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hi writella, sorry to bother you im new to asking on tumblr but i love your writing sm and was wondering if you're going to come back soon? i hope you do <3
Omg hi! And yes I will, I promise! The spring semester finished as of today for me so I finally have time for writing. Thank you for asking, I appreciate you đ!!!
Daredevil comes back today. đâ€ïž I remember watching the last episode of season two the night they took it off Netflix. It feels like forever ago. So excited to see Matt and Frank and everyone again!!!
Synopsis: âWhenâs it gonna be my turn? Open me up, tell me you like it, fuck me to death, love me until I love myselfââ This is a story about the inner struggles of a desiring Daryl who just wants to be free of the perceptions the town, and his own mind, have put on him, so he can love you and love himself, in the ways heâs always wanted to.
âor: As Daryl becomes the talk of the town, insecurity sets in that hinders him from having sex with youâ the thing you most want to do.
Details: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader, ambiguous age gap, mixing early seasonsâ + later seasonsâ personality of Daryl, the town being mean but also thinking Darylâs hot because he is, discussions of gossiping, insecurity, and poor self-image, Daryl fights someone :), and smutâ unprotected + heâs nervous but then it gets good, and itâs their/Darylâs/your first time in whatever way you want it to be.
A/N: Heâs literally me (Iâm a girl).
â With love from writella. âĄ
There it was. You finally said it. You told Daryl that you were ready to have sex.
When you told him, the two of you were having a quiet morning and he was about to leave. Pulling yourself up to his height, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and he took you by the waist, one hand reached up to hold your head, rubbing his thumb there. Good, you had thought, heâs reciprocating. That let you know he was okay, but still, underneath, you knew he was embarrassed about last night. You werenât going to bring it up though, not then. You wanted to move forward, to show him that you didnât care. âDaryl,â you started, words slow, uneasy in voice but sure in intention, as you whispered to him from above his shoulder, âI just wanted to tell youâ thatâ I feel like Iâm ready.â You paused for a moment. âAnd whatever you feel, Iâm okay with it. Just talk to me.â As silence ensued, you kissed him on the cheek, âI love you,â you said, and pulled back.
Daryl kept his hands in yours as he looked at you. His features were sad and soft as much as they were unreadable. He kissed you on the forehead. âI love you too,â he saidâ it wasnât the first time you two had exchanged those wordsâ and then he left. Just like that.
You had no expectation for how he would react. You only knew he wouldnât give you a flat-out no, so this, was understandable. But still, there was something hollow about it, even if his kiss and words were tender. It was another relationship moment that reminded you that these things never happen as they do in fairytale romances.
You see, you had always pictured him or whoever you were with at the time, bringing you close, kissing you, their fingers trailing down and under the hem of your skirt or pants, asking you if you were ready, if you were sure, if you wanted them to go slow, slower, but Darylâ as it turnsâwas incredibly pure, or at least pretending to be. Either too nervous or sensitive about these things, possibly inexperienced, or much more innocent with his intentions than you ever expected. Itâs like you knew Daryl like the back of your hand, but when it came to anything about you as a couple, his history, who heâs dated beforeâ you were clueless. You didnât know what it could be.
One thing you did suspect, although Daryl has never told you, is that he thought of you as precious, something to be delicate with, like a flower. Sometimes youâd tell him he didnât have to be so slow or soft when you were kissingâ he was always a little sloppy anywayâ and whenever there was a task to get done youâd be the first to tell anyone you could do it yourself, he knew this about you. And itâs not like he babies you or anything, that was never his way. Like when you two were fighting walkers, or doing work around the communities, or when heâs teaching you how to do something. Youâve even told him that he could be a bit demanding sometimes, grouchy, rough, and he agreedâ that was true. He didnât do it on purpose, the whole being hard on you thing. But alone? When he was on top of you or you over him? Waking up to you? Feeling your hand reach for his own in the dark? Even just eating dinner with you? The guy was a mess! A little boy, even. Heart racing. Eyes averted at times.
Whenever he nipped you, on the lips, or the neck, maybe he pushed you on the bed too hard, grabbed your waist too tight that it squeezed the bone, there were always silent apologizes of gentle circles, sweet kisses, and tongue licks to soothe the pain or possible bruises he left on you. And sometimes, when youâre home alone or you shower together, and he starts to kiss you or pull you in by the waist, he almost always sets out with the intention that this time heâd finally do itâ the sex thingâ he always wanted to. Only if you knew! Honestly, heâd feel like such a pervert if he let you know how many times, both before and after you got together, that heâs thought of being inside you, or you on your knees for him, or him kissing up your thighs and tasting youâ he genuinely thinks heâd really like it, all of it, but especially that. But every time youâve kissed and kissed enough, heâd get too overwhelmed about how to proceed or too nervous to even try. He tells you that you two should shower or go to bed or that he has to go for whatever reason. So all youâve done is grind on each other, a lot, but thatâs about it. You know heâs gotten hard and youâve gotten wet, but youâre not sure if heâs ever noticed. He wants to put his hands in your pants, he wants to rip your blouse, he wants to squeeze your tits and slap your ass, but every time he thinks about actually doing it, he feels it's too forward or raunchy, or maybe it's not actually like him in the way heâs pictured in his head, or maybe youâd hate it, and specifically the way he did it. And he has thought about doing it slowly, romantically, but every time he thinks about doing that, he feels stupid, thinking heâll come off as clumsy and pathetic to you. He doesnât exactly get the concept of slow and sexy yetâ reaching up, breathing you in, letting his fingers linger, or hands caress and massage. Itâs not that he couldnât do it though, or so he thinks, if he really tries; it's that doesnât even think heâs sexy to begin with.
The only thing Daryl knows for sure are the things people call him when they think heâs not listening.
âDeep and⊠grunty,â one much too young girl said to her equally young friend who giggled, indicating her agreement even if she was too afraid to verbalize it. âI just like his voice,â the first girl said, âitâs sexy.â Or, âWild,â as one of Aaronâs friends whispered to him, âLike he could throw me around, do it in front of the whole town, and wouldnât care who saw.â To which Aaron scoffed and replied, âThatâs literally my fucking friend.â But in truth, itâs not like he hadnât thought about it himself, how Daryl looked underneath his vest and button-downsâ it was just once though!â he promises!â as if he needed to explain it to himself. He even told his husband about it; they had agreed on Darylâs attractiveness. Eric called it ârugged,â and they laughed about it over dinner. Now, Aaron would repeat that word as he overheard another group of ladies discussing ways to describe or trademark some of the male leaders in town. As Aaron passed by, ârugged,â was his suggested alternative to the word âbeastâ when one older lady described Daryl, in a way that would make anyone not a part of the conversation cringe, âBeast, sexy armed beast.â But Aaron was only met with silence and weird hums until a girl replied that âsexy armed rugged,â doesnât make any sense. To that, all the ladies agreed. As Aaron walked away, wanting nothing more with this kind of conversation about his friends, he caught the new suggestion: âDaddy,â a girl had said with the widest smile on her faceâ she wasnât a teenager, but it was obviously her first time being vocal about these things. She must have felt she said something so salacious. And as much as Aaron wanted to gag, there was also a part of him that reluctantly stopped himself from laughing and blushing with the rest of the woman. One of them rolled her eyes saying, âThey canât all be daddy,â to which another girl said, âBut they kind of are!â and then he was too far away to hear anymore.
Daryl didnât get any of it.
The only ones that truly bothered him though were when they added, âI know heâs a little ugly but,â or âI know heâs not my type but,â or âI know he looks a little dirty but,â âAnd he never does his hair but,â âAnd heâs not like the smartest but,â but, but, butâ
It all made him feel bad about himself; more confused.
Even when it was just generally flattering, he found it hard to take any of it as a compliment. Sometimes he would, maybe the whispers of him being âkinda hot,â on the days when heâd return to his cut-off sleeved shirts, or maybe those moments when a lady would be talking to her friend saying how heâs âhandsome,â or how she just knows âheâs packingâbigââ and whatâs better than a big dick, right? At least that is what Daryl thoughtâ it's the bit of Merle in himâ and he bets Negan wished he had oneâ Daryl was pretty sure Neganâs is a tiny little bitch just like his personality. No one gets to kill one of his best friends and gets more than a three-incher. Right, J.C.? If youâre even up there? Not that Daryl would mind if you were or werenât, or cares if you did, he wouldnât mindâ Daryl didnât think about religion that much anymore. And on that note, he realizes that he doesnât do a lot of the same things he used to anymore. Like the way he would walk around without a care, even confidently sometimes, not thinking about how much he swung his arms or the way he talked or the way his hair fell that day. There was this one time, as he was walking over to Rick in the garden, telling him he couldnât find whatever particular tools Rick wanted, he yelled, âThey ainât there no more, Rick!â that he heard some older guy say to his friend that Daryl sounded like a âhuman gremlin,â to which the friend tried to one-up him by saying, âmore like a garbage disposal.â Then another day, some girl said he looks like a âwet rat sometimes,â especially when his hair is flat or, as said in the phrase, wet; and he never forgot it, either of them or anything anyone has ever said about him. Itâs always been like this. Even when he was a kid.
Daryl tries to remember that people have just gotten too comfortable now that Alexandria is back on track, at least thatâs basically what you had said. One day, Daryl came into your room, huffing and throwing himself on your desk chair, saying, âSome people donât know how to keep their mouths shut.â To which you had asked him what was wrong, but he shook his head.
âWell,â you begin, responding to his un-answer, âsome gossip is misogynized. It used to be a way for women to spread information, butââ you avoid the lectureâ âI get what you mean.â You look at him, seeing the way his eyes still drift. âI canât tell you everything, but Rosita and I had heard some people speculate on the whole her and Saddiq and Gabriel thing.â You shook your head, your eyes rolling a little, âIt made her upset. I could tell. But it took her a while to talk about it. I think some people forget they can talk behind closed doors now. Our porches arenât as private as they used to be, and people have gotten mean.â To that, you both nodded in agreement and then you climbed toward the edge of your bed to hold his hand. Something was obviously wrong. âHas anyone said anything about you?â
Again, he shakes his head and you have to leave it at thatâ all he wanted to do was ask questions about you now, and he wouldnât let you change the subject.
But at home, alone, he stares at the mirror, trying to see what other people see: handsome, rugged, possibly wild⊠but all he saw were things he didnât l understand, things that made him feel he wasnât good enough. Did they really think he was attractive? And if so, why did they always have to bring up that there was something completely unattractive about him before the compliment? And why were those remarks always easier to believe? Or was it all just some weird fantasy they felt dirty about having? And was being rude behind his back was some sort of justification for it? Was it all of them above? Most importantly, did you think any of this?
Next Saturday, a week after you told him you were ready, the town gathered in the church during the evening for the monthly communal meal. This was something that started during the rehabilitation of Alexandria, another thing that the population was getting too big to contain, but Rick and Judith liked it. So, Michonne agreed to keep itâ for nowâ despite reasoning that âthis is what holidays are for, Rick.â
It was about an hour in, 6pm and sunset now past. Some people who had been busy working were still filing in, little by little, but for the most part, a majority of citizens were seated, eating, and chatting. There was a steady rain outside that made everything smell fresh, and if it wasnât for all the chatter, you could even possibly hear the light drumming on the church walls. Everyone was quite pleased about it, spring seemed to be coming early.
Daryl had not come to see you last night and left early this morning so you didnât know where he went or what he did, but what you did know for certain is that he never carried an umbrella. Therefore, when he finally arrived, 30 minutes later, his hair was soaked, and since he didnât even wear his jacket, the long sleeves of his shirt were drenched with water droplets sticking to his vest and shoes that sloshed and left wet footprints on the wooden floor.
Obvious to say, he was noticed by all.
There is a fine line with Daryl between not giving a fuck about how he was perceived, and caring far too much while not willing to do anything about it, and of course, with all that has happened in the past few weeks, it was the ladder. He hated being the center of attention, but it was hard for him to not be noticeable, it never was, especially now. He felt ridiculous.
As he walks onto the stageâ where all the tables of food are placedâ you follow him.
âHi,â you say next to him.
âHi,â he replies, calling you by your nickname kindly enough, but not ever looking at you.
