#Daryl Dixon x Reader

[mydearestdaryl]

𝐦𝐚𝐦𝐚 ‧₊˚ ✧

Summary: you've loved Daryl's daughter since you met her, but becoming her mama is only recent. Warnings: TWD violence, blood & gore, character deaths, mildly explicit language, implications of sex (kinda), not really proof-read. Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Greene! reader (fluff, angst if you squint, kinda). Setting: Terminus. Credits to: @louifaith for the amazing plot idea, hope you like this! A/N: My first post so please be kind. I tried to keep Daryl's character but it was hard. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it, and I appreciate constructive criticism. ♡

It started on your dad's farm when Daryl got shot by Andrea. Heather, his daughter, was younger then, almost two years old, and to keep her from seeing her daddy in the state he arrived that day, you showed her your childhood dollhouse, playing with her until your dad let you know Daryl was better and resting in the guest room.

You went to visit him, baby in arms, and she immediately jumped into her daddy's arms when she saw him. He invited you to stay a little that night, not even knowing why he did that. You became Heather's (and Daryl's) favorite person since then, and when her daddy was gone she pretty much demanded to be babysat by you and only you.

Then you lost the farm and spent months on the road. Heather became more and more attached to you during this time, who would try to keep her positive and happy by telling her you were all looking for a treasure together. She believed you when you found the prison, where you helped her decorate her and Carl's cell with colored chalks you found.

One day you came back from a run with Glenn and Rick, happy and smiley as you handed Heather the coloring book and crayons you found for her. Glenn told Daryl that the gift almost cost you your life that day.

Too focused on the girl, you missed Daryl's adoring eyes when he looked at you or how he was so protective of you. How he always made sure you and Heather were fed and safe, the subtle blush on his cheeks when you complimented him, or how his eyes never left you if you weren't next to each other.

"I didn't even know 'er," Daryl started. You were sitting next to him on a bench outside the prison watching the sunset as Heather sat on your lap, fighting a nap as she played with the buttons of your shirt. "Her mom," he added, stroking his daughter's downy cheek softly.

Your eyes met his stormy ones, and after staring at each other shortly, he looked away, suddenly interested in the fences.

"Me and Merle had been holed up in our trailer as usual, him bitchin' about how I never wanted to go out no more. Jus' to shut him up, I agreed to hit the bar with him one night," he explained, nervously chewing on his bottom lip.

He didn't even know why he was opening up to you. But there was something about you—something beautiful. His daughter was a shy little girl with most, but she seemed right at home with you, bubbly and happy in your arms.

And his father was no different. His walls came down in your presence, even if he tried to avoid or deny it. And there was something between you and the hunter, everybody knew. Everybody saw it but you two. Idiots.

He believed you only liked him because he was Heather's dad, and because he provided for the group. There could be no other reason. And you believed firmly he was only grateful that you took care of Heather, so he was your friend in return.

"I knew it was a mistake as soon as we walked in. Place was too damn loud, too many people. But Merle shoved a beer in my hand, said I needed to "loosen up." So I started drinkin'," now the nap had won over Heather and she was peacefully resting on your chest. "Merle kept passing me drinks, an' I got real drunk."

"Next thing I know, Merle's leadin' me outside, sayin' he's got a 'surprise.' Turns out the damn fool hired some lady, had her waitin' round back. I told him no way but he kept calling names, tellin' me I wasn't a man…" Daryl talked and lowered his volume as he stared at the girl in your arms, eyes always softer when he looked at her. "Woke up in the mornin' feelin' lower than shit."

"'Bout nine months later there's a knock at the door. This girl's standin' there with a pink blanket inside was the tiniest baby I ever saw. Pink lil' face scrunched up, fists balled at her sides. Couldn't believe somethin' so fragile was spawned from my sorry ass," he chuckled, but it was almost pained.

You wanted to speak, to tell him he was an amazing man, but you knew that right now he needed just you to listen.

"The woman told me if I didn't keep her she was gon' throw her in sum dumpster. I wasn't sure she was mine but I didn't care then," he added, eyes finally making contact with yours again, slightly squinted but as if he was about to tell a joke. "Then she grew into her face and…"

"She's your twin," you giggled and he nodded, his gaze finding his shoes. If only you knew what the sound of your laugh did to him. "How did you choose her name?"

He chuckled again, meeting your gaze again, "she didn' have a name for a month," he explained with a smile. "Then ma uncle said she needed one, and I called her all the girl names I could think of until she smiled at one."

"She named herself," you said with a breathy laugh, placing a kiss on the head of the adorable girl holding you while she slept and his eyes while looking at you were this close to turning into hearts.

The memories seemed too distant now.

The second prison attack seemed like a blur. One moment Hershel was dead, and then Daryl was ordering you to get Heather and leave. Now you both were camping in a makeshift tent five days later, the almost-three-year-old blissfully unaware of the stressful situation, for all she knew, you two were on a little vacation. A girls' trip.

Maybe keeping the girl in such a state of ignorance was foolish, knowing the chances of never seeing her dad again were high, but she was a toddler, a baby, and you'd keep her unaware and happy as long as you possibly could.

Sleep claimed you at some moment of the late night, much to your dismay, since you had been trying to keep watch every night.

"Mama, mama, maaaama," Heather called you in a sweet, sing-songy voice as she cradled your face with her tiny hands, shaking your face gently. You opened your eyes quickly, instantly searching for dangers, but there was none nearby. It was now morning, though.

Then you realized what she called you, and your heart skipped a bit. She considered you her mom.

"Hey baby," you softly cooed.

"When we gonna eat?" Heather spoke letting go of your face to play with the her bunny plushie. A gift by Daryl last winter.

"Oh, you're hungry? We still got an apple left, let me slice it for you," you said, moving her off you to go get the apple and knife from your bag, and beginning to slice it. A grumble was heard from your stomach, reminding you that you hadn't eaten in 3 days. All the food was for Heather now since it was getting harder to find it.

"Mama hungry," Heather giggled as she took the napkin with the apple slices and started munching on it. You hummed, not wanting to deny or confirm it as you sat next to her. Heather handed you a slice, and even though you wanted her to remain fed, you figured you'd find more food today and took the slice from her hand, eating it slowly to make it last.

Yes, you knew it didn't work like that.

"You know what we're doing today?" You started as you got the baby wipes you found in the last drugstore you came by, cleaning her face and hands. Oh, how you missed showers.

Her cute face lit up with excitement, she had already complained of being bored in the trailer. "We're going on an expedition today!" you explained, eyeing the stain on Heather's shirt she had been wearing for the past couple of days. "We're gonna find food, and maybe new clothes, perhaps a toy, how does that sound?"

"I'm not busy," Heather replied casually, making you laugh, "and we gonna find daddy!" she added with a gasp, beaming excitedly. Your heart dropped, but you didn't let it show, simply faking your best smile.

"Oh, but we're on a girls' trip, honey, daddy will have to wait a little longer."

Heather nodded and you got your bag ready, although it was almost empty. You got your quiver on and held your bow with your right hand, Heather holding the other hand. "Now, remember the rules? If I say yellow…"

"I hide, close my eyes, and be quiet," Heather said, skipping as she walked next to you, "and if you say red we run," she added, looking all adorably serious.

"Perfect," you praised her. "We're also looking for a new place to sleep, would you like that?" She nodded, crouching down to pick up a rock she found pretty.

In the trunk of a car of a man who opted out with a headshot, which Heather was thankfully too short to notice, you were lucky enough to find two bags of chips on the verge of expiring, but still good,along with a bottle of water—it was hot but it was good too. The girl happily helped you put the stuff in your bag before you both, quietly continued your journey in search of somewhere to camp.

On your way, you found a sign with a map. Some place called Terminus seemed to offer shelter for anyone, it claimed to be a sanctuary.

It seemed too good to be true, but it was also too dangerous to stay out here with Heather another night, so you decided to give it a shot.

You walked almost all day, holding Heather when she was too tired, and boy, was she getting heavier, but at last, you found Terminus that night. There, the people seemed kind and attentive, perhaps too much so. Obsessed, almost. Mentioning how rare it was to see a little kid lately, and going on and on about how sweet kids are.

Your gut was telling you to run, to take Heather far from this place, so kindly declining the food they were offering, you took your girl in your arms and told them you still had to find her father, as an excuse.

This infuriated these weird people, making them point their guns at you and the sleeping child in your arms as they threatened you to try and move. Your heart was beating fast you thought Heather would be able to feel it. You begged them to let you go, holding your kid as tight as you could as she stirred away so she wouldn't see what was happening.

"Oh, don't worry, we'll keep you together. Kids and women taste good together," she whispered in your ear as she dragged you to a sort of shipping container, locking you and Heather in there, taking your weapons and bags away.

Silently allowing yourself to cry, you told Heather you were in a cave and you'd be safe here until tomorrow. Rocking her back to sleep.

You got no sleep at night, expecting these cannibals to show up, ready to put up a fight. The kid woke up when you assumed morning came since it was dark inside this place.

To keep Heather from being afraid, you played with her to guess the number, letter, or word you spelled on her back with your fingers, thankfully earning a bunch of laughs from her. But all too soon, one of the men who welcomed you suddenly opened the door ordering both to come with him, dragging you when you begged him to let you go.

He took you to a room with tables that had all kinds of stuff, from toys to jewelry, to clothes and shoes. They were belongings of other people.

The man's voice interrupted your thoughts. "First, take your earrings, necklace, and shoes off, and put them where they belong," he instructed. "The kid can put the toy over there," he pointed at the pile of plushies and toys. Your heart ached for the kids that you assumed died here.

"Mama?" Heather spoke to you, hugging your leg. "Why mama?" You could tell she was getting scared, and you didn't know how to turn this into a game or a story, and only a nervous stammer left your lips.

"I'll come back to let you know when you can take your clothes off," the man said, eyeing you in a way that made you want to poke his eyes out. "Try anything funny and I'll make you watch as we eat her," he whispered in your ear, almost making you gag from the way his hot, stinky breath hit your neck. You gulped, staring dagger at him as he laughed and left through the back door. "I'll be right outside," he said all too cheery.

You felt grossed out. The only difference between these people and walkers was that they were alive and aware, and that thought alone made you feel more uneasy.

"Daddy!" Heather squealed happily, making you turn your head so fast, but you only found her reaching for the crossbow on the table that had weapons. How did you miss it? It was Daryl's crossbow, no doubt. With the little stick figures that Heather drew on one side. "Mama, Daddy's here!"

"Yeah," you said almost breathlessly as you grabbed the weapon. "He is," you said, still processing the new information.

"Let's go get him!" Heather declared, but a loud explosion made both of you jump, Heather let out a little scream, hugging you again before she started crying. You held her as you slowly approached the door to hear the commotion outside, hearing the guys that were outside the door rush away.

You opened the door, seeing nothing but chaos outside.

You closed it again, setting Heather down and kneeling to talk to her. "Okay, baby, right now we're going to get away, okay? We're going to run. It's red, got it, honey?" you tried to say as calmly as you could. Between subsiding tears, she nodded, saying okay in a whisper.

"I trust you, mama," she said holding you tightly.

After a few seconds, you rushed to grab your bow and arrows, as well as Daryl's crossbow, slinging both on your shoulder before grabbing a machete there was on the table. You held Heather and told her to hold onto you no matter what, hiding her face on your neck so she wouldn't have to see anything.

Everything felt in slow motion when you stepped outside, stabbing in the head the walkers you came across, and trying to find a way out without being bitten. Though a gap in the fence you managed to get Heather through, and you carefully climbed over it.

You walked for about ten minutes until you heard voices. Daryl's voice among them. "Heather and (Y/N)?" he asked. You set Heather down as the two of you approached them, her tiny hand in yours.

"Yeah! I saw them, I thought they were behind us. I called them. They probably didn't hear me!" Carl explained, a hint of stress and sadness in his voice.

"They gotta be still there, I'm goin' back for 'em," Daryl announced.

"You're probably gonna need this!" Heather repeated what you told her to say, as you held the crossbow in your hand. All eyes turned to look at you immediately. There were some new faces, but you were focused on Daryl.

His teary eyes made contact with yours, his breathing was heavy, and his lip trembled. You stared at each other for a minute until his gaze dropped to Heather and he finally broke down. Heather and you ran to him, he and you kneeling for a family hug. "Daddy!" Heather called happily, eyes closed from the big smile she wore.

