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celtic-crossbow · 3 days

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Since you said you were looking at requests could you please do something with Dom Daryl with overstimulation, breeding, and cockwarming? Maybe after the savior war trying to get pregnant or any later seasons Daryl? It’s almost 6:30 in the morning so those are just the prompts that came to me first, anything you write with them will be wonderful, thank you 🩷

If I get a Little Prettier, Can I be Your Baby?

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Alexandria (post Savior's War)

Warnings: Poorly written smut; p in v; cockwarming; forced orgasms; overstimulation; a hint of breeding, I guess? A/N: This request has been sitting in my inbox for weeks. Gods, I am so sorry for making you wait! I'm even more sorry that I was all over the place with this so I hope it's just good at all. I tried, Anon! I promise!

©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.

“S’the matter? Thought ya wanted this?”

Daryl was sitting against the headboard, just as bare as you. You straddled his hips, stretched around his cock and had been for—well, you weren’t sure. He had kept you there, softening slightly every once in a while only to press a thumb against your swollen clit to quickly bring you to orgasm. Your convulsing walls brought him to fully hard within seconds. You’d lost count of how many times he’d done it, sometimes not even needing the stimulation. He would be throbbing with just as much need inside of you and still worked at you until you came, shuddering and whimpering his name like a mantra.

“Please, Daryl, I need—”

“Ya need to sit there ‘til I say diff’rent.” His voice was low, gravelly. Stern, even. You felt your cunt clench and his hips jerk. You were so sensitive, yet still craving him. He could work miracles with those fingers but being so full and stretched without feeling him drag along your inner walls was torture. He wasn’t cruel, never. There was a safe word in place, always, no matter who held the reins. Whether out of sheer stubbornness or overwhelming desire, neither of you had ever used it.

“Yes, sir.” You breathed. Your fingers were splayed over his stomach, his muscles twitching with each miniscule movement you made, though you tried to sit stone still.

The battle with the Saviors had been won. Negan was imprisoned. Alexandria was being rebuilt. Everyone was working together and there was, for at least the time being, a feeling of relative peace and safety. While you had never officially married, you had become Mrs. Dixon in every way except on paper, and that didn’t seem to matter much in those days. You and Daryl had talked about a family before, but always seemed to find some reason to deny yourselves. His worries of becoming his father, Wolves, Saviors, and of course, the dead. There was always something.

It wasn’t until Daryl had been locked in Negan’s cell that he came to realize that waiting was futile. The world would never be safe. If you wanted to have children with him, he loved you enough to travel that road with you. He’d love his children because they were a part of both of you.

This? This was the first session in what would be many “practice runs.” Or maybe one time would be all it would take.

“You’re bein’ such a good girl. Wanna cum for me again?” He smirked, tucking your hair behind your ear and letting that finger carve a trail down over your collarbone, circling your left breast before he pinched and rolled your nipple. You gasped and arched your chest toward him, making him hiss when your hips shifted.

“S—sorry, sir.” You gasped, breathing heavily from just that slight stimulation. If he fucked you now, you feared you’d cum so quickly that it’d be embarrassing. From the twinkle in his eye, it didn’t seem like you were going to have a choice. You let out a squeak as he flipped you to your back, never separating from you but punching a moan from you both with the slight friction.

“Think I’ve had enough’a toyin’ around. How ‘bout we get to work on puttin’ a baby in that belly?” Pressing his mouth to yours in a sloppy kiss, a dance of tongues and teeth, he hooked the back of your right knee over the crook of his elbow and rolled his hips. You pulled back from him, lest you bite his lip, which he’d honestly probably rather enjoy. Another deep thrust saw your hips rising to meet his. He didn’t stop you or reprimand you, so it was safe to say this was all about the endgame.

“Fuck, you feel good.” You whined with your nails scratching over his shoulders, red marks all the way to where you settled your hands on his ribs.

“Yeah?” He knew the answer, even if he did make the next snap of his hips a little rougher. Raising your head, you nuzzled your cheek against his and placed your mouth against his ear.

“Don’t hold back.” You whispered, licking the lobe and then the spot where his pulse raced. Daryl growled, letting your leg drop. When he reached up to grab the top of the headboard with one hand and then the other, you knew you were about to get absolutely ruined.

And couldn’t have been more turned on by the thought.

With a smirk of your own, you chose to let your legs fall open as wide as they could, almost to the point of painful. You were soon digging your nails right into his buttocks. It started with a cadence of rough snaps, his pelvic bone and the coarse hair above his cock slapping against your oversensitive clit. He chuckled above you, knowing exactly why you were making those sinful little noises. Your humiliatingly slick cunt squelched with each push and pull of his cock, only adding to the debauchery that could potentially be heard by the others in the house.

You only dug your fingers in harder, drawing up your knees but keeping your legs wide open. “Come on, Dixon.” You panted, biting back a cry when the next thrust made you see stars. “I thought you wanted to fuck a baby into me. Put in a little effort.”

It was that moment, you knew you had fucked up.

Daryl went motionless, looking down at you through that curtain of sweaty, dark hair. He had one brow arched. He never let go of the headboard but leaned down between his arms until he was nose to nose with you, the most deliciously wicked smirk lifting one corner of his mouth.

“Ya better hold on tight, Sunshine.”

The first thrust shunted you straight up to the headboard, one hand releasing its hold on his ass to slap palm down against the wood and protect the top of your head. And then he was absolutely ruthless. Fucking feral. He used his hold on the headboard as leverage and fucked you at a pace you’d never experienced. Soon, you had let go of him altogether, both palms planted firmly against the smooth surface above you. You couldn’t stop shouting long enough to even let him know you were cumming. Once, twice. A third sparking to life low in your belly. His grunts and groans above you were just fucking delectable and you distantly wished you could focus on the sounds your pussy was coaxing out of him but the feeling of him just absolutely splitting you in two took precedence.

“‘Nough effort for ya?” He panted, slowing only slightly, just enough for you to see him scanning you for any signs that you wanted to stop, that you needed to use the safeword. You scoffed at him. However, you couldn’t seem to speak, so close to yet another orgasm. You saw his grip loosen, knew he was getting concerned, so you communicated your consent by flattening your feet on the mattress and rolling your hips up to take him deeper, both of you groaning. He worked his way back to the same brutal pace, his cock swelling and twitching inside of you. He was close.

You were closer.

Drawing in enough breath, somehow assembling enough presence of mind, you moaned out “I’m—I’m close—Please—”

Daryl grunted, dropping down from the headboard with a hand on either side of your head. “Let go, Sunshine.” He commanded through gritted teeth. “Fuck, m’gonna cum.” You had just felt the first tendrils of pleasure rip from your core when he thrust twice more, stilling against you and holding himself deep with a guttural moan, his muscles spasming and body trembling. “Fuck!” You were too lost on whatever cloud he’d sent you to, your eyes rolled back and mouth agape. Your chest was arched into him until you felt the burn in your muscles suddenly dissipate and you collapsed to the mattress, his name falling from your lips like a mantra.

Daryl was still thrusting into you lazily, dragging out both of your orgasms until you just couldn’t take anymore and twisted your hips to the side with a whine. He let you lie down flat again before gently, slowly pulling out of you, barely moving himself over before he collapsed into a trembling heap. You could feel his cum leaking out of you, burning as it slid across the flesh of your abused cunt.

It never failed that no matter how fucked out he was himself, your well-being came first. Rolling his head toward you, he gave you a once over. “Y’alright? Did I hurtcha? Ya didn’t say—”

“I’m so good that I don’t think I’m ever coming back down to earth, thanks.” You blinked lazily at the ceiling before turning your head, letting it lull toward him to meet his eyes with a lopsided smile. “My god, Daryl Dixon, you just rocked my world.”

God, you loved it when he blushed. He could be an absolute beast in bed—as he had just proven—and then go red as a tomato—as he currently was. Licking his lips slowly, he turned to admire the ceiling at the same time you did.

“I’ll get up in a minute an’ get us cleaned up.” He was finally starting to sound like he had found his lungs and put them back in their rightful place. You lazily waved a hand. “Are ya really alright?”

You nodded, smiling stupidly once again. “I may not walk right for a few days.” You moved with a wince. “In fact, when you get up to get that towel, can you grab me a wheelchair? I think you dislocated my vagina.”

Daryl, of course, looked mortified. “Oh, come on. I’m fine. Just a little sore.” Propping up on your elbows, you grinned at him. “Besides, payback’s a bitch and next time, it’s my turn.” He mumbled christ under his breath and rolled off the bed, staggering toward the bathroom while you stared intently at the perfect round of his ass. “I’ll find the blindfold and handcuffs tomorrow!”

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon request #anon request #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #the walking dead daryl dixon #daryl #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl x female reader #daryl dixon x female reader

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thoughtless-muse · 3 days

Text

“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

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d1xonss · 2 days

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H EY could you possibly write a fic where the readers been on some heat the whole day just overall pissed, then there’s a fight outbreak in Alexandria and everyone crowding around & people calling Daryl so he comes, just to realise it’s his girl and he has to restrain her, pulling her away so she doesn’t continue beating the shit out of whoever and she’s MAD so he has to calm her down and gets her to just talk to him so he can help her. Just a thought yk 😛

Sticks and Stones

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 5

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : Fluff

✧ Word Count : 3k

AN ~ I like this idea a lot! Just the thought of Daryl helping her clean up and take care of her after something like this just makes me melt. ps- Sorry for the inactiveness lately, April has already been such a crazy month for me and I've sadly had little to no time to write. But I'll definitely start getting back on track soon. Hope you enjoy!

The weather was hot, sticky, and humid. Your hair was a frizzy mess, sticking up everywhere as you worked in the miserable weather. You were sweating in places you didn’t even think were possible to sweat from. Bottom line was, you were miserable.

The bad mood that was embedded in you only seemed to grow as the day dragged on longer and longer. It was bad enough that your group joined this new community in the first place, having to live with all of these complete strangers after everything you had been through with your family. But what seemed to make it even worse, was this community had some high expectations upon your arrival. The leader, Deanna, made it very clear that she wanted each and every one of you working like dogs in order to do your part just like everyone else.

Meanwhile her sons were sitting in their air conditioned houses without lifting a damn finger.

Though you didn’t mind putting in the work, in fact, that was all you did your whole life. You were never handed a damn thing, needing to learn to find your own way in life and work for everything you got instead of being spoiled rotten. But again, you didn’t mind. The only thing that bugged you was that there were clearly a few favorites that got special treatment. Though you weren’t just talking about Deanna’s sons.

