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ysoandi · 1 year

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An Understanding | Rick Grimes

(fem!reader)

Summary: After pulling a dangerous stunt in a run, Rick seeks to teach you a lesson.

Warnings: Smut, Dom!Rick, Rough Sex, Sub drop if you squint.

Word Count: 4.2K

You weren't running.

At least that's what you told yourself as you quickened your steps. No. You just needed to go back. Go back to the house. Before he catches up to you.

You'd made it to the porch. The house was silent, courtesy of Olivia taking Judith in. And you thanked your lucky stars that Carl was out. No doubt hanging around with Enid. You've never been more grateful in your life to have the kids out of the house.

Reaching for the door, you'd thought yourself lucky to have made it this far without him hounding on your back. You knew that you made a mistake today. A big one but you thought maybe he'd already gotten over it. Maybe he just went back to the armory, checking, making sure that everything was going back to its place. Maybe he'll just go on about his day. And maybe he'd come back to the house when you and the kids have already gone to bed. However, you weren't that fortunate.

A hand reached out, clasping tight around your arm and you closed your eyes as you felt him turn you towards him.

"Y/N," he hissed, face close to yours, his breath fanning out on your cheek, "What the heck was that?"

You didn't bother saying anything. That would turn out to be another mistake. It seemed that today was going to be filled with a lot of those.

"Answer me," you opened your eyes to see his chest moving fast, like a bull who has a matador within his sight. And there you were with your silence, red as you waved it in front of him. His frustration grew and when he saw you weren't going to answer anytime soon, he dragged you into the house.

You blinked and found yourself pushed against the wall.

"What the hell were you thinking? Pulling a stunt like that? Huh?" You shut your eyes, remembering what happened on the run.

You'd all went to a shopping centre that Glenn had scouted before. With no sight of a big number of walkers, you'd all made a run there in the hopes of finding whatever you can find. Diapers, formula, antibiotics, gauze. So many things needed, so little the chance of finding them was. But you'd held out hope.

It was expected to not find all you wanted but you still looted a decent amount of stuff. You'd gone into the pharmacy, jumping over the countertop and tried to find anything useful. Rick had been across from you, inside a clothing store. And when you saw him lift a small dress, a frilly orange thing, your heart had clenched at the sight.

You forced yourself not to stare, moving your attention to the shelves in front you. You had no idea what you were grabbing but you gathered all you can take in a plastic bag you found lying on the side.

You were pushing the heavily filled bag to the other side of the counter when you heard it. The sound of the unmistakable growls of walkers. It was coming from behind you and once you turned around you found more than half a dozen of those dead ones. That probably was the moment when the reality of the situation had set in for you. Where had they come from? Glancing behind them, you saw the open storage room door. How long had they been there for?

You'd grabbed your knife, the handle cool against your palm, when Daryl shouted,

"Y/N!"

You didn't turn back, but instead took a step towards the walker closest to you and thrust your knife in that small spot in-between the eyes. More came out of that damned storage room, and it was like being dunked into cold water. There were too many. You couldn't take them all. And neither could the rest.

And that's when you made a decision.

Turning back, you looked up at the metal shutters. You'd bumped your head into them when you stood up after jumping over the counter but now you were glad. Because now you knew what to do.

You reached over, arms straining to grab the shutters. Rick had dropped the dress, making his way over to you, machete in hand, the rest following close behind but there's no need. You'll make sure to give them a chance.

Not able to deny yourself one last look, you let a small smile stretch across your face. And Rick's eyes widened as if just now realising what you wanted to do, jaw going slack and that's when you pulled.

The heavy clang of the metal was loud in the small space behind the counter. It only helped in cementing the walkers' attention to you if it weren't already but that was the plan. So it was fine. Everything was fine. You didn't plan on dying. Quickly that is. At least not without a fight.

You were readying yourself, planning on lunging towards the first walker to get close enough when you saw it. A cramped little window, just above one of the shelving units on the left side. That's when a small thing unfurled within you. You didn't dare call it hope yet but it got you moving, darting towards the other side, hands gripping the shelves as you began to climb. You heard the groans behind you, worryingly close but you were nudging the window now, pushing it open.

The shelving unit began to shake as the walkers pushed their weight forward. The window slid forward and you wedged your way through the opening. It was a tight fit but nothing that a bit of wiggling couldn't solve. One last push through and you were out, panting on the ground, the asphalt hard and hot beneath your palms. It felt like your heart was trying to carve its way out of your chest.

When your breathing had settled down, you stood up. You weren't far from the gate. The window had led you on the other side of the shopping centre and now you had to make your way to it again.

Walking around, you shook away the remnants of fear. The shaking of your hands, the shudder running down your back. No. It wouldn't do to be afraid. The worst was over. Hopefully.

You'd turned around the corner and found them. Right in front of the gate, clustered together, murmuring amongst themselves. You got closer and saw Rick holding a hand to his face, expression hidden from you but whatever it was that he was hearing from Glenn had him shaking his head. You could practically see the agitation, stringing his back straight. He looked ready to implode. Daryl was at his back, crossbow in his hands as his eyes flitted between the men.

However, when you got closer, finally within their sights, Sasha was the first to notice. Her eyes widened when she saw you. Her arms going limp, the gun lowering, and then she was running.

"Y/N!" She threw her arms around you and you found yourself leaning into the comfort provided. When you looked up, you found Rick already looking at you. And you almost took a step back at seeing the expression on his face.

The rest of the group had welcomed you back, giving hugs and occasional pats to the shoulder but Rick didn't even come close. When things had settled down and their surprise and happiness has turned into relief at your survival, Rick has just shook head, his jaw tightening before turning away.

He wasn't happy. But he was alive. That's what matters.

The group had noticed the absence of a reunion between you and Rick. And soon enough you were all walking back to Alexandria in silence. When you reached the gate, you hoped that Rick would be too busy with anything for the rest of the day. You hoped that you'd be granted reprieve. However, it seems there were other things planned for you.

The hands around your arms tightened and your were brought back to the present.

"Open your goddamn eyes, y/n," he let out. You looked at him and you thought you could almost cut yourself on the sharp line of his jaw, "You wanna tell me what that was back there?"

You don't know what happened in that moment. Was it the fact that you felt his body pressed up against you, chest to chest? Or was it the little pants he let out between each word as if it was physically exhausting to hold himself back? Whatever it was, it had that tiny thing in your lower tummy unfold. Pulsating. Wanting to spread its warmth until all you could feel is the need and nothing else.

"It was the right thing to do, Rick," You were surprised at how steady your voice sounded, "The only way. Carl and Judith can't lose you. And if it was you or me that had to get out. I'd always choose you."

"You can't fucking do that, y/n," Rick pressed closer and oh. You were so wet, it was like a fucking waterfall between your legs. You wondered if he noticed that, how much you wanted him. And when you shifted, you became aware of his need pressing against your thigh. "It's not your fucking decision to make."

"And who's gonna stop me, Rick?" You raised a hand to his chest, feeling the strength of the muscles that lay beneath his shirt, feeling the hammering of his heart beat. Maybe it wasn't the anger that had his heart kicking into overdrive. "You?"

"Yes," he hissed and your faces were that much closer. All you had to do to take his lips was stand on your toes. But you didn't. Not yet. A moment passed. You stared into each other's eyes. You wondered what he saw in them because you felt him almost take a step back, his shoulders lowering. But then it was like you'd been imagining things. Rick pressed so deliciously close to, body tight against you, and sealed his lips over yours.

And it was good.

So good in fact it had you gushing. Your insides melting like he'd just lit them on fire. And it was like he sensed it too, sensed that burning inside of you because before you knew it his tongue was rolling in your mouth, pushin in.

You weren't sure how long it was but when he pulled back your head was full of cotton. Hazy. It took a while for you to remember what you were arguing about in the first place.

"You think you can just go on and do things on your own? Think you can leave me behind?" His thigh was pressed between your legs, and you groaned, hips moving forward, humping down on his knee. You were staring at him, forced to witness the anger in his eyes. Anger at you. It was when Rick pushed you back, pinning you againt the wall, halting you from finding any release that you realised he was expecting an answer.

"I did it for you, Rick," You let out, a whine making its way out of your throat. You were getting desperate now. For him to understand you or for him to let you continue rolling your pussy on his knee you didn't know.

"I don't care if it was for me. Don't ever do that," He pressed in closer, his hands keeping your arms by your side, "I can't lose you, y/n," his voice didn't break but the distress at the idea of you being in danger again was clear.

"Do you understand me, y/n?"

"Yes," You breathed out and he groaned as if he was hurt, as if you'd taken a shot at him before pressing his lips to yours, sucking hard at them. You were sure by the end of this they'd be puffed up and swollen red from the attention.

His hands landed on your face, holding you to him and you groaned once one of them gripped at your hair, tight, pulling your head back. You let out a soft cry as he bit down at your neck, sucking and licking a path down to your collarbone. This was good. It was numbing. It made your head empty, no thoughts whatsoever except for the feeling of his hand, lips and tongue on you.

At feeling the hard bulge pressed against your hip, you reached a hand down, fingers fumbling with his belt before you pulled down his zipper. Rick groaned once you palmed him through his briefs, pulling back to look at you.

"Pull me out, y/n," he let out and you did just that. Pulling his cock out until it lay heavy and red in your palm. You looked down and felt yourself get wetter at the thought of him all hard because of you.

"You see what you do to me?" His breath fanned your cheek and you nodded almost absentmindedly, mind still too focused on the weight of his cock in your hand, "Then take some fucking responsibility for it."

Rick bared his teeth, hands turning you around until your cheek was pressed against the wall. You let out an ugly squawk at the sudden shift that quickly turned to a moan when he got in close, dick pressed in close to where you want it. You could feel yourself seeping through, pussy pulsing hot as slick soaked your panties. Pushing back, you tried to hold in a whine as he rolled his hips, grinding into you.

"You feel that, Y/N?" You nodded your head, frantic pants leaving you. "This is what you do to me, sweetheart."

His hand slid down your chest, slipping between the vee of your thighs, leaving trails of fire in its wake.

"Riiick," You drawled out, back arched, willing him to touch you where you needed. His fingers opened the button of your pants and you couldn't help trying to buck into him, nudge your wet pussy into his palm. But that was the wrong course of action it seemed as his other hand fisted into your hair.

"Aaaah," a whine was pulled out of you.

"I need you to be good for me, y/n," Rick breathed out behind your ear, the hand closest to your cunt stilling. "You hear me?" And maybe it was the hint of desperation in his voice that made you nod your head, eager to please him.

"Good girl."

That's all it took for you to melt into his embrace like putty. The hand that gripped your hair soon let go as it busied itself with getting rid of your shirt. When the relentless buttons refused to give in under his careless ministrations, that's when his other hand came up and joined the first into ripping your shirt off.

It was a beautiful day outside and as the buttons of your shirt pitter-pattered on the floor, you thought maybe it could've even been a great day to spend in the garden. But here you were instead. Face pushed against the wall, moments away from a rough fucking.

"Rick," You let out, mourning your shirt as its tatters hung limply around your arms and waist.

"Hush now," His voice was rough, and you're sure if you could turn around and look at him, you'd see his eyes darkened, the blue overtaken by his lust, "I'll have Carol sew it together later."

It was hard to argue after that when his hand cupped your tits, the weight of them filling his palm. He squeezed one of them and you groaned, eyes shut at the firm pressure.

"You ain't never gonna leave me like that, y/n," a hand trailed down your navel until it was stopped by the waist of your jeans. He was panting in your ears as if he'd been running a mile before he stood behind you. "Not again. Not ever," He slid his fingers beneath the strap- finally. You shut your eyes, at feeling your wetness gladly drip into his palm. It hurt. It burnt. You needed him to douse the flames that were currently licking up your deepest insides.

You ground into his fingers, smearing your slick all over them, trying to find your release but the hand on your tit reached to grip your jaw. Firm.

"Stay still, y/n."

You ignore him, grabbing the hand that's down your panty and pushing it closer to your cunt. It felt good. Like a salve. Like you were hurting deep down in your pussy and this man who was heaving behind you - as if he was under the heaviest of weights - could just make it feel better instead.

But your relief was short lived.

"Ah," your breath punched out of you.

Your cheek was pushed against the wall. Again. This time the sweat almost making you slide down. You felt pinpricks, his hand fisted impossibly tight in your hair. Holding you still. Holding you close.

The hand in your pants left, and instead grabbed yours, both of them. You shut your eyes at the thought of the bruises that were going to undoubtedly show up. He raised your arms up.

"I said. Stay. Still," he was close. His lips brushing your ear, breath hot. Rick took each one of your palms, pushing them against the wall and let go. When your arms fell. He grabbed them and shoved them against the wall again. It didn't take long for you to understand the message.

Brace yourself.

"You ain't gonna be cummin' on my fingers," Rick growled out. "You don't fuckin' deserve it," His hand slid down back to its place, nestled between your folds. "I'm gonna make sure that everything's alright down here," a long finger pushes inside of you, breaching until it stop at the knuckle.

"That this pussy can take me and once I'm sure, I'm gonna fuck you against this wall," your breaths were becoming faster, excited at the lovely picture appearing in your mind. "And when I'm done, maybe you'll have learnt your lesson."

A whine rips itself out of your throat. An unbearable sadness wells up inside of you. Why doesn't he understand? Why doesn't he get why you've done what you've done? Tears burn your eyes. And at the feeling of a second finger joining the first inside you, you can feel it build up. The burning wave that wants to crest over. You try your best to stay still but your hips betray you every once in a while, twitching back down on the thrusting fingers.

You hold your tears back but then two becomes three inside of your cunt. And that blue sadness gets washed over by that toe-curling white pleasure, mingling with each other until all you can do is try not to drown in it.

You're close now. Rick knows it too. You're clenching down on him, wrestling to keep him there but he pulls out nonetheless. Your chest is rising and falling, the thrumming of your blood a loud white noise in your ear. Your cunt throbs, aching at the emptiness.

The metal of Rick's belt buckle reach your ears and that's when you notice he's breathing as hard as you. You feel the soft flutter of your jeans and panties against your skin as he drags it down to your knees, leaving it there. He presses close to you, the hardness between his legs against the crack of your ass cheeks. Your eyes feel dry when you open them again.

"Rick."

He grunts, his hips snapping against you. You turn your head, slightly, making sure he's looking at you. He is. And despite thinking that Rick looks like he wants to fight, you say, "I'm not sorry," His eyes darken, a snarl lifts the corner of his lip. You'd probably be worried at the expression if it currently didn't feel like your body was in heat.

Keeping your eye on him, you continue, "I never will be."

He bares his teeth at you for a second and you're sure he's gonna eat you. You're certain. But Rick just presses against you. His clothed chest against your back, the buttons of his shirt rough against your skin. His fingers move to your face, squeezing themselves between your lips, forcing their way in. You can taste yourself on them, salty, slick. The smell making you heady.

"I haven't been trying enough, y/n," His other hand fists against his cock, brushing the back of your thigh. "And that's my fault. So I guess I'll just have to teach you your place," the head pushes past your entrance and you gasp, the stretch still causing a delicious burn despite his efforts at opening you up. "Every fucking day," he thrusts, the length of him pushed inside of you completely.

You can hear babbling and it takes you a second to realize it was coming from you.

"Shut up, y/n," He gave another thrust, his fingers - thick and calloused - drove deeper into your mouth, almost reaching the back of your throat. "Don't fucking talk back."

You were drooling, the spit leaking out your mouth after finding nowhere to be with Rick's fingers in your mouth. The sound of slapping skin filled the house. Loud. Obscene.

You were getting close now. You could feel it, heating up your gut, wanting to spread its way through your body. You wished you could touch yourself. But Rick was a heavy weight pressing against your back, preventing you from sliding your hand to where you want it to be.

The thrusts were brutal. Their pace only pushing you closer and closer to that equisiteness you knew was ready to wash over you.

"-iick—" you chocked around his fingers.

"Yeah, I know, y/n," Rick panted against your shoulder. "You're gripping me tight down there," his thrusts slowed down, turning into grinds instead - delicious deep strokes that you could almost feel in your guts. "But the only way you're cumming," Rick pulled back from you. "Is on my cock." He drove in hard and it was like all thoughts had dissipated from your head. He built up that pace again, his hips smacking against your ass.

Rick's shirt stuck to your back, your sweat melding it to you. Your cunt was burning. Set ablaze. It felt like you'd accidentally smacked it against the corner of a table. Those flames were rising up, quickly. And before you knew it, your legs were spasming out, your nerves singing as hot sparks spread through your body.

"Aaaah," your moans were long. Needy. Your bones have turned to jelly. The weight of them becoming impossible for you to bear on your own. But that didn't stop Rick. Instead his thrusts have picked up their speed. Slamming in and out of you, having your eyes roll back, almost in a trance. The slaps of your cunt have turned wet, the gush of your pussy only making it easier for him.

He was close. You could feel it. You could sense the desperation fueling him. Making him seek his pleasure. Your mouth was empty, chin shining with spit. His hands were on either side of your own, entangling with them as he pushed you against the wall until it felt like you couldn't breath.

Rick gave one final thrust and pulled out. Hot spurts of his cum landed on your ass, dripping down. You lamented the loss. Later on, when you've regained the higher functions of your brain, you'll give the man a deep kiss for his careful thinking.

But now you couldn't even pull your legs beneath you to walk. Rick had fucked that ability out of you. So you stayed there — both of you, against the wall, heaving for your breaths. Your sweat has matted your hair to your forehead. For a moment, you were certain that your body was stuck to the wall. But when Rick pulled away, pulling you with him, your body had simply peeled away like a wrapper off a candy.

Rick was silent.

You stumbled against him and his strong arms lifted you up. You could only close your eyes and lean back on his chest.

When you had opened your eyes again, you were laying on your stomach, naked. Rick was kneeling beside the bed, cleaning you up with a warm towel. You stared, admiring the profile of his face. He rubbed circles into your skin, his hands gentle. So unlike their previous treatment of you. Rick didn't look at you. Not yet. But you were patient.

"You're part of this family, y/n," his hands finished with the towel, setting it aside. Blue eyes snapped to yours. "You know that, right?" Your heart ached at seeing him so lost. So confused. So hurt at the mere idea.

You gave a small nod. Not quite trusting your voice. Rick looked away.

