Daryl would be a switch. One minute fucking you, the other being fucked by you. Looking up at you with lustful eyes, trusting you completely to be that vulnerable with you. Heâd be vocal. Wrapping his arms around you and burying his face into the crook of your neck as you fuck him. đ©
Also hello guys, Iâm back. Forgot about this blog! đ„
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Omg Iâm such a whore for Female Daryl and thought I was the only one đ€Ł being bisexual and all itâs the best of both worlds fr
So nsfwâŠbut a really intimate scissoring/tribbing sesh with her is just stuck on my mind after reading your smut piece đ„”
A scissoring sesh with her would be soo good..
Iâm currently making an nsfw alphabet for her, so I might include that somewhere.. đ maybe even write a little smut piece about that too.
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Making an nsfw alphabet of her later because apparently I am not alone with these thoughts... i think!
I imagine Daryl as a woman often. Female Daryl, save me, my body is ready for you! đ€ tiny fem daryl smutty writing below, probably terrible since I havenât written smut before but fuck it we ball
18+ MDNI.
Darylâs arms are wrapped around your thighs as she licks and sucks at your sensitive core, her nose bumping against your clit. Your hips buck against her which only fuels her lust for you. She âeatsâ with a new intensity, getting you closer and closer to the edge.
âCmon baby, let go for meâŠâ she whispers, breath hot against your pulsating hole, slightly pulling away and replacing her mouth with her fingers. She inserts one, feeling how you grip her tightly. She curls that finger and you moan, involuntarily trying to close your legs.
Daryl holds you open, sliding another finger. She scissors you open, the stretch feeling so good.
âSo wet and tight for me, love..â she begins to curl and thrust her fingers, making you moan and clench even more. Before you know it, youâre whining and cumming on her fingers. She pulls out and you whimper from the empty feeling. Daryl licks both of her fingers, savoring the delicious taste of your juices.
She then joins you on the bed, wrapping her arms around you. You bury your face into the crook of her neck, leaving soft little kisses.
âGotta clean ya up soon, okay?â She says and you nod slowly, continuing to peck her neck. She chuckles and rubs your back slowly for a while. You switch from pecks to tiny nibbles, making Daryl moan slightly.
âThere ya go, little vampire.â She holds your head against her neck, other hand resting on your hip. You werenât biting hard enough to draw blood, just giving tiny nips.
âThere ya goâŠâ
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Title: Roseđč
Summary: Reader Suffers from anxiety and struggles with a bad attack. Daryl comforts them.
Pairings: Daryl x Reader
Era: Prison
Word count: Approx 940 I wrote this on my iPad.
Warnings: extreme anxiety attack? Itâs supposed to be fluff but apparently itâs also angst.
This was my first ever one shot which I have re-written â I wrote this for Valentines Day.
--
You awoke to a crushing weight on your chest, panic surging as you struggled for breath. Another episode was upon you.
The cellâs darkness was absolute, save for a sliver of light that outlined the doorâs draped sheet. It was just enough to search for your blanketsâthe ones Daryl had gathered for you, knowing they eased your distress. Though not essential, heâd always find a way to bring one back, hiding it for you to discover later.
Desperately, you searched the cotâs emptiness for any sign of the comforting fabric.
But there was nothing, and time was slipping away.
Tears streamed down your face, each one scalding like molten rock. Your throat constricted, a vice tightening and choking off your breath. You screamed silently within.
Air. You needed air.
Swinging your legs out, you hauled yourself into a sitting position, hands bracing on your knees. You adopted the tripod stance Daryl had shown youâtripoding. Gasping, you tried to steady your breathing, passing out was not an option.
Inhale through your nose, count to four, exhale. Again, inhale, count to three but relief eluded you; none of the learned techniques were working.
You needed air.
The tingling in your hands spread, a fiery sensation engulfing your arms, neck, and face.
