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iaure · 1 month
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˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ i speak quite airy on purpose, with a tone that is meant to indicate a sort of lightness. but when i do occasionally drop such a tone and resort to my baser instincts, i envision it to be quite like a rabid opossum digging through trash, only to be thrust with a light upon their face.
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iaure · 1 month
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thinking about early seasons daryl and how absolutely wild he would be in bed. in fact there wouldn’t even be a bed. he’d have you up against trees, on the sleeping bag in his tent, on the forest floor.
his thrusts would have no rhythm, and he’d shamelessly grunt and moan out into the wilderness.
the dirty talk would be so intensely dirty;
“fuckin’ love this pussy.”
“gonna cum on my dick like a good girl?”
“that’s it, fuckin’ take it.”
his favorite part would be when he gets to pull out and cum all over your tits, stomach, ass, or sometimes your face.
then he’d clean you off, give you a quick kiss to the forehead, and get back to providing for the group<3
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iaure · 2 months
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˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ once upon a time, i intended to make a major elden ring x reader (though at the time, it was an OC for a friend) multi-chapter fanfic, and wrote out each instance that each character would either fall in love, or that they become friends! i doubt i will do much with it aside from perhaps use the fragments for later works. the concept was that the Tarnished was once a princess during her waking life, but now was mutely wandering the Lands Between.
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iaure · 2 months
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Thank you so much for the explanation! I wasn't expecting that level of detail when I asked, and I appreciate it. I'm sorry about your situation, especially with work - that sounds really rough to deal with :( <3
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ all will be well, my lamb! ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ there are worse ails in the world! i am quite glad that mine are not worse. i am truly grateful for my flock's patience with me, and i swear it that the elden ring asks will be done. i will also update my rules and bio to be clearer!
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iaure · 2 months
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I love your yandere godwyn hc I just want to share some brainrot that I have so after godwyn death he become prince of death right but it's not the end of it he's love, obsession and devotion for reader was so strong even after his supposed death , the corpse tremendously taint the root of erdtree almost reaching all the land in between. This tainting can be seen among the death and living creature shown by the deathroot and the face of the prince of death in their body once it's visible enough his subconscious started to control all this being like a zombie hunting, searching hungrily , desperately but for who? It's his darling of course Tldr : godwyn was too much of a simple for reader even in death his still find a way to be together with you Also can you imagines godwyn using the death crab and basilisk to give reader some shiny peble or beautiful flower or controlling the skeleton undead to protect reader if one of them is destroyed he'll just use another undead to protect you the firstborn beloved
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ahh! the dedication!
this in fact reminded me i did not speak on what would happen of his darling, and after godwyn's death, and this offers me quite the opportunity.
godwyn using the undead to find his love once more is a beautiful idea. imagine...
simply wandering the wilds. the Lands Between have fallen so viciously, and nothing is safe. there is a strange hunter after you, D, for reasons you can't quite understand. where are the demigods that loved you so dear? where is godwyn? that golden sun? he was one of the few demigods that was not so twisted, so cruel. where is he? did he not swear to protect you, the last thing that was good and kind in the Lands Between, not torn by politics and divine loyalties?
but he was gone.
instead, you find strange hints. Creatures that go scuttling after you. Strange little crabs that would ordinarily bat around foolish Tarnished, but instead trail behind every step you make, with a half-familiar face upon their backs. when the strange hunter finds you, undead rip themselves from the earth and pry at his armour until he's overwhelmed. then, they regard you so gently. one reaches for your hair, to tuck it behind your ear. the other checks your arm for injury.
you are beloved by death, and it's not for some time that you find out why.
fia finds you. she revels in you. you may not be guided by grace, but she drags you to the Roundtable Hold, practically worshipping you. you, death's lover, what she so desperately has been trying to find. though she'd be honoured to bear Godwyn's Death-Mending rune, she knows he'd be so much gladder to have his beloved bear it. so she explains, the murder, the taint Ranni left.
and so, it becomes up to you. godwyn swears the rune will not kill you, not like it would any lesser Tarnished. you would be his lover as the Mist consumes, until the stars themselves burn out. what a lovely choice to make.
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iaure · 2 months
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Sincerely not trying to be annoying, but do you still have plans to write your requests one day?
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ the short answer: yes and no. The longer answer:
The elden ring asks; yes! Those are headcanons and much easier to digest. i am answering the godwyn ask today, as well as working on the tanith/rykard ask. elden ring, in general, is easier for me to digest, though it's generally much slower work, as there's more lore for me to take into account. one thing i often strive for is complete accuracy, though i do not doubt i've been wrong before. they take a very long time, due to being paired against my work and other life events, but i find them much easier to do.
the cheater!miguel ask; most likely not. though the concept was good, and i would've enjoyed writing it before, full length works are MUCH harder for me to focus on these days. unless it's something i wanted to work on initially (i.e. the daryl dixon mention), it's harder to pump out something that's roughly 5k words unless the idea came to me before. this also goes with one of my rules, that hyperspecific asks would be considered. i never posted the ask, but it's about two paragraphs long! very specific, and given the situation i'm currently in, while i wanted to attempt it before, i don't see it happening.
