heathermason6060

Latest Posts by heathermason6060

Hoooooooleeeeeey ⊙⁠﹏⁠⊙ "thought I wasn't gonna do anything?" Yhnnnnnhssjsjsjwksksk

Feral

Daryl x Reader

Summary: You’ve been teasing Daryl all day—brushing up against him, bending over just enough to give him a view, and letting out soft, breathy sighs during your run at the warehouse. You didn’t know what would happen when he finally snapped. But when he does, you’re not ready for just how unhinged he can be.

notes: hope you're okay with some dark!daryl

Warnings: SMUT: Daryl calls you a bitch but not like that you’re a bitch but in reference to like a dog, feral af daryl. animalistic daryl. biting, dirty talk. unprotected sex, 0 pull out. Rough. ooc. again uhhhh sorry! enjoy!

The warehouse is dark, lit only by thin streams of fading daylight that cut through broken windows high above. The air smells stale, tinged with rust and dust. You’ve been weaving through rows of abandoned shelves for hours, scavenging for anything useful, but the real tension isn’t in the run. It’s in him.

Daryl’s been unusually quiet today—not just his usual quiet, but simmering, brooding. You’ve felt his eyes on you more times than you can count, catching the way his jaw tightens every time you bend down to inspect something or brush past him in the narrow aisles.

To be fair, you hadn't exactly been subtle about it all day.

Maybe, just maybe, you’ve been bending down just enough to let the cheeks of your ass peek out under your shorts, reaching a little too high on tiptoes to make your shirt ride up, sighing softly when your fingers finally grip something from the shelves.

You’re playing with fire, and you know it. And with the occasional sway of your hips, the quick glances over your shoulder—it’s all to see if he's looking. You’re testing the waters, seeing how far you can push him before he snaps.

And snap he does.

It's when you squeeze past him in another narrow aisle, the swell of your ass brushing his lap does he freeze like a predator catching a scent.

“Enough,” he growls, his voice echoing low in the cavernous space.

You freeze, not even fully past him, glancing back at him over your shoulder. He’s standing stock still, shoulders rigid, his crossbow hanging loosely in one hand, the other clenched into a fist at his side. His eyes burn into yours, dark and smoldering, his chest rising and falling a little too fast.

“Enough what?” you ask, feigning innocence as you widen your eyes.

“You think I don’t know what you’re doin’?” he rasps, leaning in closer, so close you can feel the warmth of his breath on your cheek.

You carefully, at an agonizingly slow pace, begin to lean back into him, craning your neck as you sit back on your heels, feet firmly planted. He leans in, one hand gripping firmly on the shelf beside your head, caging you on one side. His scent—earth, sweat, and leather—fills your senses, making your head swim.

“What am I doing, Daryl?” you murmur, tilting your head up to meet his gaze, your lips betraying you as they curl into a whisper of a smile.

His eyes darken, flicking to your mouth for the briefest second before snapping back to yours. “Been gettin' under my damn skin,” he says, his voice a low growl that makes your pulse quicken. “Every look, every word—hell, even the way yer walkin',”

You arch a brow, feigning innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His jaw works, the muscle flexing as his nostrils flare. He steps in close, crowding your space even more, his chest pushing up into your back. The other hand plants itself on the edge of the shelf beside your head, now completely boxing you in. His breath is warm on your neck, and your mind begins to melt at the closeness, at the way he leans in closer, like he can smell your arousal. “Yeah, ya do,” he mutters, his voice rough, almost guttural.

The tension is unbearable, the air between you electric. Your heart races as you squeeze your eyes shut at the sudden rush of heat in your veins. “Then say it,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

He pauses, and the way his breathing quickens makes you wonder if he’s waging a war with himself.

His lips hover just above your ear, “Say what?” he bites out, his tone rough, but there’s something else there too—something raw, barely masked.

Your open your eyes to look into his again, challenging: “That you want me.”

For a moment, the world feels suspended. You’re both holding your breath, the cold bite of the shelving against your chest, contrasting with the furnace of his body pressing against you. His hands tighten on the shelves, the tension in his body vibrating through the air between you.

Then, as if time catches up, he’s on you, spinning you around with his large hands, and his mouth crashes against yours in a way that’s all heat and desperation.

The kiss is searing, all consuming, and you barely have time to process before Daryl’s hands find your hips, pulling you against him. You shamelessly hike your leg around his waist, his one hand holding you steady by the thigh, his grip nearly bruising. The thought flickers across your mind that you hope the shelves will hold you if he were to fuck you against them, as you didn't need a loud crashing noise to draw in outside walkers.

As the thought leaves you, the shelves creak as your body presses into them, but all you can focus on is him—his mouth, rough and demanding, and the heat radiating off his skin. His tongue is possessive as it leads the kiss, surprisingly confident and fervent on exploring your mouth.

His lips trail down, planting kisses along your jaw, then your neck. Each press of his mouth is deliberate, almost punishing, like he’s letting out all the frustration you’ve stirred up in him. His scruff scrapes against your skin, leaving it tingling, and when he nips at the sensitive spot just below your ear, a gasp escapes your lips.

“Daryl,” you manage, your voice breathless, but he doesn’t let up. His hand grips your waist intently, sliding beneath your shirt, the roughness of his calloused fingers are electric and heated, a stark contrast to the softness of your skin.

“You been drivin’ me crazy all damn day,” he mutters against your throat, teeth grazing as his voice registers low and gravelly. “Every little thing—every damn look.”

Your back arches instinctively as his lips continue their descent, brushing along your collarbone. His palms are cupping your breasts, pushing under your bra. Heat engulfs the space between your bodies as he kneads with roughness. You gasp as his fingers find your nipples, pinching and twisting. Your own hands find the edge of his vest, fisting the worn leather as you try to ground yourself, but it’s no use. He’s overwhelming, consuming, and the fire building inside you feels like it’s about to consume you whole.

“Thought I wasn’t gonna do anything, huh?” he murmurs, his voice dripping with that rugged confidence that’s so uniquely him. His hands grip even tighter your breasts, like he can't get you close enough against him, and you can feel the strength coiled in his body, barely restrained.

“Maybe,” you whisper, your lips curling into a breathless smile.

His eyes meet your hooded gaze, dark and primal, and the intensity in them makes your breath hitch. He leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a whisper of a kiss, before he pulls back just enough to make you chase him. The smirk that tugs at the corner of his mouth is almost taunting, and it makes your pulse quicken even more.

“You like teasin’ me,” he says, his voice barely more than a growl. “That it? You like pushin’ me ‘til I break?"

Your breath catches, but you don’t back down. Instead, you let your fingers trail up his chest, brushing against the exposed skin at the base of his throat as you grind yourself into him. “Maybe I do,” you reply, your voice trembling but steady enough to meet his challenge.

His gaze holds yours for a long, agonizing moment, and the raw, unspoken emotions swirling in his eyes leave you breathless. Then, with a sudden, deliberate motion, his hands drop to your hips, and he spins you back around, your chest pressing again against the cold metal shelving. His hands are firm but not unkind as they guide your movements, and the sharp contrast between the roughness of the metal and the press of his body makes your skin prickle with anticipation all over again.

The warmth of him vanishes as he suddenly kneels behind you, and before you can twist around to see what he’s doing, his fingers hook into your waistband and tug your shorts down in one swift motion. You yelp, the sound echoing softly in the empty warehouse. The cool air bites at your flushed skin, heightening the contrast as his hand lands sharply on your ass, the sting spreading deliciously.

A second slap follows, then a third, leaving your skin tingling as your knees wobble under the intensity. Daryl's hands steady you, gripping your hips as his breath ghosts over the sensitive skin of your thighs. Then, his face presses between your legs, his nose brushing intimately against you, and you’re no longer worried about keeping balance—just consumed by the sensation.

His tongue makes contact, and it's like a spark igniting deep inside you. His nose nudges at the delicate crease between your folds and your ass, the pressure melting into pleasure as he tongues at the apex of your thighs.

His mouth makes sinful, debaucherous noises as he slurps and laps and laves at your sex, his primal groans echoing in the empty warehouse around you. You bring your own hand up to your face, covering your mouth to keep yourself quiet as pressure builds in your lower abdomen, your knees nearly giving out as he pushes his face further into your cheeks.

The emptiness inside you aches as your walls clench around nothing, the longing for him almost unbearable. His tongue is relentless, sinful in its ministrations, and the tension coiled in your core finally snaps, pleasure washing over you in waves. You cry out despite yourself, your legs trembling as you cling to the shelving for support.

Daryl doesn’t stop, his mouth working you through every last pulse of your orgasm until your thighs shake with overstimulation. Only then does he pull back, rising to his feet in one fluid motion. His hands slide up your sides, teasingly slow, leaving your pants pooled at your ankles. The heat of his breath against your ear sends another shiver rippling through you.

"Like a bitch in heat," he says thickly, voice filled with arousal. You whimper, arching your neck to catch his lips in yours, the tang of yourself on his lips now coating your tongue as he kisses you with fierce need. “Gonna fuck you like one now, okay, baby?” he murmurs, his voice molten against your lips.

You nod vigorously, your anticipation mounting as he fumbles with his belt. The clink of metal and the low zip of his jeans send a fresh wave of heat coursing through you. The blunt tip of him presses against your entrance, and you brace yourself, squeezing your eyes shut as he begins to push inside.

Your walls clenched against him, even just the tip as it slips into you, the tug of your pussy making him suck in air through his teeth, "Fuck," he breathes, "that's it, nice n'easy,"

He moves slowly at first, inch by inch, letting you adjust to him, but the moment he’s fully seated, he's moving. His hand grips your waist, the crescents of his nails digging into the soft skin of your curves as he pulls his hips back, the vice of your walls around him making both of you curse. You probably should've gotten a look at just how big he was before agreeing to this, because the way he was stretching you out on his cock was going to ruin sex with anyone else for the rest of your life.

Daryl still hasn't bottomed out into you when he continues moving, the slap of skin and grunts and your whines echo through the warehouse as you grip the shelving with all your life. He has a sort of predatory grace as he continues pounding into you, his animalistic grunts only adding to the pleasure, your body trembling under the onslaught. Every rough drag of his cock against your walls drives you closer to another release. His movements are raw, untamed, and utterly feral, each thrust sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you.

His thrusts suddenly begin to become mindless, words and curses incoherently slipping past his lips. From praising you, You feel so good. What a good pup, good girl. To cursing you, Fucking tease.

“Daryl, please—” you gasp, glancing back over your shoulder, but you see his blue eyes flash with menace, teeth bared as he leans closer into you.

Suddenly, his teeth are sinking into the flesh of your neck.

You cry out as his growls rumble against your skin, the sharp bite of pain blending seamlessly into a tidal wave of pleasure. Daryl had always been aloof, always more wild than the rest of the group. But this--this was absolutely feral, and you loved every fucking second. Each guttural grunt from him feeds the raw, primal energy between you, leaving you feeling like nothing more than two feral creatures in the wild, chasing your highs with reckless abandon. Your mind blanks completely as his hips slam into yours, his cock driving deep and relentless, stretching you so completely it feels like he’s splitting you in half.

Your fingers slip from the shelves as your knees weaken, but his grip on you is unrelenting, keeping you steady as he continues to take you with wild need. The coil in your core tightens unbearably, your free hand slipping between your legs to rub tight circles against your clit.

“You’re gonna take it,” he growls against your neck, his breath hot and ragged. “Every last fucking bit.”

You hear his grunts turn into a low, whispering chuckle as his teeth tighten in your flesh when you moan in return, unable to form words. You're sure he's going to leave marks if not blood bruises in your skin very soon. His thrusts become more and more violent and aimless as he continues, but you can feel his rhythm faltering. He's close, and you are too.

“Cum for me, Daryl, please,” you beg, your voice trembling with desperation. “I want to feel it. Feel all of you.”

His teeth release your neck, leaving a wet trail of kisses along your jaw as he groans in your ear. “You want me to fill you up, huh, that it?” he rasps, his voice thick and gravelly.

“Yes,” you moan, the word spilling from your lips like a prayer.

His lips curl into a wicked grin against your skin. “Good girl,” he murmurs before his teeth nip your earlobe, sending you spiraling into your second orgasm.

Your body clenches around him, milking him as his hips falter. With one final thrust, he stills, his arms locking around you as he spills inside, a guttural growl tearing from his throat.

Stars burst behind your eyes as the intensity of your climax leaves you trembling, your legs barely able to hold you up. Daryl keeps you pressed against him, his breath hot and ragged against your neck as the two of you come down together, the warehouse filled with the sound of your labored breathing.

He doesn’t move for a long moment, his arms still wrapped around you as if anchoring himself. When he finally gets his bearings back, his grip loosens, though his arms still hold you close. His touch is gentler now, almost reverent.

"Goddamn," he breathes against your shoulder, his lips brushing over the marks his teeth left on your neck until he finally slips himself out of you to return himself to his jeans. "You’re perfect. S'like you were made for me."

You hum in approval, a shaky laugh slipping past your lips.

"What?" he asks, his voice raspier than usual, tinged with exhaustion.

"Nothin’," you say, tilting your face to look up at him. “Just think you might’ve ruined sex with anyone else for the rest of my existence.”

“That's alright,” he chuckles, the sound low and rough. “’Cause now yer all mine. Ain’t nobody gonna touch you like this—like I do.”

“So… this isn’t the last time?” you ask, aiming for casual but failing miserably, your voice betraying the anticipation and hope bubbling inside you.

"Only if you want it to be," he whispers, his eyes searching yours.

You shake your head quickly, your breath hitching as his words sink in. “I don’t,” you admit softly, your voice carrying an edge of vulnerability you hadn’t expected.

A small, crooked smile tugs at his lips, and his hand comes up to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. “Good,” he murmurs, his thumb trailing gently along your cheekbone.

Though he doesn't say much, his words send a shiver down your spine, his tone low and heavy with promise. You lean into his touch, letting your eyes flutter closed for a moment as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“C’mon,” he says after a beat, his voice still gruff but tinged with something warmer now. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Daryl Dixon x Reader

warnings: smutttttt

notes: daryl has 0 game, 0 experience, and is eager to please. I thought about this as I was falling asleep last night and couldn't wait to write it for you. Inspired by Norman saying if Daryl ever got down and dirty there would be premature ejaculation

She/her pronouns, foreplay only, gets straight to it

The invitation had been innocent enough, though Daryl had found a way to make it a minefield in his head. Dinner at her house. Nothing fancy, she’d said. Just them, some canned spaghetti, and maybe a drink.

He’d almost said no, but the way she’d looked at him—smiling soft and easy, like she wanted him there more than anyone else—made him mutter, “Yeah, alright.”

Now, he’s sitting on her couch, shoulders stiff, his crossbow propped awkwardly by the door. She hums in the kitchen, clinking dishes together. He wonders if it’s too late to leave.

“Don’t sit too quiet in there,” she calls, teasing. “You’ll scare the furniture.”

Daryl huffs a laugh through his nose. “Furniture don’t need me to make it nervous.”

She steps into the room, carrying two mismatched bowls. “You kidding? You’re terrifying. Real menace, Dixon.” She hands him a bowl, sitting close enough for her thigh to press against his.

Daryl shifts, his grip tightening on the bowl. “S’not what people usually say.”

She gives him a sidelong glance, lips quirking. “What do they say?”

He doesn’t answer, staring into the spaghetti like it’s gonna save him. She leans in, the bare skin of her arm brushing his, and he forgets how to breathe.

“You’re not used to this, huh?” Her tone is light, but her eyes are searching.

He shrugs. “Dunno what ‘this’ is.”

“Someone flirting with you,” she says, blunt as ever, setting her bowl aside. “How’s that feel, by the way?”

He almost chokes. “Ain’t what you’re doin’.”

“It’s exactly what I’m doing.”

His ears burn, and he fights the urge to stand up and bolt. “Y/N—”

She cuts him off, leaning closer, her voice dropping to something softer. “If I haven't made it abundantly clear lately: I like you. A lot.”

The words hit him harder than any walker ever could. He swallows, glancing at her, then quickly away. “Ain’t right.”

“Why not?”

“I’m… too old.” He shifts again, looking anywhere but her face. “You could do better.”

Her laugh is quiet, almost disbelieving. “You really think that?”

He nods, his jaw tightening. “Don’t got think ‘bout it. It’s true.”

She tilts her head, watching him for a long moment. Then, setting her hand lightly on his knee, she asks, “When’s the last time someone told you you’re wrong?”

He tenses under her touch but doesn’t pull away. “Not wrong—”

“Daryl,” she interrupts gently. “You’ve got this whole big, twisted idea in your head about what you deserve. And it’s bullshit.”

He stiffens. “Ain’t—”

“Bullshit,” she says again, firmer this time. “And I’m gonna prove it.”

She stands, setting her bowl aside, then his, and turns to face him. Her hands are on her hips, her gaze steady as she looks down at him. “Can I ask you something personal?”

He frowns but nods hesitantly.

“Have you ever… been with someone?”

His face flushes crimson, and he drops his gaze to the floor.

“That’s a no, then.” Her voice is warm, not teasing, but it makes him flinch anyway.

“Don’t mean nothin’,” he mumbles, fidgeting where he sits.

“It means everything,” she counters, stepping closer. “Because if no one’s shown you what it feels like to be wanted, how’re you supposed to know?”

His heart hammers against his ribs as she moves between his knees, crouching down and resting her hands lightly on his shins. He stares at her like a deer caught in headlights. “What’re you doin’?”

She smiles, tilting her head. “Only what you want me to. But you have to tell me if you do.”

He swallows hard, his hands gripping the edge of the couch. “I...I dunno.”

“It’s okay to want, Daryl,” she murmurs, moving her legs up and onto his lap with a slow, deliberate movement so she's straddling him, her hands now resting delicately on his shoulders.

His breath catches, and he freezes, his hands hovering uselessly in the air, "Okay," he breathes.

Her voice drops lower, softer. “You don’t even know where to put your hands, do you?”

“I— I can’t—”

She gently lifts his wrists, guiding his hands to the curve of her hips. “Start here.”

He stares at her, wide-eyed, his fingers twitching against her waist. “You sure ‘bout this?”

“I’ve never been more sure.” She says, her hand coming up to cup his jaw, the touch sending electricity into his skin, “I’ll show you what you’ve been missing. Only if you want me to.”

His grip tightens slightly, a shuddering breath escaping him. “Yeah. I want it. I want you.”

Daryl barely has time to process anything before she tilts his chin up, forcing his gaze to meet hers. Her hands are steady, her expression soft but laced with something deeper-desire, maybe? His throat goes dry.

"First things first," she murmurs, brushing her thumb along the line of his jaw. "You ever kissed anyone before?"

He shakes his head, his breathing becoming irregular.

Her smile softens as it spreads across her face, endearing and non judgmental. She leans in, her breath warm against his lips. "Then let me teach you."

Her mouth brushes his softly, testing, like she's giving him the chance to pull away. He doesn't. Instead, his hands tighten on her hips as she deepens the kiss, her lips moving against his in a way that makes his head spin.

"Relax," she whispers against his mouth, pulling back just enough to guide him. He exhales shakily, his shoulders dropping slightly. When she kisses him again, he leans into it this time, his lips parting hesitantly.

She hums in approval, her hands threading into his hair, tugging gently to encourage him. He nearly lets out an inhuman noise at the feeling of her fingers curling in his hair, but he swallows it down, instead focusing on her soft lips on his.

"That's it," she breathes, her voice low and sultry. "Just follow me."

Her tongue traces the seam of his lips, and he jerks slightly, his breath hitching. She pulls back, laughing softly. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he rasps, his face burning. "Just... wasn't expectin' that."

"Well, get used to it," she teases, leaning in again. This time, when her tongue slides tentatively into his mouth, he meets her halfway, mimicking her movements as best as he can. It's clumsy, but she doesn't seem to mind, her soft moans sending heat straight through him. It suddenly occurs to him that she might be enjoying this just as much as hime.

As the kiss deepens, her hips begin to move, rolling slowly against his lap. Daryl tenses, his fingers twitching against her sides as she grinds against him, finally drawing a low, shaky groan from his throat.

Her lips brushing against his stubble and eventually against the shell of his ear where she whispers, "You like that?"

"Yeah. Feels-feels good." he nods, swallowing hard.

She smiles, pressing a kiss to his jaw before pulling back just enough to grab the hem of her shirt. Slowly, she lifts it over her head, tossing it aside to reveal bare skin and soft curves that leave him staring, wide-eyed and trozen.

"You're beautiful," he mutters before he can stop himself, the words tumbling out unfiltered.

Her smile softens, and she cups his face in her hands, searching his eyes. "Could say the same about you. Touch me, Daryl."

His hands flex nervously on her hips, now pressing into bare skin that feels hot to the touch. "Don't wanna mess it up."

"You won't." She reaches for his hands again, guiding them upward until his calloused fingers brush the swell of her breasts. He sucks in a sharp breath, his touch featherlight and hesitant.

"Is this okay?" he asks, his voice rough with uncertainty.

"It's perfect," she murmurs, arching into his touch. "Here, let me show you."

She places her hands over his, guiding his fingers to knead and explore, her soft sighs of pleasure encouraging him. He grows bolder with each movement, his thumbs brushing over her nipples, drawing a gasp from her lips.

"Like that," she breathes, her hips grinding down harder against him. "You're doing so good, Daryl."

Her praise sends a jolt of heat through him, and he pulls her closer, burying his face against her neck as his confidence grows.

"Never done nothin' like this before," he admits, his voice muffled, his lips tracing the column of her neck and moving down to her shoulders, onto her clavicle and chest.

"You're a fast learner," she says breathlessly, tugging his hair gently to make him look at her. Her lips find his again, hungrier this time, and he responds with a desperation that surprises even him.

His hands continue their kneading of her breasts, traveling around her to hug her tight against him, the swell of them pressing into his clothed chest, his hips beginning to move instinctively beneath her. The thought occurs to him that he hates clothes.

She gasps against his mouth, breaking the kiss to press her forehead to his.

"You're incredible," she whispers, her voice breathy. "I've wanted this for so long."

Daryl swallows hard, his chest heaving.

"Don't know what you see in me, but... I don't wanna stop."

"Then don't," she murmurs, kissing him again. "I'll take care of you. Just let me."

With newfound confidence—or maybe just desperation—Daryl leans forward, pressing his lips against the soft skin of her chest. He works his way down, his kisses slow and clumsy, but she doesn’t seem to mind. Her breath hitches when his mouth brushes between the swells of her breasts, and when he kisses the top, then the underside, he swears she arches into him on purpose, trying to drive him out of his damn mind.

Then, tentatively, he takes her nipple into his mouth. The sound she makes—low and ragged—has his cock straining so hard against his jeans he thinks he might lose it right there. Her hands bury themselves in his hair, tugging lightly as his tongue flicks out, testing, tasting her. She gasps, and that sound drives a hunger in him he’s never felt before.