You were finally home—the three of you were. His arms protectively around his two girls as Heather beamed peppering his father's and mother's face with sweet kisses, drying your tears too. She didn't understand why you cried when she was so happy, but she didn't question it.

Impulsively, he held your face softly with his free hand and his lips met yours. It was a peck, quick so he could pull away before you reacted in case it wasn't a welcomed action. But you grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him in again, pouring all the emotion both had been too blind to notice before into the kiss. You only pulled away when you heard Heather giggle next to you.

Taking a proper look at her daddy now up close, she gasped, looking at his blackeye. "Mama, Daddy got a owie," she pouted, "mama gonna make it better," she told her father, placing a hand on his shoulder in utter seriousness.

"I'm sure mama will," Daryl hugged his daughter, meeting your gaze again, but this time his eyes were softer, adoring, and loving, and yours were just the same. Heather nodded before his dad tickled her with his beard, making her laugh loudly, which made the rest of the group smile as well.

Maybe things weren't perfect yet. Life was not perfect. But this moment absolutely was.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon headcanons #dad!daryl

[celtic-crossbow]

gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams

Daryl, helping Y/N home after a little too much to drink at the party: You're gonna regret all this tomorrow.

Y/N, slurring and stumbling: Take me to Rosita's house.

Daryl, confused: How come?

Y/N: Cause Daryl's home, he doesn't like parties.

Y/N, before Daryl can correct her: And if I see him right now, I'm gonna ask to use his face as a chair.

Daryl, turning several shades of red: ...

Daryl: Rosita's, it is then.

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon incorrect quotes #daryl incorrect quotes #original quote #twd incorrect quotes #the walking dead incorrect quotes #daryl dixon humor #daryl humor #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl x female reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon the walking dead

[arrowenchantress]

Y/n: The human body is 60% water. So we are basically just cucumbers with anxiety.

Daryl: Nah, with the amount of salt and alcohol that I consume, I’m more like an anxiety pickle.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead incorrect quotes #the walking dead

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

"You're going to have to take your shirt off so I can see properly," you said, pulling a pair of gloves on.

"Huh? Nah. S'fine. Just the stitches on my hand is all."

"Daryl..." you said sternly. "I can see the blood soaking the back of your shirt. Please let me look."

"'M sure it's nothin'!"

You sighed and crossed your arms. "I've already seen all your scars, so it can't be that. You still just have a hard time letting people care for you?"

He chewed on his bottom lip nervously for a moment and then nodded. "I guess."

"Well, tough shit," you said, stepping closer to him again. "If you won't take the shirt off so I can at least have a look, I will rip it off you."

He looked stunned for a moment and then vaguely amused. "Yer a pain in my ass, ya know that?"

"I'm a doctor."

"Yer a damn menace!"

"I can be both..." You cocked your head. "So, are you undressing yourself or do I need to—"

"Fine! Damn..." Daryl growled, but you could see a spark in his blue eyes and he couldn't quite hide his smile.

Prompt: "I'm a doctor." / "You're a menace." / "I can be both."

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles

[starshipsofstarlord]

lap girl (3)

summary. there’s no better position for daryl than when his girl is in his lap 😉🥵

warnings. smut, unprotected sex, handjob, cursing, fluff

MINORS DNI (18+), I DO NOT CONTROL YOUR CONSUMPTION ON THIS BLOG 👻

divider credits. @cafekitsune

prison

Her hips jolted in adjustment atop of his own, driving his cock deeper within the depths of her arousal glazed cervix, pulling a long drawn moan out from Daryl’s parted lips, as his eyelids fluttered in an abyss of euphoric peace. It was all he needed, to be within her, to feel her perfectly close, and he hadn’t needed to drive a hard bargain to have her crawling wantonly on his lap. Y/n’s fingers wove in his hair that had grown since the survivors of Woodbury had amounted to the numbers of the prison, relieving the stress that Daryl felt to provide for the increased population.

She was stressed too, working her ass off as she watched Rick potter about in his little farm, almost oblivious to the subsequent efforts the rest of them strived through to salvage supplies - he needed a rest though after everything, and this was y/n and Daryl’s own substitute of that. Their lips messily moulded together, drinking up the others escaping sounds, neither of them wanted to attract any peepers to their intimacy which was hard to come by with the afflicting chores that had to be completed.

“Ya feel so good girl.” At the sound of his gruff voice, y/n mewled lightly, burying her rolling-eyed face in his shoulder, as she wiggled insistingly against his lazy thrusts. It was midday, however despite that they were fuelled with the weakness of exhaustion, using the last of the energy that they had reserved for one another. “Thatta girl.” Daryl placed his large and rough hands on her hips, moving her in unison with his sloppy thrusts that somehow managed to hit the perfect spot even with his tired exterior.

“Dar-“ a yelp stifled in her throat as she clasped a hand over her mouth to block it from reaching any passing ears, as she chose to bite lightly on his still clothed shoulder, scratching lightly at his leather vest in sexual distress; her peak was coming closer and closer with each passing second, and so Daryl leaned back against the wall in their cell that was their escape from everything outside, and brushed his tingling fingertips against her angelic face. “I love you.” Her confession that had been spoken many times before came out as a whisper, as his heavy lidded eyes met her watery orbs.

“Love ya more sunshine.” Daryl muttered, his breath hitting her lips as he raised his hips so that it was easier to increase the pace in which his cock was moving inside of her, his head resting against the grey bricks that supported his position. “Gonna have ta pull outta ya soon.” He reminded her, watching y/n screw her face up at the concept, however it was the safest option considering Glenn and Maggie had used up the supply in the stores that were nearby to their location. “Ya gonna cum first girl, don’ ya worry.”

To emphasise his point, he reached his hand down so that the pad of his thumb was swirling disoriented circles around her clit, and y/n all but launched herself at him as she passionately joined their lips again, muffled moans spilling out occasionally for their lack of required air. “Fuck- I’m, I’m gonna-“ She had no time to finish her sentence as she threw her head back as a reaction from the rush that flowed intensely throughout her body, and Daryl leaned tentatively forward, chasing her lips, as he lifted her a little so he could pull out from her sweet cunt.

As soon as he did so, y/n in her fucked out haze grabbed his erection that was covered in her essence in her hand, stroking him at a desperate pace, biting his lip to catch the tracker off guard. “Shit.” Daryl closed his lustful blue eyes as his face became slack, all of the sensations that he was experiencing driving him wild. It wasn’t long before he came, spilling his seed across the expanse of y/n’s naked thigh, and he could finally catch his breath. “Ya jus’ can’t get ‘nough, I swear.” There was a dopey smile on his face, one that he reserved solely for his girl, and he caressed the back of her neck, before pulling her closer, until she was once again on his lap.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon fic #twd smut #norman reedus x reader #norman reedus smut #twd x reader #twd x you #twd imagine

[d-dixonimagines]

PROMPT: "Thought you'd be taller.."

I feel like I want to do this one again with a different approach, but I don't know. I envisioned it being something light-hearted and fun, so please excuse my attempt at being funny...! @darylsdelts A/N: It's not edited so there's probably typos

There was a weird buzz of energy going around the camp that you couldn't quite place. The way people whispered to one another excitedly like gossiping teenagers. Eventually you got wind that Daryl Dixon was supposed to be arriving. It was overheard on the radio when your group leader was communicating with Aaron, arranging some kind of supply drop. They had been talking for months and were finally closing on a deal to join forces and create connections.

Sure, you had heard Daryl's name before, but it was strange to see people act like it was some celebrity coming through their town, a behavior you thought was long dead when everything fell. He had been the talk for days, apparently. People telling stories about all the things they've heard he's done, even some you were sure couldn't possibly be true, like blowing up a group with a bazooka? It sounded ridiculous.

He had managed to gain a sort of reputation. He was the lone wolf you didn't mess with. People have said that he mostly kept to himself, some describing him as a grumpy old bear, and good luck if you ever got on his bad side.

You've heard he was mean and intimidating and had a permanent glare, but others say he is kind and had a softness to him. That he had a type of charm that was hard to explain. But it was all the same as rumors go; you didn't know what you were supposed to believe.

He had come to the camp a few times, but somehow you've never seen or met him yourself. It was like he was a myth. A story someone made up, and depending on which version you heard, he was either a scary boogeyman or some kind of hero.

None of that mattered, though. You were determined to find out for yourself who this Daryl guy really was, and if he was worth all of the commotion he seemed to cause.

The sun was just about to set when he and Aaron finally arrived. They were greeted with welcoming smiles and were invited to join you all for dinner. You were appreciative of the large cart of food and supplies they brought, but so far you weren't seeing anything too spectacular. He was quiet, mostly. Handing over crates and stuff, no particular look about him. He didn't look scary, there was no scowl-y expression. So many not a grumpy bear?

As the evening went on and everyone was settled, scattered about around the fire, you sat silently - continuing to watch him. When it was mostly just the two of you remaining, you decided that the silent stalking was getting you nowhere, so you took things to the next level; you approached him..

"Would you like some more?" You offered, extending the kettle of food you had in your hand. He looked up at you for a second before shaking his head, "Nah, I'm good.. Thanks." His voice was gruff, but there was a softness to it, it didn't make sense!

"I'll have some more." Your attention was brought to Larson, a guy from your group, who was sitting close by with his plate stretched out, a friendly smile on his face. Without saying a word, you took a step towards him and practically tossed the kettle in his lap, taking a seat next to Daryl, your back towards Larson.

There was a silence again, aside from the confused mumblings from Larson as he dished himself more food. You tried not to make it so obvious that you were eyeing Daryl, trying to glance at the fire every now and then, but you were failing quite miserably.

"Can I help ya with somethin'?" Daryl finally confronted you. When you didn't respond he continued. "You've been starin' me down since I got here and it's startin' to weird me out..."

You straightened up a bit and put your hands up briefly, an attempt to express you didn't mean anything by it. "I'm sorry. I'm just... trying to figure you out." "Whats'ta figure out, exactly?" he remained calm, but you could tell he had a guard up. Which was understandable.

You have a quick shrug as you tried to gather your thoughts. "The way people talk about you, you're at all what I expected." He gave a sight grunt, like where this was going all clicked. "Should I even ask what you were expectin'?" "Thought you'd be taller.." Your response surprised him a bit, causing him to let out a chuckle. Your shoulders relaxed at his reaction. He definitely wasn't a boogeyman type.

"There were a lotta things you could'a said, but I wasn't expectin' that one," he shook his head a bit and set his dish down by his feet. You could understand where he thought you were going, so many mixed reactions to him, but you were feeling more inclined to believe the positive ones, based on your current encounter with him.

"There was a lot of buzz around here when people learned you were visiting. They talk about you like you're some kind of celebrity. Which, I guess in some sense, you kind of are. With all the stuff you've done, you've made quite a name for yourself."

"Pshh.." he scoffed, "I don't buy into all that. People's opinions don't mean shit." "Even if it's good? People look up to you, from what I gather." He shook his head again. "It's all bullshit. They don't know me or the shit I've done." "We've all done things. Larson here?" you pointed your finger over your shoulder, Daryl's eyes following the direction, "the worst thing he's probably done is kill a rabbit, and that's saying something when it comes to him, and while he's probably not the best example, we all still know he's a good person."

Larson looked up from his plate, his gaze going back and forth between you and Daryl. "It was an accident..." Larson defended himself, a silent look of panic etched on his face. "The rabbit, I didn't see it, it was in the -" "You don't have to explain, Larson, it's OK. No one blames you." You cut him off before looking back at Daryl. "...Why would they blame me..?" "It was a whole thing.. but that's not the point. I'm just saying, the stuff you do makes a difference to people. The good stuff, I mean."

Daryl looked confused for a second, trying to figure out Larson's deal, but brought his attention back to you. "I dunno about any of that. I ain't tryin' to be anythin', I'm just doin' what anybody else would." You nodded, planning on keeping things at that, but there was one thing you couldn't get out of your head and needed answers on.

"I just have one question," you opened. He seemed almost reluctant to agree, but he did with a nod. "Is it true you shot a bazooka at some group? Some people say there was a group of like fifty highwaymen and you just blew them all up." He looked at you for a second like you were insane and let out a sigh. "There weren't fifty of 'em, there was only about eight.." "But you blasted them with a bazooka?" "Yeah?" he responded like he didn't understand what the big deal was. "They were a bunch'a assholes, they had it comin'."

