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dixons-sunshine · 2 days

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I Never Lived For The Applause | Daryl Dixon x Former!Celebrity!Fem!Reader

Summary: Before the world quite literally ended, you were a famously known singer. However, your celebrity status didn't do you much good in the apocalypse, despite most people in your group giving you privileges that you didn't want. Thankfully, a certain redneck archer treated you like a normal person, unwillingly becoming the guy who caught your attention.

Genre: Angst, fluff.

Era: The quarry; the farm; the prison.

Warnings: Swearing, usual TWD warnings, suggestive themes.

Word count: 3.9k.

A/n: Okay but the former!celebrity!reader x Daryl was such a unique idea that an anon requested! I never would've thought about that on my own. I thought that this idea would be great combined with a few other requests, and this was born. There's a few time jumps and this is honestly not the best. I scrapped over 1500 words and this is all over the place, and it was supposed to be smut, and I don't really like this, but I hope you like it nonetheless.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

Before the apocalypse came to be, you were a famous singer and songwriter. You had multiple hit singles that made the charts and your concerts always sold out. It seemed like wherever you would turn, there would be someone there who would want an autograph or a picture. It seemed like you could never escape the spotlight.

Not even now, when the dead started rising and the world came to an end.

“Amy, I told you, I'm fine. I don't want your food. You need it more than I do.”

Amy shook her head defiantly, practically shoving the paper plate into your hands. “I insist. You're my idol, and I'll be damned if I let my idol go hungry when I have food I can give her.”

You sighed and reluctantly accepted the plate. “This is unnecessary. I already had my share, sweetheart. You don't have to give me yours when you also have to eat.”

“I'm fine. Rather me than you.”

Before you could protest, Andrea called Amy's name. Amy gave you an apologetic smile and bid you farewell, walking over to her sister and leaving you alone with your thoughts. You sighed and turned around, heading over to the tent you shared with your daughter. You opened the flap and stepped inside, seeing your twelve year old daughter, Nicolette, busy sketching in her sketchbook.

She looked up when she heard you step inside, sending you a smile. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hey, Nic,” you greeted her, sitting down on your cot opposite hers. “Why aren't you outside with the other kids?”

Nicolette shook her head, closing her sketchbook and sitting up in her cot. “Most of them treat me funny. They keep asking me if I can sing or if I can write songs, and if I got free stuff because you were famous. Only Carl and Sophia treat me like I'm a normal kid, but they're with their mom's right now.”

You sighed, guilt gnawing at you from the inside. Never once did you regret having your daughter, but sometimes you regretted having to raise her while you were in the spotlight. The paparazzi were relentless, and your daughter more often than not had to pay the price for that. It was unfair, and you wished that you could've just faded from the spotlight to raise your daughter in peace.

“I'm sorry, baby. If I knew back then what my fame could do to you, I never would have signed on with that record label. I wish I could take it back.”

Nicolette shook her head. She got up from her cot and sat down next to you, leaning her head on your shoulder. You wrapped your arms around her, placing a tender kiss on her head.

“It's not your fault, Mom. I don't blame you. You shouldn't, either.”

You shook your head. “That's easier said than done,” you replied, before adopting a more lighthearted tone. “But let's not talk about that. I've got some more food for you if you're hungry.”

Nicolette smiled at you and nodded eagerly. “I'm starving. Thanks, Mom.”

You smiled at her. However, before you could respond, a ruckus could be heard outside your tent. Both yours and your daughter's heads snapped in the direction of the two voices, instantly going quiet to hear what was happening.

“M'tellin ya, man. S'a fuckin' waste of time. We should jus' cut our losses here and scram. Take a few guns and food fer the road.”

“Merle, fer the last fuckin' time, we can't leave righ' now. It's too dangerous. We should wait 'til the heat dies down 'fore we go.”

“Wha' m'hearin' s'tha' yer a pussy. Wha's the matter, Darylina? Scared the geeks will get ya? 'Cause yer too incompetent to handle 'em?”

“Fuck off, Merle! It ain't like tha'. I jus' dun' wanna risk our lives if we dun' need to.”

“Whatever, man. M'goin' back to the tent.”

The man who's name you had learnt to be Merle left, his retreating footsteps growing fainter until you couldn't hear them anymore. However, you could clearly see the silhouette of the other man still outside your tent. You could hear him quietly muttering to himself.

Turning to Nicolette, you gently placed the plate with the food—cooked squirrel with some beans—onto her lap and stood up. You turned to her and leaned down to place a sweet kiss to her forehead.

“Eat up and get ready for bed. I'll be right back and then we'll continue reading that book.”

Nicolette nodded, and with that, you exited your tent. The man stood with his back to you, but a simple slight twitch of his head in your direction showed that he had heard you. His body stiffened visibly, and you frowned at that.

“Hey. You're Daryl, right?” you asked him, prompting the man to turn around.

However, he didn't meet your gaze, finding great interest in the ground below. He simply grunted his acknowledgement, a slight upwards nudge of his nose confirming your question.

“I'm Y/n. It's nice to officially meet you,” you introduced yourself, extending your hand to his for a handshake. Daryl made no move to shake it, however, making you awkwardly retract your hand. “I, uh, just wanted to say that you were right.”