âYou know, I think Rick was hoping you were coming back on time. I donât know why he put all that stuff on his chair if it wasnât for you or Michonne and Michonne sat with me.â
He simply nods, humming as acknowledgment.
âDaryl,â you move to the other side of the table as he gathers his food so he can look at you. Quietly you say, âWe donât have to talk about it now, butâ I hope I didnât make you feel uncomfortable the other day. Or if it was about the night before, you just have to tell me.â You poke his shoulder, âYouâre acting weird and you know it.â
âYou didnât make me uncomfortable,â is all he grumbles.
âBut I still want to say Iâm sorry if I did.â
Daryl quickly finds some napkins to dry his hands and wrists with and comes over to place them on the sides of your head to kiss you there. âYou ainât got anything to be sorry about. Alright? Iâm fine.â His hands drop and holds you by the neck for a moment, the movement makes some water droplets bleed onto your clothes, you feel it but you say nothing. The only thing Daryl notices from you is that your eyes look almost identical to his despite the differing colorâ his mood is affecting yours, but he doesnât know what to say right now to make you feel better so he opts for something he always know is true, âYouâre perfect. You know that right?â And Iâm just fuckinâ weirdo, he wants to add, but he doesnât.
You were smiling at him. He doesnât get it. He looked like an idiot all soaking wet and you were smiling at him. There couldnât be a better reaction, but still, itâs moments like this where he canât believe youâre real. All you say is âOkay,â never taking a compliment, just like him, instead of finding a way to break-up with him like he always nearly suspects. âCome to me when you finish, alright? We can leave if you want?â
âAlright,â he responds and you leave him be.
As Daryl goes down the rows of tables picking out what he wants, he heads to the last one. The way the event was set up was that everyone who came early had the opportunity to take a seat at one of the four tables that were placed along each corner of the stage and the rest sat in the pews, but despite the higher vantage point the stage gave, that did not mean Daryl couldnât hear what those around the stage were saying around himâ as always. It must be a hunterâs ear or something.
âBe careful,â a woman says smirking, her eyes gesturing to Daryl. âLetâs hope he doesnât wet us.â The friend in front of her snickers, looking back to see that Daryl is now by the table just above theirs. Whispering, the first woman continues, shaking her head, âI donât know how Rick or the girl put up with it. She just acted like nothing was wrong. Heâs mudding up the whole damn church!â
Daryl keeps his back turned. This ends up being his last straw. âHow about you shut the fuck up,â he mutters.
âExcuse me?â
Louder, facing no one in particular he yells, âWhy does everyone act like I donât got ears?â
You look up, synchronized with everyone in the church and get up with Rick who is already slowly approaching him, but Michonne yanks you down.
âWhat is your problem?â
To that, he turns back to the woman, âHow âbout you say what you said again and stop talking shit under your breath.â
âWhat?â
âI said,â he starts yelling again, âif you got somethinâ to say about me lady, say it to maâ face. Thatâs what I said.â
âHey, whatâs goinâ on?â Rick asks almost warningly, but not before someone yells, âWho the fuck are you talking to, man?â from one of the aisles in the back. It was her husband, now standing from his seat. He and his wife make eye contact, and instantly heâs moving closer.
Daryl walks to the edge of the front stage, barking a quick âmoveâ without any pause and Eugene and Siddiq violently bob their heads and grab their plates as Daryl steps on the table and jumps to the floor.
Rick tries to push him back but itâs no use, Daryl pushes him in return and he and the husband are charging at each other, speaking over each other: âWhat did you say to my wife?â âTold her to shut the fuck up. Thought I said it loud enoughââ âNah, man you were mumblinâ like alwaysââ âOr dâyou need me to say it louder with ma garbage disposal mouth?â Daryl pushes him, âHuh?â âIâm not fighting you, man.â But Daryl persists, getting in the manâs face, their noses almost touching. He whispers, âYou know, maybe your wifeâs got everyoneâs name in her mouth because she donât fuckinâ like you.â The man keeps shaking his head, but Daryl surprises him, he isnât the only one the town gossips about. âSheâs fucking Mark,â he tells him. That was true, and people knew it. âHeâs your friend, ainât he? Maybe thatâs why sheâs alwaysââ But no, not him, her husband did not know, so he punches, straight in the eye. Daryl almost smiles as he takes the next swing.
The two are tussling, but not for long as Rick takes the chance to get Daryl from behind, taking him away with Gabrielâs help. âYou done?â Rick asks as Gabriel holds him on the other side, His grip honestly does nothing though and Daryl shrugs him off. Poor Gabe looks like heâs about to have an aneurysm to see the churchâ practically his churchâ in such disarray.
With that, and with Daryl raging too much to contain, he shrugs Rick off and stomps out.
Michonne finally takes her hand off of your wrist and you make you way to leave too. As you walk, you look back to Rick who is already trying to follow, and wordlessly tell him that itâs your turn now, then, turn to awkwardly dodge the people still standing in the aisle and collect your things to go.
Daryl was not hard to find. It almost made you think he wanted to be found or knew youâd go after himâ heâs being such a child today. Despite the town lights, you hold out your flashlight to find him sits on a tree stump on the edge of town next to one of his favorite trees. The leaves did a terrible job of covering him from anything but you knew he didnât care. It was almost laughable honestly. Still, you take pity, he was yours and you were concerned. âI know you donât care about getting wet,â you say with no malice or disappointment in your voice, âbut all that water in your shoes can cause blisters. You didnât even wear the ones that donât have holes.â
He just shakes his head, as always, and water droplets fall from the tips of his hair.
âRemember when that happened to me and you drained them with needles even though Saddiq told us not to?â
He stares at you, stone-faced for a moment. âYouâre the one who told me to do it.â
âBecause they hurt really bad!â
âYou were being a baby.â
âReally?â You ask ironically. âSo if Iâm the baby why are you acting like one right now? Itâs been raining since morning, Daryl! Not even a jacket? Youâre obviously upset about something but Iâm not going to continue this with you in the rain, looking like a sad, wet puppy.â
He sneered at the comment, wet.
âLetâs just go home, okay? Let me take you.â
âWe donât live together.â
You frown. âDonât be mean, Daryl,â you gently warn. âYou know what I mean.â
You hold your hand out for him, water collecting in your palm as you wait. It was more of a gesture than actual help as you two were still a few feet away from each other. âPlease? You could have already ran away on your bike or gone home and locked your door but you didnât. I donât know whatâs going on but donât act like I donât know you.â
Reluctantly, he gets up, walking to you in almost slow motion. You wish you could call him the drama queen he is right now, but it was time to get out of this rainâ you would hold it in for the time being.
As you enter the small place, you make no conversation. You simply get to work and he doesnât stop you. You take off your rain jacket and boots, then you take off his vest and boots. You drag him to his room and hang up your sweater and take off your jewelry, then you empty his pant pockets. Finally, you hold his hand as he trails behind you and into the bathroom. You unbutton his shirt and unzip his pants and place them all in the hamper. He takes off his underwear and helps you take off your clothes too. When youâre done, you turn on the water and go in, he follows. You bathe and wash his hair in silence. You are tender and gentle, and he knows it, he appreciates it, but his mind is loud, and angry, and he feels so pathetic as you wash him like heâs 5 years old. You turn around to start washing yourself as he takes care of cleaning his legs and lower area. After heâs done, all he can do is look at you, your body, the soft humming you canât help but do when you shower. Itâs exactly as he said, youâre perfect. He wants to bang his head against the wall because of it.
When you two finish, you sit on his bed, wearing one of his white shirts and a pair of boxers, he wears the same except his bottoms are sweatpants. He hates these kinds of casual clothes actually, heâs only okay with wearing it sometimes, but he has nothing else at the moment. All he had to do was give his clothes to Carol to wash, but he didnât. He hasnât really done anything this week.
âMs. Ellen is a bitch.â You finally say, giving him an ice pack for his eye. âAnd so is Mr. Gary and they both have the whiteness names in the world. And theyâre both lazy as fuck and reek of nepotism because they only had one of the biggest houses and biggest egos in Alexandria because they were friends with Deanna and theyâre still bitter that their house being destroyed in the fireâ which I getâ but itâs not okay that she uses her bitterness to talk shit about everyone. And itâs also not okay that you used your anger to fight someone who didnât deserve it. That wasnât like you.â
âMaybe it is. You didnât always know me.â
âWell, sure, can act like a toughââ
âI donât act like anythingââ
âFine, Iâll change it: Can you be a tough guy? Yeah. But do you pick fights and make big scenes in front of the kids like that? No, you donât.â You stare at him, tapping him on the knee and forcing him to look at you. âYou not talking is obviously not working, Daryl. Just tell me whatâs wrong.â
He takes a moment. âI justââ
âWhat?â
âI donât want to disappoint you,â he finally says lowly.
âI donât think you could,â you answer, âIâm not even now, Iâm just frustrated. Or confused really. Why do you think you would?â
He lowers his ice pack, âCause Iâm not fuckinâ Rick.â
You laugh a little. âWell, I did have my suspicions, but great, thatâs good to know. Iâm glad youâre not fucking Rick.â
He sucks his teeth. âBe serious.â
âHave you not realized Iâve been trying to be? For weeks now? It obviously doesnât work.â Both of you look down as you continue, âAnd I finally tell you how I feel and what I want and you just leave and barely talk to me for the rest of the week. And before you even mention coming into my bed at night or saying goodnight or good morning to me and telling me what youâll do that day, thatâs not talking, it's just saying stuff. At some point I canât always chalk it up to Oh, thatâs just Daryl; at some point, a person starts thinking that they're the problem. That Iâm the problem! That Iâm not good enough.â
A tear falls down your cheek involuntarily, then another; you were clenching your jaw after you finished speaking but it was no use. After everything, all the bullshit and the girls and the punch to his eye that really fucking hurt even though it was his fault he got it, this is actually the worst thing that has happened to Daryl in the past monthsâ making you cry.
âYouâre more than good enough,â he says in his mumble, still not looking at you. âIâm just stupid.â
âYouâre not stupid!â You yell frustratingly as you wipe tears away. âStop talking down about yourself!â
Daryl looks off into the window. He wants to speak, he does. The words are all on the tip of his tongue but they cannot come out, they never do. As he watches you wipe away your last tears, he thinks everyone is right, that that guy is right, he has a garbage mouth, his voice is poison. He never makes any sense and he always says the wrong thing. Why speak anyway?
âI canât help you or at least try to understand if you donât say anything. I know it's hardâ I donât like doing it either. I was scared to tell you what I did last week. But it just starts with one thing.â
âIt's too hard to.â
âBut Iâve never judged you, right? â
He shakes his head. You havenât.
âThe first thing that comes to your mind when I say, âwhatâs wrong?â, what is it? Just say it. I donât care what it is. Iâm not going to judge you, Iâm not going to say youâre wrong, anythingââ
âPeople think Iâm ugly,â he interrupts, âIâve heard them say it.â
Your eyes widen, in shock for him and in shock that people could still care about such stupid things right now. âWho said that to you?â
He shakes his head. âThatâs why I mentioned Rick. No one says stuff like that about Rick.â
âWell, I donât want you to be like Rick and you donât have to be.â
âThatâs not the point.â
âThen what is?â
He gestures to himself, slapping his hands on his thighs, âLook at me.â
Thereâs something about the way his hand then reaches to cover his eyes in frustration, the way he slides it down to scratch his beard, accidentally magnifying to you the wisps of salt and pepper among the brown that gives you a clue to what he means. âIâm not some little girl, and I havenât been for a long time.â
âI know, but youâre not my age either. And I donât always think about you when it comes to it, itâs about me- I think about me.â
âSo what about it? When it comes to the hair on your head and your eyes and the way you talkâ that has nothing to do with how old you are, thatâs just who you are. You didnât choose to look as you do. And you and Rick have always looked the same age if I have to mention him, and his beard is whiter than yours at this point. Neither of you look old, or bad.â Your words do nothing so far. âYou also have a better build than plenty of people in town. Youâre stronger too.â
âBut when they talk about Rick, all they say is that he talks too much and that heâs bossy and hardass and at least thatâs true.â
You couldnât help but smile, almost laughing a bit at that. It kind of was true.
