dilfsandmartinis - Tumblr blog

[dilfsandmartinis]

gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams

Rick: Why is Y/N crying?

Carol: She’s drunk.

Rick: And?

Carol: She saw a picture of Daryl's wife.

Rick: But she’s Daryl's wife.

Carol: I know.

Rick: Where’s Daryl?

Carol: She kicked him out for cheating.

Carol, whispering: He went hunting.

[dilfsandmartinis]

surrogate comfort

summary. daryl comes to your home, finding peace between your legs before you relieve his homeward bound struggles

warnings. smut (just a little fem!reader receiving oral), angst, mentions and descriptions of abuse, commitment, young!daryl

MINORS DNI (18+), I DO NOT CONTROL YOUR CONSUMPTION ON THIS BLOG 👻

divider credits. @cafekitsune

An undeniable sensation pooled in the apex below your abdomen, causing your eyelids to flutter slowly open from your slumber. Your brows drew firmly together as your mouth gaped wildly open, releasing silent sounds of pleasured expression. But you were forced by the consuming reality in your brain to push the face that rested against your thighs, and the heavenly lips that had already landscaped the area of your cunt in prior situations.

Daryl hadn’t fallen asleep beside you, he had sullenly returned to his poisonous putridity of his home the eve before, dreading his father’s exploitive rage. As much as you wanted to continue receiving the fantastic oral that he was perfectly tainting your body with, you were commended by your saint lifestyle to shuffle away, rejecting his efforts of keeping his face attached to your most intimate area.

“D.” You addressed him by the initial, reaching beside you to pull at the dangling string of your bedside lamp so that the bulb would create an ambience that would aid your eyesight, rather than squinting in his direction through the consuming darkness. Daryl melted his face in the tousled sheets that rested raggedly beside your legs, chewing anxiously on his bottom lip.

He just wanted to see you, and get lost in one of his all time hobbies so that he wouldn’t need to bring acknowledgment to the repetitive reason as to why he had snuck in your home with the key that you had gifted him in the dead of night. “Daryl… look at me honey.” With concern filled empathy, you combed through his brunette locks with your fingers, squeezing your thighs together so that he wouldn’t be able to visualise his sacred escape for the moment.

This was important, far more important than any sexual activity. It took him a couple of minutes to finally build up the strength to comply with your soft demand; you weren’t forcing him, he was well aware of that fact, however he resented skulking away from your embracing and delicate nurturing, and thus he drew his face upwards, his blue and bruised eyes connecting with your orbs that unfortunately did not hold shock.

His father was sadistically cruel, he never let up on a chance to unleash his pent up frustrations and anger out on his sons, it was why Merle had joined the military - to escape the man that had raised them without any aspect of love. It didn’t matter that you were half nude due to his skilful appearance, you shuffled down the bed towards him, crossing your legs as you brushed your fingertips across his shoulder that was clothed in a shirt made of tired fabric, and he restrained a wince.

“Oh honey.” You cooed, seeing a horizon of purples and blues and deepening greys that harshened his features. “You can stay here, for as long as you need. I’d hate for you to keep going back there, so…” You braced yourself to say the words aloud, aware that Daryl was a young man whom was easily shaken. “Why don’t you move in?” You would never hurt him, emotionally or physically, no matter what situation that you found yourselves in.

Your blood boiled like there was a stove interlinking your veins to your arteries as you thought of any man bringing such abuse upon their child, but especially horrid old William and his treatment of Daryl. The bruised son’s lips conveyed his emotions in a wobbling manner, as he allowed his well constructed walls to lower, and water glazed in his eyes. He held you, and sobbed, and sobbed, until he was all out of frustrated tears, and you knew then, he would be using that silver key every day.

[dilfsandmartinis]

sub!daryl headcanons

summary. what it would be like to have a subby daryl at your hands 🥵😭

warnings. smut obviously, hair pulling, aftercare, oral (both male and female receiving), face sitting, unprotected sex, ass slapping, saliva swapping, praising, teasing, finger and nipple sucking, pet names (and a little degradation), fluff

MINORS DNI (18+), I DO NOT CONTROL YOUR CONSUMPTION ON THIS BLOG 👻

divider credits. @cafekitsune

he will literally do whatever you say, he is just pussy whipped and a lil’ obedient when it comes to you. all he wants is for you to praise him and make him feel better, and loved. being the submissive one in the relationship makes him feel so taken care of, and it’s something he’s never had before, and he is so appreciative that you’re willing to be his care and pleasure giver

pulling his hair always has him whining desperately, especially if you’re sat on his cock or stroking it when doing so. it just sparks some kind of feral control over him, and he’ll gasp and groan and beg for more, and it’s an easy way to grasp his attention if he’s distracted by his own thoughts or current ongoings

you’d tease his swollen cock, making the archer buckle beneath you as you hovered above him, as you’d line up his cock with your pussy. to make him even more desperate and more of a whimpering mess, you’d slip just the head in your entrance, pulling it out and sliding it through your folds, repeating the action. he’d be babbling for more, hardly being able to make out words as he’s near tears

he will eat you out for hours, until his jaw is aching and cramping, it is his favourite meal, no matter what mood he’s in. whether he’s feeling submissive or just lost, he sees it as his home. he buries his face in between your legs, desperate to please you, and he’d look up to make sure that he’s doing a good job and pleasing you

when you grab his hips, he feels so small (even if there is a size difference), he’d love it. it makes him feel safe and looked after, and he knows he can rely on you, to not only subside his hunger to feel pleasure, but in general. and he is addictive to seeing whether or not he has bruises on his hips, he loves to press his fingers down on them and feel the ache above his hipbone and remember all of the things that had lead to that. you also pin him down by his hips if he acts up whilst you’re having sex or being gracious enough to give him a blow job; it’s a reminder that you’re in control, and he loves that, especially considering how often he has to take charge out on runs with some of the idiots that have joined your community

it’s dirty, he knows it, but he loves it when you brush your fingers or one of your thumbs against his lips, sliding them in past them and ordering him to suck them. sometimes you’ll push them in farther, forcing him to gag on your fingers and he loves how breathless it makes him, and he can physically feel the tears prick at his eyes

if he’s a good boy, which he tries his best to be, you’ll comb your fingers through he’s hair, whether at the time he’s giving you oral or is laying on your chest after an exhausting session together. he loves to use your tits as a pillow, no big or small they are, and if he’s dazed or just feeling needy, he’ll begin suckling on your nipples, not only because he wants to but he knows that you’ll play with his locks

there are a fair few positions the two of you have tried, but you always end up going back to the same two that make you feel closer. cowgirl is the most often, where he can see your tits bouncing in his face and he can bury it in them, sucking on your tits and drooling from the pleasure, muffling his moans in your womanly globes. reverse cowgirl makes him feel so light headed, where he can see you using his fat cock, and you dig your fingernails into his legs causing him to whimper. if you’re in the missionary position, he’ll chortle in bliss, pounding in you as fast or slow as you want him to

kind of a repeat, but he loves loves loves to be praised, it makes his chest feel full of pride, and his stomach swarm with butterflies. phrases like ‘good boy’ make him feel appreciated and encourages him to keep up his good work. ‘dirty redneck’ is a term you save for when he’s practically salivating and unable to keep his hands from touching you. it makes him even harder than before, and it turns him on when you slap his hands away

bruising kisses that take his breath away are a must, he tries to kiss you more when his eyes closed, and although he should have realised that you’d have pulled away as you often do, he opens his eyes with annoyance, it’s as though sometimes you encourage his brat attitude . and so you bite his lip, nipping at it as though you’re threatening to draw blood

you cherish him all, and if he’s feeling particularly insecure, you’ll show adoration for his entire body, including his scars. you’ll lay him down on the bed, his cock pressing achingly hard into the sheets as you flutter kisses across the permanent lines in his back. whether they’re old or new scars, you’ll show love to them all the same, telling him how beautiful he is and how you are so lucky to ‘have a good boy like him’

it’s a reward, and he knows it. although he can’t help himself from acting like a starved man if you sit on his face, he’ll devour your pussy, wanting to taste you for as long as you allow him to, eyes flittering between your perfectly rested mound and your face, which is either unfocused and thrown back in pleasure as you use him, or glaring with integrity down at him, which would make his cock twitch with anticipation

if he’s feeling a little risky he will begin grabbing your hair, although he knows that he has been taught better by you. he’d earn a slap on the hand, or you’d curl your fingers tightly around his wrist with a vice grip, and he would freeze. and so in response you’d tease his cock and grasp the base of it tightly, causing his breaths to become stuttered

at times when he’s cock is filling you up amidst your instructions, your reach down and fondle his balls, playing with them to cause him to thrust in surprise inside of you. again, it was just another reason for you to scold him, and you’d grasp his ass cheek, slapping it, and although he tells you he despises it his lies slip through as he moans in pleasure

he was is thirsty submissive, and he’ll open his mouth before you’ve even asked him to, awaiting for you to spit in his mouth. and you would, and he’d hold your saliva inside of his mouth until you commanded him to swallow. he’d be on his knees with an open mouth, just patiently waiting because he knows you can’t say no to that particular desire of his

when you’re feeling horny, you’ll take him as you please. you’ll shove him against walls, on the bed, or any surface that will do. you’ll pin him wherever, just so you can feel in control of something. he knows to oblige without refusal then, even if it makes things difficult, such as when you caress his jean clad cock whilst you’re seated behind him on his bike, and he has to pour all of his focus into not veering

caressing his cheek after he’s cum is almost like a ritual, his cheeks are flushed from the heated blood that has become pigmented on his face, as he huffs to catch his breath. he’ll go all dosey, as he leans into your touch, although he always holds off from cumming until you tell him to

he’s a moaner, shattered versions of your name will escape his lips. hell even mumble it when you’re in the shower, the spray of water falling on you both, even if you aren’t having sex in there. you’ll douse him in body wash if you were lucky enough to find some on a run, rubbing his chest and back and removing the sweat that has smothered his body. and you’ll gently clean his cock, causing him to heave out high pitched whimpers from the overstimulation but he loves it

[dilfsandmartinis]

𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐲𝐚 (18+) ‧₊˚ ✧

Summary: Daryl needed some love and you gladly gave it to him. Warnings: TWD violence, gore, blood, character deaths, explicit language, smut (oral f receiving, unprotected p in v, simple aftercare). Not proofread. Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f! reader smut + fluff. Setting: Quarry. A/N: I read a post some time ago that said that Daryl in season 1 just needed some kisses to calm down and I couldn't agree more so I wrote this. It's also my first time trying to write smut, so I am so sorry if this sucks, and I was so hesitant to post it so please be nice lol. 😞

“Ha-ha, funny girl,” T-Dog deadpanned, rolling his eyes and suppressing a genuine laugh. It was the third bad joke you told in a row, and he was starting to find them funny.

“I really am,” you replied breathlessly, finally able to catch your breath after cackling at your joke.

“Okay, Eddie Murphy,” T-Dog, added jokingly, making you giggle as he placed a bunch of firewood you'd been helping him split for the past 40 minutes. “Let's head back.”

“I just thought of another one!” You exclaimed as you walked next to him. His groan of annoyance made you laugh before you even told the joke. “What do you call a fish with no eyes?”

“I. Don't. Know.”

“A fsh,” you replied after a dramatic pause, hardly able to contain your laugh as he gave you a side-eye, pressing his lips together to hold a smile back. “Please, I-” you started, but interrupted yourself as a commotion reached your ears from the camp. You recognized Daryl's voice.

Sharing a confused look with T, you both picked up the pace, coming into view with what seemed like a heated discussion between Daryl, Shane, and Rick, the man who joined the camp yesterday. You felt a little annoyed that they ignored T-Dog's request to let him tell Daryl, but oh well.

“Rick Grimes,” he introduced himself to Daryl.

“Rick Grimes,” Daryl mocked him, “y' got somethin' you wanna tell me?”

“Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof hooked into a piece of metal,” Rick stated, apparently with confidence. “He's still there.”

You stayed in place, watching as T-Dog slowly took a few steps closer to the scene.

Daryl hummed as he turned around, pacing shortly before he spoke, “Le' me process this,” said he while turning to face Rick again, clearly growing irritated. “Ya' sayin' you handcuffed ma brother to a roof, and you left 'im there!” His veins popped as his voice got raspier as he yelled at the other man.

Rick gulped before admitting. “Yeah.”

Suddenly, Daryl tossed the squirrels he was carrying toward Rick, the latter swiftly dodging them before Shane jumped into action, tackling Daryl to the ground. Next, he pulled a knife from its holster, swinging it at the former cops, but being stopped in a matter of seconds.

In the blink of an eye, Shane put Daryl in a chokehold, while Rick snatched the weapon out of his hand. “Ya best let me go!” warned Daryl, struggling in Shane's grip as the cop brought him to the ground. You walked closer toward Carol as your eyes remained on the scene, but decided to walk to the other side as you noticed Ed was next to her.

“I think it's better if we don't,” Shane replied, almost mockingly.

“Chockehold's illegal,” Daryl added, face red from the struggle.

“'Kay, file a complaint,” If this situation was not so tense, you would've laughed. You did a little on the inside. Rick kneeled in front of the restrained man as Shane spoke again. “C'mon, man, can keep this up all day.”