"I can't lose you, y/n," his voice strained. "I can't." His hand found yours and you squeezed him tightly. Offering what comfort you can give. "We can't lose you. Not me. Not Carl. Not Judith. Do you understand?"

"Yes," you croaked out, voice unadjusted.

Rick looked back at you. And you were filled with such sudden affection towards the man. This man who knelt in front of you with fear in his eyes. Fear for you.

"I understand now, Rick."

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a-writer-on-elm-street · 2 years

Text

No Such Luck

Pairing: Negan x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Negan have been living in an abandoned house for a few days now and you finally convince him to help you spruce the place up a bit.

Prompt: "Just pound the nail into the wall." "I'll pound you into the wall."

Warning: Some strong language.

A/N: This is an AU where Negan never became the leader of The Sanctuary. Also, there's like a half makeout scene in this but part of it might be like really inaccurate because I've never written about anything more than light kissing lol.

You'd been on the road with Negan for at least four months now, and it had been about four weeks since you both moved into this abandoned house together.

At first, Negan was strongly against the idea of living in a house together. In fact, his exact words were, "I'd rather fuck you under the stars than under a goddamn roof". Obviously he didn't actually mean that, he was just so clearly repulsed by the idea of being all domestic with you.

But eventually, after a hell of a lot of persuasion, he finally caved and picked the first house you came aross to break into.

Now, you were standing in front of him, a plank of wood pathetically hanging from your arms as you asked for his help.

He sighed, watching you from where he sat on the old couch. "You're jokin', right?"

"Negan, there's a fucking hole in the wall." You complained, pointing towards the decent sized hole that was currently acting as a window to the outside.

"It's not like we're in any danger."

"Negan, please."

"Fine." He huffed, finally standing up and walking over to you.

He took the plank from you and put it up against the wall, covering the hole. And then you picked up the hammer and nails that you'd found in the kitchen, and you started hammering the wood to the wall.

Although when you got to the second nail, it was proving to be a little difficult to actually get it into the wall.

Negan sighed, clearly annoyed that you were taking so long. "Just pound the nail into the wall."

"I'll pound you into the wall." You fired back, continuing to bring the hammer down on the nail.

"Well if you're offering." He joked, his hand coming up to brush along your hip.

"Negan, I'm trying to concentrate."

"So hurry up then."

You tried your hardest to ignore him as you hammered the third nail into the wood. But you were having no such luck as you felt him moving behind you, his hands still braced against the wood as he breathed against your neck.

You hastily moved onto the final nail, not even bothering to check it was properly in the wood before bringing the hammer down on it. And all the while Negan was still pressed up behind you, his hot breath in your ear as he watched what you were doing over your shoulder.

The nail wasn't even fully hammered down before you dropped the hammer, spinning around to meet Negan in a sloppy kiss.

His hands quickly found their way into your hair as he pulled you closer to him. And you couldn't help the quiet moan that escaped your mouth when you felt his tongue slide against your own.

"I hate you." You whispered when you pulled back to look at him.

He smirked before slipping his hands up your shirt. "I know."

[Main Masterlist] [Negan Masterlist]

TAG LIST: @neganswoman @harrysthiccthighss

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mushrubes · 1 year

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The walking dead masterlist

Masterlist | Prompts

Key -

❀ - Fluff

✮ - Angst

❦ - Most popular

I - Imagines

P - Preferences

S - Series

H - Headcannons

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Daryl Dixon -

- Compass (i) - ❀

- The beach (s) - ❀ - 1 | 2 | 3

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Rick Grimes -

- Faint (i) - ❀

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Carl Grimes-

- none yet

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Shane Walsh -

- none yet

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Glenn Rhee -

- none yet

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Michonne -

- none yet

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Maggie Greene -

- none yet

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Negan Smith -

- none yet

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

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feral4daryl · 5 months

Text

masterlist || MDNI

sweet scent.

perv!daryl x fem!reader

summary: while looking for his crossbow around the house, daryl ends up finding a pile of your dirty clothes and... used panties of yours. and when no one's looking, he decides to have some fun with them.

warnings: EXTREME AGE GAP (daryl is in his late 30s/early 40s and reader is 18), not entirely proofread, smut, mean!daryl sort of, corruption kink, daryl being an absolute pervert, panties sniffing, daddy kink, masturbation, cussing, daryl imagining himself doing the dirtiest things to you (unprotected p-in-v, squirting, face fucking, praising, loss of virginity, cunnilingus and i think that's pretty much it)

word count: 2.8k

a/n: please proceed with caution, this piece of work portrays a few extreme or unusual fetishes, so if you're not comfortable with any of those i've listed above please do not ready this. the idea that inspired this work originally belongs to @dilfsandmartinis.

if there was something daryl absolutely hated, it was the feeling of uselessness.

since andrea had mistaken him for a walker and shot him from afar, grazing his head, useless was exactly how he felt, having to lay down on a bed the whole day and night, doing absolutely nothing but be left alone with his own thoughts. and oh, what a disgraceful fate.

everytime he wasn't focused on hunting, fighting or surviving in general, the farmer's sweet younger daughter flooded his mind. your hair, your face, your stupidly adorable sundresses, everything about you was so... distracting.

daryl wasn't ever the kind of guy to simp for a woman, but that one specific girl made him feel emotions and sensations that were hidden deep within his being for years, maybe even decades. feelings he thought had vanished from his heart a long time ago were now blooming all over again, like he was some stupid teenager looking at a playboy magazine for the first time.

there was something about your innocence, your adorable mannerisms, your sweet voice and your kindness that had awakened something in him, something he wasn't quite sure what it was.

no, he wasn't exactly a young man. and while being aware that you were very young, he couldn't help but feel so guilty for having those feelings. whenever you bended over to pick something up, he had to fight demons not to have a glimpse of your panties. he often wondered how could you be so careless by exposing yourself like that, even if you didn't do it on purpose.

and there was him again, thinking about you. it's like no matter how hard he tried to push those thoughts away, they were like water, always finding a way in.

he huffed, feeling defeated. he knew he was still recovering from the incident, and that he should rest, but why was he following orders around anyways? he wasn't a damn puppy. plus, everybody else had left him there to go looking for sophia. he wanted to be able to help too. he was alive after all, and if he was alive, he believed he should be on his feet.

so that's what he did. he slowly lifted his right foot, resting it on the floor, then he did the same with his left one. his body reluctantly lifted itself up, and he immediately could feel the consequences for laying down for so long, his back killing him and his vision a bit foggy. anyways, he ignored any discomfort and started walking slowly, his head still a little dizzy.

then, he remembered he needed his trustworthy crossbow, he couldn't just leave unprotected like that. he looked around the room he was settled in but it was nowhere to be seen. he knew it was still in the house, so he left the room. he started walking down the corridor, his eyes attentively looking for any signs of his crossbow. he was even starting to think that his mates might've hidden it to force him to stay in the house when he spotted a halfway open door.

his calloused hands pulled it open, revealing a small bedroom, all pink themed and stupidly decorated. no, his crossbow wasn't likely to be there, it just looked like it belonged to one of hershel's daughters, but it was like something was calling him in.

he stepped in the room and it almost looked messy. the dressing table on the corner had lipsticks, combs, all sorts of make-up and girly stuff all piled up and... a perfume.

it was happening again, images of you flooded his mind and it was like he could almost smell you. oh, your sweet scent had the power to make him hard like nothing else. just by looking at that small bottle, just by imagining your scent, he could feel little shock waves travelling all the way down to his cock, threatening to awaken it.

he knew it was wrong, so fucking wrong thinking about a much younger girl like that. and it was even worse considering that you were the daughter of the man that provided him shelter in such difficult times. it felt ungrateful.

when he saw you for the first time, he didn't think much of you. he was actually careful, treating you like the stranger you were. and even when time passed, he never really got close to you. now and then you tried to share a word, even if just a little bit, but it seemed useless since he would reject all your attempted approaches. he didn't hate you like he tried to after acknowledging his disgusting desires for you, but he just couldn't allow himself to interact with a girl that made him sick to his stomach for all the wrong reasons.

your sweetness was almost annoying. the entire world had gone to shit, for goodness sake! dead bodies walking around and eating all the people they could find. how could you act so clueless all the time? daryl even wondered if you had ever seen a walker before, if you knew what was really happening out there. after all, it was very obvious that you were a daddy's girl, always protected under your father's wing.

but strangely enough, acknowledging that only made him protective towards you. he was always somewhat watching, always around you making sure you were safe and he barely knew why, he just felt like he should.

so he didn't stop himself from reaching over to your small perfume bottle. the design was very simple, no labels to be seen, time had probably faded it away. the cap was baby pink and heart shaped, and when he removed it, he immediately brought the bottle to his nose, giving it a gentle sniff.

fuck.

now, he was 100% sure that was your room. the fragrance was the same one that filled his nose and made him drunk in you everytime you walked by. he wondered if that was the scent he would feel if he ever hugged you, burying his face into your chest.

in that moment, he couldn't think about anything else, not rick, not carol, not his chores, not surviving, not even sophia. you were everything that he had in his fucked up mind.

he wouldn't feel so fucking guilty if his thoughts were only about your innocence and sweetness, but they were also dirty as fuck. countless were the times when daryl imagined groping you, running his hands all over your delicate body, feeling every texture, squeezing every junk and listening close to your every little whimper. he would pull your hair, gently at first, just to get it off your face and neck so he could pamper them with little wet kisses, gently scratching his teeth along them. he imagined he'd have to keep you on your feet himself, since you'd struggle to because of how weak your knees would get at all the sensations he would provide you and...

wait, no.

what was he thinking? was he out his fucking mind? he needed to stop those absolutely disgusting thoughts right away. he couldn't keep having those thoughts about you, not when you're out taking care of such important business with the others. he put the perfume bottle back on the dressing table, determined to let all that go. he knew he couldn't just let himself get so distracted like that over something so mundane and unimportant as his own sexual desires but then...

...he spotted a basket filled with clothes when he turned around to leave. his mind immediately started to rush all over again, and for the 100th time that day, he turned careless. he slowly approached it. shorts, tops, pants and so on could be seen at the top of the pile.

in that moment, he had totally forgot why he had entered that bedroom or even left his bed in the first place. he couldn't even remember the existence of his crossbow or his duties.

and then... he gets an idea. he starts going through the pile of dirty clothes and in no time, he finds your panties. they were white with a pink ribbon on the front, a clear reminder of your innocence. for a moment, he just looks at it, contemplating the possibilities. then, he remembers seeing you in it when you bended over to pick some off the floor the day before. he remembers catching a glimpse of it under your yellow sundress when you went to change his bandage.

that meant that those panties had been freshly worn.

if just your perfume ignited such vile desires in him, he couldn't even imagine what your natural scent could do to him. and he was oh so curious to find out. he still felt guilty, but that man had been sex deprived for so fucking long, he didn't even masturbate very often. he knew damn well he was about to commit a big mistake, maybe even starting something he was sure he couldn't finish, but he finally made up his mind.

he flips the small piece of cloth over, eyeing the soft-looking lining of the panties. he gulps, feeling his mouth water right away. god, what was he doing? what was right, what was wrong wasn't even important to him anymore. he just wanted to embrace his sickness.

there was a small stain on the lining, probably from you wearing it. just that sight alone was enough to get him off, and once again, he found himself having to face that tingling sensation inside his pants. he knew damn well what that meant and what was about to happen. but honestly, he couldn't give a single fuck anymore.

in one quick motion, he brought the fabric to his face, giving a long sniff while he rolled his eyes to the back of his head. that fucking scent of yours got him drunk the moment it filled his nostrils. so intense, so feminine and raw, daryl couldn't remember the last time he felt that type of pleasure, or if he had even felt anything like it before.

it made him needy like a horny teenager. he felt himself going back to puberty when all he could think about was jacking off day and night. and it was all your fucking fault.

daryl palmed himself through his denim pants, never taking your panties off his face not even for one second. the natural scent of your cunt was more than successful to make him hard as a rock, the sensation of being in his pants started to get uncomfortable as his dick grew bigger and bigger.

just palming himself wasn't enough.

he slowly unbuttoned his pants and unzipped them, inserting one of his hand in his briefs to catch his hard cock in it, freeing it for the first time in a while. his angry-red tip was literally pulsating while a clear and sticky liquid dropped down his length.

he wasn't able to hold a small grunt as he wrapped his calloused hand around his cock, the rough sensation of his fingers causing him to feel a jolt of pleasure so fucking delicious and guilty at the same time. the archer brought his hand to his mouth, catching some of his saliva to use as lube.

oh, how he wished you were there. he'd make sure you'd get his cock nice and wet with your spit so you could rub it up and down. and then, without warnings, he'd just shove it down your throat, forcing you to prove how much of a good girl you could be just for him.

and just for him. he wanted you all for his own. daryl never really liked to share, specially when it came to a girl like you, so princess like, so adorable looking. your plump lips looked so fucking perfect, and they would look even more wrapped around his big cock.

knowing how fragile you were, he knew you would definitely choke and gag on him, struggling to fit all of him in your mouth. he would whisper sweet encouragement words to you like “tha's it, tha's ma good girl”. he imagined how he would hold your head in place and keep a hand on your throat so he could feel his cock while he aggressively pumped it in and out, making you drool all over him. “just like tha', yeah, show daddy how fuckin' good ya are fer him”.

in his imagination, you would look up at him with those big doe eyes of yours, with a mix of uncertainty and desire to make him proud. “am i doing this right, daddy?” he could almost hear your voice saying it whenever you would take him off his mouth to catch your breath for a moment, never disconnecting your small hand from his thick length.

he started pumping faster, squelching sounds were all that could be heard in that silent room, a proof of his degeneracy. the grunts and stifled moans were only getting harder and harder to hold back. he was sticking those panties to his face and sniffing on them like his life depended on it, like he was a desperate virgin.

a virgin. he wondered if you were one. you sure looked like it, your dad never let you out of sight for long enough for you to try something like that, he supposed from what he knew about your relationship. he imagined how would it feel like to be the one to pop your cherry for the first time.

oh, he would teach you so many things, everything he knows. he would guide you through it all along, teaching you where to touch, where to kiss, where to lick. he would make your virgin little cunny cum so many times it would get all puffy and red. he even wondered if he could make you squirt, stuffing you with his fingers, brushing against your sweet spot over and over again until you were a quivering mess, squirting all over his skull tattoo. and yes, he would make you lick his fingers clean, your sweet little tongue dragging across them, and then, he would kneel down in front of you, not wanting to waste a single drop of your sweet release, attacking your sensitive clit and slit with his lips and tongue.

fuck, fuck, fuck.

he was so fucking eager to taste your slick, to revel in your salty taste. he imagined how fucking good the smell he was getting from your panties was from the actual source. he would lick it all, your lips, your slit, even your ass, but he would give special attention to your little clit, flicking his tongue on it, making it cum again just for him. he would never grow tired of it.

and when he felt you were finally ready for him, he would bend you over just like you used to do so absentmindedly. he would be gentle at first, but knowing himself, he knew he wouldn't be able to hold himself back for too long before absolutely railing the shit out of you, making you cry out and scream his name in pleasure and pain.

and when he flipped you over on your back, he would be able to see the bulge on your lower belly caused by his big cock inside you. just by imagining that he felt himself getting close to the edge. he would press his hand on it, making the little room inside your pussy even tighter. fuck, he imagined the sweet sounds you would make just for him.

all those dirty thoughts and your sweet scent from your panties were more than enough to make shivers run down his spine and his whole body tremble. he kept his eyes shut tight as he licked a stripe on the lining of your panties, trying to get some of your delicious taste. meanwhile, he hadn't stopped his hands not even for a second, harshly rubbing his cock up and down until it was too much.

in a strangled moan, his cock started shooting spurt after spurt of thick cum onto the floor, the dressing table and pretty much anything that was around. he couldn't remember the last time he had such an intense orgasm, the sensation making his mind completely empty except for your image.

his movements got slower until they stopped and he let go of his now sensitive cock. he sighed after catching his breath. he was left with that afterglow and the feeling that he made a huge mistake. suddenly, he felt dirty like before. he opened his eyes slowly, removing your panties from his face and putting them in his pockets. yeah, he knew it was wrong, but he was still planning to keep them for later.

then, when he averted his gaze to the mirror on his side, he saw...

you. standing on the doorframe with a shocked look on your face.

“u-uncle daryl?”

[PART TWO]

a/n: i know, i'm disgusting. i'm sorry. (just a quick reminder, english isn't my first language, so please excuse any grammar mistakes or awkward phrasing lmao, and tysm if you read it this far)

6K notes · View notes

lanadelnegan · 8 months

Text

My Girl

S7!Negan x Reader

Requested from anon: hey! loving the blog and every story you post! i was wondering if you’d do a story of a reader’s first time being with S7 Negan who is an asshole at first but then goes soft because he accidentally made her cry??

OOOH I'm gonna have some FUN with this one. And thank you so much <3.

Summary: Rick's oldest daughter, y/n, loses her virginity to Negan.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, virgin first time, vaginal sex, daddy-kink, age-gap (reader is 18, negan is 40), Rick walks in on Negan eating you out.. (twice), degrading language, mushy romantic Negan, Negan fucks you in nothing but his leather jacket

A/N: This is my favorite fic I have written by far and I hope you love it as much as I do cuz I am obsessed.

"Carl, take your sisters upstairs and don't come down until I say it's safe." I lift Judith out of her high chair and follow Carl up the stairs.

Our dad has always treated us like Carl's the older one, even though he's two years younger than me, but I don't mind. If anything, it takes some of the pressure off of being big sis all the time.

I hear Negan's voice booming in the distance as my dad opens the door to head back outside. This has become part of our weekly routine at this point. Negan and his men went from monthly visits to weekly visits over the past couple months, but I don't mind that either.

The more I get to see him, the merrier.

I move the bedroom curtains slightly, peeking through my window until my eyes find Negan standing in the street in front of our house. I'm able to make out what they're saying if I listen closely enough.

"Rickyyy, I missed ya. Where's that sweet daughter of yours hiding? .....The older one of course." I can't stop the grin that appears on my face when he asks about me.

"This isn't about her. Get what you need, and leave." My dad stands firmly planted with his hands on his hips and my eyes roll at his attitude. Maybe if my dad would just be civil with Negan all of this could stop. I revert my gaze back to Negan.

"Now, Prick, you know I can't leave without seeing my girl."

His girl... The butterflies in my stomach flutter at the sound of that.