For the past couple of days you had been scheduled to work with a small group of others that you tried to play nice with. And for the most part, they all seemed friendly enough, willing to pitch in and do the part they were told to complete. Everyone…except for this one bitch who seemed to love getting a rise out of you.

You didn’t know her name, you couldn’t be bothered to learn it. But that didn’t mean the urge for punching her in her stupid, fake ass face wasn’t growing the longer you were in the same vicinity. She didn’t do a damn thing other than tell every other person what to do. And she always seemed to make it her mission to get under your skin at least once a day to really add to your sour mood, really wanting to see how far she could push you. But you, of course, always did nothing. It’s not because you weren’t capable of defending yourself, but you knew even one screw up could get you, and possibly the rest of your family kicked out of here.

You didn’t want to take that chance. After all, this whole opportunity and hard work was the chance to prove that you were all worthy to stay within the thick, sturdy walls they had built. You didn’t want to screw it up for yourself, but you especially didn’t want to screw it up for anyone else. Which is why you kept to yourself for the most part, only smiling politely to the ones who showed you even an ounce of kindness as they passed by with a friendly greeting. Other than that your eyes just stayed down, in hopes that somehow the day would go by faster that way.

You and a few others were currently in the large garden that was placed practically directly in the middle of the community, instructed to pick the fruits and vegetables that were ripe enough to bring back to the pantry. The job was simple enough, knowing that when this last basket of yours was full, you would take everything back, wash them off, and place them in the right sections before finally heading back to your new home. You could practically hear the cool shower calling your name from all the way over here.

Though subconsciously, your gaze traveled up a few different times to keep an eye out for Daryl, seeing if he was maybe passing the area. You didn’t necessarily know the job he was given for the day, but what you did know was that it was hot as fuck outside. And seeing Daryl with his arms exposed, the signature leather vest, and sweat glistening off of him…the sight would surely make your day ten times better than how it was going.

But everytime you did a subtle scan, he was nowhere to be found, and you couldn’t help but sigh a bit dramatically as all you wanted was to take him home and use that last bit of energy you had left.

“Hey!”

You were snapped out of your lustful daze suddenly when you heard a familiar voice from the other end of the space, seeing the one blonde bitch who wouldn’t get off your back, her face scowling into a glare.

You raised your arms up from your slightly crouched position, “What?”

“I can see you slacking off from all the way over here, get back to work!” she called with her hands sassily on her hips.

You sent her a bitter smile before ducking your head back down in attempts to pull yourself together, “Oh, I’ll get back to work.” you spoke under your breath, “Work on shoving this foot up your ass.” you grumbled as you began picking a few more ripe strawberries.

A few minutes of peace passed, moving down the line as you scanned for any more things that were ready to be picked off the vine. Your small basket sat by your feet as it was nearly filled to the brim with the amount of fruit you collected over the past hour or so. That is…until it wasn’t.

Out of the corner of your eye you could see someone’s shadow coming from your left as whoever it was seemed to just be passing by. But the sound of their foot coming in contact with the wooden basket right beside you is what caused your gaze to snap up, already knowing who the hell it was. Her blonde hair blowing behind her as she didn’t even stop to look at the mess she made was kind of a dead giveaway.

You shot up to your feet as annoyance began to quickly overtake you, causing you to open your mouth before you even got a chance to think twice. “What the fuck?” you called after her.

She turned around on instinct, as if she was expecting you to say something, a small smirk on her face as she shrugged. “What?”

You pressed your lips together as your annoyance grew, stepping up closer to her so you could keep the conversation quiet, “What the hell is your problem? You don’t think I can tell you’re doing this shit on purpose?”

“Oh I know you can.” she said with a bitchy tilt of her head, her arms coming to cross over her chest, “I’m just wondering when the fuck you’re going to get a clue.”

“Well, why don’t you just spell it out for me, because I’m getting pretty tired of dealing with the same bullshit from you.” you stated bluntly.

She scoffed, “You and your grubby little group don’t belong here.” she spat harshly, “None of you are what we need for this community, in fact, you’re only tearing us down. I don’t even know why Deanna let you people in here in the first place.”

Her words caused your eyebrows to fly up in utter surprise. You expected her to attack you, shoot insults directed toward you. But you never expected in a million years that she would have the audacity to go after your family the way she did with little to no reason at all.

And in the end, that’s what pushed you over the edge as you laughed at her, not needing to come up with a single response as you had a few other things in mind.

Daryl was on the other end of the community, patrolling around the streets when he heard the sudden commotion. At first he couldn’t quite pinpoint what was going down, only seeing a swarm of people flooding toward one area where lots of shouts and panicked voices were coming from. Curiosity eventually got the better of him as his brows furrowed in confusion, his pace picking up as he approached the gardens, opening the white gates to step inside.

His eyes squinted as he could tell there was some sort of fight breaking out, the people surrounding them either cheering them on, or trying to rip them apart. He leaned from side to side, trying to see who was in the middle of it all as he silently prayed he was wrong about what he originally assumed. But then there was a small parting in the crowd, allowing him to catch a glimpse in between them, and his face dropped.

Some random guy was holding you back as you attempted to hit the blonde girl at the other end of the circle they created, clawing out of his grip every so often to get another swing in while she cried. Daryl then didn’t waste another second, harshly shoving his way through the crowd to get to you in attempts to stop you from doing anymore damage. It was almost like he couldn’t get to you fast enough, either that, or you were just quick when it came to nearly tearing her head off.

“Hey!” he shouted once he was close enough, pulling you out of the man’s grasp in attempts to hold you back himself, “Stop!”

You hardly even heard his voice, your ears ringing as you continued to try and pry his hands off of you, desperately trying to swing again as the woman sobbed. Her nose bloody and a bruise forming on her right cheek. She clearly couldn’t fight for shit considering she had such a big mouth.

Daryl groaned as he yanked you back harshly, “Damnit (Y/N), I said stop!” he shouted once more, his voice enough to silence everyone in an instant.

The familiar voice then finally registered with you as well, whipping your head around quickly to see him, smoke nearly coming out of his ears. Your face softened as you instantly came to the realization of the damage you just caused, the potential outcome of your actions suddenly terrifying you.

Your head shook slightly as you tried to speak, “I-”

“Get back to the house.”

His tone was firm, but somehow still held a bit of gentleness. You sighed as you took yourself out of his hold, not needing to be told twice as you slowly began to walk out of the crowded area. Now seeing the amount of people that witnessed your meltdown, you suddenly wanted to crawl into a hole and die, feeling all their watchful eyes on you as Daryl quickly ushered you the rest of the way out. The last thing you barely caught a glimpse of, was a few others crowding around the blonde as she continued to cry her eyes out with her beaten face.

There wasn’t a single word spoken between the two of you. Just silence. And it was killing you.

He didn’t utter a word, only gesturing you into the bathroom for you to sit at the edge of the tub, before pulling out a first aid kid from the closet. Your brows furrowed in confusion as she hadn’t laid a hand on you, but then your eyes traveled down to your own hands, seeing how cut up and bloody they were. The pain hadn’t even registered to you, you hardly felt the sting at all as if your adrenaline was still pumping fast through your system.

Daryl wordlessly kneeled down in front of you, taking your hands with such softness in his touch as he cleaned you up with precision. You could tell he was trying to be as careful as he could, despite the fact that he was probably upset. Hell, the whole group would probably be upset with you for a while, over something that you could now never take back. Something that you could never undo. All because you couldn’t keep your head on straight.

You were forced to think about it even more as the silence only lingered, playing the imagines back over and over again in your mind. You wanted to say it was worth it, to see her actually get somewhat of a taste of her own bitter medicine, knowing now she would probably never fuck with you again. But the fate of the future, what would come next, still weighed heavily on you as it was clearly unknown.

You then sighed softly as you looked down at him, “I…I’m sorry.” your voice spoke barely above a whisper.

He nodded as he kept his eyes down, finishing up your left hand as he wrapped it in some bandages, “I know ya are.”

“You don’t know the things she was saying…what she’s been doing ever since we fucking got here. God…I know I shouldn’t have taken it that far, but that bitch got what she deserves, trust me.” you spoke bitterly, trying to convince yourself more than you were trying to convince him.

Daryl’s eyes then glanced up to you, a small smile on his lips as he nodded again, “I know.”

Your brows furrowed in both confusion and surprise, “You’re…you’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad?” he asked, his voice a lot more gentle than it was before. But then again you could only assume it was all just the heat of the moment.

You shook your head softly, “I don’t know…” you muttered, glancing down to your hands as you slightly examined them, mostly to avoid his eyes as you knew he would be able to see right through you.

And he did. His brows furrowed as a few seconds of silence passed before he spoke again, “Yeah ya do. You just don’t wanna say it.”

A heavy sigh passed through your lips as you looked back up at him, “I just…I know that doing that was a big mistake.”

His eyes softened as he heard the timidness in your tone, “Everyone makes mistakes, sweetheart.” he said as he raised his hand to tuck some hair behind your ear, “It’s alright.”

“No…that’s not what I mean.” you said with a shake of your head, “I…I fucked up…I fucked up everything. Once Deanna finds out what happened, once she finds out that we can’t work with her people, she’ll kick us out. And then we’ll be back on the road without any food, or water, or anything. We barely made it last time, I-”

“Hey.” Daryl interrupted you softly, raising his hands to gently grip your forearms, “What are ya talkin about? None of that’s gonna happen.”

“But she’s already weary of us, we’re the big, scary outside people. The second she realizes that we won’t be able to fit in here, there’s no way she’ll let us stay.”

The man in front of you couldn’t help but smirk, which at first confused you, but then you found yourself rolling your eyes. “The big, scary outside people?” he repeated with a light chuckle.

You gave him a pointed look, “This is serious.”

“I know, I know.” he assured, “But I also know you’ve been bustin yer ass damn near everyday tryin to prove that you can be trusted here. That we can be trusted here. So…I think right now, you just need to take a second and breathe…okay?”

You stared at him for a moment before swallowing a bit thickly and nodding your head, taking a deep breath in attempts to calm your nerves. It felt like your brain was scattered all over the place and you knew he was right in saying that you just needed to fucking chill out for a second. You still had your worries about the outcome, but for some reason the longer you looked at the man sitting in front of you, the more those thoughts started to disappear.