His hips shift beneath her as she continues grinding against him, her movements deliberate and unrelenting. The friction is almost too much, the ache in his lap unbearable. He grips her hips hard, trying to slow her down. “You’re gonna drive me crazy,” he mutters, his voice rough, lips brushing against her neck.

She exhales a shaky laugh, a smile teasing her lips. “That’s kinda the point.”

Before he can respond, she leans back slightly, her hands moving to the waistband of her jeans. “Here,” she says, popping the button open with practiced ease. His breath catches as she begins to slide the zipper down, revealing the curve of her hip.

His mind races. He’s never had a woman like this before—so wanting for him, so sure of herself. His chest tightens at the thought of messing this up, of not being enough for her. But at the same time, his heart pounds with anticipation. God, he’s thought about her like this more times than he can admit. What her skin would feel like. What her lips would taste like. And now, it’s happening, and he feels so far out of his depth he doesn’t know where to begin.

She must notice his wide eyed stare, because her other hand tilts his chin up then, catching his gaze, "Only if you want to," she says again.

His throat is suddenly very dry, and all he can do is nod.

She smiles, and his chest tightens. She guides his hand beneath the waistband of her jeans, the soft skin of her pubic bone brushing his fingers first. The light tuft of hair there is the only thing rougher than her skin, and when his fingers graze lower, they slide easily over the slick heat of her center.

A growl rumbles in his chest, unbidden, as he realizes how wet she is. For him. His head spins, his blood roaring in his ears. When his fingers dip lower, pressing into her, her walls clench around them greedily. She moans—loud, uninhibited—and the sound nearly undoes him.

"Yes, Daryl, that's it," she breathes. "Curl them, baby."

He does as she says, his fingers pressing into her, finding that soft, spongy spot that makes her cry out and buck against him. His palm brushes against the swollen nub at the apex of her sex, and the way she moves against him, grinding against his hand, has him gripping her hip with his free hand to ground himself.

“Goddamn,” he mutters, his voice raw as he watches her, awestruck.

She’s beautiful—blissed out and needy, her body moving with his like they’ve done this a hundred times before. He can’t take it anymore. His free hand comes up, fingers curling lightly around the back of her neck as he pulls her down to kiss him. The kiss is desperate, hungry, and the little sounds she makes against his lips make his body tighten unbearably.

“Don’t stop,” she gasps against his mouth, her voice trembling. “I’m so close.”

Her words send a jolt through him, and he groans low in his throat, the tension in his core mounting to an unbearable peak as he groans against her lips, gasping for breath as his high flushes through him. Before he can stop it, his release hits him hard and stars break against his vision. Her whimpers rise to full on ragged moans as she presses into his hand then one last time, his fingers knuckle deep inside her as they press against her spongey walls as she tightens around them, sucking his digits further into her as the climax breaks over her.

His chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath, her kisses trailing down his jaw and neck as her hips slow, her ragged breaths giving way to soft, contented sighs.

When she pulls back, her cheeks flushed and her eyes hooded with lust, she looks down at him and smiles. “Did you just…?” she asks, her gaze dropping to his lap.

His face burns as he remembers himself, the wetness in his pants prominent as they both look down. Slowly, he pulls his hand from her, the loss of contact making her frown slightly. He bows his head, shame tightening his chest as he presses his hands into his lap.

“That is so hot,” she murmurs, her voice rich and warm, not even a hint of laughter behind it.

Daryl’s head jerks up, his breath catching in his throat. “Hot?” he rasps, his voice cracking slightly.

She nods, her smile soft and utterly disarming as her fingers trail along his jaw. “Yeah. You’re so worked up just from me, Daryl. That’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Her words make his head spin. She’s serious—dead serious—and it hits him like a freight train. She isn’t mocking him, isn’t annoyed or disappointed. She likes him. Wants him. And not just in some passing way.

“You really mean that?” he mumbles, his hands twitching where they return to rest awkwardly against her hips.

Her brow furrows slightly, her expression turning tender. “Of course I mean it. You have no idea how crazy you drive me, do you?”

He stares at her, stunned silent, his heart hammering in his chest. He doesn’t understand it—can’t wrap his head around why someone like her would want someone like him—but the look in her eyes leaves no room for doubt.

Her lips brush against his, slow and teasing. “Wanna go again?” she whispers, her voice like honey. “I’ve got a few more things I can teach you.”

His heart stutters, and he swears the heat in her gaze alone could undo him all over again. She’s not just enjoying herself—she’s reveling in it, like she’s been waiting for this moment as long as he has.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, rough and hoarse. He swallows hard, his body stirring again despite the lingering haze of his release. “Yeah, okay.”

Her smile widens, and it’s nothing short of radiant. She leans in, her mouth covering his in a kiss that feels deeper this time, more confident. He lets himself relax, his hands finding her waist, and for the first time, he lets himself believe this is real—that she’s here, wanting him, and not judging him for a second.

Her hips roll against him again, slow and deliberate, and his fingers tighten instinctively on her waist. When she breaks the kiss, her lips curve into a smirk, her voice dropping to a sultry purr. “Good. ‘Cause we’re just getting started.”

GUYS I FOUND IT

IT'S JUST AS GOOD AS I REMEMBERED

This is so random but does anyone know the old fanfic where it's dean Winchester x reader, the reader has a pain kink and dean needs to stitch her up and girl starts MOANING and deans like "the fuck? That's freaky goddamn" And they have sex. Please does anyone know what I'm talking about

This isn't twd related I'm just really really excited

Whang followed me on Instagram a month or two ago bc I asked him to (cringe I know)

And just now wavywebsurf followed me unprompted 😭😭😭 this is the best day ever dude

I miss the short hair era of Norman/Daryl so much 😔 it's not fair I was born too late to ever see this in person 😔😔😔

EEEEEEEEEE THE END HAS ME KICKING MY FEET/GIGGLING/SMILING AT MY PHONE EEEEEEEEEE I love sheepish bashful Daryl awwwwweee

Hi! I saw your request for some drabbles and was wondering if you could do a fluff Daryl x Fem Reader set in S2 Ep7 where she comes to Daryl's defense (maybe a slap to the face 😆) after Shane's rant about how Sophia would run away if she saw him.

Daryl x Reader requested

author's notes: helloooo!! I loved this and I was cracking up rewatching the scene. Thank you for the request!!

Not much of a sweet fluff but still a fun fluff

"We can't just sweep this under the rug," Andrea's voice is insistent as Shane paces, pushing his hat harshly onto his head. The blue brim shades his angry eyes as he steels over the group. The sun beats down on all of you as you stand in front of the large dilapidated barn. Snarling echoes in the barn ahead, making your skin crawl. Glenn had been acting antsy all morning, finally announcing to the group that Hershel and his family have walkers locked in their barn like they’re just sick relatives waiting to get better.

"It ain't right," T-Dog says flippantly, crossing his arms. "Not remotely."

"Okay," Shane sighs, loud and impatient. "We either gotta go in there, we gotta make things right, or we just gotta go." He adjusts the brim of his hat as he looks at Rick. "Now, we’ve been talkin’ about Fort Banning for a long time."

You roll your eyes. Shane had been running his mouth about Fort Banning since the second you met him, and it was exhausting. He just would not shut the hell up.

"We can't go," Rick hisses, holding up a hand to silence Shane, but of course, Shane doesn’t stop.

"Why, Rick? Why?"

Carol’s small voice trembles as she steps up. "’Cause my daughter’s still out there."

Shane’s face shifts, softening into a strained mask of patience. His eyes close for a brief second, like he’s trying to summon every ounce of strength before speaking again. "Okay," he sighs, dragging a hand over his face. "Carol, I think it’s time we all start considerin’ the other possibility."

"Shane—" you bark, but Rick cuts you off.

"We’re not leavin’ Sophia behind," he says firmly, his tone brooking no argument.

Daryl, still battered from his fall down the ravine, steps forward. His voice is rough, but there’s conviction in every word. "I’m close to findin’ this girl. I just found her damn doll two days ago!"

"You found her doll, Daryl, that's what you did. You found a doll." Shane says incredulously.

There’s a beat of silence before Daryl’s voice rises to a roar, his arms swinging out as if daring Shane to keep going. "Man, you don’t know what the hell you’re talkin’ about!"

"Look, I’m just sayin’ what needs to be said!" Shane shouts back, voice booming. "You get a good lead, it’s in the first 48 hours—after that—"

"Shane, shut up!" you shout, your frustration boiling over, the barn of walkers becoming more and more riled as voices continue to climb.

"Let me tell you somethin' else, man!" Shane barks with a humorless laugh, "If she was alive out there and she saw you comin'—all methed out with your buck knife and geek ears around your neck, she would run in the other direction, man!" he says, pointing across the farm.

Rick is in between them in an instant, Daryl lunging at Shane, his arms swinging in anger, but it's your temper that gets the better of you, and no one stops you as you stalk over in front of Shane.

A loud smack rents the air, your palm stinging on impact as it hits Shane's face. Suddenly, everyone goes still and very, very quiet.

"You," you hiss, jabbing a finger into Shane’s chest. "You shut your damn mouth, asshole. If you’d done half the work Daryl’s done for that little girl, we might’ve actually found her by now. But instead, you’re worried about what, exactly? Fort Banning? Give it a rest. We’re not leavin’ without Sophia. End of. Until you’ve got something useful to say, keep your damn mouth shut."

Your seething breaths come out heavy and hot as you look at the man whose skin is hot pink where you slapped him across his face.

The barn seems quieter now, the walkers’ snarls muffled compared to the buzzing tension in the group. Shane stands dumbfounded, but there's anger and disbelief rising behind his eyes as he takes you in.

You feel a hand on your shoulder from behind you—gentle, trying to ground you—but you shove it off and turn on your heel, storming away toward the camp.

જ⁀➴

Later, you’re at the campfire, your temper still simmering like the embers in front of you. You hold a stick of spam over the flame, your grip tense. Most of the others have scattered to chores or hushed conversations, but the sound of boots crunching on dirt draws your attention.

Daryl approaches, looking uncharacteristically unsure of himself. "Hey," he mutters, his voice rough and low.

You grunt in greeting, not trusting yourself to speak yet without snapping.

For a moment, neither of you says anything. The fire crackles between you, and Daryl shifts his weight, chewing on his bottom lip as he fiddles with an arrow in his hands. You steal a glance at him—his bruised face contemplative—and something softens in your chest. You hand't really gotten to know Daryl in the past few weeks you'd come to know the rest of them. He had a temper, much like you, and wasn't necessarily the most friendly of the bunch. He kept to himself, especially since his brother went missing and you didn't want to bother him, knowing how easily he could be set off these days. But there was something about him, you had to admit to yourself when you glanced at him now. He was handsome, under all the ruggedness and sweaty dirt-smudged skin. He had a tender heart too, and that was something that surprised you most when Sophia had first gone missing. He was the leader of every search party, spent almost every day out looking for her or coming up with plans, and you felt like he deserved so much more recognition than he got. The others chalked him up to a dirty, no good redneck. But you see more than that, especially now. He’s the only one who’s been fighting as hard as you for Sophia, and it feels like no one else recognizes it.

“Didn’t have t’ do that,” he says finally, his southern accent thick as he mumbles.

“Do what?” you ask, though you already know.

He shrugs one shoulder, his eyes still locked on the flames. “Smack ‘im like that. Standin’ up for me.”

You roll your eyes. “Shane pisses me off, that’s all. Asshole thinks he runs the place.”

Daryl nods faintly, his lips twitching like he’s holding back a smile. “Still,” he says, glancing at you briefly before looking away again. “Kinda hot.”

The words catch you completely off guard. Your cheeks heat instantly, and you finally turn to face him, blinking and startled. “Hot?” you repeat, your voice incredulous.

He doesn’t look at you, his mouth tugging into a sheepish smirk as he scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah,” he mumbles. “Ain’t no one ever done somethin’ like that for me before.”

You stare at him for a moment, then let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head as you look away. “You’re unbelievable,” you mutter, though a small, embarrassed smile tugs at your lips.

Daryl shrugs again, a faint blush creeping up his neck. "Guess I owe ya."

“Nah,” you say, the grin lingering on your face despite yourself. “Just... keep doin’ what you’re doin’. That’s enough.”

He hesitates, looking down at the arrow in his hands before glancing back at you. “Come with me next time,” he offers, his voice softer now, like gravel under tires, “I’ll show ya how...to track n' all.”

Your smile widens, a shy warmth blooming between you as you nod. “Alright,” you agree, the tension easing into something lighter. 

He nods, the smallest hint of a smile playing at his lips as the two of you settle into a companionable silence by the fire.

the new aphrodisiac fic is lovely 🙂‍↕️ makes me wonder how much self control rick would try to display under the same situation, but ohhh my lord daryl being both whiny and animalistic is muah chefs kiss ♥️♥️♥️

That's actually a great question cause my immediate thought is "yeah he'd have great restraint" but he's also very fond of the ladies and is real quick to start flirting lmfao so I'm not really sure 🤔 I'll think on that 😏😏

Daryl Dixon x f!Reader Smut: God Bless the Horny French

(Pic from fitjackets)

Warnings/Mentions: Unprotected sex, extreme aphrodisiac, rushed sex, creampies, uncomfortable wetness at end

Summary: Daryl is accidentally exposed to an experimental extreme aphrodisiac while on a run. He tries to hold himself back, but eventually gives in and begs the reader to help him.

Notes: Chat what I gotta do to get this 🙏 God I hope I fixed all the typos

It happened fast. You almost didn't see it. A quick glimmer of clear liquid splashing on the archer after he backed right into a shelf, sending broken shards of glass clattering across the tile floor. Multiple other bottles fell alongside him. He barely managed to avoid any of those busting on his head.

“Jesus, you okay?” Andrea was looking him over despite his aggressive insistence that he was fine. 

“We need to split up.” Rick decided after pacing around the room with his hands on his hips. 

“This place is huge man. There's no way-”

Rick cut Shane off. “Exactly why we need to split up. Daryl, how's your leg?”

You straightened your back out after finally catching your breath. Daryl’s leg wasn't in the best shape, he'd twisted his ankle after missing a step on the staircase. 

Going to another government facility after the CDC incident wasn't the best idea Rick had come up with. The area of the building you were in appeared to be some sort of pharmaceutical manufacturer, judging by the rooms you'd gone through holding lab coats and shelves of all sorts of different pills. The room you were currently using as a safe room had several shelves of glass bottles, and Daryl had just gotten god knows what spilled all over his skin. 

“S'fine. Nothin' I ain't never dealt with.” Daryl tried to prove his point by pushing himself off the wall he leaned on, but the stumble and grimace on his face proved otherwise. 

Shane rolled his eyes and groaned, hands reaching up to hold the back of his head. “Alright. Alright. Rick. C'mere.” 

The two of them had a quiet discussion near the exit of the room, Shane glancing over at Daryl several times. You tried not to stare at them as they spoke, forcing yourself to look at Daryl instead. 

He didn't look too hot. He was leaning against the counter now, palms on the surface behind him and his twisted ankle resting limply on the floor. His face looked red, and the longer you watched him, the more you swore you could see about a million different expressions on his face. 

His eyes flashed up and caught you staring. Your heart dropped ten stories and you quickly looked away with burning cheeks. You could feel him staring you down for a few long seconds before he finally looked away. 

“Here's the plan.” Rick waved everyone over. “You four are gonna clear a way back to the ground floor. You two, take the top floor and do a quick sweep, just in case there's something useful. Daryl, you're gonna stay here until we come back to get you.”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek as you watched Daryl immediately argue. It lasted a while, to your surprise, until eventually Rick shut him up with a good ole “you'll just slow us down, we need to get back to the folks on the highway”, and they left. 

You'd chosen to stay behind with Daryl, for obvious reasons. One, you really liked the guy and wanted to make sure he wouldn't die to some lab made poison, and two, you wanted to be able to help if walkers got in the room and there were too many for him to take care of with his crossbow.

“Your skin isn't melting yet, so that's good.” You chuckled as you squatted next to the shards of broken glass that he busted. You picked at the pieces carefully, eventually finding a chunk with the label still on. 

“Wha’s it say?” He grunted from his spot. He was sitting on a counter near the door you'd come in, fiddling with his crossbow, loading and unloading the same bolt. 

He was clearly very uncomfortable, frequently shifting around and making faces. 

“Uhhh…” you squinted at the label. Whatever liquid inside the bottle had caused the ink to smudge, but you wouldn't have been able to understand it either way. “I don't know. I think it's in French.” 

“Look over there.” You glanced at Daryl as he spoke, seeing him tip his head towards the back door of the room where the others had left. “Saw a few journals on that table. Might be somethin’ in there.”

“Okay. Cross your fingers there's an antidote or something.” You crossed your own fingers and stood up. 

Deciding to start with the journal on top, you flipped through the pages. They were all in English, thankfully. Most of the information was on things you knew nothing about, and it felt like you might as well have been reading French. You got through ten papers when you heard Daryl let out a groan.

Thinking he was in pain, you dropped the journal back on the table and rushed to his side. He was propped up against the counter now, no longer sitting on it, biting his bottom lip. 

“Are you okay?” You reached out for his shoulder and he slunk away from you. It was like touching a dog that had been beaten its whole life. “What's going on, talk to me.”

Daryl shook his head and swallowed another groan. “Nothin'. M'fine.” He said after a moment, and straightened himself out. “S'fine. Keep lookin'.”

“Are you sure?” You didn't want to push it, but if he was beginning to feel side effects from whatever it was that spilled on him, you needed to know. 

“Yeah. Go on.” He tipped his head towards the table again and you nodded, watching him for a few seconds before going back to searching. 

After a while, maybe four minutes, Daryl sat down on the floor in front of his counter. He'd let out occasional whimpers, clearing his throat after every one as if he was embarrassed. 

Worry was eating away at you at this point, and your eyes scanned across the pages as fast as possible. Finally, your eyes landed upon the familiar French words. Your heart rate quickened and you forced yourself to read even faster, your eyes catching the words “pheromones”, “aphrodisiac”, and “primitive and primal behavior”.

Glancing over at Daryl on the floor, you nearly gasped when you saw him.

He had a thin sheen of sweat on his face, his bottom lip swollen from him biting and chewing on it. His eyes looked foggy, and he was struggling to keep them open. There was also a very noticable bulge in his pants, one that he was trying his damnedest to keep his hands off of.

You found yourself asking why the fuck someone would make something like this as you flipped the page. It seemed like some sort of experimental drug, something to boost sex drive in men and women, but according to the notes you read, the effects were much more intense than planned. 

There'd only been three tests done before the outbreak happened, and they were only done on women. 

‘When exposed to the mixture, females initially had no response. Amount of exposure seems to have no significance. No response until ten minutes, first reactions include sensitivity to genitals and sweating.’

You swallowed hard and looked back to Daryl. His eyes were closed now, and his breathing had become much more noticeable, his chests rising and falling with heavy breaths. 

‘After five minutes, subjects begin to make noises of discomfort, having to sit or lie down. Ten minutes after the initial complaints, subjects are unable to keep their hands off themselves, having to stroke and rub their arms, legs, and stomach. Shortly after this touching begins, it deviates to self pleasure. The drug wears off after three orgasms for females.’

At the end of the notes, there was a final bullet. ‘Will test on males next week and record results.’

You pursed your lips and looked over at Daryl again. He looked miserable. How long had it been since he started whining? He was clenching his fists and letting out quiet grunts, shifting uncomfortably on the ground. 

You picked up the journal and walked over to him, taking long but quiet steps, not wanting to startle him. His eyes were still closed when you were only a few feet in front of him. 

“I have good news.” You started. 

At the sound of your voice Daryl forced his eyes open and looked up at you, his pupils blown and his cheeks red. His eyes were half lidded, eyebrows raised in the middle like he was in great pain. 

“Can you tell me what you're feeling first? So I know this is the same thing?”

Daryl's head rolled to the side against the counter behind him, and he sighed. His right hand slid up his arm, and he began stroking his bicep. Your eyes followed the movement of his fingers and you found it impossible to look away. “So goddamn sensitive. Everythin’ is.” 

His eyes flicked up to you and you could tell he was debating on saying something. After a few seconds of silence he looked away. “Feels like I took a whole damn bottle of Viagra.”

You kneeled down next to him and reached out to touch his knee in an attempt at comfort, forgetting for a moment what he'd been exposed to. He choked on a moan and yanked his knee away from you, his hand quickly replacing yours and squeezing his knee. 

“Don't touch me.” He grumbled and moved his hand up to squeeze his thigh. “Jus' tell me what it is.”

“See for yourself.” You handed him the open journal, and he weakly took it from your hands. 

His eyes widened and his nostrils flared as he read, glancing up at you over the page multiple times. 

It was so quiet. You could cut the tension in the air with a knife. 

“If a subject is not allowed to relieve themselves…” Daryl trailed off as he read and groaned. 

“What?”

“Intense cramping, nausea, vomiting, and migraines will occur for the following three to five hours.” After reading the words aloud he thumped his head against the counter again. If the situation wasn't so serious, you would've been amused at the sound of his thick southern accent speaking in full and technical words.

“So, what, you just need to jerk off?” You shrugged your mouth and looked back at Daryl from the paper. “That's easy.”

You were trying your best to sound as nonchalant as possible considering how embarrassed he was. 

“I'll be fine.” He scoffed and tossed the journal back at you. You barely caught it and set it down on the floor beside him before rising to your feet. “I'll wait it out. Barely got any of the shit on me anyway.”

You knew he'd eventually give in, but you didn't want to make this any worse for him. So you started walking around the room, pretending to take interest in the numerous bottles and files. 

Maybe Daryl was right, maybe he could push through it. You'd seen him do things you couldn't imagine trying to do yourself. He had the stamina and the iron will to get through it. If anyone could, Daryl could. 

You snuck a peek at him through a shelf, your eyes landing on him between a bottle of suspicious green liquid and a disgusting jar full of a brown substance. 

“Oh god.” You breathed. 

Daryl was palming himself through his jeans, his head leaning against the counter, eyes closed, and sweat trickling down his neck. 

He looked absolutely irresistible. You couldn't tear your eyes away from him, no matter how bad you felt watching. 

He whimpered out your name and you almost busted your head on the shelf from standing upright so quickly. 

“Yeah?” Your voice cracked and you ran a hand through your hair to sweep it back out of your face. 

“C'mere.”

You walked out from behind the shelf and approached him slowly, trying to hide your surprise when he hadn't stopped what he was doing. He barely looked up at you, his face red with embarrassment and shame. 

“Read more.” He kicked his leg out, sending the journal he'd thrown at you sliding across the floor to your feet. “Find somethin’. S’gotta be a way to reverse it. Or some shit. Dunno, jus’ stop starin’ at me and do somethin’.”

You sighed and sat down on the floor in front of him after grabbing the journal. You knew already that there was no antidote, there was no cure, only a solution, and he was already halfway there. 

You humored him though, and opened it up back to the page you'd marked. Any information on that specific drug ended right at the last note, the next page was on another experimental drug, this one for a more efficient stimulant for soldiers. 

