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A/N: The first half is just fluff, sfw! The smut starts below the 'read more' cut! There's a few warnings! MDNI past that cut! 🔞
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Losing someone never got any easier. Not after all the years you've spent on the road, all the years since the world fell to the walkers... You weren't close with the soldier who died today, but watching her get torn apart by walkers was still heartbreaking. A mission gone wrong, her truck flipped, got swarmed, partner couldn't get to her in time. You saw the sorrow in Mercer's eyes as one of his soldiers fell - he forced himself to watch, unable to do anything to help her.
Your shift was dismissed early in account of the day's events, and you returned home to Daryl sooner than he was expecting. The moment you walked in the door, he could see it in your eyes.
"Wha' happened?" he asked seconds after you closed the door behind yourself. A tear slipped down your cheek and he walked over to you, fully on guard, ready to move at your command.
"Genevieve, the red head..." you trail off, your head falling. "Eaten alive," is all you can mutter out.
Daryl pulls you against his chest, caressing your head gently. He didn't know her well either, but any death was sad, especially a gruesome one like that.
"'M sorry ya had t' see that," he mutters into your hair, stroking it softly as you try to pull yourself together against him.
"I'm so sick of people dying," you mumble.
"Me too."
"Where're the kids?" you eventually stand up straight, wiping your eyes and taking a deep breath, not wanting either of them to know what happened. They were finally starting to feel safe here, and you wanted that to last.
"In their room, using the record player," Daryl gestures toward the larger bedroom that the two kids shared. Both bedrooms in the apartment were very small, but the 'master' you guys had agreed to give to the kids, so they could each comfortably have their own twin bed. You guys didn't really use your room for anything other than sleeping, so it didn't matter. Daryl was always looking out for the best interest of his niece and nephew - and you of course.
"She never stops with it, you really made her so happy," you stroke his arm affectionately before walking around him to peek into the room, seeing the brother and sister softly singing along to one of the songs.
"They have dinner yet?" you ask, noting that the sun had begun to set.
"We were waitin for you, was gonna go get it," Daryl says, reaching for his vest where it hung by the door. His thoughtfulness always touched you, warming your chest and making you blush.
"Let's all go," you suggest, wanting to get out of the very loud apartment as the upstairs 'neighbors' started playing their music again.
It looks like Daryl might protest, but then he doesn't, instead nodding and heading to the room to knock and push it open, calling the kids out.
The walk to where the Commonwealth served dinner was relatively short - about ten minutes. Dog trailed alongside Judith as the kids walked a few paces ahead of you and Daryl. His right hand rested on his holstered knife, while his left hand occasionally brushed against yours.
Watching Daryl pay for takeout with money from his paycheck was probably the weirdest thing you'd ever seen. Getting served a decent meal in white styrofoam containers from a kitchen... It was all so bizarre. Not to mention being responsible for two children alongside Daryl... It felt like playing house. You liked it, but it was really weird.
The walk back was comfortably quiet, the kids talking to one another about music as you and Daryl trailed along, holding most of the food. Daryl tried to carry it all, but you didn't let him, as per usual. He was always trying to do everything, for everyone, and you kept him balanced.
The music upstairs hadn't quieted much by the time you got in and settled down on the floor. The lack of furniture sucked, but at least you guys had beds and a locked door.
"How was yer day?" Daryl asks as he divides out the containers to each of the kids, making sure to split the sides evenly amongst the three of you before getting any for himself.
"What?" Judith asks in a louder tone, unable to hear Daryl very well between his raspy drawl and the loud music.
"How was yer day?!" Daryl repeated a little louder, propping one arm on his bent knee and opening Dog's container where he sat beside you, across from the kids. You loved how much Daryl cared for Dog, enough to get him his own takeout!
"Here boy," he drawls, setting the container off to the side for the dog to eat behind you guys.
"It was great! I made a new friend!" Judith exclaimed with a smile. RJ nodded in agreement, never having a whole lot to say.
"Oh yeah?" Daryl furrows a brow skeptically for a second before changing his expression, covering his anxiety for her sake. You knew Daryl was still very on-edge about the people of the Commonwealth, and took protecting Rick's children very seriously.
"She got me a record!" Judith holds up the Motorhead record with a grin.
"That was awfully nice of her!" you smile.
"You ever heard of Motorhead?" she asks you guys, and you shake your head no with your mouth full.
"That's good stuff," Daryl responds, and you're not very surprised he recognized the band.
"Daryl?"
"Yeah?" he responds distractedly, shooing Dog from your food and trying to eat his own.
"Can I get an allowance?" Judith's question catches both of you off guard, and you smile over at Daryl as he eyes you up, shocked that he is in this position. You can practically see the thoughts going through his head, and giggle under your breath.
"Can we wait a little while? Til my job settles - then we'll talk bout it again?" he offers, nodding at her as she agrees silently, shooting you another look. You chew your food silently, smiling at your rice as you take in the moment.
"So... we can stay?" she presses. She reminds you a lot of Rick and Michonne.
"Do ya wanna stay?" Daryl questions, always putting their needs above his own. He looks at RJ and you as well. "Even after Alexandria's all cleaned up?"
"I do!" RJ finally speaks up with a small smile. You grin at the boy, glad he voiced his thoughts.
"Yeah?" Daryl seems to be thinking the same as you.
"It's nice," Judith says solemnly. "I think as long as my mom knows where to find us, I want to stay."
Daryl looks over at you, expecting an answer, but you shrug, not wanting to discuss it in front of the kids. He recognizes your silence and doesn't push it, instead eating his own food.
After getting the kids to bed, you and Daryl settled in for the night. Pulling on one of his black shirts after a quick shower, you brushed your hair in front of the dirty old mirror above the sink. Daryl was changing on his side of the bed, shooing Dog out of the room toward the kids room, and closing the door behind him.
You felt his eyes on you as he plopped into the bed very inelegantly, tossing one arm behind his head as he laid on top of the thin sheets, his blue eyes studying you.
"So... do ya wanna stay?" he brings up his question from earlier.
"I think it's good for now," you start, placing your brush down and approaching him at the bed. He pulls the sheets back on your side for you, making you grin down at him lovingly, always appreciating the small gestures.
"The kids are happy, have lots of people to socialize with... I think we should give it a good chance."
Daryl chews on his lip and nods, deep in thought. You settle in beside him and pull the blankets over yourself, cold in your lack of pants and the very thin walls that did little to trap the heat in the house. Rain pattered lightly on the windowpane, drowning out some of the music upstairs.
"I missed you," you mutter, rolling onto your right side and moving closer to him, resting your head on his chest. His left arm wraps around you, holding you close, and he hums.
"Ya been home for a few hours now," he comments teasingly.
"I always miss you. Even when I'm in the bathroom," you look up at him with a playful grin and he rolls his eyes.
"Yer weird," he drawls, rubbing your arm affectionately.
You hum against his muscular chest, trailing your hand up and down his muscular torso over top of his shirt. At first, the gesture was just affectionate, taking him in, appreciating the closeness. But a familiar ache began to build in your body and you found your hand trailing beneath his shirt, stroking the curves of his muscles, his scars, and the light trail of hair that led down into his pants...
"Y/N?" he finally speaks up as you toy with his waistband, his voice low and raspy.
"Hmm?" you respond lazily, more focused on the sliver of skin that was exposed by his shirt riding up.
"Yer gropin me," he taunts, and you finally look up, your face close to his as he looks down at you. Your eyes drop from his piercing blue ones down to his thin pink lips.
"Want me to stop?" you breathe, already suspecting the answer.
"The walls are thin..." he protests, but you see the hunger in his eyes, and feel his arm wrapped around you grab you tighter.
"I can be quiet..." you murmur, pushing yourself up just an inch or so, bringing your lips closer to his. Daryl's breath hitches, his eyes locked on your lips.
He grunts before leaning forward just enough to close the distance between you, placing his lips against yours softly. A hum of satisfaction escapes your lips as you lean into the kiss, pushing yourself up onto one arm without breaking it. You lean over Daryl as you kiss him tenderly, slowly, not in any rush.
His arm pulls you closer by your back and you toss the blanket off yourself so that you can straddle him, never breaking the kiss. His lips move slowly against yours, unconsciously teasing you, letting himself build up the confidence to do more. Daryl's taking his time, soaking in the moment, as both of his hands find your waist, gripping it securely but not rough. You can already feel him growing aroused beneath you, a satisfied smirk toying at your lips as you finally pull away.
Daryl huffs as you pull your face away from his, until you dip your head down into his neck. He instinctively moves his head to the left to give you more access, and you place slow open mouthed kisses down his neck. He groans quietly, his grip on your waist getting a little tighter, one of his large hands trailing up your back and under your(his) shirt.
Daryl grasps your back by your bare flesh, wrapping his arms around your body as you kiss his stubbly jaw. His breathing alone is enough to turn you on - how unsteady and breathy it was near your ear, hearing how much of an effect you had on the tough man. You loved that you had just as much of an effect on him as he did on you.
"Let's take this off," you mumble, moving back to a sitting position in his lap, pulling his forward by his torso. He lets you pull his shirt his head - he's come to trust you completely, no longer ashamed or embarrassed by his scarred body, knowing how much you adore it. He still finds it hard to believe that you are so attracted to him, but you prove it time and time again with your actions.
You carelessly toss his shirt somewhere on the floor, moving your hands to caress his broad, bare shoulders. The moonlight reflecting on his body only makes his muscles look even more mouthwatering, and it takes a lot of self control on your part not to rush this moment.
"Yer turn," he mutters, toying with the bottom of your shirt. He's not unsure of himself, but he always requires a little extra reassurance or verbal consent from you in these kinds of moments. He's always worried about pushing you too far, or making you uncomfortable - no matter how many times you sleep together.
You lift your arms as a signal for him to pull your (his) shirt over your head, and he does just that, tossing it in the same direction you threw his. He admires you for a moment, taking in your bare chest as you are sat on top of him. You watch as his blue eyes wander up and down your exposed body, sitting in his lap with nothing but your panties on. Daryl wraps his strong arms around you again, grasping your butt affectionately as he leans in to place a kiss on the swell of your breasts.
"So beautiful," he mumbles into your skin, almost too quiet for you to hear. He moves to flip you guys over, carefully, taking his time so he doesn't hurt you. He positions his body weight on one arm, your legs wrapped around his torso still. A shiver goes down your body, a combination of his skin on you and the chilly air.
"Ya cold?" Daryl asks, always observant, and you shrug as you caress the curves of his biceps absentmindedly.
"A little," you mutter, the coldness being the least of your worries. "You should warm me up..." you flirt, tilting your chin up to meet his eye more directly. He rolls his eyes playfully at you, pulling the blanket up over his body so that it is also draped over yours.
"A'right," he drawls, leaning down to kiss your lips once before ducking into your neck, kissing you down to your bare shoulders. You hold onto his back, eyes fluttering as his lips caress your skin.
His hand that isn't supporting his weight caresses down your body, trailing over your breasts, pinching a nipple softly before continuing its way down your stomach. You wriggle under him, eager for him to properly touch you, and he can feel your impatience. His lips curve up in a smirk against your neck and he grasps the bottom of one of your thighs, moving his face back to yours to kiss you properly. His tongue brushes your bottom lip, asking permission, and you eagerly open your mouth to deepen the kiss. He groans at the combination of your eagerness to give yourself to him, and the feeling of your tongue against his.