After a few moments of silence, you felt him gently squeeze your arms again as he hadn’t taken his eyes off of you, “Ya got pretty worked up back there, killer. And I don’t think this stress and worryin is helpin. We’re here for a reason…to have a fighting chance. And you just gotta trust that over time, everythin’s just gonna work itself out…no matter what.”

He was so confident in his words, it made you want to feel confident too. It made you want to believe that this would all pass, and you didn’t completely screw up this opportunity like you assumed. Though there was still something else on your mind.

“But what about the fight? I mean…I messed her up pretty bad.”

He simply shrugged, “Good.”

Your eyebrows raised in slight shock, “What?”

“That bitch got what was coming to her. Truth is, ever since ya told me about what’s been goin on, I’ve been dyin for ya to knock some damn sense into her. If anything, I wanted to cheer you on.” he winked.

You couldn’t help but laugh, “Well, you always have been my biggest supporter…” you trailed off as you looked down toward your hands again, “And the best doctor around.”

He hummed with a small smile before grasping your hands gently, raising them up to his mouth to leave a few kisses on the back of your bandaged knuckles as if to seal the healing process.

You smiled a little to yourself at his actions, “So…you really think we’ll be okay?”

“We’ll be just fine.” he muttered as he placed one final kiss on your skin, “It’ll breeze over, people will move on. Cause I think they all kinda know she was the problem to begin with.”

“God, I hope so.” you scoffed, “And even though I kinda lost it…it felt good.” you admitted almost a bit sheepishly.

He chuckled as he pulled at your hands a little, helping you stand back up to your feet as he did, “Looked pretty good too.” he confirmed as he held you close, placing a kiss on top of your head. “I think you could use some kinda award for doin that.”

You smirked as you looked up at him, “Well…I could use a massage.”

He smiled right back at you as he nodded, “Done.”

~ Thanks for reading!

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mvth3r · 2 days

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thinking about late night conversations over card games in alexandria…

cw: 18+ MDNI, p-in-v sex, alcohol consumption

a/n: quick drabble that took over my brain while i was procrastinating on my paper for class, oops!

finding alexandria and joining the community was a real blessing, even with how tumultuous the group’s early days had been.

not because it was an impenetrable fortress, or because their worries had completely disappeared, no.

alexandria allowed them to slow down, and work their bodies out of the constant fight or flight they’d grown accustomed to on the road. now, well settled and strengthening the community every day, they were able to partake in some old world joys.

every now and then, after all the kids, including a begrudging carl, had gone to bed and all the day’s duties were finished, the grown folks would pull out a couple old bottles of wine to share and a deck of cards that someone had discovered in the kitchen’s junk drawer.

it was a stress reliever, you thought, to be sitting around the table with your people, sipping on something red and smooth and telling jokes and stories over an easy game of spades. mostly, it reminded you of your college days, cracking open cheap beers with your homegirls after a hard week of coursework, especially when the alcohol started to kick in and mouths started running.

like tonight.

you and rosita were hitting the wine a little hard, both of you having been gone the last few days on a run that hadn't panned out to be worth the trouble. you were two glasses deep to rosita's three while everyone else was still nursing their first.

the cards had been dealt over and over by this point, with the losing team leaving the table for the next pair to have a turn. you and michonne were currently duking it out with rick and carol, who were unfortunately wiping the floor with you.

you tossed a card to the center, watching rick swipe up the pile shortly after, and met his smirk with a teasing glare, "you been countin' cards or something?"

rick laughed, chocolate curls bouncing as he shook his head, "this ain’t blackjack."

"or poker," carol added, sharp eyes shining with mirth as she looked over her hand, "don't pout."

before you could snark back at the older woman, rosita was strolling over to the table to lean down beside you, her cup making a dull thunk as she placed it on the wooden table.

you looked at her curiously, a fond smile curling your lips, "yeah? what's up, rose?"

"welllll..." she began, dragging out the word for dramatics, "i wanted to ask you something, and you have to be honest!"

tara was making her way over to the table behind her, a blush apparent on her cheeks as she hissed, "i didn't actually mean-"

rosita barreled on, ignoring her, "tara and i have been wondering... you and daryl have been together for a while right?"

the mention of his name caught daryl's attention from where he'd been leaning against the kitchen island, talking to morgan. he looked over at you and rosita with an eyebrow raised.

you mirrored his look of confusion, raising your glass to take a sip of wine as you nodded slowly.

rick, michonne, and carol were also tuned into the conversation at this point, their cards discarded face down onto the table in front of them.

rosita smiled at you wickedly, lowering her voice in a fake attempt at whispering, "we were wondering if the sex was good."

everyone started talking at once, tara being the loudest, nearly shouting, "she! she was wondering, not we!"

your head fell forward into your hands, groaning. you could hear maggie and glenn laughing from the other side of the room while rick chuckled into his glass.

a blush heated your skin as the teasing started. michonne was goading you for an answer, leaning into the antics along with carol, who had put on a fake disgusted look despite the barely restrained laughter making her lips twitch.

“go on,” rosita urged, giggling right next to you, “we wanna know!”

you looked over at daryl, shocked to find him not only looking back at you, but also fighting a smile of his own. his hand rubbed over his goatee to hide it, but you saw right through him.

he was enjoying this. what a bastard.

you were sure you couldn’t get any warmer in the cheeks, and you shook your head in disbelief.

“this is so ridiculous,” you muttered, reaching for the cards you had set down earlier, but rick’s hand came down before you could grab them.

“rick, seriously?” you questioned, shooting him a dirty look.

all he did was smile indulgently, hand still pressing your cards firmly to the table. it was a testament to the good mood of the evening that rick was also willing to participate in this madness.

“out with it!” maggie crowed, “she isn’t the only one wondering!”

at that, carol finally lost her cool, trying and failing to muffle her chuckles with her palm.

michonne shot you a wink across the table, “don’t be embarrassed, we’re all adults here.”

“oh my god,” you muttered, raising your hands to cover your eyes and cheeks in exasperation, “it’s fine! the sex is just fine.”

rosita nodded with a strangely serious expression, “thank you for that information.”

you swatted at her with a groan as she headed away, back to the living room with tara.

rick finally released your cards and you gathered them back up swiftly, eyes trained on them as you tried to get back into the game, “you’re all the worst.”

a few more laughs floated across the table as you all settled back into the game.

glancing over at daryl, you felt your face grow warm all over again. you had expected to see neutrality, or maybe even a little discomfort. it’s not like you and daryl having sex was a secret, you just didn’t know how he felt about it being broadcasted.

but instead, all you could see was humor. whether at the situation or you, you couldn’t tell, but you were sure you’d find out soon enough.

—

“jus’ fine, huh?” daryl voice was sex rough in your ear, and so close that you could feel the puffs of his breath, “the sex is jus’ fine?”

he thrusted into you lazily, your hips slotting against each others over and over. you hands slid over his clothed chest, trying to urge him to move faster. the pace was maddening, you needed more.

once the card games had wrapped up and everyone turned in, daryl had led you right down to his room and stripped our clothes off at the threshold. you knew it was about your earlier comments, but you also knew he wasn't upset, not really. he was just poking fun in his own way.

now though, you were convinced he was punishing you.

daryl wasn’t even naked like you were, having only unzipped his jeans and slid them down an inch or two to free himself.

you were tucked underneath his larger form, arms and legs both coming up to wrap around him. you didn't have an answer for him, you didn't know what to say.

his lips dragged over your jaw, and you could feel the curve of his smile, "didn't think you was a liar. why you ain't tell 'em the truth?"

his next thrust was rougher, nailing against your g-spot perfectly, sending your head back as you moaned.

your brain was fuzzy, only thinking about how good you felt, and how you needed more.

"answer me, girl," daryl grunted teasingly, "you ain't wanna tell 'em how good i fuck you?"

you shook your head, words coming out breathy as you spoke, "no, i just didn't know what to say, daryl, please!"

he hummed appreciatively, "you ain't wanna tell 'em how you beg for my cock?"

you whimpered helplessly, eyes closing.

daryl chuckled quietly, "that's alright. next time you will, won't ya?"

before you could answer, he was speeding up again, his thrusts knocking the breath out of your lungs. your hands came up to his hair, tugging on it in your delirium. you could feel your orgasm building in your gut already, but you weren't surprised given the edging you'd already endured.

daryl could feel your walls clenching around his cock like a vice, a ragged moan falling from his throat.

he leaned down closer to you, mouth beside your ear again as he whispered, "yeah, you will."

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

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louifaith · 2 days

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Thinking about Daryl with the “crying when someone shows them love” trope

You're on the sofa with Daryl lying on your chest. It had been a tough week for both of you. Gently, you brush his hair, holding him close to you, and then you whisper, “I love you.” It's not the first time you've said it, and it's not as if you don't say it often, but this time, he starts to cry at first, it's just tears, but then he begins to sob, clinging tightly to you. You give him a moment before ask what's wrong, but he doesn't answer. So, you just hold him close, hoping that it's enough.

#daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon headcanon #daryl dixon headcanons #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd daryl dixon

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snailss · 2 days

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EASY STREET SERIES MASTERLIST

summary: 2 months after the herd, you fall pregnant. You and Daryl don't know what to think, however you feel blessed with the timing of it all. Alexandria's walls finished rebuilding, and Alexandria just recently joined an alliance with the group named 'Hilltop'. What perfect timing, you think.

Too perfect.

WARNINGS: Torture, murder, major character death, SPOILERS, pregnancy, smut, Negan, TV canonical violence, more to be added.

Prologue - coming soon!

Series Taglist: @clairealeehelsing @celtic-crossbow @wabi-sabi1090 @l0kilaufeys0n7 @daryldixmedown

@holb32

@dixons-sunshine

@starshipsofstarlord

@bigbaldheadname

@aerischan90

@lettersfromyourlove

@lothiriel9

@avabh12

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fluff #twd #writers on tumblr #the walking dead #easy street #norman reedus #coming soon :)#fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction

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star-wrote · 1 day

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Showering with Daryl

(images from pinterest, not mine)

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon smut #daryl x female reader #twd daryl #twd #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon headcanon #daryl x you #daryl dixon moodboard #moodboard

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hidtired · 3 days

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A Single Punch [Part 3]

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Description: The line up ended with people thinking you died. However, your recovering at Hilltop with severe injury's. How will people react to seeing you again?

2.6k words

Warnings (much angst, injury, near death, depression, recovery, typical walking dead shenanigans) [Happy ending, fluff <3]

(Daryl Dixon x Reader) Masterlist

Your POV

"They took Daryl as their prisoner."