“I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic. You think we can manage that?” Rick spoke, trying to find Daryl's eyes. “You think we can manage that?” the cop repeated when no answer was obtained.

Panting and growling, Daryl grunted in agreement, finally getting Shane to release him; more aggressively than he should, if they asked you. Sitting up quickly, Daryl pointed at Shane warningly. Rick continued: “What I did was not on a whim,” he explained. “Your brother does not work and play well with others.”

“It's not Rick's fault,” T-Dog spoke up, his leg bouncing anxiously as he confessed. “I had the key. I dropped it.”

“Couldn't pick it up?” Daryl retorted. His voice was calmer, but you recognized in his stormy eyes a hint of grief. Nobody else cared about his brother when his brother was everything he had. You couldn't imagine how terrible this situation was for him.

“Well, I dropped it in a drain.”

Dropping his head, Daryl slowly got up, gathering his composure again. Anger returned to his expression as he walked past T-dog, “'f it's s'posed ta make me feel better, it don't,” glaring daggers at the 'culprit.'

“Maybe this will,” T went on to say, “I chained the door to the roof so the geeks couldn't get at him... with the padlock”

“It's gotta count for something,” Rick piped in.

Drying a tear as soon as it came, Daryl took a deep breath. “Hell with all y'all!” he screamed. “Jus' tell me where he is, so's I can go get 'im.”

“He'll show you,” Lori stated, staring into her husband's eyes. “Ain't that right?” Rick's eyes left his wife's after a few seconds, finding T-Dog's shortly before nodding.

“I'm going back,” he declared, almost solemnly, hands on his hips as his eyes met Daryl's again. The younger Dixon clenched his jaw before walking past everyone to get his crossbow and stomping to his tent.

You didn't notice you went behind him until Dale stopped you by grabbing your wrist. “What are you doing, honey?” the older man questioned. He'd always been kind and sweet to you, so you gently released yourself from his grip.

“He's upset,” you explained, and he seemed to understand as he nodded reluctantly, but understandingly. On your way, you grabbed your half-full water bottle, and slowly approached the edge of the camp, where the tent of the Dixon's was.

You found Daryl sitting on the chair outside his tent, shoulders hunched forward, fists clenched with anger as if grasping the last shreds of control. His head bowed low and his eyes were shut tight. You caught the way his body shook softly with quiet sobs. You stilled, not daring to interrupt this stolen vulnerable moment.

After another minute, he abruptly stood up, drying his tears before cursing loudly while kicking the chair he was sitting in. You were suddenly hesitant to approach him and decided to turn around and leave, but before you took one step, his voice reached your ears.

“Whaddaya doin' here?”

You took a deep breath before turning back around and walking up to him, your water bottle hanging from your hand. “I- uhm, I just wanted to say I'm sorry about Merle, and-”

“Ya don' even like 'im,” he snapped defensively.

“No, I don't,” you confirmed, “but I like you, and he's your brother. Even if my brother would annoy the shit out of me before, I loved him, and... I'm sorry you're going through this, Daryl,” you took a few steps closer, eyes on the ground as you spoke before meeting his.

His gaze remained on yours, before studying your face, finding nothing but the truth.

He frowned deeper, angrily huffing out a breath before turning away from you to rant. “He's jus' so fuckin' stupid. Nobody can fuckin' stand him an' he can't keep 'is fuckin' mouth shut!” he yelled, pacing from left to right, hands dancing through the air practically independently, punctuating his words.

“Why he gotta be such a fuckin' pain in the ass? Not even when we gotta surv-” mid-sentence, your hands found his cheeks, and with utter sweetness your lips impulsively found his, silencing his words.

He stilled, hands slowly dropping to his sides, body completely tense.

You quickly pulled away, opening your eyes to find his eyes slightly wide and totally confused. Your hands left his face and you took a step back. Your eyes awkwardly looking anywhere but at him. “Fuck, Daryl, I'm so sorry,” you started, a knot of anxiety growing in your chest. “I don't know why I did that... well, I know why, 'cause I like you, but I shouldn't have, I'm- I'm so sorry, really.”

Your rambling was interrupted by his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to connect his lips with yours. This time he was more relaxed, and the kiss was slower. His hands slid down to gently grab your hips, pressing his body to yours.

Your arms snaked around his neck, dropping your water bottle, and allowing your lips to part when his tongue requested entrance. Exploring the taste of each other, time stilled for a moment, but you loved it. The kiss grew almost desperate and the grip on your hips got stronger.

Unhappy to pull away, but needing to do so to breathe, you found yourself gasping as his lips left yours. You smiled brightly, cheeks rosy, and he smirked while dipping his head. “Also, I brought you water,” you added, grabbing the bottle from the ground, and dusting off the little dirt that stuck to its side before handing it to him.

“Thanks,” he nodded, taking it from your hands before opening it, downing the liquid, and emptying the bottle.

“You're gonna find him,” you reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder and a quick kiss on his cheek. He smiled and nodded once again, muttering a thank you. You sounded pretty confident as if you knew, which gave him the confidence when he left on the search for his brother later that day.

Everybody screamed as they tried to avoid or fight the walkers emerging from the thick forest. The evening that started so peacefully suddenly turned into the perfect scene of a terrifying horror movie.

Things moved fast and slow at the same time. It was a blur. Tunnel vision, solely focused on surviving and protecting your group, moving on automatic pilot as you dug your machete countless times into the head of those flesh-hungry monsters.

You didn't even notice when it ended, barely feeling a pair of strong hands gripping your shoulders. His voice sounded distant asking if you were okay over and over. But you couldn't answer, you weren't sure if you were okay, the adrenaline didn't let you feel your body.

His loud voice calling your name finally snapped you out of your trance. “What?” You asked, brows knitting in confusion.

“Were ya bitten? Are ya alright?” Daryl questioned, nealy manhandling you as he searched and scanned for bites or scratches on your neck, lifting the sleeves of your flannel to make sure the skin of your arms was intanct.

“I didn't get bit or anything,” you shook your head, still a bit gone.

Cupping your face to study your eyes, he quickly pulled you into his arms, and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. You felt finally safe now. You wrapped your arms around his torso, closing your eyes and hiding your face in his neck.

After everyone agreed to get some rest and leave the cleaning for the morning, Daryl offered to stay in your tent with you that night.

He helped you into your pajamas, and you cuddled for a bit as he told you what happened in Atlanta. Then you simply lay in silence. You played with his fingers and he watched you adoringly, rubbing soothing circles on your back with his free hand.

You looked up to find his eyes on yours. Gently he cupped your chin, leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss. Your hand went up to cup half of his face, returning the kiss with equal passion. It was almost needy but slow. It was like he needed the confirmation that you were both here and okay.

Tongues met in a slow dance, and his hands reached down to cup your ass, easily moving you to lay on top of him. You couldn't help but moan as your body completely pressed against his, but it also made you want to feel more.

His hands slid under your shirt, and you broke the kiss in need of oxygen, immediately latching your lips onto his neck, sucking and kissing. He hummed in satisfaction, which was all the confirmation you needed to keep going, but he stopped after a few moments, pulling his hands out of your shirt, and cupping your face again for you to look at him.

“You sure 'bout this?” he asked, his face stern as he waited for your answer.

You nodded hastily, licking your lips. “Yeah. Are you?”

“'M sure,” he said without hesitation, pulling you onto his lap so you could straddle him. “Need ta feel ya,” he whispered in a husky voice, sending a shiver down your spine as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a passionate kiss.

His hands caressed the dip of your waist up and down under your shirt as you made out. You buckled your hips up unintentionally but did it again on purpose when you heard him moan into your mouth.

You were straight-up grinding into his hips before he pulled away from your mouth, “not yet, doll,” he whispered as he took your shirt off. His hands went to your breasts like magnets, kneading and massaging the curves shamelessly as he peppered your neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses that trailed down to pop a tit inside his mouth.

Your clothed cunt clenched on air, as you closed your eyes and moaned, enjoying the attention, and you could feel his excitement tenting in his pants as well.

He slowly shifted the position, you back now on the mattress. After he decided both tits had been given enough attention, albeit still reluctant, his mouth trailed lower and lower, hands smoothly pulling your shorts and panties at the same time as his tongue and mouth kissed and licked the skin of your stomach.

His eyes met yours as he kissed your thighs, silently asking for permission to go further. “Please,” you whispered, surprising yourself by how needy you sounded, but then again, you did feel like you needed him right now.

He wasted no time, and in less than a second his mouth was latched to your clit. Tongue swirling on it and sucking, making you gasp. He used his whole face, pushing himself deeper and moving side to side as his tongue flicked over your sensitive pearl quickly. Hungrily. You arched your back involuntarily, fingers finding his hair to pull while simultaneously pulling him closer.

With a hand on your hip, he sucked a few more times before he licked a strip down to your entrance where his tongue began to fuck you. His thumb replaced his mouth on your clit, rubbing at the same speed as his tongue went in and out of you. You moaned and whimpered and cursed, trying to keep quiet, being apparently unsuccessful.

“Quiet, sunshine,” he whispered, his free hand reaching up to make you suck on two fingers to silence you, and you happily obliged. Your legs wrapped around his head as he continued his ministrations, the familiar knot forming in your stomach.

“Fuck, Daryl, I- wait,” your back arched further, legs pulling him closer, contradicting your plead as he moved faster and faster, changing again to suck on your clit and fuck you with his fingers. He hummed and the vibrations brought you closer. “So close.”

Your pitch was higher and higher, the knot tighter and tighter. All it took was a final, flick and suck of his tongue, feeling him moan against your cunt before pushing you over the edge into a shattering climax. The free hand covered your mouth as the other slowed down, prolonging your pleasure until your body relaxed and you came down from your high.

“Fuck,” you looked at him with hazy eyes.

“Fuck,” he said as a confirmation, looking down to see a damp spot on his sweatpants.

“Come here,” you said, pulling him into a kiss. He gladly kissed you back as you slid your hands under his shirt, trying to pull it up, but he stopped you, grabbing your wrist.

“I-” he started, looking away from your eyes and knawing on his bottom lip. “I have- I....”

“You don't have to take it off, it's okay.”

“No, I wan' ta, jus'” he sighed, slowly taking the shirt off. He was thankful his back was away from you. At least you wouldn't have to see those yet. “My dad... was a drunk,” he reached to touch, kind of trying to hide, one of the scars on his shoulders, but you gently pushed his hand away, tracing the scar with your fingertips before looking up at him. You smiled and kissed him shortly, before kissing the scars on his shoulders.

“You're so strong,” you whispered.

His heart was beating fast but in a good way. His lips found yours again as he settled himself between your legs. Your now-familiar mouths found a rhythm as he started to pull his sweatpants and boxers down.

His erection hit your thighs making you pull away. You bit your bottom lip at the sight; he was thick, and the size was a bit on the bigger side. “All for you, baby,” he whispered, as he pumped himself a couple of times.

He rubbed the tip on your clit and entrance, spreading your and his juices all over your cunt again. “Ya ready?” he asked, slapping your cunt with his dick gently. You nodded. “Nah, need ya to speak up.”

“Please, Dar, I'm ready. I need you.”

He hummed in satisfaction, leaning to prop himself up with his forearms around your head, kissing your cheek, before slowly pushing into you. You moaned and he groaned. You were wet and ready enough, so the stretch felt like pure bliss for both of you.

He grabbed both your hands with one of his and pinned them above your head, starting to move when you wrapped your legs around his hips. “Feel so good, doll.”

He started slow, savoring the moment but also nervous to hurt you. But soon, he picked up a rhythm and started moving faster. Your boobs bounced beneath him as he kissed and worshipped your neck and breasts. You felt so deliciously full as he thrust up into your tight, dripping heat, moaning and whimpering underneath him.

He was in heaven, eyes inevitably closed as he made love to you, but he wanted to keep them open to look at you. To him, you looked like a work of art just like that.

“Harder,” you breathed, and he obliged. Your skin met over and over and the sounds filled your tent. He grunted, reaching down to rub on your clit, eliciting a gasp from you. “Oh, right there,” your voice was getting higher, letting him know you were close. “Don't stop, fuck, please, don't stop.”

“I won', baby. I gotcha,” he moaned. His thrusts became more and more urgent, each one hitting that sweet spot that made your body arch and your toes curl. If your hands weren't inside his gasp you'd be grasping the sheet beneath you. With one last flick of your clit, you shattered.

His mouth claimed yours to silence your cries of pleasure. Pure ecstasy filled your body, and prolonging your high, Daryl continued moving inside you, until he, too, reached his peak, quickly pulling out and releasing himself on your stomach.

Spent and breathless, he collapsed next to you, who was in the same state as him. Your body tingled with the remnants of your passion, and you couldn't help the smile on your face as he kissed your face lazily.

Your eyelids were too heavy to notice when he pulled a little rag from somewhere and cleaned you up, then you felt him put your clothes on again, and his too. All too relaxed, you nestled into his embrace as he pulled you into his arms, both falling asleep in a matter of seconds.

