light kiss on his cheek before rushing out to his car.
Luke whispers to himself, “I owe Alex twenty bucks...”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
*If you signed up for my taglist but don’t see your name please message me!
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#julie and the phantoms#jatp#julie and the phantoms imagine#jatp imagine#jatp x reader#luke patterson#luke patterson imagine#jatp luke#luke patterson x reader#jatp luke x reader#alex mercer#reggie peters#julie molina#julie and the phantoms au
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hi! s10 is so fun so enjoy it when you start it! can i request a daryl smut of any kind?
Before We Leave
Synopsis: Here’s one about you sitting all sweet on Daryl’s lap because I have not stopped thinking about him holding you in his arms and giving you all the kisses after reading this headcanon! ♡
Details: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader, set during the period between seasons 8-9, kissing, smut—grinding, thigh riding, fingering, making a mess when you have places to go (such sillies). Mostly proofread. Feel free to give feedback!
A/N: It’s been a minute, guys, I know :( and to ava, so sorry for the wait ♡ I hope you like this and I can’t wait to get to season 10 too!! And know that I definitely still have your initial request in mind for later on!!
First, you noticed his hair: ever so endearingly disheveled, the waves falling so effortlessly as they did in their shaggy way; and then you noticed his skin— it shined. Normally, this would have been because of work and sweat from the late spring heat, but he was clean, he had showered today. He even changed his clothes, and surprisingly, his light beard was trimmed, his face was washed too– it illuminated with his small lazy smile that appeared as you came through the door. He looked so nice and ready to go. Your handsome man. He was waiting for you.
He wore a dark blue long-sleeve, the buttons at the start undone, exposing the top of his chest as he always preferred. And his sleeves, only just big enough to be slightly loose around his arms; they were rolled up at the forearms. It looked good. Though the better fit was his equally loose vest that was layered on top. Seeing it reminded you of how much you missed it. It took him so long to get it back from Dwight. It’s only now that you’re realizing how it fits again, how well it suits him. It’s not that he needed it of course, but you did love how it completed every outfit he wore, making it just so him.
In fact, everything about him was so, so—
“Hey,” he calls to you, his voice itself a finger snap to your attention, “you alright there?”
“Yeah,” you respond, meeting his eyes as you pathetically try to joke, “Just can’t think of the last time I actually saw you sit. We’re always… fighting or doing something aren’t we?”
“Mmhm.” He smiles inwardly. Your staring was nothing short of obvious, and you both know it: You were leaning against the door frame, eyes wide and lingering, trailing over him as he sat on your desk chair. But to him it was sweet, honestly. Almost humorous to see. It was nice to see you smile over nothing other than looking at dumb old him, or at least that's what he assumes of himself. He should know better by now than to think like that, but it's still just his way sometimes. You were in love with him though, and he loved you; and you liked looking at his dumb old face, and he knew that. That's why he doesn’t mind your gazing. That’s why he says, “C’mon,” patting his lap, knowing you wanted to come closer; his eyes catching how much yours went lower and lower, changing from innocent peerings to just a little something else, something more.
You’re hesitant at his invitation, but smiling like a kid. It's true you couldn’t help how good his thighs looked and how good the fingers that splayed over them were— rough and thick— their feeling on your skin taking you back to the past— but his noticing… Well, it just makes you blush. It makes you take slow footsteps, one in front of the other as you come closer to him, bashful and snickering. Once you’re near enough he holds you by the hips and you skip to meet his movements towards him. He turns your backside to him on the right side of the chair and sits you down, horizontal from his forward figure.
“Silly,” he calls you, flicking your nose as he taunts. It’s gentle and harmless even in his typical, slightly grumbled tone.
You wrap your arms around his shoulders, your wrists and hands curling at his neck, your side pressed into him. He feels bigger when you’re in his arms like this. As if he can comfort you or sheild you from anyone or anything— and you know he could. So safe is what you feel with him; the sigh you let out proves it. The fighting may have finished almost a year ago now, but moments like this are truly what feels like peace. And with that, your mind drifts backwards again. Realizing how you don’t remember the last time you’ve sat like this. With him. Just holding you.
One of his hands holds your thigh while the other grounds you by the lower waist, nearing your hip. You turn your face to his, raising a hand, parting some of the hair in front of his forehead, holding his jaw and you kiss him. You put your tongue between his lips. It’s quick but tender. There is a tiny trail of spit between you two as you let go. Tilting your head, you look at him with an already happy and dazed little smile. You don’t remember the last time you got a good look at him either. And you’re not talking about any of the times you’ve looked at him while simply talking or standing by him, that was almost all the time; but for so long standing next to each other was to cover one another in a fight, kill a walker, but this— this was simply because you wanted to, because he was yours, and you loved him, and you could.
He goes in to meet your lips first this time, holding you by the neck and jaw with one hand, and the other is at your back making you lean in closer. You give in to him, let him take the lead. Your feet curl under the chair and you smile into his indefinite kisses. It makes you accidentally nip at his lower lip which turns into him intentionally biting your lip thereafter. It’s just a bit harder, but he might have done it a tad more sharply than he intended.
“Ow,” you hiss, hushed and soft between breaths, but he’s already soothing the area at the corner there, giving you a lick and little pecks before returning to what he was doing before: kissing you and kissing you.
“You’re fine,” he tells you dryly in between.
Your hands lowers to his chest, feeling his collarbones, then down to his heart. Your fingers rest on the exposed skin there, then trailing lower, ghosting over the closed buttons. You want to, but maybe you shouldn’t. It wasn’t exactly the time.
Originally, you had come home to shower and change: Everyone was having dinner together at Rick and Michonne’s tonight, the first time in a long time. In fact, it was Judith who requested it; she said specifically how much she wanted all of her friends to be there. And you couldn’t disappoint the sweet girl who gave you a construction paper and crayon written invitation, asking you to promise Uncle Daryl would come. The ticket was for both of you, a little picture of you two holding hands at the bottom. ‘Pretty smile you,’ and ‘grumpy pants him,’ she explained.
It was hilariously perfect and it made your heart leap. You and Micchone laughed for a whole minute about it and you hugged Judith immediately after.
Though you couldn’t believe that she could possibly think Daryl wouldn’t come. Of course he’d do anything for her, and you would too, so just as much, ‘Of course,’ you told her, ‘We’ll even be there 10 minutes early so we can pick seats next to you,’ you had said.
But now you’re here, in such a cliche you’d roll your eyes at if you weren’t so in the moment, with Daryl touching up your leg and you allowing it. For once, you’re the one all dirty in your work clothes. And the longer you kiss him, and the longer he holds you on his lap, the more you feel it; the want, the need. You’re getting restless and you’re struggling to weigh the options in your mind.
You lived in Alexandria, helping Rick, Micchone, Rosita… And Daryl, he was sent off to head reconstruction at the Sanctuary: you two don't get to see each other as often as you’d like.
And the Sanctuary wasn’t a place you particularly liked visiting anyways, especially not at first, and he didn’t blame you. But you had still talked to him about trying it, staying there. Maybe a week, maybe longer, maybe seeing if someone else can take over your Alexandria responsibilities, but honestly, he didn’t want you there either. He didn’t even want to be there. Every week that went by was another step closer to talking to Rick about leaving.
Still, moments like this are when you wonder about asking again, if you should be the one to finally move instead… The thought fades as Daryl now groans slightly into your mouth, you had pushed yourself down on his groin which elicited the dark sound, and you moan into him in response. Your hand gripping tightly to his bicep and his digs into your side, holding you tight— you’re losing the ability to think.
His tongue is twisting with yours, and his hand goes lower on your hip, the other deeper into your hair. You’re starting to have a heat pool at your center and you're squeezing your thighs together.
Daryl can sense it and feel all of it: the indecision, the squirming– your feet shuffling and curling against each other, your legs slowly swinging up and under the chair as you do so, as your continue to melt into his lips.
And he does feel it too, though he’s better at not showing it, but you do start to feel him shifting underneath you. An erection starts to harden as your hand goes lower on his chest and the little sounds of you humming into his mouth become more sexy, more desiring, than simply sweet as you continue.
He lets go, slipping his fingers between your knees, “We don’t gotta do too much.”
This makes you laugh. You’re still looking at him all dopey eyed, and more than slightly needy despite your words terribly trying to fight it, “What’s just enough then?”
His hand moves up along your inner thighs as an answer. His fingers trail up until they reach the center, and press into you at the inseam of your jeans. You start to buck up to his movements just as they begin. You even put your own hand over his, pressing into yourself more, your head tilting back. You bite your lip, whining lightly.