Reaching for the oil lamp you kept for emergencies, you overextended, expelling the last of your breath as the lamp crashed to the floor, shattering.
The noise was sure to draw attention, giving the council yet another reason to cast you out. You were already a burden; this was the last thing you needed.
Defeated, you collapsed back onto the bed, the cell spinning around you. Your body convulsed, each tremor a jolt of electricity coursing through you.
Then, his voice.
âY/N? Yâkay in there?!â
The Archer. Your archer. Best friend. Soul mate.
Sweat drenched you, blurring your vision, but his silhouette was unmistakable against the doorâs curtain.
A groan of panic escaped you, but it was enough. In an instant, Daryl was there, his arms enveloping you in a protective embrace.
âCâmere, itâs okay,â he murmured, his voice a deep, gravelly comfort. You clung to the resonance of his words, a cry of relief breaking free as you felt the tension begin to dissipate.
âThe blankets nâworking?â You shook your head vigorously, pressing it into the crook of his neck, seeking refuge in his sturdy embrace. The scent of smoke and musk from his skin enveloped you, a comforting aroma youâve always cherished.
âI canâtâfindââ Your words faltered, but he hushed you gently. The dizzying whirl of the room gave way to a soothing rocking motion, cradling you towards calmness.
âBreathe wâme. You can do this, just as I taught ya.â
Inhale through your nose, count to four, then exhale.
A sob escaped your lips, your throat raw and aching with each laboured breath. Darylâs rough yet tender hands glided over your arms, across your shoulders, and into your damp, dishevelled hair. His touch was a mirror to your disarray. As you looked up, Daryl brushed away the stray hairs from your face, tucking them behind your ears with a gentle precision, his gaze never leaving yours. His deep blue eyes held you captive, mesmerizing you, while the dim light cast shadows that accentuated the contours of his face.
More sobs wracked your body, and you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to stem the flow of tears. The imaginary shackles around your chest seemed to dissolve, allowing you to breathe freely once more. His method was effective.
âYouâre doinâit, girl, Iâm proud of ya,â he whispered, pressing a kiss to your clammy forehead, undeterred by the dampness. The kiss lingered, grounding you back to the present. When he pulled away, the absence of his warmth left your skin exposed to the chilly air, sealing the moisture from his lips onto your skin. This was a firstâa tender, romantic gesture from him. The blush that crept over his cheeks and ears was mirrored by your own shaky, yet genuine smile. You yearned to voice your gratitude to the archer, but all you could manage was to nestle your head against his chest once more, closing your eyes and syncing your breaths with his. Your hand rested on his side, anchoring you as the roomâs spin subsided.
Darylâs free hand began to trace letters on your back. Instead of pain, the path of his fingertip left a trail of goosebumps, pulling you back to reality.
H-A-P-P-Y V-A-L-E-N-T-I-N-E-S.
He released one arm from around your waist and reached into his shirt pocket, pausing as he spoke.
âI carved something for you.â Darylâs words were always sparse but laden with meaning. You were the only one privy to this side of him, a treasure you held dear. Each rare glimpse of his vulnerability was cherished, knowing the bravery it took for him to reveal himself.
Sitting up a bit more, you watched as Daryl retrieved a small object from his pocket, placing it in his palm and shifting it into the light for you to see. A gasp slipped through your lips, and you covered your mouth, a silent tear tracing your cheek at the sight of his gift.
An oak rose head, intricately carved.
âHappy Valentineâs Day,â he said softly.
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Palestine will be free in our lifetime đ”đžđđïž Don't look away, and let's keep supporting Palestine in any way we can.
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it just broke that israel has seized 1,977 acres of west bank land for settlement, which marks the largest land theft since 1993. west bank raids are also seeing an all-time high, with a reuters article stating a series of israeli raids raised the palestinian death toll in the west bank to 10. there are palestinians being abducted as well, a lot of whom are children. the west bank is slowly being eaten up by both israeli settlers and raids, but this is barely being covered by mainstream media.