“Wha'?” Daryl asked in confusion, his eyebrows furrowing. He hadn't meant for the question to slip from his lips, trying to just remain quiet until you got the message that he was in no mood to socialise, but he failed.

“That argument you had with your brother. You were right. It's way too dangerous to wander off on your own right now. Personally I feel like you shouldn't be wanting to go at all because it's safer with a group, but that's not my call to make. Just thought I'd let you know that your instincts are right. Don't listen to your brother.”

Daryl was confused by your niceness. He was even more confused by the fact that you agreed with him. He was so used to women taking Merle's side instead of his all the time, so this was something entirely new for him.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” he replied awkwardly, nervously chewing on his lower lip.

You smiled at him before nodding. “Okay, well, just wanted to tell you that. Oh, and to ask you not to argue in front of my tent again. I have a twelve year old in there who doesn't need to hear all of that.”

Daryl ducked his head, an embarrassed blush flushing over his face. “Sorry.”

“I guess I can let it slide this time,” you said with a smile. “And thanks for the squirrel. Thanks to you, my daughter doesn't have to go to bed hungry tonight. Never thought we'd have to resort to eating squirrel, but it's not that bad. It's actually kinda delicious. It's way better than—” Realising that you were busy rambling, you shook your head and gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Just, thank you.”

Daryl didn't know why, but he felt an unexplainable pull to you. Maybe it was the way you showed him kindness without even knowing him, or maybe it was the fact that you were the only one who seemed to actually appreciate the food he brought back from his hunts, even if it was squirrels. Despite their hunger, everyone else mostly refused to eat anything he brought back if it wasn't deer. Yet there you were, thanking him for bringing back something as mediocre as squirrel.

And it certainly didn't help that he found you absolutely radiant.

“S'nothin',” he finally responded. “M'jus' glad yer lil' girl can eat tonigh'.”

“You're the one who brought back the squirrels?”

At the sound of a small voice, both you and Daryl turned around to face your daughter. Nicolette walked up to your side and beamed brightly up at Daryl, catching him off guard. The other kids in the camp were terrified of him and wouldn't even glance in his direction, yet this kid was not only looking at him, but willingly talking to him.

“Yes, he is,” you confirmed, smiling fondly down at your daughter.

Nicolette looked up at Daryl, realisation dawning on her. “You're the man with the crossbow! And the vest with the angel wings! You're so cool, sir. Do you think I could maybe shoot your crossbow one time? It's okay if you say no, but can I maybe see how you shoot it so that when I get my own crossbow one day, I know how to use it? Or—”

Daryl's lips subconsciously twitched up into a smile. Her rambling was so similar to yours. Like mother, like daughter, he thought to himself as he looked between the two of you. There were over a dozen similarities between you and Nicolette. She looked just like you.

You placed a hand on Nicolette's shoulder, halting her rambling. You turned to Daryl, giving him a smile. “We should probably get ready for bed. Goodnight, Daryl.”

“Night, Daryl!” Nicolette greeted him enthusiastically, following you into the tent.

“Night,” he whispered.

“Oh, and by the way, don't be a stranger. I'd love to see more of you.”

Daryl blushed and ducked his head. He hummed, not trusting his voice at that moment in time.

You smiled and finally entered the tent, zipping the tent closed behind you. He stood there for a couple of moments before turning and walking back to his own shared tent with Merle.

Daryl couldn't explain it, but for some reason, in that short conversation, he felt drawn to you. It was unnerving, but felt nice at the same time. And your daughter was downright an angel, your exact copy.

“Wha' were ya doin', sniffin' 'round tha' popstar?” Merle asked when Daryl entered the tent, catching him off guard. Daryl had assumed that Merle would've been passed out by now, high off of whatever drug he was using that night.

“Popstar? Wha' the hell are ya talkin' 'bout?” Daryl questioned, plopping himself down on his cot.

“Tha' woman ya were talkin' to, she was a singer 'fore all this. Real famous, too. Used to see her on TV and in magazine's all the time.”

Daryl's mind swarmed with questions. You were a famous singer? How the hell did you end up there, with a bunch of nobodies? And why had you thanked him for bringing back something as simple as a squirrel? If you were famous, you had probably eaten banquets of the richest, most delicious food out there, yet you enjoyed squirrel? And to top it off, why would you willingly want to hang out with him of all people?

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“Daryl, oh my god.”

At the sound of your panicked voice, Daryl slowly sat upright in the bed in the guest bedroom. He looked up and locked eyes with you, seeing the worry written all over your face. You hurriedly sat down on the edge of the bed next to him and gingerly reached out to touch the bandage around his side, careful not to add too much pressure and hurt him.

“M'fine, sunshine. Dun' have to worry 'bout me,” he replied, waving off your concern and gently grabbing your hand to push it away from the bandage.

You scoffed in disbelief and shook your head. “You're my friend, Daryl. Of course I'm going to worry about you. I care about you, and you expect me to not worry?” you asked, bringing your hand up to gently caress his cheek.