[dilfsandmartinis]

“for whom the tongue craves to taste,” [d.d]

“the cdc showers”

a/n: quick disclaimer – this is actually just a snippet of a larger piece that I’m putting together (a smutty 5+1 prompt, five times daryl made you cum, and the one time he let you return the favor) but as it’s my first real attempt at smut, I wanted to post this as a means to garner some constructive criticism before finishing the piece. If you’d be so kind to read and lmk your thoughts/critiques, I’d really appreciate it!

EDIT: I know it’s not how the majority of 5+1 prompts are done, but I’ve decided to post each segment as they are finished. I just think it’s an easier/less stressful method for me, so I hope you guys don’t mind the posting choice. the posts will be linked together for easier access.

the cdc showers – arrow mishaps lead to frisky fun – ever done it in a loft? – cold iron bars – the watchtower – I want a taste, too

c/w: explicit sexual content, cunnilingus, shower cunnilingus, tongue fucking, fingering, language, dirty talk, undisclosed age gap, 18+

word count: 2.4k

that morning, had anyone scooped you off to the side and told you that mere hours after arriving at the pipe-dream that was the CDC you’d be corralled into a hot shower with none other than daryl dixon squished between your thighs, you’d have laughed straight in their face and directed them towards the nearest mental institution – not that that would do anyone much good, given the state of things; but had anyone declared a statement that outrageous, you’d have thought their mind already gone, much like the drooling, shuffling, decaying bodies wandering the earth.

yet here you were, a steady jet of hot water battering the sore muscles of your back, liquor-laden torso slightly slumped, thighs spread open by broad shoulders and daryl dixon’s wicked tongue licking your little cunny straight to nirvana.

how the fuck did you even end up here, anyway?

it was so uncharacteristic of you – you knew next to nothing about daryl dixon. he was simply a mutual stranger. you’d never even had more than a few fleeting conversations with the man, for fuck’s sake; if you could even call them that. daryl was brusque and wholly unapproachable, and his attitude left a lot to be desired. due to his unpleasantness, you’d opted to keep your distance and observe rather than to interact. to be completely honest, you’d been more judgmental rather than observant of the man before, back at the quarry, internally critiquing his sour attitude, accent and frayed clothes; and, shamefully, even at times presuming that he was some forty year old virgin that had been holed up in his mother’s basement before the world went to shit – but, fuck, were you ever wrong.

maybe he was forty, maybe he had been holed up in his mother’s basement, who the fuck knows, but he sure as fuck wasn’t a virgin – at least, his tongue wasn’t. the way he moved it, fucked it into you, made a mess of you with it, there was no way he wasn’t experienced with it.

you let out a loud, trembling gasp when daryl suddenly broke his tender tongue-flicks to slide his teeth gently against your clit before wrapping his lips around it and sucking.

okay, fuck, scratch that. he was experienced with his whole mouth.

unlike the few other men you’d allowed to taste the heaven between your legs, daryl used his entire lower face to devour you – his tongue was the star of the show, of course, but his lips, nose and chin made a hell of a supporting cast. when his tongue was busy fucking your walls, his nose was right against your clit in its place, his head shaking side to side, applying just enough pressure to bring you pleasure but not enough to stimulate you into orgasm; and then, as if he could simply innately sense when you were becoming desperate for more, his tongue would slip from your hole and return to your clit once more, circling and flicking it with expert movements, quickly bringing you right back to that sweet precipice.

how long had he been at it?

the water wasn’t cold yet – or maybe your body was just too hot to register that it was; but with the amount of times that daryl had built then robbed you of your orgasm, you drunkenly surmised that it had to of been a good fifteen minutes. any other man would have tapped out from exhaustion already.

of course, there were times when his tongue would get tired, but even then, unlike your previous lovers, he seemed loathe to leave you without any contact – he would alternate between giving your clit chaste little kisses and moving his lips against your entire cunt as if it were a second mouth that he was intent on claiming; then, when his tongue was rested enough, he would dive right back into devouring you.

it was absolutely wrecking you, in the best and worst ways.

maybe it was simply the affects of the alcohol swimming through your veins that fed you the illusion of this being the best damn head you’d ever received; maybe it was because you certainly didn’t have a lot of other experiences to compare it to; or maybe it was the warmth that came with the comfort of hot water and a full stomach that made it so much better – either way, you were almost at the brink now, again, thighs quaking with the effort of holding your body upright and staving off your impending orgasm; you knew daryl would more than likely take it away if he sensed it, and you weren’t sure if you could handle that.

“oh, god,” you hissed out when daryl flattened his tongue against your clit, flicking it with short, harsh movements, before slipping it down to part your folds and lick up your slit. he transitioned between the repetitive movements at a near imperceptible speed, without ever having to trade out accuracy and rhythm for it. it was a dangerous cocktail of pleasure that had you damn near seeing stars. each harsh swipe of his tongue against your clit sent zips of electricity up your spine, and built a familiar tension within your gut.

“ya like tha’, sweetheart?” daryl parted from your cunt just enough to inquire huskily, his voice so low that you barely even managed to catch it over the volume of the hissing spray. you nearly whined at the loss of his tongue, and, rather than answer his question, which you could hardly even decipher at the moment, you reached a hand down to tangle your fingers into the short hair at his nape, using what leverage you had to push his head forward until the tip of his nose brushed against your sensitive clit once more.

“no, d-don’t – don’t talk…” you slurred out, tugging at his hair insistently and pulling a deep, rumbling chuckle from the man below you.

“some manners you have,” daryl drawled, but to your delight, returned his tongue to your slit, parting your wet folds and slipping it past the rim of your tight entrance. your fingers twitched against his nape as you released a high, airy sigh, and your hips began to move of their own accord, humping your cunt against his face and pulling even more vibrating vocalizations from his throat. you just wanted firmer friction, damn it.

your stomach was stirring, tight, that pressure slowly mounting. it felt fucking good, the way he was thrusting and wiggling his tongue against your gummy walls, fucking you with the thick muscle, his nose bumping into your clit and sending subtle jolts up your spine, and those vibrations and sounds, fuck! – but it just wasn’t enough. you needed something different, something more.

“do… do what you were doing before…” you requested breathlessly, hips trembling, fingers digging into the skin of his nape in desperation. “‘m so close, daryl… just need more.”

the thought of keeping your impending orgasm away from his awareness seemed to have slipped away in the midst of the tremulous pleasure he was bringing you, and maybe you shouldn’t have let the information out, but you were so desperate. your tummy was so fucking tight, that coil winding and winding to a painful climax, and holding it in just seemed impossible, you needed to let it go – and at the moment, the only way you could possibly reach orgasm was through daryl.

daryl flicked his eyes up to meet yours, and though your vision was a bit hazy from the steam and alcohol, you swore the man was smirking up at you from within your cunt. daryl was silent for a moment, all movements against your cunny paused, before he leaned back slightly and said, lowly, “why don’ I do somethin’ better, instead?”

before your drunk, horny, fuddled mind could truly decipher his words daryl was in motion; his warm hand gripped the back of your knee, bending your leg easily and hoisting it atop his shoulder – distantly, you registered a strange sensation against the skin of your calf (was that a shirt? was daryl fully clothed right now?) – and once your leg was stabilized, he skirted the fingers of his other hand up your other leg, the one that was still planted to the floor of the shower.

his fingertips grazed your knee, then the plush flesh of your thigh, before reaching between your hips. you jumped slightly when you felt the pad of his finger run over your slit, the thick digit parting your folds smoothly, the tip dipping ever so subtly into your entrance every so often. like he was testing the waters, or something.

“d-daryl, what are you doing?” you inquired, heart tripping over itself, apprehension twisting in your gut for the first time since he’d invited himself into your shower and initiated this whole thing.

wait, had he invited himself? or did you do that?

you couldn’t remember.

“shh, jus’ trus’ me, sweetheart. This’s gon’ blow yer mind.” daryl responded back, calmly, warm breath fanning over your sensitive clit as he spoke. your breath shuddered in your lungs, but any further objections died in your throat when daryl’s hot tongue met your sex, circling, flicking, flattening, devouring – his pace was much faster and firmer than before, the pleasure much more intense than what had previously been given.

“o-oh, fuck! daryl!” you moaned, your hand sliding up from his nape to the crown of his head, fingers fisting into his hair to hold his head still as you rutted your hips forward to meet his skilled tongue.

“shit, that’s it, baby,” daryl panted, muffled, into the slick heat of your cunt, tongue drawing lazy circles between his words. “jus’ fuckin’ lose it. use my tongue, sweetheart.”

it felt so fucking good. it felt like your cunt was melting right into daryl’s mouth, searing hot and drippy, sloppy, coating his lips, jaws, nose, and neck with copious amounts of your arousal – all the while daryl growled, groaned, and moaned as he slurped it down, as if it was the very nectar of life itself.

your gut felt like it would burst – at any moment, with any flick of his tongue, in time with any of those vibrating groans, you’d be exploding all over daryl’s face, releasing every single ounce of the pent-up arousal daryl had inflicted upon your body over the last fifteen minutes in a single second.

“daryl, daryl, god, yes… fuck, don’t stop… don’t s-stop.”

you continued to repeat those words, falling like a river from your mouth, a mantra that seemed to keep you grounded as daryl’s tongue threatened to send you floating away –

a sound akin to a scream bubbled in your throat when daryl suddenly slipped two of his thick fingers into your cunt; the sensation was far from unpleasant but far too close to overwhelming – and when he began to pump them in time with the flicks of his tongue, and curled them just so on every outward pull, scraping against something at the top of your gummy walls, you simply couldn’t hold it in.

your entire body locked up, muscles freezing as your lips fell open to release mute moans, both hands now swinging down to grip daryl’s hair.

those silent moans you were releasing quickly morphed into loud, wanton, downright sinful vocalizations as daryl pumped his fingers into your cunt, still rubbing that sweet spot, fingerfucking you through your high and bringing stars to your eyes. you pressed daryl’s head impossibly closer to your cunt, humping whatever you could and burying his fingers deeper inside your walls with desperate, short, shaky movements, releasing a litany of his name and curses in between breathy pants and moans.

when the waves of your high had begun to recede, you slowed your hips until they came to a complete stop, your chest heaving from the deep lungfuls of steamy air you pulled in. your body felt incredibly fuzzy, your mind pleasantly foggy; but your body, and everything else, felt too hot, too cramped, too everything, and when daryl decided to give your throbbing, sensitive clit one last tiny flick of his tongue, you damn near smacked him in the head.

if only your arms would move.

a small gasp was pulled from your lips when daryl slipped his fingers from your sloppy cunt, the friction against your sensitive walls almost enough to have your entire body seizing, and it was only when daryl lifted his hands up to grip your wrists were you able to disentangle your fingers from his hair; only with his help, of course.

daryl then grasped the plump flesh of your thigh, the one that was still tossed over his shoulder, and pulled it down slowly, not releasing his hold until your foot was planted firmly on the wet floor of the tub.

when your balance was secured daryl scuttled back from between your legs, and when he’d rose to a standing position, his chest now centimeters from your own (which you distantly realized was bare) you couldn’t help but stumble backwards until your back hit the cold wall. your lids felt incredibly heavy, and exhaustion gnawed insistently at your muscles; but through the fog, you were able to register daryl, who was indeed fully clothed, the fabric of his shirt and jeans soaked and clinging to his body like a second skin – and you were certain that was a smirk on his lips.

a smirk that said he knew he had just blown your mind, even if you would never admit it to him.

it seemed as though your orgasm had sobered you up a bit, because when daryl sidled up to you, right beneath the harsh spray, and placed his large hands on your naked hips, you were able to lift your hands and plant them on his chest. he didn’t attempt to move closer to you, but his hands didn’t fall from your hips either; and when he spoke, his voice was chock-full of cockiness that you found simultaneously alluring and irritating.

“if ya ever want yer mind blown again, ya know where to find me.”

with that, daryl slipped his hands from your hips and turned, ripped open the shower curtain with little effort and then stepped out, as if he hadn’t just performed an intimate act on you. water dripped noisily against the linoleum floor as he stalked away, and, not one to give up the chance at having the last word, you croaked out,

“in your dreams, dixon.”

the only thing you got in reply was a haughty chuckle, echoing into the bathroom from somewhere within the quarters you’d claimed for the night.

[dilfsandmartinis]

honey suckle

summary. daryl gets lost in eating his favourite meal between your legs

warnings. smut, oral (female reader receiving), fingering, squirting, swearing, pet names (babydoll, darlin’), some and implied aftercare

divider credits. @cafekitsune

It was one of those excruciatingly delicious nights when Daryl had returned home from a long run with Aaron, he was ravenous to be as close as possible to you, and so here he was, large hands splayed on your thighs as his head lay between your legs. His hair was tousled to a haphazard degree, the waved brunette locks splaying in every direction as your fingers sunk into their roots, tugging at the strands in your grip, which only egged him further on.

His face was practically buried in your centre, tongue sliding relentlessly through your folds and swirling with educated concentration around your throbbing clit. You were sure his cheeks were smothered in your aroused essence, however you couldn’t see as he didn’t lift his head once, caring not for breath, his only priority was to taste you for as long as you could handle it.

If he had all the options that rotated the planet at his hands, he would never let up, he would die a happy and breathless man from suffocating himself in your addictive cunt. But even then, after he was a corpse from being delirious to be drowned in your sweet juices, you would be angry at him, needing more from his chapped lips and sinful tongue. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” The fall was enclosing at your dispense, your heightened pitch indicated so, as did the clenching of your walls that his tongue thrusted in and out of.