That sentence replay in your mind as you lay in bed that night. You had no idea what they were doing to him. Not even if he was breathing in the same moment you were. He doesn't even know you still are. You had to bite down on your tongue to prevent you from getting emotional. You were struggling to exist. Adding this mental pain onto the physical, you would never recover if something happened to him. You wouldn't have the strength to try and become better.

You would die of a broken heart.

The pain medication giving to you is what put you to sleep. Waking up foggy, still with a weird compression feeling in your neck. People had started their days already. You stared as people were getting ready for the morning. You proceeded to stretch trying to regain control of your body again. You heard Sasha and Rosita talking outside, "Then let me come with you, its stupid to go alone.'' You were confused, but what else is new. But, it sounded like they were going to do something they weren't supposed to.

Sasha had promised to help wash your hair in the sink yesterday. So when she came to keep that promise you questioned her. She was preparing the area you were going to use to wash your hair (Hopefully removing whatever blood that the last time didn't.) "Where are you going?" Sasha had turned to you towel in hand, "What are you talking about? I'm not going any where, we are washing your hair." She seemed to think you were confused but your expression remained blank, "With Rosita..." Sasha pursed her lips, "You heard us talking earlier." She stated it in realization. She sighed before helping you to lay your head in the sink.

Warm water was flowing down your scalp, a relief to you. Sasha began while running her fingers in your hair, carful of the stitches. "You can't tell anybody... I just can't- can't live with it. He need to pay for what he did." You sat there and listened, she wanted revenge, closer. You released a long breath, "I don't like it. Think- of the conseq-quences. Act on here-" You pointed to your brain, "not here..." your hand rested above your heart. "I know this one is much louder." You looked up at her with sad eyes. She simply looked away for a second. You continued, "No one else, we are losing no one else." Then is when she looked down at you, "Lets get your hair dry and get a new bandage on." You only sighed but complied.

She was probably hoping you world forget what you had heard. Just because you didn’t talk most of the time didn’t mean you weren’t getting better. You felt like you were at the point of having clear cognitive abilities. Your struggle was in having your brain controlling your body. You would tell your foot to move and it would, it just wouldn’t get to where you thought it told you it was. Maggie walked in frustrated about something but you had to tell her to talk to Sasha and Rosita.

“Maggs?”

You had startled her out of her thoughts, “You need something Y/N?” She approached you while looking you over for something wrong. You could only hold your head down ashamed, Sasha said not to say anything but you couldn’t let it go. “Could you check on-n Sasha? She and Rosita, planning something…” Maggie stood there confused before realizing what they could be planning. So without a word she ran out the door to look for them.

She returned later explaining Enid told her they had already left. Jesus was going after them though. Now you could only hope they were going to be ok.

You had asked Enid to help you outside to a bench. You wanted to be near if they came back. Also maybe because the trailer was driving you mad. You could tell it was getting late with the temperature slowly dropping. The book you were reading had lost your interest. You stared out watching everyone go about there days. You hadn’t thought much about Negan. The thirst for his blood that many seemed to have. You’re sure if you sat and lingered on it you would. For now it was still a thought of terror. You would dream about the feeling of the bat. Only on nights the meds started to fade and your headache only fueled the sensation.

Then Daryl would swirl around in your head. He was shot the last you saw him. Even worse he could only think you were dead like everyone else thought. Knowing him he was having guilt eating him alive. About you and Glenn. You’ve seen how he gets with grief. You could only hope he didn’t do something stupid.

The sunset reminded you they weren’t coming back today. You attempted to get up before older lady was at your side helping you. It was frustrating being so dependent. The was no use pushing the help away because you did need it. You sulked while laying down in bed. You didn’t talk for the rest of that night going to bed early.

You woke up before anyone. You slowly moved to get out of bed. Taken small slow steps leaning on anything near you. You had managed to get out slowly closing the door. You didn’t trust going down the steps so you sat down going down that way. Making your way back to that bench all by yourself took a good half hour. The cold air was slightly warming with the sun peaking over the hills. The cold was welcome, you preferred it better then the constant burning in your aching body.

Enid was the one to wake up seeing you gone and alerting Maggie. She had found you at the bench. She feared you had fallen somewhere. She sat opposite of you, “You should had woken one of us.” Looking at her seeing the expression of someone tired and lost. “I got here, eventually.” She only looked at you displeasingly. You smiled at her before choking out,

“I’m sorry-y my current existence was at the expense of Glenn’s.”

She looked shocked, “That’s not how it-“ you were waving your hand slowly waving her off, “It’s true, I’m just telling you I won’t let it go to waste. He was one of the good things left in the world and I’ll do right by him.” It was the first semi clear thing you’ve said your entire recovery. Despite it being slower and more forced out, it was firm and decisive. Maggie stared at you with tears in her eyes, placing her hand on yours and squeezing it. She nodded, “Thank you.” The rumbling in the distance broke the moment. Maggie stood and listening closely, “It could be the Saviors again.” She ran to get up onto the watch platform.

As the sound got closer it achingly sounded like Daryl’s bike. Maggie was yelling to open the gates. You stood and slowly made your way around a corner again leaning on anything to help you. The gates were wide open as a bike and two figures on them got off. It was Daryl… he was here. He is right there! Your slow steps soon turned faster and more wobbly. You started to cry. He was getting hugged by Maggie oblivious to your presence. You ran out of things to keep your balance but continued on sloppily. Your cry’s turn louder as you yell,

“DARYL!”

Your sobbing now- struggling to catch a breath even. You couldn’t get there fast enough. Daryl quickly turned at the voice. Your brain moving too fast for your body, caused you to fall to your hand and knees. But you still try and crawl.

Daryl POV

Earlier

Daryl was making his attempt to escape again. With the key that was slipped under the door, he was headed to his bike after finding some cloths and Ricks gun in Dwight’s room. The place was empty, until a larger man rounded the corner with food in his hand. Fat Joey he had heard them call him. He startled when they made eye contact. He lifted his hands in a surrender, “L-look man I didn’t see anything, you could just go I won’t say anything.” But Daryl angrily approached the him. “No! No wait!” Daryl had beaten him into the floor. Something caught his attention from the corner of his eye. Another person, he stopped looking over to the presence.

He straightens in surprise, “Jesus?”

Jesus was as surprised to see him to. Daryl looked rough, and if the way he just watched him beat that man to death, wasn’t doing the best emotionally. He seemed on edge, and most notably animalistic. Daryl waved him over to the bike, “We gotta go.” Daryl was fiddling to start the bike as Jesus approached him. He seemed sporadic, maybe that’s why he didn’t mention anything about you. The man was already at level ten no need to push him further.

The ride to Hilltop took them until morning light to break. The gate opened and Daryl seeing Maggie made him feel like a hole had appeared under him and the only voice that could have possibly pulled him out of it rung out through the air.

“DARYL!”

Now

He had turned to see if he imagined it. He saw you struggling to make your way over. He first thought that like how Rick hallucinated Lori, he was doing with you. But regardless he ran the rest of the way you couldn’t as you fell. He was breathing hard and tears were streaming down his bruised face. He reached down to pull you to your feet. He caught a glimpse of your face seeing a bandage rapped around your head. He was in disbelief as he held you. You had crumpled into him. Your casted arm going around him as your other found his hair pushing him closer to you. Daryl’s voice held a tremble, “How is this possible.”

You choked down a gasp of air before talking, “You punched him…” You pulled back to look at his face. Hand removing from his hair to caress his cheek.

“I didn’t intend to play dead but did. I passed out- and- and then heard- took y-you.” Your speech was turning more slurred harder you tried to talk. It was obvious you were struggling to keep up with yourself. Daryl could only stare. Overwhelmed by the feelings flooding through him. After feeling like he had his entire being ripped from his body, only for it to appear back to him. ‘His punch?’ He couldn’t care to think of why you were in front of him just that you were. He wasn’t a religious man by any means but he was thankful to whatever had made you fallen back into his arms.

You were crying at a small whimper now when Maggie approached putting a hand to your back. “Shhh, you have to calm down Y/N, let’s get you laid down.” Daryl was dazed, still struggling to comprehend if this was real. Maybe a dream? Was he still in his cell? He had a good look at you now. Your face all kinds of colors. Your skin pale with bags under your red eyes. You moved almost like a toddler. Just like how Judith would try to sass him and walk leading her tripping at the inability to multitask. You were in obvious pain. You had yet to pull away from him. He looked to Maggie with a panicked and questioning look, “Is she okay, how hurt is she?” He moved to sweep you by the legs to pick you up bridal style. He didn’t even care for the pain in his shoulder from the gun shot.

Maggie started to lead them to the trailer, “She has been getting better. She was much worse at the start. I’ll explain everything.” In the trailer he set you down on a bed. You had one hand still on his arm. He sat down on the side taking your hand into his turning to Maggie for an explanation. Catching the hint she continued,

“We didn’t even notice she was still alive until Sasha and I were on are way to Hilltop.”

Daryl interrupted- “Why were you going here? Rick said you had died from whatever sickness you had, but saw Gabe did a fake grave for you.” She inhaled before placing a hand to her stomach, “I thought I was losing the baby…” Color drained from his face, Maggie spoke reassuringly, “They baby is fine! The doctor who looked at me also helped her.” They both turn to you. You were fiddling with his hand in yours, seemingly mesmerizing by it. She sighed, “He said she was recovering better than he thought she would. She wasn’t herself the first few days but, she seemed to have taken most of the force to her hand.” Daryl's eyebrows furrowed and he eyed the cast on your hand.

You turn your attention to Daryl, “I’m ok… I swear.” He saw what had happened to you. The sound of that damn bat and the blood pouring out from your motionless body. Maggie movement caught his attention, “I let you two be, you’ll find me around.” She walked out the door before he could reply. You sighed at her abrupt exit and the face he was making. The face of a man consumed of guilt, “Later, you-u should talk through it with her. Your face is saying it all.”

Oh to be called on his B.S. again. To have you reading him like you had the manual to him. He probably still had the thought written on his face, ‘Your really here.' The pressure you pressed in your combined hands made him return it.

“Daryl, what did they do to you.”

A simple question really but his mind spun at the remembrance. He was covered in grime, and he is sure you noticed him being a little twitchy. The cuts and bruises to add told you a story. “Nothing worse than thinking you were dead.” He said it truthfully. You gave that god awful look that would make is heart pound. “Ar-are you ok?” Your eyes were becoming glassy. He only smiled and began to nod, “I will be now.” You slowly smiled back to him.