âIâve never heard anyone say things about him the way they say about me. Never anything about how he looks. But when they talk about meâ they think Iâm a fuckinâ animal.â There is silence after this. The word wild lingers in his mind and animal in yours. Again you want to ask, who could say that and have they not realized all Daryl has done for this place? Then, the more you listen, the more you realize that hidden beneath those with endless respect are some with hearts of cruelty and minds stuck in the regular old world ways that donât exist anymore. âAnd sometimes, when I think about why you like me, I think that maybe itâs despite other things.â
âDespite?â
âDespite.â He practically spits.
âWe all have bad qualities though. Weâre not perfect.â
âI mean that Iâm not some regular good looking guy.â
âWhy would I want regular?â Your smile fades as his sad eyes persist. âDaryl, I canât change your mind or make you feel the way I do about you, but why canât you trust that I like you, and that I want to be around you? And that Iâm,â you blush, âvery attracted to you and Iâve felt like an embarrassing teenage girl the past few months waiting and trying to get you to have sex with me!â Quietly you say, âHave you not realized how much I really want you? How much I care? Everyday I feel lucky.â
He canât take it. âGuess itâs like you saidâ canât believe it if I donât see it myself.â
His mouth is screwed shut, his throat tight, but just like you, itâs no use, a tear rolls down his cheek. Immediately you hug him. He holds you tightly in return and even though it makes your ribs hurt a little, you let him. All of this makes you see how much you two are alike than youâve ever realized.
âYou know,â you say into his hair, âthere was this one time, I was up super early and couldnât go back to sleep so I went out for a walk. I passed by Oliviaâs house and she waved me over from her window and asked me if I could help her restock the pantry before Rick came later in the day to check it because she had this huge migraine. Well, that turned into me doing the whole thing for her. She said she was going inside for a break and some water and the next thing I know sheâs asleep on her couch! And you know how her niece lives with her? I guess she runs in the morning and while I was finishing up, her and her friend lean up against one of the garage doors and I hear them talking. I was just about to open the door to leave but then she says, âSheâs sweet but kind of a kiss-ass, right? Like a try-hard?â And then her friend goes, âYeah, she really wants to be one of them,â âBut all she is, is just Darylâs little girlfriend.ââ Daryl lets go to face you, his eyes incredulous just as yours were when he said someone called him ugly. âAnd then they started saying how I insert myself into places or something, so thought if I came out right then and they see me having done Oliviaâs job for her⊠I didn't want them to get an up-close look of them being right. So I waited until they went in the house and then I left and for the whole rest of the week I was upset because I thought I was becoming friends with those girls but really I wasnât, and I questioned if Rick and Michonne or Rosita or Glenn and Maggie even thought of me as a friend because they actually like me or if Iâm even good enough to be one or if itâs only because Iâm associated to you that they care to talk to me. I felt pathetic too.â You pause. âSo, Iâm really sorry, Daryl. You donât deserve to feel like youâre being picked on in the town you live inâ in the place you helped create.â
âIt ainât your fault.â
âThat doesnât make a difference. I should have said something.â
âYou didnât have to. I wanted that to happen.â
âBut I wish I knew. Cause I would have if I knew. I feel like I let Michonne stop me because I didnât understand. And all Iâm saying is whether I've had it as bad as you or not, I do get it. And Iâm angry for you. And you donât have to be embarrassed to tell me things like this. It was dumb of me to keep my feelings in, just like you do with everything.â
Daryl swipes his hair to the side, parts of it are dry and waving while other areas are still wet, making him think about the rat joke. âNo one likes you because of me,â he says. âYouâre likable because youâre you and you care. And fuck those dumb-ass girls. Theyâre idiots for saying that.â He rubs your thigh. âI didnât say anything the other day because when we were in the shower the night before I,â God, he feels stupid, âI got hard and you saw it and I realized it was the first time you saw it like that before and, I donât know, I got scared.â
âDid you think that Iâd think youâre ugly?â
âI donât know.â
âDaryl,â you tisk, âafter the amount of times weâve showered together already?â
He gets defensive, âI donât know! Felt different.â
âPeople usually get excited to know their partner is excited because of them.â
âI just feel like youâre gonna be disappointed.â
âWhy do you always think that? I donât have any expectations. I just want you to show me you love me.â You begin to look nervous, âI want to feel wanted too.â
âBut I do⊠I do want you.â
âThen show me.â
âI donât know how.â
You try to think, âDarylâ what is it that you picture when- when you want to do it?â
âI picture you,â he says simply.
âYou do?â Your face is immediately warm.
He laughs, âOf course I do.â
âWell what do I do? Or what do you do to me?â
âDepends.â
âPick one,â you say, almost desperately.
âSometimes it just starts with what we always do. Kissinâ. Maybe youâre on top of me.â
You waste no time; you get on top of him.
âAnd I press you down.â Darylâs hands are now heavy on your hips, your hands are on his chest, you rock into him slowly.
âAnd sometimes I think about you bouncing on me or-â he pauses, the way you rock and the way he pushes up to you hitting a perfect spot of friction that makes the both of you gasp.
âSay it,â you tell him.
âIâm fucking you from behind. Or you're on the bottom and Iâm going hard or being all gentle and shit like you but I donât know how.â
âYou know we can do all that, right?â
Daryl is red. Both you and him are surprised at yourself, but his bashfulness almost brings it out of you naturally. And honestly, your jacked and grumpy dilf boyfriend has left you repressed for far too longâ youâre horny.
Suddenly, you move yourself onto one of his thighs and start palming his bulge as you rock. âDo I do this in your dreams?â
He almost groans, âNow you do.â
You move yourself from his thigh and lay down to start kissing him. He reciprocates, grabbing your face and pulling you close. Daryl starts nipping at your neck and you try your hardest not to yelp so he wonât stop. As you two continue, your slick starts to wet his boxers and you press your legs together as he gets harder under his sweatpants.
âHave you ever noticed how wet I get when we kiss?â
âOnly at night,â itâs hard for his words to come out as you continue palming him, âwhen you donât have clothes on.â
âAnd you never did anything about it?â You whine. âDo you know how bad I need you? How much I think about you?â
âI think about you more.â
âYou do?
âYes.â Daryl swallows, whimpering a little. You now stroke him, his dick riding up against his thigh, and it feels too good. âWhat- What do I do in your dreams?â
âYou lay me on the bed and put your dick in me and fuck me and it feels amazing,â you say between hot breaths. âAnd youâre not scared to do it.â
âI wanna do it.â
âSo, please, Daryl, do it. I want it so bad.â
Daryl uses your words as courage. He takes you off of him and goes over you.
You both take off your shirts and he strips you from his boxers and him from his sweatpants.
Finally, without regret or without him turning away you see his cock stand. Itâs proud, meaty, and you canât lie, a little scary, but youâll never tell him, even if your widening eyes give you away. Itâll fit, you assure yourself. You wonât be afraid.
âYou okay?â He asks, timidity setting in again.
But you nod assuredly. âYes.â
âAre you sure?â
You pout, heâs stalling. âWhen you look at me, what do you see?â
âBeautiful.â
âAnd you're handsome. No pretenses. No exceptions.â You come up on your knees to face him, kissing his lips softly. âItâs like we said, weâve dreamed about this.â
You lay down again, and Daryl places his hands on your inner thighs to spread them, making space for himself. You watch as takes hold of himself, mouth agape and pumping himself a few times as he stares at your body before slowly entering you. Your pussy is drooling at the sight.
Your eyes instantly close and scrunch. Although it worries Daryl, heâs glad youâve shut them so he can continue looking up and downâ up at your face to see if youâre in pain and down as he watches his cock enter you for the first time. You were incredibly tight to him, tighter than he ever imagined, he wasnât used to this feeling and he liked it, a lot. It made his stomach clench and all his muscles flex as his breathing gets heavier, trying to stop the possibility of him moaning at the sight of it all.
âAre you okay?â
It was big and there was something about it that felt good but it hurt, the stretch indescribable, but you nod and tell him, âI like it,â because that was true, and everything else felt like too much to explain right now, your thoughts almost dissipating.
âYou sure?â
You just nod again, whining.
âAlright,â he says, putting his hands on the bed to start.
Once more your eyes screw shut. He almost takes himself out before he pushes back into you again. He doesnât know if he went slow enough but he tried. Your eyes wrinkling because of how hard you closed them doesnât help though. He wants to tell you to relax but heâs not even relaxed himself to even make it sound believable.
He tries again, not going so far out this time and slowly goes back in to the hilt again, so slowly in fact he thinks that must have been awkward for you. He stops, tries one more time, then stops again. Your sounds seem like youâre hurt. He knows youâll say itâs just pain and adjustment to his size but he instantly perceives it as disgust. He knows itâs not, but he canât help it, he canât. He must be âtoo muchâ; âtoo big,â thatâs what it is. Those are things he has heard in porn tapes Merle used to give him or things he noticed in porno mags he maybe used to read that he had found in a store near Hershelâs farm all those years ago, and supposedly it was a good thing for it to be too much, but now, look at you: you were in pain. And it was taking everything in him not to ram into you. He felt pathetic, again. Stupid, again. Like he didnât know what he was doing. Maybe he should just withdraw right now, clean you up, try to give you a sympathetic look through his hair that said he was sorry for defiling you and not even make you feel an ounce of pleasure in the process. Everyone was right, he is a joke.
âDaryl,â you say, looking up at him, âyou donât have to keep stopping for me. I just need to relax and you just need to be slow. I think I can take it.â
âI know,â he responds, kissing your forehead.
âClose your eyes,â you tell him. âDo what feels right to you. You have to trust me to tell you if it hurts or not.â
He almost laughs at that. You think heâs so strong; that he has all the power. Itâs so strange to him.
Daryl puts his head in the crux of your neck, closes his eyes, and tries again. He holds your waist, thumb on your ribs and the other fingers on your back as he pushes his hips into you.
You hug his chest and feel all of it. âMake yourself feel good Daryl, itâs gonna feel so good to me if you do that, I promise.â After his 4th small pump you let out a whiny moan of relief. âOh- okay- keep going.â
Daryl moves his elbows to the bed by your head and starts pushing his hips against you, finding a rough yet steady rhythm. He loves the slapping sound your bodies are making and canât help but speed up. He goes deeper and you start moaning. He already feels heâs losing himself. He tries to kiss you to slow down, but realizes he canât plow into you the same way he just found out he likes. He goes back to it and he starts grunting and groaningâ there is a part of him that is embarrassed by it but it just feels so good. âAre you gonna come?â He asks between sharp thrusts.
âDonât focus on that,â you tell him. âStay like this. Please.â
You didnât have to tell him twice, he really canât think of anything anymore than continuing to pump himself in you so he does. You try your best to rock up into him, but he has full control, his hands on your hips still as tight as ever as he pushes into you, making you and the bed bounce at his mercy.
Youâre more than fine with it all. Even better, you couldnât believe this meant that Daryl was about to come inside you. Something in you knew it was about to happen. It was the way he placed his elbows by your head and started cursing and ramming into you harder and even whimpered in your ear and gave you these little puppy kisses there before getting back to it. You were surprised by how noisy he was but you didnât dare say a word other than panting and whining back into him so heâd continue, even in moments when it felt too much and too hard. He was forgetting all his doubts and that was the goal right now. You lock your legs around his hips and tell him, âYou feel amazing inside me. My handsome man,â and that does it, âOh, fuck,â he says as he releases every last drop of himself inside you.
Now, as he slows down, he looks at you, thumb on your bottom lip and chin as he tries his best to keep rolling his hips on you as he comes down from his high, but you ask, âWill you kiss me down there, Daryl? Iâve always wanted that.â
âYou donât want me to make you come?â
âI think itâll happen if you do it like that. I just want to know what it feels like.â
He stops for a moment deciding if this means heâs failed or not, but he simply says, âOkay,â all kindly and nodding like it was your idea even though it was because this means another one of his dreams were coming true.
Instantly, heâs licking you, feeling more assured of what he could doâ this was one of his most vivid fantasies so even though he doesnât know for sure, he thinks heâs got.
