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[virginsexgod69]

6| Squirrels & Wood

pairing Daryl Dixon x F!Reader

summary You and Daryl go out looking for some wood to use to board up the broken window, but before that, he brings back something to eat

cw typical twd violence, this chapter's pretty chill

1.5k words

Series Masterlist

 Now that he had his crossbow back and the skies were finally clear, Daryl could finally go out and hunt. Some fresh meat would be a nice change from the usual expired canned goods. He felt at peace, finally being outside following the small tracks of squirrels in the cool, sunless morning breeze. He wasn't sure what you liked to eat, but he hoped you'd be happy with what he'd bring back, if he even had a successful trip. 

 The sun was almost fully up by the time he started heading back to the cabin with the few squirrels he carried in his hands. He sat down on the porch and pulled out his knife before he began skinning the dead woodland creatures. He fell into a peaceful rhythm, cleaning out the animals while taking in the scenery around him. His mind couldn't help but wander to his friends. He was used to hunting for them, that is, after all how he felt he solidified his place in the group. Normally, this wouldn't be enough for all of them, but he hoped it'd be more then enough for you and him. He wanted to leave you with enough food, so that when he left you'd have more to eat than just whatever canned stuff you found. He didn't doubt that you could take care of yourself, but he felt that he owed it to you, at least a little, since you took care of him. 

You sat at the kitchen island as you nibbled on some canned peaches, not the most nutritional breakfast, but you were making do with what you had. The peaches only made your stomach, that was already in knots, churn uncomfortably. When you had woken up and came to the living room, you saw Daryl wasn't there in his usual spot. His weapons were also gone, which could only mean that he left. Paranoia got to you, convincing you that your actions from yesterday scared him off, despite him actually not knowing what you did. It made you sick. Not only was your baby's room in your cabin still busted, but now Daryl was gone. You'd be fine on your own and you knew it, but it kind of stung that he didn't even say goodbye. 

 You nearly jumped out of your skin when the door swung open and Daryl walked through. 

“I-I thought you left?” You admitted, confused. Your relief from seeing him overshadowed the guilt you felt from masturbating to him. 

“Jus’ went huntin’,” he said, holding up the skinned and gutted animals like trophies. You frowned at the sight of their blood dripping onto your wooden floors, but you didn’t say anything, you were just glad he was back. You looked away from him and back down at your peaches. Sure, they were sickeningly sweet, slimy, and probably expired, but squirrel didn’t seem too appetizing either. 

“You gonna eat those?” You asked after choking down another peach slice. 

“Nah, jus’ thought you’d like to use ‘em for decoration.” You rolled your eyes at him, but fished out a pan for him from the cabinet. 

“I prefer art over dead squirrels, thanks. You can use this to cook ‘em.”

“Don’ need none of that, I’ma cook ‘em outside. Jus’ came to see if you want any,” he explained. Canned peaches wasn’t gonna hold you over for long, so you accepted his offer, even though you were a bit skeptical. You followed him outside and saw the small fire he made. He sat down by it before spearing the squirrels with sticks and handing you one. You hesitantly accepted, careful to avoid his touch, and sat across from him, holding the meat over the fire like he did. You did everything in your power to not look at him and focus on your cooking, and it was working. That was until he spoke. 

“We gotta go out ’n find some wood we can use to board up that hole.” 

“I know a strip mall a couple miles east. The windows are all boarded up, so maybe we can take those,” you suggested. Daryl grunted in response and rotated his squirrel, so you did too. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Daryl told you they were ready. You waited a few moments for it to cool down before ripping off a piece and taking a small bite. It wasn’t anything delicious or disgusting, but it was food, so you ate it. You peeked at Daryl to see if he was done and immediately regretted when you were met with the sight of him licking his fingers. Heat blazed across your entire face as the scene before you brought you to last night in the shower. Suddenly, being in his presence felt like too much and you quickly stood to your feet.

“Ready to go? I’m ready to go! I’m gonna pop in and grab my stuff real quick, okay bye!” You hurried into the cabin as he watched in confusion. 

Armed with that big ass sledgehammer of yours, a bag, and a gun, you were ready to go. Daryl, with his crossbow and knife, followed beside you. 

“How’s your leg healing?” You ask him. It had been so long since you’ve checked on his injury, that you almost forgot about it. 

“S’fine,” you said at the same time as him. He side eyed you as you laughed to yourself. 

“Yeah, I figured you’d say that,” you jested. 

 The walk was peaceful, for the most part. You took care of the walkers that straggled by before Daryl could even aim his crossbow. The hot sun was beating down on the two of you as you walked together, making the journey uncomfortable. After a few hours, the two of you were in front of the stores, most of which had boarded up windows and doors. There were a few abandoned cars in the parking lot, along with tipped over shopping carts, dead bodies, and a bunch of walkers that were slowly starting to notice you two. 

“We should clear the area before we try taking some of the wood off,” you suggested, although it sounded more like an order. He nodded in agreement before shooting a bolt into the head of the walker coming up behind you. The two of you split up and got to work on clearing the parking lot. After firing a few more bolts, Daryl switched to his knife instead. Repeatedly stabbing and pulling his knife out of their skulls grew tiring and seemed like it would never end. He felt the cold, clammy hands of a walker behind him grabbing at him, trying to take a bite out of his flesh. He tugged and tugged at the knife that was currently lodged in a walker’s skull, but it wouldn’t give. He turned around and shoved it away, but more kept coming, surrounding him. He finally got his knife out, but by the time he did, you were by his side, cracking their skulls like eggshells. Thanks to the dual effort of you two, the parking lot was now littered in bodies, none of which could pose a threat anymore. 

 You followed Daryl up to one of the stores with boarded up doors. “How do we take it off?” You asked. Without a response, Daryl started pulling at the wood. He could feel you staring at him, well, his arms in particular, which made him self-conscious. The wood wouldn’t budge, though, since there were nails keeping it up and unfortunately, neither you nor him had anything to remove them with. 

“Let’s check out some o’ these stores, maybe they got a hammer in there,” Daryl suggested. 

“You check out the boutique, and I’ll check out the pharmacy.” Daryl grunted in agreement before you split off. 

You didn’t just want to check the pharmacy for a hammer though, you thought it’d be good to stock up on antibiotics and other medications. When you got inside, however, most of it seemed to be cleared. There was empty shelf after empty shelf as you walked through the small building. The few things that were left were some over the counter allergy pills and children’s cough syrup. Your mood dampened, upon seeing the bottle. It was the same kind you used to get for your son when he was sick. You shoved it aside and pocketed the allergy medication just in case. You wandered over to the counter and climbed over it before looking through every cabinet until you found something you thought’d be useful. You loaded your bag with the bottles of antibiotics you had found, your spirit feeling lifted at the small victory. Your real reason for searching the pharmacy had slipped your mind as you continued looking around the store. You grabbed the few rolls of bandages you were able to find, but you froze when you felt the familiar cold metal of. A gun pressing against the back of your head. 

“Drop your weapons and hand over the bag.” 

thanks for reading =]

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[virginsexgod69]

in rick grimes i trust 🙏🏾

You can love a character and still admit when they’re wrong. I love Rick but i can acknowledge his flaws (he has none) & can hold him accountable for his wrongdoings (he’s never done anything wrong in his life) & call him out for his actions (which are always correct).

[virginsexgod69]

5| Rebuilding

pairing Daryl Dixon x F! Reader

summary You and Daryl get started on removing the tree that fell through the window, but your mind wanders elsewhere.

cw descriptions of killing walkers, sexy thoughts, female masturbation

note heehee things are spicing up a bit

1.6k words

Series Masterlist

“Daryl, you don’t have to stay jus’ for me. I’ll be fine on my own like I was before.” You really did want him to stay, but you knew he had people to look for. You’d hate to be the reason he never finds them again, so you convinced yourself that you were ready to let him go. 

“You want help fixing’ yer cabin?” He asked. You looked at him, confused. Normally, you’d just call a window repairman to come fix it, but nothing was normal about the times you were living in. You didn’t think it was salvageable, and even if it was, you didn’t have the first clue on how to fix it. 

“Uh- I..yes?” 

“Then I’ma stay an’ help you.” His tone had a sense of finality to it, closing any doors to an argument, so you kept your mouth shut and nodded your head in agreement. You wanted to let him know that he didn’t owe you anything and that was free to go, but then again, it’d be idiotic to turn down such an offer. 

You and Daryl stood at the side of your cabin where the tree fell, watching as the undead mindlessly stumbled around in that area, some even tripping over the fallen tree. He nodded his head in their direction as if to say it was time to kill them, so you nodded your head in agreement. Hearing crack after crack of their skulls shattering beneath your sledgehammer was gratifying. You weren’t even phased by the blood that splattered on you. It was almost therapeutic, the way you channeled all your anger into each swing of the tool. The anger from your husband leaving you alone with a child and a baby during a fucking apocalypse so he could live out his fantasies with your best friend. The anger from a tree crashing into your house, destroying some of the little memories you had left of your babies. The feeling of Daryl’s warm hand on your shoulder snapped you out of your rage filled haze. You looked around to see all of the bodies dead on the ground. Your eyes focused in on the sight in front of you, the corpse before you’s head was obliterated into an unrecognizable pulp. Pieces of bloody brain fragments decorated the lush, green grass and partially your clothing, too. You glanced away from it and looked into Daryl’s concerned baby blues instead. 

“I’m great!” you promised, stepping away from him and the carcass at your feet. You really were feeling a lot better. Maybe it was because you were finally out in the sunshine after days of stormy weather or because Daryl stayed to help you, or because killing all those undead helped you release a lot of steam. 

“How should we get started!?” You asked with cheerily with a wide smile splitting your face in half. You were sure you looked something out of a horror movie, covered in blood and brains, smiling almost psychotically. Slightly perturbed, Daryl glanced away before looking back at you. 

“Got any axes or anythin’? We gotta get this tree outta here,” he explained. 

 You left and came back with two axes after searching your house for a moment or two. The tingle you felt in your spine from brushing fingers with Daryl as you handed him an axe lifted your spirits even more. You followed his lead as he hacked at pieces of the tree. Piece by piece, there was less and less tree protruding through the window. 

 The hot, Georgia sun beaming on your skin was increasingly uncomfortable. You were sweating bullets and desperately needed a break, but as long as Daryl was working you would, too. You glanced over at Daryl to gage how he was doing only to have your breath taken from you. The sunlight glistened off his tanned, sweaty arms, only accentuating the way his muscular biceps flexed with every swing of the axe. His chocolate brown hair dripped with sweat, making him look downright delicious. You needed to focus on the task at hand! You ripped your eyes away from him and got back to chopping wood, this time, more ferociously as you tried to force those thoughts of Daryl out of your head. He must’ve gotten to a particularly difficult piece, because you heard him grunt each time he forced the axe out from being lodged into the wood. The sound made your mind wonder, imagining if those were the noises he made in bed. The pulsating throb you felt in your core forced you to drop the axe and step away. 

“I’ma get us some waters,” you rushed out before hurrying off into the cabin. You gulped down your bottle of water as if it would cleanse your mind of those previous thoughts. Seeing Daryl like that made you realize it had been a small eternity since you’ve had sex, even before the world turned upside down. It felt weird to have this side of you awakened again, but a good weird. But nothing good lasts, especially not these days, so you buried those thoughts and desires deep down within. You polished off the water and grabbed a bottle for Daryl before heading back out. 

  When you came back outside, Daryl was tossing the some of the last parts of the tree out of your window. He wiped the sweat from his forehead before gratefully accepting the water from you. He uncapped the plastic bottle before bringing it to his lips and chugging it. You watched as streams of water escaped the corners of his mouth and leaked down his chin and dripped onto his chest, sliding down until it met the fabric of his sleeveless shirt. The thoughts came flooding back tenfold and you and to had turn away. 

"Sun's settin'. We can finish tomorrow," he said as he stretched his sore arms. 

"I thought we did finish?" you questioned. Your whole body was a sore, sweaty, bloody mess. The thought of more work made your back hurt. You stretched your sore limbs as you stared at the orangey sky, enjoying the cool evening breeze against your damp skin. 

"Gotta board it up, unless you want walkers gettin' in," he said as if it were obvious, which it kind of was, but your brain was tired. 

"You call them things walkers?" you asked, laughter hidden in your voice. 

"Yeah? Wha's wrong with tha?" he asked suspiciously. 

"Nothin', but I mean they do a whole hell of a lot more than walk..." 

"Well wha' do you call 'em, then?" 

You shrugged your shoulders. "Never thought to name 'em, just call them 'the undead'." You glanced back up at the sky, admiring the beauty that had been hidden behind thick storm clouds for the past week. You glanced over at Daryl and saw him quickly turn away from you and look at the sunset too. 

"I'm gonna go in and take a shower. You're free to use it when I'm done, if you'd like." And with that, you were off to the cabin. 