"No, I completely get it," you let out a small laugh. "It's just a crazy thing to think about, you know? A bazooka! Where the hell would you even get one of those?" "Military truck," both Daryl and Larson answered at the same time, causing you both to look at him. "Sorry, I keep forgetting you're there." You almost felt bad. "Anyway, I should get going. It was cool to meet you," you turned back to Daryl and stood up, talking some of the empty dishes. Daryl gave a nod as you walked off.

"... The rabbit incident really was an accident," Larson chimed in after a moment of silence; he was leaning towards Daryl like he was trying to keep it between the two of them. "It was in the -" "Let it go, Larson!" Two other people in the group shouted at the same time. Larson slammed his plate on his lap in frustration as he was interrupted once more and he straightened up. Daryl sat there awkwardly in silence for a moment before getting up himself. He walked passed Larson and gave a quick sympathetic pat on his shoulder. "It's alright, buddy. I believe ya.." Daryl let out an amused scoff as he walked away to find Aaron.

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #d-dixonimagines #daryl dixon imagines #daryl dixon x reader #norman reedus

[intoxicated-chan]

𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐃𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧 𝐰/ 𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐆𝐚𝐠𝐚 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬

Summary ➳ Daryl is so Lady Gaga coded, her songs fit him so well. (I might expand more on this and I would love to see your guys interpretations!!)

(A/n) ➳ There is going to be a Assassin’s Creed Rogue content here and on my AO3!! I ain’t publishing any series until I finish JUDAS, that I can promise you guys. I also wasn’t sure if this isn’t a one-shot…

Word Count ➳ 500

Content Warnings ➳ Gender Neutral Reader/No use of (Y/n), EACH ARE SEPARATE SITUATIONS, Sexual content, oral (M), pervert Daryl, FWB Relationship/Toxic Relationship, consensual recording/photo taking, emotional affair, angst, mentions of death…

BAD ROMANCE

Early seasons, Daryl refuses to communicate, he fears relationships. It’s during an apocalypse, you can’t be hoping onto false hope and you’re gonna have to face that your loved one(s), will die. There’s no if ands or buts.

But Daryl can’t notice (refuses to) how much you love him. You don’t care what’s going on in the world, you want his cold heart, his love.

Or as Lady Gaga said. “I want your love. I want your revenge. You and me could write a bad romance.”

ALEJANDRO

Before the outbreak, you’ve had numerous of bad lovers in your past, and in the end, you always found yourself in the arms and bed of your best friend, Daryl Dixon. He was always up for the chance to get back at your exes and he enjoyed it.

Especially when he got the chance to record you taking his cock, of course he’d never share them without your consent. He’s happy that he’s the only one who gets to do it.

But Daryl catching feelings for you was something you didn’t expect and it made you realize that you didn’t want him as he wanted you. You tried to explain that it wasn’t going to work and when you tried to put some distance between you and him, he was having none of it. He wasn’t going to let you go so easily.

Or as Lady Gaga said. “And I know that you may love me but I just can’t be with you like this anymore.”

JUDAS

I know I’m already writing about JUDAS but hear me out!! You had a relationship with Daryl. You left and found someone better, you thought your life was finally on track until your ex appeared again and your feelings resurfaced. Daryl made it clear to your significant other who he was and you tried to remain strong for them but you couldn’t.

It was true that you still loved the man who betrayed you many times. You hated his grin, his hair, his eyes, everything about him angered you. But you couldn’t understand why Daryl had you wrapped around his finger.

Or as Lady Gaga said! “I wanna love you but something’s pulling me away from you. Jesus is my virtue and Judas is the demon I cling to!”

PAPARAZZI

One thing Daryl enjoyed was a cigarette. Don’t matter when and where. He could be hanging around you and he’d light one up, taking a blow job from you, after sex, during sex. Name a time and place and he’s most likely done already.

And then when he was gifted a camera, he immediately knew how to use it, catching you in all sorts of poses. You smoking his cigarette, taking his cock, a clear photo of your chest and ass. The two of you have photos of each other and when he was able to find a working recorder, you know he enjoyed filming you.

Or as Lady Gaga Said. “Need that picture of you, it’s so magical.”

© Intoxicated-Chan 2024, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission.

Taglist ➳ @celtic-crossbow , @mrdixon , @itwasntaphasema , @duffmckagansbandana , @raspberryslxt , @gamingfeline , @lor-geeked , @thegeorgiahuntsman , @snailss , @the-lonely-abyss , @number1bashbabe , @xmaeyonaiise , @suniloli , @ladylincoln , @of-storms-and-sadness , @annhells , @TWDgal , @yoowhatthefuck , @mylifeinthetardisforever , @let-love-bleeds-red , @virginsexgod69 , @scudslut , @theesexystallion , @yondus-girl , @raoudixs , @sleep-queen ,

#x reader #x gender neutral reader #fluff #the walking dead x you #twd daryl #twd x reader #twd x y/n #twd x you #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl x you #daryl x reader #daryl x female reader #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon smut #twd daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixion smut #daryl dixion imagine #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x you #daryl smut #twd smut #the walking dead x y/n #the walking dead smut

[dixons-sunshine]

Soooo headcannons would be absolutely amazing (tbh i'm obsessed with this story-)

Only if your up for it of course, just letting you know that I am interested (and I'm sure i'm not alone) bc you asked :)

Thank you for writing! Your work is amazing!

(I've also lost many drafts that didn't save and it's always so so sad)

Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU Headcannons |Young!Daryl Dixon x Young!Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine*

Word count: 840.

A/n: Ask and you shall receive! I have so many personal headcannons and I'm so excited to share it with you all. Maybe I'll incorporate some of these into oneshots one day. Who knows? But I'm really in the mood for Young!Daryl these days, so send in some requests for him if y'all wanna see more!

As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests, as well as Scud Frohmeyer requests.

—

★ Your ages aren't specified, but I headcannon that y'all are 17-almost 18 in this au.

★ As mentioned in Through The Good Times And The Bad, you moved to the trailer park when you were twelve. However, Daryl definitely didn't approach you first. You had to go up to him and start talking to him.

★ You were exploring the woods behind the trailer park when you stumbled upon a river. There you met Daryl, and since he was the only kid there who was your age, you wanted to strike up a friendship, although it was difficult.

★ I also feel like Daryl definitely didn't talk during the first few weeks when you went up to him. With Merle and his father constantly ruining his self-esteem, he was sure that you would recognise what a screw up he was and head for the hills.

★ However, when a month passed with you showing up at the river and keeping him company, he found himself looking forward to seeing you, and with that knowledge, he slowly started warming up to you.

★ The first time he ever spoke a word to you was when you accidentally slipped on a wet rock and fell into the river. He snorted a laugh at your predicament, and couldn't resist the urge to tease you.

★ “Careful. Heard the rocks in the river ain't exactly dry.”

★ You had laughed at him and splashed some water at him, and that was the start of your friendship.

★ Although you quickly became close friends, it took almost two years for him to start opening up about his father.

★ His father's beatings had started to become way worse and he started leaving more visible marks, resulting in questioning glances from you, though you never pressed for answers. That made him feel comfortable enough to gradually start opening up to you.

★ By the time you were both 15, you knew all about his father, Daryl's past with his mother committing suicide and his asshole of a brother.

★ This is definitely the "she fell first, he fell harder" trope.

★ You had started crushing on him when you were 14. However, Daryl only started acknowledging his own feelings for you when he was 16 and you had saved up to get him a gift for his birthday.

★ His feelings had smacked him right in the face, and the rest is history.

★ Moving away from you and Daryl for now, it's pretty clear that your mom is yours and Daryl's number one shipper.

★ She knows about Daryl's abuse, but not to the extent that you do. She only knows the "basics", so to speak.

★ She's offered to talk to social services for him, but Daryl had refused, so she offered for him to stay over whenever he needed to.

★ She totally already sees Daryl as her son-in-law. She knows for a fact that you and Daryl are meant to be together, even if you're only teenagers.

★ This might only be me, but I headcannon that your mom in this was a teen mom—she got pregnant during her senior year in highschool.

★ She's implied to be a single mom, so the dad split when he found out she was pregnant.

★ She lived with her parents to raise you until you were 6. Her parents eventually kicked the two of you out and you've been in and out of multiple crappy apartments before settling on the trailer park.

★ She's the type of mom who tries to give you the freedom you desire while still being strict. Hence the "if anything happens, be sure to use protection" jokes. She knows she can't stop you from doing that, but she can ensure that you don't make her mistakes.

★ She definitely "secretly" buys condoms for you and Daryl.

★ During the first few months of your relationship, she noticed that the box remained untouched. Knowing Daryl's shyness, she knew that it wasn't because you and him were having unprotected sex. The two of you weren't like that.

★ When she noticed after a couple of months that there was finally one gone, she couldn't help the teasing she bestowed on you when Daryl went home.

★ She has met William Dixon a number of times. The man has hit on her more times than one, completely unaware that she knew his son. However, since she was aware of the abuse, she's told him to "fuck off" every time.

—

I have so many more! If y'all want a part two, let me know!

#krys writes .ೃ࿐ #shopping spree hangout dreams #young!daryl dixon #young!daryl #young daryl dixon #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x reader #twd daryl #the walking dead #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader

[hidtired]

Count to 8

(Daryl Dixon x Reader) Masterlist

“There is no greater love then to give one’s life for friends.”

Description: The Prison was destroyed and your family lost. Leaving you alone and with less fingers then you started with. You were known to be a gentle being. You were sorely unaware of what you were capable of.

4.6k words

Warnings! (Angst, graphic injury/violence, cannibalism, walking dead shenanigans, mentions of dead children, death, etc.) [Happy ending]

The explosion that rattled the prison is what sent you flying down the halls trying to get outside. Before you even had the door outside open you heard gunshots start to ring out. You upholstered the pistol from your side before proceeding. The nervous tremble of your hands shook while you let off the safety.

The sight was heartbreaking. People scrambling, things on fire, and you saw the fence was down. The prison was falling. The people who were attacking had a tank. You watched the few near you trying to defend themselves before getting shot. You fired in the direction of the shots while trying to get cover. You needed to find your people… you needed to find Daryl. That's when you heard the unmistakable sound of the dead. The screams from the people who were originally shooting at you indicating there was a lot inside the court yard already. They were flowing past the gate and smoking tank.

“Y/N!!!”

That got your attention. Wipping around to lock eyes with Daryl, Beth standing next to him. They were cornered by one of the wired gates that had a hole behind them. The flow of walkers stopping you from getting over to them. You were out of what little ammo you had. Only leaving you with your knife. You would have to find another way to them.

“GO! I’LL FIND A WAY AROUN-“ A walker, behind you stumbled into you, knocking you to the ground with it. Now laying on your back you had reached around with your left hand keeping its face away from you. Your knife slipped from your fall landing someplace near you. You struggled against the walker, left hand keeping its jaw away while the right searched blindly for your weapon. That's when two of your fingers, pinkie and ring, slipped into the mouth. The walker biting down. The snapping of your fingers was akin to the biting of a carrot. Your fist reflexively tightened around the walkers face. You screamed bloody murder at the pain. Sobbing and panicking.

Daryl was only left with a view of your flinging legs behind where you had taken cover in the gun fight. Then, there was your blood curdling scream of pain. “NOOOOOO!” He was about to bolt over to you ignoring the dead growing around him, when Beth grabbed him from behind pulling all her weight backwards. “NOOOOO!”, he began to cry. Beth yelling over your screaming, “WE HAVE TO GO! DARYL WE HAVE TO GO!” He let Beth drag him away. Away from you.

You had heard Daryl’s yelling. You managed to flip and get on top of the walker. With your fingers still jammed in its mouth unable to release it. You began to grab the head from its mouth and slam it into the concrete. Screaming and thrashing until the body went still. That walker had been a person of the prison, one that had been shot and had later turned. Most other walkers around were coming attracted to you from your noise. While on your knees scrambling to find your knife, taking a moment after finding it to collect yourself before aligning it on the floor with the barely attached fingers of your left hand. You breathed in and crunched down at the base of the bitten fingers. Leaving your fingers on the ground while you stood. The corner of your vision turning black. You needed to get out of here. Clutching the bleeding hand to your chest against, you dodged the dead dizzily running out the gate the bus left through.