“Like that?” He asks, your neediness surprising the both of you.
“Last time I saw you was last week— for a day,” you’re speaking between light, out of breath pants, “outside- scavenging- no time.” Leaning forward into his touch, pretty sounds trail out, “-uh, mmm.”
You continue to grind against his hand harder, adding your other hand on top of his for more pressure until he says, “Get up.”
You stand, starting to undo your jeans and Daryl pushes the back of your chair further against your desk and starts to unbuckle his belt, but right before he finishes, you stop him. You grab his hands, “Wait,” you tell him, slipping off your shoes, and discarding your pants until you sit down again, straddling his lap.
There was something about the way you could see the outline of his bulge by how his pants laid on him, and the nice friction you knew the jeans would cause underneath you that felt so enticing. And more importantly, his bulge looked huge, fat even, you wanted to sit yourself perfectly right on top of it, making sure you could feel it all squish deliciously into your pussy lips with only your thin underwear covering you.
You begin to rock, pushing down against him. Your tiptoes reach the ground, helping you dig in and your hands go to grab onto his shoulders. Daryl holds your hips, thumbs pressing into your back, helping to roll your body into his.
His legs shift beneath you and it makes you think about his thighs again. How yummy they would feel just like his bulge…You have a little bit of time, right? Never mind- you’ll do it fast.
You get up once more, now placing yourself on his left thigh and you start rocking against him again.
Daryl quietly lets you, his hands go under your shirt and you let him take it off, leaving you in only your underwear while he’s fully clothed. He doesn’t mind letting you do what you want right now, he’s enjoying it. Grunting lowly, loving how he can watch you in your blissed out state: your open mouth, your sloppy humping and riding, how you're whining and panting as he touches up your stomach, how you’re so needy that you take one of his hands higher to caress your breast. He licks his teeth, “Need it bad, huh?” He tenses his quad, applying pressure so perfectly, just as you’d been thinking about for days. “Huh, sweetheart?”
“Think about you everyday, Daryl.” You sound just a bit too pathetic, but he eats it up, a small wicked grin coming to his face just looking at how much you wanted him. Not only thinking about his cock stuffed in you, but even how you wanted his thighs too? Just him in general? His poor girl, so deprived of him. He hated being apart, but fuck did he love how desperate it made you when he visited, desperate for him, desperate for him to give it to you or let you have it in any way. It gave him ideas of what he would do to you after you got back from dinner.
Your knee is centered in the middle of his thighs, pushing against his groin with each roll of your pelvis and the rock of Daryl’s hands as he pushes your hips forward, both helping you reach that point of pure bliss, going hard and deep, while giving him just a bit a release from the tension he feels because of you.
You close your eyes, head tilting up to the side lightly, mouth agape. “Ah, mm-” Your frustrated sounds then turn into you sighing so light, so sweetly, “I missed you.”
His hand reaches the side of your face briefly, rolling over your hair and cheek, “Missed you too.”
You knew your underwear was more than damp at this point, but you hoped the dark denim of his pants would mean it wouldn’t be that bad. You were lying to yourself honestly, but you did have wipes anyway, and… Was it bad to say you wanted to soak his jeans? For him to see the mess you made? Remember how big of a spot you created for later? There was no mistake, he had to spend the night. Having dinner in Alexandria made it so that it was too late for him to go back to the Sancutary afterwards. You wondered what he’d do to you later, what you’d let him do. He did miss you, he said it himself after all. And you feel his stare on your lower stomach as you continue to roll yourself on him, as he watches your clothed pussy make a mess of his jeans. And he sees the way his unintentional grunts and slight growls to the sight of you make your head tilt back, mouth opened so wide like you were already preparing to suck him off.
Your eyes are closed, your open mouth allowing a string of “ahs,” to come out as you continue to rub yourself against his muscle, wiggling a little, back and forth, going in a circle for a second to get more attention onto your clit, feeling yourself get wetter and wetter from your boyfriend’s big, and thick thigh. Your knee digs into him harder and he uses one hand to push it against him more.
After he lets go, one of his hands slips into your underwear, placing his middle finger over your clit, rubbing fast circles into it as much as he can as you continue to rock down on both thigh and fingers now. The extra friction feels so good. You’re whining, your panting, holding onto his shoulder with one hand, the other hand grabbing onto your desk, trying to stabilize yourself as you attempt to go faster, your movements becoming more erratic. “Daryl, please,” you whine, “help me.”
He places his free hand on your ass, kneading it forward and his other hand tries its best to circle into your pussy as much as it can.
As his middle finger continues to circle your clit, his two other fingers push into either side of your labia. “Go on,” he encourages, “Already made a mess. Make it bigger.” He moves his hand to your hip again, pushing you down. “You got it.”
Then he starts bouncing his leg, you bounce along with him, trying to rock as hard as you can. You start moaning louder, it’s continuous, you’re getting closer, you see yellow white light behind your eyes as a release takes over you, it’s hot and you can barely breathe, you almost wail as you coat his hands, ruining your panties, soaking his jeans. It felt amazing.
You huff out heavily now, finally opening your eyes to see Daryl take his hand from beneath you, licking his fingers clean. Wet popping sounds come out after he sucks each one, looking you directly in the eye. “Mmm.”
You blush gingerly at him. Getting up you see the large wer spot on his pant leg. It wasn’t a circle, it was ovular, taking up half the area of his thigh. Your teeth clench, you thought it would be big, but… you didn’t know it would be that big. This wasn’t something you could quickly clean off. “I guess it’s a good thing you keep your extra clothes here?”
He keeps his face straight, he figured as much would happen, but it was fun to see you squirm. “These were my extra clothes.”
“Oh.”
You should have let him take his pants off.
#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon x reader smut#daryl dixon x fem!reader#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon x you#wonders with writella#wonders with daryl#the walking dead fanfiction#the walking dead smut#twd smut#twd fic#twd fanfiction#daryl dixon x female reader smut
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Hi! @sinsandsweetness mentioned you when I had requested something from them. Theirs was just so wonderful and needed that day.
I was wondering if you would be comfortable doing a variation of that idea. Daryl x fem!reader, gentle smut while reader needs some comfort and closeness. I understand if you wouldn’t want to.
Thank you so much.
Hi! ♡ Sure :) I can do that. Perhaps I can use it as an exercise for myself to write something shorter. I think this came out a little more fluffy than maybe you might have wanted but I still added in everything! Let me know what you think! And thank you so much for being my first anon and first request- this was so exciting for me!
Also, for any other readers, I ended up not needing to use pronouns so you can consider this afab!reader, but you can still picture it as a fem!reader, anon, it still works both ways. ♡
This includes some smut, soft!Daryl, both reader and Daryl feeling down, and both of them expressing their care for one another.
Your bedroom window is always three inches open. You knew Daryl could get through without the help, but him coming into your room at night had become a recognized habit, so you decided it was best to do it anyway. It was a sign that he was welcomed, that he didn’t always have to sneak in for whatever reason he did. You would have always let him in. He should have known that.
You didn’t question it though, talking about your feelings to him wasn’t your strong suit either. Especially not tonight when the light breeze blowing from your window touched the tears rolling down your cheek, making them chill.
You turned from it, just in case Daryl decided to come that night. You didn’t want to worry him or seem like a child. Bad things happen everyday in this world. You don’t see anyone else at camp crying all the time. Yet there you were, finding it hard to shake these feelings for the third night in a row.
You heard the sliding of the glass now, Daryl’s finger pressing up on the window to make it wider. He held the sides and put his legs through first. Normally this would have been seamless and silent, but Daryl was getting comfortable with this routine, becoming more lax with his stealth in this case.
You wiped your tears quietly, your hand movements very slow, not daring to move too far to the sides just in case he saw your fingers. You hoped he would just think you’re awake but not crying.
“You up?” He asks, his voice is a whisper, but nonetheless you hear his ever present rasp.
“Yes,”
He takes off his shoes, and his pants, and his vest, hanging it on the hooks of the back of your door. He sits on your bed then, just on the corner, his hands on his knees, motionless.
You look up at him, trying your best to make your inhale not sound like a sniffle. “Daryl?”
“Hm,”
“Are you okay?”
“Are you?” It’s a retort, but he says it just as genuinely and softly as you asked. “Why were you crying?”
You’re silent for a minute. Why is it as if you have all the words when you are alone, but the second someone is around, the second that someone shows they care, you are wordless? Your mind is so heavy, the thoughts spiraling, but your mouth is completely empty and dry. Speaking becomes impossible now. “I don’t know,” is all you can say.
