[daryl dixon] [cxm!r] [fanfic] [daryl forced to sub, rope play, body worship, muscle worship, edging, overstim, praise kink, all to daryl]
ya i am a horny fucker what about it
Got board a wrote dialog in a accent not happening again
Slutty!needy!Daryl Dixon x Top!male!reader
"Need somethin’, dar?" You say, not looking up from your book. Daryl stares you down with deadly eyes
You sigh. "Come ‘ere," you say, as you put the book down.
He sighs and walks over. He looks down, standing before you. Then, he stares at you with his sapphire eyes, waiting for you to talk.
You pat your leg and say, "Sit down, baby." He obeys but is still on edge. "'m not yer 'baby,'" he says in his southern drawl, eyes hard. l"What do ya want?" "What happened out there?" You gently rub his back. "You seem so tired." You reply softly.
"Gotta lot on mah mind," He admitted as his expression softened. You can tell he's tired by the way he leans his head on your shoulder. His short black hair sticks up in various places. His clothing has seen better days. There are dirt streaks on his face, and there's a cut on his forehead. He's tired, hungry, and ready to take on the apocalypse. The world around you is silent and still. Daryl closes his eyes and leans into your shoulder with a deep sigh. He seems to be relaxed.
He sighs at your words, "Home... What does home even mean anymore? Everywhere I go, death follows." he pauses"'m tired."
"Alright, le’s go home." You pick him up, your muscles flexing softly, and carry him back to your shared house in Alexandria.
Daryl grumbles and blushes, unable to contain a slight look of amusement at your show of strength. He scrunches his face slightly as he tries to maintain his tough guy act. He looks down at your feet, unable to look you in the eyes as you carry him. He gives up and relaxes into your arms completely. He lets out a soft sigh.
We get home, and I spend about an hour and a half trying to get him in the shower.
Daryl sits in the shower, silent. He isn't exactly crying, but it is clear that he has been. His face is streaked with tears, and his eyes are red. He stares ahead of him, his face stony and unfocused. He's trying to stay in his tough guy persona to maintain what's left of his dignity and his pride. But in reality, he isn't the tough guy he likes to think he is. He's tired. He's hungry. He's not a hero or a leader. He's a survivor. And he's struggling.
I grab the shampoo and rub it into his greasy, matted hair.
"Oi! Stop!" he snaps, in a louder tone than intended. He's embarrassed and is trying to maintain his tough guy act while fighting back against his tired, bruised, and battered nature. But it's obvious he desperately needs a wash. He's been out of action for a while and has accumulated a fair amount of grime and dirt on his face and body. Despite his best attempts to stay stone-faced, he cannot hide his exhaustion. His eyes are bloodshot, his face is drawn, and he is covered in days worth of facial hair.
"Daryl!" you shout, putting your hands on your hips.
Daryl scowls at you. It's clear his true self is beginning to show.
"... What?" he says through gritted teeth, his face still covered in cuts, tracing trails down the sides of his face. A bruise can be seen on the skin of his neck.
"Yer actin’ like a toddler, just let me wash ya," you say with a huff. Your face is stern, your [E/c] eye glaring at him; he knows he won't win this argument.
His shoulders sag and his arms droop limply by his side as he allows you to take control of the situation.
"... Fine." He says this dejectedly, letting out another sigh, and lowers his head. You can see the tears that have been streaming down his face. The rough look on his face is starting to give way. Reality is catching up to Daryl. He is tired, and he hurts.
"Good boy, see that wasn't hard, was it?" you say, washing the shampoo out of his hair and then washing it out of yours. You smile and grab the Lofa and some body soap; it foams up nicely.
Daryl rolls his eyes. His tough-guy act is completely gone. He's not even trying at this point. Daryl's once rough expression has softened. His eyes are no longer stern and aggressive. They look tired. Exhausted, even. His face is relaxed. Daryl just stands there, looking at you with his sapphire eyes while not saying a word. However, he can't hide how grateful he is for the bath. The dirt and grime of the outside world are being removed, and Daryl can't help but feel a little bit of relief from the process.