"Why are you so obsessed with him?" Carl asks rudely from across the room while holding Judith and bouncing her so she doesn't cry.

I quickly glare at Carl before turning my gaze back towards the window. When I look back down, Negan is looking up at me, a knowing smirk playing at his lips. I can't look away, and he lets his gaze linger a little too long as well, prompting my dad to look at my window. I quickly drop the curtain and back away.

"Take Judith to her room and put her down for her nap." I instruct Carl. He stares at me suspiciously. "Go! What did I just say?" I snap impatiently. He shakes his head but ultimately leaves.

"You're always so weird when he comes around." He says under his breath. I close my door behind them and go back to the window, peeking again, but this time everyone's gone. I rush to go see what's going on, but as soon as I swing my door open and run out, I crash into a tall, solid figure. My eyes widen as I look up at the man in the leather jacket.

"Hey, doll. Miss me?"

"Uh - I - where's my dad?" I stutter nervously, peaking around him.

"Busy getting supplies for me. He'll be busy for the next hour, so I thought I'd come keep you company."

Negan's been visiting Alexandria for months now, and each time he comes, our talks get longer and flirtier. Well, he flirts with me and I pretend to be annoyed, mostly so others don't think I like him. If they only knew how much I think about his beard between my legs.

There's something about him that intrigues me.. fascinates me even. I'm ashamed to admit I've even touched myself a couple times - okay, a lot of times - to the thought of him.

When I don't respond, he backs us into my bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

He slides his shoes and jacket off, sitting on my bed and leaning back with his feet propped up. I blush at the sight of him in my bed and restrain myself from ripping my clothes off here and now. A chill runs through my body, making me noticeably shake but I try to play it off. He probably things I'm scared, when in reality I just want him.

"Relax, I'd never hurt you darlin'. Unless you want me to." He winks as he leans back against the headboard getting more comfortable.

"I know." And I do... for some reason, I know he wouldn't hurt me.

He bites his bottom lip playfully and raises his eyebrows while patting the bed next to him.

I nervously walk over and sit down before leaning back, mimicking his position. My bed is a twin, so it doesn't allow much room to ourselves. My shoulder is pressed against his and the simple act has my body on fire already. I glance over and let my eyes roam up his white t-shirt to his handsome face. He watches me with amusement while his leg presses against mine teasingly.

"Sweetheart, I've been around the block long enough to know when a girl wants my dick. And I can practically hear that pussy fucking purring every time I come near you." He grins at me like he knows all my secrets.

My face burns with embarrassment at his words.

"I bet I could make you blush even harder than that, doll." His grin stretches wider but I stay silent, letting him do the talking.

"Of course.. I wouldn't do anything you're not comfortable wi-"

Before he can finish, I press my lips to his hard and climb on top of him. His mouth parts, letting my tongue in and his subtle moan makes my pussy flutter. He tastes like whiskey and smells like leather and I feel high off the taste of him as we kiss passionately. I grind my hips desperately into him and feel his bulge grow underneath me.

"Negan... I need you."

"I know baby." He breathes out.

My hands fumble with his belt and pants until I get them undone. He watches me as I pull out his cock and my pussy is already sore from just looking at it. No way it's gonna fit.

"How do you want it, baby? You gonna be a big girl and ride daddy?" His hands squeeze my ass underneath my dress and he practically growls when he realizes I'm not wearing panties.

"It's like you knew I was coming. Such a bad little girl." His fingers tease my opening and I'm embarrassed that I'm already pathetically soaked for him.

"All for me?" He slides a finger through my slit and brings it up to his mouth for a taste. "So fucking sweet."

I slide myself against his cock that's now slippery with my wetness and wonder how I'm gonna fit that thing inside me.

The big dick energy definitely checks out.

I hover above him naively, thinking I can actually take him. The tip just barely pushes through my opening and I moan at the sudden pressure. His hands grip my ass, guiding me down over him.

"Come on baby, that's it." He praises me as I keep sliding down. I stop when I can't take anymore, realizing I have at least four more inches to go.

"Oh, I know my little slut can take more than that."

I shake my head. "Negan, I don't think I -"

"You can, and you will, doll. I didn't come all the way here for you to only take half of my dick."

Tears fill my eyes as I try to sit all the way on him, wanting to make him proud. I make it another inch before the pain is too much. Not only with how deep he is, but he's so wide I think he may actually be ripping me apart.

"Deeper, y/n." He demands.

When I try again and fail, I quickly climb off of him frustrated. "I can't Negan, I'm trying!" He sits up in the bed, his feet on the floor now.

"Bend over."

"W-what?"

"Do not make me ask again." His jaw clenches as he stares at me seriously.

I lay myself over him, my ass facing upwards on his lap.

"You're going to take all of me, baby. If my wives at home can take me, I expect nothing less from you."

He doesn't even give me a warning before bringing his hand down painfully on my ass making me yelp. He chuckles darkly before smacking me again. He rubs the sensitive spot before teasing both of my holes.. One with his thumb and the other with his middle finger.

"What would daddy say if he could see you right now? Bent over my fucking lap and dripping for me like a little whore..." He pushes his thumb and finger deep inside each of my openings and I bite my lip hard at the pain.

I know he's trying to be all dominant right now.. I'm not oblivious to how rough sex works, but my eyes still sting with tears at his crude words. I shouldn't have built my hopes up that Negan could actually care and be gentle with me.

I sniffle as the tears fall, trying to wipe the snot dripping from my nose.

He quickly pulls me up and his eyes are filled with concern.

"Baby? Hey, look at me." He cups my face gently as I sit on the bed next to him.

"I - I liked you." I choke out. "I was the only one here who actually cared about you and saw you as a person.. and you.. you just see me as a stupid object you can shove your dick in.... You just ruined my first experience with a man. I hope you're happy." I sob while looks like someone just punched him in the gut.

"Fuck, sweetheart." He presses his forehead to mine, looking down with regret. "I didn't know you were all mushy about me and shit.. Truth is?" He tilts my chin to look at him. "I was being so harsh with you cause I didn't want to admit my own feelings. I didn't think you'd ever want an asshole like me, so I didn't want to go catching feelings for someone who didn't want me back. But baby? I can't get you outta my fucking head... Why do you think I started visiting every week?"

My teary eyes look up at him and he looks genuine. I want to trust him so badly, but my heart and head are saying two different things.

"Fuck, y/n. I know you don't believe me. Let me prove it to you. What can I do? Just say the fucking word."

"Stop taking our stuff... Leave our people alone..."

He chuckles lightly, shaking his head like he can't believe what he's about to agree to. "Does that include you?"

I try to hide my grin as I wipe my tears with the back of my hand. "....No."

"Then it's a deal, baby."

"That's it? Just like that?" I look at him confused.

He shrugs. "Guess you've got me wrapped around your finger already, darlin...And now that I know you've never been with a man, I'm taking my fucking time with you." He lays me down on the bed while kissing and climbing over me.

"What about my dad? He'll be back soon."

"Simon's keeping watch, doll."

His lips travel to my neck. "....What about your other wives? You're just gonna fuck me and go back to them?"

He laughs against my neck. "Sweetheart.. I kicked every one of them to the curb the day I layed eyes on you."

My mouth drops open but he cuts me off by pulling my dress down over my chest and taking a nipple into his mouth. I moan and arch myself into him. After a few moments of sucking each one, he slides down further, lifting my dress to my waist and settling his head between my legs. I watch him in awe as he takes his time, kissing my inner thighs.

"Has anyone ever eaten you, baby?"

I shake my head no as I lean up on my elbows to watch him.

"Good." He spreads my pussy lips apart with his fingers and I blush at him staring at it. "Such a pretty pussy. Fuck." He says before locking eyes with me and pressing a kiss to my clit gently. I moan from the contact and arch myself into him, silently begging for more.

He dips his tongue in me and curls it up, gathering my juices. His eyes roll to the back of his head and he groans and licks all the way up to my clit before sucking on it softly. My mouth drops open and my hips try to jerk away, being overwhelmed by sensitivity.

He smiles against me. "Not going anywhere until you cum all over my face, doll." He wraps his arms up around my thighs, pressing my stomach down with his hands.

My breathing matches the speed of his licking and sucking and I feel the pressure building up inside me.

"Fuck, Negan!" My eyes are clenched shut but snap open when my door suddenly flies open.

"Shit! Dad!" I reach to throw my blanket over me, but defeatedly realize it's on the floor. My eyes widen in horror at my father standing in the doorway, looking like he just saw a ghost. A ghost that's eating his daughter's pussy. I'm unable to close my legs because Negan is still holding me down with his hands.

"God fucking dammit, Rick. We were just ge-"

"Negan!" I cut him off, my cheeks turning bright red with embarrassment.

He kisses my pussy one more time and my eyes widen, not believing he just did that in front of my father. He finally leans up, wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb and smirking at my dad like he's proud of himself.

I quickly get up and fix my dress.

"Dad, look, I -" I look up, stopping at the sight of Carl pointing a gun directly at Negan's head.

Negan tucks himself back into his jeans, buckling his belt and ignoring Carl.

"Carl.." I slowly step in front of Negan. "Put the gun down."

"You - you wanted this? Him?" My dad asks horrified. "He's done horrible things, y/n."

"And you haven't?!" I yell at my dad. "I watched you rip a man's neck open with your goddamn teeth. If he's a monster.. then so are you."

Negan steps beside me and laces his fingers through mine before kissing the side of my head.

"I love him, dad." I look up at Negan and elbow him roughly when I see a teasing smirk on his face.

"And you think he loves you? You can't be that stupid." My dad says, putting emphasis on the last word.

Negan chuckles and finally cuts in. "First of all, Dick, do not call my woman stupid. Secondly.." His faces grows serious. "We won't be taking anymore of your things. No more visits. Other than me paying this one a visit of course." Negan winks and puts his his arm around me protectively. "That is.. until she moves in with me." Our eyes all widen at the same time.

"You want me to live with you?" I turn to Negan.

"I mean, you did just confess your love for me, doll. Soo, yeah, that's the plan." He kisses my forehead.

"Y/n, we'll talk about this later. Negan, you need to leave. Now." My dad demands, his jaw ticking with anger.

Negan glares at my dad for a moment before turning to me, lifting my chin to kiss him slowly and passionately. Before he lets go, he whispers in my ear. "Meet me right outside the walls when it gets dark. I am nowhere near done with you, baby."

My heart flutters at the thought of us sneaking out together.

Negan walks towards the door before leaning close to my dad's ear. "I get to be her first, Rick. How fucking sweet is that." I struggle to make out his words but don't miss the chuckle at the end. He pats Carl's shoulder on his way out. "See ya 'round, bro."

"Love you, sweetheart!" He calls out to me as my dad and brother follow behind him, making sure he leaves.

I shut my door and smile giddily, running to the window and peeking out. Negan is already looking up at the window when I look at him. He smirks and winks at me before heading off to the gates.

A few hours later:

The sun just went down and my palms are starting to sweat as I pace back and forth on the outskirts of the gates. A million thoughts race through my head.

What if he doesn't come..

What if it's a trap..

What if he lied about everything he said..

Oh my god.. He's gonna kidnap and torture me..

Shut up. He wouldn't do that.

This is a bad idea. What am I doing.

Just as I turn to run back inside the walls, I see him appear from the shadows, wearing his signature leather jacket with a black t-shirt underneath.

"Were you about to ditch me, y/n?" He asks playfully as he pulls my wrist towards him and crashes his lips into mine. When the kiss deepens, he bends a little, pulling me up by the back of my thighs and wrapping my legs around his waist. We make out like horny teenagers while my fingers run through his slick black hair.

"You ready to officially be mine, doll?"

I nod without hesitation. "Yes. I'm already yours, Negan. I don't care what anyone thinks about us."

He kisses me again, setting me back down on the ground. "Lead the way, baby." He nods towards the side gates.

"You want to go back to my house? What if someone sees you?!"

"Kinda hope they do.. I like the thought of everyone knowing who you belong to." He smirks and it makes me knees weak.

"Okay.. come on." I pull his hand as I guide him back to my house. We sneak through the back sliding doors as carefully as possible before tiptoeing up the stairs.

He lightly smacks my ass as we're going up and I turn to shush him, tripping over my own feet in the process. He catches me before I make a loud thud on the stairs and his body is leaned over mine as we try not to laugh.

My body shakes as I laugh silently and bring my hand over my mouth quickly to stop any sound that comes out. His eyebrows raise at me with warning as if I better not make a noise.

"Okay, okay. Shushhh." I whisper before beginning our climb up the stairs again. My dad's room is at the end of the hall and mine is adjacent next to his. We try not to let the floors creak as we get closer to my room. We slip inside and I ease the door shut gently. When it finally clicks shut. I let go of a deep breath and look up at Negan. As soon as our eyes lock, we laugh like idiots, but quiet idiots.

He walks towards me. "Goddamn it, I fucking love you." He says as he lifts me back into his arms kissing me.

"You know.. earlier outside.." I breathe out between our kisses. "I thought.. that maybe you were gonna kidnap and torture me."

He smiles against my mouth as our lips lazily fight each other. "...What if I am?"

I stop kissing him to look at him. When I do, his look turns serious and it scares me for a moment. "I fully plan on making you mine and torturing you with this dick forever, doll."

I grin and roll my eyes as he continues holding me in his arms. "I guess there are worse ways to get tortured."

"Wait until I'm all the way inside you." His eyebrows raise teasingly.

I press my forehead to his and bring my hands to cup his face, kissing him again. I can't take my lips off of him. "Well what are you waiting for?"

That's all he needs to hear before he's walking me towards the bed and laying me down gently. He stands back up, removing his jacket and shirt.

I watch him closely, admiring the flex of his biceps when he moves. "Put the jacket back on. No shirt."

He laughs until he sees that I'm serious.

"Yes ma'am." He says with his little country accent. It's not always noticeable, but when it is.. it's so fucking adorable.

Once he's back in the jacket and bare chested, he stops for a moment before removing his pants. "Can I take these off, at least?"

"No, I want to."

He grin stretches as he walks towards the bed, keeping his hands by his sides. "All yours, baby."

I sit up in the bed in front of him and undo his button and zipper. I shuffle his pants down just a little before pulling his hardening cock out of his boxers. It turns to a steel rod in my hand and I don't care that I'm full on staring at it, assessing each vein and how it turns an ombre shade of pink towards the tip.

"I hope you like what you see, baby. Cause it's the only dick you're gonna be seeing for the rest of your life."

"I'm perfectly happy with that." I look up at him before kissing the tip of him, just like he did to my clit earlier. He watches me proudly, letting his fingers run through my hair lovingly.

I lick my lips before struggling to fit my mouth around him. He chuckles down at me.

“If you can’t fit me in that cunt, what makes you think you can take it down your throat, baby?”

I grin around him and I slide my mouth deeper and deeper. Surprisingly I don’t gag and I think it surprises him too.

Guess I don’t have a gag reflex. That’s good to know.

“Holyyy shit, doll. Look. At. You.” His voice is so deep it vibrates to my pussy. The tip hits the very back on my throat and even further until my eyes water.

I try to jerk my head back, but Negan pushes my head down on him again, my nose pressed into his pubic hair. He waits a few seconds until I feel like I’m going to pass out from lack of oxygen before pulling my head back. I gasp for air and he pulls me all the way off of him while kicking his pants and boxers off.

"Trying to make me blow my load before we even get to the good part, darlin'? He climbs over me in the bed, kissing me softly.

My hands slip underneath his jacket and rub his back, scratching at it gently.

"I am gonna make you feel So fucking good." He says before kissing my neck. "You want me to be gentle with you baby?" His voice right in my ear makes me shiver.

I nod and he hovers his face above mine so we’re staring into each other eyes.

“You ready, baby?” He whispers and I nod again.

He leans up on his knees between me and lines himself up with my entrance before pushing the tip through. “Tell me if you need me to stop.”

He slowly slides in me further and further as he holds my legs open.

“Goddamn this pussy is so fucking Tight.” He pulls back a little before pushing in deeper and my mouth gapes open slightly.

He chuckles and stares down at me through heavy eyelids. "I'm not even halfway yet, sweetheart. You want more?"

I nod desperately as my eyes fill with tears at the overwhelming sensation of him so deep inside me.

"Take it then, doll. Grind on me and make yourself feel good." He stops moving completely while still on his knees between my legs.

My cheeks blush at his request and he smirks down at me, sliding his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, refusing to move or touch me.

I lean up on my elbows while he's still inside me and push my body further into him, taking every inch I possibly can. I grind myself against him until I find just the right spot for the tip of his cock to press into and drop my head back at how good it feels, not caring about the desperate sounds I let out.

"Oh my god, Negan.. fuck." My face reddens at the intense pleasure as I continue using his cock to pleasure myself.

"Fuck, baby. Now THIS? Is a Fucking sight.. Watching you get off on my cock like a desperate little whore."

"Touch me, Negan. Please."

"Please what?"

"Please Negan."

He removes his hands from his jacket to lean over me, holding himself above me with one hand on the bed while bringing the other to lightly grip my throat.

His dark hazel eyes dart back and forth between mine as he squeezes his fingers gently around my neck. My face reddens even more at the sudden loss of air.

"Try again, doll."

"Please... daddy." I choke out and he quickly releases my throat.

"Good girl." He kisses my lips softly before thrusting his hips hard, completely filling me until his balls are flush against me.

I scream out and his hand immediately covers my mouth while his head dips to the side of mine and his deep voice fills my ear once again.

"Sshhh, baby. I know. I know." He pulls out almost completely before sliding in again, this time softer but just as deep.

My eyes fill with tears at the pain but I don't want him to stop. My fingers grip the bottom of his jacket as he continues fucking me hard and at a steady pace. The headboard begins to lightly bump the wall above me and my eyes widen with panic.

"Negan, the bed. My dad's room is right on the other side."

He chuckles lightly in my ear but doesn't speak. Instead, he pounds into me even harder and faster with his head is buried into my neck.

"Negan!" I whisper yell at him but it feels too good to make him stop. The closer my orgasm gets, the less I care about my dad hearing us.

After a few more thrusts, he slows down and suddenly flips us over with his dick still inside me until I'm laying over him.

"Negan, my dad's gonna come in here! We have to be quie-"

Before I finish, he lifts his knees up and rams his cock into me hard. It feels even deeper from this angle and hits a spot that makes me see stars.