You come up to him and sit beside him. He only looks at you quickly through the corners of his eyes, but keeps his head down, his hair in his face.
You hold his opposite shoulder and his leg and move your head into the crux of his neck, closing your eyes. Your hand then moves to his cheek, gently brushing up and down, feeling the bristles of his facial hair. It makes him lean into you.
Finally, his head turns to your face, your hand still resting at the side of his. Your thumb brushes over his sad eyes and his lips and he wipes your slow coming tears.
He kisses your nose, rubbing his into yours, until he starts to kiss your lips. His hand comes to your jaw and neck as he deepens it, laying you on the bed. The two of you move upwards until you reach your pillow again.
He delicately takes off your shirt, and pants, and underwear and you try to help him do the same.
He lays on you now and you hold his head and neck. His hands are at your hips as he slowly presses down on you, moving. You press up into him. He kisses your neck, peppering it lightly.
Afterwards, he pushes himself inside of you and moves only a little until his motions stop. His arms and body wrapping around you in totality. Your arms try their best to reach everywhere on his back, your movements so slow, delicate, and tender. You untangle pieces of his hair softly. He is inside of you, but truly you are hugging, embracing each other with love.
As a moment passes you finally whisper, “It’s so hard to pretend everything is okay all the time.”
You’re on the verge of tears again as you admit it. “There are things about the past that I don’t want back, ever, but some days I just really wish we didn’t have to fight… sometimes I just get so tired… sometimes I think I would-”
A scary thought comes that you decide not to share.
Daryl looks at you now, holding your head. It’s almost as if his hands are just that big as he holds both sides. You feel the warmth radiating off of them to your cheeks and your ears. He puts his forehead against yours, sending all his love through to you. “We don’t gotta pretend in here.”
He kisses your lips again, it’s sweet and light. You’ve never felt him do it like this before.
He begins to truly move inside you now. Your arms wrap around his middle back, it’s like you’re still hugging until he takes your hands in his, resting them parallel to your head as he holds on and he pumps just a bit faster, creating a deep and steady rhythm.
His head is curled into your neck as you sigh into him, his body making you feel a release from your worries. It causes him to meet your eyes again but they are closed. He kisses you once more, ‘I love you,’ his lips are truly saying as they melt into you, ‘It’ll be okay. I’ll make it okay. Just for you.’
#the walking dead#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon x reader smut#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon x y/n#twd fanfiction#twd smut#afab reader#daryl dixon x afab!reader#💌 ask answered 💌#anons ♡#wonders with writella#wonderings with daryl
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hi, sweetie! Hope you’re doing well. I just had the cutest thought that I wanted to share. And maybe if you want to add on to it as a drabble or something please feel free:) if not, then please just enjoy todays shower thoughts lol.
I’m thinking about a friends with benefits! reader and Daryl who find themselves travelling by canoe for whatever reason. And how they might get into some petty argument or even play fight that ends with them flipping the boat and the two of them just stand in the water, soaking wet and staring blankly at eachother with disappointment. Bangs sticking to your both your foreheads as the canoe slowly floats down the river along with all your dignity.
Take care! xoxo
Rocking the Boat
Synopsis: Daryl has been back home for weeks; the first attack against the Sanctuary is complete; Alexandria, the Kingdom, and the Hilltop are on their way to freedom; but nothing is the same as it was, especially not with you and Daryl. Maybe a house boat side quest will break the ice, or really, make some waves.
Details: This is set during the beginning of season 8, it includes violence, smut, a fwb relationship but feelings are involved, mutual pining, a little bit of switch Daryl and reader, and some sweetness because I think it’s just my thing at this point. ♡
A/N + Response: Hello, lovely miss T ♡ what a fun idea!! I love the imagery you set with the canoe tipping over, especially the bangs so cute— it was one of my favorite parts to write here! This is probably a bit unrealistic and much longer than I intended, so I think I might consider this a full one-shot as well as a concept, and… it’s also a bit sad? Just a little until we get to the good stuff, I promise ;) Anyway I hope you like it; let me know what you think!!
Daryl sat on Rick’s porch, his back against the poles, reloading his guns as you sped up the steps, “I think we should go back to the boats. Now.” Your voice was hurried, you had run all the way from your house, but he didn't even look up at you.
“Why would we do somethin’ stupid like that?” His voice was low, and annoyed. You didn’t expect to be greeted kindly, but at least he sounded like anything other than emotionless to you since the first time you saw him again; since the time he escaped the Sanctuary.
“There’s no one there. I saw it before I got back home. There were people with guns sitting outside the first time we saw it, but now there aren't.”
“A couple of guns ain’t gonna help us.”
“There had to have been a reason they were guarding it before.” Your words were urgent and your eyes pleaded for him to look up. “Any amount of guns could make the difference, Daryl. You know that.” You stare at him, waiting for nothing as he doesn’t respond. “Did you and Rick even find anything before you got back?” You cross your arms, “Cause it doesn’t look like it. And I think I just did.”
You had gotten separated from the group after the first attack against the Sanctuary: you ran without thinking, just trying to get away from the army of walkers stampeding the place. Straying off the usual path to Alexandria, you accidentally reencountered a place you and Daryl only saw once before. It was a time before Negan, before the Saviors. But now, remembering their jackets, and their weapons, and how their bikes looked parked at the shore, you realized those were three Savior cabin boats— fairly sized, a bit rusty, they had a shack like feel, but it was big enough to stand and sleep in. Maybe something of use could be in there, and at least it was something to do while you waited for the final attack.
Similar to Rosita and Michonne, you also got hurt by the scavengers— day zero of the war, when Sasha died— but the girls left you here, they didn’t even tell you they were going, you didn’t even see them leave. But you needed to get out too; you needed to help. “I’m going with or without you.” Your anger started bubbling at his indifference, “And I saw you talking to Tara, I know you’re planning something, so if you want to go off with her and complete your idiot side plan-”
“You’re the one with the dumbass plan.”
“- then that’s fine!” You glare at him, his eyes still so evasive, it infuriates you. “My objective is to find more weapons, before the final attack.” You lied, you both knew your objective was to rest before the final attack, “So I’m gonna go do that.”
You begin to walk briskly. You knew he was going to try to stop you. You knew he was going to come with you when he realized, yet again, he couldn’t stop you, or… you hoped he couldn’t… Sometimes you forget how much stronger he is than you. You had a smart mouth and you knew how to get a reaction out of him, or at least you did in the past, but he could pinned you down with one hand, making you completely immobile— it’s happened before. The thought makes you walk faster, heading for the nearest car. You were trying to make a point although you weren’t sure what it was. You were just tired of sitting around, tired of his treatment— mistreatment, actually. You knew he had reason to act curtly, what he went through was unspeakable, but you were still there for him, waiting, but he never came to you. Not even late at night. Not even to simply sleep.
Just as you’re about to reach the car you feel his hand wrap around your arm, you almost let it yank you. Your breath is a heavy mix of fear and excitement as he does so. Maybe you finally got something out of him. Maybe you still have it. Maybe you still have him. “We don’t got time for this,” he hissed. Then his jaw clenched, it almost looked like he was chewing on something, “but you’re forgetting the boat.”
“It’s a canoe.” You were pushing it with the retort, he was coming.
He grunts as he lets go of your arm, it slapping down to your side. You wait for him by the car as he retrieves the canoe and paddles from one of the house garages. You guys had found it a long while ago, never knowing when it would be of use. That time was now.
The ride toward the waterfront was irritable and depressing to say the least. You wanted to be around Daryl, you wanted to stop him from going off plan with Tara, but most importantly, you just wanted to talk to him; finally and for once. You all were on the biggest missions of your life, in the biggest war of your life… who knows where your fates would lie after this, but he has yet to say anything to you that didn’t involve fighting the Saviors, and even with that, he didn’t say much. He wanted to win. He was ready to do it fast. Whatever it took. That was all.
He kept shifting in his seat, short, low grunts coming out of the side of his mouth— he didn’t want to do this right now, but he knew you were just as stubborn as him, especially when it came to him. As dumb as he felt this was, it wasn’t time for another person he cares about to get hurt.
“Stop fuming,” you muttered.
He snapped back, barking your name, “We’re in a war! We could be doin’ better things right now and got me here for what?”
“Maybe so you don’t kill people we need alive right now?” You were talking about Dwight, you did more than just see Daryl talking to Tara.
His following grunt truly said typical. “You always got your nose where it don’t belong.”
You ignore him, “We should follow Rick’s plan.”
