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twdsunshine · 2 years

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F and M with Daryl please? 🥰

Future:

Daryl had never really given much consideration to his future. Before the world ended, the thought would have just been too depressing. Unemployed with a bad reputation, very few friends and little to no hope of changing his situation, he couldn't see a way forward. He just kinda figured he'd be drifting with his brother until the day he died, taking up precious space on the earth's surface and scraping by. And then, once the dead started walking, he wasn't sure he'd survive long enough to have a future to worry about.

And then he'd met you, and everything had changed. Because you seemed to want him, really and truly. You seemed to be able to see past all of the bullshit, all of his baggage and scars, through the walls that he'd built up so high that even he didn't have a hope in hell of tearing them down. And, suddenly, he wanted a future with you so badly that he felt sick with need.

Of course, marriage wasn't really a thing anymore. Glenn and Maggie had done it, with a ring stolen from a corpse and a quiet blessing in a sunny corner of the prison grounds. But there were no papers to sign, nothing official. It just didn't work that way now. And it wasn't like he'd put much stock in it before anyway. It certainly hadn't done shit for his parents, or most of the people he knew, so what was even the point? And yet, he found himself longing for a way to show you that he was with you for as long as you'd have him; that he couldn't promise you forever when people died every single day, but that he could guarantee you that, as long as he still had breath in his lungs, he was yours. He still hadn't quite figured out how best to do that, but he was working on it, and he'd knew he'd think of something. He loved you too much to stop trying.

As for kids, well, Daryl was terrified of being a father. Always had been. It wasn't like he had a great role model to show him how it should be done. Throw in an apocalypse where every single second was a fight for survival and it seemed almost impossible to raise a family. But, more and more often, he found himself watching the fathers around him and thinking that, maybe, it wouldn't be so bad after all, not if you were the one he was doing it with. Look at Rick with Judith and Carl. And Hershel, who had become a father figure to almost all of them, it seemed, as well as his own daughters. He'd never seen parenting done right until he'd met the old veterinarian, and now, when he let his mind wander, he couldn't help but imagine you cradling a baby in your arms, his baby. So, maybe... Not now, not yet, but one day. Just, maybe...

Melt:

You knew Daryl well enough now to see the signs. He wasn't one to be overly open with his affection, to reveal how much you affected him just by being close, but it showed in the reddening of the tips of his ears where they peeked out from the dark waves of his hair, the slight softening of his features as the deep frown lines between his eyes shifted, became shallower, and the way he'd catch his bottom lip between his teeth, not gnawing on it like he did when he was anxious, but fighting against the grin that threatened to break free. So, you knew exactly what would make him melt, become putty in your hands, soft and pliant and warm, and he almost wished he could hate you for it if he didn't love you so damn much.

It was the drag of your nails over his skin, scritchy-scratching across his back, working out every itch and twinge that had plagued him as his sweat dried and prickled beneath his shirt. Or grazing down the length of his arm as you passed him by, just an acknowledgement that you were there, wanting him, needing him, just as much as he did you. Or working through the tangles of his mane, scraping against his scalp as you eased out the knots and snarls, until he had to bite his tongue in case he should actually start purring at the sensation.

It was the way you'd bury your face in the crook of his neck, your nose nestling in the little dip above his collarbone, and breathe him in, as if just his scent was enough to keep you going, keep you living and fighting for another day. The way he'd feel your lips move against the base of his throat as you whispered his name, and the dark bruises you sucked into his flesh, just low enough that the collar of his shirt would hide them away when morning came, a secret that he carried with him, giving him a reason to always make it home.

It was the wink you'd shoot him just before stepping into battle, whatever the risk might be, as if reassuring him. We got this. Clearing a building, taking on the enemy, surrounded by walkers... It didn't seem to matter what the threat was, you'd catch his eye right before launching into the action, and you'd wink so fast that anybody not paying attention might have missed it, one corner of your lips twitching in a smirk, and then you'd be gone, a whirlwind with your knives clutched in your hands, quick and light-footed and graceful. And he'd wish that he could just stand back and watch you, because you were a warrior, strong and magnificent, and he would never tire of the way you moved.

Yes, you knew exactly how to make Daryl Dixon melt, and you took every opportunity because he deserved it, that warm, fuzzy feeling that forced the stresses and strains from his mind, just for a little while. And, damn, it drove him crazy.

*****

Send me a letter from the fluff alphabet!