"Come here, baby." He maneuvers me until my arms are wrapped around him and my head is nestled into his neck. He smells like musky cologne and sweat and I can't help but lick him. Our mouths are next to each others ears, breathing and moaning heavily as he begins to thrust up into me faster than ever. The headboard slams into the wall with force but I don't even care.

This feeling is unlike anything I've ever felt or knew was possible, so the last thing I'm gonna do is tell him to stop.

"Negan.." I cry out. "Faster."

He obeys and wraps his arms around me tighter, fucking me at an animalistic pace. I cum so hard and fast I don't even have time to announce it. My pussy clenches and I feel myself suddenly leak around him, soaking his dick and probably even the bed below us.

"Goddamn. That's my good fucking girl... You gonna let daddy cum in this pussy, baby?"

"Yes! Please." I whine.

He growls in my ear and holds himself deep and still inside me as his dick pulses over and over.

I try to slide off of him when he's finished, but he holds me tight, not letting me leave.

"Negan, you need to leave before my dad-"

"He's not here, sweetheart."

"What?!" I snap my eyes to his.

"Relax, baby. He's fine. But I did warn him that if he didn't want to hear his baby girl screaming "daddy" all night.. then he should take your siblings and go stay the night with Daryl." He grins up at me and my brows come together with confusion.

"Wait you.. you told him about our plan?"

"Of course baby. Had to be respectful and ask for your old man's blessing."

"And.. and he gave it to you?!"

Negan laughs and reaches up to tuck my hair behind my ear. "Absolutely not. But respectfully, I told him he didn't have a choice."

The next morning:

My vagina is screaming at me for allowing it to be destroyed last night. I can't count on one hand how many times Negan made me cum. I open my eyes to the sun shining through my window and immediately notice Negan is gone. I shoot up and look around, seeing that his clothes are also gone.

What if he just.. got what he wanted and left..

I throw the covers off of me and get up, grabbing my sundress of the floor and throwing it on before making my way through the house.

"Carl?!.... Dad?!" I yell as I descend quickly down the stairs. I stop at the bottom to find Negan stirring a pot of something on the stove.

"There she is! Mornin' sunshine." I walk over to Negan to see what he's cooking and he holds a spoon up to my mouth, letting me taste the deliciousness. This man can fuck and cook... what a god.

"Was wonderin when you were gonna wake the hell up. It's already lunch time, baby." He presses his lips to mine and I notice his freshly shaven face. I've never seen him like his and he looks so incredibly handsome.

He lifts me up and sets me on the kitchen counter while standing between my legs.

"Mmm, promise me you'll wear little sundresses with no panties underneath for the rest of our lives, doll." He says as he kisses me sweetly. I giggle and wrap my arms around him, kissing his neck.

"You hungry baby?" He asks and I nod sleepily.

"Me too." He slowly gets down on his knees in front of me, draping my legs over his shoulders.

He softly licks me with his tongue, moaning from the taste before burying his face further into me until I feel his tongue push past my hole. His shaven face feels soft and much more gentle than his beard.

My fingers run through his black hair, tugging on it gently as my head falls back.

"Mmm, daddy." I moan and my eyes snap open, hearing movement at the front door. I quickly jerk Negan up while pulling my dress down and sliding off the counter, seeing my dad, Carl, and Daryl standing in the doorway. Carl quickly covers Judith's eyes while he holds her and Negan sighs annoyedly at the sight of them.

"God..DAMN it, Rick. Again? You gotta learn to fucking knock."

"It's my house." My dad's expression is unreadable as he stands there, eyeing Negan. "You said one night. You can be on your way now."

"Well now don't be fucking rude, Prick. Have a seat." He grins widely at my dad before gesturing to the table. "I made spaghetti."

The End.

3K notes · View notes

xwritingdixonx · 7 months

Text

Is It Better To Speak or To Die? | Daryl Dixon |

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Masterlist

Summary: After being rescued from Woodbury by Rick's group, you struggle with living a "normal" life in the walls of the prison. The trauma's inflicted on you at the hands of the Govenour drag you to the deepest depths. A certain archer is the onyl one who can drag you back out.

Warnings: slow burn, language, smoking, grief, depression, talk of body scars, implied smut, implied past abuse, Governor (enough said)

Word Count: aprox. 10k

Era: Prison, Alexandria.

Song Recommendation: Cinnamon Girl - Lana Del Ray, Would That I - Hozier

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The survivors of Woodbury had called The Prison “home” for only a week. The war and downfall of the Governor and Woodbury were still fresh in everyone’s gut, though others were making themselves comfortable very quickly. You were not. It was such an irony to you. Taking shelter in a prison as if this world wasn’t a prison. As if the traumas of the past year of survival didn’t hold you by your throat. Your own mental prison.

The bowl you held still warmed your hands. Though you knew no appetite arose in your stomach, you still took the bowl Carol offered just to be polite. Standing alone, your back leaned against the support beam of the gazebo all the benches sat under for meals. You had been a part of Woodbury...but you certainly hadn’t been a part of the community. Not near the end at least.

Most people steered clear of you. Avoiding your tired hardened eyes and threatening gazes. Avoiding the tenseness in your persona. Completely removing themselves from the possibility of having an interaction with the emotionless shell you had become. Others were compassionate, showing you any empathy they could bear. You’d get a polite head nod and warm smile occasionally, though you never returned it.

In Woodbury, no one asked questions, they talked and gossiped amongst one another but never bothered. But at the prison, you were new. Fresh meat. So in turn, you had your fair share of stares and whispers from Rick’s group.

Carol had become your latest bother. In the mornings, just like today, people would slowly make their way to line up for their share of breakfast. Your desire was to simply come out in the crisp morning air and smoke a cigarette, attempting to forget the night of terrors you encountered when you closed your eyes. You’d be sure to isolate yourself a bit away so the smoke didn’t bother anyone’s morning. But Carol simply wouldn’t accept it.

The last few days she’d noticed the lack of breakfast passing your lips. You’d smoke a cigarette and then wait to eat a proper meal for dinner. Reminding her of another certain someone.

She couldn’t make you line up and wait like everyone else. She couldn’t make you come and sit at a table and be social. So, she’d make you your own bowl and walk it over to you, giving you a polite smile, and then walk away. She did this for the past 3 days, catching onto your pattern early on.

“How’s she doing?” Rick drawled as Carol handed him his own bowl of powdered eggs and steamed potatoes. “Can bring a horse to water but you can’t make ‘em drink.” Carol joked back, Rick nodded in response and thanked her for his bowl.

Rick had been keeping an eye on you ever since you’d arrived. Unlike most of Woodbury, who willingly came running out to be rescued, you were found by Rick. The door to the room he found you in had been locked from the outside.

Everything he found out about you from that point had been from the mouths of others. You hadn’t even used words to tell him your name, he had been told by someone else. “Morning.” Rick greeted Daryl who was already almost finished his own breakfast, “Mornin’.” He stood with Daryl, neither of the men having time to sit with all the plans to improve the prison.

Daryl followed Rick’s gaze, noticing the way Rick seemed to be lost in thought. When the gaze ended on you, Daryl scoffed. “Figured that one out yet?” He asked, shoving a spoon of egg in his mouth. “Not yet.” Daryl had tried himself to scramble for puzzle pieces of you but had no success. You didn’t talk. Not a word, not even a whisper. There was a part of him that was intrigued by you, a part of him that wanted to dissect. But there was the other part that told him to mind his business.

“Good morning.” Riley begins to pass by, greeting Rick and Daryl. If the term Southern Bell was a person, that would be Riley. Blonde hair, dark emerald eyes, sweet smile, curvy in all the right places, and a smooth southern drawl. Smooth and sweet, nothing like your jagged sharp edges. Riley had been brought in with the Woodbury group and quickly made herself useful in running her mouth…but also in learning medical. “Morning.” Riley’s green eyes darted in the direction the men were looking. Because how dare their attention be on anyone but her.

“I feel so bad for her��” She commented, putting herself into their conversation. Rick and Daryl both gave each other a glance. Rick wanted to know about you from you. Not from the gossip and storytelling of others. “I swear it’s like her mouth was sewn into a frown when Jackson died.” Riley actually looked quite empathetic when she said this. “Who was that?”

“Her twin brother.”

Rick took a pause from eating his breakfast to let this new information marinate into his brain. Though neither of them asked for it, Riley continued. “When they first got to Woodbury, everything was fine. But then the Governor wanted Y/n to be one of his soldiers.” Using air quotations at the word soldiers.

“Y/n refused over and over. One night, Governor took Y/n and Jackson for a walk outside of Woodbury’s walls and Jackson didn’t come back…Governor said he got bit but…” Riley’s words trailed off as she looked at your stone-like features. “Y/n joined him after that…some people thought he killed Jackson and used it to force her to.” Her tone was uneasy as if the Governor would come to get her if she dared speak of it.

Or maybe she was more afraid of you.

“After that, I mean..” Riley scoffed dramatically and tried to ease the tension with a laugh, “I-I shouldn’t be talking about this anyway.” She gave the men a sheepish smile before swiftly walking away, joining a full table.

"Forgot how much people love to gossip huh?"

"Hmm," Daryl hummed in response. Rick took Daryl's empty bowl and stacked it on his own. "Gonna go give Judy her breakfast, alright?" As he nudged Daryl with his elbow, Daryl responded with a hum that was accompanied by a nod.

Daryl had learned the art of minding his business a long time ago. He didn't want people in his...so why pry into others?

You had finished your cigarette and smushed it into the concrete under your boot, now aimlessly poking around in the texture of the oatmeal. Carol frequently cooked her oatmeal for a tad too long and with too much liquid, giving it a mushy, snot like texture. It gave you another reason to skip out on breakfast but you at least wanted to try.

Daryl watched as you took a bite from the bowl. You moved around the food in your mouth, chewing slowly. The texture on your tongue was enough to turn you away. You looked in the direction of the bench where all of the younger children sat. Some talking with food still in their mouths. Their chattering stopped when they saw you approach like a dark gloomy cloud threatening rain.

Without saying a word, you placed your bowl in front of Patrick, offering him your share. Behind his thick glasses, he looked at the bowl then at you, and smiled. “Thanks Y/n.” You replied with a nod and walked away. Patrick was one of the few people from Woodbury who was consistently kind to you. He was always polite and never treated you any differently. You had actually heard him defend your name more than once. Perhaps he was just too young to feed into it but it was an act that didn’t go unappreciated by you.

And your act towards Patrick hadn’t gone unnoticed by Daryl. It wasn’t as if you had saved his life but you could’ve thrown your share away. Snuck over to the pig's pen and scraped it in. Instead, you gave it to a child.

Daryl would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't intrigued by you. He had never been intrigued by anyone in his life, though he couldn't deny the itch that was the mystery of you.

Two mornings after that one, Daryl had woken up particularly early. Readying himself to go outside the fences. There was a steady whisper amongst his friends the true reason he wondered out of the safety of the prison walls. The thought of The Governor still being alive haunted Daryl’s mind as it did the others. But no one would do what he did nearly every morning. No one except you.

Not many were typically up at this hour. The sun had barely risen and the morning air was still chilly from the night. When Daryl walked out into the courtyard, he didn’t expect to see you. He knew you were typically up earlier than others but not as early as him, not on days like this. You sat on the top of a picnic bench, feet planted where someone would typically sit. You faced away from Daryl but he could see the puff of smoke that typically followed you.

He could tell you weren’t in your typical nature. Despite the circumstances, you typically kept yourself put together. You wore a black long-sleeve fitted to your body and a pair of old gray sweatpants. Your hair was untamed and frizzy, having not been brushed yet. What had you up this early? What had you out of your cell so disheveled? And obviously, in such a rush?

The drag of the cigarette burned the back of your throat. It wasn’t as if you actually enjoyed smoking them. They tasted bad, itched your throat, and the smoke made your eyes water. But it felt as if holding them stopped your hands from shaking so badly every morning. It didn’t. But you’d keep lying to yourself and saying it did. You had woken up from another devilish dream, jolting you awake with a rapid heart and heavy breathing.

Typically you’d sit on the edge of your bed, head in your hands until your heart rate returned to normal. But on this particular morning, you couldn’t sit any longer in those walls, feeling the tightness of their build.

“Mornin.” He greeted you. What was he doing? Why was he even over here? Daryl’s mind ran with thoughts and questions as he awkwardly disrupted your own running mind.

You glanced over at him, your eyebrows furrowing with confusion. Someone disrupting you at this time wasn’t expected. As soon as Daryl saw the harsh glare hit your features, he regretted his decision. He didn’t know what to say to you or what he was doing. Both of your heads turned at the sound of a door shutting, Carol lugging a big pot over to the serving table.

“Carol’s gonna start setting up soon…if ya wanna get outta here.” Your eyes followed Carol for a second before meeting Daryl’s.

Daryl had never seen you face to face, he’d never even spoken a word to you. Your initial glare wore off your face and you gave Daryl a single nod, standing up from the bench. Daryl caught his bottom lip and nervously chewed at it. “M’going…out” Daryl pointed in the direction of the woods, “If ya wanna come.” You glanced between Daryl and the woods and thought for a second before giving him a proper nod.

“Alright. I’ll wait for ya at the gate with my bike.”

It didn’t take long for you to meet Daryl. You’d switched your pants out with jeans and your bare feet with boots. Accompanied with your backpack and a pair of fingerless gloves to fight the chilly morning. You had obviously run a comb through your hair as well.

Daryl appreciated the space you gave him on the bike. You sat an inch or two back, your arms loose around him. Typically when people rode with him they held on tight, maybe a little too tight and too close for Daryl’s comfort, but you didn’t. A steady routine had been built between you and the archer after that morning. Along with a growing friendship.

Carol had picked up on this growing routine. By the fourth day, she began waking up even earlier, packing both of you lunches and a snack as if she were a mother sending her children to school.

The first few days your silence made Daryl uneasy. But soon, he actually began to enjoy your company. He even enjoyed your silence. It came in handy when he was tracking a deer or bunny.

The two of you had created your own language of looks, touches, and whistles. One morning you had gotten separated from Daryl while tracking and the song of the whistle was born.

The once colorful leaves were now a dirty brown and crunched awfully loud when you stepped on them. The early Fall months were slowly becoming even colder which meant being on the lookout for anything edible became far more important. Especially meat. Daryl had begun to teach you how to track on your own, which meant the two of you could cover more ground on the same hunt.

Your footsteps were steady and quiet, your eyes trained on the consistent tussle of the leaves. There was a specific herd of deer that had been on Daryl’s radar that he’d spotted a few mornings ago. Daryl walked a few feet behind you, checking that the tracks you eyed were accurate.

The leaves began to blend together, and the steady path you found was now lost from your sight. You kneeled down and dug the leaves away from the ground hoping the tracks would be embedded in the dirt. But the ground was too cold and dense to be marked with anything. It was when you turned to face Daryl and accept your defeat that he was no longer there.

A sense of panic seized through you. Your eyes scanned around the surrounding tree lines for a sign of his silhouette but you saw none. You’re fine, you told yourself, but the comfort Daryl’s presence provided was now gone and you were beginning to spiral. You didn’t know these woods well and you didn’t know your way back to the prison from here.

Out of sheer desperation, you brought your lips together and let out a two-tone whistle. You gave it a second of silence and just as you were about to repeat, a long one-tone whistle replied back. Daryl quickly came back through an opening in the trees looking as if he had run back to you. His eyes were filled with panic. “Ya alright?” You nodded, seeing him again immediately put you at ease. “M’sorry. Found the tracks, they go off this way.”

Daryl spent a lot of time studying you. It wasn’t intentional…but he couldn’t help but pay attention to every detail. He knew when something was on your mind by the way you dazed off more or the more cigarettes you smoked. Or the way you fiddled with the sleeves of your shirts and jackets. He understood the different expressions on your face and what every one of them meant. You expressed yourself a lot through your eyebrows and eyes. No matter what expression, your eyes were always filled with such sadness. You never smiled. Even on days when Daryl felt good and felt as if he was going to have some major breakthrough, you never did.

Daryl enjoyed what he’d built with you over these last few months but his mind and body were becoming restless. He yearned for you, he yearned to know you. It was like being covered head to toe in mosquito bites. And then someone tying your hands so you’d never be able to scratch them. He wanted to hear your voice and he wanted to see you smile. He told himself that if he ever got to hear you laugh, he’d start praying and going to the prison chapel.

He realized he’d never even seen your teeth before, though it was an odd thought, it would be added to the pile of things that itched and irritated.

Then there were the other thoughts. The bites that itched but also ached and throbbed. He wanted you to sit closer to him on the bike and he wanted your arms tight around his torso. He wanted to hold your hands and stop them from shaking in the morning. He wanted to keep you close after running away from a hoard.

Daryl had spent his time dissecting you like a frog in science class.

Now, he had grown impatient of dissecting. He’d never wanted anyone how desperately he wanted you. You were his sweet tooth craving, you were his stomach-decaying hunger, and you were his fucking mosquito bite. But despite all of Daryls itches and desires, he'd never try to change you. He'd never push you out of the comfort of your silence though he would always be waiting.

The time spent with Daryl had put a piece of you at ease. You’d had grown a special attachment while Daryl had practically sewn you to his hip. The only time you weren’t with him was when it came time to shower or sleep.

You met Daryl every morning at the gate, ready to go wandering amongst the trees or scavenging. Some day's you made it back in time to catch lunch together. Especially if you had an early morning catch and had to get back before the meat went rancid. Most days, you'd find a quiet and safe spot to eat the lunch Carol packed and made it back to the prison before sunset and dinner.

There was peace in this routine...but you couldn't live in this routine forever. There were other duties that needed attention around the prison. The early morning adventures had become less but the time together never changed.

When you weren't enjoying the company of Daryl, you enjoyed the company of the garden. And when it was too late in the day for either of those things, you read books about the garden and thought about Daryl. You learned what crops could be grown in the winter and then looked for their seeds in old gardening stores...with Daryl.

Some, Most, Every night you thought of him. You thought of all the things he'd taught you, of his patience with you, and all the stories he told to fill the air. He'd tell you stories of him and Merle. You wanted to tell him that you knew Merle. That when the Governor locked you away, Merle would come visit you and sneak you food. That he was kind to you despite being such a prick to everyone else.

But no matter how much time and peace Daryl provided, the nightmares never left you. You still woke up with shaky hands and a racing mind and memories of your brother. Although you did cut the habit of reaching for a cigarette. Mainly because your pack was running low and it was becoming impossible to find any more.