âOh, oh my god,â his tongue is bringing up wetness to your clit and sucking on it, âthatâs good.â He starts licking your clit, going fast, âDaryl, thatâs so good.â
He looks up at you, dazed already, âYeah?â
âOh, yes.â You fix his hair and he loves the feeling. Truly, he was going a little too fast actually, going up and down and this way and that way too much, but the sounds his mouth and your pussy were making together were too glorious. You let him go, you let him be proud, and either way, youâre whining and moaning because of it. Heâs perfectly imperfect and he doesnât even know it. But youâre too in love with the feeling of him to explain what that means right now so all you say is what he told you about yourself in the church, âI think youâre just perfect.â
To that, he stops again and he looks up at you, smiling. Itâs one of those rare ones he seldom does, teeth and all, and your slick coating his lips all the while. His eyes are shining, and he gives you the smallest, sweetest, most innocent kiss to the most obscene place on your bodyâ your clit.
At this point all your sounds have been short, quiet, filled with whines but to this, you moan at the sight, full and loud. Itâs involuntary. Itâs pornographic. Itâs the hottest thing heâs ever heard in his life. His cock stirs, springing up again as he goes back to giving you your first and forever the most slobberiest head of your life.
After a while he beckons you from below, âHey, angel,â he calls.
âMm,â you respond lightly. Youâre nearly blissed out. Heâs going to make you come.
âI think those girls were right.â
Your eyes become so cute yet so sadâ you just want him on you again. âWhat do you mean?â
âYou are sweet. Sweetest thing Iâve ever had in my life.â
âOh,â you whisper, moaning again as he goes back to licking your clit. âOh. Fuck.â
He starts licking and kissing your puffy lips, making wet sounds with his tongue, slurping little bits of you where he can. He loves how slick and noisy your pretty pussy is. Your clit throbs and he hums into it all dark and grumbled and husky going, âMmmmmm.â
You tell him, âGod, itâs so good, Daryl.â To which he responds, referring to a different it, âAnd itâs mine.â
Oh, so heâs cocky now? Well, thatâs new for him. You lay back at the thought, at the feeling, reveling in delight.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Does anyone like The Bear or The Punisher? And if so, if I wrote for Carmy and Frank would you read it? Iâve already started writing some things so Iâm most likely going to do it anyway but I was just curious hehe âĄđâĄ
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
Screwed Up and Brilliant by @writella - Negan is ready for you. Daryl isnât; and maybe heâll never be. Negan makes that clear to you tonight.
Smarty Pants by @lanadelnegan - Negan shows his appreciation after you explain how to make a bullet.
Let it Snow by @nesillia - Day 4 of the Christmas advent
The Christmas Party by @bring-forth-his-sac - Your first year at Alexandria High is going smoothly, until you accidentally offer to plan the staff Christmas party. To make matters worse? Youâre stuck planning it with the one person you made a terrible first impression on; Negan.
Unspoken Desires by @loves4yukio - You consistently rejected Neganâs romantic advances because you didnât wish to become another one of his conquests. You avoid him as much as you could, but things became more intricate when he revealed his sole interest in you and no one else.
Fuckinâ Favorite by @writella - Whose the fairest of them all? Itâs you. Itâs always been you. Neganâs prepared to let each one of his wives know just that tonight. â or: Oh Lord, does Negan love his fuckinâ favorite wife!
The Fine Line by @janiehellion - Heâs everything you should fear, yet somehow everything you crave. One night. One decision. And no turning back.
Easy Access by @bunnysbrainrot - After becoming one of Neganâs wives, you soon come to find out exactly why he prefers you all in dresses. One day, when Negan instructs you to wear less than normal, you discover something that riles him up more than anything.
âAll that tough talking you were doing and now look at yaâ by @daryl-dixon-daydreams
lanadelnegan is a fav of mine! idk if Iâve read that one yet but good choice! I canât wait to check out the others soon! Thank you again for including me. đ
The Confession by @writella - Confessions shared with the wrong person gone so sinfully right. (Rick Grimes x Reader)
Meet Cute by @lamentationsofalonelypotato - Reader is surviving in the apocalypse alone, until she meets a stranger who needs her help, even if he doesn't want to admit it. This is a reimagining of when Daryl gets hurt trying to find Sophia in Season 2, in which the reader shoots Daryl instead of Andrea. This can be read as stand alone, but can also be read as a prequel fic to "Your Fault," describing how reader and Daryl met for the first time. (Daryl Dixon x Female!Reader)
Your Fault by @lamentationsofalonelypotato - Reader is pregnant and suffering from morning sickness, only to be comforted by Daryl. (Daryl Dixon x Female!Reader)
Shout by @blackleatherjacketz - Youâve been with Shane since he left Rickâs group in Season 2, and you need to seek shelter from the rain. (Shane Walsh)
His Games: A Prequel by @foreverlilaclies (Sharick)
pls the emojis are sending me hahahah! let me know how you like it!
Thinking of Negan who daydreams about the reader who always has the cutest outfits when she comes to visitâ âĄ
cw: negan x fem!reader, smutâ masturbation (m) and descriptive allusions to sexual situations, very desperate and depraved Negan because he is in jail, and reader being cute and nice and just too irresistible :) + I wrote this with a little bit of Neganâs crude humor in mind. wc: 2.1k. slightly proofread.
Negan never thought he would stoop so low.
Not like some 20 year old guy living in his momâs basement; the type heâd talk shit to then completely demolish on a game; one who drinks monsters and watches porn on the daily back in the old B.W. (Before Walkersâ for those of you who are uncultured) era.
That was beneath him.
If he needed it, there was his wife of course, or some chic he could hook up with at the bar, butâ letâs not remind him of that. That is a wound that needs no further reopening. He was ashamed of it and everything else heâs done enough as it is. Not to mention, it sure doesnât help that he was reminded of every single heinous act he has ever committed in the A.W. years by the grand total 5 patrons that have visited his cell every- single-god-damn- day.
But now, there was a new thing to cause him great shame.
A girl.
You.
You who gives him his meals on FridaysâGabrielâs day off. You who just canât help but stay 5, 10, sometimes even 30 minutes after you give him his food because he always makes you laugh. You, one of the townâs gardeners, who throws in fresh strawberries during breakfast and an extra cob of corn during dinner when you know you shouldnât. You who didnât eat your cookie from Carolâs monthly batch she brought from the Kingdom because you gave it to him instead. You with your three sets of overalls and far too many sundresses, yet you only had one sunhat, one pair of gardening gloves, and one pair of waterproof boots.
You were way too generous with him and a little too passionate about your clothing to the point he thinks you must forget youâre living in the zombie apocalypse, but you were skilled, kind-hearted, and you liked to smile; you actually had conversations with him instead of that kumbaya shit Gabrielâs always on; and heâd be damned say you werenât really pretty. Because you are. Youâre real fuckinâ pretty.
And Negan was obsessed.
He thought about you constantly.
Like how he knew you must have always picked off the strawberries stems for him before you put them on his plate. And how he definitely knew you must have offered to give him his lunch and dinners on Fridays: He remembers that Gabriel told him that this would only be a morning thing, that the council advised him to have one day off because he was a new father. But, as dutiful as he is (and as weary as he was to bring someone else around Negan), he agreed only to breakfast. That way, he could sleep in, eat with Rosita and the kids, and not feel like he completely burdened someone else with a responsibility that was only meant to be his. Negan figured you were just that kind, that you must have been the one to offer up your Friday mornings to Gabriel. How you must have been the one to ask to come back two more times throughout the day, you must have. For Gabriel, of course, to help. But maybe you just liked him. He liked imagining that. In fact, he believed it.
He also liked to imagine that maybe you were dressing up for him. He sure loved your little outfits. Your overalls were your work clothes but still, you always looked so darn cute, always finding small ways to accessorize or make it feel more like your personality. It was all so innocent really, but he couldnât help but find it incredibly sexyâ how pretty and oblivious you were to how you looked, how your clothes fit you. He often daydreamed of fucking you in every single one.
The first, the overalls you wore most often for work, was full length and completely baggy on youâ he figured it must have been for a man. It was old, the hem was fraying in some areas, and it did nothing for your figure really but it was soft, durable, had many pockets and you typically put scraps of ribbon or lace you found on the straps, right on the shoulder. And his favorite part, you were often wearing a crop top with it. He could always see the side of your breast, your waist, sometimes even a tiny bit more depending on how you turned. Sometimes he thought of you in that tight little floral tank of yours. How one day maybe heâd tell you to, âtake it off,â and youâd obediently drop the overalls to the floor; or maybe it would be you, while youâre on your way out: you turn around, gathering up enough courage after all this time to look him in the eye as you take off your boots and unclip the straps and let the denim fall, leaving you in only that tank and your panties. He imagines how youâd push yourself into the corner where the door was, look out the small window to see if anyone was coming, and then youâd face him again, keeping eye contact as you slipped your fingers inside your underwear and started to rub your clit, fast. Wordlessly, his jumpsuit would come off too and his hand would go straight to pumping his cock. Mesmerized by the sight of you being so unlike yourself because you wanted him just that bad, so bad neither you, nor he, could speak. Only pants and moans and grunts and âfucks,â to be heard in the room.
The second and the third was an overall dress and one with shorts. The first time you wore the dress, he remembers it was a Friday that a lot of people had left town. Unfortunately a kid got lost so many people went out to search with the family. Thankfully for Negan though, this included Gabriel, Michonne, and the two other people who tended towards Negan. Gabriel had assigned you to keep a closer watch on him that day, that the days like this where the regular schedule is thrown off is the time he might try somethingâ Gabriel is still angry at himself for the time Negan escapedâ so you took it upon yourself to bring an activity: cards. After you won a second time, Negan had playfully thrown his cards on the floor, two of them slipping past the bars and past you. You had turned to see where they went and reached forward on your knees, arm extending to get them. You werenât directly turned but Negan sure did take the small chance he got to move more towards his right and catch a closer glimpse of your exposed thighs and color of your underwear. After you left that day he imagined that right at that moment he grabs you by the hips, pushed your ass up against the bars and pushed your panties down so he could slide into you, fucking you through the bars as much as he could, probably giving the bottom of your ass red marks every time he bangs into you against the steel.
With the shorts, he thought of scenarios more or less the same as with your full length ones. The difference is that your ass looked great in those shorts and sometimes he imagined you pushing your back against the cell bars so he could push his front against it, giving him some friction. Him telling you that itâs been years, but youâre shy and scared and you donât want to get caught so you just do that, allow him to rub against you as you look out the window to make sure no one is coming. He imagines that you can't help but start sighing, squeezing your thighs together, moaning when he wraps his arms around your waist through the bars. One hand snaking up to grope your breast while the other cups your mound over your overalls and you rock into his hand as he presses in on you hard. You almost lose your breath, taking a sharp inhale that freezes to a halt. Finally, you'd whisper, âThat feels so good,â followed by a whine. And heâd respond to you in your ear, âI know, baby.â A big wet spot is slowly appearing on your jeans and youâre not even looking out the window, your eyes are rolling back until they closed and youâre just making these tiny pathetic sounds because you canât believe how incredible his touch is, even when youâre given so little, and how bad youâve wanted him even though youâve tried to deny it. âNo one else makes me feel like this,â youâd tell him, to which he repeats, deep, dark, and sultry as he kisses the back of your head, âI know, baby. I know.â
Lastly, there were those sundresses. Sometimes heâd see you in them when you brought him dinner. If you could, you would freshen up before your own dinner because you got off from work early and didnât want to be in your work clothes anymore or maybe you were having dinner with friends or Gabriel and Rositaâ he often treated you because of your care for Negan on Fridays. Most people liked to pretend Negan doesn't exist, or unsolicitedly proclaimed to you and Gabriel with disgust how they would never dare go anywhere near the jailhouse, that you two must be saints, so he finds what youâre doing to be a big sacrifice. Therefore, he often invites you for meals and he and Rosita are either on the look out or ask savangers to bring back any dresses in your size. But it was a time that Negan least expected to see you that he saw you in what became his favorite dress.