Friend. That word reminded Daryl of how you viewed him. It had been two months since your first interaction at the quarry and his affection and attraction to you had only grown stronger. However, it seemed to him like his feelings weren't reciprocated, so he settled on being your friend.

Little did he know that you felt the exact same way. You just didn't know it yet.

“Heard ya punched Andrea fer shootin' me. Any truth to those rumours?” Daryl asked, diverting the attention away from his now pounding heart as your fingers gently pushed his hair back.

You smiled sheepishly. “My hand slipped?” you tried, shrugging your shoulders.

Daryl smirked slightly and shook his head. “Sure. Whatever ya say, sunshine.”

You let out a sigh, reluctantly drawing your hand back from his hair. “She had it coming. We told her not to shoot and she didn't listen, trying to boost her own ego instead. She almost killed you, Daryl. That's not something she should be allowed to get away with, but Rick and Shane aren't gonna do anything, so I took matters into my own hands.”

Daryl smiled softly. “Not bad fer a popstar.”

You giggled. “Hey, I got into a couple of fights before my career took off. I know my stuff. I know how to shoot a gun, too, but that's a discussion for another day.”

Daryl chuckled and nodded. He shifted back against the headboard and gazed at you, simply admiring your beauty for a moment. It amazed him that a beautiful, kind, caring, smart woman like you would ever wanna be associated with the likes of him. You were perfect and he was, well, him. It didn't make sense, but he dared not to question it.

“Can I ask ya somethin' personal?” he blurted out before he could think about it.

You nodded at him. “Sure.”

“When ya talk 'bout yer career, it sounds like ya hated it. Why'd ya become a singer if ya hated it so much?”

You remained silent for a minute. Daryl feared that he had asked the wrong thing and was about to apologise, but you spoke up.

“I was nineteen when I signed with my first record label. I didn't want to be in the spotlight because singing was more of a hobby to me, but my parents forced me to. Growing up, there wasn't ever really any money around and my parents made it out like it was my fault. They made me feel like I owed them for everything they did for me, and they forced me to sign with that record label. My parents were my managers and all the money I earned for the songs I wrote and sang basically went to them. That went on for a couple of years until I met Nic's father. He was a bass player in a band I was collaborating with. I fell in love way too quickly, jumped into bed with him when he made an advancement and ended up pregnant. The guy didn't want kids and bolted, leaving me a single mom. My parents hated that and basically disowned me.”

“M'sorry to hear tha',” Daryl replied sympathetically. He didn't really know how to respond; he never knew that about you. You chose to keep your life before you had Nicolette private, and he respected that. He had his own demons he preferred to keep quiet.

“It's okay,” you reassured him, shaking your head. “He was an asshole. And I was better off without my parents. I managed to sign with a decent enough record label and the rest was history. I got a ton of backlash from haters for being a single mom. There were even rumours that I had cheated and that's why the guy left me, but that wasn't true. But none of that matters anymore. My reputation doesn't matter anymore. All that matters now is keeping my daughter safe and keeping the people I care about alive. People like you.”

“Ya shouldn't care 'bout me. S'a bad idea.”

“Well, bad idea or not, I care about you. And so does Nic.”

As if being summoned, Nicolette knocked on the door and hesitantly stepped inside. Daryl adjusted the covers over his body and sent her a tight-lipped smile. Nicolette gave him a small smile back but he could clearly tell it was strained. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying.

“Are you okay?” Nicolette asked, crossing her arms over her chest as if to make herself appear smaller.

“M'fine, kiddo. Dun' worry 'bout me,” he reassured her. “Hershel fixed me righ' up. I'll be outta here in no time.”

Nicolette looked to you for confirmation, and you nodded. “He's right. He'll be fine. Some antibiotics and he'll be up and at it in three days. You'll see.”

“Okay,” she nodded, her eyes flickering between you and Daryl. “I'm glad you're not dead, Daryl.”

Daryl chuckled at the girls forwardness. “M'glad m'not dead, too.”

You smiled at the small interaction between Daryl and Nicolette, your heart swelling with fondness. You stood up from the bed and motioned for Nicolette to follow you.

“C'mon, baby. Let's leave Daryl to get some rest, okay?”

“Actually, I was wondering if I could maybe stay?” she asked timidly, nervously fiddling with her hands. “It's just... I wanna stay.”

You looked at Daryl, and he shrugged nonchalantly. Despite his nonchalance, Daryl's heart swelled with fondness. This little girl, who owed him nothing, wanted to stay with him. He couldn't believe it.

“Okay, you can stay for a while. I'll be back later, okay?” you relented.

She nodded and sat down on the chair. You gave Daryl's hand one last squeeze before heading out, sparing one last look at the two. Nicolette was starting to retell some of the events of what her and Carl had gotten up to that day, and Daryl hummed in acknowledgement before looking up and locking eyes with you.

With one last parting smile, you headed out and made your way back to the tents. On your way there, a startling realisation hit you like a ton of bricks, one that would change the way you saw Daryl forever. Despite the fact that he could be snappy at times, and that he was known for being grumpy, he treated you with respect. He didn't care about who you were before the end of the world. He didn't care about your mistakes, about if you were famous or not. That didn't matter to him. He only saw you, the person behind the old tabloids, and he had become close with your daughter. He even took the time out of his day to teach her how to use his crossbow, even if she was a slow learner. And in that moment, you realised something:

You had feelings for him.

