#twd headcanons

☆ once you find out that daryl is big, you cannot get enough. constantly rubbing him through his jeans, cupping his balls, asking “you need me to hold it up for you?”

☆ at first, it makes daryl uncomfortable. he’s never had anyone call him big before, let alone obsessed over his size. but with it, he gets his dick wet constantly. it’s a tight fit, the way your tiny body swallows him up.

☆ one of your favorite things about how big daryl is, is the way you can feel him inside you. pressing down with your palm, you can actually feel him pressing deep inside you. daryl calls bullshit, until he feels it, too. he won’t admit it, but it drives him insane.

☆ giving him head is difficult—and that’s part of the fun. you love how shocked he gets to see how deep you can take him, nose pressed against his stomach.

☆ again, you’re constantly holding it, licking it, jerking it. daryl is exhausted, half asleep, spent. you just lay next to him, lazily stroking his cock, watching it twitch in your tiny palm.

☆ it becomes a bit of a stress reliever for you. hard supply run? give him head—feel that ache in your jaw. tension in the group? jerk him off till he cries. generally bad day? let him stretch you like a fleshlight.

☆ again, daryl didn’t really like it at first—all the praise making him feel like an object—but now, it fuels him. “yeah? y’like that? th’way i stuff ya…” or “too big for ya?” maybe even “cunt’s molded to my cock now, ain’t it?”

☆ he can use your addiction to his advantage, too. he can always bribe you, long as the payout is good enough. “go stock the pantry, i’ll let you suck it,” he’d say. or maybe you’re falling behind on a run—“keep up, or y’ain’t gettin’ filled t’night, slowpoke.” and yeah, it’s a good motivator.

☆ one thing you love (and so does daryl), is cleaning him off after he’s fucked you. your slick coats his length, giving it an angelic sheen, perfect to lick and lap at. daryl’s oversensitive cock is twitching and pulsing, and you’re getting a treat.

☆ daryl’s starting to really appreciate your love for his dick. one night he gets a little cocky (heh), and is pushing your head hard, fucking your throat. “take it so good, huh? you love my cock, bitch,” he snarls.

☆ only to of course, feel incredibly guilty when your voice is hoarse and raw, apologizing profusely as he nuzzles your shoulder. “m’sorry… didn’ mean it. ain’t a bitch, promise…”

☆ “oh, baby, it’s fine,” you assure him. “i like it. you really don’t get it yet?” daryl definitely needs more aftercare than you. not that he’d ever ask for it. “luh you…” he mumbles groggily.

☆ aftercare includes stroking his hair, reassurance that he did well, that you’re satisfied. cuddling. daryl will make you tea to soothe your sore throat, massage your back and shoulders.

jealous!rick 

– who’s careful to keep how he feels quiet, but that doesn’t stop his body from speaking for him. most people wouldn’t recognize it, but those closest to him realize it in an instant–the way his jaw would tense, how his eyes lock onto you like a hunter to a deer, and that deep crease sinking further into his brow the longer he would scowl.

– if you got the hint and were able to pry yourself away from whoever was getting too close, rick was quick to mark his territory. his hands would be on you the entire day, starting with subtle, creeping hands that always found their way to the small of your back–tapping impatient circles on your skin, he would try to distract himself from whoever was bothering him in the moment.

– any longer in public than he had anticipated and he would begin to slowly wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you close to his chest–a seemingly innocent gesture. it wasn’t until after a few minutes would go by and he’d slowly sway your hips in sync, humming to whatever melody was stuck in his head, only to brush his lips impatiently against your ear.

– “y’know everyone in here s’lookin’ at how pretty you are,” he’d whisper, breath leaving goosebumps in its wake. “some of ‘em gettin’ too good of a look.” his voice more stern now, he’d grip your waist tight, pulling you even closer.

– once you two were alone, he would always be quick to run his mouth. “i don’t like the way he was talkin’ to you–gettin’ so close like that.” he’d seeth, lips already sucking spots into your skin, fingertips roaming the hem of your shirt. “he ain’t makin’ it in the group makin’ moves at you like that.”