You wash the dirt and gore off of his toned body and clean yourself, as well.
Daryl sighs, his eyes still closed. A small part of him enjoys the feeling of getting clean, even if he doesn't want to admit it. A smile crosses his bloodied lips as you clean his hair. The dirt, sweat, grease, and blood that have been covering his face for days are finally being washed away, leaving soft, smooth skin beneath.
You finish up and head to bed. You go to the closet and grab a box from the closet.
"Hey now, I don' bottom," he says sharply. His southern accent becomes thicker.
"'Didn't ask, now sit up," you command, not looking at him as you dig through the box and pull out some rope.
He looks over at you with a confused look. You quickly tie the rope around his arms and legs so he can't move, and you take another piece to make a nice design.
He glares up at you. "Too tight?" You ask.
"Nome…. t‘s not too tight," he replies, a faint smile on his lips. But while he seems to be enjoying himself, a certain look of confusion forms on his face. It's almost like he's shy. Daryl tries his best to maintain his tough-guy act, but to no avail. He's so used to being in charge. So used to being the "big man" and the "leader". But now? Now he's just...happy. He's embarrassed to have been tied up so easily, and this, of all things, is making Daryl feel...shy and vulnerable.
"Good. You look so fuckin hot like this, tied up just for me," you smirk as you run your hand up and down his thigh.
"Yer going to sit here and be a good boy, yeah?" You declare before you stop touching him.
"Y-yes’sir," he said, and there was not a trace of his usual bold, brash, and cocky attitude. This is a new Darryl—the calm, reserved, and shy one. The Daryl you never knew existed.
He's not used to being the one who is being "led" in a situation like this. But despite his shyness, Daryl does not argue with you. He is your "good boy", and he will do what you order. He nods again before speaking up, trying to maintain a calm and level tone.
"Yea ‘m yer good boy," he says quietly .
"Look at all those muscles," you say as you run your hand over Daryl's biceps, "nice and pudgy," and you give them a squeeze.
Daryl blushes as you run your hand over his biceps. Your words make him feel shy. Despite his tough, no-nonsense persona, Daryl secretly loves it when you show him affection. You can tell he's not a person who is used to receiving compliments like this. He's the kind of person who always has to be tough and "macho" all the time, but deep down, he loves it when you compliment him. He secretly craves validation and praise. Daryl starts to calm himself down again, taking deep breaths to clear his head. You can see the relief on his face as the tension leaves his body.
"Ya like that?" you whisper in his ear.
Daryl gasps at your whisper. The tone of your voice sent a flutter through his heart. He stares at you, a slight shade of pink on his cheeks. This is Daryl, who loves to be given praise and to be praised for what he does. He loves your attention.
"Tell me what ya want, Daryl."
Daryl blushes profusely and turns his cheeks a bright pink. Despite his tough-guy persona, Daryl has a soft side. He enjoys praise, validation, and affection. This is the Daryl you don't often see out on the streets. This is Daryl, who is shy and introverted. But still... Your words and your actions have an impact on him.
The prideful, "macho" side of Daryl starts to take over again. He's the "big man", the leader. He can't show weakness! If he does, who will protect the others? The community needs him! But Daryl's vulnerable side still wants to respond honestly. Daryl feels torn. In the end, Daryl chooses to be honest. He's always been honest. Daryl's a survivor. But his honesty is part of what makes him Daryl, so he is always honest. What comes out is his honest answer—the answer to your question.
Despite being stubborn and tough and being seen as a strong, independent man, he's still a human being. And a romantic and a lover, too. And he is not afraid to admit that. Daryl gives you a soft smile and nods back in reply to your question. Daryl's heart begins to beat faster, fluttering like a bird's wings in his chest. Blood floods through his body, leaving his face red. His eyes are still locked on yours. You're close to Daryl now. He can feel your warmth and your touch. This is something Daryl is not used to. In a way, he's embarrassed by these feelings, but in another way, it's something Daryl craves. He craves love, affection, and attention. Your attention, specifically. And Daryl doesn't know anything about words, anyway. All he knows... in action
"Say what ya want," you tighten you grip on his chin.