“Find anythin’?” He huffed and you looked back up to him from the page. He looked no better than the last time you'd looked at him, maybe even a little worse. He had stopped touching himself through his jeans though, apparently strong enough to deny his body what it so desperately craved. 

“No. I'm sorry.” You whispered and his face twisted at your words. “Seriously Daryl, just jerk off or something. I'll go stand in the hall.”

“Y’ain't goin’ out there alone.” He shook his head as another bead of sweat trickled down his forehead. 

“Okay, then I'll stand in the corner and plug my ears. But you really need to just get it over with. It's bad enough you twisted your ankle, we'll all be fucked if you've got all those other side effects. Do you know how bad a migraine really is, Daryl? You won't be able to do anything.”

Daryl finally looked at you with a grimace. He only managed a few seconds of eye contact before his eyes traveled lower, down to your chest. His pupils dilated further when he saw down your shirt from the angle you were in, cross legged and slightly leaned over towards him. 

The sight had him groaning again and he tossed his head back to thump against the wooden counters. 

“Get.” He hissed through clenched teeth and flicked his head to the corner. “Go on. Get.”

You got up and walked to the corner, putting your fingers in your ears and humming. You played it cool, like this was a normal day for you, but you were dying inside. 

Dying knowing Daryl fucking Dixon was behind you, touching himself, his dick, probably moaning, his head tilted back, mouth hanging open…

The mental image had wetness pooling between your legs.

At that exact moment you realized you could see him in the reflection of the window you were looking out of.

He looked incredible. His dick in his hand, his free hand squeezing his thigh. His head was tilted back, and his mouth was hanging open. Just like you'd imagined.

It was hard to see his dick in the reflection, though with what little you could see, it looked perfect. In every way. It would fit you perfectly.

You were starting to wonder if you'd been exposed to the drug as well, because it was getting harder and harder to keep your hands off yourself. You had picked up the shards a few minutes ago and they were still wet. You'd wiped your fingers off immediately afterwards, but maybe that wasn't enough.

You quickly reached down between your legs and roughly pressed your fingers against your jeans, right over your clit, sighing softly at the desperately needed friction. You brought your hand back up to plug your ear again, not before hearing him moan.

Oh god. He sounded so fucking good. Your finger froze right outside your ear hole, and it took a lot to actually start plugging your ear again.

Then you heard him call your name.

You whirled around so fast you nearly fell over. “Uh-huh? Yes?”

Seeing it for yourself and not through a reflection sent a pleasurable flip through your lower stomach and you bit back a moan.

“C'mere…” he croaked.

You were in front of him in seconds, kneeling on the floor before his feet with your sweaty palms pressed against your knees.

“It ain't workin’.” He panted. You looked down to see his dick, red from his furious strokes and covered in a shocking amount of precum. “Can't- I can't. Dunno, jus’, I can't-”

“I'm so sorry.” You wanted to reach out and comfort him, he really did look like he was in agony. It broke your heart.

“Can ya’...”

Your eyes widened as he trailed off. His strokes were growing slower, although he hadn't stopped completely, and his breathing had grown more ragged. His eyes were on your face and you felt violent chills run down your spine at the intensity in his gaze.

“Can I what?” You whispered.

“Help.” His upper lip curled in what looked like disgust. He forced himself to look away and sucked in a shaky breath. “It hurts like hell an’-”

“Oh, Daryl, I don't know.” Your voice trembled and you looked towards the door they'd all left from. “They might be back soon.”

“Then quit your cryin’ an’ help.” He snapped. The hardness of his tone had your eyes flashing back to his face. Your immediate reaction was to snap back at him like you always did when he got smart with you. The pitiful expression he held made your heart soften, so you held back your words.

“But isn't this like…” you chose your words carefully. “Like… not very ethical?”

Daryl groaned and thumped his head against the wood again in annoyance. “Ain't the first time I jerked off to ya. S'that what ya’ wanna hear?”

The heat you felt moments ago flooded back to your core at full force and you nodded.

You took one last glance at the exit door and crawled forward. You waited for him to stop touching himself, and after a few seconds of that not happening you reached out and wrapped your hand around the tip.

Daryl immediately threw his head back again and let out a string of moans. The sound was almost enough to make you tear your clothes off and fuck him right then and there.

He thrusted up into your fist, desperate and needy.

“Hey, I need you to say least try to control yourself.” You placed a firm hand on his lower stomach, holding his body against the surface behind him.

“Fuck. M'sorry. Sorry.” Apologies bubbled out from his mouth and he closed his eyes, his eyebrows furrowing tightly together. “Jus' get it over with,” he added much softer, “please.”

There was a part of you that enjoyed seeing him like this. Squirming, sweating, begging, it was something that would've been adorably pathetic if not for the extreme aphrodisiac.

“God. You poor thing.” You hummed and continued what you were doing. You pulled your hand back long enough to spit into your open palm. He groaned at the loss of contact, the same groan turning to a desperate moan when your wet hand returned to his swollen cock.

When you tightened your fist and started twisting your hand at the tip he gasped, bending a leg at the knee like he was trying to stand.

“Uh-uh.” You grabbed him by his collar and dragged him down hard, forcing him to fall back flat against the cool tile floor. “Stay still.”

“Sorry.” He sounded like he was close to crying. He couldn't take much more of this, that was obvious. With your free hand you massaged his balls, trying not to drool when you felt how tight they already were.

“Ain't workin'. Need ya’.”

You looked back up to his face and swallowed a whimper. He was looking right at you, panting heavily with his lips parted.

“Daryl, I'm not gonna fuck you.” You hissed and glanced towards the door again. “What if they walk in, huh? What if those walkers back there bust right through that front door?”

Daryl opened his mouth to argue right as your walkie made a sharp noise of static.

It was Rick, calling your name. You pulled one hand away from him to answer, your other hand still stroking his cock.

“What?”

“Y'all okay?”

You looked over Daryl again and sighed. “Yeah. What's up?”

“It's pretty rough up here. We got most back in the cars, but there's a big group of walkers by the staircase. Gonna be another ten minutes, at least.”

“Okay. Thank you for checking in.”

“Of course. Hang in there Daryl.”

The second you took your finger off the button he was on you.

It all happened so fast you couldn't really process it. All you knew is you were the one with your back on the floor.

Daryl loomed over you for a moment, taking in the way you looked under him. He dipped down and kissed you roughly, moaning into your mouth and kicking your knees apart with his knee. His bare cock ground against your pants like an animal in heat, and the friction made him grunt.

He broke away from your mouth and licked your spit off his bottom lip. “Got ‘nough time. C'mon.” He lowered his head again and nipped at your neck, humping pathetically against you between your thighs.

“Fuck, just wait a second, let me think.” Your eyes were wide in shock as you struggled to process what was happening.

His fingers dug past the waistband of your jeans, tugging on them so hard your body scooted a few inches down the floor. He grunted with irritation and went for your button, fighting to get it undone before unzipping your pants and yanking them down your thighs before you could protest.

“Jesus Christ Daryl.” You sputtered, but didn't object. You lifted your hips off the floor to aid his mission, and soon enough he made quick work in shimmying your pants off your legs.

Your panties came off with your pants, thankfully, you didn't want him to see you in your apocalypse underwear. Gray and covered in holes.

He was back between your thighs the moment your legs were free, grinding his dick against your cunt as if he was too impatient to take the few seconds to insert himself, needing the friction again that badly.

His dick was absolutely soaked, with his own precum and your spit. You were slick as well, so all he needed was to rub himself between your folds a few times to coat the both of you in enough lubricant.

Daryl let out a deep groan and bit his bottom lip, leaning down to bury his face in the crook of your neck. He inhaled your scent, the smell of sweat, stale shampoo, and campfire smoke better than any perfume he'd ever smelled on a woman.

You were busy enjoying the feeling of his dick slipping between your folds and grinding against your clit, not noticing that he'd wrapped his hand around the base of himself.

Without any sort of warning he pushed himself past your tight ring of muscles, sending a jolt of stabbing pain through your core and down your legs. The action took your breath away and you were momentarily stunned, eyes wide and mouth hanging open as you sucked in a deep gasp.

“Fuck!” You squealed. You grabbed his shoulders and tried to push yourself up along the floor and away from him.

“No, no no-” Daryl groaned and grabbed your hips, pulling you back down on his pelvis, “M'sorry, please.” He peppered the side of your face with messy kisses, much like a pet that knows they did something worthy of punishment. “Fuck, m’so sorry. Don't. Don't.” His upper body laid on top of you, trapping you between the hard floor and his chest. “S'okay. Yer okay.”

You nodded quickly and swallowed the painful lump in your throat. Despite his demanding actions he hadn't moved once fully inside you, allowing you a few seconds to adjust before he was back to his impatient behavior.

Being filled by Daryl Dixon was indescribable. You weren't sure if he was always that thick, or if it was just the effects of the drug, much like the way it had made him produce copious amounts of precum. He stretched you so much it could very easily be uncomfortable if there hadn't been so much lubricant from the two of you.

He pulled out and thrusted back in, slow but deep, and all that original pain melted into equally deep pleasure.

You let your head rest against the tile and tried to ignore the pain of your body being pressed so tightly against the floor.

As hot as floor sex was, your bones were screaming beneath you. As Daryl continued his deep and steady pace you glanced around the room for anything that could help alleviate the uncomfortableness.

“Daryl-” your word broke into a long moan when he suddenly began fucking you much, much faster, his hips slamming forward so quick and rough that your body began sliding up the floor again.

That annoyed Daryl, and he let out a deep growl of annoyance.

“Look.” You nodded your head towards a mat, one that was similar to the ones they'd have in gymnasiums. It was placed on top of one of the back tables, an item that was suspiciously out of place for the type of room you were in.

Daryl lifted your head from your neck. He looked at you for a second before his eyes rose from your face to follow your gaze. He nodded and reluctantly pulled himself out of you. The moment his dick was out he wrapped his fingers around it, pumping himself so fast you were sure he'd give himself a friction burn.

You crossed the room as fast as you could without running, grabbing the suspicious mat and bringing it back over to him.

It wasn't very thick or comfortable, but your bones cried out in relief when you laid down on it. If Daryl wasn't so focused on cramming his dick back inside you he would've appreciated the feeling on his knees as well.

You tossed your head back against the mat as he buried himself inside you with one powerful thrust. Daryl groaned beside your ear as he picked up a slow, but very deep pace. The way he held your hips a few inches above the ground made sure he'd damn near hit your cervix with every thrust.

After a few seconds of trying to adjust yourself so his thrusts wouldn't be too uncomfortable, you were finally able to relax. That only lasted a second, and then you felt something cold and wet on your bottom lip.

Your tongue darted out and licked the liquid, something you surmised to be instinct. You opened your eyes to see Daryl rubbing his forefinger across your lip, the skin of his fingers slightly glistening with wetness.

“What?” You breathed out with furrowed brows.

“Sh-sh-sh.” His shushing only fueled your confusion and you tried to prop yourself up on your elbows.

Daryl simply pushed you back down on your back with an arm across your chest. “S'okay. It'll make it better, promise.”

Your eyes widened with realization. “Why'd you do that?” Your words ended with a groan when he began kissing the base of your jaw, right under your ear. “You didn't need-”

“Feels so good. Trust me.” He nipped your skin with harsh teeth and you squealed behind pursed lips, your eyes squeezing shut.

“Gonna feel so good. Never gonna wanna stop.” He pulled you down harder on his cock and started rolling his hips up into you faster. Your moans increased in volume, hopefully going unheard by anyone else in the building.

Something about the noises you made had Daryl groaning into your skin. They were so primal, your noises of ecstasy completely unfiltered, and he found himself pounding harder into your slick cunt in response.

“Oh god Daryl!” You gasped and clenched around him.

He was certainly right. The drug smeared across your lips had heightened all your senses. You could feel the shape of his tip diving deep inside you, you could feel the enlarged veins on his length, his unruly pubes brushing against your clit.

You could smell all of him, his sweat, his pheromones, his manly musk that had your walls tightening around him.

Daryl's jaw dropped and he snapped his hips forward. “J-jesus!” He gasped. He raised his head from your neck just enough to smash his lips against yours, not giving warning before shoving his thick wet tongue between your lips.

“Gonna cum.” You whimpered into his greedy mouth. He just nodded, not breaking the kiss, and continued fucking you into the gym mat.

“Oh I'm gonna fuckin’ fill this pussy.” He suddenly groaned. The words, something you knew he'd never say without being all sex drugged, had your orgasm bulldozing a moan from your throat. You didn't give a shit that the dirty talk was drug induced, your body wanted him to do exactly that and it was going to ensure he did so.

“Mmm-oh god yes please.” You cried out as your orgasm shook through your body. It was like nothing you'd ever experienced before. Not a single vibrator or toy you'd ever used in your life had made you climax that hard.

Your toes curled until not only your feet cramped but your calves as well. You balled your hands up in the plaid button up over his shoulders, pulling him as tight as possible against your chest.

The noise that left Daryl's mouth had your orgasmic tremors continuing a few more seconds. He pressed his lips against yours again, making you swallow the long and gravelly groan he let out.

His hands squeezed the flesh around your hips and yanked you down on his cock, at the same time thrusting forward as hard as his body would allow. He held your hips tightly in place as he emptied himself within you, letting out occasional groans and growls as he came.

Your head spun as your violent orgasm finally began to subside. You didn't realize you'd been holding your breath, and when you did, you had to break away from his wet mouth to blow out a lungful of hot air.

“Fuck.” He growled. He was still weakly humping between your legs. The room was filled with obscene wet sound, and when you came to your senses, you gasped.

Daryl had come a lot.

So much so that it had spilled out around his cock to pool under your ass on the sweaty mat. You could feel it everywhere, between your folds, coating the raw walls inside you, and all in the crack of your ass.

The wet sticky feeling suddenly became extremely uncomfortable. You let out a weak whimper and tried to wiggle out from under him, but his body was heavy and his grip on your hips was tight.

“Hold on, I gotcha.” He whispered in response to your whimpers. He gave a few more quick kisses of comfort on your sweaty neck, his tongue darting out to lick at the beads dripping down your skin.

The feeling of his hot tongue only made your overstimulation much worse and you groaned, scrunching up your nose and eyebrows and wiggling some more.

“Daryl, they're gonna be back any second now.” You whined.

His movements had stopped by now, thankfully, but your sensitive walls could feel his cock throbbing inside you and you whimpered.

“Jus' a few more seconds.”

You took the time to catch your breath. Before you knew it, Daryl was slowly pulling out.

There was still a lot of cum inside you. When he pulled back most of it gushed out, joining the impressive puddle beneath your ass.

Daryl's jaw dropped when he saw the scene before him. Such a large amount of his cum coating you and still trickling out of your hole, it was enough to make him stop and stare.

“Get me a rag or something.” You reached up to wipe the sweat from your forehead.

The sound of heavy boots coming down the hall let you know there wouldn't be time for any of that.

While you scrambled to get your panties and jeans back on, Daryl stuffed his dick back in his pants and flipped the mat over to hide the massive puddle of semen.

You barely jumped into your shoes when the door was flung open, revealing a panting Rick Grimes and a sweaty Shane.

“Come on. It's clear.” Rick called out and you grabbed your bag from the counter behind you. Daryl snatched up his crossbow and half-jogged half-limped after you.

“You okay?” Andrea asked as you all made your way down the stairs. “You look like you were the one out here fighting the dead.”

“Yeah.” You quickly nodded. “Just, you know, trying not to kill that asshole.”

She groaned and rolled her eyes, clearly buying your poor excuse. “Oh, tell me about it.” She snorted.

You ended up having to wrap a jacket around your waist. When you'd jumped up to put your pants back on, cum practically soaked your thighs and ass and you had no time to even attempt to clean it off. It left you with a massive dark spot on your jeans, and a very uncomfortable feeling the entire drive back to the highway.

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams @daryldove

Aphrodisiac Daryl smut coming soon :D finally finished it! Either really really early Saturday morning or in the evening

Also if you sent a request don't worry I will get to it, I just received quite a few all at once so it's gonna take a few days.

Masterlist

Daryl Dixon

Matchmaker Merle: Smut

Missing Matchmaker Merle: Smut

Teeth and Pearl Earrings: Smut

Teeth and Pearl Earings P2: Smut

Stars in the Dark: Smut

Fingers in your Mouth: NSFW

Three-hour Drive in Two: Smut

Teasing will get you Somewhere: Smut

God Bless the Horny French: Smut

Rick Grimes

Trophies: Smut

Rick and Daryl

And There was only One Bed: Smut

Note

In all of these fanfics the reader is on birth control and none of the characters have STDs because it's my perfect universe and creampies are the bomb dot com.

I don't like writing fics involving pregnancy or kids, but I'd be willing to if the idea is good enough.

Some fics will contain drug and alcohol use, but consent is never an issue in that aspect.

If you want to be added to my tag list, you can comment here, to make it more organized!

saw your post about the “sex drug” trope and had a thought… what if daryl were to find some of those gas station rhino pills while on a supply run 👀

Oh my GOD yes Daryl 100% seems like the type of man that would actually try them especially s1&2!!!! I have no idea what even happens when a dude takes those so I'll have to look into it and see what I come up with

HEATHERMASON6060!!!!!!! YOUR AND THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED FIC WAS FREAK NASTAY IN THE BEST WAY WOWOWOWOWOWOWOW 😵‍💫👏👏

FUCK YEAH!!!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!!! I LOVE FREAK NASTAY

Why is the "I accidentally took a sex drug and desperately need your help" plot so hot and why is there not something in real life

Cause how am I going to implement this in the walking dead universe they don't have potions or spells or mad scientists like resident evil? And how would I get Daryl of all people to be exposed to sex drug ಥ⁠_⁠ಥ

I need to stop using the word "but" so much in my fanfics but I legit cannot think of a better word to use for those sentences help

Tysm I thought the exact same, like it's so so hot but I'm a sucker for making things as realistic as I can, feels like it just makes the fic pop

Rick Grimes x F!Reader x Daryl Dixon Smut: And There was only One Bed

Warnings/Mentions: Smut, unprotected sex, jealous Rick, awkward inexperienced Daryl, dry humping, spooning sex, oral, handjobs (Daryl receiving), staying quiet/fear of being caught, Daryl pretending to be asleep

Summary: Rick, Daryl, and reader get caught out on a storm and take shelter in a small cabin. They're stuck there for the night, and you'll never guess what happens next. THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED

Notes: God this is so hot I don't care that the morals are questionable!!!! I need it more than anything I've ever needed before thank you for requesting anon

Being squished between a snoring Daryl and Rick's hard-on was not how you imagined your night going when you set out that morning.

It was supposed to be a cut and dry intel run. Scope out the new group nearby, learn a few things, maybe grab some supplies on your way back, but no, it's never that easy.

First off, you couldn't find the group. Aaron claimed they were composed of maybe forty people living in the nearby school, but the place was quiet when you'd checked it out.

Then, Rick's truck broke down. Dead battery. Daryl set out looking for one with enough juice to get you home when the first signs of a storm rolled in. Angry dark clouds and cold fat raindrops.

The only place nearby in walking distance was down a long gravel road. It was the smallest, but also the cutest, cabin you'd ever laid eyes on. It only had three rooms, one bedroom with a bathroom, and a large open living area that held a tiny kitchen and a couch with a fireplace.

“Get those windows boarded up.”

Rick was quick to spew out commands after the three of you busted through the front door, all wet and shivering. The wind was so strong it slammed the door closed behind you, blowing the curtains and causing stray paper to fly off their tables.

“Can't!” Daryl shouted. He stood behind you shielding his face from the rain shooting through the broken windows.

That's how you ended up in the bedroom. You sat shivering on the foot of the bed as Rick went through the dresser, looking for clothes to replace the soaking fabric you all wore.

Daryl slid the bedroom vanity in front of the door. He even went as far as to set the armchair on top of it.

“Can we just wait it out?” Your teeth clattered together as Rick tossed you a towel from the closet. You ruffled it in your hair and watched Daryl.

He was standing in front of the only window in the room, his arms crossed and his thumbnail between his teeth.

“Yeah, should ease up soon.” Rick sat on the bed opposite from you, drying his arms and hair with his own towel.

“Naw.” Daryl muttered. He finally turned away from the window and began drying himself. “Gonna be a few hours, at least.”

You furrowed your brows, looking down in your lap. This was quite the predicament. Stuck in a bedroom with two men, one you barely knew and were pretty sure hated you.

The other… Well, you weren't sure what Rick was to you.

Daryl wasn't right, but he wasn't wrong either. The storm did continue for a few hours, but it also didn't show any signs of stopping.

You glanced down at your watch and felt your heart drop. It was seven pm, and the sun would be setting very soon. Not that you could see much outside anyways, the clouds were thick and covered a majority of the sky.

Your voice broke the long streak of silence.

“Are we gonna have to stay here tonight?”

Rick and Daryl had known the answer to that question two hours prior. Neither of them wanted to be the ones to say it, but their lack of direct answers filled you in enough. Rick looked down at his revolver and Daryl continued staring out the window.

“Fuck.” You groaned, sitting back down on the bed. “I promised Maggie we'd watch season two of True Blood tonight.”

“That dog fucker show?” Daryl muttered around his cigarette. He was leaning against the wall next to the window, legs crossed at the ankles, cleaning under his nails with the blade of his knife.

“No Daryl, there's no dog fucking.” You sighed and he just mumbled in response, not looking up from his fingers.

Rick had made himself busy trying to prepare the room for the night.

He'd found a few hurricane lanterns and set two up on the bedside tables, and began anxiously ‘cleaning’. The room only had the bed, dresser, and bedside tables, so there wasn't much he could do besides look in the same drawers over and over.

At some point he went into the small bathroom and shut the door. He stayed there for a couple minutes, doing god knows what.

There were a few clothing items left by the previous owners. Daryl and Rick got some raggedy sweatpants, shirts full of holes that were a little too small for them. You were stuck with a massive piss yellow sweater and the ugliest pair of basketball shorts.

Anything was better than your soaking rags.

The storm had eased up a bit, but that didn't do much in terms of easing your boredom. The sun had long since set, your watch read ten-thirty, and neither man was very talkative.

“I'll take first watch.” Daryl was the first to speak in a while.

“No. I'll do it.” Rick protested. He'd been cleaning his revolver for the last thirty minutes. “I can't sleep anyway.”

“Yeah, well. Neither can I.”

You'd found a box of random items under the bed and had been looking through them while they bickered. A dead Gameboy, random PlayStation controllers, a few comic books, pieces to Monopoly, and an array of broken crayons. There was a pen and a notepad though, so you started drawing a caricature of Daryl.

Angry eyebrows, a cigarette that was half his height in his frowning mouth, and a speech bubble filled with hash tags for explicatives.

“Hey.” You nudged Rick's knee with your elbow. He sat on the bed above where you were, cross-legged on the floor next to your box of bullshit.