Unknowing to you, Daryl had been finding them while scavenging and hiding them in spots you didn't look.

You grabbed the carrot at its very base and pulled it from the soft dirt, a soft snap following. The gloves that kept your fingers from freezing were covered in mud and bits of green. It had rained in the night which made the ground perfectly soft to harvest produce. So, instead of going out this morning, you and Daryl were in the gardens. Well, Daryl followed you to the gardens and wouldn't leave.

"This one alright?" Daryl held up a cabbage with his own gloved hand only a few feet away. You glanced over and gave him a approving nod. He tossed it into the basket that already held a mixture of carrots, celery, and fresh herbs for Carol's cabbage soup.

Carol had become less of a bother to you. In fact, you'd actually created a swift routine with her. You read and researched the books about plants and gardening while she read the ones about cooking. You were the farmer while she got to play Martha Stewart.

"How's it going you two?" Rick and Carol approached the gardens with a little extra pep in their step. The rain fall had made this winter day chillier which meant everyone was bundling up and multiple fires were lit in the courtyard and cell blocks for warmth. "S'alright!" Daryl shouted as he fought with a carrot that seemed to be deep rooted in the ground. From your kneeling position on the ground, you watched Daryl with amusement as he struggled. You would’ve thought that carrot was as big as a egg plant with all his pull and tug.

“You got it Pookie?” Carol teased, Rick and her both getting their own dose of amusement. “M’fine.” With one last pull, the carrot popped from the dirt. “Ya gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’” Daryl held up the carrot, it was about the size of his thumb. You heard Rick and Carol have their own set of laughter, “Maybe you should stick to huntin’ those deer.” Rick said between a few chuckles. Daryl scoffed and tossed the baby carrot into the basket, as he kneeled down to continue picking, he caught your expression.

It was so small he could’ve missed it but he didn’t and he was so glad he hadn’t. You looked back down towards the dirt, a smirk tugging up the corners of your lips and poking your cheeks, dimpling them. For a second, it felt as if someone had punched Daryl in the chest. But it was there just as fast as it was gone.

From that moment on, Daryl wanted nothing more than to feel that again…as did you. You felt foolish. There was this awful gnawing inside you that was telling you every day what you already knew within your heart. He was chipping away at every wall you’d built up and beginning to break down the wall to a very soft spot of you. You had begun to feel like a turtle removed from its shell. Mushy, sensitive, and vulnerable. Gross.

"Hey Y/n!" The youngest Greene girl greeted. The community of the prison had begun to warm up to you. They no longer avoided you like the plague opting to actually say "hello" or "good morning" or maybe even a "goodnight." It had become very well known the closeness Daryl and you held and if people knew, people talked.

You looked up from your current book to Beth standing in the doorway of your cell clutching a small pile of tan books to herself. "Can I..come in?" She awkwardly shuffled her feet farther in and adjusted the books, you nodded. Beth let the curtain that covered your doorway drop and happily took a seat on your bed. You sat up straight and set your book of, Wildflowers Of All Seasons, on the bed beside you. While you adjusted yourself, Beth seemed to be studying your room.

It was more decorated than she had imagined. Your cell was on the upper level, one down from Daryl's. You had a very small wooden nightstand beside your bed that had various half-melted candles. Their wax dripped down the sides and embedded itself into the wood. On the wall across from your bed stood a very slim wooden table.

It was decorated with different trinkets and bottles you'd scavenged, a zippo lighter, and a stack of your growing book collection. Shoved underneath was a wire basket that held all your clothes. Your only 2 pairs of boots and bookbag sat beside it. Your everyday black, fleece-lined jacket was hung off the pole of your bed.

"I found these in the library and thought you might like them." Beth laid out the books on your bed, making it a point to show you every single one of them. Peterson - Field Guide to... They all read. They were very small and slim, a pale shade of tan, with various illustrations on the front pertaining to the title. Perfect to slip into your bag.

"I thought they'd be nice for you to carry when you go out in the mornings." Beth watched as you examined each book, "I wanted to grab them for you before anyone else found 'em." Beth held a very innocent hopeful smile the whole time she spoke to you but your silence was causing her to become uneasy. You picked up a specific one, Field Guide to Animal Tracks. You looked up at the girl and gave her a thin-lipped smile to show your appreciation.

A wide smile formed on her face and she left with a very sweet "Goodnight."

Glenn relieved Daryl from watch tower duty later than expected. It had to of been close to midnight when he got back to his cell. As he walked by your cell, he carefully peeled back your green curtain to check on you. You were a restless sleeper, Daryl heard you almost every night tossing and turning or waking up with a jolt.

Most of your features were concealed by the darkness but from what was visible, you appeared to be in a peaceful sleep. There was a veil of softness to you when you slept. A softness and calmness that never graced you during waking hours. He knew it wouldn’t last very long but he wanted to ensure that at least right now, you were okay. But he could not stand and watch all night. He felt creepy enough.

Daryl noticed the little tan book sitting on his bed as soon as he pulled back his curtain. The moonlight slightly gleamed off the sleek shiny cover. Field Guide to Animal Tracks. As Daryl flipped the book open to its title page, he felt his ears and cheeks warm up. Thankfully the darkness concealed his cheeky smile.

To Daryl. Not like you need it. - Y/n.

The group of deer that Daryl had spotted a month ago was still high on his radar. Though he still had yet to actually catch any of them.

The cabbage soup was still hot in your thermal, emitting a cloud of steam when you popped off the lid. You and Daryl sat in each other's company in your typical spot. A large tree had fallen down just at the entrance to a clearing in the woods providing a perfect resting spot. Had it been Spring or Summer you could only imagine the beauty of the green scenery. But this cold winter didn't provide much besides dry grounds, barren trees, and a frozen pond.

There was a peaceful silence that settled, as it always did. You both ate your soups and turned the pages of your books. Surprisingly, Daryl had actually learned a good bit from the book you gifted and he thoroughly enjoyed it.

"Ask ya something'?" You broke your concentration from your book and looked to Daryl. "Ya know why I started coming out here in the first place, right?"

You took a second to think before hesitantly nodding. "Ya never said anything." Daryl truly never understood why. He never hid it from you but still, you never asked questions. You didn't ask what the notes were on all the maps he had, never asked where you were going, or when you'd be back. But he always knew that you knew he wasn't just hunting deer, he was hunting the governor. "What would ya do...? If you ever got to him?"

Perhaps Daryl had pushed too far. Your head snapped back down to your book, though Daryl knew you weren't actually reading anymore. Your eyes were out of focus and your lips formed a frown. You had never taken the time to think about it. You just knew you wanted him to suffer.

Daryl hadn't spoken another word to you since lunch knowing he had poked at a very sensitive subject. "Wait here a second," Daryl said just as you made it back to his bike. He jogged back into the tree line leaving you sitting on the bike, awaiting his return. Daryl returned soon after, a cluster of bright yellow daffodils in hand. You gave him a puzzled glance but as he held out his hand and said, for you, you felt the urgency to cry. Your nose burning up with tingles and your eyes becoming glazed.

"Thought ya might like 'em, I saw them in your book earlier." Your hand gently took them from Daryl's and you stood still. Very still.

Daryl awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. "They're uh...daffodils, right? Start bloomin' late January into March?" He had secretly been sneaking reads of your books over your shoulder. It was so fast it startled him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into you, every muscle in his body stiffened. Daryl was reluctant to hug you back but he gave into his heart and gently laid his arms around your torso. The large jackets you both wore proved to be a barrier from feeling the true touch of the other.

“Thank you.” Your words were raspy and just above a whisper. Had you not been so close, Daryl probably would’ve missed them. “Course.” His words were mumbled against your shoulder, not wanting to make a big deal. A low groan in the distance disrupted your short moment of peace, telling you it was about time to go.

The sun was beginning to set when Daryl’s bike rode up the gravel path to the prison. The smell of a brewing soup hit your nose as the two of you began to walk closer to the dining area. “Find a table, I gotcha.” Daryl’s hand lingered on your shoulder for a second longer than it typically did. Despite wearing such a thick layer of clothes, it was as if you could still feel his touch. Even after he was already at the serving table striking up a conversation with Carol.

You sat your pack down at the usual table. It was farthest to the left, farthest away from all the other tables. “Mind if we join you?” Glenn asked, he and Maggie both holding a steaming bowl. Just as you were about to take your own seat, a loud chuckle sounded snapping you around.

“Oh come on Y/n.” Two men had been walking past on their way to fetch their own dinners. You recognized them, they were commonly on wall duty at Woodbury. The taller one motioned to the flowers that poked out from the front pocket of your jacket. “You can’t be serious.” You could feel your heart drop to the very pit of your stomach. It was as if your body was preparing you for the merciless mocking that was sure to come.

“You’re telling me the Governor’s number one soldier is walking around with flowers in her pockets?”

Stop.

You wanted to say but the words became a ball in your throat. Your eyes darted off to the side. All of a sudden, you didn’t know where to look or what to do with your hands or how to stand properly on your feet. You knew the truth behind their “jokes”.

You are not soft. You are not delicate. You are not loveable.

“The hell are ya doin?” Daryl had practically appeared out of thin air, putting himself between you and the men. You saw this as an opportunity to make an escape for your cell block.

“We were just teasing man. We were friends in Woodbury, just joking around.” They still had slimy smirks on their faces that only poked Daryl even more.

Daryl was fuming. “Didn’t look like she was fucking laughin’.” He took a step closer. “She never fucking laughs!” Before Daryl could unleash his fiery rage, Rick intervened. Rick beckoned Daryl to walk away, mumbling that everyone was looking. “Hell if I care.” Daryl snapped swinging his arm in the air. He turned on his boot and snatched up your pack that you’d left behind before going off to find you.

Daryl hadn’t found you in any of your traditional spots. He checked your cell, the library, the garden, and even the showers. He asked everyone he walked past if they’d seen you but no one had, it was as if you just vanished. And the thought of that was throwing Daryl into a deep pit.

The prison chapel had been restored and decorated by Carol to be used for the grieving prison folk. She had put as many candles as possible on a long wooden table. They had been burned and replaced so frequently that the wax dripped down the sides of the table and dropped dots on the floor. There were many different pictures of lost family members or lovers littering the table…it was quite depressing truthfully. The glow of the candles lit up the room and cast an orange glow on your sad features.

You didn’t look at Daryl as he sat down beside you.

“Didn’t know you were religious.”

“I’m not.”

It was an odd thing…to hear you speak so openly but Daryl wasn’t opposed. “I just…” Your voice was hoarse and low, as low as a whisper. “I find this a way to be with my brother.” Daryl had gotten so used to silence that it almost startled him to hear so many words come from your lips. You shook back the hair that fell on your face and let out a deep sigh, resting your back flat against the wooden church pew. Daryl didn’t want to speak, he didn’t want to scare your voice away, he just wanted to listen.

“I hope that doesn’t sound foolish.”

“It doesn’t.” Daryl shifted himself closer to you. “It doesn’t.” He repeated, his thigh pressed against yours. And for some reason, you felt the need to spill your guts. Perhaps being in a church would drag you to confess. “I-uhmm…I never fought against the prison. I refused to do any of it. I truthfully didn’t care if he killed me for it.” You didn’t have to explain yourself to Daryl but you felt the need to. If what you felt towards him was what you thought, you had to. “But, he just locked me in my room. Wouldn’t let me out.” Somehow, Daryl knew. He never saw you with the Governor, never saw you fighting. And when Rick told him the locked room he found you in, he pieced it together.

“Everything is true though. Everything they say about me, everything he made me do before that.”

Daryl didn’t care, he never had. Daryl cared that you didn’t want to. He cared about the fact that you were forced to. You shrugged your shoulders and looked off, “I’m as guilty as they come.”

Daryl couldn’t stand the sad look on your face, “Alright then…put yer hands behind yer back. I’ll take ya to your cell.” His joking manner caught you so off guard that a laugh escaped you. It was airy and gentle. He truly couldn’t believe it.

You laughed. And Daryl was in church.

Daryl returned to his serious demeanor to reassure you, “I care about how he hurt ya, Y/n. Don’t care what you did.”

Your eyes found Daryl’s in the dimly lit room and for a second you felt it, deep within your chest. And it ached and feared but it also loved. “Good.” You couldn’t fight the smile that squeezed your cheeks as you looked at him. Your eye contact broke allowing silence to welcome itself back. But only for a short time. “Daffodils are the birth flower of March…Jackson and I were born in March.”

After that night in the chapel, Daryl wanted nothing more than to hear your voice. It felt like his ears were filled with honey every time you spoke. It was raspy yet smooth with a hint of a southern drawl from growing up in Georgia. A thick rich honey that he wanted in a cup of hot tea and to take down his throat.

Winter was soon turning to Spring. The sky was bluer and most days the sun shined. The green of the grass and trees were returning. The garden was beginning to look even more promising come warmer weather. And just as the flowers were beginning to take bloom, so were you.

Your hard demeanor had softened, especially for Daryl. You still didn’t talk to many people besides him but you said a word or two when you wanted. Daryl took it upon himself to give Jackson a “grave” where the others were. It was just two pieces of wood, formed into a cross with his name carved in it, planted into the ground. “So that ya don’t have to go down to the chapel. Ya can be outside with him and the garden and stuff.” He had said when he showed you.

“It’s rotten work trying to find these deer.” You and Daryl strolled the wooded area, eyes on the deer tracks that embedded themselves in the dirt. Daryl shushed you and continued his concentration on the tracks. You smiled to yourself and shook your head. “I was rotten work…at the beginning.”

“Nah ya weren’t, not to me.” Daryl didn’t even hesitate, he didn’t even turn look at you. He just continued walking ahead of you, following the tracks.

The two of you settled in your usual spot. Leaning against the fallen tree at the opening to the clearing in the woods. You were right about the clearing looking more beautiful in the warmth of Spring. The trees were plump with fresh green leaves and the water in the pond sparkled under the sunlight. The grass grew tall with a mixture of white and yellow wildflowers. Your fingers ran the edge of the book page as you turned it.

Your current book was, Field Guide to Medical Plants and Herbs. There was some type of cold floating around the prison and finding the medical supplies to treat it was sparse and you’d do anything you could to help.

Daryl was interrupted from tending to his bow by your elbow jabbing his side. Without looking at him, you held up a folded piece of paper and pen. Daryl gave you an odd glare before plucking them from your fingertips. You did this often. When you couldn’t be bothered to use your voice or if you didn’t want to break concentration from a book.

There’s so many things I want to say to you.

Daryl could feel his heart begin to quicken its pace within his chest. He didn’t know what your words meant but at the same time, he did.

The folded paper got tossed back into your lap.

There’s so many things I want to say to you.

So say them.

Just then, a rustling sound sounded from within the trees from across the clearing. You gripped for your blade as Daryl grabbed for his bow. Two deers came through the trees, their white and tan tails flicking back and forth. You could’ve sworn you heard Daryl stop breathing for a second. Daryl slowly leaned up on his knees, bow in hand raising to his eye. Your eye caught it before Daryl’s did.

Another deer emerged from the trees, a fawn close behind her…and then another. “Don’t.” You brought your hand to Daryl’s bow and lowered it to point at the ground. He went to protest but when he saw the twin fawns happily nibbling at the tall grass, he stopped. It was a beautiful sight, as were you.

When your eyes broke away from the deers and to him, that’s when he decided. Daryl cupped your cheek lightly and met your lips with his. His lips were gone just as fast as they were there but his hand didn’t leave. He was still so close that your lips feathered his. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pulled him down to you again.

What happened that day was never spoken of. But as Daryl sat in the darkness of the train cart in Terminus, he so deeply wish it had been.

But now, you were gone as was the prison. The look on your face, when the Governor stood outside the prison, was burned into Daryl’s eyelids. The way your chest heaved with anger, your hands shook with rage, and revengeful teary eyes stared off. The last he saw was you slipping out through the prison fence to go after him. Daryl yelled at you to not do it, to come with him, but you didn’t listen. You’d let yourself die if it meant you finally got your hands on him and Daryl knew it.

You could be dead. You could’ve died weeks ago fighting the Governor. You could be out there alone and starving and scared. Or you could be just fine. Daryl would never know.

When Terminus fell and he watched Rick cuddle and kiss Judith in his arms, he had a surge of hope. And when he saw Carol alive, he had more hope. As everyone said hello, it was as if he waited, waiting for you to magically appear. “Nobody has Y/n?” A deafening silence followed, quieter than you ever were. “Daryl…” Michonne stepped towards him. As he went to walk away, she stopped him placing a hand on rising his chest. “Darlyl. I’m not saying she didn’t make it. I’m just saying she didn’t look good.”

“Yeah? And you didn’t help her?” Daryl snapped shoving her hand off his chest. “Get off me.” Daryl seethed with hot tears in his icy blue eyes. It became an unspoken rule to not speak your name around him.

Your hand pressed firmly on the wound that oozed blood down your side as you limped your way into the cell block. Your right side was stained in the crimson color, all the way down to the knee of your jeans. You strained and let out a groan of pain as you took a step up the stairs that led to your cell. You didn’t need to look at yourself to know you looked awful. The walkers that completely ignored your existence when you limped by them told you enough.

Your entire torso throbbed in pain. The bruising from the kicks you took to the stomach were forming and it felt impossible to move. Your head felt like tv static and you had an undying desire to sleep. But you couldn’t. You likely had a concussion and knew that if you slept now, you wouldn’t be getting back up. Besides, you had to find Daryl. There was a hope that he’d stayed in the area and you’d find him if you just looked. You knew the woods around here well, you could find him. He was waiting for you, he had to be.

In your fuzzy state of mind, you threw whatever you touched into your pack. You changed out of ruined clothes and into clean ones. When the collar of your shirt dragged down your face, you let out a whimper of pain as it got caught on your bottom lip. There was a cut that dragged from the under your left nostril, across the left corner of your lips, and ended at the bottom of your chin.

It became a blur how you left your cell safely and ended up on the path Daryl and you walked every morning. You had to get to your spot. The spot with the fallen tree and clearing. Daryl would wait for you there. You were sure of it. When you got there and he wasn’t there, it was okay, you told yourself. You just had to wait for him.