He went to clean up at your request, had taken a shower and cleaned some of the cuts on his face, along with his still healing bullet wound. He returned back to you and ate. He was quiet to observe you. Taken his own notes on your condition.

You were face down on top of his chest after he ate. Both soaking in each other. Daryl broke the silence, “Be my wife…” You didn’t even hesitate, raising your head to look at him and replying, “Where’s my ring at then…?” He huffed out some air having a dumb smile on his face, “In are room…” That had gotten your attention, “How long has it been there?” Marriage for Daryl wasn’t a concept he thought would be a part of his life with how he was raised. “Found it back on a run for the prison. Never found a moment with how everything went down.” Your hand reached to whip a tear from your eye before flopping back down on him,

“I’ll be your wife.”

A ruckus outside caused Daryl to investigate, removing himself from you felt like a sin. "I'll go check it out, stay here." He only looked back for a moment before heading out the door. He slowly stalked to see the gate open. Jesus appeared by him, "I was just about to get you." Daryl looked at him questioningly. He continued his approach to the gate. Daryl rounded the corner to see Rick, Carl, Michonne, Tara, and Rosita. Rick pulling away from Maggie, and all eyes falling to him.

The group he considered his family was here.

Part 4

Feedback welcomed and requests open!

Also sorry again for grammar or spelling that is messed up! Dyslexia kicks my ass on the daily.

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

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dixons-sunshine · 2 days

Note

👉👈 Because your my fav writer for Dad Daryl 👉👈 Just wondering if you’d consider him stepping up as a parental figure for his niece (Merle’s kid) after he “died” and when he actually died 👉👈

I'm Right Here | Uncle!Daryl Dixon x Niece!Reader (platonic/familial)

*GIF isn't mine.*

Summary: With Merle gone, you were the only family Daryl had left. He had unofficially stepped up as your dad, and in those eight months with your actual father "dead", Daryl was a better dad than Merle ever was. And he proved it in more ways than one, even before Merle went missing.

Genre: Fluff, some light angst.

Era: The Quarry, The Prison (season three).

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of blood and death, fear of abandonment.

Word count: 2.4k

A/n: I've been bouncing back and forth between fics and finally managed to finish this. Next up is I Never Lived For The Applause, and then some more young!Daryl. Anyhow, I hope you like this!

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Hey, kiddo. Ya alrigh'?”

“I'm fine. The walkers didn't get me,” you tried to reassure him. “You didn't find my dad?”

You looked up at the sound of your uncle's voice, meeting his intense gaze. You gave him a small, unconvincing smile that he could see through instantly.

Daryl sat down on the log next to you, placing his crossbow down on the ground. He stared ahead at the ashes of the prior night's fire, an unreadable expression on his face. “Nah. Wasn't nothin' to find 'cept his hand. He had to cut it off.”

You winced, absentmindedly grabbing your own hand at the mere thought of the pain that it must've caused your father. Despite your strained relationship with the man for obvious reasons, he didn't deserve that fate—to lose his hand because some people couldn't find another way to deal with his temper.

“Oh,” you mumbled, feeling your heart break. Despite everything, Merle was your father and you loved him. At least he had stuck around. The same couldn't be said for your mother, who had dropped you on Merle's doorstep the moment you were born.

“Yeah,” Daryl responded, instantly picking up on your downtrodden mood but not knowing how to bring you comfort in a moment like that. He'd just essentially told you, his thirteen year old niece that was so wise beyond her years due to the shit Merle had gotten into, that your father was most likely dead. It tore him apart to have to bestow that news on you, but it was necessary. What could he do, lie to you? That was out of the question.

You blinked the tears away that had started to well up in your eyes, trying to put on a brave face for your uncle. “Looks like it's just us now, huh, uncle Daryl? The two remaining Dixons.”

Daryl gave you a tight-lipped smile and ruffled your hair, chuckling quietly at the sound of protest you let out. “Looks like it. We're gon' give the world hell, ya and I. Jus' like the old times.”

You smiled up at him. Even though your father was gone, you still had your uncle, and that made you feel better about everything.

“We are. The world ain't ready for us.”

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“It won't work.”

“S'gotta.”

“It'll stir things up,” Rick told Daryl, adamant with his decision.

“Look, the Governor's probably on the way to the prison righ' now. Merle knows how he thinks, and we could use the muscle,” Daryl replied defiantly, glancing between his companions on the road.

“Do you really want him sleeping in the same cellblock as Carol, Beth or Y/n?” Glenn questioned, unwilling to let Merle, a known hothead and former drug user, near the people he's come to care about.

“He ain't a rapist,” Daryl responded, frowning at Glenn's accusation. “And he sure as hell wouldn't touch his own daughter like tha'. Merle may be sick in some ways, but he ain't like tha'.”

“Yeah, okay, but his buddy is.”

“They ain't buddies no more. Not after last nigh'.”

Rick chipped in to the conversation, turning the archer's attention back to him. “There's no way Merle's gonna live there without putting everyone at each other's throats.”

“What, so ya'd cut Merle loose and bring the last samurai home with us?” Daryl asked, motioning over to Michonne who was waiting for them by the car.

“She's not coming back with us.”

“She's not in a state to be on her own,” Maggie denied, giving Rick a pointed look.

Glenn nodded in agreement to his girlfriend's statement. “She did bring you guys to us.”

“And then ditched us,” Rick stated in a bored tone, eyeing Michonne warily.

“At least let my dad stitch her up?” Maggie asked.

“It's too unpredictable,” Rick denied vehemently, shaking his head.

Daryl nodded in agreement. “He's righ', we dun' know who she is. But Merle... Merle's blood.”

“No. Merle is your blood. My blood, my family is standing right here and waiting for us back at the prison,” Glenn countered, crossing his arms over his chest.

“And you're part of that family,” Rick told Daryl, looking at him expectantly. “He's not. He's not.”

Daryl stayed quiet for a few moments, pondering over his decisions. Thoughts of leaving with Merle, going off and fending for themselves like the old days flashed through his mind, but then he thought of you. You, his sweet, kind, low-key badass, now fourteen year old niece who he'd gone to great lengths to protect over the past eight months. The girl who he'd been taking care of since his brother "died", the girl who had unknowingly started to feel like his own daughter, though he would never tell Merle that. And at that moment, he knew he couldn't just leave. He wouldn't.

“Man, wha' do y'all expect me to tell my niece?” Daryl began, effectively silencing everyone. “Tha' I found her father after all this time and he's alive, but he couldn't come back to her 'cause y'all said so? How's tha' gon' fly with her? Ya'd really deprive the girl a chance at gettin' her father back 'cause of wha' might happen?”

That seemed to really make everyone reconsider. Even Glenn didn't have a counter argument now. Everything was silent for a good thirty seconds while Rick weighed his options, exchanging wordless exchanges with Maggie and Glenn. It was clear that nobody wanted it, but the group couldn't deny Daryl's argument. They cared about you, and it would be unfair for them to deny you the chance of getting your father back.

Rick turned and whistled, signalling Merle over. When he stood in front of him, Rick gripped him by his shirt, getting into his face.

“You're coming with us, but this isn't an invitation for you to be a jackass with everyone back at the prison. The only reason you're even coming back is because of your daughter. If it wasn't for her, you'd be gone.”

Merle's eyes widened the slightest bit with surprise, but it soon morphed back into his usual careless look. “Well, would ya look at tha'. My lil' girl still lives. M'surprised, quite honestly. Didn't think she was built fer this world. Kinda expected her to have kicked the bucket by now.”

“Man, shut up!” Daryl's voice boomed unexpectedly, shutting his brother up. “Dun' make me regret convincin' them to bring ya back. And if ya even say one degradin' thing to yer daughter, I will personally gut ya and feed ya to the walkers. Tha' kid's been through 'nough.”

Unbeknownst to either brother, Rick, Glenn and Maggie had walked ahead to get everything settled into the car, leaving the two brothers to their feud. It was a good idea, too. That was a family matter.

“Wha', ya actually care 'bout her now? Didn't see ya stickin' 'round to play pretend with her back before the world went to shit, and now yer tryna tell me how to parent my own child? Nah, lil' bro. Tha' ain't how it works.”

Daryl scoffed and shoved past him, walking over to the car. He didn't miss the unmistakable sound of Merle's laughter, rolling his eyes at it. He pressed forward and slipped into the passenger's seat, not missing the way everyone tensed up when Merle got into the car.

He just hoped that he hadn't made the wrong decision by bringing Merle back.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

You and Carl were rushing over to the gates when you saw the familiar vehicle enter the courtyard. The car was noticeably more crowded, and with one glance through the window, you were relieved to see your uncle. You had been so worried that something might have happened to him, but there he was, relatively unscathed.

Daryl was barely out of the car when you practically launched yourself into his arms. He stumbled a bit but regained his footing, hugging you tightly to him. He didn't miss the unmistakable sound of your sniffles.

“Hey, kiddo, s'alrigh'. M'okay,” he reassured you in whispered tones, rubbing his hand up and down your back in comfort.

“I was so scared. I couldn't stop fearing the worst,” you choked out, trying to will the sobs away. You buried your face into your uncle's shirt, dampening it slightly with your tears, but he didn't seem to mind.

“M'righ' here. I ain't goin' nowhere, I promise,” he assured you. “No more tears, alrigh'? Ain't no more need fer 'em.”

“Well, ain't this jus' sweet.”

A familiar raspy voice met your ears. You tensed up, pulling away from the hug and turning around, facing the man you had thought to be dead for eight months—your father, Merle Dixon.

“Wha', no hugs fer yer old man, girl?” Merle asked, a grin on his face as he extended his arms in a silent invitation for a hug. “Yer not gon' greet the man who helped with givin' ya life?”

Subconsciously, you took a step back. Daryl stepped in front of you, shielding you with his body. He gave Merle a warning glare before turning to you.

“Why dun' ya go help Hershel with tha' lady we brought back? I know he's been teachin' ya some medical things. It'd do ya good to learn how to do stitches.” You nodded, understanding his underlying message and sped off, leaving him alone with Merle. Daryl turned to face him, a glare on his face. “Man, back the hell off. She ain't gotta give ya anythin' if she dun' want to.”

“Because I was with the enemy?”