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Using another name since I donât feel comfortable using my irl name on here!!
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I imagine Daryl as a woman often. Female Daryl, save me, my body is ready for you! đ€ tiny fem daryl smutty writing below, probably terrible since I havenât written smut before but fuck it we ball
18+ MDNI.
Darylâs arms are wrapped around your thighs as she licks and sucks at your sensitive core, her nose bumping against your clit. Your hips buck against her which only fuels her lust for you. She âeatsâ with a new intensity, getting you closer and closer to the edge.
âCmon baby, let go for meâŠâ she whispers, breath hot against your pulsating hole, slightly pulling away and replacing her mouth with her fingers. She inserts one, feeling how you grip her tightly. She curls that finger and you moan, involuntarily trying to close your legs.
Daryl holds you open, sliding another finger. She scissors you open, the stretch feeling so good.
âSo wet and tight for me, love..â she begins to curl and thrust her fingers, making you moan and clench even more. Before you know it, youâre whining and cumming on her fingers. She pulls out and you whimper from the empty feeling. Daryl licks both of her fingers, savoring the delicious taste of your juices.
She then joins you on the bed, wrapping her arms around you. You bury your face into the crook of her neck, leaving soft little kisses.
âGotta clean ya up soon, okay?â She says and you nod slowly, continuing to peck her neck. She chuckles and rubs your back slowly for a while. You switch from pecks to tiny nibbles, making Daryl moan slightly.
âThere ya go, little vampire.â She holds your head against her neck, other hand resting on your hip. You werenât biting hard enough to draw blood, just giving tiny nips.
âThere ya goâŠâ
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Daryl is just so like âŠ. bite-able. I wanna nibble on him like the vampire I am
My face buried in the crook of his neck as I nibble gently on the side of his neck â€ïžâ€ïž
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Hi! Could you write a Daryl x f.reader hc in the mornings? I feel like slow mornings would be Daryl's favorite time of day, just enjoying his partner without having to think about the day ahead..
P.S: how did you not start writing sooner?? I love how your pretty brain brings our delusions to life lol
Iâm gonna do the smaller requestâs first so that they donât pile up because having loads of requests makes me anxiousđ idk why but Iâm getting to em all!
Anon!!! I love this so much! I love domestic daddy Daryl so much like yes! Idc what anyone says, heâs sooooo husband! And alsooooo⊠TYSM! Iâm not really a writerđ I didnât intend to actually write on here but people started sending full on essays for me to write so why not. I did write some stuff on Wattpad though that I could post here??? If yâall want??? Anywayyyyyssss ily!
I always imagine these sorta things with you and Daryl in a secluded cabin, away from the community. Youâre still part of the group but you and Daryl prefer to be alone together.
Living away from the community, Daryl is like a different person, heâs way more relaxed and less on guard. Less irritated by people too.
The sunlight seeps through the cracks in the curtains in the early mornings.
Daryl usually wakes up first but if he doesnât then you shift closer, resting your chin on his bare chest and admiring his sleeping face.
His hair framing his relaxed face, he looks younger when heâs sleeping, your favourite part is how his rounded nose twitches when he starts to wake up.
As soon as he opens his eyes, you feel his chest vibrate as he hums, bringing his hand up to push a strand of hair behind your ear.
âWhatâd I tell ya âbout starinâ, Hm?â
His lips twitch upward, he fucking loves the mornings when itâs so peaceful and itâs just him and you, like the world doesnât really exist.
âI think you told me to quit itâ
He chuckles, rubbing his thumb across your forehead.
Daryl thinks youâre the most beautiful thing heâs ever seen, especially when your hair is messy from sleep and youâre in barely any clothes.
Thereâs no doubt that every morning, his mind drifts to thinking about staying in bed with you all day, worshipping your body and making you feel good.
And that fantasy is almost always thrown out the window when the both of you hear paws enter the room, dog jumping up on the bed, licking at Daryls face.