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“Y'know, m'glad Nic didn't have to meet her father. She's better off.”

You turned your head to Daryl, a look of confusion spreading across your features. “I agree with you, but why do you say that? You didn't know the man.”

Daryl shrugged, taking a drag from his cigarette and blowing the smoke away from you. “Ya said back at Hershel's tha' he never wanted kids. If he had stuck 'round, god knows wha' he would've done to her.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, turning your attention back to the darkness ahead of you. “She is better off.”

The night was relatively quiet, save for the distant sound of walkers groaning outside the prison's fences. Daryl was on watch that night in the guard tower, and you had taken the initiative to join the archer that night. Everyone else had retreated into the prison for the night, leaving only you and Daryl awake.

“So are we gon' tell Nic 'bout us or not?” Daryl broke the silence, taking the last drag from his cigarette before putting it out next to him. “S'been over a month now. She deserves to know.”

Unbidden, flashes of that night a month ago arose in your mind. The feeling of his lips on yours, his hands exploring your body and the way he felt pressed against you. The feeling of your bodies becoming one was one that you wouldn't forget anytime soon, but the one memory you'd hold with you forever was the confession from the man next to you. After the heated, pleasurable moment you'd spent together, feelings were revealed, and you and the archer had unofficially started your relationship. You had both agreed to keep it a secret, but Nicolette was starting to get suspicious about the two of you.

“I'm okay with telling her tomorrow. She deserves to finally have confirmation on her suspicions,” you told him, leaning your head against his shoulder. “She already sees you as her dad, anyways.”

Daryl couldn't argue with that. Flashes of his own arose in his mind. A couple of days ago, he had returned from a run, battered and bruised. He could barely walk and both you and Nicolette were distraught. However, after he was patched up and resting in his cell and you were up in the guard tower for your shift, Nicolette had come to him in tears. He had hugged her tightly to his chest, acutely aware that she was transported back to that day on the farm when he had been shot. That night was the night Nicolette had confirmed that she saw Daryl as a father figure.

“Please don't leave. My mom needs you. I need you. We both need you in our lives. Please, Daryl.”

In that moment, even though she didn't know yet that you and Daryl were together, he knew that he wouldn't be able to live without either of you. You both were his entire world. Nicolette was his little girl. You were his partner, and there was no way he was letting either of you go.

“Dun' worry, Nic. I ain't goin' nowhere. I promise ya tha'.”

Shaken from his thoughts by your lips on his exposed shoulder, he turned his head to you, coming face to face with a mischievous smirk. He instantly knew what that smirk meant, and he helped you climb onto his lap.

“But,” you began, pulling his attention back to your previous discussion. “Let's worry about that tomorrow. Tonight, it's just me and you.”

Daryl smirked and attached his lips to yours. You may have been a popstar before the apocalypse, a celebrity living in a mansion, but in that moment, you were simply you. The woman Daryl cared for deeply, the woman Daryl was never gonna let go of.

Because in that moment, you were nothing but his.

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mordilwen-of-mirkwood · 2 days

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After 17hrs I finally finished it please please please send me reference photos to draw 😂💗😭

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hidtired · 3 days

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Hangman [Part 3]

(Daryl Dixon x Reader) Masterlist

Description: Y/N Dixon was to be punished for her husbands actions at the line up. Negan decided to do it in style. Daryl watches you hang before being dragged away. But how is he coping when you open the door to his cell as his savior.

2.3k words

Warnings (Mentions of suicide, gore, ANGST, violence, injury, ect.)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Daryl POV

The rattle of a door knob brought him out of thought. When the door didn’t open he thought he imagined it. Maybe he was losing more of a grip on reality. The sleep deprivation wasn’t helping, or the grief. He still heard noises that he imagined. Like the yelp you made when you dropped to the ground and the noose tugged at you. He sat back resting facing the door. The pulsating pain in is eye from being punched. He went to rub at it when a small knock tapped against the door.

He released a sigh, ‘I am losing it.’ Then the rattling of the lock made him tense. He didn’t think he was in there for more than a hour after Negan left to take Carl back to Alexandria? The clicking of pins suggesting it wasn’t from a key. The soft click of the lock releasing made a shiver run up his spine. He cautiously stare at the door creeping open. The light hit his eyes disrupting his view to who it was. The person didn’t speak when they fell to their knees in shock. He got the glimpse of a knife being put to the floor. When they slowly crawled over and gently cupped his face he couldn’t help but stare up and see your face.

He at that moment declared himself crazy. The guilt building in him again, “It’s all my fault… god I love you.” He rose his hand to your face, not wanting this to go away, he didn’t make contact with you just to see you disappear. Then you leaned into his hand. His mouth opened and his heart dropped. He got closer leaning toward you for confirmation he wasn’t crazy. You hadn’t said a word. He looked down to your neck hand slowly tracing down to it. The moment you flinched was like proof of your existence. He released a breath that had caught in his lungs at the original sight of you.

“Y/N?”