When you made it a ways into the forest away from the crumbling prison, you slide down the side of a tree. You pulled a lighter out from your pocket (the one you would often carry around for Daryl) and started to heat the side of your blade. Holding the knife with your knees until it got red hot. Flipping the lighter closed tossing it to the side. Grabbing the knife you started to hype yourself up to cauterize the wound. The sizzling sound and smell of burnt flesh left your already spinning state worse. Your attempt to contain the screaming was while lack luster still effective.

You sit there slumped against that tree. Rapping the wound with a sleeve from your red long-sleeve shirt. You begin to uncontrollable cry. You were in pain yes but you were thinking of everything you had just lost in a few moments. Everyone you had lost. You had only seen Daryl and Beth the whole time. ‘He is still out there, somewhere.’

You had taken a few moments to yourself at the tree before deciding you needed to find a place to collect yourself. Somewhere to sleep before you passed out. Hopeful for food, water, and medicine. You walked.

That night you did find a small hunters cabin. Just as it was getting a little too hard to see in the dark. Showing to be a moonless night. The place was clear of walkers. You found a Chef Boyardee can, a little bottle of water, and small first aid kit. You would look through the place harder in the morning. The first aid was seemed to be for only small injury’s. Containing Band-Aids and Neosporin. But it was the little individually wrapped, one serving size things that was a saving grace. Some Tylenol’s, a few hydrogen peroxide wipes, and real bandages. You ate the Boyardee can cold and drank half of the little bottle.

This is your first time alone since the apocalypse happened. First time you will have to take care of yourself without another person. In the beginning you struggled to kill the dead. Daryl was frustrated at you for being… well you. His sweet girl. He’s known you from his little town. You would volunteer at the animal shelter. Merle would mock him for liking you. Saying he was no better than the strays you would help. Not even into 3 months dating when all shit went to hell.

He tried to teach you. Knife, gun, hunting, hand to hand. Just to insure some peace and mind into him. “All sweet and nice things in this world get crushed and die.”

Days later

You found tracks with signs all leading to a place, Terminus. The god awful itch of your wound was becoming unbearable. The swelling had gone down leaving your hand many colors. You while not necessarily following the tracks were slowly make your way down them. Stopping to look around any building you found (hoping to see anything to indicate your family was in the area). You had founded some new clothes and some other supplies with your searching, you would stuff all of it into your new pack. You were also relearning how to use your left hand that was missing 2 of your fingers. You had joked to yourself that,

"Now I can only count to 8."

While on your walk down the tracks a crunching noise brought you out of your thoughts. Lifting your foot to reveal a candy rapper. 'It was Michonne's favorite candy,' you thought. Some people had come through here. You looked ahead to the tracks. You decided then you would pick up the pace. Hopeful that your people were there.

When it got dark you found some place in the woods to rest for now. Creating a small perimeter with wire and metal. You look at a map while struggling to rewrap your bandage one handed. Your guess was you would get to Terminus tomorrow evening walking without interruption. You had found a pill bottle prescribed to a Frank Darabont, a antibiotic. If you had learned anything from Herschel was getting a infection was not in the cards for you to survive.

With the sun beginning to rise you with the little sleep you had gotten, jumping at any noise in the darkness, started your walk down the remaining track.

Hours of walking made your legs and side ache. You slowed your pace when you got a whiff of something rotten. Low and behold there seemed to be a sizeable herd in front of you. You tended to just run away from the dead when you saw them. Not trusting to taking many on with your injury. They wondered on down the track like you. You would have to follow it the rest of the way to Terminus.

You were focused on the herd in front of you until you heard gun shots a distance away. Maybe they were fighting the dead? But they were still to far away for that. Something was wrong. The high whistle and boom of a firework startled you. Collecting yourself you then thought, 'so there not shooting at the dead.' You started to jog closer to the herd. You heard cursing from the woods to your left. You paused to see some of the herd had seen him and started to follow after him. The man acknowledged the dead before the sound of his walkie sounded off, "Well I call the kids hat."

You barely heard it from where you were. You were slowly making your way from tree to tree behind the man. One of many of Daryl's lessons helping you quietly stalk up behind the man. The man walked backwards watching the herd in front of him. The cold metal of your knife curling around to his throat. The man let out a small gasp before raising his hands. Using your left hand to slap the walkie out of his hand, causing a sting down your nerves into your arm, but you ignored it. You used a quiet cold tone to speak, "The kid with the hat, what did you do to him."

The man stuttered out, "W-we were just defending are selves." You pull the knife closer drawing a little blood, "Try that again. The truth this time asshole." Around 4 walkers were making a approach. The man's eyes flicking to each one, "We didn't h-have a choice. Y-you could join us! You get used to the taste of them." It took you a minute to comprehend what this man just said. Gasping at the realization the man also realizing he said to much and attempted to turn to fight you. But you had already moved the blade deeper into his neck. You pushed the man into the walkers giving him as there meal.

You had never killed someone before. In that moment you didn't feel a single thing about it either, that's what scared you. You slowly backed away from the body that was being snacked on by three of the walkers. The man had stopped squirming finally. The other walker had it sights on you. You lead it away from the others. You were going to need it for what you were about to do.

You gutted the walker and let it fill with blood. You took the black hoodie that you would us when it got dark. As well the thin blanket from your pack cutting a hole for your head. Dipping the fabric into the blood staining it red. You pulled up your hood before putting on the blanket. You couldn't be sure if "the kid in the hat" was Carl, but it could be. It was a kid none the less.

You had found a small iPod shuffle a while back. Not using it often because you thought you could us it as a distraction if you got caught in a pickle. You would slip ahead of the herd and lead them back to Terminus. Using them as a distraction to try and find anyone from the prison.

You were ahead of the herd leading them back to Terminus with the little iPod on as loud as it could go. "Time" by Pink Floyd playing. You could see the gate and saw people starting to acknowledge the dead approaching. You were going to try your best to walk like the dead around you.

A light flickered in the corner of your vision. You turned to see a sniper behind a chain fence. Their shot made you jump. They shot the gas tank, leaving it to release vaper. You turned in the direction of the shooter to see them struggling to light something. The person seemed to look around then back to what they were doing before they did a double take to your direction. Your mind clicked they were going to blow the tank. You stared back to the person for a second before throwing the iPod in front of you and running to your right to try and enter from the side. Gun shots were flying in the air. They were shooting the dead but turned to you seeing you run.

It didn't last long though because the tank exploded sending a wave of heat at your back while you ran. Temporarily stopping the gun fire, giving you the time you needed to get around the other corner of the fence. You found a lose part of the fence and slipped in. Running for in between the builds looking behind every corner before turning. You found a door that was slightly ajar. It was cold, and dark. But the light from outside showed you the horror's inside. Body parts hanging from lines. Human ribs on hooks. You back away from the room. You had to find whoever was here and get them out. You found another door to finding candles and things forming a circle. Like to be a memorial. You didn't recognize any of the belongings or names had you quickly made your way across the room to another door.

The door revealed tables and tables of stuff. You saw a weapons table and with you only having a knife decided to find something. But then you saw it. A crossbow. His crossbow. You shakingly pick it up. Some tears brimming in your eyes but don't fall. He could still be here. You turn your head and freeze. A table full of toys and stuffed animals, kids belongings.

You sat there and stared for a moment. You no longer had the tremble of fear in your hands, just stillness.

You were going to kill all of them.

Strapping the crossbow to your back. You pick a knife up from the table and duel wield with your existing one. You held the knife upside down with your left hand, it was easier to hold with your remaining 3 fingers. You swiftly paced out the door, you were going on a man hunt.

Outside walkers roamed. Remaining gun shots alerting you to were your targets were. As you got closer to the sound of a pistol, you waited around a corner. Careful to keep a eye on the walkers passing you. A man shooting backwards and women beside him tried running pass you. But you had tripped the running man sending him flying to the floor. The women turned to see were the man went before she was meet with on of your knifes digging under her chin. You quickly released it turning to the man. You stepped on the gun in his hand and lent down to send the left knife into his head.

You took the gun from the man and ran in the direction they were trying to go, leaving the body's for the walkers who tried surrounding you. You saw a door to a building close so you followed. You heard footsteps walking up stairs. You slowly and quietly made your way toward and up them. A door to a roof was slowly closing as you saw a group of men aiming toward something. Just as they started firing you started to empty the rest of the clip of the pistol you stole into them from the side. Most startled and tried to flee and went out another door opposite to you. You manage to kill and injury a few. You threw the pistol at them and reached for the other knife strapped to your side. Sprinting full speed at the now two remaining.

You fought the first one and nicked his stomach. You saw the man behind him aim his gun to you but you pushed his friend into the shot. His head exploded blood splattering down to your face. If you were just a foot taller you would have been the same. You shoved the dead man backwards into his friend. You swung your knife for his head but missed by a inch. So you plunged your right into his chest. He groaned stumbling back. "YOU STUPID BITC-" Your knife ended into his throat. "Shut up." You tried catching your breath. You turned to see what they were originally shooting at.

There was a group jumping over the fence. The last one of them just getting over. He turned looking to you. It looked like Rick... you gasped, 'They are alive... there right there!' You could make out Carl by his hat, Michonne standing next to him. You couldn't make out a few of them like the red hair- Your thought was interrupted by the sound of dragging behind you. Someone you had shot crawling to a gun on the floor. You ran over kicking it farther from him. He groaned and turn to look up at you. He opened his mouth but before a word could come out you were stomping threw his head with your boot.

You turned back to see the group heading into the woods. A man with a all to familiar winged vest leading them. You felt relief, he is there, he is ok. Your attention was back to the door the rest of the men you hadn't killed ran to. You looked around to the body's surrounded you. You walked over to the door stepping over there bodies.

Your slaughter was not over with yet.

Group POV

Walkers were approaching while everyone was trying to climb the fence. From a roof gun shots were rain down at there feet before abruptly stopping. Rick turned to see a hooded figured fighting and killing two of the men. He turned to climb over the fence himself. Turning back to see the figure staring at them before whipping around at something behind them and running at it. It was Daryl that first spoke up.

"Looks like someone is killin' those assholes. We gotta go man." Rick only nodded as he walked with everyone to the woods. They needed to go find the bag they buried.

Daryl was tracking their old prints to it. The conversation that followed the recover of there thing was Rick saying that these people couldn't live. The conversation was interrupted by a twig snapping in the woods. Carol appeared around a tree. Daryl ran to hug her. After your death Daryl just needed someone other then Rick to talk to about you (and Beth when they got drunk).

Carol was also expecting you to come flying at her for a hug. Her two favorite people. Rick approached "Was that you?" He pointed backwards. He appeared about ready to cry. Carol shock her head, "Not fully, there was another person, I simply opened the door. I tried to follow them but lost them." Rick embraced her. "Thank you." He pulled back from her, "Was this person wearing a black hood?" Carols eyes widened and she nodded. "I also found these for you." She pulled out Rick's gun and watch.

Carol took a second to look around at everyone there. When she didn't see you among them she turned to Daryl with a questioning look. 'Where is she?' the look Daryl's face turned understanding the unspoken question. That and Ricks looking down knowing the question to. Carol brought a hand to her face, "How?" Daryl stared off into the distance like he was seeing it again before swallowing the lump in his throat and talking, "It- happened at the prison, a walker." This was news to Glenn, Maggie, Sasha, and Bob. They all knew who he was talking about. Maggie turned into Glenn's side. While they had found each other Daryl had seen you die. They were lucky, and Daryl had seen the things of there nightmares. It was worse for Glenn knowing to be on the look out for possible rings for you while on runs.

Carols voice cut threw the sad tension, "You have to come with me." Carol led them to a shack. Seeing Judith and Tyrese lifted some spirits. They were together again despite everything. They needed to get away from this nightmare of a place and move on.

It was later when they got a camp going for the night when Carol approached Daryl. She rested her hand on his knee. Daryl looked over and nodded in understanding at her attempt of comfort. Daryl looked to the forest before speaking, "Are first date Y/n had found a stray dog walking the streets. She jumped out the car without saying a word. Coming back with a shivering old dog." Daryl smiled at the memory before turning to look at Carol. "That date I worried about planning was thrown away to her apartment taking care of that dog. That's when I knew she was going to more then anything I thought I deserved." Carol took in the information, they were private about most thing in there relationship. Carol simply smiled, "Its people like her that have so much love to give it flows into anything around them." A chill ran up their spine ruining the moment. They both looked to the woods, the feeling of eyes on them. 'They weren't alone out here...'