He shakes his head, ignoring you this time. He’s tired of talking about this. He’s going to go on the boat, see if there’s weapons, get Tara, and use whatever you two find to complete his own plan at the Sanctuary. This needs to be done.
“At least it’s a little over 5 miles off the out-post the Kingdom took out,” you reason, “that must be why no one is there anymore.”
Still no response. Typical, it’s your turn to think it. You let go of talking to him for now. The rest of the drive was silent as well as when you get to your destination, starting to put the canoe on water.
You look at the three small, now unguarded, boats. Only one bike was by the land and there was blood splattered on the middle house, the biggest one. Maybe the Kingdom took out the guy that was there, but there were no boats or canoes around, no way for someone to get close enough inside.
You two get in, starting to row. “There better be somethin’ good in there,” Daryl huffed. You hoped so too. Uncertainty started filling in with the reality of your awful plan. There really could be nothing in there and you really could have spent your day doing something that mattered to the cause. If these boats held anything important, why wasn’t a Savior there already? But even worse, the realization that you were acting out of desperation just because Daryl had been acting so cold… felt even more terrible.
You knew Daryl was scarred, far more than before and you were trying to be patient. You were going to let him come to you. You knew he needed time, and he was at the Kingdom for a little bit anyway, hiding out from Negan. You couldn’t even talk to him if you wanted to because of that. But now you had been planning that first attack for weeks, you were sleeping in the same place together again, but not in the same room, not touching. And again, you understood why, but then again… you didn’t. It was so hard to gain his trust, for him to open up to you, you thought that was something you gained for keeps; but now he wasn’t even allowing you to have a friendship anymore, let alone this in-between relationship you used to have. It made you upset how much power you realized you let him have over you. You missed him so much, and now you weren’t even sure if he missed you back, or if he had reason to. Maybe it was just a fling after all.
War feels long, but it’s only a short time in truth. Nonetheless, a short time that can define who you are thereafter. This could be him, and maybe it always was. And this could be how you two will always be. Forever.
You decide to break the silence again as you row, your thoughts becoming insufferable: “That’s actually not the right technique,” you stutter, “if- if you’re curious.” You start to row based on what you taught yourself, the canoe going just a bit faster now, “I read it in a book from Deana’s old library.”
“So you read somethin’ in a book and now you think you know everything?” His eyes were annoyed. “Hmph.”
Your voice raises, “Well just because you’re so experienced in the wilderness or whatever doesn’t mean you know everything either.”
“I’m doin’ it fine.” He wasn’t. “You don’t even know how to swim.” You didn’t. “So maybe just be glad you ain’t dying today.”
You repeat yourself, “Still- doesn’t- mean- you know how to do everything… You expect me to think Merle took you canoeing? Of all things?” You cock your head, “Pretty sure he was out finding the next score.” You knew it was a low blow to bring up the dead brother, but you were upset. No talking and now insults? You could be cold too, even colder, even if you didn’t like it.
“Shut up.”
“You shut up!”
Then you screamed. A walker with gills, swimming in the water approached your boat behind Daryl. Your voice made him turn around to see it. You take your paddle to try to stab it in the head, but the walker’s hands are along the canoe rim, coming closer to you, it makes you accidently hit Daryl with your swing. “Oh- Sorry!”
“Fuck!” He yelled.
“I’m sorry!” A realization comes, “Is this the guy?”
“If it was he’s been dead for a while.” Daryl shouts, taking out his gun and you take out your knife. He’s trying to shoot the walker in the head, it’s closer to your side now. But you’re thrashing and water is flying while you try to jab them in the head with your knife. The walker has one of your arms and you’re trying to pry it away with the hand that has the knife. Neither of you have a clear shot at getting the thing, all three of you rocking the canoe far too much.
“Stay still!” He yells at you.
“Im trying!” You shout with the same force, the same annoyance, “He’s not making it easy, Daryl!”
Daryl has a chance to shoot the walker in the stomach, and he takes it, but it does nothing. The walker’s hands on you do not quit. The two of you just keep yelling at each other, riling the walker up. You can hear the biting sounds they’re making near your arm.
He shoots again, but you and the walker are still moving too much and Daryl’s loosing balance. The walker is tipping the canoe with their hands, water splashing inside. The next bullet goes into the wood, making a hole.
Their starving mouth continues to try to bite at you. You pull using all your strength to get their mouth away, trying to use your other hand to slice into their head. You two have never seen a walker like this: they can swim and they’re so strong.
Water now fills the boat from the hole as Daryl moves forward on the canoe, pushing your head, his hand quite literally covering your whole face to shove you out of the way, getting a clear shot at the walker and firing at their head. He clicks twice: Boom. Boom. Guts and water fly everywhere.
The splashing of the water and the firing of his gun overwhelms all your senses. The weight of Daryl is on your side now, neither of you have balance; both your weights pull the canoe over the edge as it flips over entirely with you under it.
You scream, but your voice is muffled. You thrash around, trying to use what little experience you have. You come above water for a few seconds, wailing, and Daryl grabs you.
“Hey- Hey- Hey!” his words snap, rough like barks until he gets you to look at him, gripping your face so it’s forward. “It’s okay,” he’s breathing almost as heavy as you are. His voice becomes even now, “It’s okay.” You realize he has you in his arms— it really was okay.
Feeling he might make a comment about you almost drowning, you force yourself to speak through water filled lungs, “Don’t. Say it.”
So he didn’t. He just holds you tight, you even feel his thumbs squeezing into you at the waist now, and through half lidded eyes, you see his arms tense, working hard to make sure you never fall, but it’s at a half arm's length, his elbows bent. You blink rapidly, your wet eyelashes still flapping shut until you’re able to open them better. You can see Daryl more clearly now.
You try to swipe some of the hair out of your face. The baby hairs at the crown of your forehead stayed slick in place while some parts of your hair started to lightly form your wave or curl pattern, but in all, you were absolutely drenched.
Your hands now hold onto his forearms just as tight as his below. It was one of those rare moments where you remember just how blue his eyes are. Their narrow shape and the way his hair lays always hides them away. But the sun was behind you, casting its light directly on him and his hair was now slick to his head as well: only some of it resting on his forehead.
If someone were to describe Daryl’s looks, they would probably say something typical like dark and rugged. They don’t see what you see. God, you forgot how uniquely handsome he was.
His hair changed colors in the light, it wasn’t as dark brown anymore, flecks of it were a more golden brown in the sun. And you loved the mole that was just above his lip and facial hair. Almost no one else in the group had something like that. And now, there was the way his button down stuck onto his skin. The color was dark enough that it wasn’t see-through, but you saw every indent, every line of his bicep and tricep as you looked at his arms, trying to avoid his face, trying to avoid his chest or anywhere lower.
On the other hand, Daryl was trying even harder to avoid looking at your soaked body, failing even worse. His eyes couldn’t help but linger on how your chest huffed as you tried to catch your breath. Your collarbones are now exposed as your shirt slides down just a bit further, the light color almost see through because of the water, and your bra didn’t help much either. It was one of those without the padding, it was the only one that fit— your supplies, food and wearable, clean clothing, were running dangerously low at home. The thin material of both top garments showed how your nipples perked up now. And the way he had to grasp tightly on the smalls of your waist, feeling your stomach inhale and exhale as you calmed yourself down didn’t help either. It was like he felt your hold body moving… similar to a way he used to feel it.
It all makes him realize now how he hasn’t gotten the courage to look at you directly in the longest. God, he forgot how pretty you are. How lovely it was to hold you. Even if it was to escape death.
Your eyes are so big as you hold on tightly to his arms, you’re still shaken up. Trying to paddle your feet like you’ve seen on tv and in videos in the past. It’s adorable.
He didn’t dare look any longer, but part of him wondered if you were looking at him the same way. And you were. Specifically, the way you could see every line and ripple of his abdomen with his button up now glued to his body. As you let your eyes trail just a bit more form his arms, you noticed how magnified his chest looked, how his nipples were just as pert as yours.
It all made you feel something warm down below and it made something inside him twitch, but this wasn’t the time. He had been feeling so many things since he returned that he didn’t even know which ones to act upon first, so he reverted back to saying nothing, or at least nothing that had to do with how he really felt, how he really felt about you that is.
In the end, “You better hope I can make one of those shits run or we’re fucked,” was all he decided to say.
He moves your hands onto the back sides of his waist and he starts to swim. Your legs are off to the sides and he tells you to kick as he is and hold on tight as he swims you both to the middle boathouse, the one with the blood.