“'Cause yer a simple minded piece of shit who never even bothered to play dolls with her, much less give her hugs! Ya wanna know somethin'? When tha' lady dropped her off on our doorstep, who do ya think took care of her when yer ass was too high or drunk to? To answer yer question from earlier, I did stick 'round. I changed her diapers. I bathed her, fed her, stayed up with her at nigh' when ya wouldn't. I took care of her. Ya were jus' too fuckin' out of it most of the time to realise it! Hell, did ya think those things happened magically?”

“Now listen here, bro—” Merle started, but Daryl didn't light up.

“And when she got older, who the hell do ya think took her to school? Picked her up, encouraged her to do the spelling bee, went to parent teacher conferences? Do ya think the fuckin' tooth fairy did tha'? Say wha' ya want, bro, but she dun' owe ya shit. Ya may not have been like dad, but ya weren't a good father, either.”

Merle stayed silent for a moment, the weight of his brother's final statement weighing heavily on his shoulders. “Then why the hell did ya convince 'em to bring me back?”

“'Cause despite everythin', tha' girl still loves ya. And she deserves to have her father 'round,” Daryl responded simply before turning around and stalking off, leaving Merle alone and dumbfounded.

Merle Dixon wasn't right about most things, but one thing he knew for certain he was right about was that you probably didn't care whether he was dead or not. If what Daryl was saying was true, you didn't need him. You had a perfectly good father figure in your life already. Daryl had been a better father to you than your actual father was.

And for some unknown reason, that crushed Merle's heart.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“You found him like that?”

Daryl's heart shattered at the broken sound of your voice. It was the second time that he had needed to tell you that Merle was dead, but this time, it was real. Your father's lifeless corpse layed motionless six feet in the ground in the designated graveyard, Daryl having dragged him there and buried him.

Daryl nodded. “Found him as a walker. He had tried to kill the governor but failed. Son of a bitch got to him first.”

“I should've stopped him. I should've known that something was wrong,” you said, a sob threatening to escape your body. “Before he left, he told me that he was proud of me. That he loved me. I should've known that there was a reason to it. He never told me that before. I should've—”

A choked up sob finally fell past your lips. Daryl instinctively pulled you into his arms, offering to be the pillar of strength for you as you crumbled. Despite everything, Merle was still your father. You still had a handful of good memories with the man—when he wasn't drunk or high, Merle was an okay father. But just okay.

It took a while, but you finally managed to calm down. Instinctively, Daryl pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, running his hand soothingly over your back.

“S'alrigh', kiddo,” he whispered soothingly.

You didn't know what made you say what you said next. Maybe it was the fact that you weren't thinking straight. Maybe it was because you were desperately looking for a pillar of support, you didn't know. But before you could stop it, the words slipped past your lips—

“Please don't leave me. I can't lose you too, Dad.”

A moment of silence passed. Unbeknownst to you, a small smile spread over Daryl's face. He pulled you closer to him.

“Ya still got me. M'here and I ain't goin' nowhere, kid. Yer stuck with me.”

Merle Dixon wasn't always a good man. He wasn't always a good father either. But in the midst of a cruel world, before and after the dead started walking, Merle managed to give Daryl a sweet gift—you, his daughter. Because despite biological relations, you were now truly his.

#krys writes .ೃ࿐#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x female reader #twd daryl #daryl x reader #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader #merle dixon #the walking dead

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yarrystyleeza · 1 day

Note

Happy birthday tomorrow Yuna! Hope you'll have an amazing day ❤️❤️

As for a request... When I saw you would write for Daryl, I knew I had to send you something. Season 1 and 2 Daryl lives rent free in my mind, so can I please request:

"when they tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear while you talk" and "brushing against each other, even if there is enough room"

Thank you in advance and again, Happy birthday 😁❤️🎉

Awww thank you my love, sorry for answering this late, hope you didn't mind it, it was stupid of me! 😅💖💖💖

I was stuck with the plot of the request for the last two months until last night, I literally wrote this in less than 10 hours lol 🤣🤣🤣 hope you enjoy it, though, and sorry for keeping you hanging! 💖💖💖 You're so welcome and thank you for dropping this request and for the birthday wishes! 🥰🥰🥰

Little Things (D.D)

Requested by @munsonownsmyass

Pairing and dynamic: Daryl Dixon x female! reader, idiots in love

Prompt: fluff, s1!s2!Daryl, tucking hair behind ear, brushing against each other even if there's enough room + petnames for the cherry on top!

Word count: 1.4k!

Writer's note: I loved writing this one so much! As you lily, season one and two Daryl is my favorite Daryl era (beside S8). Not 100% proofread but I hope you really enjoy it, have a great day! <3

"Hurt y'self, little thin'?" He teased, watching you lying on the forest bed after your foot faltered and slipped you into the bottom of the hill. Your brows knitted, you rolled your eyes, he chuckled at the face you made, "alright, I'm comin'."

He slides down, smoothly, and a little bit pompously—with a smirk on his face. You can't lie—he made you smile though you desperately wanted to punch him right in the face.

He offered his hand to you and you accepted his help. At first, he let you wrap your arm around his neck as he walked you towards the hill exit—but as it turns out, you sprained your ankle so bad it was impossible for you to take another step. He scooped you in his arms and carried you back to the quarry.

And that's how you met Daryl.

You can't admit he wasn't a pain in the ass most of the time—if not always, getting on your nerves and driving you up the wall, it was so constant you started thinking he was doing it on purpose.

It kinda was. Daryl had serious troubles with conveying his emotions, and that idiot had a sickening crush on you ever since he saw you at the camp with the girls. He wanted your attention and he only got it when he drove you mad, so he tooled it in his advantage.

You were his favorite. You're the only one he talks to—other than his brother, Merle—and you, too, are the only one who wants to talk to him.

You too had a crush on him. His silly fights and bickering became more amusing to you—sometimes you couldn't even contain the smile drawn across your face when he's mad about something so stupid and could be fixed in complete silence, and when you gave him your smug face—it always drove him insane. You learnt he's quick-tempered, but these ones were visibly made up just to get a chance to be with you.

Daryl reminded you of those little boys in the playground when they used to ruin the girls' sand castles or pull their braids and ribbons just to get their attention. Ever since you came up to this conclusion—life has never been easier!

But things changed a little bit after the attack on the quarry. Daryl turned from only being a hot-headed idiot to be completely protective of you, but that doesn't mean he stopped getting angry—God forbid he does! But he got more reasonable and collected—around you, at least.

As soon as you got to the CDC, he grew closer to you, more friendly, more worried, more caring. He barely slept the night you spent there, checking on you every thirty minutes to make sure you don't need anything—despite you being a wall apart. It was adorable, and it stirred something in you.

Same night at dinner, right before you went to bed, he sat beside you as you dined, he made sure your plate was full and that you'd eaten well because 'it's been a while since you got a decent meal', he says.

And in the middle of the chaos the following morning—he solely cared for you, and not a thing was going to stop him from smashing Dr. Jenner's head that morning if it wasn't for you calming him down.

The two of you escaped in his pickup truck. But despite the horror you had just fled, you couldn't stop stealing glances at each other, Daryl was focused on driving but you spotted him staring at you with soft eyes a couple of times. Both of you blushed, multiple times—vividly, but you couldn't stop. Something was so amusing and sweet about the way he was looking at you, and you were so tempting to him he could stop staring at you even if he wanted to.

Now, staying at Hershel's farmhouse, Daryl turned out to be that sweet lovey dovey guy who'd absolutely melt under your touch—in complete opposite to the face he's been showing to everyone.

As you went out to search for Sophia, Daryl offered to accompany you. He kept brushing arms with you, pumping into your side, and gently holding your biceps to guide you as you walked. He kept putting himself between you and any threat, not letting you shed a drop of sweat—you were almost a passenger princess, but on foot.

But it was very obvious the night he got shot—your heart dropped when it happened, and when you learned it was your Daryl and not some misinformation. You couldn't watch as they took the bullet out, you couldn't watch him screaming in agony—yet you heard him from behind the door. It tore your heart into pieces.

The night fell as you sat on the chair next to his bed, your head dripping every couple minutes as you drifted in and out of sleep. Your head was heavy as a rock sinking in the ocean—yet you kept fighting Mr. Sandman back, shaking your head and rubbing your eyes and patting your face.

"Go to bed, pet," he softly demanded, "ye're tired from sittin' here all day," he extended an arm, gently placing it on your thigh and squeezing it chastely, "ya need some rest."

You shook your head, "I'm fine, Daryl," you shrugged, "it's not like it's the first time I stay up late."

Both of you stay silent, staring at each other with soft eyes. "Climb up in 'ere," Daryl says, his voice was tinted with plead "at least you won't have to keep droppin' yer head like a sippy chicken."

"No, Daryl," you shook your head in utter refusal, desperately trying to show him how awake you are despite craving a warm bed, "you need your own space. What if I accidentally hit your wound--"

"Come on, pet, you know you won't..." he softly smiles, shaking his head. You sigh and climb into the bed with him and he shares his blanket with you. He turns to face you, the moonlight is perfectly casted upon your faces, his blue eyes sparkled and reflected you like a looking glass. He grazes your cheek, tucking your stray hair back behind your ear and his fingertips linger on the skin of your neck.

"Get some sleep, love," he caresses your hair, "I won't need nothin' when ye're right next to me."

You woke up tangled up in his chest, it was warm and peaceful. You never wanted to slip out of his arms—if it wasn't for Hershel coming over to check on him and the men accompanying him.

Daryl got better as the days gone by. You started to see him in the kitchen fetching some biscuits or chips, he'd pump into you on his way out, brushing arms with you and glancing at you with his blueies and a smile. And if he's in the right mood, he'd take you off guard and peck your cheek, and you'd turn red and try to bite your smile. He caught it had quite the right effect on you, and he's been doing it ever since.

"Let it down, pumpkin," Daryl flirts as he snatches the scrunchie out of your hand as you tried to tie your hair, "love it when it's coverin' yer pretty face, gives me a reason to keep tuckin' it back."

"But we're going on a mission," you protest, "it would be dangerous for both of us!"

Daryl takes a run around the golden field and you chase him—but he overpowers you and you stop running, panting and clutching your chest as he giggles. He mischievously walks back closer to you, so you try to take it back, but he's taller than you, stretching his hand up with your scrunchie and shaking it to tease you. "Ya ain't tiein' it today, darlin'."

"Give it back!" you giggle as you jump to reach for your scrunchie, but he keeps stretching his arm above his head.