Your POV

You found the tracks of the men who fled you. You notice they were headed to in the direction you saw your family head. Even more reason to kill them. Their seemed to be a good few of them as well.

The orange glow of a fire attracted you like a moth. Four sat near the fire discussing, "They stopped for the night, we'll take shifts making sure they stay there." Your jaw tightened, they were stalking your group. One of them would be watching yours group away from theirs. You were going to pick them off one by one.

You moved quietly through the woods. Tightening the strings of your hood and abandoning the gross blanket. Your left hand ache but the cold of night was helping the burning feeling it was spreading all in your hand. Your eyes shifting from tree to tree looking for the man that was watching. You saw the silhouette leaning into a tree. A distance away you could make out a slight glow of orange. They were right there... but they weren't safe yet.

You ducked between trees getting closer to the guy. Shoulders aching while you lifted your knife above your head to kill him. You were getting tired and the amount of walking and running you had done this day was probably why you missed. The man spun around swiping his knife back at you. The metal of the crossbow on your back blocked the blade from you. You thrusted the knife in your left hand into him. You slashed him between the ribs but lost grip of the knife doing so. He screams alerting both camps to his injury. You had hesitated with the vibration in your hand, leaving the man the chance to start running.

You chased after him with your original knife. He was headed to the fire, which one you didn't know. He was to far in front of you to hit. You remembered the bolt already pulled in the weapon on your back. Rolling it off your shoulders and aiming at the man about to break in to the clearing, you fired it. The sound of him falling made you jog over to were you hit him, out of breath, head and heart pounding.

The scream had made everyone pause in your camp, looking to each other as they quietly picked up there weapons. The sound of someone rushing toward them made them all stand and take aim in the direction. A man fell into their view with a arrow in his lower back, he slowly still trying to crawl away. Daryl taken notice it was one of his. A much slower pace followed behind him.

You broke through the brush panting, crossbow in left and knife in your right hand. You noticed first the man you had shot, then all the weapons aimed at you. You dropped the crossbow to the floor... moving to take your hood off. Your face was splatted with blood and sweat dripped from your hair line. You looked to everyone but stopped when you landed on Daryl. He slowly lowered his gun in disbelief. The man groaning in pain regained your attention and you flung the knife down landing into his skull.

Daryl was making a slow approach to you at first before you sniffled trying to hold back the tears and voice a simple, "Hey..." At your voice Daryl ran into you. Tucking your face into his neck as he curled into you. Holding onto you for dear life. The rest of the group had broken out in surprise and some tears. The new comers understanding your friend not foe. Rick approached as well looking down to the body you had killed, eyes wide, "You were the one killing them...?" You nodded still in your embrace with your lover. Carol approaching and hugging you from the side. You were surprised to see her, she had left the prison before anything had happened. She spoke as she side hugged you, "You were the one who leading all those walkers." Carol couldn't believe you could have done such a thing. You had nodded again and replied in realization, "And you with the gas tank."

Daryl had pulled back from you to look at your face, "How is this possible, I saw that walker take you down- Then I had heard the screams, I couldn't-" You stopped him by raising both of your hands, "I did get bit." You wiggled all your existing fingers, "Now I can only count to 8 though." Daryl's eyes were glassy, he had a black eye, he seemed to be abought to break out into a string of apologies. You reached to grab his face and rubbed his cheek with your thumb. You had to look away to turn to Rick. "Those asshole were camping near by and watching you. I would go check if their still there but knowing them they tucked tail and ran."

Rick nodded and took half the group to investigate. Leaving you at the camp with the rest. You were starting to crumple under exhaustion. You sat by the fire next to Daryl leaning into him. He rubbed a hand to your back while Maggie was taking a look at your hand. Carl standing behind her holding Judith trying to catch a glimpse of your injury. You smiled hazily at the sight. You leaned your head back into Daryl's shoulder, "You were right about, “All sweet and nice things in this world get crushed and die.” I felt a piece die in me while on a rampage... I killed so many of them, but don't feel a shred of guilt for doing so." Maggie looked up to look at both of you from cleaning and bandaging your hand, Daryl had his jaw clenched but just leaned into you. It was Carl that spoke, "How many did you kill?" You closed your eyes relaxing for the first time, feeling safe in Daryl's presence. You let out a small sigh,

"Not all of them, but I counted about 8."

It was most defiantly more then 8...

Hope you enjoyed! A FYI my requests are always open! They’re also encouraged!

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl imagines #daryl x female reader #daryl x reader #norman reedus #twd daryl #angst #fluff #happy ending

[renren-006]

Savior | Daryl Dixion x fem reader

plot: Daryl saved you, and you want to kiss your savoir warning: slight mentions of almost taken advantage of, violence word count: 1518 a/n: I just had to write this idea!

taglist: @rosecentury

Back when the world had just ended, and things were still unknown, you were wounded around Atlanta's wooded, less populated areas. You had run from your car that got overrun, remembering the screams of your parents and the harsh pain in your ankle after you fell from the car watching them. You still struggled on your ankle; hisses escaped your lips as you walked. You had not stopped long through the days to heal or to rest, not knowing where the next undead would come for your flesh. Your jeans were worn and dirty, your red shirt now had holes, and you desperately wanted a bath. 

The day Daryl came to your rescue was the first day you had fallen asleep next to a tree with the fire embers still cooling in the morning rays. You heard the crunch and woke with a startle; there were three men watching you, all eyeing your body like a prise. 

"Well, lookie here, boys, some fresh meat for us," one of them said, toying with his belt to hide the painfully evident erection there. All three of them had one. You didn't know what to do, had nowhere to go, and knew you wouldn't make it far with your ankle.

"Please don't," you said, your voice coming out louder than you intended, maybe preying someone would hear you. 

"Aw, look at her. She's begging. I want her first," the second man said, and the others shook their heads. 

"no way she's mine," The third said, pushing his friend back before strutting twords you.

"No, No!" you said, shouting; maybe even the undead would save you. "Please!" he came to you, and you struggled to push him off. The others were smiling, ribbing their pants, and wanting their turn. 

"Hurry up, man", the first man said. Wanting the man who was trying to get your belt off to rush. That was when an arrow went through the man's skull, making his body thud against the forest floor, and then the second man went down with a knife in the head. The man on top of you looked back and gave you just enough room for you to knee his body off you. The man looked angry as you went back further, your pants even more ruined from the mud. Thankfully, your belt was still on, and your pants only ripped slightly from his strength. The man went down soon after, and two men peered around the trees twords you. 

"Hey there, girlie?" one of them asked, the same face the men had before they died. The shorter one pushed him back, walking over to you, bending down by the man, and pushing him away so you couldn't see his dead eyes. 

"We ain't goin' to hurt ya," he said, his voice soothing you from wanting to leave. "We got ya know."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," the taller one said. 

"He ain't going to hurt you either. hands off, Merle," the man sad

"I got it", Merle said, getting the hint that I wasn't to be touched by him at all. 

"I'm Daryl, that ma brother Merle. He won't get his hands on ya," Daryl said to you, holding out a hand; this seemed to be the first act of kindness this man had shown anyone in a while, and his face read it all too well.

"You don't save many people, do you?" you asked him. He shook his head, lagging slightly.

"Nah, normally we don't run into people. ya needed help, coulden't leave" Daryl told you, gripping your hand in his as he lifted you up. "You aint got no weapons on you?"

You told him, "No… I didn't prepare for the world to end." He nodded his head. Merle looked around, noticing a few of the undead heading your way.

"We gotta move." 

That started your journey with the brothers for a few months. It was just you two. They trained you on how to hunt and how to fight, and most importantly, how to piss Merle off, so he left you alone. Daryl also made sure your ankle was looked after, and in no time, it was better. Merlemeantt, no harm to you; he was just desperate for action you never wanted to give him. Daryl became your savior and bodyguard, making sure Merle understood that would NEVER happen. 

The three of you traveled until you met others who welcomed you into their small, little mountain-top community. It was you, the brothers, some sisters, and a man named Dale for a bit. Soon, the group grew and grew, but you only hung with Daryl and cursed off Merle. 

However, the time with him on the mountain made you aware of your attraction twords Daryl, the want you craved when you were near him. You were late in your 20's20s, having experienced college before traveling home to your parents just before the world ended. In those times before Daryl, you felt like you were younger, but now you feel your age, you feel strong. For the time being, you felt strong until your group had to pack up and leave because of a walker outbreak. 

Months later, you were entering the farm, your hands wrapped around Daryl as he rode into the grounds. You were mesmerized by how quiet and large it was here. While the others were setting up, you glanced over at Daryl, who was setting his tent up a bit away from them but not so far that he was secluded. 

"You got a tent?" Carol asked. You looked back at the woman. You didn't know what you were going to do. For the past months, you had slept by Daryl and Merle, but now, you were not sure what you would do.

"She with me," Daryl said, coming over to you. You looked beside you at the man who had apparently finished setting up and had walked over. "That good?"

"Of course," you told him, smiling; he nodded and walked over to Rick and the others.

"You both need to talk about your feelings for one another," Carol told you. "I can see it clear as day."

"Carol!" you said to the woman who had become a mother of sorts to you over the months. “I…cant”

"I think you can. I think you should," she told you, patting your back and going over to the others, leaving you thinking about how exactly you could even begin to explain to Daryl how Head becomes the soul man you wanted to be with for the rest of this apocalyptic world. 

It took you weeks and weeks to gain the courage, and only after he got shot did you tell him. He was lying in that recovery bed, not able to move a lot. You came in and sat beside him. 

"Whatcha doing in 'ere," He asked you as you sat down in the chair by his bed. 

"I…needed to tell you something…" You said to him, referring to the breakfast you had only a few hours earlier, which was being eaten away by the nerves. 

"What? Ya hurt?" he asked, concern spreading fast across his face.

"No, no," you told him, "I…god, I don't think I can tell you."

"Tell me what?" he asked, his southern accent so strong inside that room that it made your head spin.

"How you've been making me feel," you started, "I just didn't. I don't want to lose you, and after you got shot, I figured I might as well tell you before you died, and I never did."

"What are ya going on about?"

"I love you, Daryl. I've loved you since you saved me, and God, I love you even more since you've shown me how to be strong in this world", you rambled to the man in the bed beside you. Your hands were in your lap, and your eyes were glued to them. 

"Y/N," Daryl said in a soft tone you had never heard from him. 

"I know I should have told you you were the man who saved me, and you probably think I'm some kid to you", you said. Worry eating at you again.

"I don't think you're some kid." he told you, "I think you're a lot more than that."

"You do? You asked, eyebrows scrunched together. 

"That first night you spent with us, I didn't sleep cause I couldn't keep my eyes off ya," he told you, "I thought you were…blessed by a god or somethin'" he told you, holding your stare; there were tears in your eyes now 

"I don't think I ever heard you talk like that," you said, smiling through the slight tears brimming your eyes. 

"Ya won't again," he told you, pulling you down to him and kissing your lips so deeply. The door behind you opened, and then the person proceeded to fall into the door.

"Finally," Carol screeched. Smiles stretched over her face, as well as Ricks', who came to check on Daryl. Finally, you got to kiss your savor after all these months.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixion #daryl dixion imagine #the walking dead imagine #fanfic #daryl dixon #daryl x reader

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Rules of nature

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Daryl gets hurt on a simple hunting trip and reader patches him up.

You waved Daryl off with Hunter on your arm. You learned last time that having him stand next to you as his dad walked through the gate was a bad idea, having to pry him off Daryl's leg with way more effort thsn you both hoped. This time everything went way smoother and you were walking back home soon after the gate was closed.

Daryl walked until the gate was no longer visible, heading out to one of his personal stash boxes to hide his clothes in as he shifted for the hunt.

He made his rounds and quickly found a deer big enough to be his only catch and he'd be satisfied. He treaded lightly, staying low to the ground and making sure he stayed out of the deer's view. The greenery he stalked through was thick and his most of his figure well, he couldn't even see his own frontpaws.

He had the deer right where he wanted it and readied himself to jump. He lowered hhis body, legs positioned right, stepped in to jump and howled out in pain.

The second he put his front paw forward to jump he had hit something and was hit with a sharp pain through his whole jaw and muzzle.