You hold onto the ledge as you finally arrive, allowing Daryl to go in first, checking for walkers at each boat. He does the side ones first. No one is there. Finally, he goes to the middle house: out of all of them, it’s the biggest wreck. The place is filled with pictures, Polaroids, scattered all over the place. It’s of the Saviors. And there’s all kinds of guns scattered on the floor, but he can’t help but to stare at the faces. He knew some of those faces.
You call his name, but he doesn’t respond. “What was in the other two?” You yell for him again, but nothing. You decide to go in the middle one as well, your eyes are amazed by the mess of guns on the floor. There were even ones still hooked up to the wall. There were knives and daggers too. Even glass cases with various bullets, you wondered what they did. Was this the emergency weapons stash? Had you reached it before a Savior could? “Why aren’t you picking this stuff up?” You look up at him impatiently, shaking your head and huffing, you’ll do it yourself you guess.
Daryl continues to look around, picking up a frame. The only framed picture in the boat. It was cracked on the ground: A Polaroid of Negan.
He takes the picture out of the broken glass to look at it closer. As if this wasn’t already the attitude of much of the Saviors, whoever lived and protected this place must have worshiped him. Negan stood proudly in it, his bat on the side of his shoulders, a big rifle strapped around his back on the other. His hair and beard was all black, and that notorious, all encompassing grin plastered his face from ear to ear. Daryl turned the picture over: the words, ‘Negan — The First Savior. My Savior,’ was written on the back.
It fired him up. It made him think of the dark, of that cell, of the food that probably wasn’t even food, when he was kicked and jumped by those Saviors in the parking lot, and that damn song— the saccharine melody would live on in his brain like a siren. There would never be silence inside him again. In fact, there never was. It was only louder now. So loud and so angry he feels it in his throat, traveling to his tongue, beneath his eyes, as he can no longer keep it in anymore; but he tries, and tries, and tries, quietly holding everything in while you keep collecting weapons, putting them in bags you find. The picture crumples in his closing hand, his fist turning red as he grips tightly, ruining the shining paper.
He slides down against the boat wall, sitting on the ground biting his tongue, stopping the feelings until you're done; until you two can leave and he can do what he needs to do. It’ll be without you, without Rick, without anyone. This needs to be done. He’ll do it.
“Daryl,” you call out, not facing him, collecting the bags. “I think I counted 32, but it could be 40… I think there’s smaller ones by the wheel and I didn’t even get the swords yet. If there's about the same number on the other two, there could be maybe over 100 new weapons,” you gasp with disbelief. “Were the other two like this?“
You we’re relieved, you knew it was a dumb plan, but you came out of it with a win; it was worth it. “Daryl, come on-” you turn to him now, “oh.”
You almost couldn’t see his eyes with how much more narrow he made them, they were practically closed and his face was down. You wondered if this was the moment you would first see him cry: his lip quivered, his face was as red as his fists, and he wouldn’t look in your direction, his head was basically to the wall as you started to walk to him.
Your movements are slow as you kneel down to the corner in which he sat. You place fingers along his jaw until your whole hand wraps around the area. Your strokes are gentle, feeling the bristles of his beard on your palm. He had been so angry since he returned, hell bent on war and death, but you remembered… he must have also been so sad, so depressed too. Poor boy, you thought. Poor boy, you forgot; in some ways, he still was just a boy.
You turn his cheek to face you, but his eyes don’t dare meet yours as a few tears start rolling out. Your own emerge too. It’s heartbreaking to see him like this.
You put your forehead to his, your nose rubbing against his own, “I’m so sorry,” you whisper.
You come even closer. Your lips lightly touch his, you’re tentative at first, not knowing if it was right, but then you feel his brush against yours just as light. You decide to move in, your lips parting his own as you kiss him.
Your tongue goes into his mouth, your hand raising his chin, you’re so delicate. He holds your shoulder, you lean into his bent body and your other hand slides against his chest. You’re both still wet and cold, but his heart beats warmly.
His head leans up against the wall as you push yourself further onto his lips. You hold his shoulders and he allows you to slide him down.
You look up at him, your hands on his shirt. This is not how you expected today to go. “Is this okay?” You ask softly. His nod is just as soft, you almost don’t see it, but his hands are lightly on top of your own as you unbutton his shirt, he lets you. It’s okay.
He’s unbuckling his belt now, pushing his pants down and your top goes over your head. He starts to unbutton your own jeans. It’s quiet except for your breaths, and the clinking of belts, and the undoing of zippers.
You pull him out a little more from the corner so you can straddle him. You start grinding your hips down into him and he pushes into your clit with his finger, circling it. The bit of warmness you felt below before is now almost pooling out instantly from just the littlest touches. Your back arches, you haven’t felt him in so, so long. You gasp and it accidentally turns into a moan. You’re so needy for it, but you remember: you want to help him.
Your hands move down to his stomach, your lips kiss his neck as your hands travels up to his chest and then back down, you start kissing him everywhere there as you do so, breathing him in, it makes him fidgety, little gruff sounds irruption from his throat, he’s trying to keep it in. Then you got even lower: you kiss down his cock until you’re at the tip. You lick at the pre-cum there. You put just a little bit of him inside your mouth, sucking, stroking the rest of it. His exhale comes out as a shaky gasp, he whimpers slightly.
Finally, you move back up and line yourself up with him, sinking down slowly as you look him in the eyes. You can’t help it, you start to ride him immediately thereafter. The stretch feels so good and so big and full as if you’ve never felt him before. Your moan is light and airy, you missed him. And he groans, “-ugh, fuck” and moans, “uh- mm- argh,” right after you do so. He missed you. You know that now, it makes you smile.
You lean up against him slightly. His mouth parted and you speak into it, your breast brushing against him as you rolled onto him, your stomached touching a bit. “I’ve got you,” you pant into his mouth, he’s panting too, “always.”
He holds onto your hips as you go faster, you’re holding onto his shoulders. “Does it feel good?” You kiss him right after you ask, his tongue going to the top of your mouth, sliding in wet and deliciously, it’s everything you’ve waited for. He hums into you as a response. You feel his dick twitch as your pussy grips on him tighter.
You feel like you both could be close until he starts kissing you more fiercely. His tongue only slipping in slightly as he pecks your lips, he bites down slightly, then kissing you deeply again. Then he turns you over. You’re under him now. His hands go right by your ears, flat on the ground and he thrusts into you. Hard. It almost hurts, you can’t lie. He’s grunting, short and quick, but his rasp, and his hair flying as he quickens the pace, and the fact that pain is slowly turning into pleasure… you’re fine with it. If this is what he needs, you’re fine with it.
His next grunt is almost a yell, it’s like a battle cry. He’s angry and you know it. You hold onto his flex arms tenderly, caressing him, silently telling him you’re there, but you allow him to continue.
His movements are faster now. More irate. His body comes closer to yours, but his movements do not stop their force. His thrusts feels like poundings, you feel like the floor is moving, maybe the boat is rocking, the bags jump with it.
He looks at your screwed shut eyes as one of his hands comes to touch your chest. Trailing your breast, then to the bottom of your stomach, staying there, pressing down, feeling himself inside of you has he shoves himself up and in, he’s deep, so deep. “Mmm,” You’re whining now, “-uuh.” It makes his eyes lighten, he’s humming, low and gruff and continuous, stuttering into you, eyes open waiting to see you come so then he can. It’s right there for him, but he wants to see you, he needs it.
Your moan mixes into a whine, “Daryl please,” you beg, “Daryl please- it’s- it’s too much, it hurts,” it makes him go even faster, and he can’t help himself as he comes in you first, sighing as he does so, but it’s exactly what you need to come undone yourself.
You grab the back of his neck, holding it close to you as you squeeze your arms around him and he does the same to your waist.
You both try to calm your breaths, “Never leave me again,” you say into his ear, breathing roughly. “Please.”
“Never.” He looks at you right in the eye when repeats it, “Never.” He wipes the tears from your face as you both nod, affirming a new promise to each other. “We’ll win. Together.”
After laying for a few moments, just looking at each other, he goes to the bathroom to find a washcloth, warming it with water, helping you clean up. He takes your hand so you can start doing it yourself and he kisses your forehead before he starts to get dressed. “I’ll be back.”
Soon enough, you hear the engine in the front start to rev up. He got it to work.
“You can drive a boat?”
“Gonna learn.” He turns to you, pulling you in front resting your hands on the wheel while he stands behind, his arms over your own. “We both are.”