Each of his taste buds were consumed with your aroused honey, and even as you came, he lapped without hesitancy, cleaning up your wetness only to create more to flee from your slick entrance. Your mouth was agape in sensational and pure distress as you thrashed your legs around like a maniac, until you wrapped them around his head, feet locking at the back of his neck.

“Need one more from ya babydoll.” His gruff voice that carried the dry lustre from his smoking habits vibrated against your lower lips, causing you to release an elongated squeal. You weren’t entirely sure if you had one more in you, this felt like it had been going on for hours, and although you were never complain about such circumstances, your body was growing exhausted.

But you would do it for him; one more couldn’t hurt, so as he settled three fingers into your walls, your hips bucked at the intrusion. He’d only been using his tongue the entire time, although it seemed you were drenched enough for them to slide in without much effort, he held them still so that you could adjust to the full feeling, peppering languid and wide kisses against the heated skin of your thighs.

His kisses moved left, closer to your stuffed mound, as he began to rotate his fingers inside of you, twisting his wrist as your eyelashes involuntarily fluttered, and deep mewls of pleasure surpassed from your bitten lips. Until finally, his mouth transcended you to another planet, far beyond the reality that you had harshly adapted to, as his lips suckled around your clit, his fingers scissoring in and out of you.

You were hypnotised in the sensations that were floating from your head to your curling toes, you were starting to feel dizzy, a heavy feeling that left you practically unconscious, as you faded in and out of your surroundings. Even when you opened your eyes, straining them to do so, the bedroom was blurry to your sights, and you bit at the air, failing to warn Daryl of the pressure that was growing by the second.

“Ah fuck.” Daryl groaned as a gushing stream that you hadn’t been aware was on its route to escape from your aching cunt, the liquid bursting in Daryl’s direction and coating his face. However he didn’t let up, even as he removed his fingers, leaving your walls clenching from the empty feeling, as he stroked his tongue in long lines up and down your pussy. “Gotta clean yer up.” He muttered almost to himself, as he dared not waste a drop.

You just laid there, breathless and cross eyed even as he finally removed himself, leaning up to stroke your face. “Yer did real good darlin’, so fucking good for me.” The starving man spoke, licking his lips as he started down into your eyes. He reached down, grasping your hips that had invisibly restrained themselves against the bed, as he picked you up, treating you like porcelain as he carried you in his big arms to the shower. He turned the water on, grasping a cotton rag from the side as he sturdied your weight against his, your back facing his front as he began to clean you up whilst the water was warming up.

[dilfsandmartinis]

you missed training ※∴

— pairing: shane walsh x fem!reader

— type: ficlet

— summary: shane deems it time for you to have some private target practice lessons with him.

— tags: shane has horny thoughts about you, cuddling, shane actually giving a damn

— tw: guns, suicidal ideation, mentions of masturbation, eating

— word count: 4,773

— a/n: i know this fic references some past events between shane & the reader, but this is just one part of a series of posts i plan to write for shane. i do have another post up, which is about shane's "offer" to the reader (taking their virginity).

You shove a clothespin into place before picking up the next item—one of Andrea’s pairs of cargo pants—and jump when you feel a palm against your back, causing you to nearly drop the damp piece of clothing. You clutch it to your chest instead, thankful they won’t need to be rewashed.

You turn to your right where Shane is now standing, palm still firmly in-place against your backside.

“Yes?” You ask as you hang the pants. You then turn fully toward him, causing him to drop his hand.

“You missed training.”

You shrug, bending down to pick up a t-shirt, but he takes it from you, throwing it on the line without clothespins, just to get your attention back on him. “Can you just stop for a minute and look at me?”

You sigh, doing as he’s asked, crossing your arms.

“I asked you to come,” he says, clearly not pleased with you.

“There was work to do.”

He shakes his head, placing his hands on his hips, and you can tell his temper is nearly at its boiling point. Not that it isn't always anymore, it seems.

“That’s always your excuse. For everything. And I’m gettin’ tired of hearin’ it.”

You give him a none-too-pleased look at the attitude now lacing his tone, and go to pick up a pair of clothespins so the shirt can be properly hanged, and not risk being blown away by the wind, but he takes them from you, throwing them back into the basket before grabbing your hand in his and pulling you away from laundry duty.

“Shane-” You start, but he promptly interrupts you.

He turns back to you, your hand still held firmly within his calloused grip. “I am tired of askin’ nicely. This is important, and you’re going to learn whether you like it or not.”

You can feel your face growing warm, your pulse rising. You do not appreciate being made into just one more person he thinks he can boss around as he pleases. “I don’t need lessons.”

He gives you a look which says ‘yeah right’ before releasing your hand and pulling his pistol from its holster. He goes to hand it to you and you take it from him with caution. And don’t you dare think he doesn’t notice the fear with which you handle the weapon with.

“Alright, then. You know everything you need to know, then show me where the safety is.”

You look the sidearm over, looking for the right button, but look up to him in humiliation after a moment. You can’t even find it within yourself to tell him you don’t know.

He crosses his arms. “Show me how to eject the clip, then.”

Once again, you’re not sure which button will do what he’s asked for.

With an exasperated sigh, he takes the gun from you, tucking it back into its holster. “You want to tell me about how you don’t need training again?”

You shift from one foot to the other, refusing to answer.

“Not going to answer me now?”

You look up to him. Into his eyes which are searching yours. You shrug.

Shane hangs his head, shaking it. “Sweetheart, you want to explain to me why you’re so reluctant to learn a new way to defend yourself? A pretty important one?”

You look away from him, to those milling around the camp, talking and laughing amongst themselves. And then you look the other way, to an empty field. Tranquility, solitude. Peace.

“Learning self-defense means that I feel like I still have a life worth defending—worth living. That I feel like I’m worth defending.” You look at him then. “I don’t believe any of that.”

He lets out a low swear. “I thought we were past this.”

“You keep insisting on saving someone who doesn’t want to be saved, Shane. I never asked for you to bring me with you all from the quarry. Never asked for you to drag me out of the CDC. Never asked for you to help me on the highway. I made my choice over and over again and you refuse to accept that.”

He grimaces, his fists tightening at his sides. “Just because you think you’re not worth saving doesn’t mean everybody else has to think that. Because I don’t. Which I’ve proved time and again. You’re-” He rubs his hand over his head, settling it on his hip. “You’re one of the most valuable members of this group. You-”

You interrupt him with a laugh which has no humor behind it. “Valuable? Valuable how, Shane? By doing laundry? By helping make lunch and cleaning out the RV?”

He shakes his head. “It’s more than that and you know it. Just because you don’t see your self-worth doesn’t mean I don’t. Because I do.”

You continue to stare up at him, fighting against the tears threatening to overtake your vision. A tear slips from one of your eyes anyway and he reaches up, gently brushing it away with the pad of his thumb.

“I’m going to keep saving you until one day I don’t have to anymore. Because you’ve finally made the decision to live. So, are we going to go practice? Because if you tell me no, girl, I’ll just keep on your case about it until-”

“Ok.”

He shuts his mouth suddenly, a small grin gracing his lips. “Yeah?”

“I said ok.”

He jerks his head in the direction of the training area they’d set up some ways off from the house and camp. “C’mon then.”

He places his palm against the small of your back again, leading you away from camp.

The Georgia heat could be insufferable some days, but at least today was a bit cooler, even by a few degrees, with a slight breeze. The sun was low enough for the trees behind the training area to be casting long shadows, shielding you from the sun overhead.

Shane leads you over to a bit of fence that has a row of bottles set up beyond it, along with a couple of targets.

“Alright, here.” He stops you in the middle, the targets all directly beyond where you’re standing.

He removes the gun from its holster again. “This is your safety,” he says, flipping a small switch on the side, a red dot now visibile. He looks at you, and you at him. “Red means fire.” He flips the switch back.

“And this is how you release your clip.” He presses a button on the side and the bottom of the pistol comes out, a row of shiny bullets now visible. “It’s fully loaded.”

He pushes the clip back in.

“You know your stance?”

You shake your head, feeling more and more ignorant with every question he asks. You’d never had a reason to learn these things…before.

“I figured as much,” he says with a smile, coming to stand behind you.

He kicks your feet apart with his boot. “Move your right foot forward some—good, like that. Now, turn.” He grips your hips in both of his hands, firmly, turning your body just the least bit toward the fence. Shane then removes his gun from its holster and holds it out in front of you.

You take the grip in your hands, only just now noticing how heavy it is when you try to hold it up.

The barrel droops and he sighs. “Should’ve brought a lighter pistol, that’s my mistake.”

He reaches up, taking both of your hands in his, helping you hold it steady. “Alright, safety off.”

You find the small switch from earlier and push it down, that small red dot now visible.

“Chamber a round by pulling the slide back.”

You at least know that part, so you do as he instructs. “Good.” He presses his front against your backside, his body heat radiating onto you, causing a few small beads of sweat to form on the back of your neck.

“Make sure to keep your back straight, feet apart. And I want you to grip the gun firmly, but let it breathe. And don’t you ever put your finger on that trigger until you’re ready to fire and know what you’re firing at. You understand?”

You nod.

“Alright, close your left eye, find your target, and when you're ready, put your finger on the trigger and squeeze it slowly. Don’t just start firing off rounds at-will.” You hear a smirk in his voice as he continues “We’re saving that for the advanced course.”

“Given I pass this one,” you add, your tone nervous.

“You’ve got Officer Shane Walsh playin’ teacher to you now, darlin’. I’ll give you a pass.” He shrugs. “Once you’ve earned it.”

You don’t dare to think what he said might have some double-meaning to it.

“Alright, sweetheart. Deep breath, then when you’re ready.”

You take a deep breath, slowly let it out, then place your finger over the trigger, his hands still over yours. You squeeze slowly…and miss the bottle you were aiming at entirely.

You nearly curse. “I missed.”

“That was just your first try. You’ll get there.” He readjusts his hands. “We’ve got all day, baby. Just you and me.”

You feel sweat drip down your back. You tell yourself its from the heat. Not his body pressed firmly against yours. Not the pet names slipping so easily from his lips. And certainly not the fact that all of his attention was, at current, focused entirely on you.

He keeps his hands overtop of yours. "Try again, darlin'."

You close one eye, find the bottle you'd aimed at before and fire once again, hitting it this time and shattering it.

You smile. An actual genuine smile. And fill with a small sense of accomlishment.

Shane brings his lips close to your ear. "Good job, honey. Four more to go."

You could swear he presses a brief, light kiss to the side of your head, but brush it off as nothing.

You miss your next three shots—each attempt sloppier than the last and your cheeks feel like they're on fire. Whether from the warmth of his body nearly enveloping yours, the heat of the day, or the humiliation of having missed so many times, you're not sure.

But he'd not gotten aggravated with you yet. "Try again," he instructs softly.

"I-" you start, until he adjusts his stance behind you, briefly gripping one of your hips to fix your footing, causing you to go silent again as his hand skims your bare waist under your shirt.

"You say somethin', sweetheart?"

You shake your head. "I'm just having a hard time concentrating."

Your arms were resting in front of you now, the pistol lowered and gripped in each of your hands, the safety on.

"Somethin' you need to me to do?"

Take a step back and let me breathe, you want to say, but don't. It's impossible to concentrate with your hands all over my body, you consider, but keep your mouth shut. He was just trying to be a good teacher, that was all.

Somehow you doubted he had been this handsy with Patricia or Jimmy, though.

"Could we take a break, maybe?"

He comes to stand at your side. "We only just started. Tell you what, hit another bottle and we'll take a quick break. Can you do that for me?"

You don't answer. You simply raise the pistol again, but before you can even shut one of your eyes, he's pressed right back up against your backside, his arms and hands enveloping your own.

You sigh, squeeze the trigger, and somehow manage to get lucky.

As you take a brief pause, the two of you seated facing each other—both of you leaned back against opposing trees—you try to ignore his staring.

Eventually, he breaks the silence. "I'll get you a lighter gun when we get back. Think I know the one for you. Just...not sure if giving you a firearm is the best idea. Right now, at least"

You fidget with your hands in your lap. "Why? Because you think as soon as you hand it to me I'm going to stick it in my mouth?"

A muscle in his jaw feathers. "You said it, not me. But yes. Given your past...behavior, you can't blame me for bein' a bit paranoid."

You lean your head back, looking back to the three untouched bottles, mocking you across the way. Had you hit them, you wouldn't be having this conversation right now. "No, I guess I can't."

You don't see him shake his head. "Not even going to try and convince me otherwise?"

You look back to him. "I haven't exactly tried ending my life in incredibly direct ways thus far, Shane. I chose to stay at the quarry, you wouldn't allow that. I chose to stay at the CDC—same result. I collapse on the highway and you nursed me back to health. It's not like I was slitting my wrists or downing bottles of pills. It was more just...whatever happened happened."

"I just wish I knew how the hell to stop it."

The truth was...being here—at the farm—was actually helping. The wide open spaces that were free from walkers. The quiet, slow way of living. Having some sense of security with there being an actual house and barn nearby. Even meeting new people had lifted your spirits. But you were afraid to admit it out loud—that you felt small moments of happiness in this place every now and again. Because as soon as you did? It'd all be ripped away.