"Ye look so cute like that, pumpkin," he pulls a smug face as you lean forward against him, your chests compacting and you're an inch away from kissing.

"You could've told me you wanted to kiss me," you tease, not minding that he lowered his hand back down. He tucks your stray bangs behind your ear, ending up doing what he wanted to do all along.

"But it's more fun to watch ya tiptoe and lean on to me like that," he rounds you with his big arms, pulling you deeper into his chest with a Bastard smirk on his face, "it makes you even prettier, pet. These little things you do."

Likes and reblogs are appreciated, thank you for coming to my birthday sleepover celebration! 💞💞💞

#yarrystyleeza #daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fluff #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl fanfiction #daryl twd #daryl x you #daryl dixon imagine #norman reedus

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lunajay33 · 1 day

Text

Finding You🩵

Summary: The group has been split up since the prison feel and you’ve been all alone with Judith until you come across a terrible group of men

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f!reader

Warning: This story might have some uncomfortable parts for some readers, nothing fully happens just some harassment

•Masterlist•

Things were going good, we had our crops and the community was coming together with the people who came from Woodbury but then….the sickness spread through the prison taking out a lot of people thankfully Daryl was smart to keep me away from anyone with signs and then to top it of the governor came back, he came back and killed Hershel right in front of us which broke out into a full battle field

I lost track of where Daryl was, I ran out of the prison with a quick to go bag finding Judith still in her bed, taking some more food for her and I ran out through the opening in the back of the prison

That’s how I got here, wandering the woods hoping just praying to come across anyone from the prison, Maggie Beth Rick anyone, if I ever found Daryl again I’d be the luckiest person on earth but it’s been what feels like two weeks, along the way I found a house got a blanket and tied it around myself making a makeshift baby holder for Judith so she wasn’t as difficult to carry

I was sat on these train tracks feeding Judith a can of peaches when suddenly I was surrounded by a group of dirty men, I held her close to my body scared of what might happen but I’ll be damned if I won’t fight tooth and nail to protect her

“Well well well, look what we got here, sweet lil thing like ya, might have some fun” this one guy with longer dark hair said as he ran his hand across my cheek but I flinched away

“Don’t touch me” I said trying to find away out of this circle

“You’re with us now darlin ya ain’t going anywhere” the older man said and now I was at the back of the group walking along the tracks just waiting to find a moment to escape

We eventually ventured off the tracks onto a road where we saw a man sitting in the middle of the road and my heart skipped a beat, I ran up ahead of the group careful not to upset Judith

The closer I got the clearer that winged vest became, the one person I needed to find the most and here he was

“Daryl” I said kneeling in front of him, he looked dirty and exhausted and……..broken

But when he looked at me I saw that hope in his eyes like when we first found the prison

“Are ya real?” He asked squeezing my arm

“I’m here D, I’m real”

He pulled me into a tight hug until Judith gave out a little whine

“Ya got lil asskicker?”

“Yeah, I lost track of you during the fight I saw Judith and I had to get out…..I’m sorry”

“Ya got out that’s what matters and ya found me”

“There’s something else I need to tell you”

I was cut off before I got to finish

“He yours? Ya claiming him?” Joe asked as the surrounded us

“Yes he’s mine” I looked back at Daryl and he looked defense and for good reason these people were dangerous

“Okay we’ll stop here for the night” Joe said as people started picking cars to sleep in

“Guess we can take the floor” I said sitting down farther from the others as Daryl tried to make himself comfortable laying on his garbage bag

I looked down at him my heart swelled with so much love and appreciation that I was able to find him again

“What’re ya lookin at” he asked with a slight smile

“I really thought I’d never see you again, thought I’d be alone out here just me and Judith forever and this ba…….but then I saw you again” I still haven’t gotten to tell him the news I found out that I was meant to tell him the day the governor destroyed our home

“What were ya meaning to tell me earlier” he asked as he leaned up on his arm

I sighed looking down at little Judith fast asleep in my arms

“I meant to tell you but then you know……..the governor came………I’m pregnant” he was silent for a long time he just looked down to my stomach where a little bulge was showing, it was early so it was only noticeable if you knew about it

“How’s this happen” he asked his eyebrows furrowing

“Are you mad?” I asked feeling my heart pump harder, I know this isn’t ideal but it’s done now and there’s nothing I can do

“Nah just……scared, for you, I can’t lose ya like Lori”

“Lori had a c-section with Carl, that’s why she died, I’m sure I’ll be fine D”

He motioned for me to lay on his chest, holding me close

“I love ya” he whispered

“I love you too Daryl”

Should I do a part 2?

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celtic-crossbow · 3 days

Text

Blood Ties Chapter 26

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Mainly just pregnancy stuff

A/N: I hope I pulled this off while keeping our archer in character. Be gentle.

gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams

You knew it was bothering him, it was evident in the way he moved. The jerking slices of the knife as he made bolts while he sat cross legged on the old railing across from you. You were perched on the porch swing—he had all but jumped up and down on it to make sure it would hold you safely—just watching him, guilt flaring to singe the inside of your chest. He wanted to go on the run, get the things that you and the baby needed, but you were scared. Hershel had said the baby could come any day. It was at your insistence that Daryl wasn’t going. You didn’t have to try hard, mind you. He was worried about leaving you as well.

Still, it wasn’t sitting right with him for the others to be risking their necks for his baby.

“Maybe you should go.” You finally said, picking at your thumbnail. You saw his movements come to an abrupt halt before continuing.

“Nah. Ya need me here.” He sniffed, starting up on another piece of wood. He had legitimate bolts with his crossbow, so you could only assume he was just trying to keep his hands busy. He was so undeniably torn and it was showing.

“I think you should. You know what I need. You’ve read the books. Maggie will be there to help with the medical side of things, the list Hershel made.” You sat up straighter, attempting to massage the little foot away from your ribs. Of course, Daryl noticed.

“S’wrong?” He was climbing off the rail and made it over to you in one long stride, giving you a once over before he sat down. He didn’t ask before taking over for you, lightly rubbing over the little form of toes with the smallest, gentlest of smiles. You’d almost consent to constant discomfort if it meant you’d see more of that expression.

“Thumper has a personal vendetta against my ribcage.” Your head found your partner’s shoulder, watching that same laser focus that had moments ago been on the wood he was carving now honed in on you. For a moment, you were just a couple expecting a baby. For a moment, the world hadn’t ended. For a moment, you had managed to find perfect. “I love you.”

Daryl’s hand froze but for a mere heartbeat before his fingertips continued chasing little toes as if he were playing a game with the baby, when in reality he was simply trying to divert the tiny digits away from your ribs. “So ya keep sayin’.”

“So you keep saying. Is that all you’re ever gonna say?” You weren’t angry, not even frustrated. There was merely a soft curiosity that sat in the back of your mind; along with the little voice that assured you Daryl was yours and you were his, even if he could never say the words.

“Dunno.” It always unsettled you when he spoke so quietly, small and fragile as if he feared his words would end in some sort of pain. God, you wanted to bury his father in a gopher hole, maybe even his mother and brother. It was normal for a person to be unsure of feelings, to question and explore before accepting what they were, good or bad. Daryl didn’t have that capability. He questioned. He explored. And then he feared, good or bad. He didn’t think he deserved good and he was so attuned with bad that it’s what came naturally in his own reactions. Perhaps he thought you were trying to fix him, when that couldn’t be further from the truth. You didn’t see anything broken. You saw someone who had never been shown what love was supposed to feel like. He wasn’t broken, he just needed to learn, and Daryl was good at learning.

Still you persevered, your fingers finding their way into his hair, delicately tracing the scar from Andrea’s bullet. “Do you love me, Daryl?” Maybe narrowing it down to a simple yes or no would make it easier for him. Maybe you were pushing him. You would need time if the answer was no but you would be okay. He cared enough to be with you, to raise Thumper as a family. In the end, that was all you needed.

But then his hand stilled on the center of your swollen belly and he lifted his head to seek out your gaze. Even with all the emotion stirring in those stormy pools of blue, you could easily see the fear, but there was something else. You continued to run your fingers through his hair, the color darkening somewhat as it grew. Even with that comforting gesture, you held his gaze, heard his breath stutter, watched his lips move so, so nimbly without a sound. His free hand came up to brush back your own hair, tenderly tucking it behind your ear. As he leaned toward you, the corners of your mouth lifted into a welcoming smile.

“Y/N, I—”

“We’re heading out!” Glenn called from the doorway before stepping onto the porch. Daryl pulled away fast, his hands on his knees, eyes downcast.

You were going to absolutely torture Glenn before you murdered him.

“You sure you don’t wanna go, Daryl?” Rick had joined Glenn and was checking his weapons before he finally looked up.

Daryl, though, only had eyes for you; his bowed head angled to see you, questioning.

You sighed with a smile, giving him a nudge with your elbow. “Go. Try to find those bra pad things. Cloths suck and they hurt my nipples.” There was no deeper shade of red that could color his skin. You laughed, loud and true. “Go. We’ll be fine.” Licking his lips nervously, Daryl nodded and left the swing.

T-Dog held out the archer’s bag and crossbow. “Thought you might change your mind. Went ahead and grabbed these.” He only received a nod.

The group began to descend the steps, but Daryl paused at the end, looking back to you. He closed the distance in seconds, a finger hooking under your chin to lift your face higher, even though you were already looking at him. “Be back ‘fore dark. Promise.”

That earned him one of your sweetest smiles. “We’ll be waiting.” You patted your belly. The rough hand at your chin, moved to your jaw, his thumb stroking the apple of your cheek. “I love you, Daryl. Be safe.” He hesitated, long enough for something to stir in your chest. Hope? Excitement? Then he merely nodded and was gone.

You and Lori were given the least strenuous tasks. She was not far behind you. A few weeks, her belly almost as prominent as your own. Luckily, you found it helped for folding clothing before stuffing them in the correct bag. Your bare feet were propped up in a chair across from you, your ankles swollen, squeezed by the socks that you had to wear to keep them warm. Your body just ached all over. Thumper Dixon was playing field hockey with your internal organs and the nausea you had definitely not missed was threatening to make a comeback. You just felt awful.

“The last month is the worst.” Lori commented while packing away some of Carl’s clothing. “And it’ll take a while after the baby comes to feel human again.”

“Growing a human fucking sucks.” You groused, one of Daryl’s few shirts lying spread over your torso. “And goddamnit, I have to pee. I always have to pee.”