Once you locked the bathroom door behind you, you quickly shed off your disgusting, bloody, sweaty clothes and hopped in the shower, turning on the cold water. Without electricity, cold water was the only option, but you were grateful to have running water at all. You stared at the floor, watching as the dried blood was rinsed off your body, staining the water pink until it finally faded to clear again. The thoughts of Daryl from earlier resurfaced, making you want to bang your head against the wall. You felt guilty for thinking of him in such a way. Here he was, a guest in your home who was kind enough to stick around to help fix the damage to your cabin. And here you were, thirsting over him like a cat in heat. You splashed the cold water over your face, but it did nothing to cool your thoughts. You were sure you were only feeling like this because it had been almost two years since you've gotten any. Maybe, you thought, if you just touched yourself the thoughts would calm down. 

 Your hand slipped down between your thighs and you slid a finger between your folds, feeling how wet you were. You were almost embarrassed at how soaked you were, but there was no going back now. Your fingers began rubbing slow circles on your neglected clit. Pleasure shot throughout your body, urging you to keep going. You increased your pace, simultaneously increasing your pleasure as you continued those circular motions. You bit back a moan at the same time you swallowed your guilt. The coil in your tummy was building up, waiting to explode. Images of Daryl painted your eyelids causing your cunt to clench over nothing. You slipped a finger into your slick hole, wishing it was Daryl's instead. You slipped another one in once the sting from the first subsided, but it still didn't feel like enough. You grew frustrated at how your own fingers couldn't quite reach that spot, so instead you focused on your clit, applying more pressure and chasing that orgasm that was so close to coming. You thought of the way Daryl's tanned arms flexed as he was chopping the wood earlier and that coil burst, making you see stars as you came. But once you came down from that high and realized what you just did, shame washed over you like a bucket of ice water, colder than the shower's spray that was currently splashing you.

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sorry, it took me a minute to finish this, but i did it, yaaay! Thank you for reading =]

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Taglist @eternalrose81 @the-dixon-effect @millybaby @daryldixmedown @theoraekenslover @aeriean @lesbian-horror-fan @paintlavillered @zhannamustdie @thegeorgiahuntsman @bigbaldheadname @Lumi362 @lettersfromyourlover-blog

[virginsexgod69]

4| Mourning

pairing Daryl Dixon x F! Reader

summary Sunny skies reemerge and Daryl is tasked with the decision to stay or go.

cw mention of child loss, crying, sadness

1.1k words

Series Masterlist

Daryl was almost disappointed to see that behind the first locked door was a child’s bedroom. Inside was a twin bed with a blue comforter, the same shade of blue that the rug with little dinosaurs on it was. The dresser by the window had a few trophies on it as well as a few toys. As he scanned the room, he looked for possible places you could’ve hidden his stuff. It was unlikely that it would fit in the small bedside bookshelf but it could possibly be in the toy box that sat alongside the wall. You hurried out the room with a morose look upon your face and pushed past him before unlocking the second door. Your focus wasn’t on him, so now would have been the perfect time for him to search the bedroom in hope of finding his weapons, but, when he heard a gut wrenching sob come from the other room, he abandoned his plans. 

 When he peeked his head in the doorway of the other room, the first thing he saw was a tree sticking through the broken window. He could feel the coldness of the wind and rain blowing into the house. When he looked down, he saw you, on your knees sobbing in front of a crib that was broken by the fallen tree. You didn’t seem to care that you were kneeling in shattered glass as you held pieces of  the crib’s broken wood in your hands. He looked away, feeling like he walked in on something he wasn’t meant to see, something far too vulnerable for a stranger’s eyes. This room looked like a nursery, baby stuff was everywhere. He glanced back up at the broken window and saw walkers slowly walking up the hill, approaching your house. The noise from the tree falling must’ve attracted them. 

“C’mon, we can’t stay in here. Walkers are comin’,” he warned. You either couldn’t hear him over the loud winds and your sobbing, or you were ignoring way. Either way, he was growing impatient and wasn’t about to leave you to the walkers. He walked over to you and grabbed your upper arm. “Did ya hear me? We gotta get outta here!” he said a little louder. You roughly snatched your arm from his grasp and sobbed even louder. 

“My baby! I’m n-not leaving my baby!” you wailed before wrapping your arms around yourself and crumpling even further into the floor. Daryl looked around the room but there wasn’t a baby in sight. Even in the broken crib, there was no sign of a baby. “Ain’ no baby in here, let’s go!” You stumbled behind him as he dragged you out of the room. He locked it from the inside before slamming it shut. You slid down the wall, still crying out for your baby. Daryl didn’t know what to do. He was reminded of that day Sophia walked out of the barn as a walker and the devastation he felt, although, that didn’t seem comparable to what you were going through, now. You hugged your knees to your chest, still sobbing as Daryl stood there uncomfortably. He didn’t know what else to do, so he grabbed you a water bottle from the stash you found yesterday and sat beside you in silence. 

 Gentle beams on sunshine shone on your face, waking you from a sleep you weren’t ware you’d fallen in. You smiled to yourself, happy to see the sunshine for the first time in a while, but that happiness was quickly overshadowed by the memories of last night. Tears pricked your eyes at the memory of your daughter’s broken crib. When you lost your children, you left their rooms untouched, perfect shrines of what once was. Sometimes, it felt like they were still here, just sleeping peacefully in their rooms. Going in those rooms for the first time in a long time was a cruel reminder that they weren’t. Seeing that tree destroy your baby girl’s nursery almost felt like losing her all over again. You were feeling unmotivated and just wanted to stay in your bed -which you didn’t remember getting into- and just succumb to a dreamless sleep, but then you remembered your house guest. 

 You forced yourself out of bed, not bothering to change into fresh clothes or freshen up and plodded your way into the kitchen. Daryl was sitting where he usually sat, by the fireplace leaning against the hearth. When he caught your eye, you quickly turned away, embarrassed of your breakdown the night before. He didn’t need to see that side of you, or any sides of you for that matter- he was just a guest. You pulled his crossbow and knives out from the cabinet under the kitchen sink -a place you thought he’d never look, especially since they were hidden behind your pots and pans. 

“Here’s your stuff,” you said, placing the weapons on the kitchen island. You cringed at how raspy your voice was from all your crying. 

“Y’alright?” He asked, concern lacing his voice. 

“Mhm, how’s your leg? I can check it out, see how it’s healing before you go,” you said, redirecting the subject.

“Nah, s’okay.” He stood up and approached the kitchen island. You prayed he wouldn’t notice how puffy your eyes were or how much of a mess you looked. You moved away from him and grabbed a bunch of cans off from the counter and shoved it in his direction. 

“Take as much food as you need. I’m sure your people’ll need it when you find ‘em.” Your eyes watered at the mention of his people. You were just getting used to having company, someone to take care of, but he’d be off soon, leaving you lonelier and sadder than before. “Need anythin’ else?” You asked, a fake smile plastered on your face to fight back the tears, but you were sure it looked more like a pained grimace. Daryl just wordlessly stared at you and as he did it became harder to keep up the facade. Your chin and lips trembled as fresh, hot tears cascaded down your face. A sob forced its way out of your throat, followed by another. You clamped your hand over your mouth and turned away from Daryl, unable to hold back your emotions. 

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t…I don’t even know why I’m crying. I-” You inhaled a shaky breath, trying to calm yourself. “Just go!” You begged weakly. You just wanted him out of here so you can start  reacclimatizing to the loneliness. The cabin was silent for a moment, until you heard the sound of Daryl putting his crossbow back onto the counter. 

“I ain’ gonna leave, not while yer like this.”

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oh wow, i didn't think i'd have this out so soon, go me i guess? anyway, thanks for reading!!!!!! =]

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Taglist @eternalrose81 @the-dixon-effect @millybaby @daryldixmedown @theoraekenslover @aeriean @lesbian-horror-fan @paintlavillered

[virginsexgod69]

Seclusion Rewrite

hello!

i just wanted to let anyone who's read seclusion know that i deleted all the chapters and rewrote it bc i didn't like it anymore!! =p i didn't like how i wrote y/n or where the story was going (nowhere lol) so i couldn't bring myself to update it. i am much more fond of my rewrite, and perchance you will be, too! since i'm liking it, updates will actually happen, quite frequently at that

okay, that's all.

HERE IS THE LINK IF YOU WANT TO READ IT

p.s. i ate a whole, unsliced apple today for the first time since getting my braces off and it was AMAZING!!! i will be chomping on more apples in the near future.

[virginsexgod69]

3| Stormy Weather

pairing Daryl Dixon x F! Reader

summary You and Daryl get to know each other while cooped up in the bathroom, hiding from the tornado

cw none! This chapter is chill, but kinda heavy in dialogue

1.1k words

Series Masterlist

You and Daryl were both crammed in the empty bathtub, toe to toe with each of your knees to your chests. You didn’t know why you were in the bathtub, but it’s what you remember doing during tornadoes as a child. It was definitely awkward. The two of you sat in silence, avoiding eye contact. 

“So,” you said, opening the door to awkward conversation, his blue eyes snapped up at you. “Did you have a camp before I found you?” 

“Yeah. Lived in the prison with my group. You been here the whole time?” He asked. You sighed and nodded your head, not liking the direction the conversation you started was headed in. “Somewhat. A little after the outbreak, a couple of us took shelter here in my hus- ex husband’s cabin.” You cringed at your almost slip up. 

“Anyway! How’d you get split from your group?” He told you about a man who called himself the Governor and the atrocities he committed on his group. You cringed at the story of what he went through. Because your cabin was in the middle of nowhere, you never really had run ins with any other people, save for the few times you’ve ran into people during runs. You hadn’t realized, or seen first hand how depraved people have become. You were grateful that it was Daryl who stumbled upon your cabin instead of someone like the man from his story. 

“You by yerself now, too?” He asked. 

“Nope. I shot a stranger and now he’s in an empty bathtub with me,” you joked in an attempt to lighten the somber mood. A small smile graced his handsome face at your joke. He didn’t need to know that you were all alone in your cabin because your scumbag of a husband abandoned you in the midst of the apocalypse, so you didn’t tell him. 

“When the weather clears up, are you gonna go out lookin’ for your friends? You asked. He grunted in the affirmative. You couldn’t help the twinge of jealousy you felt. He had people and he seemed pretty dedicated to them. You wondered if they even knew how lucky they were to have someone who’d look for them when they got split up, instead of having someone who couldn’t wait to ditch them, like the people you had. 

“How nice of you,” you bitterly remarked. You didn’t mean to come off so cruel, but for the first time since meeting Daryl, you noticed how lonely you really were. He didn't say anything, but just glared at you. 

"I'm goin' to sleep. Wake me up if something happens." You got as comfortable as you could with your pillow and closed your eyes, willing sleep to come quickly. 

 A loud thud and the sound of glass shattering jolted you awake. You looked around hastily in your state of disorientation before your eyes landed on Daryl and everything started coming back. 

"W-what happened?" you asked blearily. 

"Think a tree fell through a window." Panic shot through your spine. You couldn’t afford any damage to the cabin. Not only was this your home which held so many memories, both good and bad, but this place has kept you safe from the outside’s dangers for so long. A broken window would compromise that.

“I need to go check, I’ll be back,” you said as you scrambled out the tub and rushed for the door. 

“Ain’ no point in checkin’ now. Storm’s still goin’,” Daryl nonchalantly said from the empty tub. He was right and you knew it, but you couldn’t help but feel drawn to leave. Anxiety clawed at your chest causing you to pace in circles around the small bathroom. 

“Wha’s wrong?” He asked, unable to tune out your nervous behavior. He wondered if it had anything to do with those two locked rooms. 

“Nothin’, I’m just worried about my house is all,” you told the half truth. 

“It’s gon’ be fine. It didn’ seem like the tornado’s gon come through here.” Whether he said that to comfort you or not, you couldn’t tell, but it did help you relax a little. 

“Were you a meteorologist before all this or somethin’?” You teased. 

“Nah,” came his reply. Suddenly interested in the man, you sat down on the ledge of the tub to question him further. 

“What did you do before all this, anyway?” 

He removed his thumb from between his lips before he replied with an unsatisfying “Nothin.” You raised your eyebrows at him in disbelief. You didn’t know much, or anything, about him, but people who do nothing don’t usually look like Daryl. “I highly doubt that, but I’m guessin’ this is a touchy subject.” Maybe, if he ends up staying here long enough, he’d open up eventually. 

“I was a marriage counselor, which is kinda ironic since I couldn’t save my own marriage,” you said before laughing to yourself. You had a tendency to overshare when you felt an awkward silence needed to be filled and right now it was biting you in the ass. You bit your tongue to keep yourself from sharing more about yourself since Daryl seemed not to be in the mood for conversation. 

“I jus’ stuck with my brother. Did what he did. Drugs an’ stuff like that,” he replied vaguely. 

“Oh wow, I would’ve guessed you were a model or somethin’.”  

“Wha’ makes ya think that?” He asked. 

“Pfff, look in a mirror when you get the chance.” You wouldn’t even try to deny that the man was good looking. Whenever you made eye contact with him, you felt timid under his piercing blue gaze. When you turned to face him, his ears were a soft pink and the skin of his thumb between his teeth. 