He looked down at the paper you showed him, and for the first time that day you saw his lips twitching up into a smirk. His eyes trailed over the paper and he grabbed it from you, bringing it up closer to his face.

“Is that Daryl?” He questioned, and you nodded, a grin splitting across your face.

“That's good.” Rick nodded, shrugging his mouth. “You got a real talent. Looks just like him.”

Daryl was too bored to hide his interest, so he stood from his spot under the bedroom window and walked over to you. He grabbed the notepad from Rick, and you could see his eyes narrowing as he tried to make out your scribbles in the dim lighting.

“Yeah?” Daryl looked up when he heard the two of you stifling giggles and laughter. “Think that's funny? Gimme that.” He snatched the pen from your hands and flipped the page, sitting down on the dresser and scribbling furiously.

The pad was tossed in your lap a minute later. Your eyes widened on the drawing.

It was obviously you. You had on the same sweater, but it went down to your feet instead of your knees, and you were standing beside a cat. The only problem was, the cat was three times taller than you, and you had the ugliest expression on your face. Your mouth hung open and you were nagging the cat about scratching up the furniture. It was based on a scenario that had happened the day before, with your cat back home, Daisy, who you had caught shredding the living room couch.

“Dude, what am I? Two inches tall?” You laughed, handing the paper to Rick. He covered his mouth to hide the smile, but you saw it through his fingers and stood to give him a shove.

“Right, sorry. Drew ya too big. Hold on.” Daryl came over and drew a new stick figure of you so small that it was the size of a real ant.

“Ooookay, fuck you.”

Daryl dogged the small notepad you'd tossed at his face, and started laughing. Actually laughing. Your smile grew softer as he and Rick began to joke. It had been a while since you'd seen either of them behave in such a lighthearted manner. It made the bare bedroom seem not so cold.

Eventually the curtains were drawn and the lanterns dimmed considerably. You'd claimed the only spot on the bed that wasn't lumpy or sunken, which just so happened to be the middle.

No other reason, promise.

For the sake of his joints, Daryl had given up trying to sit on the hard floor and joined you on the bed, claiming the side closest to the window. He'd made sure to put distance between you, so much so that he was nearly hanging off the edge.

Rick had a little more resolve than the other man and stood by the window for a bit, occasionally peeking out the heavy curtains to see the same amount of darkness as before.

“Thank god you showered this morning.” Rick grunted as he sat down on your left, knocking his boots together before he brought his legs up on the bed.

“Me?” You blurted immediately, already feeling the tiniest but of anxiety, Rick never teased you like that. He saved that for the men.

He gave a toothy grin and shook his head. “No. Him.” He pointed over your body to Daryl, who was smoking his third cigarette of the night. “Carol made him take his monthly shower after he came home covered in coyote blood.”

You giggled, glancing over at Daryl.

“Yeah. Laugh it up.” Daryl took a deep drag.

You kicked off your shoes and sat upright, taking off those god awful shorts while the two men continued to playfully insult each other.

Rick caught himself going quiet when he saw you pulling the shorts down your thighs, his mouth drying at the sight. Daryl quickly shot him a look, dragging his attention away from your now bare legs and back onto him.

You didn't notice a thing, but you wished you had. Maybe you'd have started grinding against him earlier that night.

You were the first to fall asleep, to no one's surprise. There were little things that you loved more in life than sleeping.

Curled up underneath the sheets that you'd checked twenty times for bugs, sleep came quick and easy for you.

The sweater you were wearing had become incredibly uncomfortable so you swapped it for Rick's hole ridden T-shirt, leaving him shirtless. The image of his bare chest and the muscles in his back almost gave you enough adrenaline to stay up the entire night, but Daryl's soft breathing and Rick's body heat beside you tugged you unconscious.

Rick was next to give in, he'd kicked his boots off and climbed under the sheets with you, not before sliding a pillow between your bodies, more for your consideration than his modesty. He didn't give a shit, but he was worried you might.

Daryl was last, and by complete accident. He'd meant to take the first watch but the sounds of rain on the roof, gentle thunder outside, and your soft breathing beside him had him out like a light.

Two hours went by before something woke Rick up. The feeling of pressure against his crotch.

He opened his eyes, blinking a few times in a struggle to see, but the room was too dark to immediately recognize his surroundings.

Once he remembered where he was he relaxed. He closed his eyes again and almost fell back to sleep when he felt it.

A gentle nudge of something soft and plush against him, something that made him well aware of the situation in his sweatpants. He was painfully erect.

His eyes opened again, but the room was no easier to see in. He could still hear the sounds of quiet rain and wind, and the new sound of Daryl's soft snoring.

Then you whimpered.

It was quiet, barely audible, and whiny. You were squirming in your sleep, the pillow between the two of you now between your knees, separating them to prevent the annoying feeling of bone on bone.

Your ass moved back against him again. He pulled his hips back, his dick immediately complaining about the loss of contact with a slight twitch. He clenched his teeth together and closed his eyes, willing himself to fall back asleep.

Think about cold showers. You're taking a cold shower, he thought, taking deep breaths. Cold cold shower. She's in a cold shower--- raw potatoes, grub worms, rotten walker flesh, her flesh, her ass is only a few inches away, snug in those cute boyshort underwear-

Daryl let out a sudden louder snort, startling Rick out of his thoughts. His eyes snapped open, only closing once he heard the earlier gentle snores return.

Your movements stilled and he was able to sleep once again, not without an iron will mindset.

You weren't sure how long you'd been sleeping when you woke up. You checked your watch, seeing the green glowing hands pointed at the twelve and nine.

It was only twelve forty-five.

You sighed.

The room had grown colder as the night went on, cold air seeping through the thin cracks in the walls and floorboards.

As a result of said colder temperature, Daryl had moved closer to you, be that in his sleep or on purpose, you didn't know. All you knew was he was there on your right side, his bicep warm and pressed against your upper chest.

Rick had also moved closer. So close, in fact, that his hand was on your waist, resting there like it was the most natural thing in the world to do. Your heart sped up when you realized this, and when he pulled you closer in his sleep you almost gasped.

He was hard.

Like, really hard.

You could feel it behind his sweatpants pressed right into your ass. His breathing was slow and deep, letting you know that he was definitely asleep, not that the knowledge did much to stop the arousal filling your chest.

You couldn't stop the whimper that sounded deep in your throat. Daryl's snoring covered it, or you thought it did. Rick stirred behind you and you heard the sound of him sniffing sleepily.

He had to be awake, you were sure of it. His breathing had become quiet, much different than the sounds of someone who was deep in sleep. He made no move to pull his hand away from your hip, confusing you even further.

Maybe he wasn't awake.

A lightbulb went off. You wiggled your hips, very slightly, only a few millimeters side to side. It was enough to gain a reaction from him, which let you know that he was definitely awake.

Rick's grip tightened on your hip.

Then he pushed into you.

There was nothing you could've done to prepare yourself for that kind of response. You sucked in a breath and felt your pussy throb. It was such a faint and quick movement, but you could vividly feel the shape of his dick pressing against your ass.

You heard movement behind you, the sound of his stubble scraping across his pillow as he moved his lips to your ear, speaking barely above a whisper.

“Stay still.”

Your eyes flicked to Daryls face.

You could barely see the outline of his head illuminated in moonlight thanks to the parting clouds. His nose pointed up at the ceiling, his lips parted as he breathed.

A wave of heat traveled through your body, starting in your chest and shooting down to your core. You felt that flipping sensation in your lower stomach and you whimpered again, rubbing your thighs together.

Rick inhaled deeply through his nose at the action. His hand shifted upwards, moving over your hip and splaying over the curve of your waist. He could feel you pressed against him, even if you weren't moving, and it made him groan faintly.

The sound of him groaning sent another spark through your core. You couldn't help it, you arched your back just enough to feel friction. You were too weak willed.

“Sweetheart.” He breathed, his forehead resting against the back of your hair to try and steady himself. “You gotta stop, please.”

He hated how desperate and wrecked the whispered words came from his lips. Hated how his dick was aching in his boxer briefs.

Hated how he was just as weak willed as you, his hips moving forward in a way that betrayed his words and stomped them in the mud.

You couldn't understand why you were so unbearably aroused. You weren't a teenager going through puberty. You've had partners.

Sure, you had a little admiration-fueled crush on the two men, but the way your body was behaving was animalistic. Your heart felt like it was going to burst through your chest and your pussy was soaked.

If only you had your vibrator that was back in Alexandria, you'd orgasm in five seconds, you knew that for a fucking fact.

Daryl muttered a nonsensical sentence in his sleep, his head lolling over in the direction of the window. His right arm rose to lay over his chest, and his left leg spread out in your direction.

His knee bumped against the top of your thighs, almost slipping between them.

You could've screamed.

You tried to stay still, really, you did. But the feeling of Rick pushing against you again, Daryl's knee nudging between your thighs, it was impossible. You moved your hips, intending on just pushing back against Rick but your action also succeeded in grinding down right on Daryl's knee.

Rick could feel resistance in your movement but his mind couldn't focus on anything but the feel of your plush ass pressing against his dick.

His blood ran cold at the sound of Daryl mumbling in his sleep again. He held his breath, waiting with baited breath to see if he'd stir awake.

Relief flooded his body after a moment of silence, and he pressed his face back into your hair. There was still a faint smell of shampoo or conditioner despite the earlier rain. The feminine smell made his dick twitch and he flexed his jaw.

You were caught between excitement and horror. Daryl's knee was wedged right between your thighs, and occasionally it would jerk up against you. Each time it would make you fight away a gasp, and make your clit throb.

Daryl was definitely asleep, right? If he woke up he'd roll over on his side, right? There was no way he was awake, pushing his knee right up against your pussy, right?

You reached down to grab Rick's hand, which was still resting against your waist, gripping onto his fingers for support. His fingers curled around your own and sent butterflies in your stomach at the feeling of comfort.

He hated himself for all of it, but in the moment, he felt like he didn't care. His hips rocked against yours, once, twice, the need to get relief clouding all judgment he was capable of having.

You couldn't help yourself either. Your eyes fluttered shut and you rolled your hips, soft and slow, against Rick's bulge and Daryl's knee. You'd tried several times to push it away, wiggle back further into Rick, but it was like there was a goddamn super magnet attached to your clit and his knee cap.

You bit down hard against your lip, trying to keep your voice from escaping. Everything felt so good, Rick dry humping his heart out, your clit buzzing, it all felt so overwhelmingly amazing that you hadn't even noticed Daryl's snoring was no longer present.

In the end, it wasn't enough, Rick was being too cautious. You needed more, just a little bit. You pushed back hard against him and heard his breath hitch in his throat. His hand gripped yours so tight it almost hurt, and he leaned into your ear.

“Movin’ too much. Stop.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. You shook your head, your lip trembling between your teeth.

“Can't.” You breathed. You physically couldn't stop, you knew that and Rick knew that. You were both so close to relief, you'd already gotten this far, there was no point in stopping now. No going back.

Rick swallowed hard as he felt his resolve break at the way you and your body pleaded. It was all he needed. His hips moved a bit faster, a bit rougher. His hand left yours and grabbed the string of his sweatpants, fingertips pinching the ends, hesitating only for a second before he pulled.

Time seemed to literally freeze when you felt him digging his cock out behind you. Your heart stopped, your breathing stopped, and so did the grinding of your pelvis. You couldn't think. It was suddenly all too very real.

You didn't expect Rick to do something like this. The dry humping, sure. He was horny and it wasn't really that big of a deal. But this? Tugging down your underwear? Spitting on his hand and stroking his dick to get it wet for you? It felt like a dream and way too terrifying at the same time.

“Sweetheart…” His hot breath against your ear snapped you back to reality. “You… you gotta be quiet, okay? Promise?”

You'd never nodded so quickly and eagerly in your life. Your heart felt like it was literally up in your throat. The tight knot in your core became more and more taut, and it trembled when you felt the hot tip of his wet dick bump between your folds.

Rick nearly came when he felt how wet you were. It was mind blowing, you were fucking soaked. The hot lube was covering your pussy and trailing down the side of your ass, reaching his hip bone.

You inhaled deeply when you felt him start to push in. You'd think with how wet you were it would be easy, but your muscles were wound tight due to the nearly paralyzing fear of possibly waking Daryl.

There was a bit of self disgust when you felt the weight of reality sinking in. The absolute pathetic degeneracy of what you were doing with Daryl right next to you.

That self disgust faded when Rick pushed into you.

Rick swallowed a groan as his cock dug up into you, your walls hot and soft and squeezing the life out of him. He could feel how nervous you were so he slipped an arm over your side, his hand reaching for your own again.

You moaned.

His hand broke from your grip and clamped over your mouth. Neither of you moved for a solid minute.

It was the longest minute in history. You could feel his dick twitching inside of you, your clit throbbing so hard you thought it was going to have its own little heart attack.

Your thighs absentmindedly squeezed against Daryl's knee, and you were sure you'd start crying.

Finally, Rick began moving. His breathing was growing heavy behind your head, his face burying back into the mess of hair in front of him.

His movements were slow at first. Tantalizingly slow. He waited until he was sure you could stay quiet before picking up the pace.

Your eyes had adjusted a fair amount in the darkness. You looked up to Daryl, finding comfort when you saw his eyes were still closed, but he'd stopped snoring long ago.

You dismissed it and grabbed onto the wrist of the hand covering your mouth, gripping tight for support.

Your right hand slipped under the sheets to rest on your thigh, but instead landed on Daryl's lower thigh. He must've been a very heavy sleeper, because he didn't react to it beyond the muscles tensing under your palm.

The sound that escaped Rick's lips had your eyes rolling back into your head. A trembling whimper. His movements grew quicker and deeper, his dick dragging your walls against him, pulling out every drop of arousal he could and thrusting it back in.

Your mind spun as all thoughts left your brain. There was nothing going on up there anymore, just dark blackness, the feeling of Rick fucking you taking over your conscious body.

His hand grabbed yours, the one on Daryl's knee, and pulled it away from you, to the right.

When your fingers brushed up against something warm and soft, you didn't question it. You didn't even question his fingers moving yours to wrap around his dick.

Your eyes shot open.

Rick's dick was still inside you. His right hand was still on your mouth, his left on the small of your back.

Daryl's eyes were open, and looking right into yours.

You went to jerk your hand away out of reflex, but his grip was tight, forcing your fingers to stay wrapped around his thick cock. Your eyes flew over him, fighting to understand what was happening, when had he woken up? Just then? Or was he awake when he pushed his knee between your thighs?

The orgasm that came out of nowhere pushed all those questions aside.

You moaned against Rick's hand as you came, no longer trying to be quiet, no longer trying to keep your hips still. Your thighs clamped down on Daryl's knee, grinding rough and quick.

Much to Rick's absolute heart-stopping horror.

He tried to muffle your moans, forcing his hand down painfully hard on your mouth, but it did little. He bared his teeth near your ear and hissed for you to stop, the sound sharp and jarring as it came through his clenched teeth, but then his eyes landed on the scene over your body.

Daryl using your hand to stroke his dick. Daryl with his other arm bent behind his head, his face tilted to the side to watch your expressions with parted lips.

It took Rick a few seconds to recover from the near heart attack. He almost lost his boner from the heart dropping adrenaline, but your wet walls spasming around him coaxed his hips forward.

Now that you didn't need to be quiet you pulled Rick's hand off your mouth and gasped down a lungful of air. Your mouth was hot and dry, and it was hard to swallow.

You couldn't take your eyes off Daryl, his eyes, the eyes that hadn't left your face since he woke up.

God, he was unbelievably sexy. The way he was so responsive to your touch led you to believe your hand might possibly be the first hand to touch his dick other than his own.

He grunted softly, his eyes finally falling shut after you gently squeezed the base of his dick. You'd be content to get him off with one hand like you had been for the past few minutes, but you couldn't resist the urge to give him his first hand job and blowjob.

“Up.” You panted. You curled your finger at Daryl, pointing up. He happily obliged and sat upright, scooting up towards the headboard until his lap was right in front of your face.

He seemed absolutely thrilled, ecstatic even. His once heavy eyes were now wide open, watching every move you made as you shifted your upper half so your mouth could reach his dick.

Rick was still thrusting with hesitation when you moved. He watched you lick broad stripes on the underside of Daryl's dick, and he couldn't help but glance at his face to see his reaction.

Mouth hanging open, eyes clenched tightly shut, his expression almost looked pained. His hands had found their way to your hair, gripping two handfuls as he began trying to move your head for you.

You slapped his hands away and grabbed his wrists, an action that had his eyes opening and looking down at you.

“Don't.” Your hot breath tickled the sensitive skin of his tip. He pinched both his lips shut between his teeth, nodding quickly, a shaky closed-lip moan rattling in his throat.

Rick finally got ahold of himself and grabbed your hips to turn your lower half on your stomach. He kept his dick inside you as he slid on top of you, his knees spreading to rest on either side of your thighs.

You were taking Daryl's head past your lips when Rick suddenly fucked you like he'd been wanting to the entire time. Both his hands rested on the small of your back, pushing your hips down into the mattress with all his weight to keep them firmly in place.

You gasped around Daryl at the feeling of Rick pounding into you from above. It was a comically drastic change from only five minutes before when he thought Daryl was asleep.

Daryl's wrists flexed in your hands where you had them pressed against his lower stomach. You knew he was only keeping them there in your grasp because he allowed it, and not because you were somehow strong enough to keep even a single wrist of his in your fist, let alone two.

It took a lot of effort on Rick's part to actually finish. Having Daryl in the room when you fucked was one thing, but having him making all that noise just from your mouth was another.

He was honestly more surprised that Daryl actually enjoyed sex acts than the fact he was engaging in them with him in the room. With no one other than you, a girl he almost never saw him interact with.

Rick had assumed Daryl simply wasn't interested. Incorrectly assumed.

Either way, having Daryl only a few feet away from him while he had his dick inside you was something he wasn't sure he enjoyed. But the way you clenched around him every time he pulled back was enough to make him forget about it.

Daryl was struggling to keep himself together. He had no point of reference, but he thought you were incredibly talented at giving head. You were giving it your all, sucking and licking like your life depended on it. It was impressive how well you were managing to concentrate on blowing him with Rick making such a mess of your pussy.

You couldn't be happier. You knew there were so many women back in Alexandria that would kill to be in your position, lying in front of the Daryl Dixon, lying under the Rick Grimes, both of their dicks inside you.

“Wa-wait.” Daryl suddenly sputtered and ripped his wrists from your hands to cup the sides of your face, giving a few gentle slaps with the tips of his fingers.

You looked up, not taking your mouth off of him. His expression made your pussy clench around Rick and he groaned behind you, the sound raw and deep. He shifted his hips and ground down against you, quick and rough, his tip jabbing deep inside you.

The ragged moan you let out reverberated through Daryl, and the hand you had around his base gave a trembling squeeze.

“M’boutta, Jesus! Hey, oh, godfuckindamnit-” Daryl's jaw dropped and his eyes rolled back, his head tipping backwards as he made that same pained expression and came down your throat.

Your hips were roughly jerked up from the bed, shoving you back on Rick's dick, and then his hands slipped under your armpits to pull up your top half.

It was hard to stay upright, but thankfully Rick was generous enough to provide you the luxury of his hands tight against your tits, keeping your back flush against his chest.

Oh, it was a goddamn shame Daryl had just come. The sight in front of him was something he knew millions would pay- no, kill- to see. You looked breathtaking. Rick had taken your shirt off some time ago, leaving you completely bare as you kneeled in front of Daryl.

He forgot to breathe as he watched your face, slack in pleasure. You were struggling to keep your eyes open and on him, something that made his softening cock twitch. All that struggling just to look at someone like him? The hell did he deserve to have someone like you looking at him like that?

Rick deserved praise for the way he supported your weight with just his hands, keeping your entire upper half pressed against his chest while he fucked you in desperate effort to finally get off. His dick felt raw from how long he'd been at it, his balls throbbing from the delayed orgasm, it was a wonder he was able to keep himself upright, let alone you.

“Daryl.” The way you whimpered his name made his cock jump back to life, and he pushed himself up on his elbows to look up at you, eager to obey whatever it was you were about to ask.

“Yeah?” He rasped as he stared up at you.

You'd placed your hands over Rick's and moved his fingers over your nipples, which he was pinching and rolling, something he understood without you even needing to ask.

“Touch me, please.”

You didn't need to ask twice. Daryl inched down the bed and kept himself propped up on one elbow, his other arm sliding over his chest to reach your clit.

Rick decided at that moment he definitely didn't like threesomes. Feeling you twist and hearing you moan due to Daryl's thumb rubbing against you made his chest and face hot, a childish reaction considering you and Rick were not a thing, and certainly not an exclusive thing.

He just wasn't good at sharing.

The silly jealousy led to him putting his all into pleasing you. His thrusts became slower but deeper, more forceful, knocking out a gravely groan from your throat with each one. His hands left your breasts to tangle in your hair, pulling it up into a makeshift ponytail with his fist being the hair tie.

Your skin buzzed when he pressed his face into your neck to plant sloppy kisses. He bit down and you whined, arching your back against him and tilting your head to the side to provide him better access.

Unlike Rick, Daryl didn't have a care in the world. His mind was completely blank as he stared up at you above him, oblivious to the way his thumb cramped from the constant circles he rubbed into you.

“C'mere.” You breathed, wrapping your fingers in Daryl's hair to urge him up and guide his mouth to your nipples.

Daryl's eagerness to please was one of the hottest things you'd ever witnessed. He took your right nipple in his mouth and went to town like his life depended on it.

He flexed his tongue, digging the firm and wet muscle around your bud, circling it the same way his thumb now circled your clit.

Your orgasm came screeching out of nowhere.

You cried out and gripped Daryl's head tighter, pulling his mouth firm against your breast as you came.

The feeling of your walls squeezing the life out of his cock finally brought about Rick's own climax.

He wrapped his fist around the hair bundled in his grasp and tugged your head to the side, baring your neck to his itching teeth, and clamped down as he gave a rough thrust.

You'd failed to notice that at some point Daryl had grown hard again, only noticing when he let out a ragged moan into your wet chest.

Your bleary eyes found him and caught sight of his hand quickly jerking himself. There was the flash of thick cum spurting out, long ropes coating the inside of your thighs.

“Fuck.” You slurred. Now that was the new hottest thing you'd ever seen.

Rick's teeth released their grip on your neck. He pulled back and let his head droop back as he caught his breath, his shoulders heaving with deep and ragged pants. He became aware of how uncomfortably sweaty he was. His chest and back felt soaked, and he dropped your hair to pull away from you.

You heard Rick plop down on the bed behind you, the springs creaking from his sudden weight dropping on it all at once. You were too busy admiring Daryl to pay attention to it.

There was a lazy smile on your face, your eyes half lidded and glued to his face. Even though the room was dark you were sure you could see how red his cheeks were. His lips were glossy and parted as he took in deep breaths, still wet from drooling all over your tits.