He hit a porcupine. Daryl was so focused on the deer he hadn't sniffed out the creature hidden in the overgrown forest plants. As soon ashe ducked down and his paw hit the animal it jumped. The sharp quills on its back piercing akin and detaching from the smaller animal that now ran for its life as the large predator was distracted by the pain.

The deer was long forgotten as he tried to pull out the quills that got stuck in his face but his large paws couldn't get a grip. They were staying in.

With that came the problem of not being able to shift back into his human form, so whatever he hunted had to be dropped off near the gate in hopes someone would find it before it rotted, and a group was soon traveling so he could get help with his problem.

He shook out his fur, hoping hs'd dislodge some of the quills but only hurting himsslf more in the process. His loud whine surely scaring off any game nearby.

His best option now was to head off to a different location and try to catch something small for himeself to eat. Even a single fish would be enough for now but it was getting dark already and he mentally cursed at himself for being so careless and getting hurt. He'd prefer going home to you now with the disappointing news of having no food than wait, get help and shift back.

He'd risk it if he knew who was on the lookout shift right now, if he guessed wrong and an Alexandrian sas him come out of the treeline he'd be shot on sight.

His only option now was find food. He had go keep up his strength if he had to stay shifted, he needed to eat something.

Sticking to the lower greenery now he spotted a bird on a low branch. He could get it if he stayed low up til his jump point. He pounced and managed to catch it between his jaws, hurting himself so bad in thr process he ruined his landing and dropped hard on his side. The bird pressed into the spines that pierced through his lip and even the smallest bit of pressure hurt too much so chewing was out of the question.

He put up his best effort to pluck the bird clean in small bits, but he tore more to shreds then he left to eat. Werewolves and delicate handlings did not go hand in hand..

If he couldn't eat he'd have to sleep to conserve energy. He made his way up a sturdy tree, he'd stalk out to the main roads in the morning.

Sunrise woke him up, hopping out of the tree and slowly making his way to the roads. With his rumbling stomach he had no chance of finding and snacking on something in the meantime, but it made staying away from walkers a lot more difficult. On his way he had to fight some off, getting his hindleg caught on a vine in the process and having to limp the rest of the way after killing the walkers.

Now he was hungry and hurt even worse. He really needed someone to find him. His hid in the treeline, laying down and keeping his ears open for any sign of cars and horses, but when the sun was up at its highest he still hadn't seen anyone.

The sunlight was harsh, it warmed his fur but only made him more thirsty over time.

He waited and waited, nightfall coming and going. The sounds of crickets filled the air and he dreamed of snatching some off the greenery with how hungry he was.

Another morning came and he still hadn't seen anyone, growing desperate and worried about his family. He promised to be back soon as always but had been stuck out there for way longer than he had hoped. He needed to get home.

He'd have to hide as much as he could, but set out to the gate anyways. Staying low and out of sight was hard enough on his empty stomach, and the racing anxiety he had over who would be on watch made focusing even harder.

He made it to the abandoned houses undetected and got a glance at the watch.

Rosita.

A relieved huff left him as he stepped onto the road and kept his eyes on her, earning a shocked gasp before she disappeared. The sounds of her going down the stairs rung in his ears before the gate was shoved open and she came running to his aid. "Holy crap, Daryl! What happened to you?" He could only whine in response as she led him through the gate, for which she was met with quite the resistance from the original Alexandrians.

"This is outrageous!" Screamed onw woman, as a man followed up. "Anyone can just go around and break rules now?"

"I thought we made it clear we don't want that monster in here." The commotion had summoned Abraham, who easily shot down each and every comment as he helped Daryl home and up the porch steps.

There was a knock on the door just as you came downstairs. You weren't expecting anyone, but in this world that meant nothing anymore. You saw the blurred image of Abraham through the glass and opened the door for him.

"Hi, what bri-- Oh my god." You sank to your knees opun seeing your partner. Careful not to touch the spines stuck in his face you went to carress his fur, tears flowing freely without a care who saw them.

"Need anything from the doc? Gimme a list and I'm off." You thanked the man but shook your head no, having everything you needed in the house.

It was a sad scene, watching Daryl limp inside and lay down on the large rug in the middle of the living room.

He listened to your steps going into the kitchen and rummaginf through the cabinets. Then a metal object being filled with water, and then the clattering of tools.

"Relax, baby. I'm on my way." You held the bowl of water as steady aa possible, setting it down next to your injured partner. He looked horrible, so tired and weak.

You took some kichen towels, not wanting to waste time by running up to the bathroom. It was clear in his eyes how much he was hurting, if you didn't have to patxh him up yourself you'd probably cry your eyes out.

"I'm sorry, this is gonna hurt.." he watched as you picked up tongs and placed them around a single quill, close to Daryl's skin and pulled it out. He yelped in response and you apologised profusely, bending down to press a kiss to his forehead as you continued to pluck the quills from his chin. His soft whines continuing throughout the process. "I know, I know. But you'll be all good when it's over."

With all the quills removed from his lower jaw you moved on to his snout, carefully lifting his lip to see which ones had pierced all the way through.

"Alright, I'm gonna pull these ones out from the inside, it should hurt less." With one hand holding his lip up you pulled the quill through in one smooth motion, this time earning a less hurt reaction from Daryl. "See? That was a lot less bad!" Your little cheer only made him roll his eyes at you, but still moved his paw to squeeze your thigh in thanks.

You let out a soft laugh. "Don't thank me yet, we still got some left and those look deep." With a soft rub on his ear you continued, taking out the ones from the inside of his lip first before methodically moving from his nose towards the back of his jaw. There were some that got stuck crooked and dug deep, needing a strong pull and got a loud cry out of him each time. "Yeah, I'm not so nice anymore now huh." You frowned at his hurt expression, wanting nothing more than to cuddle him but his wounds were barely healing due to his malnutrition.

With a quick kiss to his forehead you got up and dug through the fridge for you dinner meats, handing them over. "Can you chew?"

He tried a piece and winced as he bit down, the pressure hurting the punctures.

So that was a no.

You went back to the kitchen and grabbed a knife and cutting board, chopping up the meat into small pieces Daryl could swallow whole. He instantly ate and hummed in satisfaction, slowly feeling the skin on his face knit back together and feel the muscle in his leg tingle as it healed.

Even after all the time you had spent with him, you still watched him heal in awe.

"Can you walk?" You watched Daryl as he slowly sat up, testing the strength of his legs and noddig as he kept up his weight. "You should go rest in bed while I go pick up Hunter from Rick's place and see if I can get some extra meat." You made sure he got up the stairs in one piece and rested in the bed before heading back downstairs and out.

Retrieving Hunter was an easy job, having him jump up in your arms as soon as he saw you at the door. You made sure to thank Rick and Michonne again for letting him sleep over and play with Judith.

Your trip to the pantry took a little longer than planned with Hunter insisting on paddin along with you on his little legs, but in the end you succeeded in getting an extra ration of meat for dinner.

Back home you dumped the meat in the fridge and wasted no time getting back up thr stairs with Hunter hot on your heels as he sniffed out his dad. He even made it past you and beat you to the bedroom, climbing onto the bed and crawling between Daryl's arms and nuzzled against his chest.

"Ahw, hey.. that's where I wanted to go." There was a soft murmur before Daryl moved and took Hunter in one arm, moving to make space for you.

With you against his chest and Hunter against yours it was clear you weren't going anywhere until dinnertime.

But that was fine. No matter who came fhrough that door, you were going to spend today in bed making sure your partner healed and rested enough to shift back.

#sometimes i write #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd daryl #twd #the walking dead #twd au #werewolves #werewolf

[thoughtless-muse]

“for whom the tongue craves to taste,” [d.d]

a/n: quick disclaimer – this is actually just a snippet of a larger piece that I’m putting together (a smutty 5+1 prompt, five times daryl made you cum, and the one time he let you return the favor) but as it’s my first real attempt at smut, I wanted to post this as a means to garner some constructive criticism before finishing the piece. If you’d be so kind to read and lmk your thoughts/critiques, I’d really appreciate it!

c/w: explicit sexual content, cunnilingus, shower cunnilingus, tongue fucking, fingering, language, dirty talk, undisclosed age gap, 18+

word count: 2.4k

|||||||||| ADULT ONLY PLEASE ||||||||||||

that morning, had anyone scooped you off to the side and told you that mere hours after arriving at the pipe-dream that was the CDC you’d be corralled into a hot shower with none other than daryl dixon squished between your thighs, you’d have laughed straight in their face and directed them towards the nearest mental institution – not that that would do anyone much good, given the state of things; but had anyone declared a statement that outrageous, you’d have thought their mind already gone, much like the drooling, shuffling, decaying bodies wandering the earth.

yet here you were, a steady jet of hot water battering the sore muscles of your back, liquor-laden torso slightly slumped, thighs spread open by broad shoulders and daryl dixon’s wicked tongue licking your little cunny straight to nirvana.

how the fuck did you even end up here, anyway?

it was so uncharacteristic of you – you knew next to nothing about daryl dixon. he was simply a mutual stranger. you’d never even had more than a few fleeting conversations with the man, for fuck’s sake; if you could even call them that. daryl was brusque and wholly unapproachable, and his attitude left a lot to be desired. due to his unpleasantness, you’d opted to keep your distance and observe rather than to interact. to be completely honest, you’d been more judgmental rather than observant of the man before, back at the quarry, internally critiquing his sour attitude, accent and frayed clothes; and, shamefully, even at times presuming that he was some forty year old virgin that had been holed up in his mother’s basement before the world went to shit – but, fuck, were you ever wrong.

maybe he was forty, maybe he had been holed up in his mother’s basement, who the fuck knows, but he sure as fuck wasn’t a virgin – at least, his tongue wasn’t. the way he moved it, fucked it into you, made a mess of you with it, there was no way he wasn’t experienced with it.

you let out a loud, trembling gasp when daryl suddenly broke his tender tongue-flicks to slide his teeth gently against your clit before wrapping his lips around it and sucking.

okay, fuck, scratch that. he was experienced with his whole mouth.

unlike the few other men you’d allowed to taste the heaven between your legs, daryl used his entire lower face to devour you – his tongue was the star of the show, of course, but his lips, nose and chin made a hell of a supporting cast. when his tongue was busy fucking your walls, his nose was right against your clit in its place, his head shaking side to side, applying just enough pressure to bring you pleasure but not enough to stimulate you into orgasm; and then, as if he could simply innately sense when you were becoming desperate for more, his tongue would slip from your hole and return to your clit once more, circling and flicking it with expert movements, quickly bringing you right back to that sweet precipice.

how long had he been at it?

the water wasn’t cold yet – or maybe your body was just too hot to register that it was; but with the amount of times that daryl had built then robbed you of your orgasm, you drunkenly surmised that it had to of been a good fifteen minutes. any other man would have tapped out from exhaustion already.

of course, there were times when his tongue would get tired, but even then, unlike your previous lovers, he seemed loathe to leave you without any contact – he would alternate between giving your clit chaste little kisses and moving his lips against your entire cunt as if it were a second mouth that he was intent on claiming; then, when his tongue was rested enough, he would dive right back into devouring you.

it was absolutely wrecking you, in the best and worst ways.

maybe it was simply the affects of the alcohol swimming through your veins that fed you the illusion of this being the best damn head you’d ever received; maybe it was because you certainly didn’t have a lot of other experiences to compare it to; or maybe it was the warmth that came with the comfort of hot water and a full stomach that made it so much better – either way, you were almost at the brink now, again, thighs quaking with the effort of holding your body upright and staving off your impending orgasm; you knew daryl would more than likely take it away if he sensed it, and you weren’t sure if you could handle that.

“oh, god,” you hissed out when daryl flattened his tongue against your clit, flicking it with short, harsh movements, before slipping it down to part your folds and lick up your slit. he transitioned between the repetitive movements at a near imperceptible speed, without ever having to trade out accuracy and rhythm for it. it was a dangerous cocktail of pleasure that had you damn near seeing stars. each harsh swipe of his tongue against your clit sent zips of electricity up your spine, and built a familiar tension within your gut.

“ya like tha’, sweetheart?” daryl parted from your cunt just enough to inquire huskily, his voice so low that you barely even managed to catch it over the volume of the hissing spray. you nearly whined at the loss of his tongue, and, rather than answer his question, which you could hardly even decipher at the moment, you reached a hand down to tangle your fingers into the short hair at his nape, using what leverage you had to push his head forward until the tip of his nose brushed against your sensitive clit once more.