Finally, Daryl places his hand where you need him most, over your thinly covered core. You accidentally buck your hips against his hand when his finger brushes your clit over top of your panties, and he chuckles into your mouth. Without wasting anymore time, he slides his hand inside of your panties, stroking your folds, feeling how wet you are. You moan against into his mouth, his tongue entering your mouth at the same time.
The combination of feelings covers your body in goosebumps, and he slowly starts rubbing soft circles on your clit. Eyes squeezed shut, your back arches against his, pressing your bare chest against his muscular one as he teases you with his fingers.
"Mm, feel good?" Daryl mutters as he ducks his mouth to the other side of your neck, nibbling at the soft skin. You nod your head ferociously, mouth hung open in pleasure, grasping his biceps tightly.
"Fuck, Daryl," you whimper, and he shifts his fingers downward so he can enter two fingers into you. You press your head against his bare shoulder, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as he slowly but deeply curls his fingers up inside of you.
"Mmm," he mumbles as he sucks at your collarbone, marking your body.
"Nghh, Daryl - I need you," you moan as you feel yourself getting closer than you normally would be. He carefully removes his fingers and props himself onto his knees - the blanket falls off of him, and he stares you in the eye as he sucks off each of his fingers. You wriggle and whimper beneath him, completely drunk on him. He slides your panties down and quickly removes his shorts and boxers at the same time.
He lays down beside you, turning you onto your side and pulling the blanket back up to keep you warm. "Ya okay?" he double checks, kissing your shoulder blade, and you nod eagerly. You feel him guide himself to your core, rubbing his hard length against you to get himself wet, and you buck your hips backwards against him, whimpering again.
Finally, he slips in, just the tip at first, letting you adjust. You moan in pleasure and pain, leaning your head back and one arm back in search of his body. He wraps a large arm around you, bringing it up your stomach and chest, holding you tight against his bare chest. The other arm goes under your head, and he's basically spooning you now, slowly sliding in further, an inch at a time, until he bottoms out inside of you.
You whimper his name and Daryl takes that as a sign to start moving, but very slowly. He's doing everything with a purpose right now - he's making love to you. He moves slow and deep, passionately grinding himself into you. He grunts in your ear, holding you securely against himself, his thrusts getting deeper each time.
"Fuck Y/N," he rasps in your ear, moving his arm so that he can grab your hip.
"Ugh, need to feel you," you moan, and he nods against your shoulder, pulling out quickly and moving to shift himself on top of you. You eagerly link your ankles around his bare torso, and he slides back in with ease, filling you up from a new angle.
Hastily, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down so that his chest is flush against yours, as close as you can possibly be to him. He hugs your body against his, moving slow and deep, thrusting into you with a purpose. He pays attention to how you react to him, and once he finds the perfect angle, you cry out. He grips your one thigh, lifting it higher on his waist and hitting your g-spot over and over again. He maintains the slow, sensual pace, taking his time making love to you. It was an intoxicating feeling, having him all over you, determined to make you feel good - being soft and sweet and sensual with you. The emotional experience of it alone was almost enough to have you reach your high. You whimper in pleasure, biting at his shoulder to try to keep your voice down.
"I'm close," you moan against his skin, and he tugs your thigh up even high, pinning it with his body, determined to get you to cum first. He kisses you passionately, swallowing your moans as you get closer and closer to your orgasm, until you finally fall over the edge and he has to put a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. He doesn't stop his thrusts, going slightly faster, riding out your orgasm and chasing his own now.
He starts getting sloppy, leaning his face down into your neck, dropping your thigh and hugging your body against his. You feel his sweat mingling with your own, his hot skin against yours all over your body, the overwhelming feeling of Daryl on you - in you.
He grunts your name into your neck and snaps his hips one more time before pulling out quickly and stroking himself a few times before spilling his seed onto your lower stomach, grunting and groaning into your shoulder. He carefully detangles himself from you and collapses at your side, his breathing heavy and uneven. Daryl reaches out for some tissues from the nightstand, cleaning you up himself, being gentle and tender with you.
Once you're cleaned up, he lays back down and extends his arm, and you eagerly curl into his side, throwing a leg over his thigh and cuddling into his bare, sweaty chest.
"That was amazing," you mutter breathlessly. He nods in agreement, kissing your forehead.
"Still cold?" he asks, reaching for the blanket. You shake your head with a grin.
"Nah, you warmed me up. Now I'm hot."
Daryl chuckles at you, looking satisfied with himself and dropping the edge of the blanket, instead pulling you closer against his nude body.
I really want to write a Hound x Stark oc series, so I've been writing little snippets of potential chapters. Would you guys actually want to read this? I'm excited about it but idk if the audience is there...?
Reader would be eldest daughter of Ned Stark, Sansa is still betrothed to Joffrey, reader is essentially captive at King's Landing as leverage, Arya escaped and is presumed dead. Mostly cannon.
Here's a snippet of a scene I wrote.
“The man who tries to stop me is a dead man.” Then he scoffs. “Unless he’s on fire,” Sandor laughed bitterly.
“So you’re really leaving…”
“Don’t sound so disappointed, dove,” he rasps. The name he’d given you sends a shiver down your spine. Unlike ‘little wolf,’ which was what he called you in your feisty moments - ‘dove’ sounded endearing, soft, almost affectionate - like you were his peace.
“I’ll never see you again,” you mutter, unable to hide your displeasure.
A pause.
“Can take you with me…” Sandor stands from your bed, immediately towering over you. “I’d keep you safe.”
His offer catches you completely off guard. You would be a liability, a burden. Why would he offer to take you with him? Make his life harder?
“Why?” it was barely above a whisper.
There was a long, heavy pause as he just looked at you, his intense brown eyes burning into yours.
His jaw tightened, his adams apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly.
“You know why.”
Those three little words were a confession. Confirming what you already suspected, what he tried to suppress.
The words hung between you. For a moment, neither of you moved.
The dark room was charged with tension thick enough to cut with his sword. Barely anything had actually been said, but everything had changed.
He admitted his feelings for you, in his own way. He wanted you to come with him. He came here for you. Whether to say goodbye or to rescue you - he was here for you.
A/N: The first half is just fluff, sfw! The smut starts below the 'read more' cut! There's a few warnings! MDNI past that cut! 🔞
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Losing someone never got any easier. Not after all the years you've spent on the road, all the years since the world fell to the walkers... You weren't close with the soldier who died today, but watching her get torn apart by walkers was still heartbreaking. A mission gone wrong, her truck flipped, got swarmed, partner couldn't get to her in time. You saw the sorrow in Mercer's eyes as one of his soldiers fell - he forced himself to watch, unable to do anything to help her.
Your shift was dismissed early in account of the day's events, and you returned home to Daryl sooner than he was expecting. The moment you walked in the door, he could see it in your eyes.
"Wha' happened?" he asked seconds after you closed the door behind yourself. A tear slipped down your cheek and he walked over to you, fully on guard, ready to move at your command.
"Genevieve, the red head..." you trail off, your head falling. "Eaten alive," is all you can mutter out.
Daryl pulls you against his chest, caressing your head gently. He didn't know her well either, but any death was sad, especially a gruesome one like that.
"'M sorry ya had t' see that," he mutters into your hair, stroking it softly as you try to pull yourself together against him.
"I'm so sick of people dying," you mumble.
"Me too."
"Where're the kids?" you eventually stand up straight, wiping your eyes and taking a deep breath, not wanting either of them to know what happened. They were finally starting to feel safe here, and you wanted that to last.
"In their room, using the record player," Daryl gestures toward the larger bedroom that the two kids shared. Both bedrooms in the apartment were very small, but the 'master' you guys had agreed to give to the kids, so they could each comfortably have their own twin bed. You guys didn't really use your room for anything other than sleeping, so it didn't matter. Daryl was always looking out for the best interest of his niece and nephew - and you of course.
"She never stops with it, you really made her so happy," you stroke his arm affectionately before walking around him to peek into the room, seeing the brother and sister softly singing along to one of the songs.
"They have dinner yet?" you ask, noting that the sun had begun to set.
"We were waitin for you, was gonna go get it," Daryl says, reaching for his vest where it hung by the door. His thoughtfulness always touched you, warming your chest and making you blush.
"Let's all go," you suggest, wanting to get out of the very loud apartment as the upstairs 'neighbors' started playing their music again.
It looks like Daryl might protest, but then he doesn't, instead nodding and heading to the room to knock and push it open, calling the kids out.
The walk to where the Commonwealth served dinner was relatively short - about ten minutes. Dog trailed alongside Judith as the kids walked a few paces ahead of you and Daryl. His right hand rested on his holstered knife, while his left hand occasionally brushed against yours.
Watching Daryl pay for takeout with money from his paycheck was probably the weirdest thing you'd ever seen. Getting served a decent meal in white styrofoam containers from a kitchen... It was all so bizarre. Not to mention being responsible for two children alongside Daryl... It felt like playing house. You liked it, but it was really weird.
The walk back was comfortably quiet, the kids talking to one another about music as you and Daryl trailed along, holding most of the food. Daryl tried to carry it all, but you didn't let him, as per usual. He was always trying to do everything, for everyone, and you kept him balanced.
The music upstairs hadn't quieted much by the time you got in and settled down on the floor. The lack of furniture sucked, but at least you guys had beds and a locked door.
"How was yer day?" Daryl asks as he divides out the containers to each of the kids, making sure to split the sides evenly amongst the three of you before getting any for himself.
"What?" Judith asks in a louder tone, unable to hear Daryl very well between his raspy drawl and the loud music.
"How was yer day?!" Daryl repeated a little louder, propping one arm on his bent knee and opening Dog's container where he sat beside you, across from the kids. You loved how much Daryl cared for Dog, enough to get him his own takeout!
"Here boy," he drawls, setting the container off to the side for the dog to eat behind you guys.
"It was great! I made a new friend!" Judith exclaimed with a smile. RJ nodded in agreement, never having a whole lot to say.
"Oh yeah?" Daryl furrows a brow skeptically for a second before changing his expression, covering his anxiety for her sake. You knew Daryl was still very on-edge about the people of the Commonwealth, and took protecting Rick's children very seriously.
"She got me a record!" Judith holds up the Motorhead record with a grin.
"That was awfully nice of her!" you smile.
"You ever heard of Motorhead?" she asks you guys, and you shake your head no with your mouth full.
"That's good stuff," Daryl responds, and you're not very surprised he recognized the band.
"Daryl?"
"Yeah?" he responds distractedly, shooing Dog from your food and trying to eat his own.
"Can I get an allowance?" Judith's question catches both of you off guard, and you smile over at Daryl as he eyes you up, shocked that he is in this position. You can practically see the thoughts going through his head, and giggle under your breath.
"Can we wait a little while? Til my job settles - then we'll talk bout it again?" he offers, nodding at her as she agrees silently, shooting you another look. You chew your food silently, smiling at your rice as you take in the moment.
"So... we can stay?" she presses. She reminds you a lot of Rick and Michonne.
