#daryl oneshot

[feral4daryl]

masterlist || MDNI

sweet scent.

perv!daryl x fem!reader

summary: while looking for his crossbow around the house, daryl ends up finding a pile of your dirty clothes and... used panties of yours. and when no one's looking, he decides to have some fun with them.

warnings: EXTREME AGE GAP (daryl is in his late 30s/early 40s and reader is 18), not entirely proofread, smut, mean!daryl sort of, corruption kink, daryl being an absolute pervert, panties sniffing, daddy kink, masturbation, cussing, daryl imagining himself doing the dirtiest things to you (unprotected p-in-v, squirting, face fucking, praising, loss of virginity, cunnilingus and i think that's pretty much it)

word count: 2.8k

a/n: please proceed with caution, this piece of work portrays a few extreme or unusual fetishes, so if you're not comfortable with any of those i've listed above please do not ready this. the idea that inspired this work originally belongs to @dilfsandmartinis.

if there was something daryl absolutely hated, it was the feeling of uselessness.

since andrea had mistaken him for a walker and shot him from afar, grazing his head, useless was exactly how he felt, having to lay down on a bed the whole day and night, doing absolutely nothing but be left alone with his own thoughts. and oh, what a disgraceful fate.

everytime he wasn't focused on hunting, fighting or surviving in general, the farmer's sweet younger daughter flooded his mind. your hair, your face, your stupidly adorable sundresses, everything about you was so... distracting.

daryl wasn't ever the kind of guy to simp for a woman, but that one specific girl made him feel emotions and sensations that were hidden deep within his being for years, maybe even decades. feelings he thought had vanished from his heart a long time ago were now blooming all over again, like he was some stupid teenager looking at a playboy magazine for the first time.

there was something about your innocence, your adorable mannerisms, your sweet voice and your kindness that had awakened something in him, something he wasn't quite sure what it was.

no, he wasn't exactly a young man. and while being aware that you were very young, he couldn't help but feel so guilty for having those feelings. whenever you bended over to pick something up, he had to fight demons not to have a glimpse of your panties. he often wondered how could you be so careless by exposing yourself like that, even if you didn't do it on purpose.

and there was him again, thinking about you. it's like no matter how hard he tried to push those thoughts away, they were like water, always finding a way in.

he huffed, feeling defeated. he knew he was still recovering from the incident, and that he should rest, but why was he following orders around anyways? he wasn't a damn puppy. plus, everybody else had left him there to go looking for sophia. he wanted to be able to help too. he was alive after all, and if he was alive, he believed he should be on his feet.

so that's what he did. he slowly lifted his right foot, resting it on the floor, then he did the same with his left one. his body reluctantly lifted itself up, and he immediately could feel the consequences for laying down for so long, his back killing him and his vision a bit foggy. anyways, he ignored any discomfort and started walking slowly, his head still a little dizzy.

then, he remembered he needed his trustworthy crossbow, he couldn't just leave unprotected like that. he looked around the room he was settled in but it was nowhere to be seen. he knew it was still in the house, so he left the room. he started walking down the corridor, his eyes attentively looking for any signs of his crossbow. he was even starting to think that his mates might've hidden it to force him to stay in the house when he spotted a halfway open door.

his calloused hands pulled it open, revealing a small bedroom, all pink themed and stupidly decorated. no, his crossbow wasn't likely to be there, it just looked like it belonged to one of hershel's daughters, but it was like something was calling him in.

he stepped in the room and it almost looked messy. the dressing table on the corner had lipsticks, combs, all sorts of make-up and girly stuff all piled up and... a perfume.

it was happening again, images of you flooded his mind and it was like he could almost smell you. oh, your sweet scent had the power to make him hard like nothing else. just by looking at that small bottle, just by imagining your scent, he could feel little shock waves travelling all the way down to his cock, threatening to awaken it.

he knew it was wrong, so fucking wrong thinking about a much younger girl like that. and it was even worse considering that you were the daughter of the man that provided him shelter in such difficult times. it felt ungrateful.

when he saw you for the first time, he didn't think much of you. he was actually careful, treating you like the stranger you were. and even when time passed, he never really got close to you. now and then you tried to share a word, even if just a little bit, but it seemed useless since he would reject all your attempted approaches. he didn't hate you like he tried to after acknowledging his disgusting desires for you, but he just couldn't allow himself to interact with a girl that made him sick to his stomach for all the wrong reasons.