His eyes roaming across your face again. You lean down and pecked his lips. He felt like a burst of life just ran back into him. That quick kiss sending him back to life. You started to tug at his arms trying to get him to stand. He took the hint standing. You had made a quick look out the door but he had wrapped his arms around you. The feeling of you relaxing and thumping your head into his chest damn near broke his fragile mental state. The moment was quick with you pulling away and getting something from your pocket and showing it to him. It was the key to his bike. That's when another realization hit him.

‘You came to get him out of here?’

He grabbed the key from your hand staring at it. You were getting him out of here. A switch flipped in him after the shock of seeing you. It was a later thing to talk, they needed out of here first. He grabbed your hand and nodding to you. You smile at him while he walks past to check the hall. Looking back and forth seeing it clear he looked back at you and off you both went to freedom. The door he remembered where his bike was cracked open. Must have been where you got in. He smiled at the thought, ‘Smart girl.’

Pushing the door open crouched he scan the area. Seemed empty? He pulled you along with him to the bike. Letting go of your hand and trying to open the gate as quickly as he could.

“What the hell!”

The surprised voice made him turn. Fat Joey is what they called him. He had his eyes on you looking mortified, then landed on him. A burning feeling set under his skin as he stomped in raged at him. “Woah! L-look man I didn’t see anything!” His eyes scanned from him to you. The first punch Daryl landed sent his sandwich flying to the ground. Through his rage while he beat the man he remembered you were behind him. He stopped fist mid air and turned back to see you staring. Straight faced eyes looking down at the man then back to him. Fat Joey groaned, but Daryl’s eyes were still locked with you. You dragged a finger slowly across your purple and black neck, ‘kill him.’ He did just that. His jumpsuit now splattered with some of Joeys blood as he took the key and approached the bike.

The rumble of it under him then your presence behind him felt like a dream. You had looped your arms under his and he took off getting them out of there. His hands shook with nerves and adrenaline. He was becoming overwhelmed. The taps to his middle from you made him look in his side mirror. They had been driving for almost 40 minutes a ways away from the saviors. You gestured to pull over so he did. He felt on the verge of a panic attack.

The sound of his skin releasing from his tight hold to the handle bars seemed loud to him. His ears rang when your hand went to his shoulder and you leaned over face filling his vision. He doesn’t even feel you get up. Was this real? You rubbed up and down his arm. ‘Ya, this is real.’ His knees shake as he stood getting off the bike. He looks up at you after having his gaze glued to the floor. The guilt was seeping back through. Tears were in your eyes when he met them. A wobble to your lips, something he knew was you trying to not cry.

“I’m so sorry-“

You jumped wrapping your arms around his shoulders. His arms moving to catch you. His hand digging into your hair, a slight sway as in their embrace. He broke down, tears running down and a small hiccup coming out of him. Despite everything he thought he deserved you were still loving him. The unconditional love you gave broke his heart, “I almost killed you- I thought I killed you.” His cry’s grew deeper. You pulled away looking at him at his words. You shook your head. You jabbed a finger in his chest and tapped there. You shook your expressing a hard no. You pointed back down the road with a serious face.

He gulped at your conviction on the matter. He looked at you like you were the world and you caught the broken expression from him. Giving a smile and kiss for emphasis. He inhaled and exhaled, the fighter flight feeling he has had the whole time gone within your touch. His eyes moving back to your neck, “Are ya alright?” You hesitated before nodding. He met your eyes, “You can’t talk?” Bitting your lip you looked away from him shaking your head.

Daryl released you from his hold. Your feet landing on the ground but you continued to look at him. Up and down, probably taking notice of the clothes he wore. He felt ashamed at the thought of the stupid ‘A’ shirt he had on. You pulled off the large hoodie you had stolen from Jesus. You grabbed the end of his shirt and lightly tugged at it. His teeth clenched he reluctantly took it off. He watched your face turn into a frown. He still had a bandage on his shoulder where he was shot, also a few more bruises and scraps. He slowly took the hoodie from you and slipped it on. You both stood looking at each other. Your eyes saying you had a million of things to say. He broke the silence.

“M’ body is burning with the shame of not belonging…”

Your POV

You closed your eyes and inhaled. This isn’t the first time he has been this far stuck in his mind with guilt. He had it with anything that has ever gone wrong. Like he could somehow tell the future and it was his job to prevent every bad thing. Any death, any injury. Blaming himself for Beth, the prison falling, and now this. You open your eyes and look to his face. Slowly shaking your head as you walk away, going to sit back down on the bike. He still stood staring at you so you tap the spot in front of you. He moved shoving the corner of his thumb into his mouth. A nervous habit that you think he got as a kid.

You saw the small tremor left in his hands. Leaning into him and resting your head between his shoulders, arms pulling around him. Your fingers softly scratching at his mid section as you continued your ride to Hilltop. Hoping to provide him with as much comfort without words.

The sun was setting when reaching the gates of Hilltop. The door pulled open revealing Glenn, Maggie, and Enid. Daryl parked as soon as he got through the gate. Glenn was the one to jog over first, “You actually got him!” Glenn pulling Daryl in a quick hug. Maggie made her way not a second later, she look a little mad, “You idiot how could you just run off like that! Without even saying something before going!” It was apparent in your recover at Hilltop that not only you were traumatized. Someone would often check on you confirming to themself you were ok.