“Means you’re hydrated at least. Silver linings.” Lori tittered. If anyone had been watching the two of you battling to your feet, it would have been worthy of more than a few chuckles.

“Thanks for going with me. Daryl would have a kitten if I went alone.” When you straightened, there was an immediate feeling of change in your body that had you looking to Lori, eyes wide. “Holy shit, I can breathe but I feel like I’m gonna piss my pants and my hips hurt.”

She smiled and placed her hands over her own round bump. “The baby dropped. You're carrying differently now. I wish we had a mirror.”

“Carrying differently? What do you—oh.” You immediately noticed when you began to massage the taut skin that the swell sat lower. You suddenly couldn’t remember a word the old man had said. Were you about to go into labor? How would Daryl know? You couldn’t do it without him.

“Easy, Y/N.” At some point, the other woman had crossed the small space and put her hands on your shoulders, your stomachs brushing against one another. “It just means the baby’s getting ready. Though, I think after this run, Daryl should probably consider staying behind on any others.” You nodded, trying to get your breathing under control. In through the nose, out through the mouth. “Let’s go take care of business and then let Hershel do his daily thing, okay?”

You nodded again, a jerky motion while you trembled. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” You followed behind her, trying to keep your mind on the fact that if you didn’t empty your bladder within the next couple of minutes, you would still be incredibly anxious but you would be so with wet pants. “Maybe the little gremlin can’t reach my ribs now.”

You felt like crap. All day, you felt heavy and sluggish, swollen and nauseous. By late afternoon, you just couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Carol.” You spoke her name quietly, leaning onto the dusty countertop to pillow your head on your folded arms. You saw the concern on her face when she turned from canned foods with which she was planning small meals. You couldn’t even wave away her worry. “Do you need my help right now? I think I’d really like to lie down.”

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” She came to place a hand on your back, rubbing softly. It only succeeded in making your yearn for Daryl to be there, easing your fears in his own Daryl way. He would probably already have an aneurysm when someone told him that you’d done work, light as it was. And then you needed to tell him that the baby had indeed dropped. God, even if you didn’t tell him, he’d notice with that keen eye of his. Your stomach had shifted, still round but lower. There was so much pressure on your pelvis that you thought the bones might separate at any moment. Lori had promised that what you were feeling was normal, that it was simply new and you would take a day or two to adjust unless the baby decided to make its debut before you could.

“I just don’t feel well.” You stood straighter, nodding that she could remove her hand and you were fine. “I’d rather have Daryl come back to me feeling like shit and resting than to me feeling like shit and trying to help get things done.”

“I can’t argue with that.” She laughed.

Carol was about the only other person in the group that Daryl dropped any of his walls around. With Rick, it was all business. There was respect there, but not yet friendship. You could see it though, the subtle changes in your hunter. He was getting comfortable around these people. It was a snail’s pace but if they were anything like you hoped they were, he would be granted their patience. God knew, he had earned it.

“Come on.” Carol urged. “Let’s get you settled.”

With each step, you whined, feeling less and less like the woman you had been only months before, like she had been left behind somewhere, starved or trampled by a herd. “I hate this. Is it wrong to hate this?” You grimaced at Carol who only chuckled breathily, her hand resting on your cheek.

“It’s not wrong. This is a lot. Our bodies do a lot.” A couple of soft pats and then she bent down to straighten the bedroll and arrange the blankets.

You were watching, actually finding yourself excited to be off your feet and deciding that a nap wouldn’t be so horrible when there was a strange feeling low in your belly. It started as a gradual tightening but soon turned into an unyielding cramp, your stomach hard beneath your hands as you grabbed for your sweater. You gasped Carol’s name, could hear her clearly calling for Hershel but you couldn’t seem to respond, swallowed up by every fear that had been looming like a dark shadow for the past few weeks. The pain wasn’t even horrible, not like you had imagined at all. But it was terrifying. The only thing you could think of to do was hold the area that housed your little Thumper and whimper out Daryl’s name.

A bed had been cleared, dusted, and made for you in the downstairs room. As you laid there, resting, and stared at the half empty cup of water on the bedside table, you overheard Beth and Carl animatedly re-telling how two walkers had shuffled by the driveway gate. The children had hid and remained quiet, reporting that no others were seen once those two had moved on. You weren’t naive enough to hope that it didn’t mean more were coming. The group would need to pack up and head out likely within the next day or so.

“Braxton Hicks.” Hershel had stated matter-of-factly. He had expressed that he was actually surprised you hadn’t experienced them before then, added that maybe you had but they were so mild that you just didn’t notice. You had two more instances over the course of three hours but nothing since then, though your body seemed to be in a constant state of dread, waiting for another to happen; for it to be more than what Hershel had said. You were waiting for something to be wrong.

Beyond the dusty, tattered green curtains, you could see the light fading. Daryl would be back soon. Would he blame you for bringing this on by doing a little work? Would he be angry? He’d be beside himself with worry, that much was a given. Hershel had said you could do small chores, that it was good for you to be moving, but what if Daryl didn’t see it that way? The morning had started so perfectly. The conversation had been left unfinished but it didn’t seem to have been heading anywhere bleak.

“Ugh.” You didn’t know what was more exhausting, your body or your brain. Each time you closed your eyes, your mind ran rampant with each and every wildly negative scenario it could possibly conjure. You groaned and rolled to your other side despite the effort and apprehensiveness of even moving. Letting your eyes close yet again, you fought against the intrusive thoughts, forcing images of what Thumper might look like instead. A little girl with Daryl’s eyes and your smile. A little boy with unruly light hair like Daryl’s had been, a constant scowl. You laughed softly, wetly, shedding a few tears around your smile. No matter the sex of the baby, you hoped for Daryl’s eyes. They were the one thing to always gave him away, no matter what expression he wore. With a baby that couldn’t communicate needs and wants, you would at least have that in your corner.

At some point, you must have dozed off, opening your eyes to the sound of the old truck Daryl was driving. Looking to the window, you could see the faint light of dusk giving way to the moon. He’d kept his promise, albeit barely. You didn’t care as long as he was back. Shifting and struggling, you finally made it upright just as you heard Glenn’s all too cheerful voice, though you couldn’t make out the words. Rick’s few words trailed right after. Then there was Daryl. He spoke but then there was nothing more than hushed tones. Hershel offering the day's events, most likely. A thud was followed by echoing stomps of boots pounding against the hardwood floors.

“Where is she?” Daryl roared, closer to the door.

“She’s fine, son. She’s resting. This is normal. It just caused a bit of a fright. She just—”

“Where. Is. She?!”

The old man must have nodded or pointed because the next thing you knew, the door was swinging open with Daryl’s silhouette backdropped by the soft candlelight in the other room. His shoulders were heaving in what sounded so close to sobs that you squinted your eyes for a chance to catch his expression before he moved, startling you with how quickly he had one knee on the bed and was leaning in to check you over himself. He was filthy, mostly dirt and grime, but spots of walker blood and a cut across his cheek that was no longer bleeding.

“What happened?” You asked, reaching for his face but letting your hand hover in fear of hurting him.

“Don’t matter. Ya alright? Baby okay?” He was breathless, either from his haste to get to you or maybe just with worry. He was touching you without hesitance, his hands in a mad rush to feel your face, neck, your belly. You watched his eyes go wide and knew exactly what it meant. “Why’s it look diff’rent?”

“Thumper dropped.” His eyes were dancing back and forth as he flipped through his mental catalog of reading material and Hershel’s words. Relief was evident in his posture when he recalled what he had been searching for, but he was still tense.

“Hershel said ya was crampin’. The fake shit. Does it hurt now?” You shook your head and watched him finally sink onto his hip beside you, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Shouldn’a gone. Ya didn’t need to be alone through that.”

“Hey.” You leaned as far as you could, to guide his hand away with one hand while the other used his chin to turn his face toward you. “I wasn’t alone and we’re okay. It’s just my body getting ready.” Daryl’s head tilted, his expression displaying his gratitude for your attempts at consolation but also heavy laden with guilt for leaving you there. “Daryl, you had to go.”

“Didn’t hafta do nothin’. Could’a stayed right here where ya need me to be.”

He hadn’t asked what you had been doing. Maybe it wasn’t that important to him after all. He seemed to be more concerned with what happened and how you currently felt than anything. You truly needed to start trusting him as you wanted so badly for him to trust you. Your palm left his face and wrapped around the back of his neck, not needing much pressure to pull him to you for your lips to press against his. It was gentle and chaste, his hand leaving your belly to cup your jaw.

“We’re okay and you’re here now.” You soothed, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Just—no more runs until Thumper’s here, okay?”

“No more runs.” He agreed, his eyes closed, forehead against yours. “Ain’t leavin’ ya again.” His hand lowered back to your belly, rubbing back and forth. It was always the most tender thing you’d ever seen from him. You didn’t think him the type but he actually seemed to be calmed by the action. “D’ya need anythin’?”

“Just you.” You let him help you lie back, but he didn’t follow.

“Need to clean up. I’ll be quick.” He made to stand up but you grabbed his forearm and pulled yourself up again, not stopping once you got there. He gave in to your incessant tugging and wrapped his arms around you. “You’re gonna need to change too now.” You sniffled, trying hard not to cry, but you were just so overwhelmed with relief that he was back in one piece, that nothing bad had truly happened, that he was going to stay. “Don’t cry, woman. M’here.”

“I know. I’m just—I’m happy. I have you and Thumper. And—I don’t deserve you, Daryl Dixon.”

Daryl scoffed, rubbing his cheek against the crown of your head. “Ya deserve way better than me, Sunshine.” He took a deep breath that actually shifted you against his chest and then he was tightening his embrace. “But I love ya. An’ m’here unless ya tell me to get lost.” He pulled away before you could say anything, heading quickly for the door with one last look before he walked out. You were stunned frozen, silent.

He said it.

He said it and you could feel that he meant it. His actions had always conveyed it, but hearing it from his mouth was everything.

Thumper rolled and kicked before going still, reacting to all the emotions you were feeding to them through your bond. When you laid down again, it wasn’t hard to fall asleep. No wicked images formed behind your eyes. Just those words replaying in your head, a baby’s tiny hand gripping a large finger. A child’s giggle. And then his voice again.

Your eyes didn’t want to obey when you bid them to open, the mattress dipping beside you, the sheets moving. A warm arm pulled you against an even warmer body, enveloping you in a veil of safety.

Everything would be okay.

Because you loved Daryl.

And Daryl loved you.

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