You lowered yourself to the ground, a few whimpers of pain escaping your lips. With your back resting against the tree and arm draped over your mid section, you slipped into unconscious. You awoke to the sound of a man’s voice. “Hey, hey.” He said trying to wake you but your eyelids were too heavy to lift and you felt the weight of every muscle in your body. “Heath! Go tell Laura to bring the car around. We gotta take her back.”

“It’s a ten hour drive back Aaron, you think she’s gonna make it?”

“I don’t know.”

You awoke with a slight jolt. Your chest heaved with heavy breathes as your eyes dilated to the bright and unfamiliar room. Your body ached but the softness of the mattress you laid on seemed to comfort it. “Pete, go get Deanna.” Aaron instructed, sitting up in his seat next to your bedside. Your eyes wandered the room, trying to figure out where you were. “Hey. I’m Aaron. You’re in the infirmary in a community called Alexandria.” You looked to the man that sat to your right. He had a very kind face and gentle eyes. His clothes were perfectly clean and his curly brown hair was freshly washed and fluffy.

“Myself and others were on a trip along the East Coast to look for survivors to bring here.” Aaron clarified further, “We found you and brought you back, you were in really bad shape…you still…you still kind of are.”

Aaron could see the confusion and panic drawn on your face. Your head snapped to the door when you heard footsteps on the polished wood floors. “Hi” Deanna gently said approaching your bedside. “We’ve been waiting for you to wake up. What’s your name?”

Your mouth hung open for a second, your mind still wasn’t clear, and you had no clear memory of the last three days. “Y/n” You finally replied, voice hoarse and raspy. Deanna smiled at you, “Where am I?” You asked finally finding your voice. Deanna and Aaron exchanged a glance, “You’re in a safe community called Alexandria in Virginia.”

Virginia?

You could feel your world begin to tumble, a thousand thoughts racing your mind. You were so far away from Georgia. You were away from home. Away from Daryl. “No.” You attempted to pull yourself out of the bed but were stopped by Aaron softly holding you back. “No, no, no.” You repeated and dropped your head down into your hands as panicked sobs racked your chest. “Pete! Go get her something to calm down.”

You didn’t want pills to help calm down. You wanted to go home. You wanted to be with him. You sat yourself up in the bed despite the pain in your torso telling you not to. “Daryl?” You asked Deanna. She could see the desperation in your teary eyes, “I’m sorry we only found you.”

Aaron sat up from the dirt floor of the barn after Rick had knocked him unconscious. Rick’s group continuously went back and forth with one another debating their plan. Once they finally decided and everyone was being assigned a position, Rick turned to Daryl. “Daryl, go keep an eye-“

“Wait, Daryl?” Aaron interrupted Rick’s order from his spot on the floor. He felt everyone’s eyes on him in an instant. “Daryl Dixon, right? Y-you knew an Y/n?” Daryl stomped over to Aaron and gripped him by the front of his shirt, pulling him close. “How the hell ya know Y/n?” Daryl’s tone was threatening yet shaky. Aaron knew if he didn’t start talking he’d end up back on the floor.

“She’s in Alexandria, she lives with me, she’s safe! A-a little over a month ago, myself and others were on a trip along the East Coast looking for survivors. We found her in the woods down in Georgia.” Aaron took a pause, “She was in really bad shape, we brought her back and she’s been there ever since.”

“She talks about you all the time.” Daryl’s hand shook around the fabric of Aaron’s shirt, his eyes studied his face trying to find any indicator that he was lying. ”I don’t fuckin’ believe ya.” The thought of you being alive and safe comforted Daryl but he wouldn’t so easily believe a stranger. “I’m not lying, I swear.” Aaron frantically said, “She-she gave me something to give to you. It’s in the front pocket of my bag.”

Daryl shoved Aaron back to the ground with a thud. Rick tossed Aaron’s bag to Daryl, practically tearing off the zipper getting into it. Daryl’s unsteady hands pulled out the familiar small tan book. As he flipped open to the title page, he read the words you’d written to another that day.

There’s so many things I want to say to you.

So say them.

As Daryl read the new words you’d written, he could feel the lump forming in his throat.

It was easier to die than to say them.

“I probably should’ve led with that, huh?” Aaron joked attempting to lighten the mood. Rick’s gruff voice responded, “Shut up.”

The sun shined in Alexandria despite the rainstorm that came through the night before. You found yourself where you always were, in the gardens. The heavy rain had bent many of the plants out of shape and the raised wooden garden beds were flooded. The mixture of water and grass squelched under your boots as you examined the damage. With a deep sigh, you pulled out a box of cigarettes from your back pocket along with a zippo lighter. It wasn’t a habit you proudly picked back up. But after the fall of the prison and Daryl no longer being there to help you, it found its way back.

You tilted your head up to the sky and blew the smoke from your lips. You closed your eyes and let the sunlight cast its rays onto your face. And as you did, you tried to imagine that you were standing in the garden of the prison again. That Daryl stood only a few feet away, fighting with a vegetable, and cursing as he did.

“Hey Y/n.”

Spencer disrupted your daydream, standing a few feet away and calling out your name. “Sorry,” He jokingly held up his hands in surrender, “Aaron’s back, he asked for you at the gate.” Aaron had returned to Alexandria several times over the past month with new faces. Every time you’d go to the gate and wait for him to return, your heart full of hope. But every time the same disappointment rained down on you. It was never who you wanted, it was never him. So, when Aaron told you about a group he’d been tracking and trying to bring back, you didn’t care to listen. You saved my ass and now you think you can save everyone? You said to him a few nights ago.

“Going.” You replied bluntly. You wouldn’t allow your hopes to grow just to be smashed into pieces. Your eyes were on the ground as you walked to the front gate, cigarette dangling from your lips, and hair falling in your face. Spencer talked his jaw off beside you, every word he spoke going in one ear and out the other. But the sound of a familiar whistle vibrating against your eardrums perked your head up in an instant.

You tossed your cigarette from your mouth and found your way back to him. Daryl met you halfway, his arms desperately pulling you in close. Your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, feeling his shaky breaths on the skin of your own. Your hair was soft and smelled of shampoo. Daryl grasped the fabric of your shirt that smelled ever so slightly of cigarettes.

When Daryl pulled away to look at you, he finally saw the fresh scar drawn on your lips. He wanted to scold you. To tell you how foolish you'd been to go after the Governor alone. "Ya got him?" Was all he could bring himself to ask. You avoided answering but you nodded, "Come on, I wanna go see everyone else."

Despite the group still not fully trusting Alexandria, they felt more at ease knowing you’d been kept safe here. After helping Rick settle the group into the Alexandrian homes, you sat on the front porch with Daryl. Daryl hadn’t let you out of his sight for a second. Everything you did and every where you went, he was there. Besides when Carol shoved him away to shower.

The two of you passed back and forth a lit cigarette, comfortable in the silence of the night air. “Tara asked me about the Governor.” Your words were quiet just incase anyone were listening. Daryl looked to you. “Yeah?” With a deep sigh, you blew the smoke from your mouth. “Yeah…asked what he did to me.”

Daryl could see the way the thought of it dragged your lips into that familiar frown. “Told her I didn’t wanna make her guilty conscious even worse.” You said it as if it was meant to be a joke but Daryl saw through it. “It’s gettin late.” Daryl begin to break you from those thoughts. He was right. The sun had set about an hour ago and everyone was setting up their beds for the night.

“Ya ah….Ya gonna go home?” Daryl didn’t want you to leave, he never wanted to be without you again. “I am home.” There was no hesitation in your reply. Daryl’s eyes snapped to yours in an instant. “Ain’t what I meant.” You stood from your spot and reached a hand out to him, “Come with me.” Daryl glanced between your hand and your eyes. The night was dark and the porch light dim but you could see the rosy color blotch at his cheeks. You lightly kicked his foot with your own, “Just wanna show you where I’ve been staying.”

Your room was in the fully furnished basement of Aaron and Eric’s home. Aaron had welcomed you in, knowing you couldn’t be on your own in your condition. The stairs were on the farthest right wall of the basement, leading you down into a lounge like area with tan carpet and white walls. An L shaped leather couch sat in front of a, now useless, flat screen TV. Past the couch, on the back wall, stood two white doors. Daryl presumed behind one of them laid your bedroom.

You walked him over to the left door and pushed it open. There was nothing special about your room. Simply a bed, two nightstands, a dresser, and a bookshelf in the corner. You sat at the foot of your bed, Daryl took it as a sign to do the same. “I’m sorry Daryl.” Your voice was just above a whisper, avoiding his eyes when you spoke. “I should’ve looked harder for him…I shouldn’t of gotten so distracted.” Your head hung low in shame, “I should’ve talked about that day..in the woods.” The dimly lit room hid the tears that fell from your eyes. “I should’ve said everything I wanted to say.”

“We should’ve.” Daryl corrected you, stopping all your blabbering. Your watery eyes met his with a look of confusion. “Everythin’ ya said. I was there too. S’not all your fault Y/n.” The impact of Daryl’s words made you go quiet. “Ain’t yer fault what he did to you either.”

“I love you.”

Daryl had never shut his mouth so fast in his life. You weren’t sure where your outburst of confidence came from but you didn’t regret it. You accepted it every waking day and every sleepless night you were apart from him. “Nah, ya don’t.” Daryl rejects your confession at the grace of his own insecurity. Your hands raise themselves to his face, a stern look gracing your features. “I have since the prison.”

Daryl didn’t know what to do. He could feel his heart pounding against his chest and the warmth from your hand on his cheek. You gently lean in before connecting your lips with his. When you pulled away, you rested your forehead against his own. If you had just ruined everything Daryl and you had, you at least wanted to bask in his presence one last time. “I love ya too.” Daryl leaned back in, capturing your lips in his.

The night you’d spent together was full of gentle touches and whispers. The only time silence happened was the sleep bestowed upon you afterwards. Your bedroom was dimly lit come morning time. The only windows in your room were up towards the ceiling, just above ground level. For the first time since Jackson died, you woke up peacefully. No panic attack awaiting you, no need to run away and fill your lungs with smoke. Feelings of the night before returned to your mind, memories in vivid detail. Daryl awoke when he felt the movement of the sheet from beside him.

With your back turned to him, Daryl took it upon himself to graze the skin of your bare back with his fingertips. He caught a glance at the deep scarring along your side. The gash had turned into a raised, dark pink, bruised color on your skin. Daryl could see shadow of lines covering its length from the stitches that had held it together.

As his fingertips traveled down, they stopped on another scar. The left side of your lower back was imbedded with the letter “G”. The scarring of the initial raised your skin, though it wasn’t pink and bruised like the other. It had healed to a shade paler than your skin tone. Daryl simply couldn’t believe it. Fucking bastard.

“Branding iron.” You begin, voice slightly rasp from sleep. “Never did it to anyone else…just me.” Daryl’s hand fell from your back, “Come here.” You reluctantly did so, turning to face him. His hand found the side of your face that didn’t rest on the plush pillow. His facial expression’s became serious but his eyes remained gentle. “Ain’t gonna let no one treat you like that ever again. Ya feel like someone breathes around ya the wrong way, you tell me alright?” You playfully rolled your eyes, a cheeky smile forming but you still replied “Alright.”

Daryl thumb drug along your bottom lip, stopping at the pale scar. “Promise ya won’t ever stop doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“…Bein’ happy.”

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A/n: I've proof read this over and over so I hope everyone is able to enjoy it and theres no mistakes! If anyone would like to submit a request, feel free too. If it's a project i'd be willing to take on, I will try my best to get to it.

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lilgoblinbitch · 24 days

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☾₊˚ ༘⋆

daryl dixon is a munch.

that man LOVES eating your pussy. everything about it makes him rock fucking hard; your moans, the way you tangle your hands in his hair when he licks and sucks your pulsing cunt, and how you wrap your thighs around his head ensuring he doesn’t stop. but he doesn’t stop, he keeps going. his face is between your legs for 10 minutes, 30 minutes, hell sometimes even hours. he just can’t get enough.

daryl dixon also likes to fuck.

he loves watching your eyes roll to the back of your skull while he pounds into you, hips rutting into your core with his big hands manhandling your thighs. he always makes you feel good. always paying special attention to your sensitive little bud.

“feels so good, daryl.” you’d say.

“doin’ s’good f’me, baby.”

he loves praising you. you’re always so good for him. your cunt is a prison, and his cock is the prisoner; except he won’t be bailing out.

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#the walking dead #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon #daryl dixon drabble #twd #twd smut #twd drabble #twd headcanons #twd daryl #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x fem!reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x you #goblin writes #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl dixon headcanon #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl smut

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sleepyangelkami · 20 days

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WICKED d.dixon

☆ WORD COUNT - 2.1K

DARYL DIXON X FEM!READER

☆ SUMMARY - you were sensitive, daryl was hot headed. daryl often carried anger in his voice to protect you, never did you think he'd use it against you.

☆ WARNINGS - yelling, argument, sensitive!reader, blood, gore, fighting walkers, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

the prison had fallen, tensions were rising. it was just you and daryl on the roads now, attempting to find your group again. you should have noticed the way he shook his head earlier or the way he sighed loudly and squeezed his eyes shut.

you cursed yourself for not knowing sooner.

daryl dixon was never a man that anyone could say was overly patient. but when it came to you, he’d wait years for you to utter a mere sentence. he was suddenly as patient as they come. but that didn’t change his true nature.

you’d been separated from the group for quite a while now. it was just the two of you on the roads.

at first, you’d been silent as a mouse, wondering if everyone was okay.

soon after, you realised that it was daryl who was also just as silent. you began speaking, in hopes of raising his mood. you assured him, the group had found their way back to them hundreds of times before, this would undoubtedly be no different.

but daryl didn’t so much as glance at you, barely letting out a grunt before turning his head. obviously, your plan in trying to lift his mood only dampened it.

however, you didn’t stop there.

and you should have, you really should have.

perhaps if you’d spent less time talking and waffling on, he wouldn’t be as angry as he was. perhaps if you’d just listened to him and nodded with your head bent, he wouldn’t have snapped.

albeit everything was happening so quickly.

you hadn’t even registered the infected make their way out. it took only moments before your life practically flashed before your eyes.

daryl’s back was against yours, his own knife out as he plunged it into walkers heads. in return, you attempted to do the same, holding the knife at it’s base with shaky hands. but you weren’t strong nor brave like daryl was. when fighting, it was obvious just how different the two of you were, how different you’ve always been. and you couldn’t lie as to say it wasn’t throwing you off your game.

not that you ever really had game.

a walker grabbed at your shoulders causing you to let out a fearful whimper. you used the time you had to plunge the knife into it’s head. your eyes widened as you missed the brain, blood spurted out into your face and onto your clothes. you took the knife out and tried again, this time the walker fell limp at your feet.

before you could so much as try and attempt to take out another walker, one practically lurched onto you from the side.

daryl felt you hit against his back and cursed you. you were so damn clumsy and usually, he was okay with it. more often than not he’d smile at you, kiss your hurt forehead and tell you that you must begin looking where you’re going but now, he was anything but comforting. if anything, it took everything in him not to spin around and yell at you then and there.

but he didn’t, merely because he was too preoccupied with killing the walker in his hands. he plunged the knife forward, hitting two walkers and piercing straight through their heads. with a separate hand, he shoved the knife into another.

he couldn’t deny the relief that flooded his veins as he took out every last walker on his side.

he rolled his eyes before readying his arms, beginning to spin around and just knowing you’d need help.

his eyes widened at the sight of you on the ground.

foot pushing up against a walker, you attempted to get it away. while another was crawling on you, you could have let out a whimper, knowing your knife had been tossed away from you.

there were too many.

as if the ‘big man in the sky’ had answered your prayers, you closed your eyes shut at the feeling of blood spurting out onto your face. finally, you peeled them open upon the sound of groaning and gargling coming to a stop. the sight of daryl dixon came into view, he’d taken out every last walker.

and he did not look pleased.

“daryl―” you couldn’t so much as get a word out. before you could even try to defend your cause, he was speaking.

“are you fuckin’ stupid?!” daryl was an angry man, through and through. he channelled that anger, using it for things like this, taking out walkers or any other said enemy. never, had you been on the receiving end of his bellowing voice. “you ain’ gonna fucking make it out here if you need me watching your back every other second!”

you could feel your eyes sting, pathetically.

you didn’t want to cry nor did you want to let daryl see you cry, not like this. he’d wiped your tears a thousand times over, even if it was because someone was yelling at you. you’d claim that it’s no big deal, that you were being dramatic and he’d always swoop in, telling you that it’s not dramatic and nobody should yell at a ‘flower like you’. you wondered what changed. “i was trying.” you uttered out pathetically once more, voice all broken.

“wasn’t tryin’ enough!” his hand roughly grabbed yours, practically hoisting you up from the ground. you let out the smallest of whimpers. not because it hurt but because you’d never seen him this angry at you. “are you hurt?” but his voice was anything but caring. it seemed as though you were just another burden to him.

instead of replying, you merely shook your head, it was bent down so he couldn’t see your watery eyes.

but he took it as a well enough response, because he cleared his throat, pocketing his knife. “we have to keep moving.” you wondered if he’d fallen guilty after his words spat you in the face, you guessed he did because for the duration of the walk, he kept glancing back at you, as if to see if you were still so upset.

and you were.

perhaps it really was a silly thing to be upset about. but daryl knew how much you hated yelling. he was well aware of all the baggage it came from, the flashbacks it may have caused. he knew you better than anyone, he’d been the one to wipe your tears from the same thing many times ago.

deep down you knew he was only yelling because the emotions were high. he was worried about the kids of the prison, everyone else. he was worried about rick and carl, carol and judith, everyone there was to worry about, he was doing the worrying. he got in his head like that a lot.

but that didn’t change the fact that he’d yelled at you so easily, as if he’d been dying to all day.

and could you so much as blame him anymore? you had been talking his ear off. no doubt, because you thought you were doing the right thing but you tried to put yourself in his shoes. you’d get annoyed too, right?

the difference between you both?

you never would have so much as dreamed about talking to him the way he spoke to you.