Maggie especially did it at night. Everyone had grown an attachment to you after that day, constant dread you would just drop dead. It was Glenn who spoke on your behalf, “She did leave a note.” You nodded and pointed at Glenn with agreement. Then pointing the attention at Daryl with a ‘look see I did what I said’ look. Maggie while finished yelling at you turning to hug Daryl, “Thank god you both are ok.” Daryl was still to wired into the things he had experienced to be any other way then awkward. You festered for everyone to go for a minute waving them off and dragging Daryl to the medical trailer. It was Glenn who remarked while you walked away, “She can’t even talk but still bossing us around.”

Dr. Carter seemed surprised to see you but you just pointed at Daryl. When he was done treating Daryl he move back over to you. You had originally tried to wave him off but Daryl spoke with a calm voice, “Please? So I know you are ok.” How could you say no to that? There was this terrible cream that smelt like a hospital he would put on a bandage and around your neck. He knew you hated it not liking things around your neck. “I’m also wanting you to crush and dissolve some vitamins into your food. A soup should do but remember it can’t be hot." Your lips were pursed in displeasure. A hand slide rubbing your back. Looking up you met Daryl’s eyes.

You both walk out the door not before finally getting a pen and paper back. “Do you want to shower and get a change of clothes?” Daryl looked like he wanted to jump out of his own skin. The clothes not looking to comfortable and the grime on his skin. He nodded looking at the paper, “Ya I’ll do that.” He looked at you and the house but he couldn’t seem to walk away from you. You wrote again, “I can sit outside the door?” He shook his head, “Nah I got it, go try and eat beautiful.” You smile at the familiar nickname. He said it first teasingly after watching Glenn and Maggie being cheesy, however now he couldn’t seem to stop. You pointed to a trailer slowly walking backwards to it.

You and Daryl now lay facing each other in bed. You grabbed his hand tracing ‘I <3 U’. His hand closing around yours. “I love you too, there is no me in your absence.” He pushed a hair behind your ear, “least not one I liked.” You moved his hand to your chest, proof you heart still beat. The cling of metal of your rings hitting each other. You smile and wrote down, “Guess I can’t go anywhere then.”

You upheld this promise throughout the entirety of the war. Not even a half a day later came when Rick came to Hilltop looking for aid. He was happy to see you. Carl and Michonne gushing over you. Then when Daryl rounded the corner you could see everyone relieved again. You wrote,

“All happy to see a Dixon.”

You didn’t have much of a roll in the war. The only major thing was when the trash people betrayed them. It was the first time Negan saw you again. His eyes were on Daryl before turning to you. “Well shit you’re supposed to be dead. Guess your witch trail proved your one.” He looked back to Daryl before saying, “What should we do next? Drown her in the river?”

He was locked away now though. Rotting in a jail cell. You had disagreed heavily with Rick’s decision keeping him alive. He gave you nightmares. But after a while Rick suggested you seeing how what he was going through was worse than death. You had gained back the ability to eat. You still were working on talking. Now there you are standing in front of Negan. Pen and paper in hand. He expected you to kill him, even pleaded with you to do so. Rick had been right. You wrote something on the paper and stared back to Negan.

Negan tried taunting as always, “What? Cat got your tongue?” He was smug but you pulled his attention to the sheet of paper. You crumpled it in your hands. You threw the balled up paper through the bars of his cell. Staring at it before walking out the door. Negan scoffed going to unravel your message.

“Welcome to Hell.”

The End.

Feedback welcomed and requests always opened!

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

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emo-daryl · 2 days

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Norman looks like a kitten in this for some reason

#Norman Reedus

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darylsdelts · 1 day

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Hi lovely, how are you? I saw a TikTok where this girl was babying her partner to see how he’d react. It got me thinking what would Daryl be like if he was half asleep or half awake on his partner’s chest while they call him all sorts of sweet names and kiss his face and play with his hair. Sorry if it’s cringey!!! I just love babying men 🤣🤣

OH MY GOD I SAW THIS TOO AND INSTANTLY THOUGHT OF DARYL!!! RAHHHHH!!!

Okay picture this, It’s super early in the morning and you wake up first which is unusual, usually Daryl is already up and gone by now but today you wake up to the archers messy hair spread across your chest.

He had a tough day yesterday which probably explains why he’s still letting out soft snores into your pillowy breast. One of his arms is bent and held to his chest, the other is on you, his hand flattened over your collarbone.

His lips are parted ever so slightly, looking down you can see his cute nose nuzzled against your sternum.

You move your hand, the one that isn’t on his back, very slowly to hook his hair behind his ear so you can get a good look at his soft and fair eyebrows and his relaxed eyelids.

HE LOOKS LIKE A SNUGGLY BABY!

His nose twitches slightly when his hair is moved away, letting out an almost missable whiny sound.

Your force yourself not to giggle so that your chest doesn’t move whilst he gently rubs his cheek on your chest, nuzzling further.