He could barely keep his eyes open, and with the way you had one hand cupping his face, the other brushing back his sweaty hair, he wasn't sure he wanted to. The sweet way you were looking down at him was just too hard to look away from.

The next morning wasn't as awkward as one would think, even though it was obvious Rick was having some internal battle on the ethics of what he'd done the night before. He'd never been in a situation where he knew he really shouldn't be doing something like that, so his lack of restraint was new knowledge he'd have to ponder over.

Daryl couldn't give any less of a fuck, that morning he gave you the whole princess treatment. Grabbing your now dry clothes, your bag, your shoes, and bringing them to you. Offered you the last of his water and opened every door you came across for you. He didn't say much at all, much like Rick, but his mood was clearly the exact opposite.

It was so sweet it made your heart ache.

“Hey.” Rick pulled you aside after you finally got back home, shooting Daryl a look to give the two of you privacy.

“Hi.” You smiled. The stern look on his face was cute.

“What we did-”

“Don't.” You stopped him, giving the man a tired smile. “It was the sexiest thing I've ever done and I'm fine with it being a one time thing, but don't ruin it and tell me it was wrong.”

“I wasn't going to say that.” His gaze had softened, but he still looked down at you with his hands on his hips like a disappointed authority figure. “I just don't want you to think it's okay to bring up if we're all alone again.”

“I'm not stupid.” You snorted, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. “Won't bring it up again.”

He sighed in frustration, trying not to roll his eyes but failing. “No, it ain't that either. Let's just- next time,” your eyes widened, “not be as spontaneous.”

You grinned. “Alright. You got it.”

Daryl was nowhere near as reserved about the experience. You could understand Rick's point of view, conservative family man, that was probably the most extreme thing he'd ever done in bed. But Daryl, oh, you'd just changed his fucking world.

“Pst.”

You stopped in front of the bathroom to see Daryl nodding you over, lighting a cigarette as he stood near the door to his room.

“Hi.” You smiled after approaching him.

“You okay?”

You beamed at the question, shifting your pile of clothes in your arms. “Yeah, I'm okay. Are you?”

He nodded as he took the first pull, turning his head to blow the smoke away from your face. “Is, uh…” He nodded his head to the front door, where Rick still stood on the porch talking to a few people. “He alright?”

“He's fine.”

“Alright. Good.” He shifted awkwardly. He cleared his throat, looking down at the cherry on his cigarette before bringing it back up to his lips. “That somethin' you wanna do again?”

You pursed your lips in an attempt to hide the ecstatic smile that threatened to embarrass you, and nodded.

He let out a breath that sounded like a laugh of relief and disbelief. There were a few seconds of silence, his eyes darting between his cigarette and your face. “With me?”

“Of course. Maybe next time just you.” You turned to head back to the bathroom but quickly turned on your heel and walked back to him. “Daryl? When did you,” you struggled to get the words out, ironic considering how bold youd been the night before, “you know, wake up?”

“Oh.” He grunted, his ears burning. “Dunno. While before.”

You felt a mix of embarrassment and relief. So he had pushed his knee between your legs on purpose. The thought had your stomach flipping and your face getting warm, so you gave a quick and polite smile before running off to the bathroom.

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams @jinx-nanami

Rick Grimes x F!Reader x Daryl Dixon Smut: And There was only One Bed

Warnings/Mentions: Smut, unprotected sex, jealous Rick, awkward inexperienced Daryl, dry humping, spooning sex, oral, handjobs (Daryl receiving), staying quiet/fear of being caught, Daryl pretending to be asleep

Summary: Rick, Daryl, and reader get caught out on a storm and take shelter in a small cabin. They're stuck there for the night, and you'll never guess what happens next. THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED

Notes: God this is so hot I don't care that the morals are questionable!!!! I need it more than anything I've ever needed before thank you for requesting anon

Being squished between a snoring Daryl and Rick's hard-on was not how you imagined your night going when you set out that morning.

It was supposed to be a cut and dry intel run. Scope out the new group nearby, learn a few things, maybe grab some supplies on your way back, but no, it's never that easy.

First off, you couldn't find the group. Aaron claimed they were composed of maybe forty people living in the nearby school, but the place was quiet when you'd checked it out.

Then, Rick's truck broke down. Dead battery. Daryl set out looking for one with enough juice to get you home when the first signs of a storm rolled in. Angry dark clouds and cold fat raindrops.

The only place nearby in walking distance was down a long gravel road. It was the smallest, but also the cutest, cabin you'd ever laid eyes on. It only had three rooms, one bedroom with a bathroom, and a large open living area that held a tiny kitchen and a couch with a fireplace.

“Get those windows boarded up.”

Rick was quick to spew out commands after the three of you busted through the front door, all wet and shivering. The wind was so strong it slammed the door closed behind you, blowing the curtains and causing stray paper to fly off their tables.

“Can't!” Daryl shouted. He stood behind you shielding his face from the rain shooting through the broken windows.

That's how you ended up in the bedroom. You sat shivering on the foot of the bed as Rick went through the dresser, looking for clothes to replace the soaking fabric you all wore.

Daryl slid the bedroom vanity in front of the door. He even went as far as to set the armchair on top of it.

“Can we just wait it out?” Your teeth clattered together as Rick tossed you a towel from the closet. You ruffled it in your hair and watched Daryl.

He was standing in front of the only window in the room, his arms crossed and his thumbnail between his teeth.

“Yeah, should ease up soon.” Rick sat on the bed opposite from you, drying his arms and hair with his own towel.

“Naw.” Daryl muttered. He finally turned away from the window and began drying himself. “Gonna be a few hours, at least.”

You furrowed your brows, looking down in your lap. This was quite the predicament. Stuck in a bedroom with two men, one you barely knew and were pretty sure hated you.

The other… Well, you weren't sure what Rick was to you.

Daryl wasn't right, but he wasn't wrong either. The storm did continue for a few hours, but it also didn't show any signs of stopping.

You glanced down at your watch and felt your heart drop. It was seven pm, and the sun would be setting very soon. Not that you could see much outside anyways, the clouds were thick and covered a majority of the sky.

Your voice broke the long streak of silence.

“Are we gonna have to stay here tonight?”

Rick and Daryl had known the answer to that question two hours prior. Neither of them wanted to be the ones to say it, but their lack of direct answers filled you in enough. Rick looked down at his revolver and Daryl continued staring out the window.

“Fuck.” You groaned, sitting back down on the bed. “I promised Maggie we'd watch season two of True Blood tonight.”

“That dog fucker show?” Daryl muttered around his cigarette. He was leaning against the wall next to the window, legs crossed at the ankles, cleaning under his nails with the blade of his knife.

“No Daryl, there's no dog fucking.” You sighed and he just mumbled in response, not looking up from his fingers.

Rick had made himself busy trying to prepare the room for the night.

He'd found a few hurricane lanterns and set two up on the bedside tables, and began anxiously ‘cleaning’. The room only had the bed, dresser, and bedside tables, so there wasn't much he could do besides look in the same drawers over and over.

At some point he went into the small bathroom and shut the door. He stayed there for a couple minutes, doing god knows what.

There were a few clothing items left by the previous owners. Daryl and Rick got some raggedy sweatpants, shirts full of holes that were a little too small for them. You were stuck with a massive piss yellow sweater and the ugliest pair of basketball shorts.

Anything was better than your soaking rags.

The storm had eased up a bit, but that didn't do much in terms of easing your boredom. The sun had long since set, your watch read ten-thirty, and neither man was very talkative.

“I'll take first watch.” Daryl was the first to speak in a while.

“No. I'll do it.” Rick protested. He'd been cleaning his revolver for the last thirty minutes. “I can't sleep anyway.”

“Yeah, well. Neither can I.”

You'd found a box of random items under the bed and had been looking through them while they bickered. A dead Gameboy, random PlayStation controllers, a few comic books, pieces to Monopoly, and an array of broken crayons. There was a pen and a notepad though, so you started drawing a caricature of Daryl.

Angry eyebrows, a cigarette that was half his height in his frowning mouth, and a speech bubble filled with hash tags for explicatives.

“Hey.” You nudged Rick's knee with your elbow. He sat on the bed above where you were, cross-legged on the floor next to your box of bullshit.

He looked down at the paper you showed him, and for the first time that day you saw his lips twitching up into a smirk. His eyes trailed over the paper and he grabbed it from you, bringing it up closer to his face.

“Is that Daryl?” He questioned, and you nodded, a grin splitting across your face.

“That's good.” Rick nodded, shrugging his mouth. “You got a real talent. Looks just like him.”

Daryl was too bored to hide his interest, so he stood from his spot under the bedroom window and walked over to you. He grabbed the notepad from Rick, and you could see his eyes narrowing as he tried to make out your scribbles in the dim lighting.

“Yeah?” Daryl looked up when he heard the two of you stifling giggles and laughter. “Think that's funny? Gimme that.” He snatched the pen from your hands and flipped the page, sitting down on the dresser and scribbling furiously.

The pad was tossed in your lap a minute later. Your eyes widened on the drawing.

It was obviously you. You had on the same sweater, but it went down to your feet instead of your knees, and you were standing beside a cat. The only problem was, the cat was three times taller than you, and you had the ugliest expression on your face. Your mouth hung open and you were nagging the cat about scratching up the furniture. It was based on a scenario that had happened the day before, with your cat back home, Daisy, who you had caught shredding the living room couch.

“Dude, what am I? Two inches tall?” You laughed, handing the paper to Rick. He covered his mouth to hide the smile, but you saw it through his fingers and stood to give him a shove.

“Right, sorry. Drew ya too big. Hold on.” Daryl came over and drew a new stick figure of you so small that it was the size of a real ant.

“Ooookay, fuck you.”

Daryl dogged the small notepad you'd tossed at his face, and started laughing. Actually laughing. Your smile grew softer as he and Rick began to joke. It had been a while since you'd seen either of them behave in such a lighthearted manner. It made the bare bedroom seem not so cold.

Eventually the curtains were drawn and the lanterns dimmed considerably. You'd claimed the only spot on the bed that wasn't lumpy or sunken, which just so happened to be the middle.

No other reason, promise.

For the sake of his joints, Daryl had given up trying to sit on the hard floor and joined you on the bed, claiming the side closest to the window. He'd made sure to put distance between you, so much so that he was nearly hanging off the edge.

Rick had a little more resolve than the other man and stood by the window for a bit, occasionally peeking out the heavy curtains to see the same amount of darkness as before.

“Thank god you showered this morning.” Rick grunted as he sat down on your left, knocking his boots together before he brought his legs up on the bed.

“Me?” You blurted immediately, already feeling the tiniest but of anxiety, Rick never teased you like that. He saved that for the men.

He gave a toothy grin and shook his head. “No. Him.” He pointed over your body to Daryl, who was smoking his third cigarette of the night. “Carol made him take his monthly shower after he came home covered in coyote blood.”

You giggled, glancing over at Daryl.

“Yeah. Laugh it up.” Daryl took a deep drag.

You kicked off your shoes and sat upright, taking off those god awful shorts while the two men continued to playfully insult each other.

Rick caught himself going quiet when he saw you pulling the shorts down your thighs, his mouth drying at the sight. Daryl quickly shot him a look, dragging his attention away from your now bare legs and back onto him.

You didn't notice a thing, but you wished you had. Maybe you'd have started grinding against him earlier that night.

You were the first to fall asleep, to no one's surprise. There were little things that you loved more in life than sleeping.

Curled up underneath the sheets that you'd checked twenty times for bugs, sleep came quick and easy for you.

The sweater you were wearing had become incredibly uncomfortable so you swapped it for Rick's hole ridden T-shirt, leaving him shirtless. The image of his bare chest and the muscles in his back almost gave you enough adrenaline to stay up the entire night, but Daryl's soft breathing and Rick's body heat beside you tugged you unconscious.

Rick was next to give in, he'd kicked his boots off and climbed under the sheets with you, not before sliding a pillow between your bodies, more for your consideration than his modesty. He didn't give a shit, but he was worried you might.

Daryl was last, and by complete accident. He'd meant to take the first watch but the sounds of rain on the roof, gentle thunder outside, and your soft breathing beside him had him out like a light.

Two hours went by before something woke Rick up. The feeling of pressure against his crotch.

He opened his eyes, blinking a few times in a struggle to see, but the room was too dark to immediately recognize his surroundings.

Once he remembered where he was he relaxed. He closed his eyes again and almost fell back to sleep when he felt it.

A gentle nudge of something soft and plush against him, something that made him well aware of the situation in his sweatpants. He was painfully erect.

His eyes opened again, but the room was no easier to see in. He could still hear the sounds of quiet rain and wind, and the new sound of Daryl's soft snoring.

Then you whimpered.

It was quiet, barely audible, and whiny. You were squirming in your sleep, the pillow between the two of you now between your knees, separating them to prevent the annoying feeling of bone on bone.

Your ass moved back against him again. He pulled his hips back, his dick immediately complaining about the loss of contact with a slight twitch. He clenched his teeth together and closed his eyes, willing himself to fall back asleep.

Think about cold showers. You're taking a cold shower, he thought, taking deep breaths. Cold cold shower. She's in a cold shower--- raw potatoes, grub worms, rotten walker flesh, her flesh, her ass is only a few inches away, snug in those cute boyshort underwear-

Daryl let out a sudden louder snort, startling Rick out of his thoughts. His eyes snapped open, only closing once he heard the earlier gentle snores return.

Your movements stilled and he was able to sleep once again, not without an iron will mindset.

You weren't sure how long you'd been sleeping when you woke up. You checked your watch, seeing the green glowing hands pointed at the twelve and nine.

It was only twelve forty-five.

You sighed.

The room had grown colder as the night went on, cold air seeping through the thin cracks in the walls and floorboards.

As a result of said colder temperature, Daryl had moved closer to you, be that in his sleep or on purpose, you didn't know. All you knew was he was there on your right side, his bicep warm and pressed against your upper chest.

Rick had also moved closer. So close, in fact, that his hand was on your waist, resting there like it was the most natural thing in the world to do. Your heart sped up when you realized this, and when he pulled you closer in his sleep you almost gasped.

He was hard.

Like, really hard.

You could feel it behind his sweatpants pressed right into your ass. His breathing was slow and deep, letting you know that he was definitely asleep, not that the knowledge did much to stop the arousal filling your chest.

You couldn't stop the whimper that sounded deep in your throat. Daryl's snoring covered it, or you thought it did. Rick stirred behind you and you heard the sound of him sniffing sleepily.

He had to be awake, you were sure of it. His breathing had become quiet, much different than the sounds of someone who was deep in sleep. He made no move to pull his hand away from your hip, confusing you even further.

Maybe he wasn't awake.

A lightbulb went off. You wiggled your hips, very slightly, only a few millimeters side to side. It was enough to gain a reaction from him, which let you know that he was definitely awake.

Rick's grip tightened on your hip.

Then he pushed into you.

There was nothing you could've done to prepare yourself for that kind of response. You sucked in a breath and felt your pussy throb. It was such a faint and quick movement, but you could vividly feel the shape of his dick pressing against your ass.

You heard movement behind you, the sound of his stubble scraping across his pillow as he moved his lips to your ear, speaking barely above a whisper.

“Stay still.”

Your eyes flicked to Daryls face.

You could barely see the outline of his head illuminated in moonlight thanks to the parting clouds. His nose pointed up at the ceiling, his lips parted as he breathed.

A wave of heat traveled through your body, starting in your chest and shooting down to your core. You felt that flipping sensation in your lower stomach and you whimpered again, rubbing your thighs together.

Rick inhaled deeply through his nose at the action. His hand shifted upwards, moving over your hip and splaying over the curve of your waist. He could feel you pressed against him, even if you weren't moving, and it made him groan faintly.

The sound of him groaning sent another spark through your core. You couldn't help it, you arched your back just enough to feel friction. You were too weak willed.

“Sweetheart.” He breathed, his forehead resting against the back of your hair to try and steady himself. “You gotta stop, please.”

He hated how desperate and wrecked the whispered words came from his lips. Hated how his dick was aching in his boxer briefs.

Hated how he was just as weak willed as you, his hips moving forward in a way that betrayed his words and stomped them in the mud.

You couldn't understand why you were so unbearably aroused. You weren't a teenager going through puberty. You've had partners.

Sure, you had a little admiration-fueled crush on the two men, but the way your body was behaving was animalistic. Your heart felt like it was going to burst through your chest and your pussy was soaked.

If only you had your vibrator that was back in Alexandria, you'd orgasm in five seconds, you knew that for a fucking fact.

Daryl muttered a nonsensical sentence in his sleep, his head lolling over in the direction of the window. His right arm rose to lay over his chest, and his left leg spread out in your direction.

His knee bumped against the top of your thighs, almost slipping between them.

You could've screamed.

You tried to stay still, really, you did. But the feeling of Rick pushing against you again, Daryl's knee nudging between your thighs, it was impossible. You moved your hips, intending on just pushing back against Rick but your action also succeeded in grinding down right on Daryl's knee.

Rick could feel resistance in your movement but his mind couldn't focus on anything but the feel of your plush ass pressing against his dick.

His blood ran cold at the sound of Daryl mumbling in his sleep again. He held his breath, waiting with baited breath to see if he'd stir awake.

Relief flooded his body after a moment of silence, and he pressed his face back into your hair. There was still a faint smell of shampoo or conditioner despite the earlier rain. The feminine smell made his dick twitch and he flexed his jaw.

You were caught between excitement and horror. Daryl's knee was wedged right between your thighs, and occasionally it would jerk up against you. Each time it would make you fight away a gasp, and make your clit throb.

Daryl was definitely asleep, right? If he woke up he'd roll over on his side, right? There was no way he was awake, pushing his knee right up against your pussy, right?

You reached down to grab Rick's hand, which was still resting against your waist, gripping onto his fingers for support. His fingers curled around your own and sent butterflies in your stomach at the feeling of comfort.

He hated himself for all of it, but in the moment, he felt like he didn't care. His hips rocked against yours, once, twice, the need to get relief clouding all judgment he was capable of having.

You couldn't help yourself either. Your eyes fluttered shut and you rolled your hips, soft and slow, against Rick's bulge and Daryl's knee. You'd tried several times to push it away, wiggle back further into Rick, but it was like there was a goddamn super magnet attached to your clit and his knee cap.

You bit down hard against your lip, trying to keep your voice from escaping. Everything felt so good, Rick dry humping his heart out, your clit buzzing, it all felt so overwhelmingly amazing that you hadn't even noticed Daryl's snoring was no longer present.

In the end, it wasn't enough, Rick was being too cautious. You needed more, just a little bit. You pushed back hard against him and heard his breath hitch in his throat. His hand gripped yours so tight it almost hurt, and he leaned into your ear.

“Movin’ too much. Stop.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. You shook your head, your lip trembling between your teeth.

“Can't.” You breathed. You physically couldn't stop, you knew that and Rick knew that. You were both so close to relief, you'd already gotten this far, there was no point in stopping now. No going back.

Rick swallowed hard as he felt his resolve break at the way you and your body pleaded. It was all he needed. His hips moved a bit faster, a bit rougher. His hand left yours and grabbed the string of his sweatpants, fingertips pinching the ends, hesitating only for a second before he pulled.

Time seemed to literally freeze when you felt him digging his cock out behind you. Your heart stopped, your breathing stopped, and so did the grinding of your pelvis. You couldn't think. It was suddenly all too very real.

You didn't expect Rick to do something like this. The dry humping, sure. He was horny and it wasn't really that big of a deal. But this? Tugging down your underwear? Spitting on his hand and stroking his dick to get it wet for you? It felt like a dream and way too terrifying at the same time.

“Sweetheart…” His hot breath against your ear snapped you back to reality. “You… you gotta be quiet, okay? Promise?”

You'd never nodded so quickly and eagerly in your life. Your heart felt like it was literally up in your throat. The tight knot in your core became more and more taut, and it trembled when you felt the hot tip of his wet dick bump between your folds.

Rick nearly came when he felt how wet you were. It was mind blowing, you were fucking soaked. The hot lube was covering your pussy and trailing down the side of your ass, reaching his hip bone.

You inhaled deeply when you felt him start to push in. You'd think with how wet you were it would be easy, but your muscles were wound tight due to the nearly paralyzing fear of possibly waking Daryl.

There was a bit of self disgust when you felt the weight of reality sinking in. The absolute pathetic degeneracy of what you were doing with Daryl right next to you.

That self disgust faded when Rick pushed into you.

Rick swallowed a groan as his cock dug up into you, your walls hot and soft and squeezing the life out of him. He could feel how nervous you were so he slipped an arm over your side, his hand reaching for your own again.

You moaned.

His hand broke from your grip and clamped over your mouth. Neither of you moved for a solid minute.

It was the longest minute in history. You could feel his dick twitching inside of you, your clit throbbing so hard you thought it was going to have its own little heart attack.

Your thighs absentmindedly squeezed against Daryl's knee, and you were sure you'd start crying.

Finally, Rick began moving. His breathing was growing heavy behind your head, his face burying back into the mess of hair in front of him.

His movements were slow at first. Tantalizingly slow. He waited until he was sure you could stay quiet before picking up the pace.

Your eyes had adjusted a fair amount in the darkness. You looked up to Daryl, finding comfort when you saw his eyes were still closed, but he'd stopped snoring long ago.

You dismissed it and grabbed onto the wrist of the hand covering your mouth, gripping tight for support.

Your right hand slipped under the sheets to rest on your thigh, but instead landed on Daryl's lower thigh. He must've been a very heavy sleeper, because he didn't react to it beyond the muscles tensing under your palm.

The sound that escaped Rick's lips had your eyes rolling back into your head. A trembling whimper. His movements grew quicker and deeper, his dick dragging your walls against him, pulling out every drop of arousal he could and thrusting it back in.

Your mind spun as all thoughts left your brain. There was nothing going on up there anymore, just dark blackness, the feeling of Rick fucking you taking over your conscious body.

His hand grabbed yours, the one on Daryl's knee, and pulled it away from you, to the right.

When your fingers brushed up against something warm and soft, you didn't question it. You didn't even question his fingers moving yours to wrap around his dick.

Your eyes shot open.

Rick's dick was still inside you. His right hand was still on your mouth, his left on the small of your back.

Daryl's eyes were open, and looking right into yours.

You went to jerk your hand away out of reflex, but his grip was tight, forcing your fingers to stay wrapped around his thick cock. Your eyes flew over him, fighting to understand what was happening, when had he woken up? Just then? Or was he awake when he pushed his knee between your thighs?

The orgasm that came out of nowhere pushed all those questions aside.

You moaned against Rick's hand as you came, no longer trying to be quiet, no longer trying to keep your hips still. Your thighs clamped down on Daryl's knee, grinding rough and quick.

Much to Rick's absolute heart-stopping horror.

He tried to muffle your moans, forcing his hand down painfully hard on your mouth, but it did little. He bared his teeth near your ear and hissed for you to stop, the sound sharp and jarring as it came through his clenched teeth, but then his eyes landed on the scene over your body.