#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon x reader smut#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon x afab!reader#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon#the walking dead smut#the walking dead fanfiction#twd smut#twd fanfiction#wonders with writella#wonderings with daryl#💌 ask answered 💌
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I was wondering if you could please do a smut (set in season 3) where daryl and the reader go on a supply run and hook up in the car on the way back after flirting the whole day pleasee
Hi, reader!! ♡ Thank you for the prompt :) Here is a super short one, probably the first time I’ve done one this short and quick, it includes sub!Daryl. Hope you like it!!
You gasp, catching your breath as you close the passenger side door. You had just escaped a store infested with walkers, it wasn’t even that big, but your ammo was running low, you two had been out for days, and those walkers were hungry. The front door’s glass was cracked badly and as you two ran out, the walkers piled against it, making it break. A small heard formed as they started coming after you, but luckily Daryl found a car, and you were driving away. “Well that was a close one, bud.”
Daryl’s breaths were heavy too, but he still manages to get out an annoyed and grumbled: “Quit it.” He glared straight ahead, you’ve been with this nickname shit for too long now. “You know my name.”
“Oh, you mean, creeper?” You smile mischievously, but he keeps his head forward as he drives. “You know I can feel your eyes when I walk by… I felt them all day today, actually.” You paused, “Are my shorts just a little too short for you, creeper?”
“You’re full of yourself.”
“No,” you say, your voice like honey, but your eyes are wicked, “I’m not.” Maybe when it came to him though. Definitely when it came to him. He was just so easy to tease sometimes. “It's okay, buddy. I don’t blame you.”
“It's Daryl.”
“Okay,” you smile. “My bad, Dixon.”
He sneers, “Shut up.”
“Make me.” Your eyes change from sly to sweet as you add in the prettiest little voice, “Please?” It makes him drive faster until he turns sharply, parking on the side of the road next to a tree. No walkers or anyone in sight, but he just stays still. Daggers shoot from his eyes. You’re waiting to see if he’ll do something but he doesn’t. “Or do you want to speak?” The fake innocence in your wide eyes and pouty lips makes him want to squeeze your throat as he shoved his tongue in your mouth, but he’s immobile. You two have never gotten this far. “Want me to make you?”
And then you kiss him. Lips crashing into one another. Your hands go straight to his shirt buttons. Your fingers are so cold on his jaw and chest, and his are so warm as they help secure you on his lap, and even when he dips his fingers into your pants, you both feel the fire and he immediately starts rubbing at your clit. You grind against his fingers as you nip and kiss his neck when he does it.
After a few moments, you move his hand from you and place his finger in his mouth. He sucks on it instantly, you can hear the slurping. “Mmm,” you hum, it makes him hum it back, it's almost involuntary as if you just elicited it out of him by saying it first. “Good?” He grunts in response. “Let me taste,” you say and then your tongue slides against his, kissing him once more. You moan into his mouth as you continue to grind against him. He jerks in his seat, making you both shift.
You give him one more kiss and then you say, “I always see you looking, but you know, you’ve never told me… Am I pretty, Daryl?”
He doesn't even remember the last time you’ve called him by his first name and you’re doing it as you take your shirt off, touching up your chest. He can see the way your hips push down against him, trying to go as deep as you can. You’ve been looking at how big his bulge is all day. It makes your eyes roll back as you continue, just thinking about the cock you’re about to bounce on. “Hmm, Daryl?” You gasp, “Tell me.” The sight and your voice made him moan– “ugh, fuck,”-- its all breathy and scratchy, coming from his throat. It's the only thing he can say.
But it makes you stop.
He’s nervous. Did he do something wrong? He just couldn’t help himself. It just came out of him.
You come closer, hands on his shoulders as you look at him, doe eyes piercing into him. “Daryl, I’m being so nice and calling you by your name and everything and you can’t even speak?” You pout, hovering over his lap now, putting your hand in his pants, only ghosting over his hardened cock, “You can’t even tell me I’m pretty?”
He chokes on his breath, swallowing hard. He whimpers and you have to bite your tongue so your own sounds don’t come out. The noise was just delicious, but you were trying to be strong. It was so hard. He could bend you in any way he desired if he truly wanted to, but here you were, above him.
He finally speaks, “You’re- you’re so fuckin’ pretty.”
“Thank you,” you said so sincerely, you sounded like a princess. You smile, stroking him lightly. Then you push down his pants, let his cock spring free and he helps you push down your own. You fill yourself up, making him bottom out in one fluid motion, it feels better than you could have possibly imagined. Sighing at the feeling you whisper, “Wow, you’re such a good boy.”
#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon x fem!reader#daryl dixon x afab!reader#the walking dead smut#daryl dixon x reader smut#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon x you#twd smut#twd fanfiction#wonders with writella#wonderings with daryl#💌 ask answered 💌
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just read ‘working it out’ and to say the least it was amazinggg. a pt 2 where they get to finish what they started without the interruption of officer cockblock would be equally amazinggg ! keep up the good work, can’t wait to read more ! ❤️
Hi again, lovely reader! ♡ You’re so sweet and I appreciate you so much!! You and @murdadixon with the sheriff/officer cockblock is still sooo silly and funny, you made me laugh!! Anyway here’s what I got for you, let me know if you like it!
For any new readers, even though I use a line from the previous work and reference it a few times, this can still be read on its own I think, but if you’d like to read that one (Working It Out) there it is!
This includes smut of course— a bit softer than the first part, a relationship confirmation, and Daryl and the reader being totally in love with each other even if they don’t say it; such cuties.
Two weeks have passed. Another fourteen days of walking, and walking, and walking. Eating plants and berries deemed as safe, and those where few and far between. Not to mention, the amount that each of you shared evenly when you found something could be counted on your fingers— it was practically nothing.
You guys needed to find a cabin again, or get back to the towns, maybe find a house or supermarket or drugstore. You were so deep in the wilderness.
That car Rick and Michonne found didn’t take you any far. All of you couldn’t fit in it, anyway. Each of you took turns riding and sitting in it, trying to find a new place to camp in. You did this for six days until the car gave out.
Despite the lush greenery that surrounded you, it was needless to say that this had been a more than bleak half of a month.
Daryl brought the color back to you, just a little at least. He would always opt to stand and walk closer to you and the group as you all continued your trek; and he’d even offer you a little of his food sometimes, although you always refused— “we all need to stay alive right now,” you’d whisper, “but you’re sweet.” You couldn’t tell if it made him smile or blush or not, but part part of you wondered; he didn’t look you in the eye, and that usually meant there was something there he didn’t want you to see. And there was always the way you would feel his hand on your back at times, pushing you forward when the endless walking slowed you down to exhaustion. He always gently guided you to keep moving.
His silent kindness was so tender, so needed.
But he was still quiet, and in some ways, you couldn’t even blame him. It’s just who he is; and it’s sort of who you all were becoming right now. There was nothing to talk about unless it had to do with food, a plan to find shelter, or killing walkers that got in the way. And with all of you together all the time, there really wasn’t a moment to talk about the state of your relationship, but your mind kept rewinding and turning over with his previous words, I’ll kiss you like this anywhere… Any way you want. You longed for the day that this would be true. If these words were food, they were the only thing sustaining you; it was the only thing good to think about at all.
A few more days had past until you finally caught a break. You saw Rick starting to run as he shouted Carl’s name. He was running ahead of him, “I think I see something!” Carl told the group.
It was a barn. Completely desolate, the wooden walls almost looked unstable, but there was a roof. It was a place to sleep. At least for the night.
“Thank God.” Gabriel’s exhale matched the whirling wind as he said it, it was a true release; a relief. Some may not have had the same beliefs as him or thought the barn was anything that special, but no one disagreed. The barn door had a latch and a couple of blankets someone must had left. As little as it was, it was something to be just the littlest bit thankful for after sleeping on the dirt with nothing for what felt like ages.
As night rolled in, you were lucky enough to get a corner spot. It was one of the ones that was closest to the door. You had taken care of Judith during the day, so you had sat there most of the time trying to keep her quiet and entertaining her. You even got to take a nap when she did. She was so warm, it was nice. You almost felt sad when Rick relieved you of her, but because of it you offered to take first watch, knowing you were more rested than the others.
Your stuff was still in place, but you moved closer to the door, using the slit between the door and the rest of the wall as a peephole to look through when you remembered or when you heard any strange.
Daryl moved himself to your spot. The barn was dark, but you could tell it was him based on how he walked. He took his steps with the sway of his hips, his feet heavy as they tapped on the ground when he didn’t care if he was seen or not, different from when he hunts.
He put his stuff down in the corner with yours and right when you thought he was probably going to lay down himself, he comes up to you.