You were woken up by Daryl gently shaking your shoulder. You blinked your eyes open and saw him towering over you, standing outside of the bathtub. 

“C’mon, storm’s calmed down,” he informed as he held a hand out to help you up, which you accepted. Heat tingled in your cheeks when your hand touched his warm one. Your uncertainty from earlier rapidly made a reappearance and you hurried out the bathroom with a curious Daryl not far behind. You sighed in relief when you saw that the living room was fine, relatively untouched by the horrid weather. You then hurried back down the hallway and dug around in your pants pockets until you pulled out a key. Daryl watched closely as you hurriedly unlocked the door. In truth, he wanted to get inside and see where you were hiding his stuff. Even though it was raining pretty hard again, he knew he’d find a sense of comfort knowing where they were in case he needed them beforehand.

 When Daryl first found out those doors were locked, he figured you were keeping something like an armory or pantry out of his reach, considering that he was just a stranger in your home. When you opened the door, he realized that he couldn’t be more wrong. 

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WOO! 3rd chapter, hell yea! >=] thanks for reading <3333

maybe this was kinda obvious, but i have no idea what to do during a tornado! i'm more of an earthquake girlie

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Taglist

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[virginsexgod69]

2| Locked Doors

pairing Daryl Dixon x F!Reader

summary While you're gone, Daryl snoops about your cabin in search of his weapons

cw none! this chapter's rather mundane

1.7k words

series masterlist

Daryl scanned the living room of the cabin, not because he wanted to snoop, but because he wanted to familiarize himself with where he'd be staying for the time being. The weather only worsening as time passed told him that he'd be here for a while. Your cabin was small and cozy, homey even. Family photos decorated the mantle, making him wonder if there were others here. The pictures that were framed all over the walls were either photos, art pieces, or messily drawn artwork, presumably made by a child. Seeing the pictures of the kids made him think of Carl and Rick. He hoped they were alive and he cursed himself that he was in here, cooped up and injured, instead of out there looking for them and the others, too. 

 He was analyzing one picture in particular on the mantle; it was of you, but you looked a few years younger and you were holding a baby, smiling, and a man was hugging you from behind, also smiling, in front of the Golden Gate Bridge. The sound of you clearing your throat snatched his focus away from the perfect family image. He turned to look at you but you were already glaring daggers into his skull. You briskly walked over to the mantle and placed the picture frame face down before doing the same with the rest. 

"How's your leg?" you asked, not looking him in the eye. 

"S'fine." He replied, wondering why you reacted in such a way. By the tense look on your face, he knew better than to ask. 

"Good," you tersely replied as you walked to the window. You intensely watched as the heavy rain beat against the glass, falling from the dark storm clouds. He joined you in your storm watching, but you quickly stepped away and into the kitchen. 

"Here. You need to eat so you can heal," you said, holding out an opened can of beans and a water bottle. He wanted to refuse, not wanting to keep taking from you and possibly owe you something later, but he was famished. The torrential downpour made hunting almost impossible. He accepted the food and began devouring the beans. He paid no mind to how you disappeared down the hall, until you came back, wearing an empty backpack and zipping up a raincoat. 

"Where're you goin'?" he asked after swallowing a large spoonful of beans. 

"I don't have much food left, so I'ma go out and see if I can find anything," you replied as you stepped into your rain boots. 

"S'too dangerous. You should wait til the rain calms down," his gruff voice suggested. 

"All I have left is a can of creamed corn. That won't even last us a day." He looked into the now empty can of beans and felt guilty for eating the last of your food. 

"Gimme back my weapons n' I'll go with ya," he offered. Although you appreciated the gesture, you couldn't help the laughter bubbling in your chest. "That's sweet and all, but I don't need an injured man holding me back." Holding you back? He was used to going out alone so he wouldn't be held back by others. He wanted to tell you just as such, but you were already at the door. The once warm room was suddenly freezing as the wind and rain harshly blew inside. 

"Don't go nosing about my cabin! And don't try any funny shit either!" you demanded before slamming the door shut behind you. 

 It had been about an hour and you still weren't back. He wasn't worried, though, he'd be out for days on end hunting sometimes. He wanted to look for his weapons, especially his crossbow, so when the time came he can just up and leave. You did say you'd give them back when the time came, but he didn't fully trust you. Sure, you seemed generous and hospitable, but he'd be a fool to trust someone so blindly, especially during these times. 

 He didn't see where you went when you confiscated his weapons, but he noticed you often disappear down the hallway often, so he started there. There were four doors in the hallway, two on each side. He slowly opened the first door, before creeping inside. It was just the bathroom. He checked the cabinet under the sink only to find cleaning supplied and not a weapon in sight. Nothing was in the medicine cabinet either.  He closed the door behind him before trying the one across from it. It was locked. He could have easily broken the door open, but you'd notice that he'd been snooping, defying your only request. The door next to it was also locked, so he tried the last door, the one next door to the bathroom. It opened, revealing a bedroom. He deduced it was yours since it was the only one kept unlocked. It was kind of a mess. The queen sized bed was unmade and clothes were strewn all over the wood floor. The top of the dresser was a mess of clutter and trinkets and drawers overstuffed with clothes. He doubted there was even room to hide his weapons in there. He looked underneath the bed, careful not to move in a way that would tear his stitches, and saw nothing. He angrily cursed to himself. His stuff had to be in one of the locked rooms. He needed to find a way to get in without you noticing, but for now he went back to his spot by the fireplace.

 He was bored with nothing to do but watch the ever worsening weather. The thunder and rain had stopped, but hail fell in its absence. Despite being rather early in the evening, the sky grew darker with storm clouds. He wondered if you were even still alive, considering the hail was the size of golfballs. His question was shortly answered when the wind slammed the door open, revealing you. You were soaking wet and covered with mud and blood, but it looked like your search was fruitful. Your arms were full of cans and boxes and your backpack was full as well. You dumped the contents in your arms into the kitchen island and pushed the door shut, powering through the resistance the wind put up. 

“I think a tornado’s gonna come through,” you said as you tossed the backpack on the floor. Daryl nodded his head in agreement. 

“We can wait it out in the bathroom, there’s no windows in there.” You picked up the backpack and shoved it into Daryl’s arms and told him where the bathroom is. You hurried to your room and dried off before changing into clean clothes. As you were changing, you heard the unmistakable high-pitched whistling winds that were almost always indicative of a tornado. You snatched the pillows off of your bed and brought them with you to the bathroom. You tossed Daryl a pillow and closed the door behind you. 

“It’s gonna be a long night.”

Next Chapter ►

thanks for reading! <33333

fun fact: i was in a tornado once when i was visiting my family down south. it didn't hit us, though, so i was just chillin and reading a book by candle light.

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1| A Cabin in the Woods

summary Daryl comes across your cabin during a storm and ends up staying

pairing Daryl Dixon x f!Reader

cw use of guns, gunshot wounds, probably some medical inaccuracies

1.6k words

series masterlist

 The heavy rain soaked Daryl to the bone. He was shivering and in desperate need for shelter, at least until the rain stopped. The trees in the forest provided no protection from the elements and in these conditions, building a lean-to to sleep under for the night was out of the question. He continued to trudge through the mud, his crossbow at the ready as he watched out for walkers. Giving up wasn’t an option, although he did feel hopeless. His home was destroyed, he was separated from his friends, friends who he wasn’t even sure were still alive, and then on top of all that, Beth got taken. 

 He wasn’t sure if his mind was playing tricks on him, but he saw a dim light not too far ahead. With the rain heavily pouring, it was difficult for him to see any tracks, which would have been helpful for him to determine if he was about to approach a place where people were already residing. It was a dangerous risk to take, but it could reap worthwhile results, so he followed the light until it led him to a cabin. The only plausible reason for light to be coming from the cabin was that someone was inside. Other people were far too dangerous these days, he wasn’t going to risk it. However, the opportunity to change his mind was taken from him when he felt a searing pain in his upper thigh. He knew what it was immediately, the pain feeling all too familiar, he had been shot. 

“Drop your weapon,” he assumed the shooter said. He didn’t want to disarm himself, but he wasn’t even able to spot the person who shot him. He’d be at a disadvantage if he didn’t comply with the commands. He slowly lowered his crossbow to the ground and raised his hands in surrender. Finally, he was able to get a good look at you when you approached to take his weapon, your gun still pointed at him. Through the darkness and rain, he couldn’t get a good look at you, but he could feel the coldness of your piercing glare. 

“What’re you doing ‘round here?” Your tone demanded an answer and he didn’t feel like fucking around and finding out what would happen if he didn’t give you one. 

“Was lookin’ for shelter. Didn’ know anyone was out here til jus’ now,” he replied evenly. 

“Did I shoot you?” You asked. 

“No shit,” he replied, thinking your question was stupid. 

“Well, excuse me,” you snarked. “That was meant to be a warning shot, but it’s kinda hard to see in this rain.”  He felt a little relieved that you weren’t deliberately trying to harm him, but couldn’t fully relax while staring down the barrel of your gun. You uncocked it and put it in your belt. 

“You can stay in my cabin til the rain stops, but only if you surrender all your weapons.” 

“Fine.” He didn’t want to stay in this rain for a moment longer, especially since he was now injured. He followed you into the cabin, hobbling slightly due to his injury. Once he was inside the lit cabin, he was able to get a good look at you. Your gaze was cold and guarded, but he could tell you were remorseful, at least a little bit. He touched his wounded thigh and looked at his fingers, now covered in his blood. 

“Want me to take a look at that?” You asked. He didn’t like the irony of the person who shot him possibly being the one tending to his wound, so he refused. 

“Nah. I got it.” You raised a skeptical eyebrow at him, but didn’t insist on anything. “If you say so. I’ll go get some towels and my first aid kit. Don’t try anything funny or dirty my furniture while I’m gone.” He rolled his eyes once your back was turned, annoyed as to why anyone would care about keeping furniture clean during a damn apocalypse. When you came back, you were in different, dry clothes with a towel wrapped around your head. 

“Here.” You tossed a towel at him and he immediately used it to apply pressure to his bleeding wound. He could feel you intently watching him as he pressed the towel, now saturated with his blood, to his thigh. You tossed him another and he quickly switched them out. 

“You sure you don’t want me to take a look?” He hated the pity lacing your voice. You had some audacity to pity him as if you weren’t the one who put him in this situation in the first place. 

“You a damn doctor or somethin’?” He snapped, growing frustrated with your hovering. 

“Never mind, you got it.” You placed the first aid kit beside were he was sitting on the floor and sat down on your couch before opening a book and reading. He was grateful to finally be left alone and continued his attempt to stop the bleeding. He checked underneath the towel and saw that it stopped. Upon closer examination, he saw that it was just a graze. He opened the first aid kit and cleaned the wound with the alcohol wipe in there. It needed stitches, but because of where it was on his thigh, he’d be unable to do them himself. He glanced up at you and you were already looking at him from over your book, hiding a smug look. 

“Everything okay?” You asked. He just grunted in response, not wanting to ask for your help after he was so adamant on refusing it. Even though it would take more time, his wound would heal without stitches, so he just bandaged it as is. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you close your book and set it down. You grabbed his bloody towels, left, then came back with a few fresh ones. 

“Dry yourself off. Don’t need you catchin’ a cold.” You tossed him the towels and he caught them and began to dry himself. 

“You can sleep up here. I’ll give back your weapons when you leave.” You turned off the lights, but let the fire place burn, which Daryl appreciated since he needed to warm up. 

…

When you awoke in the morning, the rain was still harshly beating against your window. You slid out of bed and got dressed before walking into the living room. The sight of a man in dark clothing sitting on the floor of your cabin scared you. You had forgotten about what happened last night. He glanced in your direction, but didn’t say anything. He leaned against the hearth of the stone fireplace with a hand held to his injured leg. 

“How’s the leg?” You asked. You hoped he was doing better for the sake of him leaving soon, but you doubted it. The wound was pretty deep and you didn’t see him stitch it, so he’d be lucky if it didn’t start bleeding again at the slightest movement. You would’ve gladly helped him had he asked, but you felt he was being rude, so you refused to offer your services again that night. 

“Fine.” You could tell that wasn’t all true. His skin looked pale and his forehead glistened with sweat. 

“I’m no doctor, but you don’t look okay. Like at all.” You couldn’t help the smirk that tugged on the corners of your mouth as he frowned at you. 

“Lemme just take a look. I wouldn’t wanna wake up to some dead stranger wanderin’ around my house tryna eat me,” you joked in an attempt to lighten the mood. Today was a new day and the least you could do was help him out. After all, he wouldn’t even be here had you not shot him. You picked up the first aid kit from the floor where he left it yesterday and sat down beside him on his injured side. He extended his leg toward you and you gave him a small smile in return. The tear in his pants from the gunshot was large enough to where you didn’t need to remove any clothing. You took off the old bandage and examined the wound it was fairly deep. 