Daryl using your hand to stroke his dick. Daryl with his other arm bent behind his head, his face tilted to the side to watch your expressions with parted lips.

It took Rick a few seconds to recover from the near heart attack. He almost lost his boner from the heart dropping adrenaline, but your wet walls spasming around him coaxed his hips forward.

Now that you didn't need to be quiet you pulled Rick's hand off your mouth and gasped down a lungful of air. Your mouth was hot and dry, and it was hard to swallow.

You couldn't take your eyes off Daryl, his eyes, the eyes that hadn't left your face since he woke up.

God, he was unbelievably sexy. The way he was so responsive to your touch led you to believe your hand might possibly be the first hand to touch his dick other than his own.

He grunted softly, his eyes finally falling shut after you gently squeezed the base of his dick. You'd be content to get him off with one hand like you had been for the past few minutes, but you couldn't resist the urge to give him his first hand job and blowjob.

“Up.” You panted. You curled your finger at Daryl, pointing up. He happily obliged and sat upright, scooting up towards the headboard until his lap was right in front of your face.

He seemed absolutely thrilled, ecstatic even. His once heavy eyes were now wide open, watching every move you made as you shifted your upper half so your mouth could reach his dick.

Rick was still thrusting with hesitation when you moved. He watched you lick broad stripes on the underside of Daryl's dick, and he couldn't help but glance at his face to see his reaction.

Mouth hanging open, eyes clenched tightly shut, his expression almost looked pained. His hands had found their way to your hair, gripping two handfuls as he began trying to move your head for you.

You slapped his hands away and grabbed his wrists, an action that had his eyes opening and looking down at you.

“Don't.” Your hot breath tickled the sensitive skin of his tip. He pinched both his lips shut between his teeth, nodding quickly, a shaky closed-lip moan rattling in his throat.

Rick finally got ahold of himself and grabbed your hips to turn your lower half on your stomach. He kept his dick inside you as he slid on top of you, his knees spreading to rest on either side of your thighs.

You were taking Daryl's head past your lips when Rick suddenly fucked you like he'd been wanting to the entire time. Both his hands rested on the small of your back, pushing your hips down into the mattress with all his weight to keep them firmly in place.

You gasped around Daryl at the feeling of Rick pounding into you from above. It was a comically drastic change from only five minutes before when he thought Daryl was asleep.

Daryl's wrists flexed in your hands where you had them pressed against his lower stomach. You knew he was only keeping them there in your grasp because he allowed it, and not because you were somehow strong enough to keep even a single wrist of his in your fist, let alone two.

It took a lot of effort on Rick's part to actually finish. Having Daryl in the room when you fucked was one thing, but having him making all that noise just from your mouth was another.

He was honestly more surprised that Daryl actually enjoyed sex acts than the fact he was engaging in them with him in the room. With no one other than you, a girl he almost never saw him interact with.

Rick had assumed Daryl simply wasn't interested. Incorrectly assumed.

Either way, having Daryl only a few feet away from him while he had his dick inside you was something he wasn't sure he enjoyed. But the way you clenched around him every time he pulled back was enough to make him forget about it.

Daryl was struggling to keep himself together. He had no point of reference, but he thought you were incredibly talented at giving head. You were giving it your all, sucking and licking like your life depended on it. It was impressive how well you were managing to concentrate on blowing him with Rick making such a mess of your pussy.

You couldn't be happier. You knew there were so many women back in Alexandria that would kill to be in your position, lying in front of the Daryl Dixon, lying under the Rick Grimes, both of their dicks inside you.

“Wa-wait.” Daryl suddenly sputtered and ripped his wrists from your hands to cup the sides of your face, giving a few gentle slaps with the tips of his fingers.

You looked up, not taking your mouth off of him. His expression made your pussy clench around Rick and he groaned behind you, the sound raw and deep. He shifted his hips and ground down against you, quick and rough, his tip jabbing deep inside you.

The ragged moan you let out reverberated through Daryl, and the hand you had around his base gave a trembling squeeze.

“M’boutta, Jesus! Hey, oh, godfuckindamnit-” Daryl's jaw dropped and his eyes rolled back, his head tipping backwards as he made that same pained expression and came down your throat.

Your hips were roughly jerked up from the bed, shoving you back on Rick's dick, and then his hands slipped under your armpits to pull up your top half.

It was hard to stay upright, but thankfully Rick was generous enough to provide you the luxury of his hands tight against your tits, keeping your back flush against his chest.

Oh, it was a goddamn shame Daryl had just come. The sight in front of him was something he knew millions would pay- no, kill- to see. You looked breathtaking. Rick had taken your shirt off some time ago, leaving you completely bare as you kneeled in front of Daryl.

He forgot to breathe as he watched your face, slack in pleasure. You were struggling to keep your eyes open and on him, something that made his softening cock twitch. All that struggling just to look at someone like him? The hell did he deserve to have someone like you looking at him like that?

Rick deserved praise for the way he supported your weight with just his hands, keeping your entire upper half pressed against his chest while he fucked you in desperate effort to finally get off. His dick felt raw from how long he'd been at it, his balls throbbing from the delayed orgasm, it was a wonder he was able to keep himself upright, let alone you.

“Daryl.” The way you whimpered his name made his cock jump back to life, and he pushed himself up on his elbows to look up at you, eager to obey whatever it was you were about to ask.

“Yeah?” He rasped as he stared up at you.

You'd placed your hands over Rick's and moved his fingers over your nipples, which he was pinching and rolling, something he understood without you even needing to ask.

“Touch me, please.”

You didn't need to ask twice. Daryl inched down the bed and kept himself propped up on one elbow, his other arm sliding over his chest to reach your clit.

Rick decided at that moment he definitely didn't like threesomes. Feeling you twist and hearing you moan due to Daryl's thumb rubbing against you made his chest and face hot, a childish reaction considering you and Rick were not a thing, and certainly not an exclusive thing.

He just wasn't good at sharing.

The silly jealousy led to him putting his all into pleasing you. His thrusts became slower but deeper, more forceful, knocking out a gravely groan from your throat with each one. His hands left your breasts to tangle in your hair, pulling it up into a makeshift ponytail with his fist being the hair tie.

Your skin buzzed when he pressed his face into your neck to plant sloppy kisses. He bit down and you whined, arching your back against him and tilting your head to the side to provide him better access.

Unlike Rick, Daryl didn't have a care in the world. His mind was completely blank as he stared up at you above him, oblivious to the way his thumb cramped from the constant circles he rubbed into you.

“C'mere.” You breathed, wrapping your fingers in Daryl's hair to urge him up and guide his mouth to your nipples.

Daryl's eagerness to please was one of the hottest things you'd ever witnessed. He took your right nipple in his mouth and went to town like his life depended on it.

He flexed his tongue, digging the firm and wet muscle around your bud, circling it the same way his thumb now circled your clit.

Your orgasm came screeching out of nowhere.

You cried out and gripped Daryl's head tighter, pulling his mouth firm against your breast as you came.

The feeling of your walls squeezing the life out of his cock finally brought about Rick's own climax.

He wrapped his fist around the hair bundled in his grasp and tugged your head to the side, baring your neck to his itching teeth, and clamped down as he gave a rough thrust.

You'd failed to notice that at some point Daryl had grown hard again, only noticing when he let out a ragged moan into your wet chest.

Your bleary eyes found him and caught sight of his hand quickly jerking himself. There was the flash of thick cum spurting out, long ropes coating the inside of your thighs.

“Fuck.” You slurred. Now that was the new hottest thing you'd ever seen.

Rick's teeth released their grip on your neck. He pulled back and let his head droop back as he caught his breath, his shoulders heaving with deep and ragged pants. He became aware of how uncomfortably sweaty he was. His chest and back felt soaked, and he dropped your hair to pull away from you.

You heard Rick plop down on the bed behind you, the springs creaking from his sudden weight dropping on it all at once. You were too busy admiring Daryl to pay attention to it.

There was a lazy smile on your face, your eyes half lidded and glued to his face. Even though the room was dark you were sure you could see how red his cheeks were. His lips were glossy and parted as he took in deep breaths, still wet from drooling all over your tits.

He could barely keep his eyes open, and with the way you had one hand cupping his face, the other brushing back his sweaty hair, he wasn't sure he wanted to. The sweet way you were looking down at him was just too hard to look away from.

The next morning wasn't as awkward as one would think, even though it was obvious Rick was having some internal battle on the ethics of what he'd done the night before. He'd never been in a situation where he knew he really shouldn't be doing something like that, so his lack of restraint was new knowledge he'd have to ponder over.

Daryl couldn't give any less of a fuck, that morning he gave you the whole princess treatment. Grabbing your now dry clothes, your bag, your shoes, and bringing them to you. Offered you the last of his water and opened every door you came across for you. He didn't say much at all, much like Rick, but his mood was clearly the exact opposite.

It was so sweet it made your heart ache.

“Hey.” Rick pulled you aside after you finally got back home, shooting Daryl a look to give the two of you privacy.

“Hi.” You smiled. The stern look on his face was cute.

“What we did-”

“Don't.” You stopped him, giving the man a tired smile. “It was the sexiest thing I've ever done and I'm fine with it being a one time thing, but don't ruin it and tell me it was wrong.”

“I wasn't going to say that.” His gaze had softened, but he still looked down at you with his hands on his hips like a disappointed authority figure. “I just don't want you to think it's okay to bring up if we're all alone again.”

“I'm not stupid.” You snorted, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. “Won't bring it up again.”

He sighed in frustration, trying not to roll his eyes but failing. “No, it ain't that either. Let's just- next time,” your eyes widened, “not be as spontaneous.”

You grinned. “Alright. You got it.”

Daryl was nowhere near as reserved about the experience. You could understand Rick's point of view, conservative family man, that was probably the most extreme thing he'd ever done in bed. But Daryl, oh, you'd just changed his fucking world.

“Pst.”

You stopped in front of the bathroom to see Daryl nodding you over, lighting a cigarette as he stood near the door to his room.

“Hi.” You smiled after approaching him.

“You okay?”

You beamed at the question, shifting your pile of clothes in your arms. “Yeah, I'm okay. Are you?”

He nodded as he took the first pull, turning his head to blow the smoke away from your face. “Is, uh…” He nodded his head to the front door, where Rick still stood on the porch talking to a few people. “He alright?”

“He's fine.”

“Alright. Good.” He shifted awkwardly. He cleared his throat, looking down at the cherry on his cigarette before bringing it back up to his lips. “That somethin' you wanna do again?”

You pursed your lips in an attempt to hide the ecstatic smile that threatened to embarrass you, and nodded.

He let out a breath that sounded like a laugh of relief and disbelief. There were a few seconds of silence, his eyes darting between his cigarette and your face. “With me?”

“Of course. Maybe next time just you.” You turned to head back to the bathroom but quickly turned on your heel and walked back to him. “Daryl? When did you,” you struggled to get the words out, ironic considering how bold youd been the night before, “you know, wake up?”

“Oh.” He grunted, his ears burning. “Dunno. While before.”

You felt a mix of embarrassment and relief. So he had pushed his knee between your legs on purpose. The thought had your stomach flipping and your face getting warm, so you gave a quick and polite smile before running off to the bathroom.

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams @jinx-nanami

Today was my birthday and I got the rare stew and some banging slippers. All that's missing is Daryl or Frank Castle penis. Either will work I am not picky

This is so random but does anyone know the old fanfic where it's dean Winchester x reader, the reader has a pain kink and dean needs to stitch her up and girl starts MOANING and deans like "the fuck? That's freaky goddamn" And they have sex. Please does anyone know what I'm talking about

The image this gave me is sending me into a deep hole 😔 I need this man

I love this video

“It’s really not”

IM FUCKING SCREAMING???

The way you sent this with no words just pictures no explanation 😭 when did you send this I'm crying????

Daryl Dixon x F!Reader Smut: Teasing will get you Somewhere

Gif found on Pinterest unknown credit

Warnings/Mentions: Blue balls, Dark/Rough!Daryl, sexual teasing (Daryl receiving) rough sex, spitting, choking, manhandling, biting, blood blisters, spanking, bruising, it might smell like dubcon but it's not

Summary: Reader wants to see Daryl at his breaking point, teasing and depriving him of release until he gets there. 

Notes: I loved writing this so much. While trying to think of a plot for dark!Daryl I remembered this idea/prompt someone had like 5 years ago where the reader teases a guy until he cracks and just goes crazy. I think it was a fanfiction, but I looked through my bookmarks and ao3 history and couldn't find anything like this so if you know what I'm talking about please let me know!!

All you wanted from the start was to see Daryl snap. He was such an aggressive loudmouthed man, but not in the way you wanted him to be. 

He'd started flirting with you to appease Merle, the man who'd instantly noticed how you swooned around Daryl. The younger Dixon didn't believe him, of course, but he approached you to avoid the harsh blows of Merle calling him a ‘belly-up pussy’ along with more distasteful slurs. 

His way of “flirting” was a lot like Merles at first. Offensive, inappropriate, you know the rest. You'd been patient enough to politely explain that you weren't like the type of women that would fuck Merle after he called them a 'sweet piece of Georgian ass', and he took the hint. 

Daryl was shockingly sweet after that. He was less verbal after learning vulgar compliments weren't the way to go, but it turned out alright for you in the end. He began looking after you like you were his full responsibility. Making sure you were fed first, bringing home clothes specifically for you, along with any other treats he thought you might like. 

It was great, aside from him never making a move on you. He gawked like you were an alien when you started dressing for his gaze, Bobby Brooks shorts, pretty tank tops, even shaving your legs once in a while. But he never made a move. 

That simply wouldn't do. 

It was late one night and you'd slipped into his tent. 

“The hell you doin'?” He cursed, wiping the sleep from his eyes as you zipped up the flap behind you. 

“Can't sleep, Carl won't stop coughing.” 

You'd been sharing a tent with Lori and Carl ever since you arrived with T-Dog. It wasn't a complete lie, Carl was coughing up a storm, sick with some chest cold, but that wasn't the reason for your lack of sleep.

“I got some earplugs.” He sat up and began shifting through his bags. 

“No, it's okay. Can I crash here tonight?” You asked innocently, kicking off your casual flip flops that you saved for night time piss breaks or trips to get water. 

Daryl tried hiding his surprise . The stutter in his voice gave him away. “Uh, sure, I guess. S’long as ya dun snore.”

You behaved for an impressive amount of time. Lying in silence, not moving an inch, waiting for him to loosen up before quietly shifting backwards until your back was pressed up against his chest. 

His heart felt seconds away from collapsing in on itself when he felt you. He'd popped a semi when you'd taken off that big T-shirt he'd given you, and now it was bordering on a full on erection.

You waited until you felt his body relax, which took longer than you originally estimated, and then wiggled your hips. 

The reaction was immediate. He sucked in a breath through his nose and made this choking sound. He grabbed your hips, only for a split second before yanking his hands away like he'd been burned. 

You wiggled again, pushing back until the feeling of the outline of his dick against your ass was ingrained into your memory. 

It didn't take long to wear him down, not at all. He let out a strangled groan and rocked into you, his self restraint long since thrown out the window.

And then you stopped.

He nearly gasped at the loss of friction. The feeling was so devastating that it sobered him, and his cheeks burned with embarrassment. 

“Wha-” he panted. His fingers loosened their hold on your hips and twitched against the fabric of your pajama shorts. “Why'd ya stah- stop?”

“I'm sleepy.” You said plainly, pulling the thin sheet up to your shoulders in emphasis. 

Daryl caught his breath behind you, struggling to make sense of it all through his confusion and disappointment. He grumbled something that sounded like it held an attitude, though sadly that was the extent of his protests. 

You needed more. You needed him to tear your clothes off and ravish you like the animal you knew he was. The Daryl that feverishly humped you like his life depended on it was cute, but you needed the Daryl that he was in his daily life. 

The only way you could think of was to force it out of him, even if it did torture the poor man in the process. 

You kept up the innocent teasing for a while. You took a break after Merle went missing, you knew your limits and his. You weren't a total selfish piece of shit. Only when you arrived at the farm and he began talking to you again did you resume your game of “teasing Daryl until he cracks”.

“How's it look?” You gave a cheeky smile as you turned in a circle with your hands on your hips. 

You'd put on the pair of green cargo shorts he'd found you. They weren't very practical, holding only four pockets, which was less than normal cargo shorts, but they were scandalous. The fabric hugged your ass tight enough to look damn near pornographic. 

“Didn't realize they were that tiny. Christ.” Daryl muttered with pink cheeks. “Jus’ give ‘em ta Beth. 

“Oh god. Can you imagine her face? That girl is still wearing pants in late summer. Her daddy would kill me.” You snorted and turned back to face him. “I'm keeping these bad boys. The fabric is soft. Wanna feel?” 

“Already felt em when I took em.” Despite his words, he set down his knife to free up his hands. 

“Give me your hand.” 

The poor boy was so eager to feel you that he practically threw his hands in yours. When you placed his palms on the sides of your shorts he seemed to snap to life, dropping the nonchalant attitude to rub his thumbs over the fabric covering your hips and thighs. 

You tried to keep the smug smirk off your face, and failed miserably. He was turning himself on just by touching the clothing that covered your pelvis. 

Suddenly, you pulled away, feeling your heart lurch in your chest at the way his face dropped.

“Thanks again. I've been needing new shorts.” 

“Yeah. Uh-huh. S'nothin.”

It went on like that for a while. 

One night you climbed into his tent again with the ruse of being cold, and he didn't mention the fact it was a warm seventy degrees that night. You were wearing nothing but an oversized T-shirt and panties, and made sure to make Daryl aware of this when you slid your knee over his thigh. 

Nothing happened that night either, nothing other than pretending to sleep while he palmed himself through his jeans. 

Another time you put on those green cargo shorts and offered to tidy up his camp, an offer he was quick to accept just so he could watch you needlessly bend over to grab random objects to place somewhere else. 

Once you even made out with him. Late at night in his tent, things got hot and heavy and you straddled him, wearing the same oversized T-shirt and panties, washed since then, of course. 

He was nervous at first, you could tell by the way his hands trembled on their way up your sides. You kissed him slow and sweet, nothing too extreme, not until he pushed his hot tongue against your lips. 

You let him in and groaned at the enthusiasm he showed. He kissed you like you were still teenagers, up in the loft of some barn hiding away from Daddy. 

“Shit.” He panted against your lips. He moved his hands down to your waist and pulled you down hard, groaning when he got that first taste of friction he so desperately craved.

“Slow down.” You breathed. Your body betrayed your words, your hips rolling down gentle and slow, just enough to feel the outline of his aching cock through your clothing. 

“Why?” He muttered before pressing another kiss against your lips. “Wha's stoppin’ ya? I got condoms. Glenn's got the pill. S'fine.” 

You pulled up and away from his lips. He looked so pretty beneath you all desperate like that. It still wasn't what you wanted. 

“I don't know, Daryl-” Your voice choked into a whine when he moved under you, the friction momentarily rendering you speechless. 

“Can't ya feel what yer doin’ to me? Huh?” He snapped his hips again, forcing out another whine. “S’all for you. C'mon now.”

“Not here Daryl.” You tried to keep your voice level and firm. “Not in some tent where we have to be quick and quiet.” 

“Le’s go somewhere then. Anywhere ya want, don't care. Tell me. I'll take ya.” 

Truthfully, that almost made you give in. But it still wasn't the Daryl you wanted to experience. He was desperate, but not desperate enough. 

“Not tonight, Daryl. It's too late and Shane's on watch. He'll have my ass if he catches us sneaking out.” 

Daryl growled in frustration, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead. “Won't get caught.”

“Yeah, sure. Let's just wait another night.” You pressed a kiss against his cheek, innocent enough, contrasting painfully with the way you ground down against him one last time before sliding off.

Part of you started doubting your plan. Daryl was too reluctant, too full of self doubt, too terrified at the aspect of losing whatever fun thing you had going on by pushing your limits. Even though you had no problem pushing his. 

His patience amazed you. Any other man would've thrown you to the side after the first few times, or ignored your “wishes” and dove right in. He didn't know that's what you wanted. You couldn't blame him. 

How could you tell someone like Daryl “I want you to fuck me with enough desire and aggression to give a nun a heart attack”? He'd been too gentle during foreplay, too submissive, you were beginning to think he was a virgin. 

Maggie gave you a dress. You didn't know who it once belonged to, her or her sister, but it was one of the cutest things you'd ever laid eyes on. A pretty moss green that went right below your knees, laces up your stomach the same color as the dress, and thankfully, no sleeves. 

The domestic look had Daryl in shambles. You looked like a farm wife from a damn magazine, it took everything he had in him not to fuck you behind the barn like he wanted. 

He took you out that day. On a ‘food supply run’, as he called it. You weren't anyone's first pick for runs, which you understood, you were easily distracted. It was your biggest fault.

So when he asked you specifically, and you alone, you were barely able to contain your excitement. 

The first place you stopped by was an old farmers corner store to pick up enough food so you didn't come back empty handed. A few canned goods, stale snacks and three cans of soda. 

He left that in the back of the truck when the two of you stopped by a house. A very nice house, to your surprise. 

“Can't believe this place hasn't been trashed.” You commented while rummaging through the kitchen. “No more food, but there's some lighter fluid.”

“Hm.” Daryl grunted. After securing the front door he found you still in the kitchen, chewing on a mouthful of gum. 

You'd shoved about three long sticks in your mouth. “Want some?”

He eyed the gum wrapped in silver paper before taking it from your outstretched hand with a gruff thanks. 

It was hard to focus on, his heart felt like it was in his throat, it was hard to swallow, and his jaw ached from his aggressive chewing. He'd done everything you wanted, got birth control; condoms and plan B. He found this nice house that same morning, almost immediately after seeing you walk outside in that dress. He even cleaned up the master bedroom for you, dusting off the sheets and beating the pillows, opening the windows to air out the room. 

There was no way you could wave him off now.

Oh, but you found a way. It was a talent that needed to be fucking studied. 

You were digging through the dresser in the upstairs bedroom when he approached you. You ignored the sound of the door shutting and locking behind him, pretending to be very interested in the contents of the bottom drawer. 

His hands found your sides. Your skin tingled as he pulled you to your feet and pressed you against the dresser with his palm on your lower back.

He went to kissing the back of your neck. His lips were light and soft, contrasting the anxiety bubbling in his gut. 

“Hmm.” You hummed. He brushed your hair over your right shoulder and went back to kissing your neck, peppering them all the way to the point of your left shoulder. 

“Missed ya'.” He muttered, pushing his hips forward to drive home his point. 

You tried not to laugh with pity at the feeling. He was already hard? Poor thing. 

“We're supposed to be looking for food.” You chided playfully. You shifted your ass and earned a low grunt of appreciation for the friction. 

“Then why’re ya in the bedroom?” He challenged. When you didn't respond he smirked against the skin on your neck. 

