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no thoughts whatsoever just norman reedus🙏

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he so baby…. So baby… so cute… yay

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Sam Porter Bridges and Lou, Death Stranding 2

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wow

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sway baby .. SWAY!!

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Norman Reedus as Daryl Dixon The Walking Dead: Daryl Dixon · s1e6

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Please consider reading my multichap story, The Daryl Dixon Diet on AO3

ok ok ik we have daddy daryl but hear me out

a more like light hearted kind of sibling-like relationship with him. all that good protector daryl stuffs, but at the end of the day you two can make gross jokes and drink beer and .......arent afraid to get a little rough with eachother ;;3

i see this as such an easy way to get daryl to manhandle u around under the guise of 'omggggg guys hes like a brother to me' to everyne else

or am i weird

“you gunna call it?” daryl asks, and you can’t see his face, because, well - he’s got his chest pressed to your back and his arm around your neck, bicep in your face. but you can tell he’s smirking. he’s literally choking you out, holding you in such a tight headlock that you really do want to call mercy just to get a full breath of air, but you’re not going to give him the satisfaction.

you make a noise that tells him no, and he chuckles, slightly loosening his grip. and when he does, because you’re so mad that he is so much stronger than you, you bite into his bicep and he lets go of you so fast, you almost drop to the ground.

victory, then? you’ll take it.

“goddamn,” daryl mutters, scoffing as he backs away from you. “fuck is wrong with you?”

you just huff, walking back to the rest of the camp. daryl follows you, but as he makes his way next to you, he gives you another shove. it’s a light shove, but it nearly sends you toppling over, because it’s unexpected.

you love to play rough with daryl, to prove that you can handle it, that you’re strong, just like him - but the truth is, he’s so much stronger than you that it’s not even fair. fucking daryl and his stupid strong arms. you’ve never even beat him in an arm wrestling match, and you sort of just wish he’d let you win sometimes.

you make it back to camp, bickering with daryl, and the group parts like the red fucking sea. people hate being around you and daryl when you get into these play fighting moods, mostly - because it’s annoying to listen to the bickering, and also because they don’t want to see you get your ass kicked every fucking time.

“how is this fun for you?” maggie asked you one day, after she saw daryl putting you over his shoulder and threatening to throw you into the river until you let go of the last beer he found on a run. in reply to maggie, you just shrugged, sipped from you water bottle and told her the honest truth. “daryl’s a really good friend. sorta makes me feel like i have a brother or something, you know? it’s just fun to fuck around.”

you don’t tell her that you drip in your panties every time daryl shoves you against a tree and holds your hands behind your back while you squirm, call out mercy because the bark hurts your chest and cheek. you don’t tell her, that whenever daryl puts you in a chokehold, that you smell his musk and feel his strength - and you feel his cock, hard in his pants, pressed against you.

no. you don’t tell her that. she wouldn’t understand.

the next day, daryl starts his shit up again. you’re just walking with the rest of the group, when daryl comes up behind you and pulls your scrunchy out of your hair. it’s not a big deal, the pony tail thing, but it’s annoying, and you stop walking and stomp your foot and even when daryl laughs and jogs up ahead of you, you follow him and shove him as hard as you can.

“what?” daryl asks, while the rest of the group pretends like you both don’t exist. they literally just keep walking, ignoring the scene playing out right in front of their eyes. “you said you wanted to know what it’d be like to have a brother. jus’ doin’ what you asked,” he says in defense, but you just huff. there’s a twinkle in his eyes when he says it, a knowing smirk - and your entire body feels hot and electric.

even so, you plan revenge when the group finds somewhere to sleep later that day. daryl’s siting on a rock, and when he takes a sip of water, you spring up behind him and shove it out of his hand. rick, sitting beside him, looks at you with a poker face and then a sigh, getting up and shaking his head while you smile victoriously.

it’s okay though. because daryl throws the plastic bottle at you as you walk away, and you give daryl the rest of your water. and when you go down to the river to wash up, he pushes you in the water. tells you that you needed to wash your clothes, anyway.

you can’t even be mad. you see the way he looked at your tits in your wet t-shirt.

but today, you started it.

“give it to me,” daryl barks, still playful, but there’s something that’s actually a little pissed in his tone. it’s probably because you took the granola bar he found on a run that he’s been bragging about all day, but it’s not like you’re really going to eat it.

you hold the bar above your head, trying to keep it out of his reach, but it doesn’t actually do anything. daryl is taller than you, and his reach is longer than yours, but when he reaches above your head he doesn’t grab the bar.

no, he pins your wrist to the tree you’re up against, and the granola bar falls from your hand, onto the ground. “daryl,” you say, like you’re about to apologize, but he just shakes his head.

“yer fuckin’ crazy. was gonna share it with you, if you asked nicely,” he says, and you know that’s true. daryl and you are close, and you share everything, just like the rest of the group does. you’re all family.

“just a joke,” you tell him, because everything is just a joke with the two of you. you push and push, and daryl pushes you, and you touch each other and get physical under the guise that this is what friends do. this is what siblings do. whatever is going on between the two of you is fun and platonic.

except: it’s not. not one bit. you know this, from the feeling of your achey core now that daryl’s got you pressed up against a tree, and daryl knows this because his knee is slipping between your thighs, and you’re wearing a skirt, and -

oh.

his grip on your wrists tighten.

“let me go,” you say softly, so half assed, because there’s no use in lying or pretending. you don’t really want him to let go. daryl knows what you want. you know what daryl wants - you see it pushing against the zippered part of his pants right now.

“no,” is all he replies with, moving his knee just enough to make you whine. the material of your panties is thin, and it’s been so long. so, so long since you last had a chance to touch yourself. since you last got fucked.

“this isn’t what brothers do to their sisters,” you tease, but your breath is hitched and - it’s a lot. daryl nods, leans in and presses his forehead against yours. “no, ‘s not,” he says back.

he kisses you. and then -

he ends up fucking you right there against the tree, keeping your arms above your head, and when you cum - when you ask him to go harder, deeper, when he finally lets go of your wrists and holds you up against the tree, you cry out mercy while you cum all over his cock.

just seemed fitting.

back at camp, you share the granola bar. seated on an old log, your hair all messed up, daryl and you bumping shoulders because you just can’t stop touching.

rosita walks up to you, frowns, hand on her hip as she looks between the two of you.

“you okay?” she questions, before glaring at daryl. “you’re too rough with her, dixon. she’s half your size, you shouldn’t,” but daryl cuts her off with a wave of his hand.

daryl seems smug. you blush, wondering how rough you must look if rosita felt the need to say something.

daryl easies her worries, throws an arm around your shoulders and fucks up your already messy hair by rubbing the top of your head all roughly. you whine.

“she’s fine,” he assures, voice all calm. casual. “she knows what she’s doing. you should’ve heard her earlier, calling out for mercy.”

credit to: @nastydogpublishingco for the bones of this idea and the sexy details <3

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Love it! Girl Dad Norman ♥️

Source bigbaldhead

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Santos and Langdon are both feral smartass disasters + alignment chart

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soldier, poet, king

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AWWW!!!

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sry for not posting often... I'm kinda busy raiding armed civilians for ceramic as a traumatized workaholic old man🥀

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Ride or die? Ride.

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4:00 P.M.

THE PITT (2025-)

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LMAO