“This definitely needs stitches,” you informed him as you rummaged through the kit for sutures. He brought his thumb to his mouth and nibbled on the skin surrounding the nail, but nodded his head in approval anyway. You cleaned the wound and unpackaged the sutures. 

“What��s your name anyway?” You asked while threading the needle. 

“Daryl,” came his reply. In return, you told him your name. You pinched his skin together and stuck the needle through it. You weren’t sure how to sew an injured person’s flesh back together, so you just did what felt right. 

“How’d you find my cabin, Daryl?” You tied the thread, bringing together the two sides of the wound then cut it before starting the next suture. 

“Jus’ came across it yesterday.” You repeated the process and finished the second stitch before starting the third. 

“Why were you outside in a storm yesterday?” 

"This a damn interrogation or somethin'?" he hissed instead of answering the question. To tell the truth, you were interrogating him; one, because you wanted to find out more about the strange man in your home and two, to distract him from the pain of you sewing his skin. 

"I'm just making conversation," you told the half-truth. 

"Got separated from my group a while back. I was out lookin' for em and got caught up in the rain. S'that what you wanna know?"  You didn't respond and instead focused on tying the last knot. You placed a bandage over the stitched up wound and cleaned up your materials. 

"Looks like you'll be stuck with me for a little while longer," you commented as you watched the rain come down even harder than it was last night. His only reply came in the form of a displeased grunt. 

Next Chapter ►

yaay! thanks for reading =]

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Taglist

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[virginsexgod69]

Fitz declared war against West Angola, and Rick cut off his hand, so what will Carmy do for his girl?

[virginsexgod69]

realness 😞

born to be a controversially young gf to a rich dilf, forced to be broke and sexy.

[virginsexgod69]

Yeah, I'm fine

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[virginsexgod69]

❝Jealous ❞

pairing Professor! Daryl Dixon x F! Student! Reader with a sprinkle of Professor Rick

summary After getting drunk with your friends, you wake up at Professor Dixon's place where you explore something new. Rick lets you despite the jealousy brewing inside him.

cw smut, voyeurism, unprotected p in v, jealousy but also cuckolding lowkey, teacher - student relations, power imbalance, age gap, creampie, blow jobs, mentions of underage drinking (Reader is 20, legal drinking age is 21), outdoor sex

2.7k words

series masterlist

"Ready yet?" Rosita asked. 

"Gimme a sec," you replied. You were sat on the floor of your dorm room, doing your makeup in front of the floor-length mirror. 

"I'm ready," Maggie said as she grabbed her purse. 

Your two best friends, Maggie and Rosita, wanted to go to a bar to celebrate finishing mid terms. You were apprehensive at first, considering you weren't twenty-one quite yet, but they promised you'd still have a good time. 

"Alright, let's go!" 

Maggie came back to the table carrying everyone's drinks- a cosmopolitan for Rosita and a scotch and soda for her. The drink she slid in front of you was pink with cherries in it. 

"Ooh, what's this?" you asked curiously. 

"Shirley Temple," Maggie said, struggling to hold back a laugh. Rosita bursted into a contagious fit of giggles, Maggie joining in, but you stared at them with a flat face. 

"What? S'not my fault you're not twenty-one yet," she told you once the two of them calmed down. 

"Ha. Ha," you said sarcastically before taking a sip of the non-alcoholic beverage. It was delicious, which made you madder. You drank with them all the time outside of bars, but now of all times Maggie wanted to abide by the law? 

"Thank god mid terms are over. We can finally rest," Maggie said, leaning back into her seat. 

"Is it just me, or was Professor Grimes' midterm unnecessarily hard?" Rosita asked. 

"I thought it was fine." 

"Speak of the devil," Maggie said and you all turned to look where she was looking. Over at the counter stood Professor Grimes and Professor Dixon, looking delicious in casual clothing. You shrunk in your seat, willing Rick to not see you. You weren't doing anything wrong, but you didn't want him seeing you at a bar to shatter the good girl image you worked so hard to maintain. Thankfully, when the men got their beers, they sat elsewhere without noticing you. You let out a breath of relief you didn't even know you were holding. 

"I'ma get me a real drink," you tell your friends as you stand up from the table. 

"Told you she'd want a big girl drink," Rosita joked. Maggie laughed but you just rolled your eyes. You sauntered over to the bar and ordered yourself a long island iced tea. Miraculously, your fake ID fooled the bartender, that or she just didn't care. You made sure to keep an eye on Rick’s table, making sure neither of the men saw you. 

“See, the fake ID did work!” You boasted upon returning to the table with your drink. 

“I’m surprised Eugene even made that for you,” Rosita commented. 

“I may have twisted the truth on why I needed it.” The three of you burst into a fit of laughter before going back to chatting about anything and everything. 

“I’m gonna order us a round of shots,” Rosita said after a while. 

After multiple rounds of shots- you lost count- the three of you were rather tipsy. Maggie and Rosita had to hold you up as you were too tipsy to walk straight. Neither of you were in a state to drive, so you had called a ride. 

“Look, it’s Professor Grimes!” You said a little too loudly, obviously pointing at him. Your friends shushed you, covering your mouth with a hand, not wanting the attention of their professor. But it was too late, him and Professor Dixon were on their way over.

“Everything alright, ladies?” He asked. He looked so good in that black t-shirt and jeans and so did Professor Dixon. The cotton fabric could barely restrain his strong arms as they were crossed over his chest. 

“Rick!” You squealed, wiggling yourself free from your friends’ arms and stumbling into his. He caught you and held a strong arm around your waist so you wouldn’t fall. The two women stared at the interaction strangely, but didn’t say anything. 

“C’mon, we gotta get back to the dorms,” Maggie said, holding her hand out toward you. 

“Nooo, wanna go with Rick,” you slurred, burying your face in his chest. Rick sighed. 

“I got her, I’ll make sure she gets to her dorm safe,” he promised. The women gave some pushback, but between Rick’s insistence and your whining, they finally agreed to let you go with him. When they finally got picked up by the ride you called, Rick picked you up bridal style and carried you to his car with Daryl in tow. 

"You fuckin' yer student?" Daryl asked before taking a drag of his cigarette. He and Rick were sat on his porch, having some beer and smoking together. You were inside, asleep on the couch in one of Daryl's t-shirts. You had fallen asleep in the car ride back to the dorms and neither man thought it’d look right to carry your sleeping form back to your room, so instead they took. You back to Daryl’s place. They couldn’t bring you back to Rick’s considering his wife and kid were there. 

"Yeah. S'more than that, though. She's more than just a good fuck," he explained. 

"Have her in one of my classes. She's such a tease." Although Rick laughed, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy. He didn't like the idea of you going around flirting with his colleagues like you do him. 

"Yeah? How so?" 

"Always wearin' those goddamn low cut tops and leanin' on my desk, or wearin' them tiny skirts with no panties on," he explained. Those little things you did were how you got Rick's attention in the first place. He wondered if he was the only one, or if you did this with all of your professors. The thought left a bad taste in his mouth. 

"Never gave into it?" Rick asked, shocked. This time Daryl laughed. 

"Ain' riskin' my job over no damn pussy!" 

“Hey!” You chimed in, offended. The men’s head snapped toward you, just now realizing you were awake. 

“You’re finally awake,” Rick commented. He, surprisingly, didn’t seem too happy to see you. Daryl’s face remained expressionless as he watched the two of you. 

“Where am I? What’s going on?” You asked, now way more sober than before. 

“You fell asleep in the car, so we took you to Daryl’s house. Got you changed into one of his spare shirts and let you sleep on his couch,” Rick explained cooly. You looked at Daryl and he just glanced up at you with a cigarette in his mouth. You were shocked he’d do something so nice for you, considering he didn’t even look your way, despite your advances. 

“Ain't you gonna thank him?” 

“Th-thank you, Dar- Professor Dixon,” you said, flustered. “Welcome,” he replied with a nod of his head. 

“Take a seat,” Rick ordered, patting his lap. You hesitantly sat on his lap, not really wanting to under the curious gaze of Daryl. With one hand, he roughly grabbed your face, forcing you to look at him. 

“You wanna tell me what you were doin’ at that bar, drunk?” 

“Uhh…drinking?” His grip tightened, squeezing your cheeks causing your lips to puff out. 

“Underage drinking?” 

“M-my birthday’s in a few months, Rick, it’s no big-“

“If I were still a cop, I’d’ve thrown your ass in jail.” His tone was dark, almost scary even. Your eyes watered, tears threatening to spill over. You’ve never seen him like this before. 

“Rick, why’re you bein’ so m-mean?” You whimpered. Rick understood the hypocrisy of his actions. Punishing you for having eyes for his colleague when he was a married man, using you as an escape from his commitment. It was wrong, but he couldn’t help the anger, the jealousy, he felt knowing he wasn’t the only one. 

“Why don’ you ask Professor Dixon?” He turned your head to face him. Shame washed over you. You didn’t want him seeing you like this, a tearful pathetic mess sitting on the lap of your superior after clinging to him like a drunk mess earlier. 

“Wha’s goin’ on? I’m c-confused?” You asked, finally letting your tears fall. 

Daryl noticed the change in his best friend’s demeanor as soon as he told him about your behavior in his class. Now knowing that you were Rick’s, he’d never betray him like that. No matter how tempted he was by your innocent doe eyes always paying attention to him when he taught, or the way you teased him with the little outfits you wore, or how you’d frequent his office hours, pretending to need help just so you could have one on one time with him. 

“Jus’ told him ‘bout your…interestin’ behavior in my class,” he innocently explained before finishing off his beer. He know how much trouble that’d get you in, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t interesting in how it’d play out. 

You turned to face Rick, ready to deny Daryl’s claims and defend yourself, but the stern look he gave you caused the words to die on your tongue. He lifted you off his lap and pushed you toward the other man, causing you to stumble and clumsily fall in into his lap. He caught you, but kept you at a distance, afraid to touch you, because if he did, he doubted he’d be able to stop. 

“If you wan’ him so bad, go on ahead and have him. That’s okay with you, right Daryl?” Rick grabbed another beer from the cooler and uncapped it with his teeth. You looked between the two of them, not even knowing what to think. Daryl, too, was looking at Rick apprehensively. 

“Rick, wha’s goin’ on?” Daryl asked. 

“Well she clearly wants you and I saw that way you’ve been lookin’ at her all night. So go on and have at each other,” he explained nonchalantly. You and Daryl exchanged a confused glance. Of course you wanted this to happen, obviously not in this way. Daryl did too. Having you in his lap in one of his shirts made his pants fit uncomfortably. You wanted to make a move, you really did, but what should've been a beautiful moment was awkward. Neither you nor Daryl knew if this was a test of some sorts to test either person's loyalty to Rick, or if he was really allowing this. 

"It's okay, sweetheart, show Professor Dixon how grateful you are for him helpin' you out." He seemed less angry and held sincerity in his eyes. You relaxed a little, having Rick give you commands was comforting. You slid off Daryl's lap and kneeled in between his legs, looking up at him through your lashes. You undid he belt and unzipped his pants, pulling them down a little after he lifted his hips to let you do so. You glanced over at Rick as you pulled Daryl's hard cock from his boxers. Rick just watched with a blank face and beer bottle in hand. Daryl's warm hand cupped you cheek, earning your full attention. 

"Don' look at Rick, look at me," he commanded softly. Butterflies erupted in your tummy seeing this side of the usually reserved professor. 

"Yes, sir." You licked him from base to tip along the vein on the underside of his cock a few times before taking him all the way into your mouth. He wasn't as girthy as Rick, but he exceeded him in length, making it hard to take all of him in your throat, but that didn't stop you from trying. You gagged when his tip hit the back of your throat, making your eyes water. 

"S'alright, girl, keep goin'," he coaxed. Warmth erupted throughout your body and you became hellbent on pleasuring the gorgeous man before you. You bobbed your head up and down on his dick, earning soft grunts from him here and there, but that wasn't enough, you wanted to have him panting and moaning. You held onto his strong thighs as you took him all the way, this time not gagging. Breathing through your nose, you increased your pace, earning some moans. His hand found the back of your head and held it down as he thrusted up into you, fucking your throat, your nose buried in his brown curls.  His moans were music to your ears and made your pussy clench on nothing. You ground your clit against your heel, getting yourself off a bit as Daryl brought himself closer to his climax with your throat. 

"Cum down her throat, she likes that," Rick chimed in. Daryl's pace increased until he finally flooded your mouth with his release. You swallowed every drop after he pulled out. With his thumb, he put the cum that spilled out of your mouth back in. You gladly accepted, sucking his thumb for good measure. 

"Good girl," he praised. Your cheeks warmed at his praise. You wanted to hear more. You wanted to hear him praise you as he was buried deep in your cunt, pounding into you ready to fill you with his seed. 

"Need you," you begged, staring up at him with pleading eyes. He glanced at his friend as if to ask for permission, but all he did was shrug dismissively, like he didn't even care. He didn't want to push the other man's boundaries, but he felt he owed it to himself for all the times he's pushed you away for fear of losing his job. And he felt himself getting hard again. He stood and pulled you up with him before turning you around. 