"Do ya wanna stay?" Daryl questions, always putting their needs above his own. He looks at RJ and you as well. "Even after Alexandria's all cleaned up?"
"I do!" RJ finally speaks up with a small smile. You grin at the boy, glad he voiced his thoughts.
"Yeah?" Daryl seems to be thinking the same as you.
"It's nice," Judith says solemnly. "I think as long as my mom knows where to find us, I want to stay."
Daryl looks over at you, expecting an answer, but you shrug, not wanting to discuss it in front of the kids. He recognizes your silence and doesn't push it, instead eating his own food.
After getting the kids to bed, you and Daryl settled in for the night. Pulling on one of his black shirts after a quick shower, you brushed your hair in front of the dirty old mirror above the sink. Daryl was changing on his side of the bed, shooing Dog out of the room toward the kids room, and closing the door behind him.
You felt his eyes on you as he plopped into the bed very inelegantly, tossing one arm behind his head as he laid on top of the thin sheets, his blue eyes studying you.
"So... do ya wanna stay?" he brings up his question from earlier.
"I think it's good for now," you start, placing your brush down and approaching him at the bed. He pulls the sheets back on your side for you, making you grin down at him lovingly, always appreciating the small gestures.
"The kids are happy, have lots of people to socialize with... I think we should give it a good chance."
Daryl chews on his lip and nods, deep in thought. You settle in beside him and pull the blankets over yourself, cold in your lack of pants and the very thin walls that did little to trap the heat in the house. Rain pattered lightly on the windowpane, drowning out some of the music upstairs.
"I missed you," you mutter, rolling onto your right side and moving closer to him, resting your head on his chest. His left arm wraps around you, holding you close, and he hums.
"Ya been home for a few hours now," he comments teasingly.
"I always miss you. Even when I'm in the bathroom," you look up at him with a playful grin and he rolls his eyes.
"Yer weird," he drawls, rubbing your arm affectionately.
You hum against his muscular chest, trailing your hand up and down his muscular torso over top of his shirt. At first, the gesture was just affectionate, taking him in, appreciating the closeness. But a familiar ache began to build in your body and you found your hand trailing beneath his shirt, stroking the curves of his muscles, his scars, and the light trail of hair that led down into his pants...
"Y/N?" he finally speaks up as you toy with his waistband, his voice low and raspy.
"Hmm?" you respond lazily, more focused on the sliver of skin that was exposed by his shirt riding up.
"Yer gropin me," he taunts, and you finally look up, your face close to his as he looks down at you. Your eyes drop from his piercing blue ones down to his thin pink lips.
"Want me to stop?" you breathe, already suspecting the answer.
"The walls are thin..." he protests, but you see the hunger in his eyes, and feel his arm wrapped around you grab you tighter.
"I can be quiet..." you murmur, pushing yourself up just an inch or so, bringing your lips closer to his. Daryl's breath hitches, his eyes locked on your lips.
He grunts before leaning forward just enough to close the distance between you, placing his lips against yours softly. A hum of satisfaction escapes your lips as you lean into the kiss, pushing yourself up onto one arm without breaking it. You lean over Daryl as you kiss him tenderly, slowly, not in any rush.
His arm pulls you closer by your back and you toss the blanket off yourself so that you can straddle him, never breaking the kiss. His lips move slowly against yours, unconsciously teasing you, letting himself build up the confidence to do more. Daryl's taking his time, soaking in the moment, as both of his hands find your waist, gripping it securely but not rough. You can already feel him growing aroused beneath you, a satisfied smirk toying at your lips as you finally pull away.
Daryl huffs as you pull your face away from his, until you dip your head down into his neck. He instinctively moves his head to the left to give you more access, and you place slow open mouthed kisses down his neck. He groans quietly, his grip on your waist getting a little tighter, one of his large hands trailing up your back and under your(his) shirt.
Daryl grasps your back by your bare flesh, wrapping his arms around your body as you kiss his stubbly jaw. His breathing alone is enough to turn you on - how unsteady and breathy it was near your ear, hearing how much of an effect you had on the tough man. You loved that you had just as much of an effect on him as he did on you.
"Let's take this off," you mumble, moving back to a sitting position in his lap, pulling his forward by his torso. He lets you pull his shirt his head - he's come to trust you completely, no longer ashamed or embarrassed by his scarred body, knowing how much you adore it. He still finds it hard to believe that you are so attracted to him, but you prove it time and time again with your actions.
You carelessly toss his shirt somewhere on the floor, moving your hands to caress his broad, bare shoulders. The moonlight reflecting on his body only makes his muscles look even more mouthwatering, and it takes a lot of self control on your part not to rush this moment.
"Yer turn," he mutters, toying with the bottom of your shirt. He's not unsure of himself, but he always requires a little extra reassurance or verbal consent from you in these kinds of moments. He's always worried about pushing you too far, or making you uncomfortable - no matter how many times you sleep together.
You lift your arms as a signal for him to pull your (his) shirt over your head, and he does just that, tossing it in the same direction you threw his. He admires you for a moment, taking in your bare chest as you are sat on top of him. You watch as his blue eyes wander up and down your exposed body, sitting in his lap with nothing but your panties on. Daryl wraps his strong arms around you again, grasping your butt affectionately as he leans in to place a kiss on the swell of your breasts.
"So beautiful," he mumbles into your skin, almost too quiet for you to hear. He moves to flip you guys over, carefully, taking his time so he doesn't hurt you. He positions his body weight on one arm, your legs wrapped around his torso still. A shiver goes down your body, a combination of his skin on you and the chilly air.
"Ya cold?" Daryl asks, always observant, and you shrug as you caress the curves of his biceps absentmindedly.
"A little," you mutter, the coldness being the least of your worries. "You should warm me up..." you flirt, tilting your chin up to meet his eye more directly. He rolls his eyes playfully at you, pulling the blanket up over his body so that it is also draped over yours.
"A'right," he drawls, leaning down to kiss your lips once before ducking into your neck, kissing you down to your bare shoulders. You hold onto his back, eyes fluttering as his lips caress your skin.
His hand that isn't supporting his weight caresses down your body, trailing over your breasts, pinching a nipple softly before continuing its way down your stomach. You wriggle under him, eager for him to properly touch you, and he can feel your impatience. His lips curve up in a smirk against your neck and he grasps the bottom of one of your thighs, moving his face back to yours to kiss you properly. His tongue brushes your bottom lip, asking permission, and you eagerly open your mouth to deepen the kiss. He groans at the combination of your eagerness to give yourself to him, and the feeling of your tongue against his.
Finally, Daryl places his hand where you need him most, over your thinly covered core. You accidentally buck your hips against his hand when his finger brushes your clit over top of your panties, and he chuckles into your mouth. Without wasting anymore time, he slides his hand inside of your panties, stroking your folds, feeling how wet you are. You moan against into his mouth, his tongue entering your mouth at the same time.
The combination of feelings covers your body in goosebumps, and he slowly starts rubbing soft circles on your clit. Eyes squeezed shut, your back arches against his, pressing your bare chest against his muscular one as he teases you with his fingers.
"Mm, feel good?" Daryl mutters as he ducks his mouth to the other side of your neck, nibbling at the soft skin. You nod your head ferociously, mouth hung open in pleasure, grasping his biceps tightly.
"Fuck, Daryl," you whimper, and he shifts his fingers downward so he can enter two fingers into you. You press your head against his bare shoulder, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as he slowly but deeply curls his fingers up inside of you.
"Mmm," he mumbles as he sucks at your collarbone, marking your body.
"Nghh, Daryl - I need you," you moan as you feel yourself getting closer than you normally would be. He carefully removes his fingers and props himself onto his knees - the blanket falls off of him, and he stares you in the eye as he sucks off each of his fingers. You wriggle and whimper beneath him, completely drunk on him. He slides your panties down and quickly removes his shorts and boxers at the same time.
He lays down beside you, turning you onto your side and pulling the blanket back up to keep you warm. "Ya okay?" he double checks, kissing your shoulder blade, and you nod eagerly. You feel him guide himself to your core, rubbing his hard length against you to get himself wet, and you buck your hips backwards against him, whimpering again.
Finally, he slips in, just the tip at first, letting you adjust. You moan in pleasure and pain, leaning your head back and one arm back in search of his body. He wraps a large arm around you, bringing it up your stomach and chest, holding you tight against his bare chest. The other arm goes under your head, and he's basically spooning you now, slowly sliding in further, an inch at a time, until he bottoms out inside of you.
You whimper his name and Daryl takes that as a sign to start moving, but very slowly. He's doing everything with a purpose right now - he's making love to you. He moves slow and deep, passionately grinding himself into you. He grunts in your ear, holding you securely against himself, his thrusts getting deeper each time.
"Fuck Y/N," he rasps in your ear, moving his arm so that he can grab your hip.
"Ugh, need to feel you," you moan, and he nods against your shoulder, pulling out quickly and moving to shift himself on top of you. You eagerly link your ankles around his bare torso, and he slides back in with ease, filling you up from a new angle.
Hastily, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down so that his chest is flush against yours, as close as you can possibly be to him. He hugs your body against his, moving slow and deep, thrusting into you with a purpose. He pays attention to how you react to him, and once he finds the perfect angle, you cry out. He grips your one thigh, lifting it higher on his waist and hitting your g-spot over and over again. He maintains the slow, sensual pace, taking his time making love to you. It was an intoxicating feeling, having him all over you, determined to make you feel good - being soft and sweet and sensual with you. The emotional experience of it alone was almost enough to have you reach your high. You whimper in pleasure, biting at his shoulder to try to keep your voice down.
"I'm close," you moan against his skin, and he tugs your thigh up even high, pinning it with his body, determined to get you to cum first. He kisses you passionately, swallowing your moans as you get closer and closer to your orgasm, until you finally fall over the edge and he has to put a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. He doesn't stop his thrusts, going slightly faster, riding out your orgasm and chasing his own now.
He starts getting sloppy, leaning his face down into your neck, dropping your thigh and hugging your body against his. You feel his sweat mingling with your own, his hot skin against yours all over your body, the overwhelming feeling of Daryl on you - in you.
He grunts your name into your neck and snaps his hips one more time before pulling out quickly and stroking himself a few times before spilling his seed onto your lower stomach, grunting and groaning into your shoulder. He carefully detangles himself from you and collapses at your side, his breathing heavy and uneven. Daryl reaches out for some tissues from the nightstand, cleaning you up himself, being gentle and tender with you.
Once you're cleaned up, he lays back down and extends his arm, and you eagerly curl into his side, throwing a leg over his thigh and cuddling into his bare, sweaty chest.
"That was amazing," you mutter breathlessly. He nods in agreement, kissing your forehead.
"Still cold?" he asks, reaching for the blanket. You shake your head with a grin.
"Nah, you warmed me up. Now I'm hot."
Daryl chuckles at you, looking satisfied with himself and dropping the edge of the blanket, instead pulling you closer against his nude body.
Okay, I need input. I have a really really great idea for a series I've been wanting to do for.... years.
Daryl x reader x Negan !
It's going to be a love triangle between our two favorite leading men.