“Daryl, sleep.” It was a soft demand.
“Can’t.” He said simply, moving closer to the door to sit with you. He was so close that your arms and knees touched. You took the opportunity to rest your head on his shoulder even if it wasn’t an invitation. He doesn’t protest. His head lightly rests on yours actually.
“It’s so cold,” you whisper, taking the sheet off your legs, it was so thin, it did nothing, and the cracks between the old barn’s wooden panels didn’t help either, the wind seeping through much stronger as the night went on.
Daryl rubbed his hands on your lower leg— the calf, heating it up until one of his hands rests on your knee, the action made you laugh lightly. It was a kind attempt. Then, his hand started lowering to your inner thigh. It was just to the middle of it. It didn’t have to be anything more if you didn’t want it to be, it could have just been a gentle hand, trying to warm you up, though you couldn’t help but to let yourself close the gap between your legs; allowing him to heat you in a different way. Slowly, he pushed his hand further down.
Once he reached your center he turned his palm inward, his fingers pressing into you over your jeans. You rocked up to him, closing your eyes, turning you head away from him as your breathed in sharply. You were quiet, other than your exhales that came out of your nose, but you tried for them to sound as small and short as you could.
One of your knees caved inward to build upon the pressure, trying to lock his hand in further. He dipped his hand into your pants without even unbuttoning them, stretching the denim to fit his thick fingers beneath. He started to slide his middle finger through your wetness until it found your hole and he slide right in, circling while his palm rubbed against you on top. It made you reach out for his shoulder tightly.
“Daryl,” your whisper was piercing as you gasped. “Can we go outside?”
He nodded to you, though you could only see it slightly through the darkness of the barn. You eyes widened as he unexpectedly picked you up, it was a wordless and soundless motion. He opened the latch of the barn, taking you to the outer back side, then gently placing you on feet.
Your eyes matched the stars of the sky. Was this finally going to happen? Everyone was asleep, or so it seemed. No one else was around…
The realization made you notice how big he was in that moment: his broad shoulders and arms, his hands, his bulge… it makes you look back up at his face again right when you reach it. You stand there for a moment, you eyes fixed on him, the limitless sensation of right now overwhelming you until— instinct kicks in, your actions, almost animalistic. You were so used to respecting this blurred-line-friendship you didn’t know what he would think to see you so eager, so desperate again, but your shirt and bra and pants come off immediately. You wanted him. So bad.
If you all died tonight it was your fault. You were doing a horrible job at keeping watch, but your mind was absolutely elsewhere that you didn’t even think of it.
You look up at him as you continue and notice he is repeating your actions at the same force, it makes you smile excitedly, it was comforting as much as it was so, so dirty. Here you were, starting to have sex outside… again. Was this you? Maybe for Daryl. No, definitely for Daryl.
You instantly put your hands on his chest and abdomen when he was done undressing and you kiss him, it’s just in the way you’ve always wanted to, the way you’ve dreamed about.
His hands goes to your waist as you do so and one of them travels farther to your ass, pressing on it as he pushes you up to his height. Your hands go over his shoulder and you’re on your toes to help.
He gently pushes you toward the wall and you slide down on it, you could get splinters but you’re not thinking, you don’t care. There is only him right now, there is only finally getting to touch him right now.
You lay yourself on the ground and he goes above you. Neither of you even think about him touching you more to get you more wet as you see him hardened, as you see him throbbing. It makes you throb. It makes you whine.
His actions say don’t worry, as he kisses your chest between your breast once before he slowly pushes into you, watching himself go in. Enjoying the way it looks as he bottoms out until he’s hovering over you, closer now. He kisses you quickly on the lips before starting to thrust and moving in, and out, and in, in, in. “Mmmm.”
Then he exhales, a breathy sigh, and you do to. So good, you think, “So good” you sigh out. “Thank you.” You stroke his hair.
“It feels really good,” he agrees. You’ve never seen him be so soft, it makes you giggle. You like this side of him.
You hand travels from his hair, to his neck and down to his back. Your other hand comes to his back to match and your knees move forward around him as well. You are light with your touches, you’ve yet to touch his back almost at all before, especially not like this.
“I want to make you come,” he says lowly, it’s almost comical how genuine and sincere he means it, but he does. His voice soft despite its rasp.
“You can,” you reassure; you’re so sure, in fact. You’ve wanted this forever.
He starts to speed up, but it’s more of a deep and full explosion of movements than it is a hard and fast one. You feel it everywhere, it feels like this perfect balance between sex for lust and sex for showing his love. Your moan sounds beautiful, it sounds like finally. He loves it.
His head goes into your neck and both your mouths are open, you’re both panting, you’re both smiling, you’re both happy. So happy and feelings so good that you want it to last forever.
Your eyes open and you see the stars again. They match the stars in your eyes, you can’t tell which are real and which are fake or if you’re seeing anything that’s real at all right now. You don’t even know if this is a hunger ridden hallucination as you see a star shoot across the sky and feel it right at the bottom of your stomach as you both come undone. It’s the first time you’ve felt complete.
He colapses onto you now, you feel all his weight and you don’t care. His forehead is on yours and you hold the sides of his face. It feels infinite.
You don’t know how much or how little time passes until you hear, “So, that’s you keepin’ watch, kid?” The sound make Daryl’s head go up and your hands go straight to your head. Why is it always the leader of your group to find you like this?
“Why you always watching?” Daryl finds your shirt and puts it over your head again before he tries to cover himself up.
“Just came out to use the bathroom, Daryl.”
As Rick started walking to a tree, his smirk is still firmly placed he says, “I’m sure you two tired yourselves out, I’ll take watch for now.” He looked back, knowing you were clothed now, smiling directly at you, “Goodnight.” The look was almost actually sincere. If he did see anything, maybe he knows it wasn’t what he saw last time… at least not entirely.
As you see his body move out of sight, Daryl turns to you, “You need to stop gettin’ embarrassed by him.” He finishes putting on the rest of his clothes, leaving his vest on the ground, and he brings you closer to him, leaning you two against the barn wall. You nod you head, acknowledging his words and his arms go around your shoulder and you melted into it. The cold air finally getting to you again as the heat of the moment passes and your flushed face starts to fade.
You look up at him from his shoulder, “Daryl?”
“Yeah,” he saw your mouth slightly open, the words were on your tongue and he knew it, but you weren’t speaking. “Say it.”
“Are we… are we an us?” You were still too scared to use the words you truly wanted, you opted for being as vaguely specific or specifically vague as possible, “Am I… Am I- your- person.”
He looked at your eyes that were below his head, “I think you have been. All this time.” You noticed his lips twitching into a smile, but trying to keep them down, to keep them neutral. It’s hard, you make him happy even when he doesn’t want to show it. Even though it’s hard for him to show it to other people. Even though he’s terrified of how vulnerable you make him.
“I just don’t want to have to guess.”
“Well then you don’t gotta anymore… I’ll make sure you don’t have to. We’re together,” he shrugs, “We’ve always been.”
He kisses you now, fully this time, holding your cheek as he does so. It’s the light and soft way, but also the deep way; it was both the ‘anywhere’ and ‘any way you want’ way. You hold his face in return, accepting his words, accepting it all. If anyone else where to come out they would see that truly your lips weren’t the ones in action, but your two hearts drumming into each other, wordlessly saying everything: I’m yours and you’re mine. It’s always been like this.
that unconfirmed possible voyager!rick(???) surprise SHAWTYY jfdjfj anyway, thank you for reading!!!!! ♡ ♡ ♡
#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon x reader smut#daryl dixon#daryl dixion imagine#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon x fem!reader#the walking dead smut#the walking dead fanfiction#twd smut#twd fanfiction#wonders with writella#wonderings with daryl#💌 ask answered 💌
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I know others have probably said this before, but I just love the idea that Daryl would be the type to give you little things— small treasures— or do things for you— share a sweet moment, or of course, be his heroic self and help you (or really you help each other) out of harms way. I think it’s because one of his love languages obviously has to be acts of service. He may not be a big talker, but the way he fights for his loved ones is nothing sort of fearless, and as I heard Norman Reedus say in an interview, when it comes to Daryl as a person, “it’s about what you do, and what you say, and what you follow up with…” Similarly, I think this is how he would show his sincerity and care for a partner and since he may not be quick with the verbal initiation…
⋆｡˚ this care would first be shown in the things he gives you or does with you like… ⋆｡˚
- The way you’d probably have variety of little knickknacks all around your room or ones that you’d keep in your pocket from things Daryl has found for you outside.