It was on a Wednesday. Certainly after 12am or close to it. People were asleep, but you were sneaking towards his cell. Apparently someone from work had ground some chocolate from her wife that worked as a savager. She gave you a few pieces but you never ate them and forgot about them until you were doing some late night cleaning on your day off, so you came to treat Negan. The dress you were wearing was the tiniest thing heâd seen you in. As in, it could have been a mid-length dress on Judith. It was a deep pink color, almost purple, with small flowers in a different shade of the same family all around it. It had these very short, very slightly puffed sleeves. He could tell that it was a dress that flowed out, but that didnât stop the material from showing your curves. He knew for a fact that if you bent over you would be giving anyone behind you a show, but honestly with how much your legs were exposed, you walking around in that must have been enough to make anyoneâs head turn. Immediately he started thinking about him outside of this cell, as your man, seeing you strut around town in it, how heâd push you to the side behind a house, ask you if you wore it for him, if you were trying to make him jealous, and then fuck you hard. Then he remembers that youâre offering him chocolate, and saying that you know you shouldnât be here, so he saves those thoughts for after you leave. You start tugging on your dress, trying to make it longer and he thanks you. Truly, that was your house dress. It was always a little snug on the top so you could never wear a bra with it regardless and you had accidently washed in your sink with hot waterâ you had a knack for not reading clothing labelsâ and it shrank. You only remember how short it is now after not wearing it outside for so long and seeing how Neganâs eyes widened at you as you came in. Did you do it on purpose? you both now question. You decide it doesnât matter, telling yourself you were just doing something nice and you run off to bed quickly. As for him, he cares as much as he doesnât: of course he wants you to like him and he still has a big ego enough to assume you do, especially after tonight, but most importantly you just gave him more fuel for his imagination while heâs stuck here which is enough for now.
After fucking himself when you left, he still woke up rock hard the next morning. Waking up late, he had to act quick before Gabriel came with his breakfast. He used one of his favorite methods of pushing his bed to the side, and placing himself in the darkest corner of his cell, his figure facing the wall. Heâd take himself out and as always, start to pump. He places his hand on the wall for leverage and he pretends heâs fucking you against the wall. He imagines that one night you say you canât sleep and ask if you can sleep with him in his bed. How he would be such a gentleman and say that a lady wasnât good enough to sleep in his crappy cell, but that instead he knew another way to tire you out. One the two of you could do fast so you wouldnât get caught. That one always got him to his climax so fastâ the thought of you needing him so much that you would come inside his cell, stay on his bed until morning, get in trouble for him. It would make him come like a bullet, hard and fast.
Is there anyway you could do a pervy!daryl or stepdad!daryl x reader?? or maybe a pervy!negan or stepdad!negan x reader??
đđđ
Hi and thank you!!!! Iâll do some perv!daryl headcanons for now. And if youâd like me to do negan, just ask again, but also read this Negan headcanon I wrote because I think it also gives âpervyâ vibes since heâs daydreaming about the reader.
Here are some perv!daryl + weird boyfriend!daryl headcanons:
- Okay, so to start, I believe Daryl is more of a freak in his mind than in realityâ there are some things heâd only ever do or reveal once he felt very comfortable and accepted in his relationship.
- This is because heâs a late bloomer and it takes him a long time to open upâ we all know this.
- But itâs also because he would always be very concerned with treating you right; trying to be very gentle and caring even though heâs extremely awkward, doesnât know his strength, and doesnât see himself as a gentleman type like his friends, etc, etc⊠so heâs always trying to be good to/for you, but here are some things he would do if he 100% acted on the weirder parts of his mind:
-If this is before you started dating, everything would be very secret, with lots of daydreaming:
- Listening in while you masturbate when you think youâre home alone, of course; Stealing panties from your drawers or laundry bag, of course; Smelling them or going in the closet to smell the center of your jeans to see if your scent is there too, of course... basic stuff.
- Moving on, the first time youâre on the back of his bike, he tells you that itâs dangerous if you donât hold on tight and lean into him, so youâre basically squeezing his waist with your core riding up on his lower back and ass, and he always tells you to move in more from time to time so he can feel the friction of you moving against himâ even if just for a moment.
- He always wondered if it made you wet, and it did, but youâd never tell him. You thought you were the freak for thinking that while he was just trying to make sure youâre safe.
- Sometimes, when you have to go on his bike again, youâd do a little prayer, hoping it wouldnât happen this time, and sometimes it doesnât, but most of the time, it always does.
- And while you would go to the bathroom as soon as you got home to clean yourself and try not to think about it because Daryl was just the nice man who brought you home to Alexandria just a few months ago, he was jacking off in his room trying to remember exactly how your front felt against his back as if it were still happening.
- If you were dating someone else, heâd silently hate them and just daydream of you coming to him at night and telling him that they canât satisfy you, and he fucks the daylights out of you instead.
- He also loves daydreaming about you needing to sleep next to him one night for whatever reason and he either hears you have a sex dream he needs to alleviate, or you are asking him to hold you because itâs cold and you keep moving and it just ends with you having sex, or him waking up to you stroking his dick through his pants and that ends with you bouncing on him, or youâre cuddling while sleeping in what he imagines and calls your âgirlyâ pajamas, and he slides his thigh in between and out of nowhere you start grinding on it. Literally, anything that has to do with you looking all clean and cute and fucking in bed is all he thinks about when heâs either going to sleep or waking up in the morning.
- He also fantasizes about eating you out on your period. Heâs never done it before and wants to so bad.
- One time you wrote him a letter to say thank you for bringing you here and giving you a home, saying how âI owe everything to you and if you ever need me, Iâll always be there for you,â and of course that became one of his favorite things to read to masturbate.
- Also, if you liked women as well, I think he would just be into the fact that you like pussy or that youâve eaten pussy before, and the thought makes him super hard.
- He imagines heâd have a threesome with you and a woman but only if you really wanted to. Heâd most likely just ended up pleasing you though. Thatâs really all he wants, to see you satisfied, thatâs the part of the fantasy that really gets him off, seeing you happy and seeing a part of your true self he hasnât seen before.
- Now, after you two start dating:
- Daryl would ask you not to flush the toilet after you go to the bathroom just because he wants to smell itâ he never tells you that part, though. He finds all your smells extremely intoxicating for some reason.
- Youâre always just confused, but youâve come to terms with the fact that you have a weird boyfriend. I mean, he showers weekly, not dailyâ he only does so daily when you tell him to, especially if he plans on sleeping in your bed that nightâ he collects random rocks and knows the names for all of them, has random animal teeth in his pocket, barley talks, is a starer, one time wore walker ears around his neck like a chain, and can shoot any animal, or person, if he needed to, straight in the head at nearly any distance. He could be quite unsettling to many people. You loved him though. And so did Rick and everyone in the group.
- But thank goodness they didnât know some of the other things he does when alone.
- Like there was one time he just randomly sniffed your armpit, like a long ass inhale, during sex and you didnât get why but you were too in the moment to question it. You just started laughing and then he started fucking you harder until you shut up because he got embarrassed.
- He really wants to do it again though, he just hasnât yet. But heâs thought about it. More than once. He liked the smell. A lot.
- He also asked you to ride his arm (think of it as an alternative version of this story) because he knows a lot of people in town say he has nice arms and looks very strong so he feels confident about them and thinks you wetting his arm up with your slick is hot.
- Daryl somehow always knows when it's that time of the month. It honestly scares you how accurate he is. Again, another thing youâve just decided to accept about your weird boyfriend.
- Heâs always asking how your cramps are because if theyâre bad heâs taking you to the bedroom and fucking you, and most importantly, eating you out.
- The first time it happens youâre absolutely shocked. Having sex on your period is one thing, but oral sex? You never knew someone could be into that, to desire the taste of your literal period blood, but hereâs Daryl being as slobbery as ever, and even more of a mad dog honestly than when youâre not on your period.
- But there was something about him doing it, the way it happened so fast, how horny he was, that was just so fucking hot you simply couldnât stop him when he took off your panties and dived in. You were so surprised by his forwardness and thatâs another reason you could not resist him.
- You were moaning so loud; he had never heard you like that, but it just came over you and it made his confidence sky rocket. You didnât even hear when Rick came in downstairs in the middle of itâŠ.. you were so embarrassed later, but it was one of the best heads Daryl had ever given you. That man was hungry for it.
- You told him it was very good and that you liked it, but youâve never asked him to do it. At this point, you just always know itâs going to happen at least once when your period comes, and you just get secretly excited about it. Youâll never let him know. You want him to think heâs the weird one but in truth, you dream about any time heâs done it when heâs gone on a trip and he is just happy he finally gets to do what he always fantasized about and you didnât think he was strange for it.
- One of the first times you had sex, Daryl pushed your panties to the side and fucked you while you were still wearing them. It was one of his favorites that he liked smelling from your drawer before you dated so he asked if he could keep them now and you were almost speechless as to whyâ especially because itâs hard to find good pairs in the post-apocalypseâ but you just said yes because the sex was good, and because again, he was your weird boyfriend and you secretly liked that about him.
- Sometimes heâd put them back on you to fuck you the way he did the first time.
- If you think about it too hard it kind of grosses you out because you could only imagine how dirty they areâ you knew he he probably never cleaned themâ so you just try not to and just focus on the fact that stoic and grumpy mister Daryl is unabashedly grunting and groaning on top of you just how you like.
- Daryl hardly does his laundryâ Carol is very kind, only because theyâre best friends, and still helps him out with it when he actually gets around to wanting to clean it or doesnât want to bother you that dayâ but one time he tells you heâs doing it and wants to help you out with yours. Once again, you are shocked, but you happily give it to himâ one less chore for you so you take it.
- Little do you know heâs obviously sniffing all your panties and specifically looking for the ones that might be a little hard at the center so he can suck on them.
- God! These things are so much easier to do now that youâre a couple. He loves it. đ
- Alt!timelineâ If you were dating Rick instead of Daryl:
- Obviously, heâd like to listen in on Rick fucking you, making love to you, anything.
- And maybe he even kind of like and was turned on by the fact that it was Rick fucking you specifically. Something about it made him jealous in a way that he secretly liked. But he keeps that in the back of his mind and just focuses on your voice.
I know this is probably nothing to some of you but Iâm Darylâs good girl! Iâm Lana Del Rey Ocean Blvd era! I canât believe I thought of some of these. I feel like the girl in my last fic who felt dirty calling him daddy⊠excuse the crashout. :â)
Iâve been on 10x01 for MONTHS đ but this also means I live in a world where I donât know who Leah is yet. Based on things Iâve seen on tumblr this is a good thingâŠ?
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Synopsis: âWhenâs it gonna be my turn? Open me up, tell me you like it, fuck me to death, love me until I love myselfââ This is a story about the inner struggles of a desiring Daryl who just wants to be free of the perceptions the town, and his own mind, have put on him, so he can love you and love himself, in the ways heâs always wanted to.
âor: As Daryl becomes the talk of the town, insecurity sets in that hinders him from having sex with youâ the thing you most want to do.
Details: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader, ambiguous age gap, mixing early seasonsâ + later seasonsâ personality of Daryl, the town being mean but also thinking Darylâs hot because he is, discussions of gossiping, insecurity, and poor self-image, Daryl fights someone :), and smutâ unprotected + heâs nervous but then it gets good, and itâs their/Darylâs/your first time in whatever way you want it to be.
A/N: Heâs literally me (Iâm a girl).
â With love from writella. âĄ
There it was. You finally said it. You told Daryl that you were ready to have sex.
When you told him, the two of you were having a quiet morning and he was about to leave. Pulling yourself up to his height, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and he took you by the waist, one hand reached up to hold your head, rubbing his thumb there. Good, you had thought, heâs reciprocating. That let you know he was okay, but still, underneath, you knew he was embarrassed about last night. You werenât going to bring it up though, not then. You wanted to move forward, to show him that you didnât care. âDaryl,â you started, words slow, uneasy in voice but sure in intention, as you whispered to him from above his shoulder, âI just wanted to tell youâ thatâ I feel like Iâm ready.â You paused for a moment. âAnd whatever you feel, Iâm okay with it. Just talk to me.â As silence ensued, you kissed him on the cheek, âI love you,â you said, and pulled back.