– you’d try to protest, brush the interaction off as playful banter–that they were just trying to be friendly. rick would have none of it though, possessiveness running deep in his veins at the thought of what was his being taken. the group itself was a large enough responsibility–one that the actions of were mostly out of his control, people did what they wanted and kept secrets–but you, you were something that was certain. 

– he would love the way you always looked up to him, those big puppy dog eyes glancing up at him each time something went wrong, knowing he’d have the answer, and even if he didn’t, you’d trust him to come up with one. his jealousy wouldn’t stem from a lack of trust or some deep insecurity, but rather the fact that he knew you relied on him to swoop in and claim his mark–almost expected it. 

– no matter the pushback, the excuses you’d give, it was all some drawn out game to see that territorial glint in his eyes, the way his grip would gain some extra force, that last bit of restraint within him snapping. so when he would stuff you deep, hands clumsily wrapped in your hair, you were right where you wanted to be. 

– typically rick was a giving lover, a more tender and gentle approach to sex–only even referring to it as ‘making love’–but things would be different when he gets jealous. it’d be raw passion, barely ever even making it to the bedroom. he’d have you draped over the first surface he could find in the house. rick would be teasing and cruel, chasing his own release while denying you your own and only after you had properly begged for it would he give it to you.

“think you deserve to cum, hmm?” he’d tease, playfully smiling down at you, brushing the hair from your eyes. “let me hear what you’d say next time someone tries to talk to you like that? maybe then you’ll get a reward.”

babbling out nonsense, you’d grab at his chest, trying to brace yourself against the counter. 

“p-please, i need it so bad,” you’d whine, arching your back up into him each time he’d pull away.

he’d tsk, popping his slick coated fingers into your mouth. “that’s not what i asked, darlin’.” although his pace was slower, each time he’d pull out there would be a brief moment before he’d slam back into your walls, ripping a muffled scream from your lips.

jealous!daryl

– daryl would be more vocal in the moment, typically resorting to a short burst of anger that he would instantly regret. any lingering emotions would all be tucked back within himself, hiding in some reserved shell the rest of the day.

– without a second thought, anytime he saw something that made him the slightest bit jealous, there would immediately be a conflict. he would come in between you and whoever was getting too close, angrily spitting out a warning.

– “i ain’t one to talk so i advise you back off,” he’d say, voice low with warning. turning to you, his arms would be crossed, not the slightest hint of amusement in his stare. “‘n don’t you start lookin’ at me like you’re all innocent.” his words, coming from a deep place of insecurity and mistrust, would test your patience and press a nerve sometimes, but you always knew it was a storm that would pass.

– sometimes you’d give into his anger, push back when he’d step too far and his insults crossed a line. even though you would know he didn’t mean it, there were times he wouldn’t know when to stop and you’d scream right back at him with tears prickling in your eyes.

– daryl would usually be the first to storm off. in any other situation he would resort to violence, be hasty to get his fists across anyone’s face who ticked him off the way you did. but he knew it wasn’t actually you, rather a version of yourself his mind tried to make him see–a false reality of a hateful, cruel lover who was using him, just like everyone else in his life. so he would remove himself from the situation, especially when he could see the hurt written plain across your face, loud and clear for him to see and feel like a bullet through the chest. 

– letting his feet take him wherever, he always took a walk after he let his jealousy get the best of him. clearing his mind, he’d rehearse some fumbled apology in his mind–the words never coming out as sincere as he’d meant them. only when the sun dipped low beneath the horizon would he come back, knowing that despite being mad, you were still worried for him.

– head hung low, daryl would creep back into the camp, guilt bubbling in his chest. you were of course awake and waiting for him, arms crossed as you held your gun steady in your hands–pointed straight at him. “tell me why i shouldn’t shoot you right now, daryl.” he knew you would never, just trying to show how worried you were without actually having to say it. “had rick on my ass for hours asking where you were.”