The issue is that I want it to be believable - as believable as possible, at least. Daryl isn't the type of guy that gives his heart easily, so if the reader is his girlfriend and she starts falling for Negan... I have a hard time seeing him staying with her, even if she didn't do anything. Negan tortured him, killed Glenn (which he blames himself for)...
But I want to write this so damn bad!! Seeing them both pine after the same girl?! Ugh.
Join A Taglist!
How should I write my Daryl x reader x Negan love triangle series?
Daryl and her are already together when she starts having feelings for Negan
They're not dating but close and have obvious feelings for each other
Other (please comment!!)
Voting ended onJul 30
Also, if any Daryl or Negan writers / mutuals of mine would like to help me out by letting me bounce ideas off you, giving feedback, offering advice... I would absolutely love that. I have a few that I follow who I think write Daryl really well and I'd love some input! Thanks!
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“Matt!” you shouted, trying to find your best friend. You called out his name once more, looking behind trees and bushes, under cars and all around the house. A hand suddenly reaches out and grabs you by the ankle, causing you to scream as you fall to the ground and land right in a puddle.
“Ugh! You suck!” you shout at Matt who is climbing out from between two large bushes underneath his window.
“Would you guys keep it down?!” Vicki shouts from the porch where she is on the landline, talking to some guy. You both roll your eyes at his sister and giggle to yourselves, having the time of your lives playing your version of hide and seek mixed with tag.
~
When you woke up, your chest felt heavy. The room was still dark, and the atmosphere was thick. Something was wrong.
The clock read 1:23am in bright red numbers coming from the old alarm clock on your nightstand that you’ve had your whole life. Turning over onto your side, the pressure in your chest didn’t subside. Something definitely happened. Alaric was out there… Had he killed someone? One of your friends? An Original?
There was banging at the door suddenly that made you jump out of your skin. Shooting up from a laying position, you feared it was Alaric himself. There was another frantic bang, and this time you used your vampire hearing to listen in to who was at your door. You heard sobs – male – and recognized them immediately. Jumping out of bed, you rushed out of your room to the front door, turning on lights as you went, not bothering to throw on a robe, and threw open the door for Matt.
“What happened?!” you exclaim, pulling him inside by his bicep and slamming the door closed. He is trying to hold his sobs in – his eyes swollen and a little blood dripping from his forehead. “Matt?” you ask, grabbing him by both arms now, trying to get an answer out of him.
“She – I – I couldn’t turn in time. She —” he rambles, not making any sense. You pull your friend into your arms, anxiety bubbling up inside of you as you think of all the possible things that could have happened. Matt was usually pretty strong, put together, at least attempted to hide his emotions. For him to come over to your house in the middle of the night like this…
You hug him tightly, letting him catch his breath in your arms.
After a moment, he steadies himself, and you pull back to look at him.
“What happened?” you ask as calmly as you can.
“I was driving Elena back to say goodbye to Stefan and the others–” he starts before you interrupt him.
“Say goodbye? Why? What?” you ramble, thoroughly confused.
“Charlotte… Alaric killed Klaus.”
Those three words send you into panic. He’s dead? Klaus? The man who sired the bloodline to most of your friends and potentially yourself? The man you definitely weren’t supposed to have feelings for… But absolutely did.
“He’s dead?!” you finally shout.
“Well… That’s what Damon said… But Charlotte, this was like three hours ago… So I don’t know.”
You rub your temples, mind and heart racing. “But I was driving her back, and I swerved on Wickery Bridge to avoid hitting Rebekah–” he starts again, and you go to interrupt him, but he stops you. “I swerved off it into the water. Elena made Stefan save me…” he trails off as he starts to sob again.
“I’m so confused…” you mutter, trying to piece it together.
“She’s dead,” he finally chokes out. Who? Rebekah? Elena? Elena…
“She’s… dead?” you repeat. “Elena,” it’s less of a question and more of realization.
So Elena and Klaus are dead… And the others will be…? Should be?
Matt takes a deep breath and walks over to your old couch, sitting down shakily.
“No,” he continues. “I mean, yes. But she still had Damon’s blood in her system…”
Realization washes over you now.
“Matt… That’s good. She’s not dead then,” you softly explain to him.
“But she’s a vampire now!” he shouts angrily.
You wince, remembering how much he hates vampires. You know he doesn’t hate you, but he definitely wishes you weren’t one.
“I killed one of my oldest friends and now she’s going to be a vampire… Because of me.”
You were trying – hard – to be supportive, but it was proving challenging. You kept thinking about Klaus, whether he was actually dead or not. You didn’t care much about the fact that Elena would be a vampire, she kind of deserved it anyway…
“There’s more…” he continues after a moment. “Alaric is dead. Esther linked him to Elena,” he sighs.
While you weren’t close with your history teacher/sorta friend, it was sad. And that meant that tonight Jeremy lost another parental figure, and his sister turned into what he also hated most…
Tears finally started slipping out as you sat down beside Matt, leaning your head onto his shoulder. He leaned back into the couch and put his arm over your shoulders, and the two of you silently cried together, like you had so many times as children…
He explained everything else that happened once you both calmed down, and you came to the realization that not a single one of them – besides Damon – called or texted you to let you know what happened or that you could potentially be dying. Damon shot you a text not long before Matt showed up, but you didn’t see it until he dozed off from exhaustion on your couch. Stefan eventually texted you around 3am asking if you were okay, and that was it. Nobody else seemed to care or even remember you.
Matt spent the rest of the night there on your couch, and you slept on the loveseat across from him. You both slept in late, not wanting to get up and face the new day. It was nearly noon by the time you guys finally sat up and answered the endless texts that you’d be getting from everyone – who were very much still alive.
You had a sliver of hope that Klaus was still alive, given that when Finn died, his entire sire line died within an hour or so of him. But if Damon saw Alaric stake him – Rebekah saw it too – then why were you all still alive?
You decided to go with Matt to check on Elena. You weren’t exactly concerned for her and you were honestly pretty annoyed with everyone else, but you had a feeling that the Salvatore’s would be less than welcoming to your very human best friend. To say that you were annoyed was an understatement, actually. Whenever they needed help, or something bad was going on with Elena, they involved you. Even when you made it clear that you wanted to stay out of the drama, they always found a way to drag you in. But when you very well could have died, and all of them, they completely forgot about you? You had half a mind to punch Stefan and Damon when you saw them.
Matt drove you both over to his house so he could get changed into some clothes that didn’t smell like creek water and blood, and you waited patiently on his porch. Sitting there with your elbows on your knees and head in your palms, your mind drifted to Klaus. What if he really was dead? The thought of never seeing him again stung. Obviously it wasn’t logical or safe to be having a crush on the dangerous hybrid, but it was too late for reason. You already knew you had fallen for him, and no logic or reasoning could stop how you felt.
“You ready?” Matt interrupts your thoughts as he steps out and locks the door.
The ride to Elena’s house is short and silent. You were anxious, and Matt’s anxiety was only adding to yours. Stefan probably wouldn’t hurt Matt, but there was no telling with Damon. Not long after you parked in front of Elena’s house, Stefan stepped outside, watching you both get out of the car.
“I see you’re still alive,” you all but growl at him as you both start up the walkway. It is clear how exhausted he is from his expression, but you couldn’t give a damn. All anyone in this group seemed to care about was Elena – sometimes even more than their own self-preservation – it’s crazy to you.
He gives you a look, opening his mouth like he’s going to say something, but you ignore him and walk around toward the door. When you enter, you see Elena sitting in the kitchen with Damon. She looks over at you, then her eyes land on Matt and she jumps up. “Matt,” she sighs, seemingly in relief, and pulls him into a hug. You look over their shoulders at Damon, who is glaring at Matt.
“Are you okay?” he asks hesitantly when they separate, looking her up and down. She nods, but anyone with a working pair of eyes can see she’s not.
“Bonnie’s going to see if there’s anything she can do…” Elena says, and it takes all of you not to scoff. Of course they’re trying to find some magic work-around to save her from being a vampire. No one ever did that for you, or Caroline, or anybody else.
“Alright… I’m outta here,” Damon suddenly starts heading for the door, shoving past Matt. “Gonna pay a visit to a certain blond vampire.”
Stefan heads out the door after him, leaving the three of you alone. You cross your arms and the tension grows thicker. Matt is between both of you, as per usual.
“Matt… I’m not mad at you,” she finally says. You roll your eyes and move away to look out the window, watching Stefan and Damon bickering in the walkway. She shouldn’t be, Matt didn’t do anything wrong. He was trying to help her, and nearly got himself killed too. He would’ve been dead if Stefan hadn’t listened to martyr Elena.
“Hey look, I’m gonna go, okay Matt?” you speak up, suddenly not interested in pretending you care any longer. Matt almost died, Elena is having a pity party, Alaric is dead and… Klaus is dead.
“What? You sure?” he asks, and you nod, giving him a quick hug and Elena a tight-lipped fake smile. “Glad you’re not dead.”
Then you head outside, ignoring the Salvatore brothers and vamp back to your house.
~
The rest of the day was a haze. You went home for a bit, drank up the last of your whiskey and a blood bag, then decided you wanted something fresh. So you went out to the Mystic Grill, found a guy drinking at the bar, compelled him to follow you to the bathroom and all but drained the poor guy before healing him. Then after pathetically crying on the bathroom floor, you wiped his memory and went home to go to bed.
It was barely eight o’clock by the time you were freshly bathed, somewhat tipsy and laying in your nightgown in bed. An unknown number called you once, but you ignored it, not in any mood to speak to literally anyone on this planet. You wondered if maybe it was important, but you couldn’t bring yourself enough to care.
After the third attempt though, you finally gritted your teeth and answered.
“What?!” you shout into the phone, preparing to scream at whoever was bothering you.
“Hello, love.” You heart drops in your chest and you suddenly forgot how to breathe. Was this…?
“Who is this?” you say softly, your attitude having shifted a full 180 degrees.
“Ouch. You don’t recognize me?” he teases on the other side.
“Klaus… You’re alive?! How?” you exclaim, in shock, anger, excitement…
“It’s a long story, love. Had a witch working some magic for me,” he starts, sounding rather pleased with himself. “Look, I was just calling to make sure that you were okay…” he trails off.
He was worried about you?
“Yeah… I am… I’m glad that you are…” you mutter the last part.
“I look forward to seeing you again soon, Charlotte,” you can practically hear the smirk through the phone. “Listen, don’t tell anyone about this, okay? I’m laying low a bit longer, got some business to sort out… And then I will come and see you,” he all but promises. His voice is serious, like he feels he owes you this.
“Okay…” you start, unsure what else to say, but your heart is thudding in your chest.
“I will explain everything soon, Charlotte,” he says slightly more softly. Your heart flutters every time he says your name. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Klaus…”
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The Allure of Darkness Series Masterlist🖤🥀
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(I’m going one fandom at a time editing/fixing up/rewriting some of my old fics that I feel like were not hitting the mark. A lot of them are 5+ years old so my writing has improved greatly since then and I don’t want to delete these fics, but I’m not very happy with some of them. Please feel free to check them out as some will be practically brand new!)