"Bend over," he ordered and you did, holding onto the porch's railing. He lifted his t-shirt you wore, revealing the little red thong you had on. He was beating himself up internally for turning you down for so long. He was tempted to just shove his face between your thighs and lick the arousal coating them and taste every bit of you. He yanked the thong down, letting it fall to your ankles. He stroked himself a few timed before lining his cock up with your sopping pussy. You were so wet, he slid inside with ease. His mouth fell open and his eyes rolled back. You squeezed him perfectly, your warm, plush walls welcoming him home. His hands gripped your hips almost to the point of leaving a bruise, but it all felt too good. He pulled all the way out before slamming back in earning wanton moan from you. He continued thrusting into you, his composure slipping with each thrust. His hands slid up the shirt feeling your body until he got to your breasts. He groped them as he fucked you. 

"You're fucking me so good, Daryl," you moaned as your felt the coil in your tummy tightening, a signal of your impending orgasm. Your legs shook as you gripped the railing even tighter.  

" 'M close," he grunted, his thrusts losing rhythm as he came close to his second orgasm. Your entire body was on fire, Daryl's hands on you felt new and exciting, every touch of his made your spine tingle. Every ending of your nerves was on fire as you came around his cock, squeezing him for everything he had left. 

"This pussy was made fer ma cock," he grunted. He came undone, painting your walls white with his seed. He continued to fuck you through both his and your orgasm. He pulled his now soft cock out of you, watching his cum slowly leak out of your swollen pussy and drip down your thighs. Daryl put himself back together before sitting back down and helping himself to another beer. After catching your breath, you turned to look at Rick, but be was already looking at you. You expected him to be upset that you were physically unable to resist fucking his colleague, his best friend, but instead his pupils were dilated and there was a prominent bulge in his pants. Watching his best friend fuck you definitely did something to him. 

"You get that outta your system?" he asked. He was still a little snappy, but you were grateful he wasn't as angry as before. 

"Yes, sir," you replied meekly. 

"Good. That should hold you over while I'm punishin' you." 

i have not once set foot in a bar, hopefully that wasnt obvious in my writing lmao. perhaps you noticed this wasn't proofread :p

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[virginsexgod69]

❝ Proud of You ❞

Pairing Professor! Rick Grimes x F! Student! Reader

summary Rick comforts you after finding out your biggest fear is disappointing him.

cw teacher - student relationship, power imbalance, age gap, crying, making out, riding, unprotected p in v, emotional hurt/comfort, pet names, 3rd person pov

1.1k words

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 She nervously chewed on the cap of her pen. She knew she was fucked the moment she walked into Professor Grimes' classroom. She regretted every minute she spent doing anything but study for this damn test. Failing the test, however, was the least of her worries- it was disappointing her professor that she was the most worried about. She blinked back tears as she tried her best to answer questions about unstudied materials. 

 Once the other students had filed out the classroom and she was the only one left, she grabbed her sorry excuse of a test and approached his desk. Her tear filled eyes and quivering lips didn't go unnoticed by him. 

"What's the matter?" he asked after collecting her test and putting it in a neat stack with the others. 

"I fai-" her words got caught in the lump clogging her throat. She fiddled with the hem of her skirt as she attempted to blink back her tears. 

"I failed!" she was finally able to say. But that admission broke the dam and sent hot, salty tears streaming down her face. 

"Hey, hey, don't cry, sweetheart," he soothed as he grabbed her hand and guided her to sit on his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck and sobbed into his shoulder. He stroked her back and hushed her as her tears saturated his crisp, white button up shirt. 

"You're a good girl with good grades. This won' mess up your grade too bad," he reassured. She sat up and he wiped her tears away with his thumb as she sniffled.

"Th-that's not what I'm worried about," she confessed. 

"Well, then, wha's the problem?" 

Her chin and lips started quivering again as new tears formed. "Y-you're gonna b-be," she took a stuttering breath, "disappointedinme!" She buried her face in his shoulder again as she sobbed even harder this time. He soothed her until her sobbing dwindled down into little whimpers. 

"I ain' disappointed in ya. Everyone messes up," he reassured. She sat up and looked at him, mascara tears streaked down her pretty face. It broke his heart to see his star pupil in such a state. 

"N-not me! I never m-mess up!" Fresh tears filled her eyes again, but before she could bury her face in his shoulder again, he cupped her cheek in his hand and swiped her tears away with his thumb. 

"Sweetheart, look at me," he commanded. She couldn't look him in the eyes, not after this. It's one thing to absolutely bomb a test, but another to embarrass herself by being a sorry mess like this was something she doubted she'd ever come back from. 

"Didn't I jus' tell you to do something?" he said more sternly this time. Her eyes snapped up to his, fearing disappointing him even more. Even though it was hard to hold eye contact, she didn't let hers waver and neither did he. She didn't see anything resembling disappointment in his eyes. In fact, he was looking at her so softly. 

"You're r-really not disappointed in m-me?" she muttered. 

"Didn't I jus' tell you that?" he teased, earning a small smile from the pretty girl in his lap for the first time all day. She wrapped her arms around him, but this time instead of crying, she pulled him in for a kiss. He reciprocated with fervor, slipping his tongue between her soft, glossy lips. Without breaking the kiss, she readjusted herself to straddle his hips, sitting right on top of his bulge. His hands slid up her thighs, creeping beneath her short skirt, and cupped her ass in his hands. She giggled against his mouth, a sound he was elated to hear after all her sobbing. 

"I'm gonna make you proud, Professor Grimes," she whispered against his lips. 

"Oh? How's that?" he asked. She already made him proud, but playing into her games wouldn't hurt. She ground down on his hardening cock, earning a breathy moan from him. 

"The door's not locked," he warned. 

"Then I'll make this quick." She undid his belt and unzipped his pants with quickness. Once his hard cock was no longer restricted by its confines, she stroked it a few times causing precum to bubble at the tip. Moving her panties aside, she lined him up with her entrance before sinking down. Rick Grimes was well endowed, so the stretch stung each time. 

"Y'alright, sweetheart?" he asked. Her only response was pressing kisses to his jaw and neck as she undid his tie. His hands reluctantly stopped kneading her ass and instead helped pull her shirt over her head once she was done unbuttoning his. Her hands grasped his shoulders once she was ready to move again, and used them for support as she lifted herself off him, until only the tip was inside then dropped herself back down. His big dick filled her so good that the outline of it could be seen through her stomach. Rick's head lolled back as he moaned in pleasure, his grip on her hips almost bruising her soft skin. She squeezed him with her velvety walls, feeling ridge his veins provided.

"Feel so good, baby," he groaned as his student bounced on his cock. His hands traversed up her body, until they reached her bra. He unclasped the pesky thing and tossed it aside, releasing her breasts so he could watch the fleshy mounds bounce as she rode him. He took her nipples- hardened by the air conditioning blasting in the room- and pinched them between his index fingers and thumbs.

"Oh my god, Professor Grimes," she moaned out. Her calling him Professor Grimes during sex always did something to him. His cock twitched inside of her, his release not far.

"I'm 'bout to cum," she warned. He could tell by the way her rhythm became sloppy and the way she squeezed him.

"I know, baby, me too," he said before taking a breast into his mouth, nipping at and sucking on the nipple. His hand slid beneath her skirt and began rubbing the bundle of nerves through her panties. She screamed his name as she came, seeing stars as she did. Rick came too, his hot loads of cum filling up her sweet cunt as he threw his head back in ecstasy, guttural moans erupting from him. He continued to rub her clit until she came down from her orgasmic high. When she did, she slumped over onto his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, pressing a kiss to her slightly sweaty hairline. 

"Did I make you proud?" she asked. 

She felt his chest vibrate as he chuckled. 

"Always been proud of you, darlin'." 

would i even be who i am if i proofread this?

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@banquetwriter @eternalrose81 @the-dixon-effect @dilfsandmartinis

[virginsexgod69]

❝ Yes, Professor Grimes ❞

A college/ university AU featuring Professors Grimes and Dixon and Coach Negan

*all of these one shots take place in the same universe, but can be read independent of each other. if you'd like to make requests for this au, feel free!

✎ Proud of You - Rick Grimes

summary Rick comforts you after finding out your biggest fear is disappointing him.

✎ Jealous - Rick Grimes + Daryl Dixon

summary After getting drunk with your friends, you wake up at Professor Dixon's place where you explore something new. Rick lets you despite the jealousy brewing inside him.

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[virginsexgod69]

REQUEST ‼️‼️‼️

I’ve always wanted to read one where the reader is one of Hershel’s daughters (set in season 2). When Daryl and the group show up the reader won’t stop teasing Daryl and eventually he can’t take it anymore. Please make my dreams come true 😭😭🤘. (p.s virgin reader would be +50 points ;)

❝ V-Card ❞

pairing (S2) Daryl Dixon x virgin!fem!Reader

cw loss of virginity, unprotected p in v, lowkey inexperienced daryl, but also not really?, teasing, some pining, daryl kinda being a boob man, reader being a little pervy at times

note i am so sorry i kept you waiting 32 days for this request @mygrandmaschinacabinet, i really hope you like this and thank you for your patience and kind comment on my other post!

p.s. just bc reader is hershel's daughter does not imply anything ab her appearence

~5.k words

 Living on a farm that was fairly far from society, it was a given that you wouldn't see good looking guys too often. But being a good looking girl, the guys you didn't want were always the ones after you, and you'd always have to turn them down. When she gets older, she's gonna have to fight off boys with a stick, was something your grandma would often tease your father, Hershel, about. You laughed it off, not paying any mind to it, but boy did she end up being right. You spent a good portion of your high school years rejecting your suitors, none of which were good enough for you, and none of which you really wanted. But when you finally laid eyes on the most beautiful man you've ever seen, he happened to be one who seemed to pay you no attention. 

 Odd circumstances brought the beautiful man, whom you quickly learned was named Daryl Dixon, to your farm. Otis shot a kid, Hershel took him in to care for, and his dad's group eventually made a home on your father's land. You couldn’t help but ogle at him from your bedroom window whenever you got the chance. The way his biceps flexed whenever he worked with his arms had your virgin pussy aching to be filled by him. He was a man who you’d let do things to you that you’d let no other man before even think he had a chance of doing. 

“Not this again,” Maggie complained upon entering your room. You were perched at your window -like you have been since the group first arrived- watching Daryl skin some squirrels. No one could look as good as he did while doing such a grisly task. 

“Can you blame me? Jus’ look at him,” you replied dreamily. 

“No thanks.” 

“Whatever. You have your eye candy, I have mine.” 

“Eye candy? What’re you talkin’ about?” She asked defensively. 

“Glenn. I’ve seen the way you look at him, like he’s a piece of meat,” you teased. 

“Whatever! Do you need anythin’? I’m goin’ out on a run.” 

“With Glenn?” 

 She let out an annoyed huff and exited the room, not awaiting your response. But you didn’t need anything anyway. You went back to watching Daryl. The sweltering Georgia heat caused sweat to drench his sleeveless shirt and drip from his short, dark hair. He looked like he walked out of one of your many wet dreams. Just then, an idea popped into your head. You hurried down to the kitchen and filled a glass with water, cooling it with the scoops of ice you added. Surely this kind deed would put you on his radar. 

“Hey, Daryl,” you cheerily greeted as you approached the rugged man. He sat on a stump, now gutting the squirrels he already skinned. He grunted in response, not looking up from his work. Your smile dropped, not that it mattered, considering he wasn’t even looking at you. 

“Brought you some water. It’s pretty hot out here and I wouldn’t want ya gettin’ dehydrated,” you said as you held out the cold glass, now dripping with condensation. “Thanks.” He grabbed the glass, his fingers slightly brushing yours, sending a tingling through your spine. He threw his head back, downing the water. A small stream of water dripped down his chin, then his neck, sliding down his shirt no longer in your vision. You squeezed your thighs together. Every little thing he did drove you crazy. You felt like a victorian man who’d just seen a peek of a woman’s ankle whenever you were around Daryl. 

“You uh… Ya need somethin’?” He asked when he noticed you haven’t left yet. You froze. You didn’t need anything, but you didn’t want to leave either. 

“Jus’ came to check on ya, I guess,” you muttered. 

“ ‘M fine?” He tossed the squirrel’s guts into a bucket. 

“Well, alright. My work here is done!” You cringed as the words left your mouth. You grabbed the emptied glass and walked back into the house, chastising yourself the entire way. You wanted nothing more than to have him look at you the way other guys do, but he barely give you the time of day. 

 The glimmer of sunbeams on your face woke you up the next morning. You glanced at the analog clock on your nightstand that read 11:36. You hopped out of bed and eagerly hurried to your window, hoping Daryl would be back from hunting or looking for that little girl or whatever else it was he did when he wasn’t in his usual spot. He was sat on that stump again, but this time he was cleaning his crossbow with that red rag he kept on him. You couldn’t take it anymore, you had  to do something. He couldn’t keep getting away with being so hot and so uninterested in you. 