“there’s a cabin around here, we’ll hole up for the night.” he received no response, so he turned his head. “y’ listening?”

once again, you didn’t speak, merely nodding. he sighed before turning his head and squeezing his eyes shut. he didn’t apologise, stubborn to the end. he didn’t often apologise to you, probably because he never found himself in a position where he had to but you were the complete opposite, always apologising profoundly for everything you did, even if it hadn’t been your fault.

you wondered if he wasn’t apologising because he wasn’t actually sorry.

he used his hand to beat down on the door, waiting to hear groans and gurgles. when he didn’t, he opened the door, peering inside. it was safe.

he let you go, watching as you practically scurried inside, ready to get away from the horrid outside world. maybe you were ready to get away from him. he found guilt eating at his insides, like a walker biting into flesh. the thought of you being angry with him was worse than the thought of getting bit right about now.

but he knew you, knew you more than anyone. and he knew you weren’t angry with him, you were merely upset.

stubborn as he was, he needed to make it better for he shouldn’t have yelled at you, as annoyed as he was.

after lighting a fire, he made his way towards the kitchen, where he somehow knew you’d be. as if he could sense your presence and everywhere it loomed. he could have spotted the back of your head from a mile away. there you were, stood in the kitchen in front of the sink, you must have been checking if they had running water. surprise, surprise, they didn’t.

he leaned his body against the door frame, head gently landing on it as he watched you. you were yet to notice his presence, your hands scrubbing dryly at the other. there was blood coating all over your hands, not your own, walker blood. you needed it off and you needed it off now.

daryl knew how you got, always fussing over getting dirty as it was but when it came to walkers, you didn’t want any of it on you. it was always a challenge when the group was willingly putting walker guts all over their coats to disguise themselves.

he’d had enough of watching you, opting to walk inside the room. “c’mere, angel.” you heard his words, freezing up and he could only feel guilt eat at his bones. he carried a cloth, slightly damp. you allowed him to take your hands in his own, cloth gently working against the dirtied skin. “y’alright?” you didn’t respond, nodding.

you hadn’t so much as opened his mouth since he’d yelled at you.

“baby…” and then he heard it, the mere sniffle that had you turning your head.

“‘m okay.” voice cracking showing that you were not, in fact, okay.

he could only frown at you. he felt you try to move away but his hands kept you still, grasping your own and keeping you in place. he waited in silence until you were ready to look up at him. when you did, he almost wished you’d hadn’t. your eyes were red rimmed and watery. you’d been crying. no longer was there that judgemental piece in his eyes. instead, you could only catch the guilt swarming in them.

“‘m sorry.” was the words that you practically clung to, that left his mouth. “‘m so sorry, baby, c’mere.” you felt his arms wrap you up.

you were too upset to argue.

so instead, you allowed him to take you into an embrace, hell you threw your arms around his neck to hold him impossibly closer. there was that gentle feeling again, the one you’d longed for so much. but you couldn’t have asked, no. how could you ask for comfort from the same person that’d hurt you in the first place?

thankfully, daryl made most of your decisions for you.

“‘m sorry.” you croaked out. “i wasn’t looking and then the walker just came out of nowhere and i swear i tried―”

daryl was quick to cut you off.

your head was held in his own dirty hands. though you hated the dirt on yourself, there was almost a comforting feeling to the dirt on him. perhaps it was the familiarity. “you ain’ got nothin’ to be sorry for, alright? nobody should yell at you, ‘specially not me.”

you didn’t know whether to agree or not.

“you did what you could ‘n i’m proud of you, y’know that?” you felt your eyes begin to get watery again, god you wished you could stop crying. as if he could read your mind, he spoke, “‘n it’s okay to cry, i was bein’ an asshole.”

you sniffled before giggling slightly. “you were.”

he couldn’t help the way his lips turned up at the sound he’d missed so dearly. “yeah, i was, wasn’t i? ‘m just… worried, y’know? for everyone. not everyone has a flower like you in their group.”

you shook your head with a sniffle, ignoring his words directed to you. “they’re gonna be fine, we’ll find ‘em.”

“yeah, we will.” he nodded, as if whatever came from your mouth, he could suddenly believe. you had that effect on him that he’d never tell. “but right now, i jus’ care about you, alright? c’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.”

and how could you deny hands once so angry, now so gentle?

main masterlist/daryl's masterlist

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ruewrote · 2 years

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𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓𝑖𝑠ℎ.

PAIRING: carl grimes x fem!reader WARNINGS: strong language GENRE: angst SONG INSPIRATION: selfish by madison beer WORD COUNT: 556 PARTS: one two

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ever since the group had gotten settled into alexandria you and carl had definitely drifted from each other. he’d deliberately go off with the other kids. even when you had tried to make plans with him, he blew them off.

once he had changed schedules for his supply runs, that’s when you really had stopped trying.

that didn’t stop you from still watching over him and his family, you often went over and helped rick with judith and he was incredibly appreciative and for sure had brought up that he noticed the drastic change to yours and his son’s friendship.

three months ago today you had finally found this wonderful place. you should be over the moon, filled with joy even. it never came.

you sat with your knees pressed to your chest, tears running down your cheeks - playing with the friendship bracelet that was still attached to your wrist which was a gift from him back when you guys were at the prison, it was now worn out but of course you kept it.

footsteps were heard walking toward you, so you quickly wiped your eyes and covered up the band. looking up and were met with the last person you wanted to see.

your eyes were back to being glued to the ground, sat in the same way as you were before as he sat beside you. a what was once comforting silence now awkward surrounding the two of you.

tears stung in your eyes as you glanced over at him, “i hate you.” your voice shook as the tears started to fall. his own filling with regret.

“i hate that you think you can just walk over here and act like everything’s perfectly fine between us when it’s clearly not!” carl sat and listened to what you had to say - what was well overdue.

“you’re selfish. y-you abandoned me when i needed you the most,” the lump in your throat only getting worse as you spoke.

his eyes locked onto your own, “i never left. i’ve been right here.”

his empty words made you scoff and roll your eyes, making it seem like he hadn’t made such an effort to be as far away from you as possible.

you stood up abruptly - looking down at him. “i can’t believe you, you will sit there and lie to me after you know you did literally everything to not see or be near me. god even your dad thought it was weird that we weren’t around each other.”

“so don’t you fucking dare try and tell me you were there for me when you clearly weren’t.” he only got angrier.

“you were too goddamn clingy y/n, you were never not latched to my side, you needed to grow the fuck up.”

the pain flooded throughout your body, his words dug deep into your heart. he tried to reach out and hold you and apologise, but it was too late. you pulled away from his touch, the words coming out of his mouth sounded distant and muffled. that’s all he thought of you? all that time?

your steps staggered backwards, carl walked closer to you still trying to explain himself, you started to walk away from him but not before you ripped the bracelet off your arm and threw it at him.

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carlplsrailme · 2 years

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𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐛 | 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬

summary: as Carl and Ron battle out over Y/n's attention, she realizes she felt something never before for one of them

carl grimes x fem!reader

cw: jealousy, petty boys, breaking into readers home, fluff & smut, fingering, pussy eating, breast play, virginity loss, nice dom!carl, pet names (baby, doll), a bit of dacryphilia, sex (no condom).

word count: 2k

request (1) : ahhh i absolutely LOVE your work ohmygod😭 could you maybe write a oneshot where the reader is a newcomer in alexandria and catches carl’s eye but ron also develops a crush on them and the boys kinda just battle for the reader’s attention 😩 and my boy carl wins obviously 💪with maybe some smut too

request (2) : hey i was wondering if you could write something like carl fingering the reader but it’s not enough and she wants more but carl doesn’t wanna hurt her because he’s really big so she tells him ‘please i promise it won’t hurt i can take it’ and he ends up giving in but when she’s whining and tearing up he mocks her for it then just goes harder saying ‘is this what you wanted’ with a lot of degrading and some praise at the end? sorry if it’s too much :)

you suck the inside of your cheek as you started to be dragged by Ron, sticky summer heat on your open legs as he takes you to his table to eat lunch...tho you would much rather stick by yourself, the urge to please these new folks consumed you -you were their guest, after all.

so you bit your tongue and wore a smile, slightly widening your eyes when his voice raises in excitement as he is in deep with a story you know nothing about, mimicking his features as you're too caught up in your thoughts to know whats actually happening

you're new to Alexandria, wandering out by yourself when Carl found you -the knife in your hand was about to be in his throat when you first spotted him, hiding behind boxes as his eyes landed on yours, in shock you froze how did he see you? but Carl was a lot more observant than you thought

which leads to now, where he uses his observant skills for pure evil

"Hey," he says casually, strolling over as you almost immediately catch how Ron's face drops

"Hey" you say, quickly smiling at him as Rons bitterly states"Hi"

"So, Y/n, we still on for today?" Fuck. why did he have to mention we have plans today?

"Oh..uh, yeah" you answer, eyes slowly shifting to the side to see a very displeased Ron

"Cool. see you then" he smiled proudly, looking at Ron for what you can only assume to be for a reaction -which he totally gave him- and walked away

"What's happening today?" He asked, trying to sound relaxed but irritation lacing each word

"Oh, it's just...um, me and carl are just gonna hang out" you quickly mumble, messing with your food as the atmosphere became even more uncomfortable

"Oh that sucks, I was hoping to spend the day with you" he leaves open-ended, half expecting and half hoping for you to move your plans with Carl and replace it with his

"maybe tomorrow" you puckered your lips before standing up with a smeared plate in hand, mumbling how you'll see him later as you sped walked away from that table

"why do you love pissing him off?" you questioned as you stepped over fallen tree branches and pointy twigs, Carl's hand gently strolling you away to a place you know nothing about

"I don't" he said almost planned, thank goodness you couldn't see the smirk on his face, you were about to answer right back but the halt of his footsteps caught up to you

"Ta-da!" he announces proudly, spinning to you with a nervous smile, hoping you'd like the creation he built just for you two

your eyes laned on a fallen trunk that was wiped clean from any soggy rain and unexpecting plants, you felt your lips tug into a smile as you notice an open locker tucked full of comics and forgotten sodas piled up on the blanket laid out for comfort

"wow...Carl, you made this?" You say in half disbelief, why would he make this...for you?

"yeah, for us- I mean anyone but like...yeah" he stumbles on his words as he dips his head down, hoping you wouldn't catch the blush on his cheeks for admitting that yes, this was made special for the both of you

"t-the sodas are warm, sorry, but um- the comics are there if you wanna read them...I didn't know what you'd like so sorry if they're boring-" he got cut off by your hand hitting his hat up from behind, blinding him for a couple of seconds as his shoulders tensed from the sudden attack, you laugh and mumble "you're such a dork" and take a seat at the fallen tree, grabbing one of the sodas and cracking it open as Carl quickly sits next to you, whispering "'m not" while he grabs a comic

that night you laid in your bed with a smile stuck on your lips, hanging out with Carl made it seem like the world didn't go to shit. he made you so unbelievably happy and you just couldn't help but prayed he felt the same. but there was any other feeling deep in you that you couldn't quite read, you weren't sure how you felt, all you knew is that you wanted to stay with Carl and stay reading comics and drinking warm sodas together

"no, because...what the fuck"

the boys look at you, irritation leaving their eyes and their features becoming fearful as they see your presence

you heard a struggle break out from downstairs, you raced down -knife in hand- to see Carl and Ron fighting with some burning eggs on the stove

and now they are sitting in front of you, messing with their fingertips with their heads low, you're sitting in front of them with crossed arms and a scowl on your face

"so, what the fuck happened"

"Carl was acting weird so I followed him, he came in through your front door and-" "BULLSHIT!" Carl shouted, turning to him with pure confusion and rage hyping up his veins

"Let him finish" you announce, exhausted from being abruptly woken up at 6 am

though, you weren't so tired that you missed how Ron smirked at what he thought was you defending him. you only stopped Carl because you wanted to hear this dumbass story he is making up.

"Well, Uhm, He went into your house and then started making you breakfast, I startled him and he freaked out, I was confused why he was sneaking around but then it hit me that he wasn't supposed to be there, so I started fighting him," He said in an innocent tone, bringing his low head up to meet your sharp eyes which he'd assume would soften from his story

you zoned out halfway through, locking eyes with a clock that screamed 8 in the fucking morning.

"Can I say my part now? you know, the truth?" Carl asked, slightly laughing at this bullshit

"no"

"what?" Carl asked quickly, the hope that he had for you that you'd know him well enough to where he wouldn't do something like this started to slip

"no. but I'll tell mine" you uncrossed your legs as you wore a smile, explaining to the boys that a painting in your room fell off the wall at 6 am, and how you couldn't seem to fall back asleep -especially at a time like that

so when you heard a shout from outside, roughly 7:30, you went to check it out, seeing from your window Carl chasing after Ron as he sneaks into your house, you ran to grab a knife and to sprit downstairs but when you heard Carl defending you and Ron just talking shit about how he's gonna get with you, you decided to listen in, then sprint downstairs with a knife tight in your grip.

Carl wore a smile with slightly pink cheeks as he watched you kick Ron out, calling him a jackass and a lot more vulgar things he'd honestly expect from you when you're pissed off

and when he was gone you sat back down with him, your sour features turning sweet when you saw him

"So, why'd you follow him?" you asked, half joking half curious, as you both break into laughter

"You see a guy walking into a girl's house with his toes, you follow him. simple as that."

well, it wasn't as simple as that. as it's 11 pm at your window is being abused by pebbles. you helped the one-eyed boy in as he sat across from you on your bed

"Sorry If I woke you-" "you didn't."

"Uhm so about earlier..." he looked away with blush stuck on his cheeks, stuttering to speak as he takes a deep breath to control himself

"s-so, I have a crush on you- I think- no, I know"

your eyes widen at the confession, feeling your heart skip and your lips twitch into a smile

"Uhm, it's ok if you don't feel the same- it's just it's been eating me up, so it's uh, sorr-" you cut him off with your lips smashing into his, kissing him deeply as you confess your shared feelings to him

he giggles like a little boy as he laid you down on the bed, hands finding your waist as your lips never separated, he added his tongue which made you moan on accident, his tongue lapped on yours as it twisted and twirled in your mouth, he grabbed your hands and trapped them above your head as you felt this hard jab in your thigh

"s-shit I'm sorry" he confesses, you're confused for a moment before looking down to see his hard-on, you smile and kiss him again, "It's okay" you mumbled on his lips as your hand carried down to his pants, rubbing his dick slowly as he moaned to you

"Carl, c-can we?" you asked, hinting at the word as embarrassment showers over you

"y-yes, if you are ok with it," he said like you didn't just ask, his shaky fingertips unbutton your shorts, pulling them down to see your pretty little clothed cunt, he groaned at the sight, placing his thumb right at the hood of your clit applying more pressure as you squirmed and whined

you hurried to remove your shirt and bra, being left in your panties as he was left in his boxers, he move down to be face to face with the outlined portion of your cunt, kissing and sucking at your thighs before pulling your panties down, a string of wetness connected to the material as you look away in embarrassment and he simply chuckles

"aw, don't look away baby" he coos, you look down to see him between your thighs, flashing you a pure smile before dipping down to your drooling pussy, licking a sharp line up your slit and watching as you moaned out his name

he went back in, basically making out with your pussy as he moves up to your clit, pressing his tongue on your clit as he applies more pressure, you squirm in his hold as he ruthlessly and repeatedly flicks his tongue against your clit

he reached a hand up to mess with your breasts, squeezing enough to make you moan but never too hard as he rolled his thumb over your nipple and rolled his tongue over your clit

"f-fuck Carl, p-please don't stop!"

with his other hand, he enters your hole with one finger, slowly as you scream his name

he kissed your clit as he moved up to watch your tight little hole struggle to fit one of his fingers

"mm, baby, how are we gonna do this?" he asked, slightly laughing as your hole clenched and unclenched around him. if just his finger getting sucked in deeper was too much, what was his cock gonna do to you?

"w-we can! It'll work, m'promise" you say dizzy headed his finger stretches you out

"It's gonna hurt baby, and that's the last thing I wanna do"

he entered another finger in, you how were screaming as you never felt like this before, Carl chuckled as he saw your eyes glimmer and flash with tears brimming in pleasure

he watched mockingly as he made a V with his fingers, loving the way your little hole tried to close in on em

"I don't know if it'll fit baby, you're tight as ever"

"please! I promise it won't hurt! I-I can take it!" you beg, his fingers are new and amazing but it just isn't enough

he curled his fingers up, and you cried out his name, cum flashing down his fingers as you assume that's his answer

"P-Please just fuck me!" but he didn't respond, no, instead he removes his fingers and rubs them all over your pussy folds, you wore a confused but curious face as Carl looked back up to you,

"what? there's no way it's gonna fit without some sorta lube. " he watched as you smile at him, excited as he moves his boxers down and suddenly you're fearful as ever

he moves his cum soaked fingers over his cock as he jerks it to harden it up even more -like the poor boy wasn't throbbing before-

he moved his tip to your entrance, looking back up to you as he grabbed one of your hands and reassured you if it hurts he'll stop, you nodded and he moved in

you suddenly let out a yelp as his cock moved in, burning and pulling of your walls being stretched was almost unbearable, but you knew that with the pain there will be pleasure

"I- Is the h-head in now?" you whined, he stumbled a confused glance as he confessed that not even the tip was in and you realized you never felt more embarrassed in your life

"don't worry baby It'll be in soon," he said while laughing, you cross your arms and looked away with a pout on your lips too cute not to kiss off, after kisses and complements he was back to the task at hand

your teeth sunk deeper into your lip as you licked the blood that seeped out, fuck, it hurt. it felt like everything was on fire but with Carl in your ear, mumbling "it's okay" and "aww, you're doing so good" it was enough for you to quite literally bite your tongue until it was fully in

Carl was a dream with letting you adjust, he wasn't impatient or pushy, letting you take your time until you were ready.

but when gave him the okay...that Carl was gone.

his cock was relentless, jamming in and out of your tight hole as you whine and pleaded for him to slow down -but deep down you didn't want him to, and he knew it with the way your pussy tightened around him-

his hand landed on your lower abdomen and felt where in dick landed, mumbling "fuck, I'm so deep baby, you feel that?"

"C-Carl please, I-"

"'I-' what? isn't this what you wanted baby? what happened to "P-Please just fuck me"?" he mocked, you never felt more embarrassed in your life, and it didn't help that the way he mocked you was so fucking hot

he rammed his cock deeper, tip hitting your cervix repeatedly as his grith made you dizzy

"fuck, doesn't it feel good baby? enough whining can get you what you want, huh?" but you couldn't respond, how could you? with your pupils spinning and his hard cock mercilessly forced into your needy pussy

"answer me, doll"

"y-yes! it please it feels so good!"

his balls smacked against your ass as he continued on at an unruly pace, you fall into a trance of knowing nothing except him and his cock, pretty veins being shown as he removes himself to just the tip and rammed it back into the warm home of your cunt

"do you think Ron's this good, baby?"