âDog! Jesus chri-⊠yeah, okay okay, good boyâ
After getting out of bed, Daryl pulling on just his jeans that sit low on his waist and you in a thin night dress, you both go to the kitchen area.
Daryl feeds dog so he stops whining and then heâll cook up something he hunted and serve it to you.
Youâre greatful for your hunterman, taking such good care of you.
Even after being together all these years, Daryl still gets shy, sitting opposite you whilst eating, barely able to make eye contact.
Some mornings, if it was hot enough, youâd go swim in the lake with dog whilst Daryl would watch over the both of you. Heâs not greatly fond of swimming in the lake since he wouldnât be able to protect you as well as he could from the side.
âCan we go to the lake?â You ask as Daryl takes your plates.
âYa wanna? Ainât so hot out today, darlinââ
âI wannaâ
Heâd roll his eyes, he could never say no to you.
Heâd sit on the bank next to the lake, watching you in just your panties and bra, swimming around in the water with dog.
After you get out youâd complain that itâs too cold and heâd bite his tongue, he did tell you so.
Heâd wrap you in a towel and leave you shivering whilst he towels dog off.
âShouldnâta let ya go in the damn water, yer gonâ get sickâ
Youâd pout as you shiver, Daryl wraps his arms round you, kissing the top of your hair.
âLetâs get ya inside, warm my girl upâ
You have a feeling you know what he means.
This isnât even really hcâs đ full on story Iâm sorry but I always get so carried away.
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Soo cute â€ïž
Hi!! I want to start of by saying that I love your writing!
So while watching twd I noticed that Daryl has more tattoos in the later seasons and can only guess that theyâre stick-and-poke and that he did them himself. Do you think you could write a fic where the reader(f) is in a relationship with Daryl and asks him to give her a tattoo (which she has none of btw)? I was thinking like a little arrow or something because she âwants to have something of him even when theyâre apartâ? And make it super fluffy and stuff?
Marked
18+ MDNI || Warnings: Needles, profanity, mostly just fluffy nice cool Daryl
Note: I am not encouraging you to give anyone or receive an at home tattoo via sewing needle or tattoo gun, but I have received my fair share of both and the descriptions in this story are just based off my vague memory of how it was done for me! It is definitely not a tattoo guide.
edited to add: tysm for the compliment ilysm <3
    "Did you always have that tattoo?" You wondered, tracing over the dark marking on his arm. The two of you were on one of your regular afternoon strolls through the woods when you decided to lay against a log and chat. The sunbeams filtered through the canopy above and littered little golden rays over his arms, highlighting the light hairs and texture of his skin. These moments were your favorite. Peaceful bliss in the natural world.
        Daryl shook his head.
    "Nah. Did it awhile back." He said.
    "How?"
    "Never had a stick-n-poke?" He asked.
    "Never had a tattoo, period. Let alone a prickle-poke." You shrugged.
    "It's stick-n-poke." He snickered silently. You glared.
    "Whatever. Can you give me one?" You asked.
    "A tattoo?"Â
    "Yeah. The stick-n-prickle kind." You joked.
    "Alright." He nodded. "Gotta get some supplies together for it."
----
    You watched as he carefully burned the little sewing needle and wrapped it in thread.Â
    "Why thread?" You asked.
    "Kinda helps hold the ink but mostly jus' for grip." He explained.
    He set up a tiny container on the side table of your bed with black liquid.
    "Is that ink?" You asked.
    "Mm-hmm." He nodded.
    "You made it?"
    "Uh-huh."
    "How?"
    "Soot. Alcohol. Water." He shrugged. "Ain't hard."
    "Cool." You whispered, fascinated by his expertise.Â
    "Wha'd'ya want?"
    "I was thinking about an arrow." You said. "A small one. Real simple." He raised an eyebrow. "For you, dummy."
    "I got that but.. Why?" He tilted his head a little.