You bend your neck to plant a kiss on the top of his head, your hand now cupping his jaw and your thumb stroking over his stubbly cheek.

“Good morning sleepy baby…”

He groans quietly, actually sounding like a cranky toddler.

“Nuhh” his protest is so quiet you almost miss it.

“You look so pretty Dare Bear”

God, how that nickname makes him cringe (he secretly loves it but he’s never want you saying it in front of anyone)

“Mmm shuddup”

Your other hand rubs his back, softly squeezing his side then rubbing circles on his hip over his boxers. You remember him almost falling asleep in his jeans last night when you were playing with his hair, you had to practically undo them and pull them off of him.

EEPY BABY OMGGGG

He still has his shirt on though, there was no way you were getting his head off your chest last night to pull it off.

“C’mon stinker, let’s get up”

He grumbles.

“If you get up now, I’ll make you toasts and cut the crusts off…” you bargain.

He starts to shift up into a sitting position.

“Hmmmphh… evil woman…”

I definitely just made up a few words but whatever. He’s baby and he prefers toast without crusts because he’s a little prince and a brat. Teehee! Thanks for the request anon!!

#daryl dixon imagine #the walking dead fanfiction #twd daryl #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl x reader #norman reedus #daryl dixon smut #daryl smut #twd smut

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majima4587 · 2 days

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"Andy just send me this " - Norman Reedus ❤️

#richonne #the ones who live #michonne #rick grimes #the walking dead #andrew lincoln #danai gurira #norman reedus #daryl dixon

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while-return-buy-respond · 14 hours

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#iphone wallpaper #sugar bowl #actor #remus lupin smut #EastEnders #lovely breasts #poetsandwriters #beomgyu #wetlands #CMBYN #norman reedus #balenciaga

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fly-during · 1 day

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#wetlands #CMBYN #norman reedus #scenecore #pantied #south korea #spring #Jeremy Sumpter #denki kaminari #cuddles

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gneebee · 2 days

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Random Posts by Norman

#norman reedus #daryl dixon #bigbaldhead #twd #the walking dead #twd daryl #norm #bbh #daryl dixon twd

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under-want-region · 2 days

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#peyton list #tears of the kingdom #remus lupin smut #haircut #kat graham #camaro #bass #wetlands #CMBYN #madison ivy #norman reedus

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celtic-crossbow · 1 day

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Norman and Melissa in Alexandria on April 24, 2024. 🩵🩵🩵

#norman reedus #melissa mcbride #my heart

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dixons-sunshine · 22 hours

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Cleansing The Mind, The Soul And The Body | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF credits to @reedusmcbridedaily.*

Summary: Getting Daryl to take a shower or a bath when he wasn't in the mood was never easy. It took a lot of skillful convincing and even some bribery. Luckily, as his wife, all it took was a batting of your eyelashes and he was putty in your hands—and you took this to your advantage.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Alexandria; post Saviour arc, pre the building of the bridge.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of past abuse, Daryl's scars.

Word count: 1.6k

A/n: A fic born from this idea by @louifaith. Hope you like this! This was originally supposed to be a 500 word blurb but I got carried away lol.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

The sun was almost completely gone from the sky. The first stars of the night sky were twinkling brightly outside the window of the bathroom in your shared home with Daryl, and the calming, cool breeze was flowing in through the slightly open window. The water was starting to fill up the bathtub, and you meticulously added just enough bubble bath liquid you had found on a run a few weeks prior.

Behind you, Daryl was reluctantly slowly undressing himself, carelessly tossing his shirt into the laundry hamper. He was grumbling to himself under his breath, making you laugh lightly.

“Whatever you want to say, you can say it to my face, Dixon,” you joked, turning the faucet off and turning around to face your half naked husband.

Daryl rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Nothin',” he answered, slowly stepping out of his jeans and boxers and walking over to the bathtub and settling into the bubbly water. “Let's just get this fuckin' over with already.”

You chuckled affectionately, settling onto your knees beside the bathtub and bringing a hand up to brush through his hair. Even though the archer didn't admit it, the warm water of the bathtub was soothing the aches in his body. And your soft hand gently threading through his hair had him practically melting into the water. Despite originally being against the idea of having you bathe him, insisting that he wasn't a little kid and he didn't need someone cleaning him, if he was already so content with just your hand in his hair, he didn't even want to know how relaxed he'd feel if you were to gently wash him.

Daryl subconsciously leaned into your touch and let out a small, content sigh, eliciting a light laugh from you. “Relaxed? I thought you didn't want this. Didn't you say that you "didn't need to be babied" and that "this would be a waste of time"?”

Daryl grumbled under his breath, lightly swatting your hand away. “Shut up,” he mumbled, trying to hide how his lips twitched up into a smile.

You giggled and leaned over the bathtub, catching his lips for a quick, tender kiss, before pulling away again. “Okay, handsome. What first? Body or hair?”

“Hair,” Daryl replied slowly, suddenly feeling hyper aware of the fact that he was naked and vulnerable in front of your eyes.

You nodded and carefully got to work on his hair, wetting it and carefully applying shampoo, working it into his hair while lightly scratching his scalp. “I love your hair. Long hair really suits you.”