“no, d-don’t – don’t talk…” you slurred out, tugging at his hair insistently and pulling a deep, rumbling chuckle from the man below you.

“some manners you have,” daryl drawled, but to your delight, returned his tongue to your slit, parting your wet folds and slipping it past the rim of your tight entrance. your fingers twitched against his nape as you released a high, airy sigh, and your hips began to move of their own accord, humping your cunt against his face and pulling even more vibrating vocalizations from his throat. you just wanted firmer friction, damn it.

your stomach was stirring, tight, that pressure slowly mounting. it felt fucking good, the way he was thrusting and wiggling his tongue against your gummy walls, fucking you with the thick muscle, his nose bumping into your clit and sending subtle jolts up your spine, and those vibrations and sounds, fuck! – but it just wasn’t enough. you needed something different, something more.

“do… do what you were doing before…” you requested breathlessly, hips trembling, fingers digging into the skin of his nape in desperation. “‘m so close, daryl… just need more.”

the thought of keeping your impending orgasm away from his awareness seemed to have slipped away in the midst of the tremulous pleasure he was bringing you, and maybe you shouldn’t have let the information out, but you were so desperate. your tummy was so fucking tight, that coil winding and winding to a painful climax, and holding it in just seemed impossible, you needed to let it go – and at the moment, the only way you could possibly reach orgasm was through daryl.

daryl flicked his eyes up to meet yours, and though your vision was a bit hazy from the steam and alcohol, you swore the man was smirking up at you from within your cunt. daryl was silent for a moment, all movements against your cunny paused, before he leaned back slightly and said, lowly, “why don’ I do somethin’ better, instead?”

before your drunk, horny, fuddled mind could truly decipher his words daryl was in motion; his warm hand gripped the back of your knee, bending your leg easily and hoisting it atop his shoulder – distantly, you registered a strange sensation against the skin of your calf (was that a shirt? was daryl fully clothed right now?) – and once your leg was stabilized, he skirted the fingers of his other hand up your other leg, the one that was still planted to the floor of the shower.

his fingertips grazed your knee, then the plush flesh of your thigh, before reaching between your hips. you jumped slightly when you felt the pad of his finger run over your slit, the thick digit parting your folds smoothly, the tip dipping ever so subtly into your entrance every so often. like he was testing the waters, or something.

“d-daryl, what are you doing?” you inquired, heart tripping over itself, apprehension twisting in your gut for the first time since he’d invited himself into your shower and initiated this whole thing.

wait, had he invited himself? or did you do that?

you couldn’t remember.

“shh, jus’ trus’ me, sweetheart. This’s gon’ blow yer mind.” daryl responded back, calmly, warm breath fanning over your sensitive clit as he spoke. your breath shuddered in your lungs, but any further objections died in your throat when daryl’s hot tongue met your sex, circling, flicking, flattening, devouring – his pace was much faster and firmer than before, the pleasure much more intense than what had previously been given.

“o-oh, fuck! daryl!” you moaned, your hand sliding up from his nape to the crown of his head, fingers fisting into his hair to hold his head still as you rutted your hips forward to meet his skilled tongue.

“shit, that’s it, baby,” daryl panted, muffled, into the slick heat of your cunt, tongue drawing lazy circles between his words. “jus’ fuckin’ lose it. use my tongue, sweetheart.”

it felt so fucking good. it felt like your cunt was melting right into daryl’s mouth, searing hot and drippy, sloppy, coating his lips, jaws, nose, and neck with copious amounts of your arousal – all the while daryl growled, groaned, and moaned as he slurped it down, as if it was the very nectar of life itself.

your gut felt like it would burst – at any moment, with any flick of his tongue, in time with any of those vibrating groans, you’d be exploding all over daryl’s face, releasing every single ounce of the pent-up arousal daryl had inflicted upon your body over the last fifteen minutes in a single second.

“daryl, daryl, god, yes… fuck, don’t stop… don’t s-stop.”

you continued to repeat those words, falling like a river from your mouth, a mantra that seemed to keep you grounded as daryl’s tongue threatened to send you floating away –

a sound akin to a scream bubbled in your throat when daryl suddenly slipped two of his thick fingers into your cunt; the sensation was far from unpleasant but far too close to overwhelming – and when he began to pump them in time with the flicks of his tongue, and curled them just so on every outward pull, scraping against something at the top of your gummy walls, you simply couldn’t hold it in.

your entire body locked up, muscles freezing as your lips fell open to release mute moans, both hands now swinging down to grip daryl’s hair.

those silent moans you were releasing quickly morphed into loud, wanton, downright sinful vocalizations as daryl pumped his fingers into your cunt, still rubbing that sweet spot, fingerfucking you through your high and bringing stars to your eyes. you pressed daryl’s head impossibly closer to your cunt, humping whatever you could and burying his fingers deeper inside your walls with desperate, short, shaky movements, releasing a litany of his name and curses in between breathy pants and moans.

when the waves of your high had begun to recede, you slowed your hips until they came to a complete stop, your chest heaving from the deep lungfuls of steamy air you pulled in. your body felt incredibly fuzzy, your mind pleasantly foggy; but your body, and everything else, felt too hot, too cramped, too everything, and when daryl decided to give your throbbing, sensitive clit one last tiny flick of his tongue, you damn near smacked him in the head.

if only your arms would move.

a small gasp was pulled from your lips when daryl slipped his fingers from your sloppy cunt, the friction against your sensitive walls almost enough to have your entire body seizing, and it was only when daryl lifted his hands up to grip your wrists were you able to disentangle your fingers from his hair; only with his help, of course.

daryl then grasped the plump flesh of your thigh, the one that was still tossed over his shoulder, and pulled it down slowly, not releasing his hold until your foot was planted firmly on the wet floor of the tub.

when your balance was secured daryl scuttled back from between your legs, and when he’d rose to a standing position, his chest now centimeters from your own (which you distantly realized was bare) you couldn’t help but stumble backwards until your back hit the cold wall. your lids felt incredibly heavy, and exhaustion gnawed insistently at your muscles; but through the fog, you were able to register daryl, who was indeed fully clothed, the fabric of his shirt and jeans soaked and clinging to his body like a second skin – and you were certain that was a smirk on his lips.

a smirk that said he knew he had just blown your mind, even if you would never admit it to him.

it seemed as though your orgasm had sobered you up a bit, because when daryl sidled up to you, right beneath the harsh spray, and placed his large hands on your naked hips, you were able to lift your hands and plant them on his chest. he didn’t attempt to move closer to you, but his hands didn’t fall from your hips either; and when he spoke, his voice was chock-full of cockiness that you found simultaneously alluring and irritating.

“if ya ever want yer mind blown again, ya know where to find me.”

with that, daryl slipped his hands from your hips and turned, ripped open the shower curtain with little effort and then stepped out, as if he hadn’t just performed an intimate act on you. water dripped noisily against the linoleum floor as he stalked away, and, not one to give up the chance at having the last word, you croaked out,

“in your dreams, dixon.”

the only thing you got in reply was a haughty chuckle, echoing into the bathroom from somewhere within the quarters you’d claimed for the night.

#daryl x reader #twd #daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl dixon x reader #twd x reader

[celtic-crossbow]

For You, I'd Bleed Myself Dry

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Early-ish Alexandria

Warnings: Suggestive (extremely mild); hangover

Summary: You're hung over and don't really remember how you got to Rosita's house the night before. Or what you had said on the way there.

A/N: Just a fun little drabble born of this incorrect quote. Suggested by @marvelcasey05

©celtic-crossbow 2023. I do not allow for my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or placed on any other platform without my consent.

You didn’t expect to find Daryl still home when you wandered in the next morning. He was always an early riser, and though everyone else still slept, he would usually be long gone and outside the gates. So, when you tip-toed through the door and into the kitchen, your heels in your hand, he nearly scared the life out of you. You flipped the lightswitch and:

“Mornin’.”

“Jesus Christ, Daryl!”

The archer chuckled behind his coffee mug before tilting it the least bit more to take a sip. “Rollin’ in awful late.”

You shrugged “Or early, depending on how you look at it. Any left?” You nodded toward the cup. He gave a quiet mhm and got up to make you a mug. Your head was throbbing. You knew your makeup was a mess and your hair a disaster. You had slept in your dress at Rosita’s, so it was wrinkled and you were almost certain that it was only partially zipped in the back.The party hadn’t been that fun but the liquor had been flowing. That was why you went. Things in Alexandria had been stressful. Your group had been there a while. Long enough for so many problems to come along and be handled. The past week had been particularly eventful. Still, it had been handled and there had been some time to cut loose. 

So, you did.

You sat your heels on the counter and muttered a thank you when he slid the mug across the surface, narrowing your eyes across the rim as you readied for a drink. “Do you know how I take my coffee?”

“Guess you’ll need to take a drink an’ find out, won’tcha?” He was perching himself back on the island stool when you realized that Daryl Dixon was barefoot, wearing flannel pajama pants, and a faded Led Zepplin t-shirt. 

“You’re wearing people clothes.” You blinked, still holding the mug close to your mouth. 

Daryl smirked from behind his own cup. “M’a person, contrary to popular belief.” He took another sip, prompting you to take one of your own. He did know how you liked your coffee. Interesting. 

An ache in your left foot reminded you that you wanted nothing more than to go to your room and fall into a coma for a few hours. “I should probably take some—”

“S’behind ya. Got ‘em out earlier. Water too.”

There were two tablets on the countertop by the fridge, along with a glass of water. You warily picked them up, almost as if they would come alive and bite you. “Thank you?”

“Mhm.” 

Quickly swallowing them, you downed the water because coffee wasn’t the best tool for rehydrating, but you’d be damned if you’d give up that mug for anything. Collecting your heels and your coffee, you started walking backwards out of the kitchen. “Listen, I’m gonna head upstairs and get off my—”

“Perfectly good chair right here.” 

“What?” Now you were looking at him as if he’d grown a second head. There were no other chairs in the kitchen. Carol had the only other stool piled full of kitchen junk she had yet to put away. “Are you sure you’re awake?”

“M’wide awake. How’d ya get to Rosita’s last night?” 

Wait. Was Daryl blushing? “She helped—” No, that wasn’t right. Rosita and Tara came back long after you did. You distinctly remembered grumbling at them to turn off the lights. “How did I get there?” You said aloud, though softly.

“I took ya.”

Your shoes hitting the floor echoed through the quiet house, causing both you and Daryl to flinch. After a moment, no baby cried and no adults yelled. You walked forward and placed your mug back on the counter. “What do you mean you took me? You weren’t at the party.”

Cause Daryl’s home. He doesn’t like parties.

He shrugged but the pink tint to his cheeks was now traveling a route up to his ears. “Was workin’ on the bike. Saw ya stumblin’ ‘round in the dark. Didn’t wantcha to get hurt.”

“Did I—did I say anything stupid?”

And if I see him right now, I'm gonna ask to use his face as a chair.

“Nope.” The archer was staring at his coffee cup, rolling the smooth sides between his hands. He absolutely knew what you had said but he was giving you an out. Goddamn that man. He had to be beautiful, rough edged, and chivalrous at the same time? 

“Good.” You nodded. “Good. Thanks for the coffee.” You turned to walk out, leaving the coffee mug behind. “And for—you know, getting me there safely last night.” 

He nodded with a small, tight smile but didn’t say anything else. Maybe he was just teasing you. No, Daryl wasn’t the type. Well, he was but not with things that were at his expense. He was definitely going out of his comfort zone if the red tint on his face was any indication. Did he want to do that with you? You certainly wouldn’t mind. You’d wanted Daryl for as long as you could remember. Even before he started treating the group more like friends than survival buddies. There was always just something about him that called to you, pulled you in like a magnet, but there was this invisible line that didn’t feel safe to cross. Was he toeing that line with you now?

You might never get the chance again if you were to shut him down.

“Hey, Daryl.” You called from the stairs, barely looking over your shoulder. Your heart was racing.

“Yeah?”

“There’s—there’s no chair in my—what’re you—hey!” You were over his shoulder and being hauled down toward his room in the basement before you could do much more than laugh.

“Weren’t no way ya could make any line ‘bout a chair work.”

“Got a bed, right?”

“Got a mattress.”

“That’ll do, Dixon. That’ll do.”

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl dixon twd #daryl #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x female reader #Spotify

[dixonsemoboy]

daryl's sweet little boy 🧸

Daryl woke up to the sound of clinking in the bathroom. It was early in the morning, the sun just starting to rise and shine through the curtains. Nobody was usually up this early.