- Perhaps he would find cool looking or pretty rocks on the ground from a supply run or from hunting in the forest.
- He’d pick the interesting ones, the ones that glittered or shimmered in the sun, or if he was lucky enough to find it, maybe there’d be a colorful mineral.
- You’d have them specifically placed all around different corners in your room, the collection getting too big to keep in one place.
- Maybe he’d also start a charm collection for you.
- One time in the woods, the two of you tracked a deer, or really Daryl did. You stood behind, taking it as a hunting lesson for yourself.
- When he caught the deer, you both went closer to the body and in the corner of your eye you saw something that shined in the grass.
- Crouching down to pick it up you discovered a tiny charm of the sun. “Look!” You held it to the sky so the sun could shine on it further.
- “We just caught a deer, and you’re lookin at that?”
- “We just caught a deer for the first time in months and this was right by them… it’s good luck, literally a lucky charm.”
- You clipped it onto your necklace so you didn’t loose it.
- There was something about how the charm, and the actual sun, and your eyes shined perfectly together with it, so after that, he wanted to find one with a moon and another with stars to match.
- Then, he’d just start collecting whatever charm or even keychains that had a clasp or jump ring to add to your collection.
- You didn’t even think it was something you’d be interested in starting until he found those other two. It felt special because he gave it to you and it made you become obsessed so much so that you even joined him in the pursuit of finding charms or cool little keychains yourself.
- It became a fun little side quest for the both of you, a-not-actual-competition-competition to find the most interesting and unique ones when you happened to be on runs together.
- You’d both keep an eye out on the ground or whenever you searched vacant neighborhood houses: looking in the kids room for charms or on the key hooks by the front door for keychains that could possibly work.
- If either of you found one you didn’t have, you’d add it to your collection. Or if you found those bigger keychain character figurine ones, you’d both give those to Judith so she could play with it. Unbeknownst to her, you were helping her set up a collection as well.
- You would use them to hopefully make a charm bracelet in the future if you found the right chain for it or if you could find pieces to make one yourself; or you would just switch them off with your necklace chain depending on the day; or have them on your backpack or jeans or belt if you could.
- Now here’s a moment: after a lot of begging and wear down he would finally teach you how to ride his bike.
- You two were a team, and he knew he would probably need you to know how to ride eventually. Maybe it would come in handy when the group is attacked or they are the one doing the attacking. Who knows where he’ll be or where you’ll be in those moments? Or who the bike is closer to in that instance. This way, you have a possible escape plan with that extra skill.
- You’d probably even get a little too comfortable after you got better at riding and try to hop on first, taking the main spot.
- He doesn’t always let you, pushing you to the back so he can get in front, but sometimes… sometimes, he likes letting you take the wheel, because he knows you like it from time to time, and because he likes to see you smile; likes to see you proud of your capability.
- I think he’d also try to find a special knife for you. Something unique like Carol’s or that has a nice sleeve like Beth’s did. Something uniquely your own. Just like he has his bow.
- And with that, if you didn’t have one yet, I also think he might help you find the best weapon for you. Another thing that you could have as your own that you could become very skilled at fighting with.
- One time, he’d even gift you with the action of allowing you to talk a picture of him: Rick’s polaroid would have been in your backpack one day as you take a break from your travels outside of Alexandria. You and Daryl are sitting under a tree near an open grass plain. You would see how the wind made strands of his hair fly, making him look even more effortless in his uniquely strange natural beauty way. You’d take the camera out slowly, knowing he’d protest, and of course he did.
- “Please,” you would plead softly, “we don’t get to do things like this all the time. All we use the camera for is to document the houses, and the community work, or when Rick used it for the Savior war… it would be nice to have a nice picture for once.”
- He would look down impassively for a moment. You couldn’t tell it from his face— sometimes the quiet usually meant no— but he was actually deciding on doing it for you.
- Finally he says, “If I gotta take one, then it’s going to be of both of us.” He looks up at you through his hair, hiding the fact that he wanted to see how excited you were going to get. “Don’t need no one thinking I wanted a picture of just myself.”
- It makes you laugh. This is even better actually. A picture of you and him to have; a piece of you and him that will last forever.
- He would also gift you with one of his rare touches.
- Maybe it would start with allowing you to hold onto him while you’re on the back of his bike just a little closer. Or him pushing his neck back into you just the slightest bit more when you rest your head on his shoulder as he rides.
- Then maybe, the hugs would start increasing. Him not only giving you one after you’ve just escaped death yet again, but after he comes home one day from a run, maybe it happens just because now.
- And finally, this would all lead up to a kiss. Perhaps first on the side of your head, in your hair, as he comes home from a long journey one day, until the time finally comes where you both express all the things that have kept in your head about each other for so long, revealing your love.
- It would all commence to the kiss that you always wished would be placed right on your lips. It might just be the best gift of all. But not just because it’s a kiss, but because you finally get to love him in the way you’ve always desired. As your man, as your partner, as your Daryl.
So… this may or may not be a teaser for the next fic? >:) Stay tuned. ♡
#daryl dixon x reader#the walking dead#daryl dixon#twd fanfiction#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon x fem!reader#daryl dixon fluff#daryl dixon x y/n#twd fluff#wonders with writella#wonderings with daryl#writella’s sfw section
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Navigation— Writella’s Wonderland ✿
| Masterlist | Rules | About Me | @xowritella is my likes and following account. ♡
Feel free to talk to me and share your requests! ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ♡
Reblogging and feedback is highly encouraged. ♡ Other than that, please do not re-publish, copy, or plagiarize my work on any platform as your own. Thank you so much and welcome!!!
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Writella’s Concepts Masterlist—
Wonders with Writella
This is my Masterlist with all my requests, prompts, or headcanons that you have submitted an idea for or I came up with myself. These will most likely be shorter than the one-shots on my main Masterlist.
Feel free to send in your requests and thoughts! ♡
key: smut = ♡ fluff = ౨ৎ suggestive = ✿
Daryl Dixon
It’ll Be Okay: Daryl and the reader comfort and embrace each other after a stressful day. ♡
The Little Things: Daryl’s acts of service through giving the reader little treasures. ౨ৎ
Working It Out: ‘It’s Always Been Like This’: A part two to ‘Working It Out’ where Daryl and the reader finish where they left off and finally define their relationship. ♡
Rocking the Boat: A search for guns with a broken canoe that leaves Daryl and the reader soaked, holding onto each other for dear life. (Also available in the main Masterlist). ♡
Nicknames: Reader teases sub!Daryl by calling him nicknames that alludes to car sex. ♡
Before We Leave: Sitting on Daryl’s lap, getting kisses, and thigh riding… a literal dream. (Also available in main Masterlist). ♡
Rick Grimes
Getting Ready for Me: Rick catches you touching yourself and decides to help you out. ♡
Extras
A Little Help: Some fun kissing and touching with both Daryl and Rosita. ♡
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Just want to say I love navigations, and masterlists, and special hashtags, and themes. It’s so cute and personal. ♡ If I follow you, or if we’re mutuals, or if you’re one of my readers or rebloggers and you’ve been in my notifications more than once, I’ve probably seen your blog and I love what you’ve done with the place. So you. Keep going!!
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Writella’s Masterlist
Here is a list of all my work! Please feel free to send me your thoughts, daydreams, or requests┊͙
My favorite characters that I currently write the most for are Daryl Dixon and Rick Grimes of The Walking Dead, but I am very open to writing others characters as well!
To find any of my shorter, resquested work or personal headcanons click ➳ Concepts Masterlist— Wonders with Writella
key: smut = ♡ fluff = ౨ৎ suggestive = ✿
The Walking Dead
Rick Grimes
Moments Behind His Eyes ♡
In the Meadow ♡
The Confession ♡
Daryl Dixon
Go to Sleep ♡
Working It Out ♡ (Part Two ➳ It’s Always Been Like This ♡)
Rocking the Boat ♡
Trinkets; The Gifts of Gold He Gave You ౨ৎ
Before We Leave ♡
A Different Kind of Ride ♡
Extras
Friend Like You (rick x fem!reader x rosita) ♡
Screwed Up and Brilliant (negan x fem!reader) ♡
Julie and the Phantoms ⋆ discontinued ⋆
Luke Patterson ⋆ discontinued ⋆
Touch
Admirers
Around and Around and Around
Dating Luke Patterson
#masterlist#the walking dead#rick grimes smut#rick grimes fanfiction#rick grimes x reader#rick grimes imagine#daryl imagines#daryl dixion imagine#daryl dixion smut#daryl dixion x reader#navigation
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