the tall!s/o leon ask; again, this was a wonderful idea! i'm a tall lamb myself, and always appreciate the representation. but there wasn't much else added onto it aside from 'leon with a tall s/o', so i'm unsure if they were hoping for headcanons, a full length work, mere thoughts...which means it falls into the same category as the miguel ask. again, it falls under another rule i had: 'have a base idea for what you want made', and looking back i feel i could've written it more specifically, but this means more than simply character + single notion. this also means - do you want headcanons? a full work? that sort of thing!
to be very transparent on my situation: i am a store manager for an ailing company store due to malldeath, so i'm under quite a bit of pressure. i do not get off days generally, as more often than not i get called in for one reason or another. paired with health issues i won't divulge and the fact that my ram and i are in a long distance relationship with a time difference, this leaves me with very little energy at all times. my schedule oft looks like this, on a day to day basis; wake up, go to work, get off of work, get home, cook and clean for my family, speak with my ram once he gets off of work, go to bed, repeat. i do not mean to blow off asks and requests-but i did put within my bio that i'm prone to disappearing for a reason. i think some might take it as a more artsy or figurative thing, but i meant it in the most blunt way possible!
this also means that my own writing capabilities are tied directly with inspiration, as opposed to energy. i know quite prolific writers who post every day, splendid things, simply because they have the energy! but i do not have that. if i am compelled to write, it is because something has kickstarted it; usually, starting a new series, as exemplified my ram has asked me to watch the Walking Dead with him. i operate often on a snowball effect; i write one thing, then another, then another, before hitting a block and waiting for the next thing to come along to kickstart it.
allow me to be clear; i am certainly not upset by this ask, nor is it annoying! it's a very genuine question, as it's been nigh a year since most of these asks have been sent. as far as my flock sees, there is no work being done, no proof of such. i suppose it's akin to an absent mother bringing back men after my children get attached to the one prior. it is far from the best situation, but i am attempting to be as transparent as possible about my work and processes.
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iaure · 2 months
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˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ if i wrote for daryl dixon would you all forgive me
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iaure · 2 months
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♱ long before (s2!daryl dixon x green!f!reader)
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summary|| As fate would have it, a devastating tragedy compelled your father to open up your front gates to a group of families seeking refuge from the new world. Amidst the unexpected turn of events, a certain individual with piercing blue eyes, a colorful vocabulary, and a rugged charm manages to capture your attention. However, as tensions rise and emotions become complicated, you're forced to confess your deepest desires.
warnings|| MDNI; 18+ content, semi-public, blood/violence + mentions of, swearing, size kink (if you squint), smut, fingering/handjob (f!m!receiving), unprotected sex (p!v), rough sex, bodily fluids (sp!t/squ!rt), praise, dirty talk, begging, breeding, cockwarming;
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masterlist. socials. rec.
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It wasn't every day there were new people at the farm, let alone living people. However, when your older sister's shrilling voice called for your father and the all too familiar smell of fresh blood came wafting through the front door, you knew the peaceful salvation of your childhood home was no longer hidden from the terrors of the new world. 
That had been weeks ago; before families were camped out under the shade of the oak trees in your front yard, before Otis had died, before you had met Rick, or before you had sat and comforted Lori as her son lay dying in the blood-stained sheets of your guest bedroom. 
Long before they'd found any evidence of Carol's little girl being anywhere nearby, and even longer before a certain blue-eyed, foul-mouthed, redneck had caught your attention. 
You'd heard him ride in with the rest of them. Watching him from behind the white, wooden column of the porch. Tanned, dirt and sweat-covered skin, dressed in a sleeveless button-up that exposed the toned muscles of his arms, which flexed as he flicked the kick-stand down and stepped off the motorbike. 
It didn't take long for you to make friends with the rest of the group. Although, no matter how often you tried making peace with the shaggy-haired man, he always seemed to push you further and further away. 
Perhaps he knew what you were trying to do. Like he'd somehow discovered your ploy. How you'd show up at his tent on the outskirts of the camp, dressed in those frilly little sun dresses, presenting him with something or another that always made his heart swell up in contentment. 
No matter how short he was with you, or how many times he told you it was 'nun of y'er business', he still couldn't help but feel unworthy as he watched you frolic your way towards his islet tent.
It wasn't until he had heard you one morning, from the other side of the bathroom door, that was when he knew he was fucked.
Carol had demanded he'd shower, it did no good to have him 'stinking up every place he went' as she had put it. He had scoffed before eventually agreeing a shower might actually do him some good.
A place where he could relax for a short time, stretch out his strained muscles in the lukewarm water as he cleared his head from the millions of thoughts he had since their arrival.
The water was already running and he was praying that whoever it was in there, wasn't using up the rest of the warm water. He was about ready to bang on the door and call out a harsh 'hurry up in there'. That was until he heard the sweet sound of your voice from inside, suddenly rendering him speechless.
"oh daryl..." All high pitched and slurred, in that sweet honey-coated tone filled with urgency and pleasure. He wanted to move, he truly did.
You were just a girl, maybe 8 or 9 years younger than him. You didn't know what you were doing, acting solely on desire and lust, still foolish and ignorant about the real world.
That is what he told himself, as he imagined what you must've looked like in the moment. Hand shoved between the milky plush of your thighs, the same ones he'd caught himself staring at more times than he'd like to admit.