“Yeah?” he asked, looking at you.

“Yeah. It compliments your features perfectly. I love it.”

Daryl closed his eyes and basked in the caring, loving moment. However, he couldn't help the nervousness that creeped up on him. The scars on his body were on full display, but luckily the ones on his back were hidden from your view for now. He chastised himself for feeling so insecure about his scars—you were his partner for two years before you became his wife a couple of months prior, and a loyal companion and friend for two years before that, dating all the way back to the quarry. You were well aware of his scars and about his father's abuse, and always worshipped him and reassured him that his scars were nothing to be ashamed of, but that didn't stop his insecurity from creeping up from time to time.

And what should've been a loving, tender moment could potentially be ruined by his insecurity.

While applying the conditioner to his hair, you noticed his now opened eyes staring ahead at the wall, his eyebrows furrowed together as he subconsciously crossed his arms over his chest, right over his scars. You instantly knew what was going through his mind, and you took it on yourself to lift his spirits.

You gently cupped his cheek with one of your hands, prompting him to look at you. His beautiful, ocean coloured eyes locked with your eyes, and you could clearly see the turmoil within their beautiful depths. It made your heart ache to know that someone caused the man you loved so much harm. If his father was still alive, Daryl wouldn't have had to worry about a confrontation with him. No, you would've given the man a taste of his own cruel medicine and after that, you would've killed him.

“Baby,” you whispered softly. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”

Daryl could feel a blush creep up onto his cheeks. He scoffed and ducked his head, letting his wet hair fall in front of his eyes. “Stop,” he mumbled, but he couldn't help the small smile that crept up onto his face.

You giggled and tucked his hair behind his ears. “You are! You're so beautiful, Daryl. I can't believe how lucky I got with you. I won't be surprised if every woman here has a crush on you. Well, except Tara, but other than her...”

“Nah,” he denied and shook his head in disagreement. “Ain't no woman who would give me the time of day 'cept ya. 'Sides, even if there were, I ain't need no other woman. I already have the perfect one.”

You smiled and leaned over for another kiss, this one lasting longer than the previous one. You pulled back with a soft laugh, admiring the man who you'd come to love above everything else.

“And you swear on your life that you're not a romantic. That last line was smooth, Dixon,” you mused, grabbing the soap bar that smelled like lavender and turned back to the archer. “Is this okay?” you asked, motioning to his body.

Daryl's heart swelled at your thoughtfulness. You never wanted to do something that would make him uncomfortable, and he appreciated you for that. Nobody understood him quite like you did.

“Yeah, s'fine,” he replied with a nod, pushing that nagging voice in the back of his mind away. You loved him, every part of him. If you didn't, you would've run for the hills a long time ago. You weren't freaked out by his scars. You loved him for him, scars and all, and he'd be damned if he let his self deprecating thoughts ruin a good, loving moment.

The two of you remained in a comfortable silence for a few minutes while you continued to wash his body. However, when he slowly sat forward so that you could wash his back, you broke the serene silence with your loving, soft whispers.

“You're so strong, Dar,” you whispered, gently tracing your soapy fingers over his scars. An involuntary shiver traveled across Daryl's spine, eliciting a small giggle from you. “You're a warrior. You've been fighting to live the life you deserve even before the dead started rising. You've been surviving for far longer than most of us. That makes you so fucking brave, baby. And I know you don't feel like it, but you deserved to be loved, and you are loved. Rick loves you. Michonne loves you. Carol, Maggie, Rosita, Aaron, all of them. But I can assure you, nobody loves you as much as I do. I've never loved anyone as much as I love you. I'd die for you. I'd kill for you. I'd do anything for you.”

Daryl inhaled sharply. He swallowed hard, willing the lump in his throat to go away. Hearing that from you was exactly what he needed in that moment. He knew it would be a long journey for him until he actually believed he was worthy of love, worthy of your love, but with you by his side, he knew he'd get there eventually.

“I love ya,” he whispered, staring into your eyes to let you know he meant it. He truly did love you. Nothing could ever change that.

“I love you too,” you answered with a smile, gently rinsing the soap from his back before grabbing the handheld showerhead and instructing him to lean his head back. You carefully rinsed the conditioner from his hair, bringing an end to the bath time.

You grabbed a towel and shook it out, using it to dry your husband. He looked at you in amusement but allowed you to do so, not-so-secretly enjoying the attention you were giving him. You then grabbed the fresh pair of boxers and handed it to him, as well as a pair of flannel pants. He got dressed in them and turned back at you.

“Lift your arms,” you instructed, watching the man lift an eyebrow at you but complying nonetheless. You helped him slip his shirt on, and after he was dressed, you wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled your face into his clothed chest.

Daryl wasted no time in returning the hug. He tightly wrapped his arms around you, placing a kiss to the top of your head before resting his chin there. He gently rocked you from side to side.

“Dar?” you whispered, catching his attention.

“Hm?”

“Do you wanna cuddle?”

“Mhm.”

“You wanna be the little spoon?” you asked, giggling as Daryl's arms tightened around you. You already knew what the answer was without him having to say anything. “C'mon. Let's go to bed, handsome.”

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