 You readied yourself in the bathroom, making sure every hair was in place and every tooth was brushed. You debated putting on makeup. You had some leftover from before, but never had a reason to use it, not until now. You layered on some mascara until your lashes looked twice as long and twice as full and coated your lips with some tinted gloss. You stared into your closet debating on what you thought Daryl’d like better. Your tightest, shortest shorts and a nearly see-through tank top. 

“What’re doin’ all dolled up like that?” Your younger sister, Beth asked upon entering the kitchen. 

“Makin’ lunch for D-,” you stopped yourself, not wanting another sister catching onto your thing for Daryl, “for the group out there.” 

“Daddy doesn’t want us wastin’ all our stuff on them,” she protested. You rolled your eyes at her. She could be such a goody-two-shoes sometimes. “What he don’ know won’ hurt him.” You cut a piece of the sandwich you made and handed it to Beth. 

“Eat this and keep quiet.”  

You assembled the sandwich and a glass of lemonade on a tray and carried it over to his lone camp. He didn’t look at you until you were standing before him holding the tray of food. His eyes slowly made their way up to yours, lingering on your bare legs and exposed cleavage on their way up. You couldn’t help the small smirk that tugged the corners of your mouth at this small victory. He quickly averted his gaze and set his crossbow down. 

“Wha’s all this?” He asked, nodding his head toward the tray in your arms. 

“Made ya lunch. Figured you’d be hungry after all that huntin’ and searchin’ you been doin’,” you answered as you set down the tray. 

“Uh, thanks?” He seemed confused, but grateful nonetheless. “Of course,” you replied with a bright smile before sauntering off, swaying your hips more than usual. Unbeknownst to you, he watched you until the door closed behind you. 

 In the days that passed, you upped the ante on your teasing. Daryl noticed. At noon almost everyday, you’d bring him lunch in risqué little outfits. Not quite skimpy, but just enough to tease him. And tease him they did. He already was too nervous to look at you, afraid he might scare you off with his gruff nature and lack of experience with women. He’d choose, instead, to catch glimpses of you when you weren’t watching. Like when you’d leave after bringing him something, or when you’d be around doing farm-work or interacting with the other members of his group. But when you started wearing those revealing outfits, it became harder for him to keep from looking at you. But when he made eye contact with you, he became so nervous and shy that he had to look away. You were the sun. He could feel your warmth, even when he couldn’t see you. You were so bright and beautiful that he felt pulled to look at you, but whenever he did, it couldn’t be for long because he’d forcibly look away, your bright smile burning his sensitive retinas. 

 Speaking of the sun, there you were. “Daryl!” You called as you ran to him. The actual sun glowed behind you, making you look even more like an angel. He was atop one of your horses ready to leave the farm to look for Sophia. He was shocked to see you since you usually weren’t up until noon. He’d know since that’s around the time he sees you watching him through your window. 

“Yeah?” He grunted. 

“Ya goin’ out to look for that little girl?” Once you were out of the sunlight, he could actually get a good look at you.  Something in him stirred when he saw you in the little dress you had on. It was a cream color with ruffles at the bottom and it gave him a good view of your breasts from his position on the horse. He quickly tore his eyes away and looked at the view ahead of him, which was nowhere near as beautiful as you. 

“I figure you’ll be gone for a bit, so I brought you a little bite to eat,” you said holding up a few muffins you made the other night wrapped in cheesecloth. 

“T-thanks,” he stuttered. Despite how frequent it was, he was always taken aback by the kindness you show him. He’s never been treated the way you treat him before and it caught him off guard. 

“Be back by dinner, okay?” It wasn’t a command, more of a hopeful question, but made his heart flutter. 

“I’ll try.” He didn’t want to make any promises he couldn’t keep. You stood there fiddling with your dress about to say something but deciding against it each time. 

“Wha’ is it?” 

“B-be safe out there!” You blurted before scampering off. He found it odd how you could be so bold with your teasing, yet shy when it came to actually talking to him. 

  Your words echoed in his head as he searched for any sign of Carol’s lost daughter. Your request of be back by dinner, okay? motivated him to get back to the farm, despite his injuries from the horse tossing him down a cliff making it difficult for him to move. But what really stuck with him was your horrified scream when you saw Andrea shoot him. That scream haunted his dreams while he was unconscious. The terror of it being the last thing he’d hear from you was his real nightmare. So when he heard your soft “Hey,” he felt relief wash over him, despite the pain everywhere else. He blinked his dry eyes open only for the first thing for him to see being your tits. You had on a loose t-shirt with no bra underneath. He didn’t know if this was a part of your teasing or a pure mistake, but either way, his cock stirred at the sight. You leaned down further to look into his eyes. 

“How ya feelin’?” You ask, placing the back of your hand to his forehead. He tried to croak out a response, but his throat was too dry. You quickly grabbed the glass of water at his bedside and helped him drink it. 

“Better?” 

“ ‘M fine,” he said. You gave him a look that said you didn’t believe him, but were humoring him anyway. “You were injured pretty badly, Daryl,” you said as you gently stroked his hair. He caught himself before he could fully melt into your touch. In fact, he moved away from it. 

“I know, ‘m fine,” he snapped before trying to roll over, away from you. He didn’t like you seeing him like this. So weak and frail, having to depend on those around him. He didn’t see the hurt expression that took over your pretty face. But, to his luck, you didn’t let him push you away. Instead, you toed off your shoes and got into the bed beside him, facing him. He hoped to the high heavens that you couldn’t see the redness that blossomed on his face when you flashed your bright smile at him. 

“I’ll keep ya company,” you promised. 

“Don’ need no company, said ‘m fine.” He didn’t know why he was so adamant about pushing you away. The minute he realized you were in here, he brightened up. He didn’t want his sunshine to leave, but he couldn’t help the storm that was brewing inside him. 

“Well, if you really want me to leave, I’ll go.” You were almost out of the bed before his clammy hand grabbed your wrist. 

“Nah, you can stay,” he said, prompting the return of that bright smile. 

 When you woke up, the sun was setting and Daryl’s arm was around your waist, holding you close. Your heart swelled, this was all you ever wanted, to be in Daryl’s arms. Okay, well you wanted more than just his arm around you, but small victories! You gently moved his arm off you so you could get up and get some dinner from him and yourself. 

“What were you doin’ in there?” Your father asked as soon as you stepped out of the room. He stood outside, about to come in, holding a tray of food for the bowman. 

“Nothin’, Daddy, I was jus’ checkin up on our patient!” It was the truth, but it felt like a lie. 

“Since earlier this afternoon?” He pressed. 

“Lost track of time,” you explained. 

“Now, honey, I know you’re just lookin’ out for him, but-“ 

“I know, I know, you don’t really trust them, but I’m just lovin’ thy neighbor, so to speak.” You bargained. 

That response seemed to satisfy him for now. He handed you the tray of food to give you Daryl. 

“Daryl, dinner,” you called softly upon reentering the room. He groaned, but woke up anyway. He tried to sit up, but winced in pain. You set the tray down and quickly ran to his side to help him out. You adjusted his pillows and helped him to a sitting position. 

“Wha’s fer dinner?” He asked, glancing at the bowl of soup on the tray beside him on the bed. You hummed in thought before dipping your finger into the bowl and sucking it clean, making sure your lips were pouty as you did so, hoping to tease Daryl. 

“Tomato.” He hummed noncommittally before reaching for the spoon. You swatted his hand away. “Nuh uh, you’re still healing, let me feed you.” 

“I can feed myself,” he protested. You furrowed your brows and pouted at him. He sighed and rolled his eyes, but opened his mouth slightly, waiting for a bite. You smiled, scooping up some soup and spooning it into his mouth, making sure to lean forward as to give him a front row seat to the view down your shirt. You saw him avoid looking the first few times, but soon he was unable to resist taking a peek, and soon his peeking became staring (however, he pretended not to be whenever you looked back up at him). 

“Enjoy the soup?” You asked once the bowl was mostly empty. 

“S’alright,” he said as he nibbled on a cracker. You grabbed the bowl and drank the rest of the soup directly from it. 

“Goddammit!” You cursed when a glob of soup fell onto your white t-shirt. But maybe it was a blessing in disguise, a chance to drive Daryl crazy. You grabbed a random t-shirt from one of the drawers and set it down before taking off the one you had, tossing it aside. You put the new one on as if you didn't just give him a strip show. His face was beet red and he hurried to adjust the blankets on his lap. 

"Daryl, you okay? You look a little hot?" 

"S'just w-warm in here." 

"Let me jus' check your temperature." Instead of pressing the back of your hand to his forehead like before, you placed a gentle kiss to it. 

"Feels a little warm." You stayed close to his face. If he moved, even a centimeter, his lips would touch yours, which is what you were hoping for. You glanced down at his lips, then up at his blue eyes, waiting for him to lean in. Despite all this teasing, you kinda wished he'd make a move, too. When he didn't, you pulled away, kissing him on the cheek instead. 

"Get well soon, okay?" you said before taking the tray and leaving. 

Daryl had been mentally punching himself since that night. He was an idiot for not kissing you when he had the chance. You were right there and so obviously waiting for him to do something, anything. But he couldn't. It'd been so long since he'd done anything with a woman, and even then, he didn't think he was any good. He was almost embarrassed about how inexperienced he was at his age. And someone as beautiful as you obviously would have some experience, so why waste time on him. He didn't want to be the cloud that dulled your shine. 

 He was now well enough to be released from Hershel’s care, but not well enough to resume about his usual ways. He’d normally disobey orders to take it easy, but when you made him promise to rest, he couldn’t break it. Subconsciously, he glanced over to your window. It wasn’t something he did often, considering you were usually the one watching him, but you were weighing heavily on his mind. He saw you up in your room, assuming you’d just woken up since it was almost noon. You were at your window, rummaging through your dresser -he knew where it was when he caught a glimpse of your room when he was inside the house. You held up a few shirts, probably deciding on which to wear, before pulling your pajama shirt off over your head. This was now the second, no, third time he’s gotten a perfect view of your tits. God they would feel so good in his hands, better yet, they’d look so good  bouncing in unison with his thrusts as he fucked you into your mattress. Your teasing and mischievous ways only fueled his fantasies, causing his pants to tighten uncomfortably. The little wave you gave him from your window pulled him out of his own head. You, still topless, blew him a kiss before stepping out of frame. 

 His heart rate increased expeditiously as he nearly came in his pants. He couldn’t handle your teasing anymore, it was driving him crazy. He wanted you, not just the fantasies in his head and the company of his hand. He wanted to feel your walls squeeze his cock, hear your little moans as he pleasured you until your mind went numb, become one with you as you came in unison. He hurried into his tent and zipped it all the way up before collapsing onto his sleeping bag and hurrying to undo his pants. He liberated his aching cock from its confines and spat on his hand. He rubbed himself up and down, from base to tip, imagining it was your pretty mouth swallowing him whole. He ignored the sound of distant footsteps approaching his tent and instead chased his climax, which was coming embarrassingly fast. 

“Daryl?” Your distant voice called, but all he heard in his mind was you moaning his name as your nails scratched down his back. 

“You in here?” You asked. Daryl came in his hand, taking extra care to stifle the moan that threatened to spill from his mouth. Reality set in when he saw your shadow standing outside his tent. He quickly wiped his hand off on the closest piece of fabric and shoved himself back in his pants. 

“Need somethin’? He asked. He willed you not to notice his flushed, sweaty face. 

“Watcha doin’ in there?” You asked, trying to peek into his tent. He moved to block your vision. He didn’t need you finding any trace of his earlier activity. Although, the little dress you had on had him ready to continue said activities.

“Nothin’.” 

“Anyway, I came to check on you, make sure you’re takin’ it easy.” 

“I am, was jus’ takin’ a nap,” he lied. 

“Then why are you so red? And sweaty? Are you comin’ down with somethin’?!” You were starting to sound worried, making Daryl feel guilty. You reached up to feel his forehead and check for a fever, but he stepped back, avoiding your touch. If he felt your skin on his, in any capacity, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold back anymore. 

“Daryl, don’t be so stubborn!” You stepped closer only for him to step back again. 

“Ain’ got no fever, girl! S’just hot out here!” He insisted. 

“Don’ know that for sure. If it is one, it could mean one of your wounds is infected.” 

“S’not a fever, ‘m sweaty from workin’ out.” You looked at him with an eyebrow skeptically raised and a hand on your hip. So much for takin’ a nap, you thought. Your eyes traveled down his body before meeting his again, this time with look more mischievous than usual in your eyes. 

“Your fly’s down.” He quickly zipped it up, cursing himself for the dumb mistake. 

“Anythin’ to do with your ‘work out’?” 

“Dunno what yer gettin’ at.” His heart was beating faster in his chest, this time because of anxiety. You were onto him and he was about to get caught, humiliated under your scrutinizing gaze.