Skin flushed under the warm water and steam of the shower, face displaying a consuming look of pleasure, as your orgasm coaxed little whimpers and whines out of your parted lips. "daryl, daryl, daryl..."
He couldn't stand there any longer after listening to you finish. Rushing through the front door and down the porch steps before hastily grabbing his crossbow and wandering off in hopes of finding anything to distract himself from the blasphemous image of you.
Little did he know that wasn't the first time you had touched yourself to the thought of him.
Earlier that morning you'd woken up from an erotic-filled sleep, slick and sticky, panties clinging to the dripping arousal of your cunt as you rubbed your thighs together hoping to provide enough friction to lazily get yourself off.
You huffed and turned over a few times before giving up. Throwing the covers off and exposing yourself to the nipping cold of your bedroom.
You walked towards the window, hoping that the sight of the barely rising sun, was excuse enough to crawl back under the covers and rest for a few more minutes, before having to get up to start your early morning chores. However, the sight below you caused a chill to run up your spine, as goosebumps littered your skin.
He stood below your window, the picnic bench in front of him occupied by his crossbow, and the remains of his catch for this morning's breakfast.
The way he so effortlessly worked on his kill; cleaning, gutting, and skinning whatever poor little forest critter so foolishly crossed his path.
The sight of his muscular arms, as they flexed and strained, was alluring compared to his gore-full actions, and before you knew what you were doing, your hand snuck under the hem of your short, floral nightie.
Resting a hand against the window-pane as your other slipped into your panties. Your fingers played with the wetness of your arousal, coating them in your slick as you eased them past your slippery lips and into your weeping entrance.
You moaned quietly, pulling them back out to rub circles against your swollen clit and then plunging them back into your aching cunt again. Repeating the action over and over again, as you ogled the man before you.
You imagined what it would feel like to have his hands on you, instead of your own. Bigger and rougher, the callused skin of his palms running along the softness of your waist and hips, as he'd rock you back and forth on the pads of his fingers.
Gripping his forearm for leverage as you quivered against him. The pure strength of his bicep, which you'd grip at to keep yourself from collapsing into a puddle of sweat and cum.
His warm breath fanning against your cheek and neck, as he encouraged you with those sweet little praises. "You like that, huh? You like that, sweetheart?...Come on, sweet girl don't you want to cum?"
Your walls tightened as you became painfully close to the edge. Your legs trembled, knees buckling as you held yourself up against the glass. Your orgasm was bliss, soaking your thighs and hand with your release, as you muffled a cry, biting your bottom lip in order to keep yourself quiet.
Coming back down from your high you quickly stepped away from the window shamefully. Your skin felt hot and sticky, and even after just getting yourself off, you wanted more, you needed more.
You decided a shower would be best, something relaxing and isolate where you could refresh yourself, before having to go about your day.
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It had been a few hours and you were now seated by the burning embers from this morning's fire, helping put together whatever you could find to make some sort of breakfast for everyone before they all got to work for the day.
You spotted Daryl as he made his way out of your house and back towards the camp. His hair, a darker shade of brown, as fresh water droplets dripped down the recently cleaned skin of his neck.
God, what you would give for him to let you lick it up with the flick of your tongue.
You imagined what he'd smell like, what he tasted like. His scent, wouldn't be clouded with any fragrance that distracted from his natural musk. His skin, warm and inviting against the drag of your tongue. You could feel yourself getting wet at just the thought of him.
Quickly you grabbed a plate and made your way up across the grass, stopping in front of him as he was headed towards the RV. You watched him freeze, his eyes casted down and away from you, causing you to frown at his refusal to meet your gaze.
"Here, I know it's not much... but you should eat something."
You offered him the small plate, only for him to hum and shake his head. "'m fine." You were concerned at his refusal. He was not a man of many words, but that didn’t mean dismissing you like this altogether. He'd normally just take whatever it was you were offering him, before going back to whatever it was he was doing.
"Look... everyone's eaten and you know nobody's going to be seen harboring back for seconds, given our circumstances." You laughed it off in hopes of lightening the mood. Only when you looked back at him, did you notice the look of anger take over his features.
"No you look... I don't know what ya' think this is, but we're not 'ere ta' make no friends. Our only priority is findin' a way ta' get the hell off this farm, and whether or not I eat this piss-pour excuse of a breakfast, is gonna change that. Ya' hearin' me?"
His words caught you off guard. They were harsh and filled with hurt, and knowing that those around you had most likely turned to look at him, once the sound of his voice had risen, was humiliating.
It was mean and patronizing, and you were embarrassed that he'd thought he could talk to you like that. Like you were just some ignorant girl. Like someone who didn't really know what was actually going on.
It didn't take you very long to flee after that. You had almost scoffed at him before shoving the plate of food into his chest and brushing past his shoulder.
You weren't going to let everyone see just how much his words had gotten to you, so you lifted your head and walked with poise back towards your house.
Only once you'd made it into the solidarity of your kitchen did you let out the breath you were holding. Cursing at yourself for not seeing it sooner, by letting the way he made you feel cloud your judgment of who he really was, who he really thought you were.
In that moment you decided for yourself to just push down this stupid little crush and focus on what was important. Helping get these people back on their feet, so they could get a move on.