But you knew Shane was worried about you. A worry that grew with each day. So you cross your fingers—mentally knock on wood—before you tell him.

"Being here has helped. Being someplace so...untouched. I still have bad days and bad moments, but I feel better here. Lighter, somehow. I don't think about wandering off and ending it all like I did anymore. Now I just...I wish we could make a life here. All of us. But if you keep butting heads with Hershel that dream will end one day."

He studies you for a moment. "Think he's just living with his head in the clouds. Thinking those things aren't what they are. That help is coming. That we'll get past this and things will just return to normal before we know it."

"What does it hurt you to let him believe that? We all had hope like that at one time, too, incase you've forgotten. He hasn't seen what we've seen. Hasn't been through what we've been through. Just...put yourself in his shoes. Wouldn't you be just as blind?"

He shrugs. "Don't think I'd have my head that far in the damn sand."

You're both quiet again. You don't bother arguing further with him. He was stubborn—hard-headed as they came. Trying to make him see reason, or at the very least, another way, was futile more often than not.

"I'm happy to hear it, though. Relieved, really. That you feel better here. Guess we made the right decision by staying."

You flush. "I always wanted to live in a place like this. Quiet, with lots of land, and far away from everyone. Just...peaceful."

"Never did strike me as a city-girl," he says with a smirk.

You hum. "Hardly."

You lean back once again, closing your eyes, just enjoying the breeze blowing through the tall grass, and the birds signing overhead.

Meanwhile, Shane can't take his eyes off of you. Not your flushed face or full lips, your neck, the swell of your breasts under your t-shirt, your round hips, or legs.

He knew it hadn't been entirely necessary—him keeping himself pressed up against you during your first round of training, but the truth was he couldn't keep his damn hands off of you. You were just so damn soft and felt good to grip and touch and slide his hands along.

He'd been thankful you never seemed to notice the swell of his hard cock pressed up against your backside.

He'd not entirely tried to hide it.

He could feel that same erection returning as he admired your body, fantasized about what was underneath all those layers. He adjusts himself as he considers what you might sound like as he traces your curves with his tongue, what you might taste like cumming on it.

He liked to imagine how tight you would feel, clenching around him, milking his body of every last drop of cum he had to give.

Some time, late at night, weeks ago, he'd came—hard—and not with Lori's name on his lips, but yours, as he had his cock fisted tightly in his grip. He'd not even been expecting it, but it'd happened anyway—his thinking of you on your knees, his length in your wet mouth, wide innocent eyes staring up at him as he instructed you on what to do to please him.

After that night, all he did was fantasize about you. He hardly even considered her anymore.

It'd all started after you told him that damn wish of yours from your bucket list—wanting to lose your virginity before you died.

"You thought anymore about it?"

You'd nearly started drifting off to sleep when his voice had woken you. You look at him, a bit dazed and if anything, it turned him on all the more—he took no qualms with that idea. You lying there, limp and relaxed, legs spread for him as he did all the work to get you both off.

"What?" You ask, stretching.

He licks his lips at the sight of your midriff making a brief appearance before your shirt lowers again as you rest your hands in your lap.

"What we talked about a few nights ago on the porch."

You blanch, flushing. "Oh. That."

"Mhm, that. So, you thought about my offer?"

In truth, you had. Once, late at night, hand in your panties, coming away slick after you'd finished tending to yourself.

And then you'd filled with shame at what you'd done. Your family was gone—Sophia was missing, Carl had been shot and nearly died, even Otis, a member of Hershel's own family, had sacrificed himself to ensure the little boy made it.

The list went on and on. And that was what you had decided to use a bit of your spare time for?

Disgraceful. That was the best word you had for it. For yourself.

You shrug. "Not much."

His erection deflates, along with his ego. "Oh."

You look up to him and try to quickly salvage the situation. "It's not that I don't find you attractive, Shane. Of course I do. But like I said before, about Lori-"

He shakes his head. "That's done. Been done since Rick came back from the dead. She's moved on and so have I."

You raise a brow, not really believing him.

He sees the doubt in your expression. “Guess I’ll just have to prove myself to you, then.”

You cross your legs. “Why me, Shane? Why the sudden interest? Why not Andrea or Maggie or-”

He chuckles, glancing down to his lap, one of his thumbs rubbing against the palm of his other hand. He then looks back up to you and shrugs. “I think I’m just the type of guy who needs to feel needed. The two of them, as far as I can tell—at least for the most part—seem to be able to take care of themselves. You? Not so much. Not yet, at least. You need someone to look after you. Guess I appointed myself to that position without even really knowing it. Not at first, at least.”

So he saw you as a damsel in distress. Terrific. You weren’t sure whether you were supposed to feel offended or flattered about it.

“I’m not looking for a knight in shining armor to come save me, Shane. You don’t need to keep making me your problem. You have enough on your hands with-”

He leans his head back with an interrupting sigh. “We’ve had this conversation before. And it didn’t deter me then and it ain’t going to now. You’re not a problem, darlin’. I just want to be the solution, I guess.”

You can’t understand it, why someone like him—intelligent, reliable, with leadership skills, beyond good-looking, and above all a survivor—whatever the cost—has an interest in you. At all.

“What does that mean: be the solution?”

He shrugs, standing. He walks over to you, offering you his hand. “You tell me.”

It’d taken over an hour for you to break the last three bottles, as well as make decent progress firing at the targets. You tell yourself you would’ve gotten done sooner—would’ve done better—had his hands not been all over you again—Shane no longer bothering with ensuring he was touching you only over your clothes, as he’d gripped your bare hips more times than you could count.

And you didn’t want to acknowledge the hard length you’d felt pressed into your backside once or twice. You told yourself he must’ve had another pistol on him, or a knife perhaps. That was all.

More than once, just as you had your target lined up, he’d done something—touched you, whispered something in your ear, shifted his body against yours—causing you to miss entirely. You wondered if it wasn’t just his attempt at dragging your training out for even longer.

When he finally announces that you’re done for the day, you nearly cry from relief. Your arms were sore, as well as your legs from standing in-place for so long, and your head was pounding from how hard you’d been trying to focus on not just hitting your targets, but also responding correctly as Shane drilled you on various parts of the gun in your hands, as well as proper firearm etiquette.

You wondered if he took delight in making you feel flustered and frustrated.

When you finally make it back to camp, you’re thirsty, hungry, and want to take a nap. You begin to wander toward your tent, until you feel an arm wrap around your waist, pulling you in another direction.

“Oh no you don’t. You can sleep later. You didn’t bother with eating breakfast, so you’re having lunch, even if I have to hand-feed it to you.”

You look up to Shane and find you don’t have the energy to argue. He drops you off at the nearby picnic table, seated comfortably under a shady tree, and you watch as he steps away to prepare you something to eat.

You nearly laugh from the absurdity of him fixing you a plate for lunch—it seemed so domestic, especially since he was the one doing it—but you’re so tired that all you can manage is lying your head down, your eyes fluttering shut.

You fall asleep near-immediately. Until you’re woken by a plate being dropped in front of you.

“Eat.”

You lift your head, barely, and stare down at the two sandwiches before you, an apple on the side, and a bottle of water. You groan. “I’m tired, Shane.”

“Hand-feeding it is, I guess.”

He picks up a sandwich, which you promptly snatch away from him. “I can feed myself,” you state, taking a bite. Ham and cheese, you quickly figure out.

Shane sits with his legs on either side of the bench, his body facing you, watching as you eat.

You’re too tired to bother feeling self-conscious as you do so directly in front of him. You swallow, briefly glancing to him. “Thank you. For today.”

He nods, reaching up to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, which had escaped your ponytail. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

He even goes so far as to press a kiss to your forehead. “You did good today, darlin’. I’m proud of you. You have no idea how much.”

You take another bite, smiling to yourself.

Once you’d finished eating—Shane refusing to let you leave the picnic table until you’d finished every last bite, as well as the whole bottle of water—he’d led you over to your tent, which you’d crawled inside of as soon as he opened the flap.

You briefly thought to yourself that the tent was the wrong color and that the interior looked strange, but you didn’t dwell on it too long. Once your head hit the pillow, you were out like a light.

When you wake, it’s in the middle of the night with the urge to pee.

You nearly scream in fear at the feeling of another body pressed up against your own, until you realize just who it belongs to.

Shane.

Why was he in your tent?

And then it dawns on you: you were in his. It’s why everything had seemed so off to you earlier before you laid down. He’d led you to his tent, and had put you to sleep in his bed.

He wasn’t being subtle about what he wanted anymore, clearly.

You didn’t know that you liked this sort of behavior. Him being so forward. Not even asking what you wanted.

Just deciding for you.

On the one hand, part of you just wants to let him—anyone—do all your thinking and decision-making for you. On the other, you were still sure that a part of him cared for Lori. Perhaps more than cared for her. Even if not, he frightened you sometimes. His fiery temper, his hard-headedness. And doing this…right in front of everyone—placing you in his bed in broad daylight—he was staking a claim. It was possessive. And that scared you a little.

You didn’t belong to him. You weren’t sure that you wanted to.

You didn’t wish to read too much into things—into this—but if that was what he wanted: to be with you… All you could think was if you opened yourself up to caring about another person again, you’d lose him just like all the rest.

But being alone hadn’t been easier, either. Closing yourself off emotionally from the rest of the group had lessened your will-to-live significantly. Contact with others was human nature; you were all social creatures. And keeping yourself from having such contact had deepened that well of sadness and loneliness inside of you.

A well you think maybe he’s trying to fill it, in his own way.

Shane had chosen the worst sleeping position for you to try and get out of to relieve yourself. And if you didn’t do so quickly… Suffice to say you’d never have to worry about him wanting you in his bed again.

You were facing his bare chest, your head tucked under his chin, one of his arms thrown over you, holding you firmly against him.

You try to wriggle downward, thinking perhaps you can just slip out of his grip that way, until he moans in his sleep, clutching you even more tightly, a small squeak of surprise escaping your lips.

You briefly press your forehead against his chest, nearly groaning in frustration. You press your thighs together tightly, then do what you have to: you push firmly against his chest, not caring if it wakes him.

Thankfully, however, he releases you, rolling onto his other side.

You’d blush at the fact he was only in his boxers now, and feel angry at the fact you’re only in your panties and a t-shirt—meaning he’d undressed you for bed while you’d been asleep—but you were near-to-bursting at this point.

You quickly exit the tent, grabbing a roll of toilet paper from a basket of supplies nearby and find a tree to relieve yourself behind.

Once you’re finished, you stand, staring at two different tents.

And you hated to admit: that you didn’t know which one to choose.

You were going to have a talk with Shane in the morning about his behavior tonight while you’d been asleep. But right now, all you wanted to do was lie back down—not make decisions. Not think.

And it was chilly out.

You tell yourself, as you zip the tent close, climbing under the blankets and pressing yourself back up against Shane’s chest—as he’d rolled back over in the time you’d been gone—that you’d chosen his simply for his body warmth.

You fight against the small smile that begins to form on your lips as he wraps an arm around you once again, whispering to you, voice slurred from sleep, “I knew you’d come back.”

[dilfsandmartinis]

He's oddly fine... 😭

[dilfsandmartinis]

Little crush pt.6

-> Previous part <-

A/N: Im so sorry for how much time it took me to write this part, but these past 2 weeks i was sick and ha a lot of sterss at school so i apologise. This is not proofread and english is not my native language so i apologise for any mistakes.

At the woods Daryl was finally at piece, the only place that could give him this scarce pleasure. The sound of the running water around him never filed at calming him down. The creek on which’s side he was sitting on was his little sanctuary, hidden deep into the forest around your town. The sounds were slowly starting to put his mind at ease. He needed that, craved it. After the pain he felt at lunch he needed to take his mind of that, forget a bit about it so he can face it later. It wasn’t the best strategy but it worked for him. If pushing it down until it all became too much to handle and lashed out on the nearest person to him. The only thing he worried about was this person to not be you. Even after hurting him you didn’t deserve his harsh words. He would never hurt you, ever.

But even his own little heaven on earth couldn’t make him stop thinking of today. Why did you not come? At the end it was your idea, so maybe you actually liked spending time with him. Or at least that was what he thought. Maybe one of your friend heard about it and reminded you of the trash he actually was and then you decided to just don’t show up. It should be this. You didn’t want your friends to see you sitting with the “weirdo redneck” the whole school knew him as. And he couldn’t blame you, how could he? At the end of the day he needed to remember who he was.

Still this didn’t stop him from feeling hurt and let down by you. The excitement he felt when he bought the piece of cheesecake, hoping it will bring a smile to your face, was almost overwhelming. His heart was beating like a jackhammer inside his chest. While he waited for you to come and sit, he was thinking how to ask you out. Of course he couldn’t be smooth like the popular guys and straight up ask you. He was thinking that maybe going into the woods and showing you his favorite spots with the reason that was for your upcoming biology quiz. At your house you seemed interested at the subject so he thought this was perfect. And maybe if he was brave enough he could ask you out on a real date. Buy you dinner and walk you to your house. Maybe you would have given him another kiss on the cheek.