– he would never admit it, but he loved the way you worried about him–the way you’d make him feel cared for. even if it was through stern scolding and harsh swears, he knew it was all because you loved him and it reeled him in each time. “m’real sorry.” he’d say your name to get your attention, let you know that he truly means it. “shouldn’t have said all that stuff…i jus’ don’ like seein’ guys look at you like that. they get all bug eyed like they ain’t ever seen a pretty woman before ‘n-”

– you’d always cut him off in his rambles, reassure him that things were okay and you’d always be right there waiting for him. “shut up,” you’d sigh, patting the spot next to you. “i’ve been up all night, the least you could do is give me a good night's sleep.”

– smiling, he’d wonder what he did to deserve someone as understanding as you. no matter how many times he’d let his own self get in the way of things, let his self-doubt speak for him, you were always there to reassure him. he’d lay beside you, back turned with that last piece of guilt shielding him from fully giving into you. wrapping your arm around his waist, you’d pull yourself closer, breathing in his scent.

jealous!shane

– this man would go absolutely feral for you if you’d let him. over time he’d learn to control his temper, lower his impulses and not do anything you’d be disappointed in him for later. that temper would never leave him though–fist clenched and jaw tense, he would immediately be by your side the second he smelt trouble.

– even if things seemed innocent enough, the second you were alone with any man, he would intervene. whether it was more subtle like casually tossing his arm over your shoulders, or to make a statement like bumping shoulders with whoever you were speaking to, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close while he took over the conversation–shane always made his appearance.

– in the beginning of your relationship he would be more violent. shove, punch, or even beat any guy that so dared to innocently flirt with you. after many screaming matches and late night arguments though, shane was able to take out his jealousy in another way.

– he knew you were all his and you made it clear to him that you knew it too. giving yourself to him each time you stumbled to bed after a big dinner or party–sometimes wandering further away from the group–his hands would be all over you, roughly grasping at every part of your skin, marking the parts that only he could see.

– even with your entire body marked as his–bite marks, scratches, his scent lingering deep into your skin–it still wouldn’t be enough for him. every outing where there would be new people, someone he’d sense as a threat, he would be right there beside you the entire night. when someone would call him off to the side, no matter the urgency, you were either coming with him or he was sat still with you happily talking away seated right on his lap.

– shane’s jealousy would be just a permanent part of him nor would he care to learn where it stemmed from–if anything at all. it would always be a large part of him, the reason he had never kept a solid relationship. but with you, his jealousy was something you would crave–the possessiveness a trait you had just expected with him. his endless desire for you would be shown through every word, lingering touch, and the way he made sure everyone in the room knew you were his. 

– in his moments of anger, the rage he’d feel boiling in his stomach would never be directed at you. he knew you’d only had eyes for him–he was just upset that others couldn’t see that too. so if it took the occasional bloodied fist and broken nose for someone to get the hint, then that’s what he would do.

𝑅𝐼𝐶𝐾 𝐺𝑅𝐼𝑀𝐸𝑆

・He needs to feel safe within a person to even begin to think about sex

・When you get to that stage, he lights candles and makes you feel as comfortable as you can be. He doesn't pressure you, he wants you to feel as loved as you make him feel

・He's slow and sensual. Loving on you from the top of your head to the tips of your toes.

・His favourite place to have sex is in the bath. With him behind you, and you resting on his chest. Both completely naked and exposed.

・Rick has your knees resting upon his, and he likes to widen them for easy access.

・Rick likes when you rest the back of your head against his shoulder. Your tits above the water, hard and pointed.

・With the sight, he groans, low and gutteral. His hands move up your waist and over your stomach to knead your breasts.

・He moves your hair back and kisses your neck, your cheek, anywhere he can get to.

𝑀𝐴𝐺𝐺𝐼𝐸 𝐺𝑅𝐸𝐸𝑁𝐸

・She takes control when things get hot and heavy

・Her hands moving all over you, squeezing and undoing clothing.