"n-no!" he somehow made himself deeper as he asked you again, you moaned louder, "N-NO!" as he kissed you, "that's what I thought"

"C-Carl, I think 'm gonna c-cum" you whispered on his lips, he kissed you once more as he confessed that he was close as well. you moaned as he sped up once more, placing his thumb on your clit as he rubbed the red swollen bud as he taunted you

"cum baby, wanna see your cream dripping down my cock" his deep voice hissed, he threw his head back as his throat bobbed, brown baby hairs had sweat dripping off them as they stuck onto his face for dear life

"f-fuck! I'm cumming!" you moaned as you came down his cock, he groaned as he held your hand harder and shot his cum deep into your pussy.

he placed himself lovingly on top of you as he kissed your abused lips, he moved your connected hands on your chest as he whispered,

"you did so good baby"

you could only nod as you were completely fucked out, he chucked and kissed you again as he got up to get a warm washcloth

he cleaned you up and cuddled with you, your face digging into his shoulder as he rubbed your back, "I love you" he mumbled, he was nervous but knew that this is how he felt, but he couldn't feel any happier when you whispered back,

"I love you too"

an: ahhh hi guys! thank you so much for 90 followers! sorry this took so long hehe!! I decided to mix 2 request so I hope you guys don't mind! I really liked this one actually, thank you guys so much for reading & sending stuff in!! lysm, mwah <3

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ysoandi · 2 years

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Oneshot, imagine and drabble requests are currently open for The Walking Dead!

Shipping requests as well as reader requests are more than welcome.

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a-writer-on-elm-street · 2 years

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Desperate For Me

Pairing: Negan x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Negan have been on the road for a while and then you finally decide to find a house to stay in for a bit.

Warnings: Strong language, unprotected sex, oral sex (m receiving), fingering, mild choking.

A/N: This is an AU where Negan never became the leader of the Sanctuary and instead met you along his travels and you've been together ever since. Also, I'm very inexperienced with writing smut so I hope this is okay! :)

"So tell me, when the hell did you find a bar?"

"Oh shut up, it was only a suggestion." You laughed, lightly punching Negan in the arm as you walked.

"Yeah, a suggestion that we should move into a fucking house together."

"Well, don't you think it'd be nice to just relax for once. Ya know, instead of spending every day finding a safe place to sleep for the night." You argued.

You and Negan had been walking for a while now, and you'd begun to think about your future, your future with him. The two of you weren't exactly 'together', but despite that, you were intimate with each other. And to you, that meant something. It meant that there was a connection, a bond.

But you would never be able to explore that further as long as you remained out here where nowhere was safe. So, you suggested that you and him find a house.

But with Negan being Negan, he pretty much mocked your whole idea. He didn't like living all suburban. He liked the danger. He thrived off it. And so did you, but you had limits. You could only handle so much shit. And you thought it was probably time to settle down. But Negan wasn't having any of it.

After a long moment of silence, Negan huffed and began walking off in another direction.

"Wait, where the fuck are you going?!" You called out, quickly following after him. You followed him up the street and up the front steps of an abandoned house.

"Well, you wanted a fucking house right? So I'm getting you a fucking house." He finally said as he kicked the already battered door open.

"Oh." You were shocked. You didn't think he'd actually agree to your request, yet here you were, watching him break into a house for you. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why the sudden change of heart?"

He just smirked as he sauntered towards you. "Well, I just figured it'd be nice if we were able to fuck on an actual bed every now and again. Ya know, instead of doin' it in the damn dirt all the time."

"Oh."

"What?" He questioned, his fingers already trailing along the hem of your shirt.

You just shook your head as Negan continued to fiddle with the bottom of your shirt. "Nothing, I'm just...surprised."

"Good surprised or bad?."

"Good." You breathed out, before Negan pressed his lips against yours. But as he kissed you, you couldn't help your thoughts straying from the moment. "We have to check for walkers."

"You are really killin' the mood here (y/n)." Negan groaned, pulling away from you. "Believe it or not, I was tryin' to be spontaneous."

You took a quick glance around the hall, deeming it safe from walkers, before turning back to Negan. You smiled up at him, slipping your hands underneath his t-shirt. "I've never done it on the floor of an abandoned house before."

"What about against the wall of an abandoned house?" Negan smirked. "Cuz that shit is hot."

"We could do both?"

"Goddamn." He groaned before pressing his fingers in over your hips, guiding you towards the wall.

Negan quickly closed the space between you and your breath caught in your throat when you felt his erection press between your thighs. You could feel how hard he was through his jeans, and you took no time in unfastening his belt.

"You're fuckin' desperate for me." Negan chuckled, looking down between you as you started to tug his jeans down.

"So?" You breathed out, sinking to your knees so you could slip his boxers down his legs.

"We shoulda really done this sooner."

"Shut up Negan." You ordered before grasping his cock in your hand, eliciting a quiet groan from him.

"Yes ma'am." He hummed as you swirled your tongue around his tip.

When your lips wrapped around his swollen head, he reached his hand down to your head to push you further down his length. You gagged when you felt his cock hit the back of your throat and you heard Negan let out a ragged breath at the motion.

You started bobbing your head up and down on his cock, which made him moan, and in return made your pussy throb. And as you sucked him off, you reached your hand down into your jeans, slipping your fingers inside your panties, and you started rubbing circles on your clit to relieve some of the pressure there.

"Shit, are you touching yourself?" Negan breathed out, grinning down at you. "That's fuckin' hot."

You continued to rub yourself as you forced his cock further down your throat, picking up the pace as you bobbed your head up and down his length.

"Fuck." He groaned out, his grip on the back of your head tightening which only spurred you on.

Your eyes were watering as you continued your movements around his cock, and when he finally released his load into your mouth, you made sure to swallow it, wiping your mouth as you pulled away and looked up at him.

He didn't even say anything as he dragged you to your feet, smashing his lips against yours, tasting himself on you. His lips never left yours as he pushed you against the wall, tugging your jeans and underwear down your legs, before swiping a finger along your folds.

You moaned into his mouth and when you felt him push a finger inside you, you could barely keep still.

"Jesus, you're already so wet for me." Negan said triumphantly as he pulled his head back to look at you.

You screwed your eyes shut as he pumped his finger inside you, taking no time in adding a second finger. You slammed your head back against the wall as he continued to move his fingers inside you, sending a wave of pleasure through your body.

Negan then began leaving a trail of kisses down your neck, biting the flesh every now and again to leave marks.

You started to buck your hips into his hand when he picked up the pace, desperately seeking more friction.

"Fucking...shit Negan." You panted as he carried on his movements, a smug smile on his face as he watched you come undone before him. "I'm...I'm gonna-"

You couldn't even finish your sentence as you suddenly felt a wave of pleasure ripping through you.

Before you could even catch your breath, Negan was already roughly gripping your hips, lining his hardened cock up with your entrance.

You let out a gasp when you felt his tip rubbing against you, and you felt like you were going to collaspe when he finally pushed himself all the way inside you. He stilled for a moment so you could adjust to his size and then with a quick nod from you, he began to move.

You cried out when he pulled almost all the way out of you before sliding back in, filling you completely. You moaned and Negan quickly covered your mouth with his again, his tongue sliding over yours as he fucked you against the wall.

You almost lost it when Negan moaned into your mouth as you clenched around him. And then he brought his hand up to your throat, wrapping his fingers around it and squeezing slightly as he picked up his pace, making it harder to breathe.

Eventually, you weren't even kissing anymore. Your foreheads were just pressed together and with each forceful thrust, your lips only managed to brush against each other.

Your head started to hit the wall as Negan continued to thrust into you at a brutal pace and just as you felt your release coming close, he pulled out of you, his grip on your throat loosening.

But you didn't even have time to react as he was quickly grabbing you and laying you down on the cold wood floor. You almost screamed when you felt him slamming himself back inside you, his pace once again quickening as he thrusted inside you.

"Jesus fucking christ!" Negan groaned, his hands coming up to hold the back of your head, keeping you in place as he fucked you relentlessly. "Are you close?"

You nodded, barely able to keep your eyes open as you tried to look up at him. When he started to hit the sweet spot inside you, you felt a pressure building in your stomach and as he continued to hit that spot, you finally clenched around his cock, cumming around him.

This clearly sent Negan over the edge as you felt his dick twitch inside you before filling you with his load. He continued to push into you a few more times before finally pulling out, collapsing beside you.

"We should do this more often." Negan panted, grinning at you.

"Yeah, we should."

[Main Masterlist] [Negan Masterlist]

TAGS: @neganswoman

#negan smut #negan x reader smut #negan x reader oneshot #negan x reader imagine #negan fanfic #negan oneshot #negan oneshots #negan #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead oneshot #the walking dead oneshots #twd smut #twd #twd fanfic #twd oneshots #twd oneshot #jeffrey dean morgan

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sadslay · 7 months

Text

- BASOREXIA ⋆☆ 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

(n.) the overwhelming desire, or sudden urge, to kiss someone.

warnings — set during s1 ep6, very short (sorry), light nsfw content

daryl hadn’t known you for long, no more then a few weeks at most but in the short time he had known you, he felt as though he’d known you for years. thanks to not only his brother’s judgements but also his own, he believed you to be some entitled snob that would never looked twice in his direction. his jaw had just about hit the ground when he had discovered you had both grown up in the same neighbourhood, even went to the same community school before him and merle had moved away.

he could never describe the way he felt around you. daryl had always understood he was never smart, not in the ways that mattered or not in the ways that would impress you but he was sure - so goddamn sure - that were was a word or two to describe the way he’d felt about you in the short time he had come to know you. the word daryl was searching for - but would never find - was basorexia.

sitting on a countertop behind a rounded table, watching the others cheer and pour drinks brought a sense of familiarity to you. it reminded you of a simpler time. you focused on lori and rick as they playfully bickered on weather or not their son should try some of the red wine dale was serving, but daryl - who sat beside you, nursing a bottle of beer- was entirely focused on you. the way you looked under the white led lighting of the cdc bunker and the way you giggled as carl pushed away the small cup of wine he had just tried. everything you did was perfect in his eyes, absolutely everything.

“you gonna share that bottle dixon?” you queried, gently nudging into his shoulder as you flashed him cheeky grin.

daryl let out a breathy chuckle, not saying a word before handing you the brown bottle, watching you intently as you brought the bottle up to your lips.

“you should stick to soda pop kid.” shane mumbled as daryl stood up to walk around the table, in hopes to secure another bottle as the current one had almost run out.

“not you glenn.” daryl smiled - that was one of the first times you had seen him genuinely smile - leaning in to grab another bottle before teasing, “keep drinkin’ little man, i wanna see how red your face can get.”

“it seems to me we haven't thanked our host properly.” rick spoke, standing up to look at the man who had reluctantly let us in an hour or so prior.

“he is more than just our host.” t-dog smiled, raising his glass of red wine.

“booyah!” daryl cheered, raising a bottle of spirits into the air before sitting back down beside you, offering you a sip of the new liquor.

you placed the empty bottle of beer beside you before taking the bottle what you assumed was whiskey and cheering, “booyah!” before taking a swig.

“so when are you gonna tell us what the hell happened here, doc?” shane asked, breaking the cheers and thanks coming from around the room, and almost instantly everyone fell quiet. “all the ah the other doctors that were supposed to be figuring out what happened, where are they?” he asked, looking at the lone scientist.

“we're celebrating, shane.” rick answered quickly, sitting back down beside his son. “don't need to do this now.” he added.

“whoa, wait a second. this is why we're here, right?” shane asked rhetorically, looking at rick before continuing. “this was your move, supposed to find all the answers but instead we uh we found him.” shane explained, his very tome and expression seeming on edge and untrusting. “found one man. why?”

“well, when things got bad, a lot of people just left. went off to be with their families and when things got worse, when the military got overrun, the rest bolted.” the scientist explained, the entire mood shifting.

“every last one?” shane asked sarcastically.

“no, many couldn't face walking out the door. they... opted out. there was a rash of suicides. that was a bad time.” the scientist continued, his voice shaky as he explained the fate of the cdc.

“you didn't leave. why?” andrea asked, placing her half empty glass of wine onto the crowded table.

“i just kept working. hoping to do some good.” he explained.

“dude, you are such a buzzkill, man.” glenn groaned, looking at shane as he slumped back into his chair.

later that night, after every had begun settling in for the night you found yourself lying awake in a sleeping bag a meter or so away from glenn. your hair was still damp from the warm shower you had no more then an hour prior. you pulled yourself up from the sleeping bag, wrapping your arms around your chest before wandering out into the hallway to find all but one light left on. daryls room. the door had been left open, allowing you to lean up against the doorframe as you watched daryl pull a clean shirt over his head and shoulders before noticing the brown bottle by the head of his sleeping bag.

“still hoggin’ the bottle huh dixon?” you giggled, causing daryl to spin around as the rest of his shirt fell down his torso.

he weakly scoffed as his eyes traced up and down your body, most of your legs exposed from the shorts you had found in some drawers while a baggy shirt hid most of your figure.

“d’yer reckon we could find the rest of ‘is stash?” you asked eagerly, looking up at daryl as a breathy chuckle fell from his lips.

“nah, yer cut off woman.” he chortled, as you walked further into his room “yer already drunk as i am.” daryl added.

your eyebrows almost immediately pinched together as you dramatically scoffed, “that shower sobered me up real good.” you teased, bending down to grab the bottle before taking a sip of the room temperature liquor. “‘n what would be so wrong with that?” you asked, folding your arms across your chest.

“nothin’!” he defended, his hands weakly rising into the air before dropping back by his side. “s’just you look like you can’t handle your booze is all.” daryl teased.

you dropped down onto the near by couch as you slurred, “i can handle my liquor jus’ fine.”

closely you watched daryl as he plopped down beside you, taking the brown bottle from your hand before taking another swig.

“women can never handle their liquor.” he mumbled, a weak laugh escaping his lips, making you frown.

“dixon.” you mumbled, looking across to his eyes as they remained focused on the bottle in front of him. “that sounds like a challenge.” you smirked causing the man to look up with a devilish grin plastered on his lips.

he extended his arm, offering the bottle to you. you took the bottle from daryl causing a soft giggle to leave your lips as you brought the rim of the bottle up to your mouth. taking another swig of the brown liquor - burning your throat - you rested the bottle in your lap.

“yer gonna be wasted.” he noted, trying to hide the grin sneaking onto his lips.

“you’ve never even seen me drink,” i scoffed, “for all you know i could’ve been a drunk before all of this rubbish.” i added, handing the bottle back to daryl as he shuffled a little closer.

“‘cept i do, yer told me ‘bout an hour ago that you barely had your first drink before the world went to shi-.” daryl teased, his words cut off as your hand covered his mouth, quietly shushing him.

“i told you that in confidence, and i said first legal drink.” you pouted as daryl’s hand lifted up to connect with yours that was still covering the majority of his mouth.

you could feel daryls breath on the palm of your hand as he let out a small chuckle but as his hands slowly began to peel yours away from his mouth, his lips began to purse, leaving a soft kiss on your skin. you watched him as his lips continued further down your wrist, his hand loosening before finally letting go to reattach at the base of your neck, pulling you closer to him as you lips met. quicker then you could have ever imagined the kiss grew heated and passionate as you found yourselves pulling each other closer. in an act of desperation you pulled yourself onto his lap, resting your knees on either sides of his hips as you sat down on his lap, but it still didn’t feel close enough.

when you had suddenly pulled your lips away from daryls, leaving him confused and afraid that he had overstepped, but as your hands cradled his cheeks and a smile began to creep onto your lips he was left in a state of confusion.

“been waitin’ for yer to do this for a while.” you grinned, your eyes wandering around daryls face, admiring every little detail thanks to the close proximity.

“thought you were only doin’ this cause you’d been drinkin’.” he answered glumly, his hands still loosely hovering over your hips.

you shrugged weakly, a smirk creeping onto your lips as you whispered, “needed some liquid courage.” before your lips connected to his prickled jawline.

“scared of me huh?” he asked, his grip tightening around your waist as your delicate kisses began to tickle his skin.

“m’not scared of you.” you mumbled into the crook of his neck, slowly beginning to work your way back to his lips.

but just as you went to reconnect your lips, daryl slightly pulled away, his eyebrows pinched together as he whispered, “ya think i’d say no to yer?”

you stayed silent, shyly nodding. heavy breaths filled the room as a weak muffled scoff left daryls lips. you let out a little chuckle at your own foolish mind for getting in the way of an action you had been wanting to pursue for some time now.

“didn’t think i was your type.” you commented, combing a piece of hair out of your face before your hand reattached to the base of daryl’s neck.

“didn’t think i was ya type either.” he breathlessly chuckled, his hands remaining firmly gripped onto your waist.

a soft giggle left your lips as your lips momentarily connected with daryls before pulling away to whisper, “your one hundred percent my type.” you smiled, your very words making daryl scoff in disbelief before your lips reconnected with his.

daryl was in heaven on earth. he had never imagined this happening and now with you on his lap, your mouth slowly beginning to part from his lips as you trailed down his chin and jaw, your entire body now beginning to slide down. his chest rose and fell heavily as you rested on your knees, your hands now beginning to fiddle with his belt buckle.

“ya- yer don’ have ta-“ a groan slipped from daryls lips as you began to peel away his jeans, the very action sending him into a euphoric state and with you on your knees before him, something much more lustful and libidinous began to grow.

the following morning daryl woke up to you wrapped around his body, the sleeping bag - intended for one person use - was sprawled out over your two bodies, providing some warmth. your arms were wrapped around his torso, and your legs were intertwined with his. daryl looked down at you, admiring your soft delicate feature as you peacefully slept for the first time in months.

daryl thought you were so deep in sleep that nothing could possibly wake you, so when a strand of your hair fell across your face, tickling your nose and lips, daryls hand rose from his side. as he began to brush away your hair, your eyes began to flutter open, causing daryl to freeze as he trucked the strand of hair behind your ear.

“morning.” you grumbled, your arms pulling away from the warmth of daryls body to stretch.

“mornin’.” he hummed, following your actions of sitting up right, the pair of you sitting shoulder to shoulder. “yer hungover?” daryl teased, beginning to rub his face before combing his hair out of his face.

“shut up.”

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