Yet that was only om his head. As soon as he saw you with your back to him, sitting with your friends, he knew he shouldn’t have lie to himself. Both of you were from different worlds and he needed to understand that. From now on he would keep his distance from you. Sitting away from you, not staring like he always does. Only this will keep him from being hurt again.

````````````````

The next day his plan was on the verge to fail every time you came within his eye side. In every class the two of you had together you were trying to sit in the closest possible seat, the whole time he could feel your eyes practically glued to his head, but he wouldn’t budge. After every class he would get out the fastest way possible. Even though he didn’t even want to look at you he was secretly hoping, deep down, that you will make him stop and explain that you didn’t dump him yesterday, that it was only a mistake. Something like you forgot or a friend of yours needed you for something really important. But he knew he shouldn’t hope. It was useless.

On the other hand, you were desperate to get Daryl’s attention, trying everything you could think of. The first two times you tried to catch up to him and explain why you didn’t end up with him yesterday, he walked so fast that it was impossible to even think of that. You knew he was ignoring you and you deserved it. But the truth was that you did wanted to sit with him, to be in his company again and to get lost into his beautiful blue eyes.

What happened yesterday was that you completely forgot. Until the moment you saw him leave the cafeteria you were so worried about the fact that you just received another bad grade in Science, a subject that you never seemed to understand, and the whole time were thinking of how to change it. It was so stupid and you knew that you had hurt him. The reason was so foolish and the whole rest of yesterday you were thinking how to explain it so it wouldn’t sound like something made up. At the end you decided to be honest with him. You would tell him the truth about what happened and then pray that he won’t call you a liar and never speak to you again. 

You finally were able to sneak up on him after school. Fort the rest of the school day you were laying low, walking in different hallways to not seem like you were trying to catch him. So he relaxed, thought that you gave up on him and everything is how it always was. Not that he was happy, no. Every time he looked around and didn’t spot you within eye sight he felt a little pang in his heart, making him drop his shoulders. He didn’t even bother trying to listen to any of the teachers. He couldn’t make it a day without seeing you. How pathetic. He didn’t even notice your figure standing next to the door he was about to go through.

“Hey, Daryl, do you have a second?” Your words made him jump, turning towards you, looking like he saw a ghost and he couldn’t take his eyes of you. You were looking amazing as always, but a worried expression was adoring your face. Why would you be worried? Immediately he was the one concerned now. Did something happen to you? It didn’t look like you were crying so that was a good sign. The wrinkle between your eyebrows deepened and he remembered that you had asked him a question. “What do ya want?” The moment he said it he regretted the gruff way he spoke and the way your face turned from worried to sad didn’t help either. Good job ya idiot, now ya made’er sadder. “I’m sorry for yesterday” You said with your eyes looking at the floor, not being able to look into his eyes and see the disappointment and pain in them. “I got a D in Science and was really distracted and at the end forgot. I’m so, so sorry. Let me make it up to you. Do you want to go out sometimes?” At your confession Daryl was dumbfounded. He hoped that you really forgot and had a problem, but he never seriously considered it. He was sure you were too embarrassed to sit with him, let alone ask him to hang out with you. And how could he decline that, maybe he was even able to help you out with your troubles. He was always good at science so maybe he could study again with you.

“Ye-yea, I want’a hang out with ya. I can also help ya with science.” At that he seemed too eager so he tried to play it down with a casually “only if ya want’ta” and leaning on the near wall, looking at the smile appearing on your face like it didn’t make butterflies flutter inside his stomach. In a matter of seconds your face turned from sad and worried to a blinding smile. The knowledge that he was the one to brighten up your mood made him feel prouder than he has ever been. “Really?” The joyful look atop your face was enough to make Daryl weak in the knees. No one has ever looked at him with such a sincere hope as you. The attention you were giving him made his cheek burn in a bright red color and he ducked his head so you wouldn’t see it. There was a warmth inside him, going to every part of his body. Such a unique feeling, but oddly a nice one as well. “So... um..do ya want me ta help ya?” He said. “Of course. Do you want me to come to your house?” You offered, thinking he will prefer to be at his place.

Daryl’s eyes widened at your seemingly innocent suggestion. His heart was beating a thousand miles an hour in his ribcage. Last time he came to your place so it was only fair if this time he was the host. And he was too shy to ask to come to your house again. But there was no way in hell he was letting you see the dump he called “home”. You were looking at him with an anticipating gaze. He couldn’t let you down, disappoint you. Just as he was about to ask to come again at your house an idea formed into his head. There was a place he could always go, calm and safe. A place where he felt at piece and wanted to share with you. The woods he always went to calm down was a perfect place. The side of the creek cutting through the forest was an ideal spot to take you and he wouldn’t need to explain his home situation.

“Actually I was thinkin’ of a spot I know. It’s quiet and nice.” He offered and was now anxiously waiting for your reaction. “Of course. Where is it?” you asked. “I can’t really explain it. I can pick ya up from yur house and will show ya. Okay?” Just after saying it he realized how this sounded. He was offering to take you to a place you didn’t know and you probably didn’t trust him. Nice job, ia dumbass. Now she’s gonna think yur some kind of creep. Realy smart. He braced himself for your rejection of his idea. But instead you were on board with it. Even seemed like you weren’t worried at all. The two of you agreed he will pick you up at 10 am this Saturday and later he will drop you off.

After both of you agreed on the details you said goodbye and went on your way, smiling to yourself that Daryl didn’t resent you about yesterday. And the help he offered felt like a blessing. If you were lucky tomorrow, there was a chance to maybe finally make a move towards him.

Daryl was still leaning on the wall you left him at and he couldn’t believe his luck, but there was an unsettling feeling inside him. Just yesterday he swore to keep his distance from you. What if you accepted his offer only for his help? It didn’t sound unbelievable, but you didn’t seem like the person to do so. The joy in your eyes seemed genuine and so did your face. But that didn’t stop him from being afraid he was going to be hurt again. Maybe he should tell you that something came up and he couldn’t, just stick to his previous plan, but he didn’t have it in himself to disappoint you. The only thing he could do was hope for the best. Perhaps he will find the courage to finally do something about his crush on you.

````````````````

The time until Saturday couldn’t come faster. That was the thought replaying in Daryl’s head while trying to fall asleep. It was Thursday around 12 pm and he was laying in his room, staring at the clock on his nightstand. The house was quiet save for the sound of his dad’s snoring. When Daryl came home he was greeted with the sight of his father passed out in his armchair, a bottle of beer on the ground next to it. This view was the best Daryl could hope for. The other instance was his dad coming home late into the night and taking whatever anger he felt out on Daryl. After he felt he inflicted enough abuse, his father would go into his bedroom and pass out, loudly starting to snore.

Daryl would almost always stay in his room, in a corner feeling like the weakest person on earth, the most he would do was craw in his bed, looking at the ceiling. On the outside he looked calm, just laying but inside his head he was screaming to himself to finally do something. To get up and move out like Merle, to run from his father. And just when he felt he had enough courage his dad would come with new insults to add on the long list. It almost felt like he was able to sniff out when Daryl felt even an ounce of self-esteem and bravery. Then he would come with blows and kicks, curses spilling from his mouth, making Daryl remember who he really is. And where he belonged.

A creaking sound made Daryl snap out of his thoughts. Wistfully he knew all to well this sound, the very one of his dad’s room’s door. It always creaked, almost like an alarm for him to hide. And that was what he did. Going to his window and carefully lifting it up, so he won’t make himself known to his wasted father. As soon as he could craw out of it he maneuvered his body and landed on the outside of the trailer. Just on time to hear the door to his room open and heavy steps come inside. He styled his movements and strained his ears to hear his father’s reaction. In his head he was praying Will wouldn’t glance out of the window, because if he did Daryl was screwed. Maybe there really’s a god. Daryl thought as the only thing heard from his room was a slurred curse and then the sound of his bedroom door being closed. His whole body relaxed and he slumped onto the side of the trailer. That was a close call and he knew how lucky he was. The down side was there was no way to go in soon so he needed a place to stay. The thought of going to your house flashed across his head but then he realized how it will look. Him appearing outside your front door at midnight at a school night. And naturally there would be too many questions.

He couldn’t do that so he settled on going for a walk around town. It was late so the streets were mostly empty save for a few cars and some groups of teenagers. He stopped at the convenience store and went inside. The only person onside was a middle aged woman, dressed in the store uniform. She only glanced at him and then returned to the magazine she was reading. One of the things Daryl liked about coming there at night was that no one cared who were you. The employees would just look up at you and then return to their tasks. Going to the fridges he grabbed a can of Cola and headed towards the register. Placing the can on the counter he reached for a pack of gum and also placed it on the counter. The woman scanned the items and snatched the bills Daryl had handed her. Placing the money in the register she didn’t say anything to him as he walked out.

Now outside he opened his coke and took a sip of it. He needed to wait a bit more before going back to hi place, just in case his dad still hasn’t fell asleep yet. Looking around and seeing the local park he thought he might as well go there. The park was well lit and a few benches were scattered around for people to sit on. While walking around his mind wandered off towards you. What were you doing now? Probably sleeping but did you also think about your upcoming date. Where you as impatient as him or you were just patiently waiting? Maybe he never even crossed your mind and he wouldn’t be surprised. After all you just saw it as a favor. But for him it was so much more. You were trusting him that he knew what he was doing, even putting hope onto his knowledge.