    "'Cause. I wanna have something for you... Always. Even when we're apart." You said with a soft smile. He hid his face bashfully, not wanting to expose the little blush that was creeping over his features. Instead, he pretended to adjust the thread around the needle.
    "Where ya want it?" He asked when his flushed cheeks returned to their normal sunkissed glow.
    "Right here." You pointed to your ring finger, right where a ring would go.
    "Ya sure?"
    "Mm-hmm." You nodded surely. He wiped some alcohol over that spot to disinfect it.
    "Alright." He said. He delicately grabbed your finger and held it in place. "Y'ready?"
    "I've had worse than a little pin prick." You giggled. "I'm ready."
    Without another word, he got to work carefully poking the needle through your skin, freehanding a perfect line. You watched in awe, studying his look of concentration, the way he tilted his head to see though his hair, holding your finger up close to his face to make sure every detail was perfect. It only took about twenty minutes. You looked it over when he finished, holding your hand up the way someone does when they're admiring their engagement ring.
    "Wow." You grinned. "How did you make such a perfect line?"
    "Ain't perfect." He shrugged.
    "It is! I love it." You insisted. A half smile curled at the corner of his lips.
    "'M glad, 'cause it don't wash off." He joked. You rolled your eyes.
    "This is no laughing matter, Daryl. You just proposed to me, ya know." You said in mock seriousness.
    "What?" His eyes widened. Even under the tan skin, his face still drained of color.Â
    "Yeah," you pressed on. "This is my ring finger. Like, the ring finger. And you permanently marked it with something symbolic to yourself." You gloated.
    He blinked. He couldn't tell if you were joking or not.
    "Anyways, I'm gonna go talk to Carol about planning the wedding. I bet Rosita and Tara would be beautiful bridesmaids." You rambled. "Oh, and instead of cake, everyone gets a glass of moonshine!"
    "I don' think.."
    "I'm kidding, genius." You rolled your eyes. He relaxed a little. "Thanks though. I love it."
    He cleared his throat and stood up, cleaning his workspace so not to clutter your bedroom.
    "Oh, by the way.. This is the ring finger." You smirked. He stared at you for a moment before shaking his head.
    "Don't go showin' the whole damn world and tellin' 'em we're married." He grumbled.       Â
    "Would that be so bad?" You pouted. He smirked and planted a kiss on your forehead.
    "Nah. But I ain't proposin' with no damn stick-n-poke. Gon' find ya somethin' better than that."
    Your face lit up, practically brightening the entire room.
    "You're gonna propose?!" You bounced with joy.
    "Wha-- I didn't--"
    "Oh, my god! I have to tell Carol!!" You squealed as you darted out of the room. He stood there expressionless, processing what he had just done.
    "Shit." He mumbled. It wasn't that he wouldn't propose one of these days. He'd love to call you his forever. Otherwise, he never would have marked you with something that represented him in the first place. It was just.. That it would draw so much attention to him. He sighed. He guessed he walked right into that one.
---
    "When did you do this?" You asked him, holding up his ring finger that was now decorated with a little cloud shape.
    "Yesterday." He shrugged.
    "Is that a cloud?" You eyed it closer.
    "Mm-hmm."Â
    "For what?"
    "Dunno. Ya always stare up at the clouds when we take long drives." He explained. "Now we're both marked."
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My time of the months over ⊠gotta go back to fasting 4 Ramadan đđŒ
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i got a macbook â€ïž i can actually write stuff for u guys nowww ;3
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Daryl cuddles â€ïž
Once he gets more comfortable in the relationship to the point where he can be his most vulnerable self, heâs be a huge cuddle bug. Burying his face in the crook of your neck, in your chestâŠ
His embrace would be comforting and warm, maybe even holding your hand, doing that little thing with his thumb on the back of your hand.