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You consumed yourself with chores the next few days. Helping Lori with laundry, Carol with any cooking, and even offered Andrea a hand maintaining the few guns your father had let them keep, while helping protect the farm.
She was pleasantly surprised at how much you knew about such weapons, but you quickly reminded her how you'd grown up and where exactly you were raised. This only encouraged her to teasingly call you a 'hick', before asking if you wanted to go shooting with her and Shane the next time they went out. You told her you'd think about it before excusing yourself from the RV.
That night you sat with them beside the dying fire, and it didn't take long before you felt the heat of a lingering gaze on you. However, this one was dark and grim, greedy and predatory. Unlike the light, pastel blue eyes you were so familiar with.
These felt thieving, like they were just waiting watching for the chance to get you alone, secluded and out of the keen sight of others.
You felt it best to turn in for the night. Walking back towards the house you weren't scared, far from it, you knew this farm like the back of your hand and yet you still felt unease.
The snap of a twig behind you caused you to gasp, as you expected a walker to step out in front of you and bite your face clean off. However, the sight of Shane emerging from the shadows was strangely just as frightening. Those temperamental eyes that looked you up and down, caused you to wrap your arms a little tighter around yourself.
"Andrea tells me you're good with a gun. Real good..."
Nodding compliantly, hoping it would satisfy him to cut the conversation short and allow you to escape inside. Except your silence only made him pursue you even more.
"She's giving me more credit than I deserve. My father taught me how to shoot, that's all." You quickly remitted.
Shane wandered closer and you took a quick look back at the house, trying to estimate how many steps you would need to take in order to get back inside if need be.
"What is your deal then, hm?"
"My deal?"
"I just mean, I'm trynna figure you out."
"I guess there's just not much to figure."
"Oh, but that's where you're wrong. I just want to know what makes a pretty young thing, such as yourself swoon so hard over that dirty old red-neck." You're shocked at the accuracy of his accusation.
"I think I'm tired, and it's getting late, and I'd like to go to bed. Goodnight Shane."
"Now just wait a min-Everythin' alright?" Daryl suddenly emerged from behind you and you'd suddenly grown frustrated.
You hadn't seen nor spoken to him in the last few days yet, here he was showing up to save you like you were some damsel in distress.
Dragging a hand through your hair and letting out an exasperated sigh. You watched as Shane stepped closer to the both of you. "You got impeccable timing, you know that?"
"Hell's that suppose to mean?"
"Nothin' man, just getting to know our hosts a little better, that's all."
"Yeah? Well don't."
Scoffing at both of the men, drawing their attention back to you. "I'm not standing around here to watch a cock-fight. Both of you, just leave me the hell alone." You left them at the bottom of the porch steps.
"Wait a sec... Just stop!... I'm sorry!" You froze, halfway through the door frame.
Slowly, you turned around to find Daryl standing at the bottom of the stairs, nervously scratching at the back of his neck.
"What?"
"I was pissed, 'n took it out on ya'. Wasn't right."
"Carol make you come up here."
"Nah, feel bad... didn't mean to hurt ya'."
You were genuinely surprised that he'd come back to apologize all on his own. Looking away from him seemed to be the only way to keep a smile from breaking out on your face. You nodded and hoped it was enough to get him to retreat, but he didn't.
"Hey..."
He called, making you look up at him through your lashes.
"When I say m'sorry, I mean it."
You nodded again quickly. "I believe you."
It was now his turn to nod this time, as he drummed his thumb against the side of his leg. "Only... you owe me another apology."
"Hmm?"
"That breakfast... was not piss-poor… made that with love." You teased, leaning up against the door frame.
He stifled a laugh and kicked at the dirt in front of him. "M'sorry 'bout that too then."
You couldn't help but flash a warm smile at him while you watched him fidget before you. Stepping back onto the porch and descending the steps until you stood face-to-face with him at the bottom.
You gazed into his eyes and despite the slight height you got from the stair, you found yourself still having to tilt your head up to meet his gaze. You couldn't help but feel a sense of curiosity, as there was an indescribable emotion hidden within them.
Rather than trying to put it into words, you decided to thank him. Affectionately rising up onto your tiptoes and planting a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Goodnight, Daryl."
Then with a smile, you made your way back up the stairs and towards the front door, as you finally entered the house.
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You didn't sleep well that night, tossing and turning for hours before you eventually gave up on sleep altogether.
Once the sun began to rise you slipped on your boots and grabbed a sweater, hoping maybe an early morning walk could help you clear your thoughts.
They only really consisted of one thing, Daryl. Even though he apologized, that hadn't been the only time he'd been short with you. Sure, it was the first time he'd actually yelled at you.
You wondered why he had been so mean, what had made him snapping at you so early in the early morning, when you were just trying to be kind to him? What had happened that he was already pissed off about?
Coming up late last night when Shane had been trying to 'get to know you', and as much as he made you uncomfortable, why did Daryl feel the need to interrupt?
Did he secretly despise you that much that he had to ward off people from trying to befriend you? It confused you, how such a seemingly simple man suddenly became so complex.
You hadn't realized how far you had wandered until the sight of the old brick chimney came into view. You knew it was time to turn back when you'd somehow managed to subconsciously walk towards the one thing that was causing you so much troubled.