Daryl Dixon
Wasn’t Jealous 💐🖤
You’re Staring 💐
You Know You Like Me 🌸
Can’t Sleep 🌸
Teasing The Archer 🌸
Sight Tight and Shut Up ✨
Your Girl🖤
Just Survive Somehow🔥😓🔞
Claimed🔥 😓
Dating Daryl Would Include…
Outted✨
Sing For Us🌸
Welcoming Party🌸✨
Negan
Weakness🔥
The Blizzard❄️
Here is a link to a short google form to be added to one or more of my taglists!
All you need to put is your tumblr username and what you want to be added to! No emails or personal info are visible, responses are only visible by me. :)
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Pairing: Daryl x fem! reader - they're not officially together but definitely more than friends
Prompt: The two of you are separated from the rest of the group alongside Beth, who is trying to make the best of a shitty situation. Things get a little heated after a game of Never Have I Ever...
Warnings: Cussing, killing walkers, alcohol consumption, underage drinking, intense arguing, mentions of previous drug use, fighting, mentions of risqué frat parties, etc. Not necessarily sfw..?
Masterlist
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"So first... I say something I've never done... And if you have done it, you drink. If you haven't, I drink... Then we switch," Beth explains as she sits across from Daryl at the makeshift 'table,' which was really just an upside down pallet box with a couple mason jars of moonshine on it.
Daryl is eyeing the younger girl up, clearly not excited for this game. You'd played it a few times over the years, mostly at frat parties when you were in college...
"You really don't know this game?" she asked, thinking he's lying.
"I ain't never needed a game t' get lit before," Daryl shrugs. Fair enough.
"But you've played?" Beth turns to you, and you nod.
"Yeah, a few times," you try to remain casual, not eager to let up how messy you had been in your college years.
"Wait, are we starting?" Beth gets confused, and you chuckle.
"How d'you know this game?" Daryl redirects, motioning at Beth.
"My friends played... I watched," she looks down. "Okay, I'll start... I've never... Shot a crossbow," she says. "Soo, now you drink."
Daryl looks at her for a moment, clearly still on edge, but eventually grabs his jar and takes a short swig of the clear liquid. You also raise your cup from where you sat between the two at the 'table,' lifting it to your lips and taking a sip. Beth looks surprised, and you wince as the old, foul tasting liquor slides down your throat. Daryl looks slightly embarrassed and avoids eye contact with you.
"Really? His?" she asks, and you nod, trying to stay casual.
"Yeah, he taught me," you bite your cheek to fight off the smile tugging at your lips, remembering his arms around you as he taught you to track and use his bow...
"Now you go," Beth tells you. You think for a moment, skipping a few questions that pop into your head, remembering your audience.
"I've never... played an instrument," you say. Daryl shrugs and Beth raises a brow before taking a tiny sip of the moonshine, wincing and grimacing at the taste.
"Really? None at all?" you shake your head no, and neither of you are surprised when Daryl doesn't drink.
"Your turn," she tells Daryl, who watches her for another moment.
"Mmm, i'on know," he shrugs, biting at his thumb.
"Just say the first thing that pops up into your head," she encourages.
"I've never been outta Georgia."
Beth nods. "Really? Okay, good one," she says before lifting her glass again, along with you, and each taking a small sip.
"I've only been to one other state, for college," you mutter.
"I've never... been drunk and did somethin I regretted."
You scoff and take a big swig of your drink, and Daryl eyes you up.
"Hell could you have done?" he asks, and you look down shyly.
"A lottt. I was a stupid fool in college,"
"Really? You don't seem like the type... But then again, neither does Maggie, and she's told me some stories..." her smile fades at the mention of her sister.
"Yeah, well, ya live you learn. I got all the wrong kind of attention," you trail off, avoiding Daryl's eye.
Daryl takes a big swig of his drink. "Yeah, I've done a lotta things," he grunts.
"I've never...had a sibling," you say, making both of them drink.
"Good one," Daryl scoffs aloud, but says nothing. "Your turn," she reminds him with a perky smile.
"I've never been on vacation," he says after pondering a moment, rubbing at his beard.
"What about campin?"
"Nah, that's just somethin I had t' learn," he clarifies. "T' hunt."
"Your dad teach you?" she asks softly.
"Mhm," his gaze isn't hard, but you see the emotion behind the memory.
Beth drinks, and you hesitate. "I have... but never a happy one," you take a sip, glancing over at Daryl, sensing his awkwardness.
"Really? That's sad," Beth remarks.
"I've never... hooked up with someone and regretted it."
You scoff again and take a big sip, grimacing at the taste and the memories.
Daryl looks at you for a long moment, thinking, but says nothing, before also taking a drink. You thought about different questions you could ask that would take some pressure off of Daryl, things you know he would have done.
"Okay... I've never successfully tracked and killed an animal," you grin shyly, referencing Daryl's attempts to teach you how to track and how miserably you failed. You see the tiniest glimpse of a smile tug at the corner of his mouth, and he takes a drink.
"I've never had frozen yogurt," Daryl shrugs.
Beth drinks, and is surprised when you don't, but says nothing. Daryl is watching both of you intensely, but keeping his thoughts to himself.
"I've never... ridden on a motorcycle," Beth offers, and you feel your cheeks warm when you lift the glass and take a drink. Daryl meets your eye behind his glass, and you look down, suddenly shy.
"Aww," she mutters under her breath.
"I've never... been in a fight and lost," you grin, resting your arms on the makeshift table. Daryl scoffs, and you shoot him a look. "Really! Only been in two fights, and I kicked the girls asses, both times."
Beth chuckles and Daryl takes a swig.
"Merle fought dirty," he mutters.
"Never got nothin from Santa Claus," Daryl scoffs. Beth drinks, and again shoots you a look when you don't.
"Seriously?" she is bewildered, and Daryl even seems surprised.
"My parents didn't do that kind of stuff... Were very strict, focused on education... didn't really let me be a kid," you shrug, and Daryl absorbs every word you say.
"Okay...I've never...been in jail," Beth eyes shoot up toward Daryl, and you feel the air shift. His expression doesn't really change - not much - but you see how he hardens. Everything is silent for a moment before you attempt to break the tension by taking a sip.
"No way," Beth mutters, and you nod.
"Disorderly contact, assaulting an officer, public intoxication," you roll your eyes as you explain the three charges you had that caused you to spend a weekend in jail. Daryl raises a brow at you, seemingly caught off guard.
"Wow, you really were crazy in college," she mumbles, then returns her gaze to Daryl awkwardly.
"So..." she mutters, looking expectantly at Daryl, and you mentally facepalm.
"That what you think of me?" he asks, staring at her, picking at his thumb.
"I didn't mean anything serious, I just thought... The whole drunk thing... I mean, even my dad got locked up for that... And apparently Y/N..." she tries to explain.
"Drink up," Daryl motions at her, and you can already tell the game is over. You're a bit offended for Daryl, but know that Beth is just awkward and kind of prying for information - bored and sad.
"Wait.. Prison guard! Were you a prison guard - before?" she inquires, and you awkwardly sip your drink again.
Daryl watches her for a few very long, quiet seconds.
"Nah," he grumbles, not breaking eye contact.
"...It's your turn, Y/N," she mumbles, and you try to think of a question, anything to lighten the mood. Daryl suddenly stands up with a loud grunt, grabbing his drink and heading over toward the back wall of the beaten down room.
"Ima take a piss," he grumbles as he walks off.
He drops his glass on the floor as he starts unbuckling his belt, and Beth jumps, startled by the noise. You lean against the old beaten up chair where Daryl had been propped against, feeling the tipsiness starting to get to you.
"You have to be quiet," Beth mutters nervously.
"Can't hear ya I'm takin a piss!" Daryl shouts over his shoulder, shuffling around in the mess and making a bunch of ruckus.
"Daryl! Don't talk so loud," Beth pleads, but you can already tell the alcohol and emotions have gotten the best of Daryl.
"What're you my chaperone now?!" he looks over his shoulder at Beth as he pees on the ground, and you wince, trying not to pick sides and wanting to deescalate this.
Beth looks away, clearly uncomfortable and offended, staring down at her glass.
Daryl zips himself up and turns around as he rebuckles himself. You try really hard not to be turned on by how he looks as he's buckling himself, shooing away the naughty thoughts crossing your mind.
"Oh wait, it's my turn, right?" Daryl rasps. "I never uh... never had a pet pony! Never got nothin for a birthday!" he shoves a chair angrily. "Never relied on anyone for protection before! Hell I don't think I've ever relied on anyone for anythin!" he shouts, pointing his finger and stumbling around shoving random objects. You stand up, ready to intervene.
"Daryl-" Beth starts, catching on to how she offended him.
"Never sung in a group out in public! Like everythin was fun. Like everythin was a big game," he rasps at her, not acknowledging you. "I sure as hell never cut my wrists lookin for attention!" he shouts, making the gesture on his wrist as he glares at her.
"Alright, Daryl, that's enough," you step between the two, putting your hand out to reach for his arm, which he yanks away and turns to continue pacing angrily.
"Oh sounds like our friend out there's trynna call over his buddies!" he shouts, referring to the walker growling outside the door. He grabs his bow and suddenly looks to you. "Hey you wanna be good at a crossbow so bad?! Huh? C'mere!" he grabs your arm and pulls you over toward the door, kicking it open and dragging you outside.
"Daryl!" you shout angrily, taken aback by his aggression. Daryl's never been like this around you before, at least not since the quarry. But then again, you've never seen him drunk and hurt.
"Comere dumbass!" he shouts at the walker, releasing you to shoot it in the chest, pinning it to the tree. Beth has followed you guys outside at this point and is shouting at him, but he won't have any of it.
He manhandles you and pins you to his chest with his left arm, his large bicep secure under your chin and across your chest, and he shoots the walker again with his right hand. "Right corner!"
"Daryl!" you shout, but he ignores you, though he lets you go from his grip. He reloads the bow, then grabs you once again, growling in your ear: "comere" as he adjusts you against his body. Despite the anger and emotions, you feel your body succumb to him, his voice in your ear and arm around your chest - combined with the alcohol - making your head dizzy. "Eight ball," he grumbles, shooting the walker dead center in the middle of its chest.
"Just kill it!" Beth shouts in anger from behind you guys, and Daryl releases you once again.
"Comere Greene! Let's pull these out, let ya have a go at target practice!" Daryl shouts at Beth, stumbling over to the walker to retrieve his arrows. You are temporarily frozen, the feel of Daryl all over your body sending you haywire in your tipsy state.
Beth angrily stomps over, shoving her knife through the skull of the walker before Daryl can rip his arrows out.
"The hell ya do that for we was havin fun!" he shouts at her.
"No you were bein a jackass! If anyone found my dad-"
"Don't! That ain't remotely the same!" Daryl angrily points his finger at the girl.
"Killing them is not supposed to be fun!"
"Daryl!" you shout, finally coming to your senses.
"Whaddya want from me girl?!" he shouts at Beth, but looks over at you. His question feels like its got a double meaning, and you freeze again.
"I want you to stop actin like you don't give a crap about anythin!" Beth shouts, suddenly spinning on her heel and heading back inside, slamming the door shut behind her. Daryl watches her go, huffing and puffing with anger, before finally turning to look at you.
~
You eventually sat down on the porch, and Daryl joined you once he calmed down enough to sit still. He sat across from you, one arm resting on his propped up leg, the other toying with the knife in his right hand. You absently stared off into the now dark trees, listening to the sounds of the insects and crickets, not a light in sight besides the dim light coming from inside where you presume Beth lit a candle.
