Daryl Dixon Fanfic - Blog Posts

Cuddling with cg!daryl during a storm...

You were little, kneeling on the bed to look out of the window. The wind howled, blowing around objects in the Alexandrian streets, thunder roared, and lightning flashed, lighting up your surroundings. Daryl was laying beside you, an arm tucked under his head. He looked up at you with soft eyes as you watched the storm with the childike wonder that he always admired. He saw how you looked in fascination as you watched the zig-zag like lines of lightning strike, and how after, you would sort of prepare yourself for the possible loud roar of thunder. Soon, your knees became sore, so you lay back down beside Daryl, tucking yourself in his large arms. His cuddles and hugs were so comforting, it felt like a huge weighted blanket full of love and care was wrapped around you. Daryl rolled over slightly to be able to grab your pacifier from the beside table, and he popped it in your mouth, which you suckled happily. You closed your eyes and burrowed further into his warm embrace, one of his hands coming up to stroke your cheek, then your head. He looked down at you as if you were the most precious thing to him, which you were. You were like a delicate little flower which he would never dare to harm. He would never harm you, he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he did. You lay there in your caregivers arms, your eyes slowly fluttering shut, body relaxing.. the last thing you remember is a soft kiss being placed on your forehead.

hiii could you by chance possibly write some headcanons about daryl with a girly girl he treats like his pretty princess? like her nails look like this bc his hands look like THAT 😩👌💪

a/n: thank u for sending this in to me nonnie bcos i have been all up in my daryl dixon feels and i just want him to smother me

daryl would ABSOLUTELY treat you like the prettiest princess in the whole entire world !! when he catches you doing your make up in the morning for work, or just because you like doing it, he stands there and admires you the entire time. you catch him smiling at you in the mirror, eyes full of awe as he watches you. “yer so pretty,” he’d mumble, almost like a sigh. because he couldn’t get over how beautiful you were. he loves to take you out on dates every friday night, letting you get all dressed up and showing you off whenever you went. he loves the look he gets from guys when they look at you on his arm, and it always makes him a little cocky because yes. he, the local mechanic who was covered in oil and other engine fluids 99% of the time, pulled you.

he loves to take you into whatever store you want— wether you have the intention of buying anything or you’re simply just looking. if he catches you eyeing off an item of clothing he always tells you to try it on, and even if you don’t plan on buying it, he’ll either buy it ( ignoring your protests ) or he’ll sneak back to the store a few days later and leave it on the bed for you to wake up to when he’s left for work in the morning.

he loves it when you get your nails done too, and he especially loves paying for them as well. you always ask him what colour you should get, or if you guys have some wedding or something to go to, you always get a colour that’ll match what his wearing — if not you always match his eyes.

daryl also has several nicknames for you, such as baby, sweetie, pretty princess, darlin’, gorgeous girl— the list keeps going on and on. you’re keeping track almost every day because he’s always got a new nickname for you but each and every time it’s making you all giddy like a lovesick teenager.

𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖈𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝘀𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲, daryl dixon. ( teaser )

▏﹒﹒ fic rating: R-- this fic is meant for mature ( 18+ ) audiences only. minors do not interact. ▏﹒﹒ warnings: violence, death, walking dead level gore, suicide / suicidal ideations, mentions + descriptions of abuse and mental illness, suggestive / sexual themes. these are warnings needed throughout the series. will be updated if needed. ▏﹒﹒ desc: the silence is often deafening. you find, however, that it is easier this way, easier to fade away. to blend into the background, to be another blur of a face— easily forgotten, & overlooked. you prefer it that way, the solitude. after all, if you are alone who will be around to question the parts about you that you don’t quite understand? the stoic expression that hardly cracks, the calcutative mannerisms, the burns on your forearms? you don’t mean to seem apathetic. it is just easier that way. ▏﹒﹒ notes: this fic is still in writing! this is simply a teaser for it & the first chapter will be posted soon. a taglist for this will be created, so if you're interested pls let me know <3

fiddling with the woven bracelets, her gaze stays glued to the way they rub against her wrists. he can’t help but feel like there's something different in her expression-- almost like there was finally something there. there is something that aches deep within him as he watches her once stoic facade break slowly like glass chipping underneath the pressure of crisp, harsh winter wind. “have you ever heard of the story of the two birds on the wire?” 

his eyebrows furrow, lips twitching downward. “naw,” he tells her. “i ain’t never ‘eard of it.”

“well, there's two birds on a wire,” she starts. he watches as her eyes finally look up, but not at him; part of him is disappointed that she didn't quite catch his eyes, but the other is sure he would have froze on the spot, like a gazelle in headlights; her gaze, much like others have described, is blinding, and he was sure he wasn’t too fond of anything remotely close to spotlight. she watches the fire in front of them crackling and in the embers glow he can see pain etched in the cracks chipped in her broken look. he didn’t think his chest could tighten any more than it already has. its become a common thing with her now. hes sure that, with her, hes never sure just about anything anymore. “one bird says c’mon and flies away, the other watches ‘em close and says i'm tired. tells ‘em that he wants to fly, too, but he's lying, because see, they’re two birds of a feather, swore to each other that they are always gonna stay together, but ones never going to let go of that wire. so the one that does want to fly is left with an impossible choice.”

see, he can remember quite clearly the day he finally felt understood-- heard, even if he didn’t speak a single word. he associates such a day with the smell of burning wood, maple tree sap, and the feeling of wet grass and moonshine on his skin. daryl dixon also remembers this as the day he fell hard, harder than that day at the quarry, and boy did he fall hard that day.

“does the bird stay with him on the wire, or fly away?”

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.

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

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!

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

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