Without noticing he was already at the end of the park and enough time had passed for him to go home. With sorrowful steps he made his way to his trailer. He always dreaded coming there, but he didn’t have any choice. From the front door he could hear his father’s snoring so at least he didn’t need to worry about that. Going into his room he flopped onto his bed and hugged his pillow. But oh how much he wanted you to be the one there with him. To run your fingers through his hair and place a kiss on top his head. With this dream in mind he fell asleep. It wasn’t surprising when his dream was exactly the thing he wanted the most – you.

``````````````````

Saturday at 10 am the sound of the doorbell ringing made you run to open the door. You still didn’t have all the things you needed ready but didn’t want your mom opening the door and embarrassing you again, like the last time. Outside your front door stood Daryl with a little smile upon his face. “Hi, Daryl! Do you want to come in? I just need a minute.” You asked and opened the door more for him. “Yea, sure.” Answered Daryl and came inside. While walking beside you your hands accidentally brushed and goosebumps appeared along his skin. Every time your skin touched his he went all red in the face and this time it was no different. While ducking his head so you don’t see the crimson red painting his cheeks you made sure your mom is not around. Thank god she wasn’t, though it only seemed this way.

From the countertop in the kitchen your mom had a perfect view of the front door but you couldn’t see her. And she didn’t miss the way your eyes happened to brighten a bit at the sight of Daryl on your front step. And the way his face would color red almost immediately also wasn’t lost on her. Even though to here both of your feelings were obvious id didn’t seem like the two of you knew. But wasn’t it like this always?

Your house wasn’t that unfamiliar to Daryl now so he was able to relax a bit. The living room looked exactly like the last time he was here. Glancing at you he saw that you were already looking at him. Both of you blushed and looked away with little smiles on your faces. “So… I need only a few things from my room and I will be back. Would you mind waiting for a bit?” You questioned and waited for him to respond. “No, I will be good. I’ll wait here.” He said and looked around again. “Okay then. Make yourself comfortable.” You said and went upstairs, leaving Daryl alone. Going upstairs you grabbed a few books for science and the few snacks you prepared for today. Checking yourself in the mirror for the last time you went down happy with the way you looked.

In the living room you stooped dead in your tracks at the view before your eyes. Your mother was sat next to Daryl on the couch. She was smiling and it looked like she had just asked Daryl a question if you could guess from her expecting gaze. Daryl on the other hand looked like he wants to be anywhere but here. And your thoughts would be right, because Daryl regretted ever saying he wanted to come inside. He should have waited outside. Your mom came into the room just as you disappeared up the stairs, almost like she was waiting for you to leave. She greeted him and immediately started asking questions about him. He was so overwhelmed with that dose of attention that the most he could answer was a simple “yes” or “no”. Your mom didn’t seem to notice how uncomfortable he was so she carried on with her questions about how he was at school and other nonsense. Unfortunately, she didn’t skip the questions about his family but at that moment you came to his rescue.

“I’m ready. Are we going?” You urged looking at Daryl with raised eyebrows and a little smirk upon your mouth. “Yea, let’s go. Nice meetin’ you, ma’am.” Daryl said and got up. Your mom only offered a smile and said a goodbye as well. Finally, outside you questioned where you were going. Instead of answering you Daryl only glanced at you nervously and muttered a “You will see.”. Now that he was finally getting close to the woods he got more and more anxious. How would you react to him leading you into the woods? What if you found the little surprise he made for you ridiculous? But he didn’t let these thoughts win over the joy of being around you. The time you were walking there was mostly silence but it didn’t seem awkward or uncomfortable. It was the exact opposite, a comfortable one and he didn’t feel the need to say something.

After about a 10 minute walk you were at the edge of the forest. He looked at you, expecting to see you looking around and confused but instead you were looking at him curiously. There was not a single sign of worry or confuse. “There is a little creek about 5 minutes from here. Thought you would like it.” He spoke first and waited for your reaction. “Lead the way then.” You said and waited for him to continue walking. Daryl’s nerves calmed down after your calm response. To be honest he didn’t think someone would be that calm around him, let alone you. After all you didn’t really know anything about him. And after a bit of thinking Daryl realized that he didn’t really know anything about you either other than the basic stuff like family and friends. Today was an opportunity to get to know you and he should use it.

The forest both of you were in was beautiful, full of sounds and light. The birds chirping and the rustling of the leaves was like music to your ears. The last time you were in a forest was maybe 2 years ago when you and your family went on a camping trip to a nearby national park. Thinking of it reminded you of how nice it was. You never thought that you could miss the forest but here you were. And looking at Daryl you noticed how relax he looked, no tension visible in his muscles. That was maybe the only time you have ever seen him so at peace. He looked at you with the corner of his eye and you turned your gaze away, not realizing that you were staring but you couldn’t help it. You were seeing new side of Daryl unfold in front of your eyes.

Daryl could already hear the sound of the water running ahead of him. His body wasn’t as tense as it was at your house, the forest having its calming effect on him. Now his mind was worked up if the thing he went earlier to set up was going to be too much. He wanted to make something special for you and hopped you wouldn’t find it stupid. Walking on a bit of narrow path covered in dry leaves somewhere you heard a Woodpecker pecking. Looking around the trees trying to find it you didn’t saw a tree root poking through the forest floor. Tripping on it you were too stunned to reach out your arms to stop your fall. Preparing yourself for the pain bout to come you braced yourself and closed your eyes but no pain came. Opening your eyes, you saw Daryl holding you to his chest, his face having an almost terrified expression on it. Your faces were so close that you could feel his breath mixing with yours. Looking at his lips you wondered what would be the feeling of them pressed against your own. Looking back at Daryl’s eyes you saw a new emotion in them but you couldn’t understand what it was.

Daryl caught you out of pure instinct, not thinking how close your bodies would be. But when you opened your eyes and looked into his eyes with this look of gratefulness his heart started pounding like a jackhammer inside his ribcage. And when you looked at his lips he sneaked a glance at yours. How full the seemed to be and the urge to feel them against his own was almost irresistible. Almost. But what if you didn’t want this and pushed him away from you. Called him a creep and ran away. He couldn’t risk it so he settled with looking at his feet and letting you go, the absence of your body and its warmth against it painfully obvious to him.

“Ya ok?” he asked this time looking at your face, scanning it for any sign of pain. You only shook your head, still a little bit shaken up from being so close to him. “I’m good, don’t worry. Are we close?” Turning to the direction the two of you were walking in you stepped over the root and turned to Daryl. “Uhm…yea. Jus’ a bit more.” With that you started walking again, this time looking where you were going. After just a minute of walking you saw the light reflecting from the surface of the water. In front of you was a creek surrounded by tall trees, the branches of the trees making a colorful shade over it. And then you saw the rest. At the sight of the blanket and the food scattered on it you halted immediately. There were different kinds of food and 2 sodas atop it.

“Hope ya like it. I’ve never really did somethin’ like tha’.” His nervous words made you turn to him, seeing his cheeks painted bright red. He was shuffling from foot to foot and looking down. “Oh, Daryl, you did all this? For me?” One look into his eyes told him that you did in fact like it. “Of cours’ fer ya.” He said with a bashful smile and sat on the blanket, making a gesture with his hand for you to do the same. Plopping down next to him you continued looking around, enjoying the sight before your eyes. Daryl was doing the same thing, his gaze pinned on you. He was finally starting to believe that this was actually happening, you with him at the only place he knew how to relax. You probably weren’t feeling the same way as him but for now he would allow himself to daydream you do.

Turning back to him you pulled out a notebook and stared at him expectantly. He seemed like he forgot what the two of you were meeting up to do. Snapping out of his daydreams he pulled out his book and started to actually work. But every now and then you would take small breaks and would snack on the things he prepared and chat for everyday stuff. Daryl never thought talking with someone can be this easy, not awkward or pointless small talk. And you would ask so many questions, trying to learn the things that he liked. Asking what was his favorite ice cream - chocolate or about his favorite color – green. And he would always return the question absorbing the information like a sponge tossed into water. The knowledge wasn’t something really deep but it was the things that made you who you were.

By the late afternoon you finally understood Science. Turns out Daryl can be an amazing teacher, patiently explaining everything that you didn’t understand. And he now knew enough stuff about you that he felt like he has always known you. When the sun looked like was about to set you picked up your things and Daryl cleaned up, getting the blanked in one hand. Starting to walk back to your house the whole way you were talking and laughing. If someone saw you they would think that both of you were longtime friends, just going for a walk. Gradually in no time you here in front of your front door and you were turning to say goodbye to Daryl. But he was already looking at you, a seemingly sad expression onto his face. He didn’t want this to end, talking and learning new things about you.

“I had an amazing time with you. If you want to maybe, we should do it again.” The enthusiastic tone of your voice making him feel like someone lit a fire inside him, the warmth spreading to very crevice of his body. “I would love ta.” The smile on top his face was genuine and before he knew what was happening you were leaning in and placing a kiss on his cheek. His body was completely straightened up and the look on his face being like to someone just stricken up by thunder.

“Bye, Daryl. I will see you Monday.” Turning around and going inside your house you left Daryl on your porch wondering if he will ever get used to these.

Masterlist: @marvelcasey05 @zomb133g1rl @ryoujoking @starkeysslvt @appearancesaredeceiving4lice @that-german-girrl @tobemylover-x

[dilfsandmartinis]

locked away

summary. whilst hiding out from walkers in a closet, you grow extremely bored. the only thing to do is daryl, but you have to make sure he stays quiet

warnings. smut, handjob, sub!daryl, dom!reader, praising, mentions of gagging, crying

MINORS DNI (18+), I DO NOT CONTROL YOUR CONSUMPTION ON THIS BLOG 👻

divider credits. @cafekitsune

The aroma of cigarette smoke that clung addictively to his clothes filled your nostrils as you hid in union together, avoiding the stream of deadly walkers that marched in their haphazard staggering through the wide hallway. There had been worse that you survived through, so as long as you didn’t alert the parasites that filled the decayed human bodies of your presence, you would be fine.

Boredom struck you after the first hour of leaning all of your weight against the chipped brick wall, listening without consent to the groans and growls of the dangerous passers-by. If you had a nickel for each time you expressively rolled your eyes that had adjusted to the shadows which conjured a graphite colouring to which you could see, you would be astoundingly rich in a world without cash currency.

You had an impulse to blabber out the most random thoughts that appeared intrusively in your mind, although you were sure if you dared to your beloved Daryl would gag your mouth with that dirty red rag and tell you to shut up; and it wouldn’t be a first time for that. Your shoulders slumped defeatedly as the pressing circumstances of the long and drawn out waiting game refused to come to an end.

How many goddamn walkers were out there? Actually that was an answer you’d rather not find out whilst you were contained in a narrow closet which was consumed with lacklustre silence. Daryl wouldn’t even meet your eyes in the dark space, sternly pent up from your antics during the run that had lead you into being entrapped by your own free will and vigilance to live another day. He was pissed, and worst of all in this circumstance; turned on.

His pools of pitiful blue distinctly avoided your gaze, trying his darnest to focus on the stakes that were against you both. But he was pursued by a cloaking of consuming lust, his shoulders rigid as he thought repeatedly of your earlier words. If you’re a good boy, then maybe we’ll have some fun before we get home. It wasn’t likely to happen now, the bowman thought intuitively, sharply discarding the sweet images of pleasing you from his brain.

These walkers were preying risk to more than just his life, he felt like he could explode from the overbearing desire to feel your hands rake upon his entire body, and he mentally cursed as he felt his cock spring to life at just the the sinful thought. He grunted in solitary longing, pacing with light and feline like steps as much as he could in the limited ground that was cemented in the storage room.

“Something wrong?” You almost inaudibly spoke, cocking your head as the corners of your mouth twitched in mocking amusement, and he would have whined in response if there wasn’t the threat of the passing walkers merely inches away. “Come here, let me help you baby.” His head was lowered in a submissive bow as he followed your command, creeping towards you until your chests were all but touching.

It was something you adored, to see Daryl in such a state, and it made you feel powerful without any limits. The flow of your bloodstream began to pound with revelations with what you could make your obedient man disperse himself to. It was like he was a buffet of possibilities, however his arousal was rubbing against your thigh, making you recall his desperation, and it would be satire and cruel for you to allow him to suffer without your amorous caregiving.

You shuffled, keeping a balance on your body weight so that you didn’t accidentally stagger backwards into the buckets or moulding mops that were leant against the wall to your left, as you lowered your hands to his wide hips, giving him an affectionate squeeze before you turned him in your embrace so that his back was facing your front.

Admittedly there were times where you loved to listen to him beg and cry for lustrous attention, but now was not the time; neither one of you could make so much as a speck of noise, it was going to be difficult as often times Daryl would draw out long and pathetically attractive moans each time you held contact with his cock in any manner, but he would just have to be quiet somehow, and if he couldn’t control himself, you had ideas of how to make him.

“Be a good boy.” You whispered with sultry warning in his ear as you reached further around him, slowly and tantalisingly unweaving his belt, pulling the strip of leather through the flimsy loops which granted you access to undo the button and fly of his trousers. With swift motions you did so, carefully shoving them down his sides as his cock was released from its containment. It was leaking defiantly with precum, and he resorted to calming breaths as he steadied his own self into being relaxed despite the nearby danger.

He inhaled immediately as he felt one of your hands wrap perfectly around his achingly hard length, gliding up and down the taught and erect flesh which made him throw his long locked head back in pleasure. His eyelids twitched as he fought against his desire to let you know how utterly amazing you were making him feel, as he bit his own bottom lip over and over. You dared to increase the pace in which you were stroking him, and a shattered gasp tumbled past his bared teeth.

Without so much as a thought, you smothered his mouth with your hand, pinching his nose a couple of times between your thumb and forefinger to restrain the oxygen he was permitted for a few seconds. A vibration riveted against your palm, as a quiet moan was silenced by your restriction. His whole body was rattling, as he began to rut his hips so that his cock was moving in the grasp of your soft hand.

“Such a good baby.” Your breath hit his ear as you forbade yourself from saying anything else, knowing that it would be obscenely dangerous, and the hoard of vacantly minded walkers were more than capable of pushing through the locked door. Your thumb rubbed expertly against his tip, as tears began to fill Daryl’s eyes, however he continued to jerk into your grip, and soon they fled from his tear ducts. His salt water, pleasure filled tears rolled onto your hand, weaving across your flesh as his tongue rolled pathetically around your palm, losing any grounding to reality that he had.