your sweetness was almost annoying. the entire world had gone to shit, for goodness sake! dead bodies walking around and eating all the people they could find. how could you act so clueless all the time? daryl even wondered if you had ever seen a walker before, if you knew what was really happening out there. after all, it was very obvious that you were a daddy's girl, always protected under your father's wing.

but strangely enough, acknowledging that only made him protective towards you. he was always somewhat watching, always around you making sure you were safe and he barely knew why, he just felt like he should.

so he didn't stop himself from reaching over to your small perfume bottle. the design was very simple, no labels to be seen, time had probably faded it away. the cap was baby pink and heart shaped, and when he removed it, he immediately brought the bottle to his nose, giving it a gentle sniff.

fuck.

now, he was 100% sure that was your room. the fragrance was the same one that filled his nose and made him drunk in you everytime you walked by. he wondered if that was the scent he would feel if he ever hugged you, burying his face into your chest.

in that moment, he couldn't think about anything else, not rick, not carol, not his chores, not surviving, not even sophia. you were everything that he had in his fucked up mind.

he wouldn't feel so fucking guilty if his thoughts were only about your innocence and sweetness, but they were also dirty as fuck. countless were the times when daryl imagined groping you, running his hands all over your delicate body, feeling every texture, squeezing every junk and listening close to your every little whimper. he would pull your hair, gently at first, just to get it off your face and neck so he could pamper them with little wet kisses, gently scratching his teeth along them. he imagined he'd have to keep you on your feet himself, since you'd struggle to because of how weak your knees would get at all the sensations he would provide you and...

wait, no.

what was he thinking? was he out his fucking mind? he needed to stop those absolutely disgusting thoughts right away. he couldn't keep having those thoughts about you, not when you're out taking care of such important business with the others. he put the perfume bottle back on the dressing table, determined to let all that go. he knew he couldn't just let himself get so distracted like that over something so mundane and unimportant as his own sexual desires but then...

...he spotted a basket filled with clothes when he turned around to leave. his mind immediately started to rush all over again, and for the 100th time that day, he turned careless. he slowly approached it. shorts, tops, pants and so on could be seen at the top of the pile.

in that moment, he had totally forgot why he had entered that bedroom or even left his bed in the first place. he couldn't even remember the existence of his crossbow or his duties.

and then... he gets an idea. he starts going through the pile of dirty clothes and in no time, he finds your panties. they were white with a pink ribbon on the front, a clear reminder of your innocence. for a moment, he just looks at it, contemplating the possibilities. then, he remembers seeing you in it when you bended over to pick some off the floor the day before. he remembers catching a glimpse of it under your yellow sundress when you went to change his bandage.

that meant that those panties had been freshly worn.

if just your perfume ignited such vile desires in him, he couldn't even imagine what your natural scent could do to him. and he was oh so curious to find out. he still felt guilty, but that man had been sex deprived for so fucking long, he didn't even masturbate very often. he knew damn well he was about to commit a big mistake, maybe even starting something he was sure he couldn't finish, but he finally made up his mind.

he flips the small piece of cloth over, eyeing the soft-looking lining of the panties. he gulps, feeling his mouth water right away. god, what was he doing? what was right, what was wrong wasn't even important to him anymore. he just wanted to embrace his sickness.

there was a small stain on the lining, probably from you wearing it. just that sight alone was enough to get him off, and once again, he found himself having to face that tingling sensation inside his pants. he knew damn well what that meant and what was about to happen. but honestly, he couldn't give a single fuck anymore.

in one quick motion, he brought the fabric to his face, giving a long sniff while he rolled his eyes to the back of his head. that fucking scent of yours got him drunk the moment it filled his nostrils. so intense, so feminine and raw, daryl couldn't remember the last time he felt that type of pleasure, or if he had even felt anything like it before.

it made him needy like a horny teenager. he felt himself going back to puberty when all he could think about was jacking off day and night. and it was all your fucking fault.

daryl palmed himself through his denim pants, never taking your panties off his face not even for one second. the natural scent of your cunt was more than successful to make him hard as a rock, the sensation of being in his pants started to get uncomfortable as his dick grew bigger and bigger.