Daryl kept his hands in yours as he looked at you. His features were sad and soft as much as they were unreadable. He kissed you on the forehead. âI love you too,â he saidâ it wasnât the first time you two had exchanged those wordsâ and then he left. Just like that.
You had no expectation for how he would react. You only knew he wouldnât give you a flat-out no, so this, was understandable. But still, there was something hollow about it, even if his kiss and words were tender. It was another relationship moment that reminded you that these things never happen as they do in fairytale romances.
You see, you had always pictured him or whoever you were with at the time, bringing you close, kissing you, their fingers trailing down and under the hem of your skirt or pants, asking you if you were ready, if you were sure, if you wanted them to go slow, slower, but Darylâ as it turnsâwas incredibly pure, or at least pretending to be. Either too nervous or sensitive about these things, possibly inexperienced, or much more innocent with his intentions than you ever expected. Itâs like you knew Daryl like the back of your hand, but when it came to anything about you as a couple, his history, who heâs dated beforeâ you were clueless. You didnât know what it could be.
One thing you did suspect, although Daryl has never told you, is that he thought of you as precious, something to be delicate with, like a flower. Sometimes youâd tell him he didnât have to be so slow or soft when you were kissingâ he was always a little sloppy anywayâ and whenever there was a task to get done youâd be the first to tell anyone you could do it yourself, he knew this about you. And itâs not like he babies you or anything, that was never his way. Like when you two were fighting walkers, or doing work around the communities, or when heâs teaching you how to do something. Youâve even told him that he could be a bit demanding sometimes, grouchy, rough, and he agreedâ that was true. He didnât do it on purpose, the whole being hard on you thing. But alone? When he was on top of you or you over him? Waking up to you? Feeling your hand reach for his own in the dark? Even just eating dinner with you? The guy was a mess! A little boy, even. Heart racing. Eyes averted at times.
Whenever he nipped you, on the lips, or the neck, maybe he pushed you on the bed too hard, grabbed your waist too tight that it squeezed the bone, there were always silent apologizes of gentle circles, sweet kisses, and tongue licks to soothe the pain or possible bruises he left on you. And sometimes, when youâre home alone or you shower together, and he starts to kiss you or pull you in by the waist, he almost always sets out with the intention that this time heâd finally do itâ the sex thingâ he always wanted to. Only if you knew! Honestly, heâd feel like such a pervert if he let you know how many times, both before and after you got together, that heâs thought of being inside you, or you on your knees for him, or him kissing up your thighs and tasting youâ he genuinely thinks heâd really like it, all of it, but especially that. But every time youâve kissed and kissed enough, heâd get too overwhelmed about how to proceed or too nervous to even try. He tells you that you two should shower or go to bed or that he has to go for whatever reason. So all youâve done is grind on each other, a lot, but thatâs about it. You know heâs gotten hard and youâve gotten wet, but youâre not sure if heâs ever noticed. He wants to put his hands in your pants, he wants to rip your blouse, he wants to squeeze your tits and slap your ass, but every time he thinks about actually doing it, he feels it's too forward or raunchy, or maybe it's not actually like him in the way heâs pictured in his head, or maybe youâd hate it, and specifically the way he did it. And he has thought about doing it slowly, romantically, but every time he thinks about doing that, he feels stupid, thinking heâll come off as clumsy and pathetic to you. He doesnât exactly get the concept of slow and sexy yetâ reaching up, breathing you in, letting his fingers linger, or hands caress and massage. Itâs not that he couldnât do it though, or so he thinks, if he really tries; it's that doesnât even think heâs sexy to begin with.
The only thing Daryl knows for sure are the things people call him when they think heâs not listening.
âDeep and⊠grunty,â one much too young girl said to her equally young friend who giggled, indicating her agreement even if she was too afraid to verbalize it. âI just like his voice,â the first girl said, âitâs sexy.â Or, âWild,â as one of Aaronâs friends whispered to him, âLike he could throw me around, do it in front of the whole town, and wouldnât care who saw.â To which Aaron scoffed and replied, âThatâs literally my fucking friend.â But in truth, itâs not like he hadnât thought about it himself, how Daryl looked underneath his vest and button-downsâ it was just once though!â he promises!â as if he needed to explain it to himself. He even told his husband about it; they had agreed on Darylâs attractiveness. Eric called it ârugged,â and they laughed about it over dinner. Now, Aaron would repeat that word as he overheard another group of ladies discussing ways to describe or trademark some of the male leaders in town. As Aaron passed by, ârugged,â was his suggested alternative to the word âbeastâ when one older lady described Daryl, in a way that would make anyone not a part of the conversation cringe, âBeast, sexy armed beast.â But Aaron was only met with silence and weird hums until a girl replied that âsexy armed rugged,â doesnât make any sense. To that, all the ladies agreed. As Aaron walked away, wanting nothing more with this kind of conversation about his friends, he caught the new suggestion: âDaddy,â a girl had said with the widest smile on her faceâ she wasnât a teenager, but it was obviously her first time being vocal about these things. She must have felt she said something so salacious. And as much as Aaron wanted to gag, there was also a part of him that reluctantly stopped himself from laughing and blushing with the rest of the woman. One of them rolled her eyes saying, âThey canât all be daddy,â to which another girl said, âBut they kind of are!â and then he was too far away to hear anymore.
Daryl didnât get any of it.
The only ones that truly bothered him though were when they added, âI know heâs a little ugly but,â or âI know heâs not my type but,â or âI know he looks a little dirty but,â âAnd he never does his hair but,â âAnd heâs not like the smartest but,â but, but, butâ
It all made him feel bad about himself; more confused.
Even when it was just generally flattering, he found it hard to take any of it as a compliment. Sometimes he would, maybe the whispers of him being âkinda hot,â on the days when heâd return to his cut-off sleeved shirts, or maybe those moments when a lady would be talking to her friend saying how heâs âhandsome,â or how she just knows âheâs packingâbigââ and whatâs better than a big dick, right? At least that is what Daryl thoughtâ it's the bit of Merle in himâ and he bets Negan wished he had oneâ Daryl was pretty sure Neganâs is a tiny little bitch just like his personality. No one gets to kill one of his best friends and gets more than a three-incher. Right, J.C.? If youâre even up there? Not that Daryl would mind if you were or werenât, or cares if you did, he wouldnât mindâ Daryl didnât think about religion that much anymore. And on that note, he realizes that he doesnât do a lot of the same things he used to anymore. Like the way he would walk around without a care, even confidently sometimes, not thinking about how much he swung his arms or the way he talked or the way his hair fell that day. There was this one time, as he was walking over to Rick in the garden, telling him he couldnât find whatever particular tools Rick wanted, he yelled, âThey ainât there no more, Rick!â that he heard some older guy say to his friend that Daryl sounded like a âhuman gremlin,â to which the friend tried to one-up him by saying, âmore like a garbage disposal.â Then another day, some girl said he looks like a âwet rat sometimes,â especially when his hair is flat or, as said in the phrase, wet; and he never forgot it, either of them or anything anyone has ever said about him. Itâs always been like this. Even when he was a kid.
Daryl tries to remember that people have just gotten too comfortable now that Alexandria is back on track, at least thatâs basically what you had said. One day, Daryl came into your room, huffing and throwing himself on your desk chair, saying, âSome people donât know how to keep their mouths shut.â To which you had asked him what was wrong, but he shook his head.
âWell,â you begin, responding to his un-answer, âsome gossip is misogynized. It used to be a way for women to spread information, butââ you avoid the lectureâ âI get what you mean.â You look at him, seeing the way his eyes still drift. âI canât tell you everything, but Rosita and I had heard some people speculate on the whole her and Saddiq and Gabriel thing.â You shook your head, your eyes rolling a little, âIt made her upset. I could tell. But it took her a while to talk about it. I think some people forget they can talk behind closed doors now. Our porches arenât as private as they used to be, and people have gotten mean.â To that, you both nodded in agreement and then you climbed toward the edge of your bed to hold his hand. Something was obviously wrong. âHas anyone said anything about you?â
Again, he shakes his head and you have to leave it at thatâ all he wanted to do was ask questions about you now, and he wouldnât let you change the subject.
But at home, alone, he stares at the mirror, trying to see what other people see: handsome, rugged, possibly wild⊠but all he saw were things he didnât l understand, things that made him feel he wasnât good enough. Did they really think he was attractive? And if so, why did they always have to bring up that there was something completely unattractive about him before the compliment? And why were those remarks always easier to believe? Or was it all just some weird fantasy they felt dirty about having? And was being rude behind his back was some sort of justification for it? Was it all of them above? Most importantly, did you think any of this?
Next Saturday, a week after you told him you were ready, the town gathered in the church during the evening for the monthly communal meal. This was something that started during the rehabilitation of Alexandria, another thing that the population was getting too big to contain, but Rick and Judith liked it. So, Michonne agreed to keep itâ for nowâ despite reasoning that âthis is what holidays are for, Rick.â
It was about an hour in, 6pm and sunset now past. Some people who had been busy working were still filing in, little by little, but for the most part, a majority of citizens were seated, eating, and chatting. There was a steady rain outside that made everything smell fresh, and if it wasnât for all the chatter, you could even possibly hear the light drumming on the church walls. Everyone was quite pleased about it, spring seemed to be coming early.
Daryl had not come to see you last night and left early this morning so you didnât know where he went or what he did, but what you did know for certain is that he never carried an umbrella. Therefore, when he finally arrived, 30 minutes later, his hair was soaked, and since he didnât even wear his jacket, the long sleeves of his shirt were drenched with water droplets sticking to his vest and shoes that sloshed and left wet footprints on the wooden floor.
Obvious to say, he was noticed by all.
There is a fine line with Daryl between not giving a fuck about how he was perceived, and caring far too much while not willing to do anything about it, and of course, with all that has happened in the past few weeks, it was the ladder. He hated being the center of attention, but it was hard for him to not be noticeable, it never was, especially now. He felt ridiculous.
As he walks onto the stageâ where all the tables of food are placedâ you follow him.
âHi,â you say next to him.
âHi,â he replies, calling you by your nickname kindly enough, but not ever looking at you.
âYou know, I think Rick was hoping you were coming back on time. I donât know why he put all that stuff on his chair if it wasnât for you or Michonne and Michonne sat with me.â
He simply nods, humming as acknowledgment.
âDaryl,â you move to the other side of the table as he gathers his food so he can look at you. Quietly you say, âWe donât have to talk about it now, butâ I hope I didnât make you feel uncomfortable the other day. Or if it was about the night before, you just have to tell me.â You poke his shoulder, âYouâre acting weird and you know it.â
âYou didnât make me uncomfortable,â is all he grumbles.
âBut I still want to say Iâm sorry if I did.â
Daryl quickly finds some napkins to dry his hands and wrists with and comes over to place them on the sides of your head to kiss you there. âYou ainât got anything to be sorry about. Alright? Iâm fine.â His hands drop and holds you by the neck for a moment, the movement makes some water droplets bleed onto your clothes, you feel it but you say nothing. The only thing Daryl notices from you is that your eyes look almost identical to his despite the differing colorâ his mood is affecting yours, but he doesnât know what to say right now to make you feel better so he opts for something he always know is true, âYouâre perfect. You know that right?â And Iâm just fuckinâ weirdo, he wants to add, but he doesnât.
You were smiling at him. He doesnât get it. He looked like an idiot all soaking wet and you were smiling at him. There couldnât be a better reaction, but still, itâs moments like this where he canât believe youâre real. All you say is âOkay,â never taking a compliment, just like him, instead of finding a way to break-up with him like he always nearly suspects. âCome to me when you finish, alright? We can leave if you want?â
âAlright,â he responds and you leave him be.
As Daryl goes down the rows of tables picking out what he wants, he heads to the last one. The way the event was set up was that everyone who came early had the opportunity to take a seat at one of the four tables that were placed along each corner of the stage and the rest sat in the pews, but despite the higher vantage point the stage gave, that did not mean Daryl couldnât hear what those around the stage were saying around himâ as always. It must be a hunterâs ear or something.