・Maggie's lips kiss you everywhere, it gets you wet, when she sucks on your neck, or between your breasts.

・She likes to have one nipple in her mouth, sucking and biting, while her other hand plays with your other breast. Squeezing your nipple, pulling and pinching.

・Her favourite place to fuck is the shower. Standing underneath the warm water. Both of you wet and soapy. Rubbing your tits together, groaning at the feeling.

・Maggie gets down on her knees and lifts one of your legs over her shoulder. She likes this position; to be so close to your cunt. She loves licking, and kissing the bud. It makes you shiver, no matter how hot the shower may get.

・She likes to bite the inner side of your thighs, while using her fingers to massage your core.

・No matter how hard you try to stay quiet, Maggie always makes you yell, and gasp and moan.

𝑁𝐸𝐺𝐴𝑁

・He likes the chase, coming after you, trapping you and ravishing you against the wall.

・Negan cooes in your ear, "poor thing, can't move can you?"

・He loves teasing you. He does it throughout the day, but when you're alone, he whispers the most dirtiest things in your ear to rile you up.

・He likes to slowly take off your clothes, just to make you feel slightly annoyed.

"Hurry up, Negan!" You whine, trying to take your own clothes off, but he stops you.

"Ah ah ah, no baby," he says.

・Then he takes off his own clothes and lays down on the bed.

・You look at him with such hunger that his cock gets so hard it hurts.

"Come." he orders and beckons you forward. It's only then that you're allowed to take your clothes off.

・As you climb ontop of him, he flips you over and wraps your legs around his head.

・He starts sucking, and licking and moaning into your cunt.

𝑅𝑂𝑆𝐼𝑇𝐴

・She may seem like a bold woman while having sex, but really she's just as flustered as the rest of us.

・Rosita likes to take it slow. At first.

・She takes her time to kiss your pulse points; kneck, wrist etc.,

・And your lap is her favourite place to be. Legs either side of your yours. Cowgirl posiition.

・She holds you neck and kisses you like it's the last day on earth.

・You always feel desired when you're with Rosita. She has you yearning for more, more, more.

・It's like you need to touch her, and you need to feel her touch you.

・She makes the sweetest moans, all high pitched and whiney.

・You like to grind on each other when you get too fired up. Naked and rubbing against her own cunt is heaven.

・She swears a lot, usually in Spanish and she tells you what it means when you're spent and lying in each other's arms.

𝐷𝐴𝑅𝑌𝐿

・He's rather shy when it comes to intimacy. He's never had an intimate relationship with anyone.

・And neither does Daryl feel sexy but he gets close when the two of you are alone together

・He likes learning what makes you tick, what touches feel the best and what has you moaning in delight.

・His favourite position is missionary, with his body atop yours, an arm around your head as he pumps in and out.

・He's slow at first, dragging his cock in and out of your warm, wet hole. He bites your shoulder groaning at the feeling.

・Tears prickle his eyes as he goes deeper and deeper, earning loud moans from you

Daryl Dixon who tried not to let his anxiety show when your fever spiked.

Daryl Dixon who goes to Carol to try to figure out the best way to treat your illness.

Daryl Dixon who reminds you multiple times that he doesn’t care if you end up getting him sick, your comfort is more important to him.

Daryl Dixon who braids your hair out of your face, so it doesn’t get in the way when you vomit.

Daryl Dixon who, if possible, runs you a warm bath to soothe your trembling body.

Daryl Dixon who ensures that you never feel guilty for getting sick in front of him.

Daryl Dixon who feeds you warm soup and crackers when your stomach can tolerate it.

Daryl Dixon who holds you and rubs your back until you finally drift off.

Daryl Dixon who obsessively checks your breathing while you sleep, as if he’s worried it will stop the second his eyes aren’t on you.

Daryl Dixon who finally allows himself to rest once your fever breaks.

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