"What're ya' doin'?"
You gasped at the gruff sound of his voice. Turning around to see Daryl not too far from you. He looked well rested, like he'd just woken up.
"Couldn't sleep. Needed some time to think, figured a walk'd do me some good."
"So ya' wondered all the way out 'ere."
"I guess so."
He looked off from you, not having anything else to say, or maybe just not having the words. "Did I do something? I mean... to bother you or upset you in some way. I get it now that you're not one to make friends, but after you apologized… I just don't know what I did to deserve you making sure everyone stays clear of me."
"Like ya' talk with Shane was so friendly."
"That's not what I meant and you know it."
There was a pause as you waited for Daryl to speak.
"I heard ya'..."
Your face scrunched in confusion and Daryl sighed. He'd hoped you'd understood what he was talking about without having to go into much detail about it.
"Sayin' my name..."
Your eyes widened and you flushed bright red in embarrassment.
"I- I'm sorry, I thought the window was closed... I-"
"Window? Nah... in the shower..."
You became even more humiliated, not only by the fact that he had heard you touching yourself to the thought of him, but as you accidentally confessed how you'd done it more than just the once.
"Look y're a real pretty girl 'n all, but it just ain't right... With yer father lettin' us stay 'ere, it wouldn't be right."
"So you're saying if this wasn't the circumstance where we met, you'd take me to bed?"
"That ain't what I'm sayin'."
"Then what are you saying, Daryl?"
"That m'pushing 30 and y're barely 20..."
"21... 'n I'm not a child, Daryl. Not where it counts..."
"Shouldn't be sayin' that."
"Why? Why does it matter? We're both adults. There's not a soul in that house that would even give a damn. The world has ended, there are no laws, no morals to live by anymore. There's only wants and needs, and I don't want to be scared anymore... and I need you..."
You stepped closer to him, eyes never leaving his as you bravely confessed your feelings. "Tell me... Tell me that you don't need me."
You watched his pale blue eyes as he studied your face. It was as if he was almost trying to decide whether or not this was real, whether or not you were real.
"I can't... but I can't give you what you want either..."
"You can-No, I can't"
"What is it you think that I want?"
"Why me, huh?... What is it about me that you need?" He dismissed your question with one of his own.
"I see the way that you are... with Rick... with Carol. You want to protect us, I know that."
He tried to brush you off, turning around to distance himself from you, but you grabbed his arm, stepping ahead of him to stop him from walking away from you. "Don't run from me. I may not know what you were like before this, but I know who you are now. I know why you showed up last night..."
"Ya' don't know nothin' ." He spit out.
"I know you wanted to protect me. I know that's why you warded off Shane, and why you apologized. You might not know why, but I do. It's because you care. You care about me... and us, and this place, and you can pretend all you want like you don't, but you can't fool me, Daryl."
You hadn't let go of him and you reached out to grab his other hand. He flinched and tried to pull back from you, but you didn't let him. Bringing his hand up to cup your cheek as you looked up at him longingly.
"So stay with me... Tell me that you do need me... and don't let anyone take me away from you..." All he did was stare at you, his hand remained relaxed against your cheek.
You were about to drop it in defeat and sulk your way back to the house, but his hand flexed, fingers threading into your hair and pulling you closer to him. You closed your eyes as he rested his forehead against yours. His breath was ragged and you were afraid he was going to pull back and leave you all alone.
He nudged the tip of your nose with his before tilting your head back and finally slotting his lips against your own. Leading closer into him, your grip on his arm tightened and you tugged him closer by the collar of his shirt. His hand still in your hair, pulled you into his needy mouth as his arm wrapped around your waist to keep you firmly pressed up against him.
You put every last bit of your doubt into the kiss, hoping he'd take it all away from you. That he could somehow tell you that you were right without having to pull his lips away from yours.
His hands began to wander, gripping at you wherever he could. Brushing your hair over your shoulders, and pulling at the sleeves of your sweater to run his hands over the exposed skin of your back. Hooking your arm around his neck and kissing him fiercely as he leaned down into you.
You opened your mouth for him as his hands traveled down over your waist. He rocked you against him, pressing you into his hips causing you to gasp into his mouth at the feeling of his erection digging into your stomach.
His hands didn't stop, leaving behind a trail of fire in their wake as he continued to caress as much of your skin as he could. He took a step forward and you stumbled for only a moment before he lifted you off of your feet and wrapped your legs around his hips.
He led you both over to his camp, ripping open his partially zipped tent before ducking the both of you inside. You hadn't pulled your mouth from his neck, and when he finally set you on trembling legs you were able to see just how much damage you'd done to the heated skin.
He began stripping you of your sweater as you simultaneously worked on the buttons of his shirt, only you hesitated at the sight of the pronounced tainted skin on his chest. His shirt was pushed off his shoulders, hanging around his elbows allowing his arms minimal movement to clutch at your waist.
Your fingers traced over the scars causing him to flinch, reaching up to pull your hands from his body. He looked at your face, utterly surprised when it wasn't a look of disgust or pity gracing your soft features. Instead, a small smile and a look of admiration.