His hands didn't wait for permission. He bent his knees so he could grab the bottom of your dress, gathering it in his fists and pulling it up and over your ass. He sighed at the sight, you were wearing the type of panties he'd only ever seen on a clothing rack or behind a screen. Black soft fabric, tight and with lace around the hem, hugging your curves just right. 

“Daryl, come on.” You chuckled, but made no attempt to move. “They're gonna wonder where we went.”

He laughed, the sound dry and humorless. “Don't give a shit. They'll survive.” 

“And what is it you wanna do so bad that's more important than feeding our people, huh?” You mused, placing your palms on the dresser he was pushing you harder up against. 

“Ain't my people.” He quipped and ground into you, dying to make you feel how desperate he was for you. 

You choked back a moan. “You didn't answer my question.” 

“Want ya. Right here.”

“Want me to what?” 

Daryl sighed and released his hold on your dress to grip your waist. “Wanna fuck ya nice an’ good. Make y’feel what y’been missin’.”

You groaned. Your grip on the dresser turned white-knuckled as he pushed against you again. 

“Yeah?” Your breath trembled past your open lips. “What else?”

Daryl pressed himself closer, until his mouth was right at your ear. “Wanna feel what ya’ been keepin’ from me. Taste ya'. Shove my dick in that pretty lil’ mouth n’make ya sorry.” 

His words had an obvious effect on you. Your knees trembled and your breathing was louder, more shallow. 

But he still hadn't cracked. 

The curiosity was eating you alive. You couldn't give in now, not when he was so fucking close. You turned to face him and gave a ghost of a smile, trying your best to look sympathetic.

“Maybe some other time.” 

His eyes widened and his eyebrows scrunched tightly together. His nostrils flared as his pupils darted over your face, looking frantically for the slightest sign telling him it was a joke. He looked hurt, confused, like you just slapped him in the face and called him a slur.

There it is. 

“You-” he choked out, “Y’aint serious?” 

You forced a nod. 

“Why?” The way he raised his voice sent a bolt of pleasure through your core, and you had to fight back a whimper. “Got everythin’ ya needed. Went through the trouble’a findin’ this place, ain't gotta be quiet, ain't gotta worry ‘bout walkers or someone hearin’, the hell else you want from me woman?” 

You couldn't stop yourself from whimpering. You bit your bottom lip and tried to steady your breathing, but when you stole a glance at his face and saw the expression held there your lungs shifted into overdrive. 

He looked so fed up. 

“What are you gonna do about it?” You whispered. 

Daryl sneered in contempt. “The hell can I do ‘bout it? Not gonna beg.”

You swallowed hard. You slowly shook your head, your chest rising and falling dramatically, your body still trapped between his arms, his hands on the dresser behind you. 

“Don't want you to beg.” 

You pressed a hand between his legs and he let out a strangled groan, his elbows swaying as they threatened to give out. You flexed your fingers to massage his length, and pulled away. 

His eyes shot open and just as quick his hand wrapped around your wrist, yanking you back to his bulge and nearly breaking your fingers in the process of shoving them down the waistband of his jeans. 

After unbuckling his belt he was able to cram your hand down deeper, forcing you to feel him. 

You gasped when your fingertips made contact. You didn't know a dick could get that hard. It felt just as firm as any other extremity. 

“Daryl.” You let out a long sigh as you gave a half assed attempt to pull your hand out. His grip on your wrist tightened. 

“Hmm?” The teasing tone of his hum made your clit throb. 

“We can't-” You didn't get to finish your sentence before he scoffed and picked you up. Like actually picked you up in his arms, bridal style. He threw you on the plush bed where you bounced a few times, and dove into you.

“S’enough.” He muttered. He pulled your dress up over your waist and looped his fingers through the sides of your panties. You thought he'd hesitate, take a look at the expression on your face and back off, but he didn't. He tugged them down your legs and tossed them off the bed in a random location. 

“Ain't some pussy ya’ got on a leash.” His fingers snaked between your legs, beelining for your cunt. He groaned in surprise, his eyes rolling back at the feeling. You were beyond wet at this point, his aggression had your folds like a slip n slide with lube instead of water. 

You bit back a moan. His fingers spread your folds, smearing your wetness around, his thumb pressing down against your clit. 

“Fuck!” You gasped. Your hips instinctively shifted to the side from the overwhelming sensation, but a firm grip on your waist quickly snatched you back. 

“Think y'can do whatever the hell ya’ want, and I'll jus’ sit back an’ let ya’?” He didn't give you time to answer. He pushed a finger inside you, and both of you hissed at the feeling. “Ffuck. Shit ain't like that no more, princess.” 

Any other time you would've snapped at the insult, but his finger digging around inside you had your mind blank. 

“Wha’s wrong? Huh?” He twisted his finger and you cried out. His voice was sickly sweet, something that should've pissed you off but only fueled your arousal. “Got nothin' to say?” His finger curled, a movement that held no thought behind it, though the way you gasped and arched your back had him repeating the action. 

Then he started mocking you. “Oh no, not now, it's not right, I'm not ready!” He scoffed in disgust. “Like ya’ a lot better when ya’aint speakin’.” 

Oh, god. You should be fuming. You should be spitting venom right back at him, but this is everything you'd wanted from him. It was all going according to plan. 

Maybe he knew that, or maybe he didn't. Either way he was behaving just as you'd imagined countless times, rough, mean, cruel and demanding. 

“C'mon, try a little bit.” He growled after leaning down to bite at your open neck. “Go on. Tell me it ain't the time. Tell me.”

You were nothing but a puddle under him. Your hands became too restless and reached up to grab at him, balling your fists in the back of his shirt.

Never in your life had a man treated you like this. No matter how bad you teased and gave subliminal signals. They would either indulge in your teasing, respect your wishes and back off when told to, or kiss and plead until you relented. 

Finally someone was fucking you like you had always wanted. Or, they were about to. 

The knuckle of his thumb had been digging into your clit for a good minute now, and despite how uncomfortable it could feel at times, you came quickly. 

You sucked in a sharp gasp and locked your legs around his waist, trying to pull his finger in deeper, or make his knuckle grind harder. 

Daryl groaned into your neck as you came around his finger. His hips jerked forward and bumped against his hand between your thighs, knocking his digit in deeper. You yelped, not expecting such a sharp sensation during your warm and soft climax. 

He withdrew his finger and you whined. 

“Sh-sh-sh.” You didn't think a hush could sound so condescending. “Got somethin' better. Gonna make you regret not takin’ it sooner.”

You said it before you could stop yourself. “You don't have it in you.” 

His eyes flicked up to your face as he pulled his zipper down, a look on his face that sent chills across your bare legs.

There was slight amusement, slight relief, as if someone finally gave him permission to show off and prove himself. Lips parted into a breathy smirk, tongue peeking between his teeth, and one eyebrow raised. 

Your eyes dropped to his pants when he pulled his cock free. It looked just as you imagined when you'd touched it only minutes ago, standing at full attention against his lower stomach.

You let out a sigh when you saw it reached his navel. 

Daryl leaned down until he was level with your pussy. You heard it before you felt it, the sound of him spitting, and then warm drool dropping right on your sensitive clit.

You squealed in protest, trying to raise yourself on your elbows, but he stopped you with a hand on your chest. With his free hand he smeared his spit over your already soaking folds, even going as far as to push some inside you with his finger. 

“Ew!” You gasped. 

You felt a tingle. Subtle at first, you just assumed it was the salinity of his saliva, and then more prominent. You were close to panicking until you saw the wad of white gum shoot out of his mouth, landing with a smack against the hardwood floor. 

At least you knew the source of the tingling. You swallowed your own gum, the same way you'd completely forgotten about.

The skin around your cunt buzzed when he slapped the tip of his dick on your clit, and you squirmed beneath him. He steadied you with the same hand on your chest. 

“Wait.” You inhaled deeply. He didn't wait though, he just pushed into your clenched hole, ignoring your whines.

“Ssss-shut up.” His voice trembled. He used his free hand to wrap around the base of his dick, holding it straight as he slowly pushed in further. 

“Y-you said you had condoms.” 

Daryl let out a loud groan as he sank into you. His right hand on your chest increased in pressure as more and more of his upper body weight bore down on it, forcing the air from your lungs. 

He was so thick, and it had been years for you. The burn was incredible, in such a pleasurable way that you should've felt ashamed to enjoy. You tried to moan, but nothing came out aside from a strained breath. 

“Ain't nothin' gonna make me feel rubber instead’a this.” He grunted. He rolled his hips forward and finally pulled his hand off your chest to roll the dress up and over your body. 

“F-Fuck.” His whimper was strangled in his throat. Being completely naked under someone who was fully dressed had you clenching around him, earning another whimper from said man. 

“Should feel ‘shamed, keepin' all this from me.” 

You didn't. Not one bit. 

“But I know ya'aint.” 

You furrowed your brows, momentarily stunned by his apparent mind reading abilities. He jerked his hips forward and your face fell slack, your jaw dropping and your eyelids falling shut. 

His thrusts were harsh, but far too slow for you to get anywhere. You grabbed his shirt and used it to pull him down, desperate for more stimulation. 

Daryl happily obliged. His breath was hot on your ear before he took the lobe between his lips, sucking and licking the flesh. You gasped as he bit down on it, and you could sense the smirk on his lips. 

“Daryl?” You breathed, the name breaking on your tongue with another thrust. 

“Jesus.” He groaned, thoroughly annoyed. He released your ear and pulled back to look at you, frustration evident on his face. “What?”

“Thought I was gonna regret it.”

Your words had his upper lip twitching and his eyes widening ever so slightly. 

“Yeah?” He huffed. “S'gonna be like that?”

He rose from your chest, shifting until he was sitting on his boots. His hands grabbed onto your hips and yanked you down on his dick, forcing a cry from your dry throat. It took him a few seconds to position himself, leaning back just a bit, his grip on your hips tight, and then he started fucking you in a ruthless pace. 

It wasn't what you were expecting. Your mouth dropped into a long gape and your eyes shot open as he pounded his pelvis against yours, driving his dick so deep it reached places your fingers never had. 

Each thrust had a gasp burning in your lungs, and those gasps quickly grew to embarrassing moans. Now that you were ashamed of. If you had the ability to stop it you could, but the way he was thrusting into you rendered you utterly unable to control yourself and the sounds you made. 

“Get up.” 

You weren't sure why he even spoke, because he was moving your body by himself before you could process his command. He pulled you to the side of the bed and turned you over on your stomach, bending you over and shoving his dick back inside you so fast you shrieked. 

Your feet flew up behind you, smacking against the back of his thighs. If you could've seen it you would've laughed. 

The new angle was paralyzing. His dick was no longer tilted against the spot under your stomach, the spot that had you a drooling mess seconds ago. Now it smashed against a deeper part of you, a part that had you groaning with each frustration fueled thrust. 

“Fuck.” Daryl groaned, his pace slowing to give momentary reprieve. He wasn't as young as you, and even though he was always out there doing a hundred times more labor intensive activity, he needed a second to catch his breath. 

There was still an itch yet to be scratched. While he regained his bearings you fought to think of a way to say it without actually saying ‘i want you to hurt me and fuck me till I cry’. You'd already humiliated yourself enough. 

When he began picking up the pace again, you reached for the hand beside your head and bit down on his knuckles. Not gently, either. You bit down so hard he could've ripped a tooth out with the way he yanked his hand away.

“The fuck?” His voice was barely below a shout. “Ya’ crazy bitch!” 

There was no retaliation besides a particularly forceful thrust, to your irritation. 

“You baby.” You managed to grunt out. “Barely bit you.” 

“Barley bi-” he scoffed, looking down at the hand he now had splayed across your lower back. There were deep pink imprints from your teeth over his index finger knuckle, and the skin around it turned a bright red. 

You felt his fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling your hand away from its grip on the bed sheets. Your heart hammered quicker than his thrusts when his breath tickled your skin, and then he bit you. In the same spot you bit him.

It wasn't nearly as hard as you bit him, but you still whimpered at the ache. 

“Point stands.” 

Daryl couldn't believe what he was hearing. His jaw set and he dropped your wrist. 

The smug smirk you'd been keeping to yourself fell when your hair was suddenly twisted in the fist of his right hand. With just that leverage alone he pulled your upper body up, and his left arm snaked around your torso to keep you flush against his chest. 

He yanked your head to the side. You gasped. 

“This what ya’ wanted, huh sweetheart?” He breathed against your ear and drew back until his dick nearly slipped out before slamming back in.  

“Mmm-oh god yes.” You blurted out between moans. 

“Jus' had to ask.” He managed a chuckle. 

“More.” 

He furrowed his brows, but kept up the slow and deep pace. He couldn't imagine what else he could give you. He was fucking you hard enough to bruise, he was pulling your hair, what, did you want him to start beating you? 

He dipped his head down to bite your shoulder, holding back just enough so that he wouldn't give you an actual wound. 

You have to consider that biting someone with enough force to actually break the skin takes a lot. Skin isn't like the flesh of a fruit. It's tough, and would require chewing to break through. So for him to stop right before that point meant he was biting you so hard you got blood blisters, and the pain was all you could focus on. 

Your wail of genuine pain had him pulling back like he'd been shocked. His thrusts slowed, and through ragged breaths he spoke, “Shit, m'sorry. M'so sorry.” 

“No.” You gasped. Your shoulder felt like it was on fire, and your walls cleaned around him in response. “So good. Feels so good.”

Daryl let out a huff in relief. “Ya’ weird as shit, yanno that?” 

“Mhmm.” You groaned, pressing your ass back tightly against him. “More.” 

He took a deep breath to steady himself and pushed you back down on your stomach. He had to work himself up to it, the idea intimidating. Once his thrusts were back to their former sharp pace he raised a hand in the air. 

You tilted your head to the side so your cheek was pressed against the blanket. When you saw his right hand held up, your heart leapt. You never nodded so quickly. 

Daryl ground his teeth together, glancing down at your ass, your face, and back to your ass again before smacking his hand against it. 

It was barely a love tap. 

You groaned, wiggling your hips and earning a moan from him in response to the feeling on his dick. 

He took the hint and gave another smack, harder, but still not giving that burn or satisfying ‘smack’ sound you wanted.

“Daryl, please.” You whimpered. “Hurt me. I'm not made of glass.” 

You barely got the last word out before he slapped you. Open handed, fingers spread and slightly curved to mold perfectly against your asscheek. You yelped and instinctively tried scooting up the bed, held back by his left hand on your hip. 

It clicked in his head then. No wonder people liked spanking so much. His palm tingled and he could see a faint handprint start to color your skin. And the way you reacted, that sound you made, your body trying to get away from him, it made his dick twitch. 

“Fuck!” You cried out after another hard slap. The pain fully distracted you from the ache in your shoulder, white hot pain spreading across your ass and up your spine. 

“Such a baby.” He meant it to sound patronizing, but he was still too amazed by the new turn on he'd discovered, and the words came out breathless. 

Your whimper bled into another cry as he spanked you again. 

And again. 

Again, again, until you were on the verge of tears, sobs bubbling from your wet lips as you tried to squirm away from him. 

As if you actually wanted to. Which you clearly didn't. You were practically gushing around his dick. 

He rubbed his palm over the deep red skin, barely soothing the blinding burn he'd left behind. “Goddamn.” 

“M'gonna cum.” You were literally drooling. 

He snapped his attention away from your ass and back to you. “Whaddya want, huh?” He quickened his pace once again, jolting forward to press his body against your back. You whimpered at the way he moved, his dick pushing deeper inside you. 

“More, please,” you stuttered, trying desperately to work your hand under your body, which proved to be difficult due to his weight on top of you. 

Daryl noticed and lifted your hips with his hands. He shoved your eager arm out of the way and rubbed your clit with his own fingers, fast and deep in a way he assumed you'd like. 

You moaned under him, arching your back, feeling him slip in further. It was as if he grew another inch every five minutes. Or you grew another inch deeper, and he was staying the same. Either way he was deeper, and it felt immaculate. 

The rise to your climax was slow, but powerful. You were fully prepared to gently tip over the edge and slide down in bliss. 

That was before he slapped your pussy. Then you fell down gasping. 

Daryl held onto your body like you were a wild mustang, trashing and twisting under him in ecstasy. He withdrew his hand and grabbed your hips again, resuming his brutal pace, clamping his teeth down on the back of your neck to keep your bodies anchored together. 

It took a while for you to come down from your high. When you did it was violent, the pure bliss smashed away by burning overstimulation. 

“Fu-uck!” You heaved in deep breaths. “Daryl s’too much, can't, wait!”

“Ever since that night ya’ came in my tent, blue ballin’ me like that,” he growled against your neck, “-been dreamin’ ‘bout havin ya’ like this. Fallin’ apart. Face full’a tears. Ain't stoppin now.” 

He wasn't bluffing. He didn't stop. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, ramming into your abused cunt, only slowing to shift in positions so you were on your back. 

The air felt amazing against your chest. Daryl ripped that feeling away with gnashing teeth, biting your hard nipples and alternating between sucking and pinching.

The house had to be surrounded by walkers by now. There was no way it wasn't, you were crying and moaning like you were getting paid for it. 

“Oh, god.” You wailed as another orgasm built up quicker than ever inside you. “Oh please, fuck, god!”

A jolt of pleasure shot through your core when Daryl's hands wrapped around your throat. 

Now, Daryl was no stranger to strangling someone. He'd choked plenty of people out before.

In fights.

He was unaware there was a different type of choking for pleasure. Instead of squeezing the sides of your throat with his thumb and fingers, he wrapped both hands around your neck and fucking strangled you. 

You squeezed your eyes shut so tight they ached as you came. Your orgasm had started off blinding, overwhelming every inch of your body, but Daryl's crushing grip soon muted the tail end of your climax and filled your ears with a deafening ringing. 

Daryl pulled his teeth off your nipple and panted against your ear. “Lemme cum inside ya’, sweetheart.”

You could barely process what he'd said. You forced your eyes open against the pressure induced burn, trying to find his face, only to see the side of his head. 

“Can't pull out.” He growled and released some of the pressure around your throat. Oxygen and blood flooded your head, leaving you dizzy and with black around the edges of your vision. 

“Can't, m'sorry. Oh, huh-  fuck!” His voice was strained as every muscle in his body tensed up. His hips surged forward, stuffing his dick balls deep to coat the end of your walls in his cum. “Mmm-fuck s’good. So good. Ohhh, Hah-” 

He choked on his moan. He moved his head, replacing his hands around your neck with his mouth, kissing and biting at the tender skin as he spurted ropes of hot cum inside you. 

Your body broiled under his crushing form. Your thighs relaxed from their clamped position, falling off his waist and dropping to the bed beneath you. Your lungs ached and your throat was raw, but your pussy buzzed so intently it felt like you had a vibrator pressed against it. 

“Oh, god.” The tone was full of dread and you forced yourself to focus on Daryl. 

“What?” You croaked. There was a stabbing pain in your neck from Daryl choking you out like you were a man his size. 

“Yer all fucked up.” He whined. He traced his fingers across your throat. “S’bad. Oh fuck.”

“Calm down.” You sat upright after he pulled back enough for you to do so, his dick dragging out against your trembling walls in the process and making you hiss.

“It's okay. I'll just tell em a walker got the jump on me. We've all seen them grab throats. It's fine.” You pressed a kiss to his worried lips. 

“Gonna tell em a walker did that too?” He pointed an exhausted finger at the bite mark on your shoulder, which was now in the early stages of a deep bruise, not to mention the blood blister in the shape of his teeth.

You laughed softly. “Fuck no. I'll just skip the tank tops for a week or two.”

That seemed to settle him enough and he nodded, moving to lay on his back. 

“That was amazing.” You broke the long silence. “Seriously. You're the first man to ever… you know.”

Daryl furrowed his eyebrows and looked up at you. “Huh? Y’never…?”

“No! I mean…” you sighed. “Never had a man make me come.”

Now he was at full attention, sitting upright and leaning back on his palms. “Nah, no shit.”

“I'm serious.”

He let out a light scoff, shaking his head in disbelief. “Jesus.” He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he watched you climb off the bed to grab your thrown panties. “Me too.”

You glanced over your shoulder as you stepped into them. “Really? You never…?”

He nodded, going back to biting his cheek. 

“How'd you last so fucking long?”

A cocky grin crept across his lips at the compliment behind your words. He was worried he didn't last long enough. And you just asked him how he held on so long.

“Jerked off like, ten fuckin’ times today.” 

That meant he knew he was going to fuck you today. Heat spread through your core again, despite how worn out you were. You smiled and climbed back on the bed to smother him with kisses. 

“You're so fucking hot.” You mumbled against his lips, which were moving weakly against your own. 

“Says the bitch that wouldn't fuck me.” He chuckled. 

“Just wanted you to make the decision for me. It's a lot hotter that way.” You hummed, pulling your swollen lips away from his. “It worked.” 

“Psh.” He rolled his eyes and began stuffing his soft cock back in his jeans. “Put yer clothes on. Place is probably crawlin' with walkers. Le’s get the hell outta dodge before anymore show up.”

Now that Daryl was in on your little game, you couldn't wait to play again. 

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams @my1fx @jinx-nanami

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A Daryl Dixon Fanfic Challenge

Welcome back, fellow Dixon fiends, to yet another mediocre challenge from yours truly. 🩸

This challenge is (obviously) in honor of spooky season, so let’s jump right in! 👻

How to participate:

Simply select a prompt from below the cut and get to writing! 🔪 Be aware, each prompt has a unique set of challenges!

🩸Deadline is October 31!

🩸Winners will be announced in the second week of November!

Once you’ve completed your story, just post it, tag me, and tag the post #ddhh so I can find them all easily!

Rules:

Daryl Dixon x Reader only!

500 word minimum*

5k word maximum*

Must be able to stand alone!

Can be part of an ongoing series, but again, must be able to stand alone without outside context.

Writers may only enter one story from one prompt.

Please clarify which prompt you chose somewhere on your post.

* minimum & maximum word counts are approximate!

Prizes & Results:

Each prompt category will have one winner each.

Results will be decided via polls beginning in the first week of November.

🩸Each poll will be up for voting for 7 days.

🩸Winners will be announced in the second week of November.

The winner from each prompt will:

🩸Be tagged in an honorary winner post!

🩸Have one story of their choosing linked to every fic I post + my masterlist until December 31, 2024.

Prompts:

Choose wisely! Each prompt has its own unique set of kill counts, quotes, advantages, and challenges.

Here is a key for reference:

Kill Count: Mandatory number of deaths.

Setting/Era: Mandatory setting/era.

Quote: A line that must be included in your dialogue.

Challenge: Something that may make a prompt harder than the others.

Advantage: Something that may make the prompt easier than the others.

Slasher

summary: A classic, gory horror trope! Someone in the group has gone insane! The horrors of the post-apocalyptic world has driven them mad! They’re killing everyone! Who are they? Why have they done this? Who will survive?

setting/era: must be set either in Alexandria or the Prison

kill count: 4 to 8 kills

quote: “How could you?”

challenge: The killer must be a canon character from your chosen era, and your kills must also be canon characters from your chosen era. Killer cannot be Daryl or Reader. Killer also cannot be a canonical villain (like the Governor, Termites, Negan, Alpha, etc.)

advantage: Kills can be done with any weapon of choice, to any character of choice.