#fluff alphabet #twd #twd drabbles #the walking dead #the walking dead drabbles #daryl dixon #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl dixon x reader

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lihikainanea · 3 years

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I think we need to talk about an at home spa/self care day w Bill & Tiger.. Bill is overworked and sooo tired. He’s a bit pouty and tries his best to get some proper sleep in but it’s just not happening. So Tiger takes it upon her self to make a whole self care day for him. She kinda has to force him in at first bc he’s the kind of person to try to finish work w/o stopping. But no! Tiger’s determined. She has to steal Bill’s expensive skincare he never uses (I can see tiger wiping off his face mask and is just in awe of how glowy and pretty Bill is). But they’re also grooming nails, getting v tipsy, napping, watching a tv show they’ve put off way too long, baths, massages & ordering ridiculous amounts of food. -🐝

oh sweet emojbee, indeed LET’S TALK ABOUT THIS.

I will never forgive dudes for two complete atrocities committed against humanity: 1) their long eyelashes, and 2) their glowing skin. Seriously. These motherfuckers wash their face with a bar of hand soap on a rope and only do it like TWICE A WEEK and they fucking glow. Last month I bought a $360 La Mer serum (which I returned because it was bullshit) and it only made my skin look a little better.

Bill, in particular, has great skin. God I could have punched him back in September when he was promoting TDATT, with his glowing complexion and his rosy cheeks. Fuck you, asshole.

But yes, look, we’ve talked a little about some home pampering before. And one of the great things about attending all of these big events and red carpets and shit is the goodie bags. Tiger let it be known that she will like, NEVER walk a red carpet with him--it sounds awful--and that she won’t ever attend any huge press event or party. But she’s real happy to be waiting up for him back at the hotel wherever he is, dressed only in his shirt with carts full of room service, and all she wants is that goodie bag. She thinks celebrities are insane. One time, there was a Rolex in there--a legit Rolex, gifted to like 75 guests who could afford like 100 Rolex’s on their own.

To tiger, it’s madness.

But there’s also always a lot of beauty goodies in there. Coupons for Botox (tiger laughs until she cries), but also some real high end products. And Bill uses them sometimes; before red carpets it really is a primping event for him when his groomer comes in, but otherwise on the day to day he doesn’t do much.

But Bill always liked being touched--he especially loves it when tiger traces his features softly. And he’s been tired, he’s been overworked, maybe she’s visiting him on set somewhere--and she packed up a few things so they can just have a relaxed, self-care night at home. And she’s real glad she did, because the poor dude just looks awful--some dark bags under his deep-set eyes, his skin an ashen colour.

She tags along with him to set the next day, and sits in his makeup trailer with him. And that’s kind of when he mind is made up for tomorrow, which is his day off--because for two hours, tiger watches them paint shit all over his face. Just...pure gunk. Prosthetics everywhere.Heavy paint. This terrifying spray called Skin Guard. He’s layered with latex and glue and paint and aerosols and it just looks so uncomfortable--but you know, the end of the day is even worse. Because when they take it all off, they’re scrubbing and rubbing and by the end his skin is bright red and irritated, his eyes a little squinty, patches of a red rash going down his neck. Tiger has ideas.

So listen, the next morning, they both sleep in. Tiger finds the laundry room in the hotel and warms up their bathrobes, wrapping him in one as he starts to wake up. She gets him his coffee, for once, giving him all the gentle head scritchies while he drinks it. She pulls him into the shower to start--does he get shower head? He totally gets shower head--and she soaps him up, washes his hair for him, CONDITIONS IT (because how boys don’t know about conditioner, I’ll never know) and then when they’re done, as he steps out she helps him dry off with the towel--and then she moisturizes him. Bill never moisturizes. Butshe takes her time, helps rub out some of his sore muscles, and just massages in some of the best smelling lotion he’s ever known. She gets him back in his bathrobe and orders a breakfast feast, and she sets up her stash while they wait for it.

And it’s just a full day of pampering for Bill--and really, he’s letting it happen because it’s just so much of that good skin contact that he needs, and he’s complete mush. Tiger sets up with a bowl of warm water, a few rags. She pulls his head into her lap. She starts off with a real good head scritchie session that just seems endless, her nails scraping gently at his scalp, and only when he’s slack-jawed she’ll move onto his face--just take her time and run her fingertips all over his features, massage out some of the tension he keeps in his jaw and temples. She’ll wet the warm rag and drape it over his face, getting the cleanser ready.

And it takes hours, but it’s just so zen--for both of them. Bill gets all those soft touches that he needs. Tiger gets to revel in turning her Good Dude to absolute mush, being able to stare down and admit how beautiful he is like this, steal all the kisses she wants. She goes all in. Bill gets exfoliated, he gets a toner and an eye mask and a face mask another cleaner and a serum and a moisturizer. Tiger just takes her time with it, massages down his chest while she waits for the products to sink in. And by the end--god she could kill him--he’s glowing.

She pushes a glass of scotch in his hand, crawls in his lap, and he’s still all sleepy and slack-jawed and he just murmurs his thanks softly in her ear.

#bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard drabble #BFF!Bill #soft bill

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