He shuffled out of bed with a grunt and sauntered to the bathroom, placing his hand on the cold metal knob, twisting it open. There he found his 'girl', face scrunched up, tears running down her chubby baby cheeks, clippers in her hand. Her hair was clumpy and shorter, pieces of it on the floor from where she attempted to cut it.

"Whatcha' doin?" he said out loud, pulling his girl closer by the shoulder, using his thumb to wipe the tears from her eyes.

She sniffled, trying to speak through her tears. "Dada, I don' wanna be a girl," she whimpered, clinging onto Daryl like her life depended on it.

Daryl hummed deeply, pulling him into his chest, stroking his hair to calm him. There was a long string of silence before he spoke. "Here, gimme tha', baby."

He took his face out of Daryl's chest with a sniffle and handed him the clippers, still on and vibrating in his hand.

Daryl took him by his forearm and gently pulled him further into the bathroom, so the mirror was in front of them.

"Stay still, 'kay?" he uttered, putting the clippers up to his boy's hair and starting to shave, chunks of it falling to the tile ground, each stroke making the once nonexistent joy grow bigger in his boy's heart.

Daryl switched the clippers off, the buzzing sound that once fulfilled the room coming to an end. The tears on his boy's face were dry by now, a big smile spread across his baby face.

Daryl smiled back, looking into the mirror and running a hand through his now short hair. "Ya like it?"

"Mhm!"

"Thought ya would, sweet boy."

He was Daryl's boy, and Daryl's boy forever.

inspo: @norman-fucking-reedus

it changes from she to he because you know TRANS, just incase your confused

#i need him as a father figure #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x ftm reader #twd daryl #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x male reader #norman reedus #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon drabble #moodboard #dixonsemoboy

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Warnings: adult consumption of alcohol, sexual innuendo

"Alrigh'... I think it's time to go. Ya've had enough to drink fer both of us," Daryl said, gently grabbing you under the arm and pulling you up to your feet. He nervously wrapped his arm around your back to steady you.

"Orrrr how about you go get us both another drink and we drink together," you said, your words slightly slurred.

Daryl let out a gruff laugh and shook his head. "How 'bout I take ya home," he retorted.

Suddenly you were smiling widely at him and then biting your bottom lip. "Well, I didn't think I'd be drunk for our first time but I'm not gonna turn that down," you said with a smirk.

"W—what? No. What?" Daryl's entire face was burning out to his ears. "No, I meant—I'll take ya to yer house and then—then I'll go to my house. I didn't mean—"

You laughed again lightly. "I know you didn't mean that, Daryl. I'm just kidding... sort of..."

Daryl gulped and tried to draw in a slow breath. His heart was pounding. "Let's just—get ya to a damn bed, okay?"

"Mine or yours?" you joked with another good-natured laugh.

"Christ... just be quiet, would ya?" Daryl growled, going completely red again. But his hand tightened slightly on your waist and he moved in closer to you.

Prompt: "How about I take you home."

#flirty!reader #shy!daryl #always a win #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles

[starshipsofstarlord]

nsfw alphabet

warnings. just a lot of sex discussion, like a hell of a lot

MINORS DNI (18+), I DO NOT CONTROL YOUR CONSUMPTION ON THIS BLOG 👻

divider credits. @cafekitsune

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

it would be the one moment that he held you close, taking a break from all the shit that went on around you, unless you had a quickie on a run, to which he would wipe you off hurriedly with that red rag. he’d like you to play with his hair and have your head on his chest, knowing that any time could be the last time

b = body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

he would definitely like his hands, since he’d be insecure and shy about the scars that covered the rest of his body. daryl would like how big they are in comparison to your own, and all the things that he could do with them (sexually and in general, i.e. like killing walkers, and hunting)

his favourite body part of yours would probably be your lips, for various reasons. it would feel like everything would be okay when you smile, especially if it’s a real and warm smile. and of course, you sent him to a whole other dimension when it was wrapped around his cock, he’d never have experience pleasure like it

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

it would always be a dirty secret of his that he wanted to cum inside you, so fucking badly. but he always referred from doing so due to the risks, and it was hard enough to survive without impregnating you, since anything could go wrong like it did with lori

and so instead he would opt for cumming on your thigh or lower stomach as he would pull out at the last second, and it would usually be your hand finishing him off

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he’d love to see you looking all badass, covered in walker guts, points if you’re angry. it just did something to him that drove him wild, but he kept it to himself, knowing that he would be judged for his admittance. it made him swell with pride (and other things) that you were more than capable of taking care of yourself

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

he’s a fast learner, so he definitely picks up on things quickly, however i would say very little experience (since norman said he played him as though he was a virgin)

he would get so easily embarrassed when it came to anyone talking about sex. there may have been like one or two at the very most drunken hookups that he hardly remembers, but that would be all i think, at the very very most. but he would love to learn to explore your body for the first time, it would be something new and considering how long he held out, he would find every second of your intimacy worth it

f = favourite position (this goes without saying)

for daryl it would most definitely be good ol’ fashioned missionary. he would love to be close to you (and when you first started having sex, have his back facing away from you). but for quickies he would probably have you held in his arms and up against a wall, fucking you as fast as he could so the two of you could reel in the aftershocks of your orgasms

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

at the beginning it would be a little goofy since he was learning, it would feel like you’re two school kids sneaking around and trying to be quiet. daryl would get easily embarrassed if he did anything wrong and that he could improve on, but you’d just gently laugh and tell him to keep going

but after that, he’d grow more serious, and confident. he’d have the goal of making you cum over and over if you had the time for it, other than sneaking around for quickies which would be exciting and make you laugh each time your man would tense up if you heard someone

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

i’d say it matches the ‘drapes’, since there’s not much time for self care in an apocalypse, and the same goes for you, unless you manage to find some disposable razors. he doesn’t care much for trying to trim, as he’s never done so before, and since you’re not fussed he uses all the energy in regards to his cock on you

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

daryl can be quite intimate, considering that sex is something special between the both of you. sure occasionally he fucks you like a madman when he’s stressed, however he always and i mean ALWAYS makes sure that you are enjoying yourself. he watches your every move, to decide how much you can take and what you’re needing. most of the time it’s not just the pleasure from screwing that he craves, but to feel close to you

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

hardly ever, unless you’re watching him or he’s preparing his cock to be sheathed inside of you. there’s not always time for sex and so there’d hardly be time for him to get himself off; however he did find himself doing it more frequently than he ever had in his life before the outbreak the moment that he met you

he needs you, and just to feel close to you, and that’s more than enough.

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

one of daryl’s kinks is a size kink! not only does that man love man handling you and have his hands grasping large portions of your body at once, but he loves to use it to his advantage to tease you. if you’re lifting something particularly heavy, he will be the first to help, watching as his arms contract from the weight, and he finds amusement in the way that lust fill your eyes and how your mouth gapes open

it may not be perceived as a kink, or maybe it will, but he is addicted to you moaning his name. it shows that he is the one making you feel good,and he loves when you vocalise it

other kinks he would have would be spanking you when he’s feeling dominant (he’d only do it lightly, unless he is extra pissed off at you for whatever reason), and he occasionally if he’s feeling frisky will spit in your mouth

l = location (favourite places to do the do)

his favourite place to have sex with you would be your bedroom, away from prying eyes and walkers that could stumble across the two of you fornicating. however every once in a while he’ll take you in a truck if you’re on a supply run with just the two of you, or in your garage if he has a lot to do and is craving a distraction

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

it doesn’t take a lot, although there’s not always time for him to act on his carnal impulses. but if you’re wearing a particularly tight pair of jeans that hug your ass just right, or just a towel after showing, he will seize any opportunity that he has.

another thing that will wind his gears is if another person flirts with you, he has to make it clear that you are his, and nobody could love you like he does. it’s not him being possessive, he’d just rather everyone know that you are a taken woman, and he is the one that you’re committed to

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

the one thing daryl would never ever do is hurt you, any injury as minimal as it could be would be the difference between life and death when you’re outside the walls. a few light spanks here and there are fine, however even if you asked him to smack you around the face in a sex-induced haze, he’d look at you like you were a crazy woman

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

as much as he adores your lips around his cock, he leans towards being a giver rather than a receiver. he could get lost in eating out your pussy, and often times does; he’s like a starved man, and he loves nothing more than giving you pleasure. some people say he’s pussy whipped and he most definitely is but tasting you is one of the best things about sex and foreplay in his opinion

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

it will always depend on his mood, however even when he is being slow and sensual, his pace does increase. it’s a rush when he goes faster to chase your highs, and he loves how you have trouble containing your moans and pleasure filled bellows. and it depends also on which position you are in, though it’s often missionary, if you’re on top he’ll grab at your hips, fucking up into you and controlling your movements

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

quickies happen exceedingly often, especially depending on the amount of work that you have to do. and he enjoys them, and even though he usually prefers to take his time with you, having you fold and crumble as he fucks you on a run. it makes him a little cocky that he has the ability to make you lose your mind in such a short amount of time, and he’ll always tease you after, even if you’re around other people, just to see you get all riled up for the possibility of another round

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

it will 100% depend on what the risk is, but overall he likes to keep things in a routine, sometimes switching the position. he likes exactly what you do together, so he thinks there’s no need to try much else. the one risk that repeats in his mind is cumming inside of you, it’s almost like a primal instinct, but he refrains from doing so as the outcome is enormously risky

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

so so many. at the start he was unable to last long with the feeling of being inside your pussy, but the more the two of you have sex, he is able to last a lot longer. maybe 30-40 minutes if he’s not too riled up. and he’d need to take a quick break between round but he could go like 3/4, and whilst he’s waiting to get hard again, he would either get you both some water or snack on your pussy

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

it’s not the easiest thing to get ahold of in an apocalypse, even if they’d be free considering that stores are no longer open. and it’s definitely not a priority, he is a very hands on man, and would rather make you cum himself. he thinks it’d be hot to maybe have you have a vibrator to stimulate your clit whilst his cocks inside of you, but that’s all really

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

he will tease you until you beg him to fuck you. daryl loves hearing you say that you need him, and often he doesn’t have to do much, sometimes give your hip a squeeze as he passes by you and dragging his hand across your lower back, however he teases more when you’re already undressed. he will tease you until you’re pulling his hair as he blows air over your wet cunt, trying to push his head closer so that his lips make contact with where you need him most. he also likes to run his tip through your folds multiple times before he finally pushes inside of you

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he does try to stifle his moans in case anyone hears, since he knows that they’ll tease him. and he’ll moan the dirtiest things in your ear as he’s fucking you, allowing his breath to hit your neck whilst he buries his face next to your own. his groans are constant though, especially as he gets closer to cumming

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

it may not be that wild, but he loses his mind if you sit on his face. if he could choose how he died, it would definitely be with you sat on his face, so that his lips are buried against your cunt. again, he’s a giver so it’s like his own personal heaven; he just can’t get enough of you and your pussy

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

he has a thick and uncut cock, and his soft bulge is visible through his trousers (iykyk) and when he’s soft he’s about 7 inches, but when he gets going and is hard, his cock grows to be around 7.5-8 inches. he was almost afraid during his first time with you that he’d hurt you, but soon he learns that it brings you such bliss (side note. he always stretches you out just right first), and his eyes roll back when you’re blowing him and choke when his tip hits past the back of your throat

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

it’s a little above average, as much as he loves sex with you, there is nothing better than being married/in a relationship with you, even without the sexual pros. and he can appreciate your body in an innocent way. his drive definitely increases though when he’s stressed or has had a hard day

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

even if he’s tired after a round or few, he can’t fall asleep right away, and so he uses the time whilst he’s awake to clean you up and make sure that you’re comfortable. he also will have some pillow talk with you, where his voice is all gruff, and you’ll play with his hair. he finds it difficult to sleep in general, because all he can think about a good amount of the tune is those that didn’t make it, and he wants the quiet around you to continue until he knows that nothing is going to happen while you sleep - you are his #1 priority, and he just likes to make sure you’re safe

and sometimes the two of you will get mostly dressed and sit outside for a good 20 minutes and have a couple of cigarettes before going back to bed to finally get some rest

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon fic #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd smut #norman reedus smut #norman reedus x reader #daryl x reader #daryl x female reader #daryl x y/n #daryl x you