“Flushed, sweaty face.” You took a step closer and he took one back. “Dilated pupils.” Another step forward and another one back. “Unzipped fly.” He stepped back, not looking where he was going and stumbled onto the grassy ground. You sat down next to him. “Took forever to open your tent.” Your face split into a grin like the Cheshire Cat.   “I’d say you were in there masturbatin’.” He stumbled over his words, looking for what to say in denial of your observation accusation. You pressed your pointer finger to his lips. 

“Shh, it’s okay.” You leaned over him and slid your hand down his chest. “I touch myself, too.” His sparkling blue eyes went wide. “Usually thinkin’ ‘bout you when I do it.” You could feel his breathing change as you slid your hand further down his toned stomach. “Were you thinkin’ ‘bout me?” His face was beet read and breathing shallow. You had him and he was more than ready, willing, and able to give in. He nodded his head, confirming your suspicions. 

“Well, next time I’m on your mind,” you leaned down, lips ghosting his parted ones, “don’t just settle for your hand.” His lips finally met yours in a heated kiss. The built up tension from his days of pining and yours of teasing finally being released in that kiss. You tangled your fingers in his hair, deepening the kiss, slipping your tongue inside and drinking in all his pleasured groans. 

“Wanna go back to my room?” You asked after pulling away. 

“Nah, too far. Let’s go inside my tent.” You happily agreed and hurried inside, zipping it up behind Daryl. His mouth was back on yours in an instant, passionately exploring it with his tongue. He kissed his way down to your neck, roughly sucking marks. 

“Oh, Daryl!” You shouted when he reached a certain spot on your neck, just beneath your ear. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him impossibly close. Nervously, Daryl’s hand experimented with touching your body, his hands firmly gripping your hips. They were comfortable there and not daring enough to try anything else. He wanted to impress you, but at the same time he didn’t want you to notice that he had no clue what he was doing or what to do next, using the pirated porn and one night stands of his past as reference. Your hands grabbed his and placed them on your tits. 

“Touch me, Daryl!” You whined. His hands groped and kneaded at the soft mounds of flesh hidden behind the thin fabric of your dress. He pulled down the front of your dress, freeing your tits then recapturing one by putting it in his mouth. His large hand toyed with the right while his mouth suckled the other. Your little wanton whimpers egged him on, giving him the confidence to try more. Your squirmed beneath him, squeezing your thighs together. His cock was also painfully hard, once again, and yearning to feel your warm walls around him. He pulled away and undid his pants before pulling out his cock, stroking it a few times. He looked up at you, but you looked less excited. Your eyes wouldn’t meet his and your arms were crossed over your chest, hiding yourself from him. 

“Wha’s the matter, Sunshine?” He asked, the nickname rolling of his tongue naturally. He was more than excited to sleep with you, but his worry regarding your sudden change outweighed that. 

“N-nothin’. Jus’ put it in,” you said hoarsely. 

“Nah, we ain’ doin’ nothin’ unless ya tell me wha’s wrong.” It sounded harsh, but it came from a place of genuine concern. 

You sat up, readjusting your dress as you did so. “I-it’s jus’,” you nervously fiddled with the hem of your dress, something Daryl noticed you did a lot around him. “C-can we go slow? I haven’t done any of this stuff before,” you admitted. 

“You a virgin?” He asked, astonished. You glumly nodded your head as if you were accepting defeat. In a twisted way, that relieved him a bit. Maybe since you’ve never had sex, you wouldn’t notice his own lack of experience.  He put himself in his boxers before patting the spot in front of him. You crawled over to him and sat between his legs, your back against his chest. His lips found that spot on your neck again and began sucking there as his hand slid underneath your panties. He rubbed your clit in tight circles, causing your thighs to clamp shut over his hand. 

“Jus’ relax,” he coaxed. You relaxed the best you could, but the pleasure kept you from staying still. 

“F-faster,” you whimpered. He obeyed your command, rubbing you at a quicker pace. Your head fell back against his shoulder and you moaned in his ear. His other hand slipped beneath your panties and gathered your arousal on his finger, before he slowly slid it inside you, giving you time to adjust. He pumped it in and out of you as he continued to rub your clit. Your back arched off him as you moaned his name. He easily slipped in a second finger with how wet you were. Your velvety walls were so soft around his thick digits. He couldn’t wait to feel them with his cock. He moved his fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion, hitting you in a spot that had you babbling nonsense. You squeezed his fingers with your soaking cunt as your first orgasm overtook your body. 

“Daryl, I’m ready. Need ta feel ya inside me,” you slurred. He helped you lay down on your back and slid your panties off before pulling his painfully hard cock out again. Your legs rested over his thighs as he coated his member in your juices before lining it up with your entrance. He slid in as slowly as he could, making sure this would be as painless as it could be for you. You were so soft, slippery, and smooth around him, the best pussy he’s ever had. Once he was all the way in, he stopped to give you time to adjust. He leaned down and connected your lips in another kiss, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled held him close. 

“You can move now.” His hands gripped your hips as he started slowly thrusting in and out of you, not wanting to give you too much too soon. His pleasured grunts mingled with your moans as he slid in and out of you. 

“More, need more!” You whined. He adjusted your position, placing your legs over his broad shoulders. The new position allowed him to fill you even better. As he pounded in and out of you, the erotic sounds of damp skin slapping damp skin filled the tent, harmonizing with his and your sounds of pleasure. He lifted your dress over your head, getting rid of the barrier between you and him, and tossed it aside. His own fantasies came true as he watched your tits bounce in unison with his thrusts. He took them in his hands again, rolling your nipples between his finger and thumb, bringing you closer to your climax. 

“Daryl I think I’ma-” Your sentence trailed off into a moan as you came around his cock. He fucked you through your orgasm as his own approached. He pulled out of you just as he was about to finish and came all over your tits and stomach, like a firehose. You let out a satisfied hum, barely able to keep your eyes open. He grabbed one of his discarded shirts and cleaned you off before laying beside you in the sleeping bag. You rolled over to face him and hugged him close in your arms. 

“You were the best first I coulda asked for,” you confessed. Your words soothed his worries that he didn’t perform well enough while also making his heart flutter.

“Guess all yer teasin’ paid off.” You giggled against his chest. 

 He pulled you closer to him and pulled you in for another kiss, a sweeter, gentler one this time. You dozed off in his comforting arms, wishing you’d never have to leave. 

i proofread it, yaaay! anyway, thanks for reading! <3

i wrote this instead of doing my homework, mwahahahah >=]

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♱ Taglist ♱

@fuckedbydaryl @banquetwriter @eternalrose81

[virginsexgod69]

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inspiration given by @yummymeee (you are giving me good ideas thank you thank you lovely 🩵)

☾₊˚ ༘⋆

daryl wasn’t one to fuck a girl on his motorcycle, yet here he was. letting you bounce on his cock while a cigarette hung off his lips.

“‘atta girl,” he praised you, a hand roughly gripping your ass as you slid up and down his thick length. his other hand was taking the cancer stick from his lips and puffing the smoke out, clouding your vision temporarily.

you ceased your movements just to snatch the cig from daryl’s fingers and bring it up to your parted, panting mouth.

“did i tell ya ta stop?” daryl grumbled. this time he placed both hands on either side of your hips and thrusted up into you, vehemence in his mannerism. a whine sneaked past your lips which hugged loosely around the cigarette, while daryl proceeded to jostle his hips against yours.

you took a hurried hit from the cigarette and offered it back to daryl. he caught it in his grasp but before tucking it back between his teeth, he smashed his lips onto your own, the menthol on your tongue a lingering taste on his own. yours bodies pressed together, the stifled cries of pleasure vibrating into daryl’s hot mouth as he steered your hips, plowing himself into you.

it was like a scene from steamy romance film — a careless woman unable to resist her intriguing biker-archer loverboy with a somewhat cloak-and-dagger personality, so she decides that seducing him in the middle of the night on his motorcycle is the right approach to her longing. unironically you probably had watched a movie similar to that back in the day; you lived for anything to do with passionate romance in literature and film.

and now, your lust for passion manifested into this moment, with your core hugging around daryl dixon’s throbbing cock that was pounding into you, while you were rocking on top of his sleek leather cushioned bike.

daryl’s hands kept their place on your hips, which you were certain would end up leaving marks on your skin. but that didn’t concern you, because the way the archer was ramming his cock into that precious spot in your sopping cunt made you high. so fucking high off his cock.

your tits bounced with each thrust of his hips underneath you. the cig was dangling from your mouth, the spark in it slowly starting to die due to lack of use. daryl noticed and swiftly took it from your mouth, placing it in his own, all the while his assault on your yearning hole quickened and became harsher. he couldn’t help but reach a hand up to your breast, fondling the hardened bud with his fingertips while kneading the flesh with his palm.

all of the stimulation was becoming overwhelming. “unhh, dar, gonna cum,” you whined, your upper body losing its strength. your shaky hands anchored your body by grabbing a hold of his stiff and broad shoulders. in your fucked out state you finally gave in and fully collapsed your weight into him, tits pressing against his hard chest as he bouced your bruised hips on his large cock.

daryl grunted with each thrust, the intensity of his pace escalating. your throbbing clit rubbed against his pubic bone, sending waves of pleasure coarsing through your blood. eventually daryl pulled you steadily by the hair, lifting you off his chest, “need ta see yer face,” he rasped, husky voice leaving you even more of a crumbling mess.

you bit your lip and gripped daryl’s shoulders to steady yourself and ultimately keep you from cumming right then. he took notice in your desperate fucked out state and slowed his thrusts. the cigarette in his mouth was almost down to a nub, so he took one last puff and let the smoke bombard both of your glistening bodies, then tossed it to the ground.

“i gotcha. ‘m gonna—“ he released a heaving groan, his voice giving out from the way your tight walls clenched around him. “‘m gonna fuckin’ cum in ya if ya don’ stop tha’”

your mind was hazy, legs trembling around his waist, ready to release yourself onto his bulging member that greedily fucked your hole.

“please, daryl!” your eyes brimming with tears, the sensations swallowing you whole. sweat dripped from the bangs that hung over his eyes, and under the dim glow of the firepit you could see in his eyes that he was ready for release.

daryl brought a hand down to pinch your clit. “go ‘head, cum f’me ya dirty girl.” and that was all you needed to hear in order to spill out all over his cock, making a wet mess in his lap. his hand reached back to your mouth, muffling your whimpers to ensure no walkers would barge in on the lewd scene you two were creating. soon he pulled your slick folds off his cock so that he could release his load onto your stomach.

the two of you were a sweating huffing hot mess. “wow, dixon.” you brushed the sweaty hair away from your face, “didn’t really think you’d actually fuck me on your precious bike.” you slung a leg over the motorcycle, feet hitting the leafy forest floor and bent down to ruffle through your bag for a cloth to wipe your stomach with.

daryl’s eyes followed your body. “couldn’t help it.”

you smirked, knowing you truly won if daryl dixon actually allowed you on his bike, let alone fuck your brains out on it.

hastily he grabbed your hips and forced you back onto his lap, another cigarette already somehow magically lit up in his mouth. “sit down, i ain’t got to hear bout yer day.”

you would call this an ideal evening — one which continued with you blabbering on endlessly while daryl admired your presence and the comfort of your thighs on his lap.

perhaps he’d end up going for a round two later.

☾₊˚ ༘⋆

[virginsexgod69]

foaming at the mouth rn

petal plush’d

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary:

Sinnedenoderum: Floral Species - When inhaled by human beings it has psychoactive properties as well as acting on the nervous and vascular systems. Often causes a lack of inhibitions and desire or delusion of the need for sexual intercourse. In some cases will cause tumecense in individuals affected. 

Setting: Season 2, the farm. 

Warnings; dub-con (reader is willing but daryl doesn’t ask), drugging (sex pollen, without consent/forcefully), size!kink, panty sniffing, oral (m and f), unprotected piv, mentions of vomit (no one actually vomits), rough sex, swelling genitalia, poorly written SMUT, no plot just VIBES (sex pollen vibes)

Word Count: 3k

A/n: heed the tags y’all. Enter at your own risk. This is more idea/concept than good prose so; sorry if it’s written like dogshit.

18+ mdni. 

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Daryl should know better. Everyone who ever known anything up in the mountains knew you don’t smell the purple flowers. Daryl shouldn’t be wasting any time smelling any flowers. Supposed to be out hunting. But nah, had to stop and do it. After all there was a whole damn bush of ‘em. How could he not? 

Honestly, he’d probably already been influenced by the time he kneeled down and took a big inhale. The spores already creeping in and taking hold of him. As soon as he does it, he stands up straight as an arrow. A mission. A need. An ache. 

He stalks back to camp, handful of flowers and spores that he’s tracking all through the forest. This is how they spread. This is how they used the human species to populate. 

He’s over by the tents, blinking back into reality as he unzips yours. He doesn’t know it’s yours, doesn’t care. Doesn’t matter. His brain is reset - back to zero. Back to puberty and being so horny he could fucking die and he’s going to find a pair of used underwear and he’s going to put it in his fucking mouth. His ears are pounding, he’s never felt dirtier. His cock rock hard and killing him. 