He let your hands slowly rest back against his heaving chest. Caressing your wrists as you went back to tracing the darkened skin. He closed his eyes when you'd touched a particularly deep one, shivering as fantom pain shot across his shoulder.
You froze and he opened his eyes to see you looking back up at him worriedly. He hummed and leaned closer, nudging his nose against the side of yours before kissing you softly. "S'okay... don't hurt."
You nodded, slowly pushing his shirt the rest of the way off his arms, letting it fall, discarded on the ground behind him. You toed off your boots as he led you back towards his cot. Placing kisses along each new area of your body he exposed to the chilled morning air, as he pulled off your sweater and slip.
It soon joined his shirt and his own boots on the floor as he laid you bare on his sleeping bag, which was accompanied by a few thick blankets and a single pillow.
He pulled back to look at you, kneeling between your parted legs. Your hair, fanned out around your head in a halo as your skin flushed pink. A few marks along your neck and chest, turning a dark purple, a harsh comparison to your delicate complexion. It caused his heart to beat furiously, as his chest filled with pride.
You whined and reached out for him hoping he fall back down against you. Only he took your hands in his and pinned them against the blankets. His fingers laced and gripped tightly onto yours as he dove back into your neck and chest to continue his assault on your sensitive skin.
Your back arched as he sucked and nipped at the tender skin of your throat and your hips rolled against his, chasing that feverish need for pleasure. He pulled away from you again and you almost cried, but at the rustling sound of fabric and the jingle of his belt you whimpered in anticipation.
He was back on you before you could even call out for him. Hands ripping your panties down your legs, caressing the soft skin of your ankle, and placing a kiss to the muscular physique of your calf. "Daryl..."
There it was, that oh so familiar plead of his name, laced with lust and desire.
"Again..." He demanded.
"Daryl?... please, Daryl..."
He crawled between your legs, resting against the pillow with his hands on either side of your head. His lips caught yours as you caressed his sides. Hands traveling over his back, only to find more scars etched into his hardened skin.
You moaned into his mouth, pulling him even tighter against you, grinding your hips into his erection, which strained against the fabric of his boxers.
He growled and kissed your lips deeper, ignoring the voice in the back of his head telling him to stop. Telling him that he wasn't worthy enough. That he didn't deserve the privilege of touching your flawless skin with his tainted hands, or pressing his roughened lips against your delicate ones.
However, as your hand caught him firmly around the neck, keeping him from pulling away from you, and your hips eagerly bucked against his once again, as a symphony of your pleasure flowed into his mouth, the voice fell silent. Drowned out and muffled by you, and you alone.
Your fingers toyed with the waistband of his underwear, teasing the trail of hair leading down from his navel, before slipping underneath the fabric. His breath hitched as your nimble fingers wrapped tightly around the base of his cock, tugging at him skillfully.
He leaned in, resting his forehead against your temple, his lips parted as his breath quickened. You continued to attentively pump your hand up and down his hardened length. The fingers of your other hand tenderly running through his hair, showering him with affection as your lips brushed against his flushed cheek, leaving a trail of lingering kisses on his heated skin.
"f-fu... Fuck..." He stammered, his hands tightened around the quilts, his arms trembling as he struggled to maintain his advantage above you.
He suddenly pulled your hand off from around him, pinning it back onto the bed. "S'enough... won't last if ya' keep that up."
He groaned, trailing his free hand down between your bodies, as his fingers parted your lips, playing gently with your dripping folds. The sound of his voice in your ear sent shivers down your spine, causing you to gasp in pleasure. You instinctively clung onto him as you tugged lightly on his hair in an attempt to encourage him.
Daryl only hummed into your skin, nuzzling his face into your neck as he continued collecting your arousal on the tips of his callused fingers, spreading your wetness around your swollen, aching clit.
If it were anyone else, you might have felt self-conscious about how wet he'd made you from something as simple as his hands against your skin, or how perfectly his body fit against yours, but with Daryl, all your thoughts melted away. Everything just felt so comfortable, so right.
His fingers circled the rim of your entrance, slipping gently between your lips. You guided him back up to your awaiting mouth from his spot nuzzled in the valley of your breasts, where he'd taken his sweet time kissing and nipping at the swell of them.
His mouth latched onto yours, sucking at your lips and teasing you by grazing his teeth over them softly. You couldn't help but revel in the comfort and pleasure of his touch.
His finger eased smoothly into your slick entrance. Your walls drawing them in with an eager clench as a rush of pleasure washed over you, causing you to moan against him. His fingertip caressed against the certain spot deep inside of you.
You arched your back in ecstasy as he suddenly added another finger. He stretched you even further causing you to let out a pleasureful moan that made him pause and instantly detach from your lips.
Looking at you in disbelief, he couldn’t believe the sight before him, the way your hips began to hump against his hand, aiding to the pleasure coiling in the pit of your stomach.
You were absolutely breathtaking in your blissed-out state. His fingers stilled causing you to whine in frustration leaving you craving their pleasurable drag, in and out of your walls.
He sat up, pulling them from your weeping cunt to watch himself as he spread your arousal around your messy clit. You nodded your head profusely. "Don't stop..."
Your chest heaved, rising and falling in anticipation as he slipped his fingers back inside of you. His thighs were tensing beneath yours, trying his hardest not to grind against you, lost in his own pleasure.