"You should probably apologize to her," you eventually speak up. After thirty minutes of silence, Daryl is caught off guard by your sudden words. He looks at you for a long moment before nodding.
"I will," he mutters, but makes no move to get up.
"I remember why I stopped drinkin so much," you remark, leaning your head back against the porch railing.
"Ya feel sick?" he asks, glancing up at you.
"Nope," you start, smiling to yourself. "I wish I could feel like this all the time."
"Yer lucky yer a happy drunk," he comments, stabbing at the rotted wood absently.
"Yeah, I'm lucky... Some people can be real jerks when they drink," you smile, tapping your boot against Daryl's. He looks up at you - really looks at you - and a very subtle, soft smile appears on his lips.
"Yeah.. I'm a dick.. When I'm drunk," he grumbles, though his expression is soft as he stabs at the railing. You keep your foot touching his, wanting the contact, and return the smile. You both look at each other for a long moment, just the two of you, taking each other in, before he eventually looks down at this legs.
"Merle had this dealer..." he starts, glancing up at you momentarily, before continuing: "This janky little white guy, tweaker... One day we were over at his house, watching TV. Wasn't even noon yet, we were all wasted.. Merle was high... Were watching this show, Merle was talking all this dumb stuff about it. And he wouldn't let up - Merle never could..." Daryl looks up at you again, leaning his head back, looking down at you through sleepy, tipsy eyelids, his soft expression catching you off guard as he opened up.
"Turns out, it was the tweaker's kids' favorite show. And he never sees his kid, so, i'on know, he felt guilty about it or somethin... He punches Merle in the face... So I started hittin the tweaker hard - hard as I can. And he pulls a gun, sticks it right here," he gestures to his temple, "and he says 'I'm gonna kill you bitch.' So Merle pulls his gun on him, everyone's yellin, I'm yellin... Thought I was dead, over a dumb cartoon, bout a talkin dog," he scoffs, looking off toward the woods. His sudden confession about something from his time before surprised you, and makes you love him even more. He opened up to you, unprompted, confided in you... And it meant the world to you.
"How'd you get out of it?" you ask softly. Daryl looks back to you, like he's surprised you care enough to ask any questions.
"The tweaker punched me in the gut. I puked. They both started laughing, forgot all about it..." he looks ashamed, but continues. "Ya wanna know where I was before all this?" you stare right into his eyes, fully engaged, directly your entire attention on the man before you.
"I was just driftin around with Merle. Doin whatever he said we were gon be doin that day. I was nobody. Nothin. Some redneck asshole, with an even bigger asshole for a brother," Daryl looks down again.
You take a moment to process everything he just said to you. You don't think you've ever heard him say so much to you in one sitting, let alone willingly confide in you.
"You're not nobody," you finally say. Daryl looks up, taken aback, looking you in the eye. "Not to me."
You say it so surely, he almost believes you. Still tipsy, you take the opportunity to scootch your body over and sit beside Daryl. He flinches slightly, but makes no effort to move, and you settle beside him, leaning your head on his broad shoulder.
"You're the most important person to me, Daryl," you mutter with your eyes closed, too afraid to look him in the eye as you say it, but needing him to hear it.
Daryl doesn't respond, but you feel him lean his head against the top of yours on his shoulder. Your heart is pounding in your chest, eyelids heavy from the alcohol and his closeness - wishing this moment could last forever.
Eventually there is a slight rustle in the woods, and Daryl stiffens.
"We should go inside," he mutters, looking off into the woods, scanning for trouble. You nod and force your eyes open, sitting up straight. Daryl stands first, then catches you off guard when he reaches his hand down toward you. Without a second thought, you graciously accept it, placing your smaller hand into his and letting him help pull you up. You stumble slightly in your tipsy state and grab his bicep to help you catch your balance, suddenly very close to him.
He looks at you for a long moment, the moonlight reflecting on his face, hair covering most of his eyes, and your bite your lip in anxiety and lust. "Come on," he eventually interrupts the moment and nods toward the door, making sure you go first, always watching your back...
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A - Aftercare
If you are in a committed relationship with Shane, he can be affectionate afterward. He'll toss you a rag to clean you up, or if he's in a particularly affectionate mood/made a big mess of you, he'll clean you up himself. He may rub you hips or anywhere he was a little rough, kiss bruises, praise you in your ear. He'll toss an arm around you lazily and hold you for a little while, buck naked, occasionally making little comments with that signature smirk.
B - Body parts
He's very confident in his body, and loves when you recognize how hot he is. He loves when you run your hand down his abs and chest, and he may grab your hand to direct it where he wants you to touch. He loves when you leave scratches on his biceps and back, run your hands through his hair, whatever.
His favorite part of your body is your ass or hips, depending on your physique. He loves to paw at both, especially when he wraps his arms around you in a hug and plants a firm smack on your ass.
C - Cum
Shane makes a big mess. He will cum anywhere on you that you allow him to, and make a big show of making a mess. He's basically marking his territory.
D - Dirty Secret
He's secretly putty in your hands when you stroke his cheek during missionary, caressing him softly, treating him like he's not just a killer. It catches him off guard, makes him slow down and start making love to you for a little while.
E - Experience
Very. He was a fuckboy before the world ended. Shane's been with plenty of women over the years, and he knows what he's doing.
F - Favorite Position
Doggy, 100%. He loves pawing at your ass, smacking it, muttering dirty nothings into your ear as he takes you from behind - to grab your hair and pin you down beneath his larger body...
G - Goofy
Not really, sometimes he'll chuckle or tease you but he's not necessarily goofy in bed.
H - Hair
Above the waist, he keeps himself neat. He'll shave his chest hair, keep his actual hair nice, but he doesn't care much to do anything with his pubes. He's a got a little toxic masculinity, so he thinks it's too girly/a waste of time to spend time trimming up his pubes.
I - Intimacy
He can be intimate in the bedroom, but it's not an all the time thing. When he is, he will shush you, hold you close, move slower, treat you softer... But times like this are not all that often.
J - Jack Off
He does not jack off. It was already extremely rare before you guys began sleeping together - but anytime that he feels in the mood enough to where he needs relief he will just let you know. He doesn’t have much time for it and would rather the real deal with you.
K - Kink
Oh he's a kinky sob. He's got a size kink, a dominance kink, daddy kink, a breeding kink, he's into ropes and cuffs and knife play, begging, choking, praising and also name-calling, cum-play, edging... There isn't much he's not open to trying.
L - Location
He can be a little experimental, as long as you have privacy. If he catches you alone in the house, he'll take you against a wall or piece of furniture. He's fucked you on the ground in the woods, in tents, in the RV, a car, the bathroom... He's really not ashamed to take you anywhere he wants, so long as it's safe.
M - Motivation
He's highly motivated to get you to cum, but maybe not as much as some others (like Daryl). He thinks it's a requirement for you to cum before him, at least once, and he likes to get you screaming his name.
N - NO
He's not experimental with things to him - he likes to be the one doing things to you. Another big no is he will never have a threesome, he doesn't share.
O - Oral
Shane lives for oral. He absolutely loves how pretty you look with your mouth around his cock. He would have you suck him off every day if he could. He loves to receive, and he also loves to give. Shane enjoys pinning you down, his strong arms wrapped tightly around your thighs and hips, holding you down while he makes you cum two or three times on his face...
P - Pace
He's definitely more of a fast and rough kind of guy. He switches it up sometimes, but it's usually his go-to.
Q - Quickie
Shane is definitely a quickie kind of guy. It's not his favorite, but he doesn't mind them at all. He finds it hot when you just can't keep your hands off each other and need a quick fuck. Time usually doesn't allow for you to spend hours alone together, anyway, so he's constantly dragging you behind something to fuck your brains out for ten minutes.
R - Risk
He is risky in the sense of he isn't overly careful about being caught, or getting you pregnant. He doesn't always wrap it, and he's constantly taking risks of getting caught... But he doesn't usually risk your safety. The times in the woods were early on, when the camp was pretty secure and tight on privacy, but most of the time he's very careful about not putting yourselves in the unnecessary danger.
S - Stamina
He's got a lot of stamina, more than most men. Not as much as some other men (Negan or Daryl), but more than most. He can easily go for an hour or more, depending on the mood.
T - Touch
He's a very physical man. He needs to be all up on you, grabbing you, caressing you, touching you in any way he can. In doggy, he likes to lean his chest down over you and mutter dirty nothings in your ear... Even when you're on top, he's got his hands all over you.
U - Unfair
He's a hypocrite, 100%. He wants to do all kinds of stuff to you that he would never let you do to him.
V - Volume/Voyeurism
He's not overly loud, but he grunts a lot, and is all about dirty talk. He's constantly talking, muttering in your ear, under his breath to himself... This man doesn't shut up.
He is not into voyeurism and would be pissed off if someone saw his girl naked... But at the same time, he isn't very careful about getting caught. He'd never be okay with someone watching, but he isn't overly cautious about having privacy or keeping your voices down. Like I said... hypocrite.
W - Wildcard
He's really skilled with his fingers... He loves to lean over you while he fingers you, slow and deep, leaving hickeys down your neck as he curls his fingers in just the right places, praising you in your ear, calling you his dirty little girl...
X - X-Ray
He's above average, with a good amount of girth. Packing, but not overboard.
Y - Yearning
Shane is constantly horny. He always wants you, he'd easily fuck you every night if he could.
Z - ZZZ’s
When time permits, he likes to fall asleep shortly after sex. He'll hold you lazily for like ten minutes, still nude, before eventually falling asleep with his other arm behind his head.
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New Content:
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Sandor Clegane fics
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Never Have I Ever | Daryl angst/yearning
Shane Walsh NSFW Alphabet*
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Game of Thrones & Bridgerton content
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(I'm going one masterlist at a time editing/fixing up/rewriting some of my old fics that I feel like were not hitting the mark. A lot of them are 5+ years old so my writing has improved greatly since then and I don't want to delete these fics, but I'm not very happy with some of them. Please feel free to check them out as some will be practically brand new!)
Daryl Dixon
Wasn’t Jealous 💐🖤
You’re Staring 💐
You Know You Like Me 🌸
Can’t Sleep 🌸
Teasing The Archer 🌸
Sight Tight and Shut Up ✨
Your Girl🖤
Just Survive Somehow🔥😓🔞
Claimed🔥 😓
Dating Daryl Would Include...
Negan
Weakness🔥
The Blizzard❄️
The large banquet room was dimly lit, casting shadows and dark corners, perfect for Daryl to stand in and avoid the crowd. He scoffed aloud at the ridiculousness of the 'ball' that Pamela was hosting. The dead walked just outside the walls, and here people were drinking champagne and engaging in old world politics.
You, on the other hand, saw the benefit of this sort of thing. The exclusivity bothered you, but you could see why the Commonwealth was trying to preserve some of the old world.