âBe careful,â a woman says smirking, her eyes gesturing to Daryl. âLetâs hope he doesnât wet us.â The friend in front of her snickers, looking back to see that Daryl is now by the table just above theirs. Whispering, the first woman continues, shaking her head, âI donât know how Rick or the girl put up with it. She just acted like nothing was wrong. Heâs mudding up the whole damn church!â
Daryl keeps his back turned. This ends up being his last straw. âHow about you shut the fuck up,â he mutters.
âExcuse me?â
Louder, facing no one in particular he yells, âWhy does everyone act like I donât got ears?â
You look up, synchronized with everyone in the church and get up with Rick who is already slowly approaching him, but Michonne yanks you down.
âWhat is your problem?â
To that, he turns back to the woman, âHow âbout you say what you said again and stop talking shit under your breath.â
âWhat?â
âI said,â he starts yelling again, âif you got somethinâ to say about me lady, say it to maâ face. Thatâs what I said.â
âHey, whatâs goinâ on?â Rick asks almost warningly, but not before someone yells, âWho the fuck are you talking to, man?â from one of the aisles in the back. It was her husband, now standing from his seat. He and his wife make eye contact, and instantly heâs moving closer.
Daryl walks to the edge of the front stage, barking a quick âmoveâ without any pause and Eugene and Siddiq violently bob their heads and grab their plates as Daryl steps on the table and jumps to the floor.
Rick tries to push him back but itâs no use, Daryl pushes him in return and he and the husband are charging at each other, speaking over each other: âWhat did you say to my wife?â âTold her to shut the fuck up. Thought I said it loud enoughââ âNah, man you were mumblinâ like alwaysââ âOr dâyou need me to say it louder with ma garbage disposal mouth?â Daryl pushes him, âHuh?â âIâm not fighting you, man.â But Daryl persists, getting in the manâs face, their noses almost touching. He whispers, âYou know, maybe your wifeâs got everyoneâs name in her mouth because she donât fuckinâ like you.â The man keeps shaking his head, but Daryl surprises him, he isnât the only one the town gossips about. âSheâs fucking Mark,â he tells him. That was true, and people knew it. âHeâs your friend, ainât he? Maybe thatâs why sheâs alwaysââ But no, not him, her husband did not know, so he punches, straight in the eye. Daryl almost smiles as he takes the next swing.
The two are tussling, but not for long as Rick takes the chance to get Daryl from behind, taking him away with Gabrielâs help. âYou done?â Rick asks as Gabriel holds him on the other side, His grip honestly does nothing though and Daryl shrugs him off. Poor Gabe looks like heâs about to have an aneurysm to see the churchâ practically his churchâ in such disarray.
With that, and with Daryl raging too much to contain, he shrugs Rick off and stomps out.
Michonne finally takes her hand off of your wrist and you make you way to leave too. As you walk, you look back to Rick who is already trying to follow, and wordlessly tell him that itâs your turn now, then, turn to awkwardly dodge the people still standing in the aisle and collect your things to go.
Daryl was not hard to find. It almost made you think he wanted to be found or knew youâd go after himâ heâs being such a child today. Despite the town lights, you hold out your flashlight to find him sits on a tree stump on the edge of town next to one of his favorite trees. The leaves did a terrible job of covering him from anything but you knew he didnât care. It was almost laughable honestly. Still, you take pity, he was yours and you were concerned. âI know you donât care about getting wet,â you say with no malice or disappointment in your voice, âbut all that water in your shoes can cause blisters. You didnât even wear the ones that donât have holes.â
He just shakes his head, as always, and water droplets fall from the tips of his hair.
âRemember when that happened to me and you drained them with needles even though Saddiq told us not to?â
He stares at you, stone-faced for a moment. âYouâre the one who told me to do it.â
âBecause they hurt really bad!â
âYou were being a baby.â
âReally?â You ask ironically. âSo if Iâm the baby why are you acting like one right now? Itâs been raining since morning, Daryl! Not even a jacket? Youâre obviously upset about something but Iâm not going to continue this with you in the rain, looking like a sad, wet puppy.â
He sneered at the comment, wet.
âLetâs just go home, okay? Let me take you.â
âWe donât live together.â
You frown. âDonât be mean, Daryl,â you gently warn. âYou know what I mean.â
You hold your hand out for him, water collecting in your palm as you wait. It was more of a gesture than actual help as you two were still a few feet away from each other. âPlease? You could have already ran away on your bike or gone home and locked your door but you didnât. I donât know whatâs going on but donât act like I donât know you.â
Reluctantly, he gets up, walking to you in almost slow motion. You wish you could call him the drama queen he is right now, but it was time to get out of this rainâ you would hold it in for the time being.
As you enter the small place, you make no conversation. You simply get to work and he doesnât stop you. You take off your rain jacket and boots, then you take off his vest and boots. You drag him to his room and hang up your sweater and take off your jewelry, then you empty his pant pockets. Finally, you hold his hand as he trails behind you and into the bathroom. You unbutton his shirt and unzip his pants and place them all in the hamper. He takes off his underwear and helps you take off your clothes too. When youâre done, you turn on the water and go in, he follows. You bathe and wash his hair in silence. You are tender and gentle, and he knows it, he appreciates it, but his mind is loud, and angry, and he feels so pathetic as you wash him like heâs 5 years old. You turn around to start washing yourself as he takes care of cleaning his legs and lower area. After heâs done, all he can do is look at you, your body, the soft humming you canât help but do when you shower. Itâs exactly as he said, youâre perfect. He wants to bang his head against the wall because of it.
When you two finish, you sit on his bed, wearing one of his white shirts and a pair of boxers, he wears the same except his bottoms are sweatpants. He hates these kinds of casual clothes actually, heâs only okay with wearing it sometimes, but he has nothing else at the moment. All he had to do was give his clothes to Carol to wash, but he didnât. He hasnât really done anything this week.
âMs. Ellen is a bitch.â You finally say, giving him an ice pack for his eye. âAnd so is Mr. Gary and they both have the whiteness names in the world. And theyâre both lazy as fuck and reek of nepotism because they only had one of the biggest houses and biggest egos in Alexandria because they were friends with Deanna and theyâre still bitter that their house being destroyed in the fireâ which I getâ but itâs not okay that she uses her bitterness to talk shit about everyone. And itâs also not okay that you used your anger to fight someone who didnât deserve it. That wasnât like you.â
âMaybe it is. You didnât always know me.â
âWell, sure, can act like a toughââ
âI donât act like anythingââ
âFine, Iâll change it: Can you be a tough guy? Yeah. But do you pick fights and make big scenes in front of the kids like that? No, you donât.â You stare at him, tapping him on the knee and forcing him to look at you. âYou not talking is obviously not working, Daryl. Just tell me whatâs wrong.â
He takes a moment. âI justââ
âWhat?â
âI donât want to disappoint you,â he finally says lowly.
âI donât think you could,â you answer, âIâm not even now, Iâm just frustrated. Or confused really. Why do you think you would?â
He lowers his ice pack, âCause Iâm not fuckinâ Rick.â
You laugh a little. âWell, I did have my suspicions, but great, thatâs good to know. Iâm glad youâre not fucking Rick.â
He sucks his teeth. âBe serious.â
âHave you not realized Iâve been trying to be? For weeks now? It obviously doesnât work.â Both of you look down as you continue, âAnd I finally tell you how I feel and what I want and you just leave and barely talk to me for the rest of the week. And before you even mention coming into my bed at night or saying goodnight or good morning to me and telling me what youâll do that day, thatâs not talking, it's just saying stuff. At some point I canât always chalk it up to Oh, thatâs just Daryl; at some point, a person starts thinking that they're the problem. That Iâm the problem! That Iâm not good enough.â
A tear falls down your cheek involuntarily, then another; you were clenching your jaw after you finished speaking but it was no use. After everything, all the bullshit and the girls and the punch to his eye that really fucking hurt even though it was his fault he got it, this is actually the worst thing that has happened to Daryl in the past monthsâ making you cry.
âYouâre more than good enough,â he says in his mumble, still not looking at you. âIâm just stupid.â
âYouâre not stupid!â You yell frustratingly as you wipe tears away. âStop talking down about yourself!â
Daryl looks off into the window. He wants to speak, he does. The words are all on the tip of his tongue but they cannot come out, they never do. As he watches you wipe away your last tears, he thinks everyone is right, that that guy is right, he has a garbage mouth, his voice is poison. He never makes any sense and he always says the wrong thing. Why speak anyway?
âI canât help you or at least try to understand if you donât say anything. I know it's hardâ I donât like doing it either. I was scared to tell you what I did last week. But it just starts with one thing.â
âIt's too hard to.â
âBut Iâve never judged you, right? â
He shakes his head. You havenât.
âThe first thing that comes to your mind when I say, âwhatâs wrong?â, what is it? Just say it. I donât care what it is. Iâm not going to judge you, Iâm not going to say youâre wrong, anythingââ
âPeople think Iâm ugly,â he interrupts, âIâve heard them say it.â
Your eyes widen, in shock for him and in shock that people could still care about such stupid things right now. âWho said that to you?â
He shakes his head. âThatâs why I mentioned Rick. No one says stuff like that about Rick.â
âWell, I donât want you to be like Rick and you donât have to be.â
âThatâs not the point.â
âThen what is?â
He gestures to himself, slapping his hands on his thighs, âLook at me.â
Thereâs something about the way his hand then reaches to cover his eyes in frustration, the way he slides it down to scratch his beard, accidentally magnifying to you the wisps of salt and pepper among the brown that gives you a clue to what he means. âIâm not some little girl, and I havenât been for a long time.â
âI know, but youâre not my age either. And I donât always think about you when it comes to it, itâs about me- I think about me.â
âSo what about it? When it comes to the hair on your head and your eyes and the way you talkâ that has nothing to do with how old you are, thatâs just who you are. You didnât choose to look as you do. And you and Rick have always looked the same age if I have to mention him, and his beard is whiter than yours at this point. Neither of you look old, or bad.â Your words do nothing so far. âYou also have a better build than plenty of people in town. Youâre stronger too.â
âBut when they talk about Rick, all they say is that he talks too much and that heâs bossy and hardass and at least thatâs true.â
You couldnât help but smile, almost laughing a bit at that. It kind of was true.
âIâve never heard anyone say things about him the way they say about me. Never anything about how he looks. But when they talk about meâ they think Iâm a fuckinâ animal.â There is silence after this. The word wild lingers in his mind and animal in yours. Again you want to ask, who could say that and have they not realized all Daryl has done for this place? Then, the more you listen, the more you realize that hidden beneath those with endless respect are some with hearts of cruelty and minds stuck in the regular old world ways that donât exist anymore. âAnd sometimes, when I think about why you like me, I think that maybe itâs despite other things.â
âDespite?â
âDespite.â He practically spits.
âWe all have bad qualities though. Weâre not perfect.â
âI mean that Iâm not some regular good looking guy.â
âWhy would I want regular?â Your smile fades as his sad eyes persist. âDaryl, I canât change your mind or make you feel the way I do about you, but why canât you trust that I like you, and that I want to be around you? And that Iâm,â you blush, âvery attracted to you and Iâve felt like an embarrassing teenage girl the past few months waiting and trying to get you to have sex with me!â Quietly you say, âHave you not realized how much I really want you? How much I care? Everyday I feel lucky.â
He canât take it. âGuess itâs like you saidâ canât believe it if I donât see it myself.â
His mouth is screwed shut, his throat tight, but just like you, itâs no use, a tear rolls down his cheek. Immediately you hug him. He holds you tightly in return and even though it makes your ribs hurt a little, you let him. All of this makes you see how much you two are alike than youâve ever realized.