That's when you felt him, your knees tightened around his hips as his cock started riding shamelessly against your inner thigh. You reached for his face, getting him to look back up at you as you caressed his jaw. "Please, Daryl... I need you-I need to feel you inside of me."
His fingers pulled back out from your entrance, popping them into his mouth, and licking them clean. Hoping to satisfy his craving of you with just a subtle taste of your sweet cunt.
He gripped at your waist, thumbs massaging circles against your hip-bones as he imagined tasting you straight from the source.
His lips were back on yours in seconds, hands pushing his boxers down franticly, and before you had the chance to catch your breath he'd already lined up at your entrance.
The head of his cock smeared in your slick as he teased you. He could feel your warmth soaking him as he let out a labored sigh, wishing he could just stuff you full.
He began slowly pushing into you and you clamp down on him. Your gasp turned more erratic and you fisted the sheets. Pulling them from your grasp, he reached out gripping your hand once you let out a soft hiss from the stretch of him.
"Relax sweetheart, we'll go slow."
He started carefully, squeezing your hand, he felt a subtle sting as your nails pierced through the skin on the back of his hand. A melody of whines slipped from between your lips, at the feeling of his cock, as it slid perfectly inside of your walls, as he entered himself inch by delicious inch.
He leaned forward, nose brushing against yours. As you both panted against each other, it kept you anchored to reality as he finally bottomed out inside of you with a deep groan.
Then he waited, for an agonizingly long time, before you gave him the go-ahead. Bucking your hips up, begging for more friction. He takes his time fucking into you, long and slow at first. Reaching so deeply with each thrust of his hips, causing you to gasp every time he bottomed out.
You withered and squirmed beneath him, moaning incoherent nonsense as he pinned you to the bed. Crying out as your orgasm built up at an aching speed.
His hips moved faster at the feeling of your walls relaxing around him, fitting his cock like a glove. You moaned and wrapped your legs tighter around his hips, he hooked the hinge of his arm under your knee. Lifting it up higher, so you could feel him reach deeper inside of you.
He let out a grunt against the crook of your neck. He couldn't see the way you took every inch of him, but he could hear it. The sticky squelching of your pliant little cunt being speared open for him, and fuck, he could feel it.
Hot, wet, and tight around him. Grinding your hips in rhythm with his, as noisy wet clicks filled the background noise. Embarrassingly loud, from how slick you'd become as he stuffed you full of him.
Hanging by a thread as you used your free hand to claw at his lower back, leaving angry red lines behind on his skin, as you held onto him desperately. He groaned at the pain and yet he enjoyed it. The feeling of being so close to you.
Your thighs opened wide for him, puffy lips spread and swollen, sensitive, aching clit peeking out from them, dragging against the hair at the base of him.
All of you, covered in a glossy sheen of your own juices, as a ring of arousal collected at the base of his cock, dripping onto his thighs. "Don't stop, m'gonna cum. Daryl, don't stop!"
You could feel the coil inside of you snap, a string of cries escaped your lips as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. The high-pitched whine of his name. His lips consumed yours as he thrusted into you riding out your orgasm.
The convulsing clench of your cunt was his downfall. His upper body collapsing on top of you as he moaned out your name, before painting your insides white, your womb becoming nice and full with the weight of his release.
Reaching back down, he cupped his balls, massaging them. Causing himself to cum even harder. He began whimpering against your ear, and his sloppy wet kisses left behind a trail of drool, as he kissed down the side of your neck.
The two of you remained connected for quite some time. Basking in the sex-filled atmosphere of his tent. Your labored breaths and the cooing of the mourning doves, was your lullaby.
The heat radiating from the man caging you on the cot was bliss. Even as your skin was covered in a sheer layer of moisture you didn't want him to move from his place on top of you.
Your breaths began to even out and the gentle kisses he was placing on your shoulders and neck became less frequent. He began to sit up, and you felt his softened member start to slip from inside you causing your hands to tighten on his body, stopping his retreat. He froze at the sudden movement, afraid he'd hurt you somehow.
"Not yet... just- just a few more minutes." You whispered, pulling him back down to lay on your chest. The full wait of him felt safe, comforting. It was like you'd finally found solace after months of living in fear.
His fingers played with your wild hair, lulling you to sleep. Your hands on his back, mindlessly began running over his jagged scars, causing him to shiver at your unfamiliar touch, but he didn't stop you.
As much as Daryl hated what his father had done to him as a child, and the disgust he felt when looking at the lifelong reminder, your gentle hands were a beautiful relief in comparison to his father’s cruel ones.
There were so many things about you that were beautiful, so many things he just wasn’t used to. He wondered if that’s why he must've turned you away so often.
How when you offered things to show your affection towards him; books, food, clothes, blankets, sometimes even just your thoughts and feelings, he'd turn you away.
It was weird for him to experience such kindness from people around him and when a beautiful girl, such as yourself, suddenly came along and did it all, without asking for anything in return, it scared him.
He expected that after a while you’d start asking things of him. Things he'd have a hard time being able to give you. Things like friendship and vulnerability, things that oftentimes led him to get taken advantage of.