The only reason you were even invited to thing 'ball' was because you 'worked' for the local newspaper, similarly to Connie. She was on the job, but you were more so expected to catch the gossip and make the Commonwealth sound great, whereas Connie was interviewing different people and trying to get the real information. Daryl was allowed in because he was a Commonwealth soldier, expected to go wherever he was told, and Mercer demanded that he be here as backup. He was allowed to dress in regular clothes, as to blend in, like many of the other soldiers who were, for all intents and purposes, undercover, in case anything went south.
You had felt his eyes on you throughout the night, but whenever you looked his direction, he turned away, pretending like he hadn't been watching you. You knew the archer better than that, though. Your relationship wasn't exactly established, but it was no less meaningful. The two of you had been through so much over the years, and up until recently, there was never any time to explore the chemistry between you.
Behind the safety of the Commonwealth walls, though, you began pressing him more than you normally had. Standing closer, lingering touches, longing looks, teasing comments... You were treading slowly, but you wanted Daryl to know - without any doubt - how you felt about him.
"Hey, you," a shy smile toys at your lips as you approach your favorite person. His well defined arms are crossed over his chest as he leans against the wall, half of his face shadowed by the low light and his loose strands of hair drooping in the way.
"Mm," he acknowledges you, glancing your way before returning his gaze straight ahead, taking in the scene around him.
"Hiding over here?" you tease, turning to lean against the wall by his side. Daryl turns his gaze back to you, shooting you a look before his eyes dropped down to your body, looking at your dress. You catch your bottom lip between your teeth as he quickly takes you in. The simple, knee length black dress hugged your body in all the right places, but wasn't overdoing it.
Daryl's eyes are back on yours as quickly as they had left them, but you had seen him looking you over.
"Not hidin'," he grumbles.
"Sure," you tease, looking out at the groups of people mingling. "This is weird," you comment, referring to the dance.
"Very," he agrees. " S'stupid."
"Maybe, but it's kind of nice too,"
He looks over at you like you have three heads, scoffing.
"'Course ya think so," he mutters.
"What? It's nice to have some things from the old world," you shrug.
"If ya say so," he grumbles, clearly not agreeing.
The pianist start to play a slow beat, and couples fall together. You actually recognize the song, one that you used to like before the world ended.
"Oh my God," he rolls his eyes and shuffles awkwardly beside you.
"Aw," you mumble, finding it nice to see people feel safe enough to dance together. "I know this song," you mumble, sadness filling your heart as you remember singing it in your car so many years ago.
"Really?" he asks, seemingly surprised.
"Yeah, it's a good one," you tell him, and he looks at you with an unreadable expression, the way Daryl usually does when he's really listening.
You feel the invisible force pulling you to Daryl, as you have so many times before, and glance up at him hesitantly. He catches your eye, and spots the light blush on your cheeks.
I'm jealous of the rain
"Wha'?" he asks, and your eyes drop from his to his hands, which are toying with his black cargo pants pockets. His thumbs are inside of the pockets, with the rest of his thick fingers still visible.
You wonder what it would feel like to interlock your fingers with his. It was a thought that had crossed your mind many times before, more than you'd ever admit to. How they'd feel in your hair, on your hips, your face... other places...
That falls upon your skin
Your lip stings where you bit it unconsciously, bringing you back to reality, where Daryl is studying you.
"You gonna ask me to dance, Dixon?" you tease, grinning up at the taller man. His eyes widen slightly, taken aback by your forward request. He looks at you for a long moment, probably only a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity in his intense gaze.
Then Daryl scoffs, rolling his eyes at you.
"Yeah, okay," he responds sarcastically, brushing you off like you couldn't possibly be serious.
"What? You can slay walkers and people but you can't dance with a girl?" you tease, bumping his bicep with your own, trying to keep the teasing light, but also pushing your luck, seeing if you could actually somehow get this man to dance with you. You're sure Daryl would rather cut off his fingers than to dance, but you just had to try. When would the opportunity ever present itself again?
"Yup," is all he says, shuffling in his boots.
"Ugh, you suck. You're gonna make me go find some poor guy to force to dance with me?" you ask. Daryl's eyes lift from where he was studying his boots, meeting yours with an icy intensity.
He didn't like that.
"What? You won't dance with me but I can't dance with someone else?" you ask, and he actually makes a sound in agreement.
"Can't dance," is all he says, catching you off guard. You expected him to say how stupid it was, or make some other rude comment - not that. Does that mean he wants to? That he would oblige?
"Neither do I," you shrug.
He snorts in amusement. "Ya wanna dance but ya don' even know how?"
"Well, slow dancing is easy, Daryl. You just sway. Look."
He looks around, seeing the other couples. Most were just swaying in place, not even moving much. Then he looks back at you, studying you for a long moment as you look at the other couples, almost longingly.
It's closer than my hands have been
Oh I'm jealous of the rain
With a huff, Daryl stands up straight, and before he can think too much about it, offers his hand.
You are caught off guard, looking between his extended palm and his face.
"Really? I was teasing you, I didn't expect you to agree..."
"C'mon, woman, 'fore I change my mind," he grumbles softly, seemingly embarrassed.
You hesitantly place your smaller hand into Daryl's palm. He stands there for a moment, looking at your hand in his, seemingly a little unsure what to do - then his feet start moving and guiding you out a few paces. Not far from the wall, on the very outskirts of the crowd, keeping plenty of distance from the others.
Daryl stops, turning to face you, very unsure of himself. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you take him in. You hesitantly twist your hand in his, turning it so you can hold it more properly, then take a step closer to him, invading his bubble. He chews on his bottom lip, letting you get him into position, his blue eyes watching your every move.
Reaching your left hand up, you place it on his right shoulder, gently, almost like you were afraid he would recoil if you moved too fast. There's still plenty of space between the two of you, but you're afraid of moving too fast. You watch as Daryl's right hand comes to rest at your waist, very hesitantly, kind of moving in slow motion.
You have never been this close together unless you were fighting off the dead, or one of you was hurt... Sure, you'd sat together plenty of times, your knees or arms have brushed... But this was different. You were pretty sure Daryl Dixon had never danced with a woman before in his life.
You take one more hesitant step toward him, then sway a little to the left, finding the beat. "See?" you smile lightly, looking up to catch his eye. He tears his eyes from your hand in his, meeting your gaze, but says nothing.
You hum under your breath, quietly, the words coming back to you. There is a woman singing her own version of the song, a very slowed down version of the way you remember it, but you like it.
I'm jealous of the wind
That ripples through your clothes
You never in a million years would have expected that you'd be able to get Daryl to dance with you. If Carol could see you... She'd be grinning from ear to ear.
There's a burning heat inside of you as you sway with Daryl. You feel small in his arms, like he is your personal protector, your person. His fingers wrapped around your hand feel warm and safe. It's a funny thought - Daryl is probably one of the most dangerous people in this room (and in most rooms), yet you feel the most safe in his arms.
It's closer than your shadow
Oh I'm jealous of the wind
You glance down from his blue eyes to his pink lips. His expression is hard to read, but he doesn't look like he's searching for an escape route. He's looking back at you, studying you the same way that you are him. His feet move slowly, unsurely, but following your pace. You barely move, it's really less of dancing and more of swaying in one place - but it's perfect. His fingers tighten ever so slightly on your waist, just above your hip bone, where your body curves - holding you a little more securely, more certain.
"Words are weird," he mutters, and you chuckle softly.
"They're sweet," you counter.
"'I'm jealous of the wind?'" he quotes the lyrics the woman just sang, raising a skeptical brow, and you chuckle again.
"It's about longing to be near the person you love," you explain. "The rain that falls on their skin, the skin that you can't touch. Not actually jealous of the rain or wind, just that they can't touch them, or be with them..." you explain, not meeting his eye, instead looking over at the woman as she sang.
When you look back, Daryl is watching you. He studies you, taking you in, paying attention to you.
"Sounds like ya can relate," he drawls. "T' the song."
With a slight gulp, you shift your hand on his shoulder nervously.
"I can," is all you say. Daryl doesn't respond, and he doesn't take his eyes off you, either. There's an understanding in his eyes, like something has clicked,
I'm jealous of the nights
That I don't spend with you
I'm wondering who you lay next to
Oh, I'm jealous of the nights
Daryl catches you off guard by pulling you closer, shifting the way he was holding you so that your chests are nearly touching, and his right hand is fully grasping your waist, securely, tightly. You look up into his eyes, finding an expression that you don't recognize. He says nothing, but his hands speak louder than words.
"Me too," he mutters lowly, so quiet that you almost didn't hear him.
His left hand moves so that it is resting against his chest, near his heart, still cupping yours. His warmth radiates off of him onto your own body. You can smell the woodsy smell on his clothes, a mixture of trees, fire and cigarettes - a smell that you have come to recognize as Daryl. The combination of his touch and smell is dizzying your senses, hypnotizing. You adjust your hand on his shoulder to lower it, allowing it to drag down his chest, agonizingly slow, memorizing it.
Even with his black button down in the way, you can feel the hard muscle beneath your hand, which moves slowly, centimeter by centimeter, until it is resting slightly above his pec, the tips of your fingers splayed across the bottom part of his shoulder, palm over his upper chest. You can see some of the exposed skin behind the one single button left undone, the tiniest bit of chest hair showing and part of his collar bone.
The thought of resting your head on his chest crosses your mind, but you find the urge, not wanting to push him too far. His right hand moves as you take another swaying step, shifts to the middle of your back, making it so his arm is loosely wrapped around your frame. Being this close to Daryl makes your head spin, and you try to take in the moment as best as you can - memorizing his touch, how gentle he is being, the comfortable but charged silence between the two of you.
Wordlessly, you look up from his chest, meeting his eyes. His gaze shifts from your hand on his chest to your eyes, and suddenly your faces are very close. You can smell the cigarette and whiskey on his breath, sees the lines in his lips, the small scars littered across his face. His eyes drop from yours to yours lips, making your heart beat so loud in your chest that you think he must be able to hear it.
He chews on his bottom lip, his nervousness getting the better of him and he leans back, just an inch or so, putting a little space between your faces, but not letting go of you even a little. He'd never admit it, but he was loving every moment of this - he never wanted to let go of you.
Warnings: A LOT. Killing, oral, intercourse, graphic/detailed accounts of sexual acts, dirty language, kinkiness, cussing, very graphic stuff. MDNI!!! NSFW!!!
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A - Aftercare
Sandor is surprisingly tender during and after, but in his own way. It takes time for him to get comfortable with you, but he is never rude or selfish with you. At first he'd toss you a rag to clean yourself up, standing up and redressing himself, not hanging around too long. But with each time you are together, he'd stick around a little longer, until eventually he would clean you up himself, pulling you into his hard, hairy chest and lay naked together for a little while after, stroking your hair in the comfortable silence.
B - Body Part
His favorite body part of yours is your neck/throat. He loves to leave sloppy open-mouthed kisses there, nuzzling into you with his arms wrapped around your much smaller frame. He'd bite, nip, suck at your sensitive flesh any chance he could. He likes it because it's easy for him to reach with the height difference, and it's an intimate part of you that no one else gets to touch. He'd scatter hickeys and bruises across your neck constantly, marking you. He'd also like to grab at your throat during sex, applying just enough pressure to add to your dizzying pleasure and his dominance over you.