just palming himself wasn't enough.

he slowly unbuttoned his pants and unzipped them, inserting one of his hand in his briefs to catch his hard cock in it, freeing it for the first time in a while. his angry-red tip was literally pulsating while a clear and sticky liquid dropped down his length.

he wasn't able to hold a small grunt as he wrapped his calloused hand around his cock, the rough sensation of his fingers causing him to feel a jolt of pleasure so fucking delicious and guilty at the same time. the archer brought his hand to his mouth, catching some of his saliva to use as lube.

oh, how he wished you were there. he'd make sure you'd get his cock nice and wet with your spit so you could rub it up and down. and then, without warnings, he'd just shove it down your throat, forcing you to prove how much of a good girl you could be just for him.

and just for him. he wanted you all for his own. daryl never really liked to share, specially when it came to a girl like you, so princess like, so adorable looking. your plump lips looked so fucking perfect, and they would look even more wrapped around his big cock.

knowing how fragile you were, he knew you would definitely choke and gag on him, struggling to fit all of him in your mouth. he would whisper sweet encouragement words to you like “tha's it, tha's ma good girl”. he imagined how he would hold your head in place and keep a hand on your throat so he could feel his cock while he aggressively pumped it in and out, making you drool all over him. “just like tha', yeah, show daddy how fuckin' good ya are fer him”.

in his imagination, you would look up at him with those big doe eyes of yours, with a mix of uncertainty and desire to make him proud. “am i doing this right, daddy?” he could almost hear your voice saying it whenever you would take him off his mouth to catch your breath for a moment, never disconnecting your small hand from his thick length.

he started pumping faster, squelching sounds were all that could be heard in that silent room, a proof of his degeneracy. the grunts and stifled moans were only getting harder and harder to hold back. he was sticking those panties to his face and sniffing on them like his life depended on it, like he was a desperate virgin.

a virgin. he wondered if you were one. you sure looked like it, your dad never let you out of sight for long enough for you to try something like that, he supposed from what he knew about your relationship. he imagined how would it feel like to be the one to pop your cherry for the first time.

oh, he would teach you so many things, everything he knows. he would guide you through it all along, teaching you where to touch, where to kiss, where to lick. he would make your virgin little cunny cum so many times it would get all puffy and red. he even wondered if he could make you squirt, stuffing you with his fingers, brushing against your sweet spot over and over again until you were a quivering mess, squirting all over his skull tattoo. and yes, he would make you lick his fingers clean, your sweet little tongue dragging across them, and then, he would kneel down in front of you, not wanting to waste a single drop of your sweet release, attacking your sensitive clit and slit with his lips and tongue.

fuck, fuck, fuck.

he was so fucking eager to taste your slick, to revel in your salty taste. he imagined how fucking good the smell he was getting from your panties was from the actual source. he would lick it all, your lips, your slit, even your ass, but he would give special attention to your little clit, flicking his tongue on it, making it cum again just for him. he would never grow tired of it.

and when he felt you were finally ready for him, he would bend you over just like you used to do so absentmindedly. he would be gentle at first, but knowing himself, he knew he wouldn't be able to hold himself back for too long before absolutely railing the shit out of you, making you cry out and scream his name in pleasure and pain.

and when he flipped you over on your back, he would be able to see the bulge on your lower belly caused by his big cock inside you. just by imagining that he felt himself getting close to the edge. he would press his hand on it, making the little room inside your pussy even tighter. fuck, he imagined the sweet sounds you would make just for him.

all those dirty thoughts and your sweet scent from your panties were more than enough to make shivers run down his spine and his whole body tremble. he kept his eyes shut tight as he licked a stripe on the lining of your panties, trying to get some of your delicious taste. meanwhile, he hadn't stopped his hands not even for a second, harshly rubbing his cock up and down until it was too much.

in a strangled moan, his cock started shooting spurt after spurt of thick cum onto the floor, the dressing table and pretty much anything that was around. he couldn't remember the last time he had such an intense orgasm, the sensation making his mind completely empty except for your image.

his movements got slower until they stopped and he let go of his now sensitive cock. he sighed after catching his breath. he was left with that afterglow and the feeling that he made a huge mistake. suddenly, he felt dirty like before. he opened his eyes slowly, removing your panties from his face and putting them in his pockets. yeah, he knew it was wrong, but he was still planning to keep them for later.

then, when he averted his gaze to the mirror on his side, he saw...

you. standing on the doorframe with a shocked look on your face.