Sometimes heâll allow you to baby him, to hold him, scratch his scalp, stroke his cheek. He loves it so much, just being comfortable and vulnerable in your arms. I feel like sometimes he would get overwhelmed with his love for you, having no way to let it out besides crying. He probably hasnât experienced much love from people, let alone romantically.
Sometimes even the most strongest, gruffest of people need to be loved and babied.
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The Storm Inside of You
Warnings: Angst, Anxiety, Panic attack - Absolutely no fluff at all. Well maybe a little bit.
In your dimly lit home, rain tapping insistently against the window, you crumbled completely. Your chest tightened, breaths shallow and ragged. The world outside was a relentless storm, mirroring your own storm inside of you. Anxiety clawed at your insides, tearing everything apart. You couldnât pinpoint the triggerâjust a cascade of emotions, overwhelming and inescapable.
Daryl, your rugged protector, stood there, his eyes tracing every tremor, every tear. His calloused hands reached out for you, pulling your frame into his warmth. âHey baby, whatâs going on?â heâd just returned home from an unsuccessful loot run to find you in this quivering state on the floor of your lounge, âIâŠ.do-nâtâŠ.knowâ your voice cracked barely able to form the sentence before bursting into uncontrollable sobbing again, his voice was gravelly, âainât nothinâ wrong with feelinâ this way â we all got our demonsâ.
Scooping you up off the floor, holding you in his strong muscular arms, he kicked his boots off and then sat back down onto your sofa, leaning back so you could nestle your head against his chest. You could hear his heartbeat, steady and sure thumping into your ear âSometimes the worldâs too damn heavy,â he continued, âand we gotta let it out.â His fingers brushed my hair, soothing, grounding, his free hand tracing gentle, and light patterns up and down your back.
You clung to him, fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt. His scentâleather, sweat, and pineâoffered solace. âDaryl,â you whispered, âIâŠcanâtâŠbreathe.â The walls closed in, and the weight of existence threatened to crush you.
He pressed his lips to your forehead, a silent promise. âListen,â he said, âweâll get through this. Together.â His thumb wiped away another one of your tears, âcopy mâbreathingâ you focussed in on his breathing, calmly, breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth, your head going a little dizzy with the lack of oxygen.
The rain outside softened, a lullaby against the roof. Daryl rocked you gently, cradling your fragile frame, trying to shield you from your pain, âAinât no shame in breakinâ a little sunshine,â he said. âHell, itâs what keeps us human.â
He whispered reassurances, pressed kisses to my temple, and held me until the storm subsided, Daryl was your anchor, always had been and always will be.
âYouâre not alone,â he murmured. âNever alone.â He whispered, his lips resting against the side of your head.
âI love you so much, donât ever forget thatâ.
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**NSFW themes below!!**
Just some little thoughts, nothing too explicit!!!!
Gif not mine
This is probably not a very popular opinion, but I donât think Darylâs very rough in bed. Iâd feel like heâd be very gentle, at least for the first times you guys do it. He wouldnât like the thought of too rough with you, he wouldnât want to hurt you when heâs supposed to be pleasing you. Most of the time heâd go at a slow-medium speed, maybe heâd only go fast if heâs upset about something or heâs too pent up.
And yeahhh norman has said heâd probably bite your neck and pull your hair, but I personally think thatâs about how far heâll go besides some nibbling in other places (not necessarily down there lol) Nothing beyond that, heâd be too afraid to hurt you.
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Father daryl thoughts â€ïž
If his kid ever has a nightmare, heâll let them sleep in the bed with him for the rest of the night. Heâd hold them close, stroke their hair, whispering words of reassurance. Heâd offer to listen to what the nightmare was about, but he wonât force them to tell him. He understands that it can be hard to explain dreams. Sometimes theyâre too confusing or too upsetting to speak about.
Or alternatively: heâd sit by the edge of their bed after hearing them cry for him, making sure theyâre okay. Heâd stay until they fall back asleep, tucking them in a bit more, placing a kiss upon their forehead before leaving.
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