It drove you on farther, moving your hand at a quicker pace to make him spill over the edge, and with one last tough tug, he expelled his seed from his balls, it shooting directly in the air for a moment, and landing vividly on the ground. Daryl continued to shake like a leaf, breathing a kind kiss to your palm as he held your hand against his mouth for a while longer. This was definitely an interesting tale, however you would never tell anybody else. Everyone else thought Daryl was the being of all dominance in your relationship, and it made you inwardly cackle at how wrong you were.

He was as submissive as a human could come (pun intended), and he stood there idly and cautiously as you aided him in tucking his cock back into his confines. You grappled his belt, pulling it back around into its holding as you pulled it tightly around his waist, your eyes glowing with the satisfaction that you could make him so easily crumble. With one last pat to his sensitive bulge, you waited a while longer, until the coast was clear and it was only a few stragglers of the herd to take out in order to make your unruly escape.

[dilfsandmartinis]

NSFW Alphabet Prompt: J is for Jack Off

Content Warnings: graphic descriptions of male masturbation

Author’s Note: Y’all know that gif of Max from The Resident masturbating in the bath tub? Yeah, that ruined me. And now we have this. Bonus visuals at the end, you’re very welcome. If anyone knows who owns this one above, please let me know so I can credit them!!! / This is the piece where @shamevillain caught onto my MO of including damaging gifs LOL

No one has permission to copy, rewrite, translate, or repost my work in any capacity. This is my intellectual property.

Word Count: 585

-

Masturbating isn’t something Negan does often anymore. Why would he when he has you and your insatiable appetite for him? But it still happens sometimes. You’re not always around, some days he just can’t ignore that morning wood in the shower, and there are times where his own touch is exactly what he needs.

In the shower scenario, that’s what he begins with. Steps into the hot spray and steam with an almost painfully hard erection he just can’t shake. Knows he won’t be able to get anything done if he doesn’t rub one out right now. He’s up early, so he’s got the time. He lets the water warm and wake him up before he reaches for a little bit of soap. The suds make it easier to glide his hands along his length.

He starts with his balls, cupping them in a slippery hand, massaging them and rolling them between his fingers. He moans softly to himself, barely audible over the sound of the water. His eyes flutter shut and he takes his bottom lip between his teeth as his eyebrows furrow and his neck muscles strain.

Next, he works his way up his shaft from the base, tracing his pulsating blood vessels and stroking slowly, teasing himself. When he gets to the tip, he’ll focus just there, working his frenulum, and his breathing gets heavier. His free hand slides up his body, caressing his chest and abs the way you do when you touch him.

Negan thinks of you; of your curves, your divine pussy, the sounds you make for him. Imagines you talking him through fucking himself. His grip tightens and he quickens his pace, putting his free hand against the shower wall or door and leaning into it for support. Jagged breaths and moans flow freely as his muscles tense and he nears his orgasm.

“Fuck,” he groans at his climax. The first few ropes of come hit the tile or glass and the rest spill over his fingers. Milks himself to the last drop. Then he’ll rinse away the mess and finish his shower as usual.

If he’s splayed out in bed, he’ll usually have some porn on. He’d love to strip down all the way, but needing to be ready to go at a moment’s notice, he opts for just pulling his cock and balls out of his pants. Does this after he finds something good to watch.

Negan’s a curious man, so he’ll explore the different genres and videos suggested to him. Some of his personal searches include ‘creampie,’ ‘big tits,’ and ‘sloppy blowjob,’ which are self explanatory. He also likes ‘lesbian’ and ‘pussy licking’. These two often yield the same or similar results, but he goes for the former because who doesn’t enjoy lesbain porn? And the latter because he loves female pleasure. Relishes in hearing those moans. He doesn’t normally care to drag out these masturabation sessions, though. It’s more for the needed release than the enjoyment of the act.

Porn is usually his only accessory when he gets himself off, aside from lube. Negan has never tried a pocket pussy style toy, but he’s definitely open to it. Nothing will ever compare to the real thing, but it’s a step up from his hands. If given the opportunity to mold yours, he would absolutely go for it, if you agree to it, and he’d certainly make you dildo replica of his dick, too. Thinks it could be fun to use them during mutual masturbation.

-

Gif(t)s by @jdmorganz TYSM FOR THIS EXCELLENT CONTENT. I WANT THE DICK SHADOW TATTOOED ON MY BRAIN.

Update: this got flagged bc of the visuals so they’re gone :/ I’ll link them when I get a chance!

-

Thank you for reading! Let’s discuss!! I read every single reply, comment, and tag, and my ask box is always open!

🔅 Masterlist 🔅 / More to come Monday (Valentine’s Day!!!) and next Thirsty Thursday 😈

Please let me know if you’d like to be added/removed from my tag list!

@amill22 @wheresurmoose @aeriean @sessoinfiamme @naughtyneganjdm @integra1127 @jdmslut-red @twdsunshine @tone-stark @giraffefej @my-obsession-spn @melixson @mayloma @msxvlska @supernaturalgirl1128 @rogersevansslut @twd-fanfics @ibelongtonegan @antoxsmith @dxddyissued @jdmfanfiction @negansbabydoll66 @apoliticalnonpartisan @hail-yourselves @girlwiththenegantattoo @themisfitfetus @trickstergaybriel @letsbys-library @negans-princess @straightedgevixen @redmercysugar @collectivefandoms @spices-and-cherries @pollyscrooge @daddyissuesx @murphslass @lostinaworldofdarkness @nassenattis @littleevilsecret @killsweiser

[dilfsandmartinis]

CellNegan favorite fics

It's my favorite era of Negan 💞

Key to my heart of @murphslass

Negan×you of @negansthoughts

Madly in love of @murphslass

1095 Days of @negans-attagirl

The cell of negansfavouritewife in ao3

Beg me of godsandmonsters505 in ao3

Back pain of @naughtyneganjdm

One Time thing of @naughtyneganjdm

Lip gloss of @lanadelnegan and part2

🍋

[dilfsandmartinis]

rickyl x reader but with rare jealous!daryl

daryl shouldn’t be seething at the sight of rick’s head in your lap.

there’s no reason at all he should be thinkin’ about skinning his best friend. it’s jealousy at its finest.

he can hear merle now, taunting him. he wonders if his brother would call him a “fuckin’ pansy” or a “pussy” first. fuming inwardly all by himself on his recliner. the piece of furniture begins to feel like an island. it’s even worse imagining he’s just watching you and rick.

once upon a time, daryl got a kick out of seeing you get those pretty, big brain thoughts fucked out of your head for just a moment while rick splits you open. there’s something in seein’ you all fucked out, thinking about fueling the fire between your legs only. the legs that daryl often threw over his shoulders, diving tongue first in your paradisal cunt. that would be before rick rolled his way in and insisted he be the first to stuff your tight, yearn slick pussy.

merle would rag on him for that.

“aw, poor cucked, fuck,” he’d try to stifle his laugh but end up roaring in laughter.

daryl does the same thing he did when his brother was alive and ignores the thought. the thought of you can’t be banished from his head though.

no, not when you’re running your hands through rick’s hair and looking down at him, lips moving in sweet muted conversation that daryl is too green to comprehend. he’s feeling selfish now and wishing you two could go somewhere alone.

moments alone with you hit different now. they’re rare but they exist.

like after he and rick spend the better half of the night taking you apart from the inside out, and you and him sneak out to the porch for a cigarette once rick’s fallen asleep.

sometimes daryl thinks rick sleeps worse than judith - the sheriff is basically an insomniac without you. you’re the miracle cure for the horror induced nightmares. it’s like a good spooning with you clears his head, but daryl can’t really fault rick for that. he does however absolutely loathe the sixth sense the constable has for when you’ve strayed away from his arms in the night.

the man’s head is swimming at the thought of you in his arms when there’s a knock at the door.

your glinting eyes are rolling but you’re calling out for your guest to, “come in!” rick’s scowl couldn’t be larger but he fixes his face once maggie comes into view.

maggie looks between you and rick, even sparing a glance at daryl before attempting to stifle a laugh and clearing her throat. “i’m sorry to interrupt, but deanna needs you at her house to discuss important matters.”

you feel rick tense beneath you. barely able to contain your own pouts, you gaze back up at rick and he takes that as his signal to connect your lips one last time. shining under the living room ceiling lights, the two of you mash wantonly wetted lips. lost in each other, you don’t feel the pissed off red rock across the room.

finally breaking apart, you whine and rick almost scolds you, wondering if you have any respect for maggie’s image of you. when he glimpses over your shoulder and catches sight of maggie’s grin, he’s smirking. daryl wants to go out into the woods and shoot something.

“well, duty calls.”

rick’s rolling you off of him, leaving you with another breathless kiss and nodding daryl’s way.

daryl struggles to maintain a cordial smile. this doesn’t go unnoticed by rick, who would’ve asked what was up with his typically mellow friend had he more time. the younger man’s more than relieved to see rick and maggie meandering out the door.

“dare’.”

damn, he almost forgot about you.

blue irises meet your dilated centers. the darkened, passion cast pupils beckon him to resume where rick had left off. a hand pats the patterned sofa.

that stirs him from his moodiness - slightly.

you’re assuming your position in his lap once his ass hits the cushion. hands gently wring around his neck until you’re sat firmly on top of him, gaze unmistakable.

“what’s goin’ on with you?”

startled, his breath hitches in his throat. his adam’s apple throbbing uncomfortably peaks your attention. you frown at him until his pink lips move slowly.;

“i feel like i haven’t even seen you lately, baby. and we live in the same fuckin’ house.”

your face falls at the words. “really?” you ask, wanting him to go on. the distraught look painting your typically sunny face has him not wanting to, but he does because you asked.

“you’re always on him, he’s on you. you touch me too and i know you love me. i know you like goin’ out in the woods with me but you feel so fuckin’ far away when you’re right there.”

“i’m so sorry, dare’.”

he’s quick to stop you. “it’s not your fault, baby, it’s not rick’s either-,”

“-no!” you interject, grinding down onto him by accident, eliciting a groan from him which you quickly apologize for.

daryl slaps your fleece covered ass lightly. “don’t apologize for being fuckin’ hot, baby.”

you giggle, leaning down to kiss him. he’s slowly but surely fading into this fairytale kiss you’re bestowing upon him until he hears another apology on your lips.

“baby, it’s okay.”

“no, it’s not.” you’re almost in tears now. puffy lips quake and purse. “you should never feel that way.”

“it’s fine, hon’, i feel better just telling you, an’ gettin’ it off my chest.” he assures you, playing with the top of your fleece shorts.

your eyes trail down to the drawstring of your shorts, and you wipe away a tear, revealing a yearning smile.

“would this help?”

daryl suddenly rolls into you, pelvis pistoning against the pillowy fabric of your shorts. he shrugs. “i don’t know.” he grunts. “maybe.”

you laugh. angling your hips, you dial up the pressure you’re coasting against beneath you when you come closer. daryl straightens to meet you for a kiss, succumbing to you, immersed until you whisper against him, “c’mon, i wanna feel you inside of me.”

daryl raises an eyebrow. “baby, i haven’t stretched you out.”

you shake your head, laughing. “you and rick already took care of that last night. you could stop fucking me for three days and as long as i’m wet-,” you get a blushed out look on your face. “-which isn’t hard around here.”

your lover’s face turns cocky. “you like being ready after being stretched out by two cocks?” pride laces his question. rick could irk him but he did love sharing you with his best friend more than anything.

that pretty little head nods up and down like it’s obvious.

“you gonna take me out and sit on me, baby?”

you’re nodding even more obediently now. falling into the instructions that have your pretty little clit swelling beneath your bottoms. that sends your hands racing to tug down daryl’s jeans, circling your hips as well to quickly spare a hand and work down your shorts. the sight has daryl straining.

“don’t make me wait, you know i can’t,” he complains with a kiss to your neck.

“mhmm,” you hum in agreement and tug down the waistband of his underwear, allowing him to help you with your peach pantone panties.

you involuntarily lick your lips upon seeing his gorgeous cock. the gigantic head primarily has your attention. has it always looked this big? you wonder. you want to take it into your mouth but the urge to give daryl that comfort he deserves has you hovering your already slick pussy above his hardened cock.

all at once, you let your hips descend and the first inch or so of daryl disappears inside of you.

“damn, girl.” the sensation has him crooning and singing your praise as you waste no time rocking up and down to develop that sloppy wetness on him - like you’re greasin’ a fuckin’ pole.

“mhm,” you whine. daryl’s awestruck face, scrunched from how tight you are despite your words, suddenly clears any stress or unease. he’s loving this, you remind yourself. an idea fills your head and before you know it, your begging for a hickey.

“huh?”

“a hickey!” you groan, bouncing with your hands firmly on his chest.

“then c’mere, baby,” and daryl’s clutching you down towards him as soon as you lean in. “i’ll mark you up however you want.” those thoughtful lips imprint into your skin immediately.

you gasp and wriggle against his loving mouth. he feels so wonderful, playfully bruising you with light scrapes of teeth and a roving tongue so well that your thought almost gets fucked out of you.

“want you to mark me up for when rick gets home,” you tell him, panting and squirming with pleasure on top of him.

length brushing against your walls which are flush against him like quicksand, those words are dangerous. he does his best not to fuckin’ jackhammer you to oblivion just at the thought of rick comin’ home to you all purple from daryl’s mouth - the mouth that was already obsessed with your pretty girl clit and taking a vacation between your legs.

“yes, whatever you want, baby.”

“ah!”

you’re not ready for the bite that isn’t as light as you’d expected.

“so tight on me.” daryl chuckles, suckling on the sensitive skin. “felt you clenchin’ like you’re ready, baby girl.”

“does my pussy feel good? squeezin’ you?” you ask, eyelashes fluttering.

daryl almost finished in you right then and there.

“course it does.” he replies without missing a beat. “what kind of question is that?”

the answer and the pace daryl is adopting has you seeing stars. heat is what you plunge into as you slide up and down on daryl. he’s dragging you up and down against him, hands burying fingernail marks in your soft hips while he fucks up into you and worships your shoulder.

the bite to your shoulder is what sends you tumbling into the tirade of pleasure that’s your orgasm.

on the living room sofa, you gasp and cry, tears falling into daryl’s hair as he takes a tit into his mouth, biting down. it’s a soft graze of cautious teeth but you yelp, startled by the pleasure and the spurting of warm come in your tight little cunt.

foreheads bowed against each other’s, you both find a rhythm in your breath - and each other’s lips again.

it’s when you and your lover are unsurprisingly making out again, once you take just a moment to breathe and pull apart, the question’s blurting from your lips;

“you know i love both of you, right?”

daryl softens beneath you. the hands on your waist rub languid, lazy patterns as daryl nods at you. “i do, baby.”

the twinge of a smile is on your lips until you’re suddenly remembering how you got to asking that question and straddling your dare’ like this in the first place. “but you shouldn’t feel that way.”

daryl’s shaking his head, ready to tell you that it’s fine, he’s fine but then you’re saying;

“how could i ever make it up to you, dare?’”

a million possibilities filter through his mind at once. there really isn’t an apology he won’t accept from you.

“how about a hunting trip? just the two of us.”

“i love your mind, baby.” he grunts, bucking up into you with that seemingly impatient, girthy rod.

you giggle in triumph, letting a pretty grin overtake your face. “alright now, back to where we were, huh?” you bear down to capture daryl’s mouth in a kiss, tonguing your way inside for just a brief moment before parting lips. “rick will be back from watch in an hour. how many hickies do you think you can give me before then?”

[dilfsandmartinis]

JON BERNTHAL as Julian Kaye AMERICAN GIGOLO (2022) 01x05

[dilfsandmartinis]

Jeffrey Dean Morgan as Negan 30/??

[dilfsandmartinis]

Jeffrey Dean Morgan as Negan 30/??

[dilfsandmartinis]

thirsty tongue thursday 👅