"T-touch me please," Daryl begged.
"Touch ya where?" You smirk, knowing it'll break his ego a bit.
"I- Anywhere, j-just be gentle." He looks up, his face flushed with embarrassment, his ego hurt.
"Of course, sweetheart, 'll be gentle." You lean forward and kiss Daryl.
Daryl melts into the kiss,
He lets out a deep sigh of relief as he relaxes into your touch, while your hand gently traces and caresses his cheek. Daryl looks at you with his sapphire eyes, wide-eyed and a little bit scared as the situation sets in.
"Don' worry, 'll go slow," you say, resting your hand on the side of his face.
"L-Listen..." Daryl says, stammering a little. He looks a little embarrassed. He rests his head on your hand, and he looks away from you. You can tell it was an action he didn't anticipate, and he is at a loss for words. The man in front of you is very unfamiliar and very different from the Daryl you see every day. It seems that when Daryl gets emotional, he can't help but lose all his usual composure and dignity.
"W-Well, listen, I..." he stammered again, and he struggled to even form basic sentences. He looks up at you expectantly. He cleared his throat and looked a little flustered, his eyes darting from the floor to your face and back again, trying to find something to say. It's like the Daryl you thought you knew has left the chat. Right now, the Daryl you're talking about is not the strong, "macho" guy he usually is. He's the Daryl that craves affection and attention.
"Take yer time, 'm plenty patient," you smile at him.
Daryl is vulnerable, and he craves affection, attention, and validation, but he won't say it aloud because it is too embarrassing.
"Ye alright, honey?" you said in a worried tone, your words soft and caring.
He shakes his head; he feels vulnerable under your gaze. The rope isn't helping; he's shy and embarrassed and craves your touch.
"Don' worry, 'll be careful with-cha." Your voice is intoxicating for Daryl ; he wants you in him. Wants you to whisper sweet affirmations in his ear.
He blushes hard; he's supposed to be a man, supposed to take care of you, but here he is wanting your touch, wanting to be taken care of.
"Don' worry, honey; I know what ya want. Ya want my hands all over you; you want to be touched; you want to be taken care of. 'll make sure yer needs get taken care of.”
You were right, and you knew it, but it's too embarrassing for him to admit it yet. It's too much for him to bear. But deep down, his eyes say more than his lips could ever tell you. You have found the hidden Daryl, and he's vulnerable—vulnerable and craving validation. Daryl craves affection, attention, and praise. And he deserves it. He's sensitive and in need of love.
You run your hand over his pecs, then his stomach, then his thighs, saying, "What soft skin ye have, all scared and pretty."
As your hands run down his body, they leave a tingling trail. It's something he hasn't felt in years. He loves it. You see what your touch does to him—he's flushed from embarrassment. You smile
You smirk, "God, I think 'm goin’ to need to mark you up; I'd love to see you with my bitemarks going down yer chest." Daryl blushes heavily, his mouth slightly ajar. There's a small heat building in his abdomen.
You lean forward and gently bite his neck, making sure you leave a hickey. Daryl shutters, his neck is sensitive, and the feeling is intense. He looks up at you, his eyes like big sapphires. You can see how much he craves this sensation. You go back to biting him, trailing down his chest, and kissing in between the makeshift shibari. "Mmm," he holds back a moan as his head hits the headboard. Daryl looks at you with lidded eyes; he needs your touch; he's completely at your mercy. You hold the power; Daryl's all yours.
Daryl's breath hitches as you kiss his lower abdomen, his whole body burning. He's scared to show this side of him—the soft, touch-starved, needy part of him. He thinks it's his weakness. You stop kissing his body and sit back up and put your hand on his cheek, saying, "Ya look so pretty like this." You lean forward and give him a quick kiss; he looks at the floor, embarrassed. Although his body's acting normally. He's sheepish about it, about how he leans into your touch and wants you closer, about the heat growing between his legs.