Your few pairs of dirty panties are hidden in a ball in the bottom of your backpack and they are honestly disgusting. Just exactly how Daryl likes them. Worn maybe a few days, and when you were working in the sun. Sweaty and salty and tangy and delicious. His saliva bringing the taste back to life on his tongue, his eyes roll back into his head.

He’s an animal. On all fours in your half unzipped tent with a wad of soiled underwear in his mouth. Hand shooting down his pants to touch himself but it doesn’t feel like anything. 

Nah, he should know better. Knew it wouldn’t. Knew he either had to ride it out or find a girl. But now he knew he had to find whoever these belonged to. This fuckin’ taste. He needed you. 

He quickly scours the tent for a clue as to whose tent it is. Coming across some silly charm bracelet he’s seen you wear and a few notebooks he’s definitely seen you writing in. 

Daryl exits the tent with a bit more hesitancy, his heart pounding even harder. Part of his brain fighting back against what he knew this flower was about to make him do to you. 

This is how they spread. 

He comes across you alone on the far edge of the field hanging laundry on the line, almost hidden in the tall grass that edged the property, grateful that he didn’t have to face anyone else like this. His hand covers his hard dick in his pants before he calls out to you, “Hey!” 

You jump, not realizing anyone had been out here with you, wondering how long he’d been standing there. You give him a once over and realize something’s wrong, he’s out of breath and looks like he’s in pain. “Hey!” You call back, continuing to hang clothes, “What’s going on?” 

You put your hand up to shield the sun as you make eye contact with him. He’s standing there with his hand over his mouth, slumped shoulders, other hand loosely over his crotch - before he starts walking toward you. Feet scraping against the grass as he stalks over. 

“Gonna need yer help w’somethin’.” He shouts, finally getting close enough to speak at a normal volume; to see him without squinting your eyes in the sun. 

He’s flushed, his heart racing. You can tell just by looking at him that whatever he needed help with, you didn’t want to be involved. You assumed it was something like hard labor. Or walking far somewhere. And you were enjoying the mendacity of hanging the laundry on the line. It was serene. "I'm kinda busy, can't someone else help you?"

"Naw, s'gotta be you." He replies quickly, his voice almost dancing up your neck. His moves are deliberate as he positions himself behind you, one hand grazing the skin on your shoulder before pulling it right across your body. Crossed across your chest, he whispers even deeper into your ear, "These're yers, righ'?" He asks gruffly while pulling his arm up and into a light chokehold, elbow crooked around your neck, his whole body pressed into you. Your eyes shoot wide while he holds up a pair of your used panties with an extended arm directly in your line of sight. The light stain clear as day, you're more mortified than confused. His grip gets tighter, "They are, ain't they?" his heavy breaths moving your hair as he speaks into your ear. 

You nod, cautiously, curiously. "Mmhmm" 

As he pulls the panties close to your face you see the soft purple colors of a flower - and then you smell it. On top of your own scent there is a light delicate unmistakeable floral smell. Daryl’s holding the flower inside the panties, shoving them both forcefully in your face. “Don’ be shy, com’awn.” He grunts, without taking his arm from your neck he removes the flower to put the panties back up to his own face. He maneuvers you slightly in his grip and shoves the flower back into your nose. Both of you taking deep breaths in. You don’t have time to wonder what the hell is going on before it hits you. Daryl’s inside his head screaming at himself, but he can’t stop. He doesn’t know he wouldn’t have to use some flower to get with you. Or that you’d probably have done this willingly. 

You don’t have time to think about it. You don’t care. 

You’re overtaken. Set to zero. This insatiable need; you look over at him, gnawing at the light stain right in the center, and it fills you with desire. He tears himself away to see if it had worked yet. Your dilated pupils in the midday sun were an instant give-away. He pulls you fifteen feet towards the tall grass and shoves you backwards, you land on your ass and your elbows but even that pressure and shock vibrates through your body like a dull orgasm. 

Your heads swimming, you’re fucking drowning in it. Daryl’s between your legs and pulling your panties off of you as fast as all of this seemingly has happened, his tongue covered in saliva like he’s fucking drooling for it. He needs you, now. To taste that fuckin’ juice right from the tap. He dives into you nose first, parting your lips harshly for his rough tongue, he’s not trying to please you. He’s trying to eat you alive. He’s never been hungrier. 

There’s a thought prickling in your subconscious; you know the flower is what did this to both of you. Looking down your body, his tongue on your cunt is starting to become way too sensitive, you realize your pussy is swelling. Engorged, puffy, and honestly adorable. Daryl seems to like it, licking along the glossy wet skin more slowly. Taking your swollen lips in his mouth and swirling his tongue all around them. The sensation vibrating inside of you only reminding you of how hollow you feel. “Daryl-!” You choke out, he grunts into you in response. 

“Put that fat cock down my throat already.” Your eyes go wide at your own words, you can’t imagine ever saying that; and yet it slips right out of your mouth like you’d never been more confident in your whole life. It is what you wanted. But…damn. It was like every dirty thing your subconscious ever wanted was pushing it’s way through and to the surface. It’s on your skin, it’s in your thoughts, it’s bursting out of your fuckin’ soul. 

When Daryl hears your words it sparks something inside him too. Reignites a desire long lost to actual experience. Something he’d always wanted to try but never could. He was going to fuck your face until you threw up all over his cock. He smiles, kissing up your leg, “Ya wanna choke on it, huh?” 

Your eyes roll back as you feel him move from between your legs, shuffling through the tall grass to kneel beside you. Daryl gazes down at your body, your skin sunkissed and flushing and perfect, everything seemed brighter. Like you were fuckin sparklin’ in the sunshine. He’s not expecting his cock to be just as swollen as your pussy was, but jesus christ. It almost makes him lose his balance, he’s never seen himself look so big. It turns him on that much more. He can’t take it, your mouth just inches away and drooling for it. 

Your cheeks immediately burn at the entrance of his engorged member. Spit rocketing out the sides of your mouth around him as your breath quickens. He pushes himself deeper into you. poking at the back of your throat and you gag. He doesn’t care, you don’t care. He drives himself in and out of your mouth with no abandon, like he’d never been able to do before. Always too scared, too ashamed, too embarrassed. Never able to take the back of the girls head and just force her down on him. Exactly everything he’s doing to you now. And you love it. Your eyes sting with tears, and you’re gagging and spitting up thick strings of saliva and mucus, and you can hardly breathe. Daryl’s looking down at you, thinking to himself that he’s never seen someone look more fuckin’ beautiful. “Takin’ ma cock like such a good slut, hm?” 

You look up at him, mouth stuffed full. As he speaks your eyes flutter closed, nothing's ever sounded hotter. It seeps into you and shakes your core. Daryl pulls his hips back, hands in your hair and pumps long purposeful strokes into the back of your throat while he continues praising you, “So. Fuckin’. Good. Fer me.” Each grunt another rough assault on your mouth.

Your jaw was starting to seize up, your cheeks completely abused. Your tears turning to real ones, whines at the back of your throat. Snot bubbling out of your nose as you try to breathe. 

Daryl doesn’t notice but he stops anyway, pulling himself out of your mouth, his cock bouncing proudly as he makes his way between your legs again. 

He’d looked down and over you, taken one look at that puffy pussy, jiggling in the sunlight, and the flower took him over. No thoughts left in his head; no more perverse diversions, just the need to empty inside of you. To fill you full. 

You close your eyes and wait as you feel him push through your folds, kissing the head of his cock with your sensitive clit a few times before dipping himself inside of you. His swollen head pushing your walls apart is an agonizingly delicious burn. Slowly inching himself inside, he can’t fucking breathe you’re so fucking tight. 

Every part of you pulsates with extra blood, so sensitive and juicy and perfect. As he starts to pull out, you can feel your pussy being pulled back with it. The size and girth of him creating a suction inside of you, it pulls him back in. Daryl groans deeply at the feeling and begins to reposition himself 

Grabbing your legs and pushing your knees up toward your head, your hips angled directly to the sky as he plunges long deep strokes into you. Your pussy pulling up with his cock every time he pulls out. You can see him pulling and pushing with every thrust, your lips coming to meet his shaft and swallowing him again. 

“Fuckin’ made for ma’ cock, huh?” He takes one hand off the back of your thigh and holds himself at the base, rubbing himself back and forth through your folds harshly. Watching the plump skin jiggle around his cock. He’s never seen anything like it, so full and perfect and so fucking hot. He almost gets lost in it, fucking up and into your tumescent lips, but you want him inside again. You’d never felt so full in your life. 

You buck your hips up into him and he gets the message, burying himself inside of you slowly and to the hilt. He pulls himself out of you again, even slower. Both of you just feeling as every vein and bulge is suctioned tight to your walls as he moves. 

You both seem to drone into this feeling. Him slowly sliding in and out of you, both of you watching as your pussy contracts around him - until you start moving to meet his hips, wanting him even deeper. 

Daryl sits up and repositions you both again, his thick calloused digits moving over your skin so gently in comparison to this whole experience.  Pushing your legs, and repositioning your hips so that you’re face down in front of him. Can’t fuckin’ wait to feel that grip from behind. He knows he’s done for the second you arch your back and push yourself back into him. He’d hardly got the tip in before you were bottoming yourself out ontop of him. As you slowly pull yourself off he watches your asshole puff out, his cock head pushing it out from the inside. Fuck, he can’t even move. Just letting you ride him from underneath, watching your asshole push out and around his cock from inside your fucking body. Holy fuckin’ goddamn shit. 

You milk his cock with your pussy until you can feel him swelling even more. You slow down to give him back control, to let him use you however he wants. Daryl takes one hand on each hip and pushes you flush with the ground. His thumbs spreading you apart so he can watch his cock drive into you as he finishes. He’s doesn’t know it yet but he’s going to think about how good your cunt swallowed him every time he cums for years - it’s the most intense orgasm he’s ever had in his life. 

Pulling your hips back against him with such force his fingernails dig into your skin, your gasping out screams as he fucks into you so deeply you forget how to breathe. You can feel every single twitch of his cock as it pulsates his load inside of you.

But you were still aching. He slumps over ontop of you, his sweat kissed forehead dropping to your shoulder, as if reading your mind he asks you sweetly, “What do you need?” 

“Suck on my tits.” You rasp out, not needing even a moment to think about it. Your nipples had been screaming for attention this whole time. He grunts a smile into the skin of your shoulder before flipping you over on your back again. Moving out from between your legs he kneels on the ground beside your sprawled out body. He moves his hand swiftly over the top of your dress and yanks it down, your nipples just as puffy and swollen as your pussy. Even though the effects of the flower are wearing off Daryl can’t help but salivate again at the sight. He dips his head down to your chest, licking into your nipple, pushing it around inside his mouth. You lose it. The tight tension in your belly unraveling and twisting itself into every part of you. Your hand shoots down between your legs to play with your clit but Daryl pulls it away and replaces it with his own. 

His warm rough fingers circle your sensitive bundle of nerves so gently, you’re dissolving against his touch. Climbing inside and up the steep hill to the top of your orgasm. His lips still tightly sucking on your breast, one hand between your legs, and the other pulling on your other nipple harshly. Your body feels so ruined, so pulled and prodded apart, destroyed against the force of the flower through the arms of a man. It cascades through your cunt like you’re expecting, but you’ve never felt an orgasm that tore through the nerves in your nipples as well. Like every place he’s attached to you explodes all at once. Screaming into the open air while it rips through your body. Pussy to fingertips to toes and back again, a shaking mess underneath of him. 

Daryl didn’t have time to feel the post-nut shame, not with you to take care of. But you feel it. The prickly grass on your skin like small reminders of the dirty things you’d said, you’d done with him. The way he’d seen your body, the way it reacted to him. 

His voice cuts through, as he’s putting himself away and back into his pants, “Shit, sorry I made ya do all that. It’s the damn flower…” he doesn’t even know how to explain, how to begin to apologize for what he’d just done to you. How he’d violated you. 

“No,” you scramble, blushing, “I liked it. I mean-“ you cough, standing up and dusting yourself off, “I know the flower made me really like it. But, I would have… liked it anyway.” 

Daryl observes you getting awkward and stumbling over your words, it makes him feel less like a super fucking predator. He takes a few big strides to stand close to you again, leaning down and kissing your forehead. He touches his thumb to your lips, “Cuz yer fuckin’ made fer me.” He means it. Your scent, the way you fit around him, the way you took his cock so perfectly. Fuckin’ made for him. 

“Don’chya got somethin’ yer s’possed ta be doin’, girlie?” He tugs on some of your hair before slapping your ass and making his way back to the tents. Leaving you to gather yourself and finishing hanging clothes. Going back to tell everyone the bad news that he didn’t hunt anything today. ‘Cept a pretty girl and her womb.

He left that part out. And no one believed him about the flower when he tried to warn them it was in the woods close by. Just an old Appalachian wives tale. Sure. 

a/n: had this idea swimming for a few days, had a few parts written. Blasted it out in a few hours and I didn’t really proofread it but I feel like this is NO PLOT JUST VIBES.