He has a few favorite places of his body that are technically his favorites for you to touch. During sex, it's a tie between his biceps and his hands. He likes when you grip and claw at his biceps, making him feel big and strong as he dominates you. But he also loves when you interlock your fingers with his own - his hands that are usually used solely for killing, ending lives, he likes when you interlock your soft, small fingers with his and give them another purpose.
He won't admit it, but he also loves when you caress his face. The first few times you did it, he would flinch, shrink away, push you away - but when he got comfortable enough with you, he greatly appreciated your attention to his scarred up face. To him, this was one of the greatest shows of your love of him.
C - Cum
He has absolutely no problem making a huge mess all over you and himself. He loves to cum on different parts of your body. He desperately wants to cum inside of you for the sake of his dominance/breeding kink, but he doesn't actually want to impregnate you in this uncertain world, so he instead likes to cum on your breasts, ass, stomach or in your mouth (if you were into it). He respects your limits, but he loves how submissive and cock-drunk you look when he cums on you. His favorite is probably on your breasts after sucking him off, or on your ass after he fucks you from behind. And he loves to pin you down, eating you out relentlessly until you cum on his mouth as many times as he can get you to, making a huge mess of his beard.
D - Dominance
He loves to dominant you. Nine times out of ten he is fucking you, taking charge, completely in control. He throws you around like you weigh nothing, climbs on top of you, holds you down, uses his height/size to his advantage - and he loves how much you trust him to do whatever he wants with your body. Occasionally he will let you be in control, but it's in certain kinds of moods, and not usually for very long.
E - Experience
He's pretty experienced, but not as much in recent years since he became "The Hound," both because women are afraid of him, and he just isn't an overly horny/sex driven man. He hit brothels occasionally before you, but he wasn't a regular like some other men.
F - Favorite Position
Surprisingly, missionary. More often than not, you do a variety of different positions every time you are together - he'll throw you into different positions, mixing it up and keeping you on your toes. He does doggy most often, and it feels the best, but his favorite is still missionary. He likes to look into your eyes, nuzzle into your neck, hold your throat, feel your bare chest against his, breathe into your neck, kiss you... to feel your hands on his back, face, arms, wrapped around him in every way.
G - Goofy
In the beginning, he is all business, not comfortable enough to let his guard down. After a while, he's still fairly serious in these moments, but you have a way of eliciting a genuine chuckle out of him sometimes if you're being a little goofy or too eager. He's very focused on making sure you both enjoy yourselves, but he isn't stiff. For example, if you trip over yourselves rushing to get each other into bed, he will genuinely chuckle.
H - Hair
He is a super hairy man. It's everywhere - his hands, neck, chest, back - there isn't a single place on Sandor's body that doesn't have at least some hair on it. It's messy, untidy and unkempt. He claims it's a part of his manly charm.
I - Intimacy
He is surprisingly intimate and passionate. In the beginning, he would hide how much this meant to him, but it was still very intimate for him to let you close to him, to be so vulnerable. Eventually, it's no longer just 'fucking.' He is so deeply in love with you, even when you guys are in a more rough, needy mood, he is still very intimate with you.
J - Jack Off
He doesn't - he has no need to, he will just go find you, or if you are separated for any amount of time, he has crazy discipline and self-restraint, and it only makes him more excited to have you again.
K - Kink
He can be very kinky, but not over the top. He's basically ready to try whatever you want to. He practically lives to dominant you, pin your arms, spank you... He has a lot of different kinks too. He's 100% got a size kink - he loves how small and sweet you seem compared to him. He has a breeding kink - he loves the idea of filling you up with 'his pups.' He's absolutely got a praise kink too - even though he's not a big talker, he likes to mutter out the occasional praises in your ear or neck, and loves when you do the same for him.
L - Location
The chambers, or a bed of some sort. He wants complete privacy to thoroughly enjoy you. When at King's Landing, he won't risk putting you in any sort of danger, or anyone even knowing that you're together, for fear of what Cersei or Joffrey may do. As much as he wants everyone to know you're his little bird, to have everyone hear as he wrecks your world, he won't risk your safety.
After leaving King's Landing is a whole other story. He takes pride in making you scream and cry out his name when you stop at an inn or finally get somewhere to call your own. He is very possessive of you, but he also takes great pride in how much he can rock your world.
M - Motivation
He is completely motivated by you and your pleasure. Yes, he enjoys his own high, but not until after you have cum at least 3+ times first. You are his biggest motivation, both in the bedroom and out. In the beginning, he was a little more selfish, taking each time in, soaking it up, worried it would be the last, but he never ever left you unsatisfied.
N - NO
He will never do anything that genuinely hurts or disrespects you. He's not against a little degradation or name-calling if you're okay with it, but he would never intentionally hurt you, and he would never tear down your confidence or self-esteem.
He also will not ever let another man see you naked, or even close. He'd kill a man for walking in on you, no hesitation. He will never take you anywhere someone could see, and if for some reason you were doing it somewhere relatively public, he would completely cover you with his huge frame and his cloak.
Finally, despite not being sexual, he will not let you anywhere remotely near Gregor, and tries his best to keep you away from the knights.
O - Oral
This man absolutely loves to give you head. It's his favorite part about sex. There's plenty of times where he will just go down on you, for an hour, and not even penetrate you. He loves to sit your smaller body on his face, pinning you down by your thighs and suffocate himself between your legs until you are shaking and crying above him. There isn't a single time that you are intimate that he doesn't go down on you, even if only shortly. He could go down on you for hours if you'd let him. The reactions you make, your hands in his hair, thighs quivering around his head... It's his favorite thing. He also loves when you go down on him, especially on your knees, or 69ing.
P - Pace
Depends on the day. More often than not, it's fast and rough, though still passionate. Some days, he's much more patient and slow, but not until he's gotten much more comfortable with you and your relationship.
Q - Quickie
He doesn't prefer quickies at all, but sometimes it's all he has time for. He'd sneak away from his post for twenty minutes, coming up with some excuse to find you alone for as long as he could risk. But he really prefers to take his time with you.
R - Risk/Rough
With you, he's not risky. He's always careful not to actually hurt you - you're his most prized 'possession.' He won't ever put you in danger, and he won't even cum in you most of the time for fear of impregnating you.
He can be rough more often than not, but he has limits. It's rough sex, but he doesn't hurt you. He throws you around, pins you, dominates you, lightly chokes you or spanks you, rips your clothes sometimes, but he doesn't do anything that he knows will make you uncomfortable, and he always respects your boundaries.
S - Stamina
Endless stamina. He's extremely disciplined, with great self-control and takes a lot of pride in it. This man could go hours, and usually does go for at least one or two. He loves to ravish you - every time.
T - Try
He tries very hard. Sex with you is never meaningless or thoughtless. Even when he's just trying to unwind or let off some steam, he's always trying to make sure you both enjoy yourselves, paying attention to you, your cues, your comfort, etc.
U - Unfair
He loves to tease you. All the time, every day. Subtle lingering touches, edging you, taunting you, naughty comments in your ear in public... He teases you as much as he possibly can, without getting caught.
V - Volume / Voyeurism
He definitely makes noises - grunts, groans, low moans in your neck, muttering your name, praising you, cursing in your neck, growling. He's a bit animalistic, lots of manly grunts and groans. He loves for you to be loud, though, and makes it his mission to have you screaming his name(as long as you're not in King's Landing).
Voyeurism is a huge no for him. He is way too possessive of you. He is the type that wouldn't even want you wearing certain types of dresses, constantly puts his cloak over you, tucks your hair up to disguise you when on the road. Someone seeing you in that sort of state... he would lose his mind, and very likely kill the poor soul. If you were to so much as bring it up he would say 'fuck no' before the words finished coming out of your mouth.
W - Worship
Sandor Clegane will not admit it, but he worships the ground you walk on. So it's only fair that he does the same in the bedroom. He will spend hours making sure you feel freaking amazing. He's not a big words person, so he shows you just how much he adores you through sex.
X - X-Ray
Okay... Sandor Clegane is huge. He is a 6'6 beast, all muscle. This man is very well endowed, long and girthy. It takes time to get used to his size, and lots of foreplay to be able to take all of him.
Y - Yearning
This man is always yearning for you. He'd have you every day if he could, which is crazy because before you, he had very rarely thought about sex.
Z - ZZZ’s
He doesn't fall asleep until you do, ever. He always makes sure you're taken care of, comfortable, and most importantly - safe. He'll talk to you sometimes, telling you stories in a low, sleepy voice, but he prefers the silence or to listen to you talk to him.
Warnings: not much...? Read at your own discretion.
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Sandor Clegane
He is a deeply scarred, emotionally withdrawn man, who is very insecure at the root of all of his trauma. He will never - ever - admit it aloud, but he is insecure. Of his appearance, his status, his family, his life, serving the shitty kings. He believes you deserve the best, and he can't possibly be the best for you. So when he sees another man showing interest in you, his insecurity peaks, and it makes his angry - very angry.
If he is in public, guarding the king, he remains collected. He does not react, he cannot blow up in front of the king, or especially Cersei. Instead, he glares and glowers, staring straight ahead, but you can see his expression has changed. You tend to keep all men at arms length already, but when you spot that look on Sandor's face, you try to put even more distance between the unlucky bastard and yourself, knowing fully well the temper of your man.
He will eventually catch up to you when his post is over, or he'll find an excuse to catch you alone, even if just for a moment - feigning having to piss or fetch something, whatever he can to steal you away. He will lock eyes with you as he walks out of the room, silently telling you to follow him - and you always do.
He'd remind you who you belong to in a dark corner, groping you roughly as he left wet open mouthed kisses down your neck, gripping your skirts, his much larger frame completely concealing you in the corner as he claims your lips in a heated kiss, muttering and cursing about how much he hates seeing other men ogling you, not being able to do anything about it, mumbling about how easily he could kill them.
If this is after he has left King's Landing, he would be totally different. He would no longer need his collected composure, the complete focus and loyalty that he had for the king. Now, he was free to be himself. He was very protective of you from the start, but being on the road as 'traitors' only amplified his protective/possessive instincts. Whenever a man at an inn or bar looked at you for more than a few seconds, he would notice, and the look that he'd shoot them could practically kill. If they were stupid enough to approach you with Sandor there, he wouldn't speak - he'd watch. Watch them attempt to talk to you, leaning casually in his chair, finishing his drink, slowly, eyes locked on the lesser man before stepping in.
Tyrion Lannister
Tyrion is a deeply insecure man, though he will never admit it. He covers it with sarcasm and false bravado, but he believes that everyone either hates him or is disgusted by him. Despite being a Lannister, he feels lesser than everyone. So he tends to hide his jealousy as best as he can, not wanting to push you away.
Early in your relationship, he would grow quiet, observing, ready to step in if you are uncomfortable, but not necessarily trying to assert himself. He still can't believe that you agreed to be his, so he feels like you would eventually 'come to your senses' and find someone better. He'd get a little distant with you, and if you picked up on the fact that he had gotten jealous, you'd try to reassure him and remind him how much you felt for him, which he greatly appreciated, even if he didn't necessarily show it.
Later into your relationship, he'd express his emotions more openly. He'd step in if a man was getting too close to you, placing a hand on your waist, making himself known to the other man. He'd take you away once he'd had enough, finding somewhere secluded to remind you of why you were with him...
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