He thrusts up, trying to get any friction at all, and he lets out a needy moan. You smile and move away slightly; "Need som’ help?" you say with a shite-eating grin. "YES! Please. Please touc-" you start kissing him. Dragging your hand up his thigh slowly Daryl kisses back excitedly, and when you pull apart Daryl's breathless and panting slightly, his eyes are closed. He's so needy as you get closer and closer to his member, but you stop right before.
“Huh?” he looked hurt and slightly embarrassed.daryls is unable to make eye contact. “Beg” you commanded. “please…” he said meekly, his tone sheepish and soft. “Please what?” your stern voice “i… i need you…”daryl spoke quietly, looking away from you he can't bring himself to look at you. “Need me to what?” your tone is much sweeter now. Daryl blushed the heat of embarrassment rising to face, his heart fluttering and his mind a whirl of emotion. He couldn't think straight, you face inches away from him, your hands spreading his thighs, “anything” is all he could manage. “Want me to touch you” you pry him for an answer, he nods, you put your hand on his cheek and make him look at you. “Alright” you say burying your face in the side of his neck. You wrap your hand around his shaft and move at a painfully slow pace.
Daryl bit his lip trying to suppress his soft mewls, he hasn't been touched like this in years. He rutts into your hand and you stop moving, “no moving honey '' Daryl whines in response, tears of frustration start to form. You move your free hand to his hip to hold him in place and go back to your pace, his crumbles and starts begging for you. “Please, i- ‘m a good boy,” he pleads. You bite your lip and start to move much faster, sending shocks of pleasure through him. “Fuck yeah, ye are such a good boy” you voice echos around the bedroom, daryls brain is turning to mush as you praise him, and love on him. The room fills with lustful sounds ``that better?” “mhm” is all he can manage. “What do ya say daryl?” your voice antagonizing, “t- thank you, s-”
“Ya close?” he doesn't respond, “i need ya to talk to me daryl '', he says yes but it's hard to, .he lets out a choked moan, you can tell he's close so you stop and grab a bottle of lube. His powerful thighs quiver when you stop, he's panting “wh-why’d ya stop?” he pleaded quietly “cant have ya cummin yet can we” you spread the lube around your fingers, and gently put one in him. His face contorts eyebrows drawn to each other as he screws his eyes shut, but soon relaxes. You pump it a bit before adding another finger. As you stretch him out you can help but listen to his stifled moans.
There's a light layer of sweat coming at him “ye look pretty like this' ' he doesn't respond and you don't make him respond, you decide he's stretched enough and slick up you dick. “Ya ready dar?” After a couple seconds he nods, you slowly push in, his face twists in discomfort and pain, you pause halfway so he can adjust. He nods and you fully bottom out in him and he lets out a small sob, you wrap your arms around him and stay like that for a while til he starts grinding down.
You pull all the way out then gently push back on him, it's clear he's never bottomed before. You keep your arms around his midsection and your face in the bend of his neck, his chin on your shoulder. You keep your pace for a while before speeding up, he bites down on your shoulder to hide his moans. It's still embarrassing to him.
You feel his legs start to shake and his knees clench around your waist, you slip one hand into his hair and gently pull at it. “Good boy… so good”is the last thing Daryl hears before the coil in his stomach breaks,his whole body spasms.
He paints your stomachs with cum. He pants heavily as your thrusts get slopier and erratic. “In- in or out” you say unevenly your quick breaths now audible “in '' daryl says still heaving. After a few more thrusts and more whines from daryl. You slam into him and release as deep as you can. You thrust one more time before pulling out.
You sit up and look at Daryl, his hairs messy, and he's covered in sweat and semen. His chest rises and falls as his pants grow softer. You wrap your hand around his now flacid dick and give it a few more tugs, he squeezes his eyes and wines in a high pitched voice, you stop before he gets hard again and grab some tissues to clean him up a bit. You cut the rope off of him and lay next to him. He curls up in your arms and you both fall asleep next to each other.