And yet as you laid beneath him he found himself wanting to give you such things. Wanting to be the reason you smiled so brightly at him, or laughed so beautifully. He wanted to feel the caress of your hands anywhere and anytime he could have them.
He hadn’t realized what exactly made him so wary of you in the beginning, but he knew now. He knew that you brought to life a part of him that he thought had died, a long time ago, long before the world had even ended.
Long before his brother had convinced him they were weaknesses, and even longer before his father had tried to beat them out of him.
"Would ya' leave with me?" He asked unexpectedly.
"What?"
"If... When we 'ave ta leave. Would ya' come with me?"
His words took you by surprise. You hadn't really ever thought about leaving the farm. Not that there were many places to even run towards, but still, the thought of leaving behind everything you'd ever known scared you.
Yet, you also knew that the farm wouldn't be safe forever. You knew that one day you would have to leave, and whether it was now; with Daryl and his group, or later; with your father and sisters. That was the real question.
"I don't know. I think there's more to it." You said.
"Why's that?"
"I can't leave my family Daryl... but I also know that what we have here won't last forever, no matter how badly I wish it could." You could feel Daryl shift against you, leaning back to look up at you as you spoke.
"I'm worried that if we're out there on our own, my father won't be able to protect us all, no matter how badly he'd try." It hurt for you to admit it, but you weren't fool enough to not realize the truth.
"It would either make us learn how to protect each other or find others to protect us... and to tell you the truth, I don't know how many people are out there, that are worth protecting back..." You felt tears well up behind your eyes, as a hitch caught in your throat.
"Not like you... or Lori and Carl... or Glenn... Carol... I'm afraid that God might've dropped you all on our doorstep and my father is just too blind to see it."
Daryl wanted to laugh at the mention of God. "Ya' think God did all this?"
"I'd like to think he did something. Whether that be bring the dead back walking or sending you here. Either one puts a strain on my fathers pride." You teased.
Daryl sat up and this time you didn't stop him. You winced as you felt him disconnect from you and sighed as his hands ran softly over your hips. "'mazes me ya' still believe in God after everythin'"
"I've got to believe in something." You said smiling up at him. He laughed and shook his head.
As Daryl's eyes fixated on you, it was evident that his mind was lost in thought. He couldn't help but admire your unwavering faith in something as unreliable as God, even at a time like this.
In this apocalyptic world, it wasn't God who would shield you from the undead. It wouldn't be God who'd courageously plunge a knife into their skulls or valiantly fight to protect you from any danger, but rather Daryl.
He would willingly place himself between you and the snapping teeth of a walker or stand as a shield, to the menacing barrel of a gun, if it meant protecting your life.
Even in a world as cruel and tormenting as this one, he was determined to make sure you had a chance to experience just a little bit more time.
"Then believe in me..."
He looked at you, really looked at you this time.
"Don't waste y'er energy believin' in somethin' ya' don't even know will protect ya' or not... Not when m'here..."
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© ladywuvly please do not steal, copy, or translate any of my work onto other platforms!
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iaure · 2 months
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˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ d.......daryl dixon..........
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iaure · 2 months
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Wounds of the Earth
— by xis.lanyx
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iaure · 2 months
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maybe a silly question, but how do you pronounce your username? ^_^
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ my name is IAURE (ee are eh) !
╭◜◝ ͡ ◜◝ ╮ ૮Ꮚ ⑅ ´ ˘ ` Ꮚა. ( ꜆🥛꜀ ) . . ୨୧
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iaure · 2 months
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Hope you have a lovely Valentine's Day 💞☺️
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ thank you for such lovely words!!!!!!! i did not receive this at the time, between not getting notifications and because i was off on a holiday with my ram!! i hope your valentines day was splendid as well!!! ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა
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iaure · 2 months
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˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ i have not been receiving notifications for asks!!!!!!!!! i am so sorry, my flock!!!!!!! i came back to speak on the walking dead, only to find sweet messages and an entire paragraph on yandere godwyn (╥﹏╥) i shall get to all of your asks now!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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iaure · 3 months
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Happy holidays, muerte 💝 How are you doing?
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ my holidays were quite splendid! aside from work, the first of december was in fact the date my ram and i became official! he and i had known of each other some years, but reconnected and spent some days staying up late to speak with one another. but i do not complain! i care for him dearly, for he helps bear my burdens.
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iaure · 3 months
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please have a good day :)
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ i did, in fact, have a good day! i see every ask that comes in, and when i do get them, it often makes my day. i am sorry for not responding earlier, for having gone so absent. thank you for your well wishes !
zz ╭◜◝ ͡ ◜◝ ╮
⠀ ૮ Ꮚ◞ ˔ ◟Ꮚა ⠀
⠀⠀◟⠀ ͜ꔫ ͜ ◞
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iaure · 3 months
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Heya, you've been kind of quiet, I hope you're doing well!
<3, one of your Elden Ring anons
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ this was one of the earliest asks that came in when i went quiet, and i thought about it every day for two weeks. the idea that people care so much still floors me. especially since at the time i rarely wrote for elden ring; those on my blog who delight in elden ring seem to be the most vocal!!
thank you again, my sweet. i hope you see this.
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iaure · 3 months
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˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ i am at work, but i will spend some time answering long neglected asks! i shall begin work on the next dearest as well.
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