Supernatural

summary: A (supernatural creature of your choice) is terrorizing and killing off members of the group. What is it? What does it look like? How does it kill? More importantly, how will the survivors kill it?

setting/era: The Greene Farm

kill count: 3 to 5 kills

quote: “What the fuck is it?!” / “Dead, as soon as o figure out how.”

challenge: Supernatural creature cannot be a ghost, demon, or other spirit of any kind.

advantage: Your supernatural creature can be a classic (werewolf, vampire, wendigo, etc) or it can be something completely original and unexplainable. This gives freedom to describe your monster with as much/little detail as you please.

Paranormal

summary: A paranormal force has made its presence known and brought pain and terror upon its victims. Maybe it’s a demonic possession taking over one of the survivors, maybe it’s an angry spirit taking its home back. You decide!

setting/era: —

kill count: —

quote: “Kill it!” / It’s already dead!” / “So are the walkers!”

challenge: Your paranormal entity must not be visible to the human eye, creating an extra layer of difficulty for the survivors.

advantage: Kills are optional. No mandatory setting/era.

FAQ

Do major characters have to die (like Rick, Carol, etc) or do minor characters (like Olivia, Axel, etc) count towards the kill count as well?

Anyone can die!

Can my supernatural creature be anything that isn’t a ghost or spirit?

Yes! Could even be an alien!

Can I write a story for multiple prompts and only use one for the challenge?

Sure! You can even post them! Just be sure to specify which one you’d like to enter in the challenge, even if you do so by just sending me a message.

For the Slasher prompt, who qualifies as a villain?

Good question. Lots of morally gray characters on TWD, so it can be hard to decide who’s a villain and who’s just an asshole. For our purposes, let’s say Negan, Alpha, the Termites, and the Governor are the villains that are off limits.

Credits:

dividers from: @sister-lucifer

I do not own TWD and its characters, blah blah blah.

tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck @duffmckagansbandana @celtic-crossbow @virginsexgod69 @dazzling-roaring-20s @l0kilaufeys0n7 @uhnanix @superbowlisgay @liizzygrant @eddiemunsonsupremecy @raeraegoaway @ophelialaufey @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfsalltheway @negansbestie @mfnqueen1 @raynelbabe

Daryl Dixon x F!Reader Smut: Three-hour Drive in Two

Warnings/Mentions: Smut, cursing, overstimulation,

Summary: You call Daryl over the radio and tell him you're tired of the games, and want to finally have sex. Daryl drops everything he's doing to get to you. 

Notes: The idea of Daryl wanting to have sex with someone so badly that he literally just gets on his bike and rides hours to do it????? It's just so hot????

There was the sound of creaking, shuffling, paper or boxes. You're breathing louder, and closer to the mic, he could almost feel your warm breath tickling his ear if he closed his eyes. 

“I wanna talk to you.” A soft and breathy tone, it sent a freezing chill down his spine. He knew what that sound meant. 

He raised his eyes from his fingers in his lap, glancing around the room. No one was paying him any attention. Maggie still looking out the window, Glenn still upstairs, and Michonne digging around in the kitchen.

“Yeah?” He responded, his voice coming out much lower than he intended. 

“Yeah.” You sighed, and he could hear the same creaking sound. You were in a chair, moving around, restless, he could hear that now. “As hot as this is, what we've been doing…” 

You and Daryl had been playing this game for a few months. 

It started with caught glances, red cheeks, and then all of a sudden you were showing off for each other. Subtle, but obvious to anyone who'd caught sight of it. 

You would be walking around Alexandria in those Bobbie Brooks shorts you and Daryl loved. Daryl started dressing nicer, swapping those long sleeved shirts for his older cutoff button ups, his biceps as eye-catching as a big red circle, a handful of arrows lit up with little gold neon lights, blinking and flickering ‘hey, look at me, all for you, look, please’. 

Then came the flirting. Daryl was absolutely awful at it. You seemed like a professional compared to him, with your bedroom eyes and lip biting, that sweet sly grin you'd have after teasing him. 

Daryl started with what made him hard when he'd catch you'd do it, which was staring shamelessly. He'd go out of his way to check out your ass when you'd walk in the other direction and give a simple smile when you'd look over your shoulder and catch him. 

You always looked to see if he looked, and he always did. 

“Daryl?” 

He cleared his throat, blinking away the memory of your ass in those sinful jean shorts. He turned down the volume on his radio and raised it closer to his face. “Hmm. M’here.”

“How fast do you think you can get back?” 

The question and what it alluded to had his dick twitching in his jeans. “Three hours.” He answered immediately, avoiding the curious look Maggie gave him from across the room.

“Think anyone's on this channel?” The sound of you humming was accompanied by footsteps, boots against the hardwood floor of your house. 

“Shouldn't be.” He muttered, picking up his gun and bag and making his way to the front door. 

“Everything okay?” Maggie asked, watching Daryl as she kept a lookout through the downstairs windows. They were on a supply run, going further out than usual, most places near Alexandria had been wiped clean. 

“Yeah. S'fine. Got somethin’ to take care of. How much longer y'all gonna be?” Daryl slipped his shoulder through the strap on his crossbow, his radio still clutched tightly in his other hand.

“Gonna check a few other houses down this road, then the factory.” Maggie nodded. “We'll be back before sunset.”

Daryl offered a returned nod, unable to meet her eyes, the excitement of knowing he was about to have his dick in you making him jumpy. 

He thought he was gonna have to be the one to ask, you'd always seemed so composed and patient, content with blue balling him and leaving your panties in his room. 

“Be safe.” She called out after him as he walked down the concrete pathway, and he raised a hand in acknowledgment.

“You still there?” Even though he turned down the volume he could still hear you over the sound of his heavy boots over the concrete, and he raised his radio back to his face. 

“Yeah. M’on my way.” He couldn't remember a time he'd felt so excited about something. No fear, no anxiety, no dread, just heart hammering anticipation. 

His mouth watered as he fished out the keys to his bike from his pocket. 

“Don't get a speeding ticket.” 

Daryl chuckled, and got on his bike. 

If cops were still a thing, he'd get a lot more than a ticket for the way he drove back home. He and the others took three hours to get to that town from Alexandria, and he made it back there in two. He hadn't had a ride like that since he was young, maybe back at the Greene farm or in Atlanta. He drove like he had a helmet, hell, like he had a full suit of armor, and gas was readily available at any of the gas stations he passed by. 

You were standing in your closest when he finally tried to reach you.  Standing completely still, biting your bottom lip to keep from giggling. 

“Where?” You had to turn down the volume to keep from being found. 

“You gotta find me.” You breathed, your cheeks aching from the smile on your face. He'd come through your room twice already, the second time confused, and now he was no doubt checking his room. 

“Gotta find you?” He repeated, the image of his bewildered face was easy to imagine. 

“Mhm. See if you can find me before I come.” You whispered, your smile fading the lower your hand slipped down the front of your shorts. 

“Oh, shit.” You mumbled. Your fingertips grazed against your clit, finding that you were already soaking. You hadn't touched yourself before then, but it felt like you'd been going at it for hours. 

Daryl's muffled grunt came through the radio, either annoyance or something else. Maybe hearing you make those noises was enough to get him hard. You didn't know he'd been hard off and on since he got on his bike. 

“I don't, I don't think you've got a lot of time-”

Heavy boots sounded coming up the stairs again, quicker than your racing heartbeat. The sound sent a bolt of excitement through your chest, knowing he was ready to start flipping over tables just to find you, just to touch you. 

“Warmer.” You stifled your moan, moving your fingers quicker against your clit. He paused for a second, you could hear him at the end of the hall. He walked into Michonne's bedroom and you had to fight away the laugh that threatened to give you away. 

“Cold.”

His footsteps echoed down the hall as he came back to your room once again. You held your breath and slowed your movements, watching through the cracks in the closet door. 

God, the sight of him standing in your doorway looking for you was enough to come to. He looked so… dedicated, fueled by the motivation to get you in his hands and make you regret teasing him like that.

“Hot.” Your voice was barely a whisper as you watched, your wide eyes illuminated by the daylight through the lines in the door. He walked into your room, looking under the bed, getting on his knees. 

He stood, flicking his head to get the hair from his face. 

He flipped the comforter of your bed and it almost made you giggle that he thought you could somehow be hiding under it. 

Your heart stopped when he turned his head to look at the closet door. The only other place you could be.

His boots sounded like they were weighed down with bricks as he approached the door, each step sending your heart racing faster and faster. You pulled your hands from your shorts and unbuttoned them, the sound making him let out the scoff of a man very pleased with himself. 

You turned off the radio as he slid the doors open, greeting you with a lopsided grin.

“I win.” His proclamation was almost innocent, proud of himself and eager to make his accomplishment known. 

“Yeah.” Your fingers worked to unbuckle his belt as you grinned up at him. “What happened to three hours?”

“Light traffic.” 

You laughed as he went back to shut and lock your door, turning on your speaker in the process.  He didn't want to risk anyone hearing the sounds he intended on dragging out of you, and ruining the moment. It was a sweet gesture. 

He was back in front of you in a few short seconds to continue the game of undressing each other, something that could've been done quicker if you just did it to yourselves. That would be a lot less fun. 

His hands on your face caught you off guard. Gentle fingertips graced your lips, the scent of hand soap filling your nose, and you smiled. He'd washed his fucking hands. 

“God.” You shook your head in disbelief, unzipping his pants as you slowly walked him backwards to your bed. “You're something else.”

He snorted, slipping his thumb between your lips. “Yeah?”

“Mhm. You washed your hands.” 

“Course I did.” 

He sat down on the bottom of your bed, his hands moving from your face to slide down your sides, resting at your hips. “Been wantin’ to feel you inside. Ain't gonna do that with dirt and blood on my fingers.”

You closed your eyes and sighed, from his words and the feel of said hands tugging your shorts down your thighs. “Somethin’ else.” You repeated. 

Although Daryl looked absolutely breathtaking covered in blood, you were grateful he'd been so thoughtful. UTIs in the apocalypse were no joke. 

You worked on the buttons of your shirt as he pushed his pants down, and you'd be lying if the sight of him pulling his cock out didn't make you swoon.

His hands were clean, but he still looked like he'd been through hell and back. He was sweaty, his biceps gleaming, the crevices of his muscles made darker from the dirt and whatever else he'd been rolling in out there. His hair messy and ruffled from driving god knows how fast on that motorcycle. 

The feeling of his hot breath on your bare stomach had you sniffing in surprise. You opened your eyes and looked down, letting out a soft whimper at the sight of the top of his head. He planted a kiss between your ribs, keeping his hands on your sides to keep you steady as he worked his way down your stomach, every other kiss his tongue would slip out of his lips and trace deep circles in your skin. 

You watched him bury his face in the front of your panties, nuzzling his nose against the fabric before breathing in like he was smelling flowers. You couldn't help but grin at the comparison, your fingers now in his hair and brushing the tangles out. 

“Smell-” he muttered through kisses to the fabric, “-so good.” He kissed up to the waistband, moving from the front to the side where your hip bones sat. He opened his mouth and bit down, his teeth grinding your skin between them, causing you to let out a rather loud whine of surprise. 

“C'mere.” He didn't wait for you to respond or even acknowledge him before grabbing hold of your ass in his hands, lifting you and bringing you into his lap. 

Being manhandled like that was another thing that drove you crazy. You whimpered and shifted in his lap, sucking in a sharp breath when you felt his heavy cock brushing against the crotch of your panties. 

He groaned, the sound muffled from the way he grits his teeth. He must've been caught off guard by how embarrassingly wet you were, he could feel all of it against his bare dick. Warm and wet, fabric catching and grinding on his length, he had to focus on his breathing to avoid coming right there and then. 

“Here.” He muttered, his fingers looping in the sides of your panties and urging you to maneuver your legs so he could pull them off of you. Once he did he shuddered, the breath vibrating in his chest. 

The sight of you, wet and on partial display, sitting right on his dick, it could've killed him. He pulled himself together and moved his hands between your thighs, wasting no time in touching you like he'd dreamed of for months. 

“Hmm.” He grunted, his jaw visibly flexing from how hard he was clenching down. 

You could barely keep your eyes open. It was a lot. He moved his fingers the same way they felt, rough and forceful. He tried to be smart, circling your clit, lightly pinching it, but he lost his patience fairly quickly and began moving all four of his fingers in flat circles over your entire pussy. 

“Mmmm, god.” You shuddered, grabbing onto his shoulders which felt massive under your hands. He was being sloppy and impatient, but god it felt amazing. He was enjoying touching you like this almost as much as you were receiving it. 

He looked up at you and you lost it. Seeing those eyes on your face had you gasping, trembling, your thighs trying to close around his hand but his waist prevented it. You forced yourself to look at him, your eyes flickering from his eyes, wide and attentive, doing the same thing yours were, to his parted lips. His fingers were relentless on your slippery cunt, growing more rough and fast, sliding over your clit and quickly overstimulating you. 

You tried to crawl off of him and get away from his hands, but he kept you in place with his free hand and dipped a slick finger inside you. 

“Nn-” you gasped, your hips jerking in his lap. He held you tight against him, his finger too thick and too hot, it was too much, you tossed your head back and whined like you'd been stabbed. 

“Fuck.” Daryl whispered, his eyes still on your face, filled with awe at the sight in front of him. His dick twitched under you and his hand, precum oozing from the slit in his tip. Your cheeks looked like you'd been slapped, red and hot, and tears beaded at the corners of your wet eyes, which couldn't decide if they wanted to stay closed or look back at him in something akin to horror. 

He curled his finger, a simple experiment, and the way your hips ground down against him led him to continue, his middle finger digging deeper and deeper inside you, curling and twisting until you actually begged him to stop. His thumb rubbing quick and deep circles against your clit was more intense than anything you could ever dream of doing to yourself.

“Stop, s’too much.” You slurred, pushing on his shoulders. 

“Alright, alright, shh.” He cooed, drawing his fingers from between your legs and wiping them against your trembling lips.

“Gonna,” you shivered against his chest, fighting to catch your breath. “Gonna show you what that's like.” 

He grinned and nodded. 

Once you gave him the nod to continue, he grabbed onto your waist and laid you down on your back. The cool air felt amazing against your throbbing cunt, but that relief was soon replaced by Daryl's hot mouth. 

“Oh, god, Daryl, wait.” You laughed, a mix of nervousness and excitement. If he was as sloppy and eager as he was with his fingers then you'd be in for the filthiest oral of your life. 

“Shh, c'mon.” He breathed, his breath tickling your clit. “Lemme taste.” His eyes flicked up to you and chills ran down your entire body. “Jus' a taste.”

You breathed, looking down at him over your torso. The image of him between your thighs had a tired smile spreading on your lips and you nodded, earning a wicked grin from Daryl. He was a whore for winning, that was for sure.

He lowered his mouth back on you, keeping his eyes on your face as he tried different movements. His gaze had you fucking stunlocked. You couldn't look away, couldn't close your eyes or move from your position, propped up on your elbows, watching him watch you. 

You were right, he was just as primal as he was with his fingers. He licked you like you were the inside of a chip bag, digging his tongue into every crevice and fold, determined on making you cum on his lips.

He was doing a damn good job at it. 

You groaned and took in a trembling breath. Your eyelids grew heavy and it became hard to watch him. 

“Oh my god.” You wailed weakly. Your thighs started twitching, bumping against the sides of his head. You tried to sit still, but your orgasm came and your hips took on a life of their own, bucking and grinding up against his fervid mouth. 

He grunted, grinding his own hips into the mattress. He panted as he watched you cum, having lost his breath giving you the best head of your fucking life. 

“Like the way you do that.” He crawled up your body, leaving wet kisses up your torso, giving special attention to the nipples he neglected earlier. “Never seen somethin' like that b‘fore.” 

You moaned in response, grabbing his hair. Your heart was breaking a goddamn record, it had to be, it never raced like this even when running from walkers in the woods. 

He took a nipple between his teeth, rolling and biting the same way he bit your hip. You whimpered and gasped, trying to regain your bearings, but he made it so, so hard. Especially when he tortured your nipples like he was trying to pierce them with his teeth. 

“Never thought you'd be so…” You were cut off with a yelp when your other nipple was pinched, making you suddenly extremely grateful that he didn't pinch your clit like that. 

“What?” He muttered, his teeth still clamped around your nipple, and rolled his hips against you. His bare dick pushed through your folds, quickly becoming soaked. 

You groaned, low and deep. 

“Aggressive.” You finished. 

“Wan’ me to stop?” He pulled his mouth off of you momentarily, now looking down at your poor messy face. It made him feel proud, knowing he was the reason you looked like such a mess. Hair already wild and frazzled, eyes still wet and cheeks even darker in color. 

“I can be gentle.” He drawled with a sick grin, and ground his pelvis into you again. 

Another groan dragged through your raw throat. “Nnn, no.” 

He snorted, and snaked his hand down between your bodies. 

You drew in a deep breath. You felt the tip of him drag through your folds again, just as much of a tease as his voice, up to your raw clit and your aching hole. 

Now Daryl was the one shuddering against you. You could hear his teeth grinding together as he lined himself up with you, his shoulders heaving above you, and finally, he pushed in. 

He was too rushed and too forceful, so his head just slipped back up your folds and drove against your clit. You whimpered at the sharp tingles, pulling your bottom lip into your mouth to muffle the noises.

Daryl muttered a curse and lined himself up again, learning from his mistake, and pushed in slower. 

Your body trembled. Your back arched, your jaw dropped, and your eyes rolled back into your head. It was indescribable. He was so thick and you were so sensitive, one would think all the foreplay would've made it easy for him to slip inside, but your walls pushed against him in desperate protest. You tried to relax but it was all so much, your cunt was spent and fought against you and his dick.

He won, again, and bottomed out in the first thrust. 

The sounds that left both of your mouths were ten times better than any song your stereo could play. Daryl choked on a gasp, the sweet sound melting into your name. 

You could've sobbed. You almost did, your moan bubbling against your lips, low and whiny. 

Again your name was whimpered, and you responded with a strangled whimper of your own, your fists curled around his leather vest with all the strength left in your hands. 

You could tell he was trying his best to treat you right after the torture he put you through, dragging his dick out slow and gentle, but each time he pushed back into you his exhale came out ragged and raw. 

It was funny, how you were begging him to ease up on you earlier but now you were about to beg him to fuck you until you couldn't breathe. You supposed that's what your body wanted the entire time, his mouth and fingers were amazing, but your greedy walls wanted his cock more than anything. 

“More, Daryl, please-” 

You barely got the words out before he was obliging, snapping his hips forward like he'd been waiting for your permission. The blunt force of the thrust knocked a crude moan from you. 

You got what you wanted, he started fucking you until you literally couldn't breathe. His chest had fallen against yours, and his arms slipped under your back to hold you tight against him. 

He buried his face in your neck, his teeth and lips making the skin there wet and red. It was incredibly hot how much he enjoyed biting, it was so animalistic and primal, something he didn't think too deeply into before doing it. It wasn't that he wanted to mark you, claim you, he just wanted to bite, bite, and bite. 

The way your moans changed to sobs of ecstasy sent a jolt of pleasure through his dick. With a deep growl, he pulled your hips up hard, pelvis rolling down to meet you with a swift and forceful motion, sending a surge of pleasure through your walls and lower stomach. 

You moaned something, a mix of about seven different words, your core fluttering and flipping each time he rammed his hips into you, forcing his dick as deep as possible. 

He clamped his teeth around the skin where neck meets shoulder, another way to keep you in place, as if his arms and legs weren't doing a good enough job. He'd twisted his legs around your ankles, something you couldn't picture or comprehend, but your feet were rendered immobile by his thighs and it was sexy enough for you not to question it. 

“Fuck!” He growled, slamming his pelvis into you hard, knocking the breath from your lungs. 

“God oh, hnn-Daryl!” You whimpered with your eyes squeezed shut. He was hammering into you like you were paying a goddamn debt, knocking your headboard into the wall so hard you were sure Carol or Rick would burst in with their guns drawn, thinking a walker had you fighting for your life. 

“Shit.” He choked, and came without any further warning, his hands moving from your back to grip your hips and yank you up on his cock. You cried out, wriggling your feet free from his legs to twist around his waist. 

He blurted your name into your neck, gasping and panting. He rolled his hips with quick and frantic movements, fucking his cum deep inside you. He ground down into you until his body shook, and then his muscles relaxed. 

“Turn over.” You breathed, and he did. 

He was expecting you to climb off, maybe fall down beside him and share the mutual blissful exhaustion. 

You kept his softening dick inside you as you settled on top of him, managing a weak smirk when you saw the sleepy confusion on his face.

Your hips rolled, and he whimpered.

You savored the way confusion bled to regret, his eyebrows relaxing and his lips parting. 

His hands grabbed onto your hips, wanting to hold you in place and prevent your walls from dragging up his sensitive dick, but he knew he deserved it. You told him you'd show him what it was like. 

“How's it feel, hmm.” You moved your hips back and forth in his lap, biting your lip at the many stages of guilt and pleasure that went through his sweaty face. 

He couldn't speak, so he just settled on a nod, his eyes falling closed as his throat bobbed with a dry swallow. 

You went on for another minute before you physically couldn't anymore. You gave one last roll of your hips, making sure to clench down on him, and lifted up until his dick was dragged out of you. 

“Goddamn.” He mumbled. 

It felt amazing to be empty and bare, it was enough to make you moan, your body falling to the side to lay next to him. The silence was welcome.

"Daryl?" You breathed, using the back of your hand to push your hair from your face.

"Hm?" The sound was gravelly and sleepy, he was clearly only seconds away from sleep.

"You ever drive like that again and I'll tell Carol."

"Not my fault ya' decided ya' wanted to fuck me now."

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams @my1fx @jinx-nanami

🫣 I’m not sure how everyone feels about this but would you be open to making a Beth x Daryl smut ending to the scene when they were drinking together in the cabin ?

I'm sorry but I don't do character x character! Only x reader or character x reader x character

PLEASEEE consider doing more dark daryl and rick (heavy on daryl) im obsessed with your writing, its SOOO GOOD

I have one in the works right now 😈 where Daryl gets fed up with readers teasing :D

THE WALKING DEAD (2010 - 2022) Season 2 (deleted scene)

I love Pinterest because one second you'll be looking at the best pictures of Daryl that exist on the Internet like these

And then literally 2 clicks later it's full of images made in 2012 by the horniest middle aged women

LIKE WHAT IS THIS PLEASE where are the people making these I need to talk to them 13 years later

HELLO????? WHAT???????????????

Stars in The Dark part 2?👀

Yes 🖐️ Send me more details on what you're imagining 👏

Ur writing is crazy hot

thank you so goddamn much anon it means a lot I'm glad people like it