âYou know,â you say into his hair, âthere was this one time, I was up super early and couldnât go back to sleep so I went out for a walk. I passed by Oliviaâs house and she waved me over from her window and asked me if I could help her restock the pantry before Rick came later in the day to check it because she had this huge migraine. Well, that turned into me doing the whole thing for her. She said she was going inside for a break and some water and the next thing I know sheâs asleep on her couch! And you know how her niece lives with her? I guess she runs in the morning and while I was finishing up, her and her friend lean up against one of the garage doors and I hear them talking. I was just about to open the door to leave but then she says, âSheâs sweet but kind of a kiss-ass, right? Like a try-hard?â And then her friend goes, âYeah, she really wants to be one of them,â âBut all she is, is just Darylâs little girlfriend.ââ Daryl lets go to face you, his eyes incredulous just as yours were when he said someone called him ugly. âAnd then they started saying how I insert myself into places or something, so thought if I came out right then and they see me having done Oliviaâs job for her⊠I didn't want them to get an up-close look of them being right. So I waited until they went in the house and then I left and for the whole rest of the week I was upset because I thought I was becoming friends with those girls but really I wasnât, and I questioned if Rick and Michonne or Rosita or Glenn and Maggie even thought of me as a friend because they actually like me or if Iâm even good enough to be one or if itâs only because Iâm associated to you that they care to talk to me. I felt pathetic too.â You pause. âSo, Iâm really sorry, Daryl. You donât deserve to feel like youâre being picked on in the town you live inâ in the place you helped create.â
âIt ainât your fault.â
âThat doesnât make a difference. I should have said something.â
âYou didnât have to. I wanted that to happen.â
âBut I wish I knew. Cause I would have if I knew. I feel like I let Michonne stop me because I didnât understand. And all Iâm saying is whether I've had it as bad as you or not, I do get it. And Iâm angry for you. And you donât have to be embarrassed to tell me things like this. It was dumb of me to keep my feelings in, just like you do with everything.â
Daryl swipes his hair to the side, parts of it are dry and waving while other areas are still wet, making him think about the rat joke. âNo one likes you because of me,â he says. âYouâre likable because youâre you and you care. And fuck those dumb-ass girls. Theyâre idiots for saying that.â He rubs your thigh. âI didnât say anything the other day because when we were in the shower the night before I,â God, he feels stupid, âI got hard and you saw it and I realized it was the first time you saw it like that before and, I donât know, I got scared.â
âDid you think that Iâd think youâre ugly?â
âI donât know.â
âDaryl,â you tisk, âafter the amount of times weâve showered together already?â
He gets defensive, âI donât know! Felt different.â
âPeople usually get excited to know their partner is excited because of them.â
âI just feel like youâre gonna be disappointed.â
âWhy do you always think that? I donât have any expectations. I just want you to show me you love me.â You begin to look nervous, âI want to feel wanted too.â
âBut I do⊠I do want you.â
âThen show me.â
âI donât know how.â
You try to think, âDarylâ what is it that you picture when- when you want to do it?â
âI picture you,â he says simply.
âYou do?â Your face is immediately warm.
He laughs, âOf course I do.â
âWell what do I do? Or what do you do to me?â
âDepends.â
âPick one,â you say, almost desperately.
âSometimes it just starts with what we always do. Kissinâ. Maybe youâre on top of me.â
You waste no time; you get on top of him.
âAnd I press you down.â Darylâs hands are now heavy on your hips, your hands are on his chest, you rock into him slowly.
âAnd sometimes I think about you bouncing on me or-â he pauses, the way you rock and the way he pushes up to you hitting a perfect spot of friction that makes the both of you gasp.
âSay it,â you tell him.
âIâm fucking you from behind. Or you're on the bottom and Iâm going hard or being all gentle and shit like you but I donât know how.â
âYou know we can do all that, right?â
Daryl is red. Both you and him are surprised at yourself, but his bashfulness almost brings it out of you naturally. And honestly, your jacked and grumpy dilf boyfriend has left you repressed for far too longâ youâre horny.
Suddenly, you move yourself onto one of his thighs and start palming his bulge as you rock. âDo I do this in your dreams?â
He almost groans, âNow you do.â
You move yourself from his thigh and lay down to start kissing him. He reciprocates, grabbing your face and pulling you close. Daryl starts nipping at your neck and you try your hardest not to yelp so he wonât stop. As you two continue, your slick starts to wet his boxers and you press your legs together as he gets harder under his sweatpants.
âHave you ever noticed how wet I get when we kiss?â
âOnly at night,â itâs hard for his words to come out as you continue palming him, âwhen you donât have clothes on.â
âAnd you never did anything about it?â You whine. âDo you know how bad I need you? How much I think about you?â
âI think about you more.â
âYou do?
âYes.â Daryl swallows, whimpering a little. You now stroke him, his dick riding up against his thigh, and it feels too good. âWhat- What do I do in your dreams?â
âYou lay me on the bed and put your dick in me and fuck me and it feels amazing,â you say between hot breaths. âAnd youâre not scared to do it.â
âI wanna do it.â
âSo, please, Daryl, do it. I want it so bad.â
Daryl uses your words as courage. He takes you off of him and goes over you.
You both take off your shirts and he strips you from his boxers and him from his sweatpants.
Finally, without regret or without him turning away you see his cock stand. Itâs proud, meaty, and you canât lie, a little scary, but youâll never tell him, even if your widening eyes give you away. Itâll fit, you assure yourself. You wonât be afraid.
âYou okay?â He asks, timidity setting in again.
But you nod assuredly. âYes.â
âAre you sure?â
You pout, heâs stalling. âWhen you look at me, what do you see?â
âBeautiful.â
âAnd you're handsome. No pretenses. No exceptions.â You come up on your knees to face him, kissing his lips softly. âItâs like we said, weâve dreamed about this.â
You lay down again, and Daryl places his hands on your inner thighs to spread them, making space for himself. You watch as takes hold of himself, mouth agape and pumping himself a few times as he stares at your body before slowly entering you. Your pussy is drooling at the sight.
Your eyes instantly close and scrunch. Although it worries Daryl, heâs glad youâve shut them so he can continue looking up and downâ up at your face to see if youâre in pain and down as he watches his cock enter you for the first time. You were incredibly tight to him, tighter than he ever imagined, he wasnât used to this feeling and he liked it, a lot. It made his stomach clench and all his muscles flex as his breathing gets heavier, trying to stop the possibility of him moaning at the sight of it all.
âAre you okay?â
It was big and there was something about it that felt good but it hurt, the stretch indescribable, but you nod and tell him, âI like it,â because that was true, and everything else felt like too much to explain right now, your thoughts almost dissipating.
âYou sure?â
You just nod again, whining.
âAlright,â he says, putting his hands on the bed to start.
Once more your eyes screw shut. He almost takes himself out before he pushes back into you again. He doesnât know if he went slow enough but he tried. Your eyes wrinkling because of how hard you closed them doesnât help though. He wants to tell you to relax but heâs not even relaxed himself to even make it sound believable.
He tries again, not going so far out this time and slowly goes back in to the hilt again, so slowly in fact he thinks that must have been awkward for you. He stops, tries one more time, then stops again. Your sounds seem like youâre hurt. He knows youâll say itâs just pain and adjustment to his size but he instantly perceives it as disgust. He knows itâs not, but he canât help it, he canât. He must be âtoo muchâ; âtoo big,â thatâs what it is. Those are things he has heard in porn tapes Merle used to give him or things he noticed in porno mags he maybe used to read that he had found in a store near Hershelâs farm all those years ago, and supposedly it was a good thing for it to be too much, but now, look at you: you were in pain. And it was taking everything in him not to ram into you. He felt pathetic, again. Stupid, again. Like he didnât know what he was doing. Maybe he should just withdraw right now, clean you up, try to give you a sympathetic look through his hair that said he was sorry for defiling you and not even make you feel an ounce of pleasure in the process. Everyone was right, he is a joke.
âDaryl,â you say, looking up at him, âyou donât have to keep stopping for me. I just need to relax and you just need to be slow. I think I can take it.â
âI know,â he responds, kissing your forehead.
âClose your eyes,â you tell him. âDo what feels right to you. You have to trust me to tell you if it hurts or not.â
He almost laughs at that. You think heâs so strong; that he has all the power. Itâs so strange to him.
Daryl puts his head in the crux of your neck, closes his eyes, and tries again. He holds your waist, thumb on your ribs and the other fingers on your back as he pushes his hips into you.
You hug his chest and feel all of it. âMake yourself feel good Daryl, itâs gonna feel so good to me if you do that, I promise.â After his 4th small pump you let out a whiny moan of relief. âOh- okay- keep going.â
Daryl moves his elbows to the bed by your head and starts pushing his hips against you, finding a rough yet steady rhythm. He loves the slapping sound your bodies are making and canât help but speed up. He goes deeper and you start moaning. He already feels heâs losing himself. He tries to kiss you to slow down, but realizes he canât plow into you the same way he just found out he likes. He goes back to it and he starts grunting and groaningâ there is a part of him that is embarrassed by it but it just feels so good. âAre you gonna come?â He asks between sharp thrusts.
âDonât focus on that,â you tell him. âStay like this. Please.â
You didnât have to tell him twice, he really canât think of anything anymore than continuing to pump himself in you so he does. You try your best to rock up into him, but he has full control, his hands on your hips still as tight as ever as he pushes into you, making you and the bed bounce at his mercy.
Youâre more than fine with it all. Even better, you couldnât believe this meant that Daryl was about to come inside you. Something in you knew it was about to happen. It was the way he placed his elbows by your head and started cursing and ramming into you harder and even whimpered in your ear and gave you these little puppy kisses there before getting back to it. You were surprised by how noisy he was but you didnât dare say a word other than panting and whining back into him so heâd continue, even in moments when it felt too much and too hard. He was forgetting all his doubts and that was the goal right now. You lock your legs around his hips and tell him, âYou feel amazing inside me. My handsome man,â and that does it, âOh, fuck,â he says as he releases every last drop of himself inside you.
Now, as he slows down, he looks at you, thumb on your bottom lip and chin as he tries his best to keep rolling his hips on you as he comes down from his high, but you ask, âWill you kiss me down there, Daryl? Iâve always wanted that.â
âYou donât want me to make you come?â
âI think itâll happen if you do it like that. I just want to know what it feels like.â
He stops for a moment deciding if this means heâs failed or not, but he simply says, âOkay,â all kindly and nodding like it was your idea even though it was because this means another one of his dreams were coming true.
Instantly, heâs licking you, feeling more assured of what he could doâ this was one of his most vivid fantasies so even though he doesnât know for sure, he thinks heâs got.
âOh, oh my god,â his tongue is bringing up wetness to your clit and sucking on it, âthatâs good.â He starts licking your clit, going fast, âDaryl, thatâs so good.â
He looks up at you, dazed already, âYeah?â
âOh, yes.â You fix his hair and he loves the feeling. Truly, he was going a little too fast actually, going up and down and this way and that way too much, but the sounds his mouth and your pussy were making together were too glorious. You let him go, you let him be proud, and either way, youâre whining and moaning because of it. Heâs perfectly imperfect and he doesnât even know it. But youâre too in love with the feeling of him to explain what that means right now so all you say is what he told you about yourself in the church, âI think youâre just perfect.â
To that, he stops again and he looks up at you, smiling. Itâs one of those rare ones he seldom does, teeth and all, and your slick coating his lips all the while. His eyes are shining, and he gives you the smallest, sweetest, most innocent kiss to the most obscene place on your bodyâ your clit.
At this point all your sounds have been short, quiet, filled with whines but to this, you moan at the sight, full and loud. Itâs involuntary. Itâs pornographic. Itâs the hottest thing heâs ever heard in his life. His cock stirs, springing up again as he goes back to giving you your first and forever the most slobberiest head of your life.
After a while he beckons you from below, âHey, angel,â he calls.
âMm,â you respond lightly. Youâre nearly blissed out. Heâs going to make you come.
âI think those girls were right.â
Your eyes become so cute yet so sadâ you just want him on you again. âWhat do you mean?â
âYou are sweet. Sweetest thing Iâve ever had in my life.â
âOh,â you whisper, moaning again as he goes back to licking your clit. âOh. Fuck.â
He starts licking and kissing your puffy lips, making wet sounds with his tongue, slurping little bits of you where he can. He loves how slick and noisy your pretty pussy is. Your clit throbs and he hums into it all dark and grumbled and husky going, âMmmmmm.â
You tell him, âGod, itâs so good, Daryl.â To which he responds, referring to a different it, âAnd itâs mine.â
Oh, so heâs cocky now? Well, thatâs new for him. You lay back at the thought, at the feeling, reveling in delight.