“u-uncle daryl?”

[PART TWO]

a/n: i know, i'm disgusting. i'm sorry. (just a quick reminder, english isn't my first language, so please excuse any grammar mistakes or awkward phrasing lmao, and tysm if you read it this far)

#daryl dixon #norman reedus #the walking dead #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon twd #daryl twd #twd daryl dixon #daryl x you #daryl x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x yn #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl oneshot #norman reedus x reader #twd smut #daryl smut #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl drabbles #daryl dixon fanfics #daryl fluff #daryl angst #daryl x fem!reader #daryl dixon x yn #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x fem!reader

[sleepyangelkami]

WICKED d.dixon

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 2.1K

DARYL DIXON X FEM!READER

 ☆ SUMMARY - you were sensitive, daryl was hot headed. daryl often carried anger in his voice to protect you, never did you think he'd use it against you.

 ☆ WARNINGS - yelling, argument, sensitive!reader, blood, gore, fighting walkers, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

the prison had fallen, tensions were rising. it was just you and daryl on the roads now, attempting to find your group again. you should have noticed the way he shook his head earlier or the way he sighed loudly and squeezed his eyes shut.

you cursed yourself for not knowing sooner.

daryl dixon was never a man that anyone could say was overly patient. but when it came to you, he’d wait years for you to utter a mere sentence. he was suddenly as patient as they come. but that didn’t change his true nature.

you’d been separated from the group for quite a while now. it was just the two of you on the roads.

at first, you’d been silent as a mouse, wondering if everyone was okay.

soon after, you realised that it was daryl who was also just as silent. you began speaking, in hopes of raising his mood. you assured him, the group had found their way back to them hundreds of times before, this would undoubtedly be no different.

but daryl didn’t so much as glance at you, barely letting out a grunt before turning his head. obviously, your plan in trying to lift his mood only dampened it.

however, you didn’t stop there.

and you should have, you really should have.

perhaps if you’d spent less time talking and waffling on, he wouldn’t be as angry as he was. perhaps if you’d just listened to him and nodded with your head bent, he wouldn’t have snapped.

albeit everything was happening so quickly.

you hadn’t even registered the infected make their way out. it took only moments before your life practically flashed before your eyes.

daryl’s back was against yours, his own knife out as he plunged it into walkers heads. in return, you attempted to do the same, holding the knife at it’s base with shaky hands. but you weren’t strong nor brave like daryl was. when fighting, it was obvious just how different the two of you were, how different you’ve always been. and you couldn’t lie as to say it wasn’t throwing you off your game.

not that you ever really had game.

a walker grabbed at your shoulders causing you to let out a fearful whimper. you used the time you had to plunge the knife into it’s head. your eyes widened as you missed the brain, blood spurted out into your face and onto your clothes. you took the knife out and tried again, this time the walker fell limp at your feet. 

before you could so much as try and attempt to take out another walker, one practically lurched onto you from the side.

daryl felt you hit against his back and cursed you. you were so damn clumsy and usually, he was okay with it. more often than not he’d smile at you, kiss your hurt forehead and tell you that you must begin looking where you’re going but now, he was anything but comforting. if anything, it took everything in him not to spin around and yell at you then and there.

but he didn’t, merely because he was too preoccupied with killing the walker in his hands. he plunged the knife forward, hitting two walkers and piercing straight through their heads. with a separate hand, he shoved the knife into another.

he couldn’t deny the relief that flooded his veins as he took out every last walker on his side.

he rolled his eyes before readying his arms, beginning to spin around and just knowing you’d need help. 

his eyes widened at the sight of you on the ground.

foot pushing up against a walker, you attempted to get it away. while another was crawling on you, you could have let out a whimper, knowing your knife had been tossed away from you.

there were too many.

as if the ‘big man in the sky’ had answered your prayers, you closed your eyes shut at the feeling of blood spurting out onto your face. finally, you peeled them open upon the sound of groaning and gargling coming to a stop. the sight of daryl dixon came into view, he’d taken out every last walker.

and he did not look pleased.

“daryl―” you couldn’t so much as get a word out. before you could even try to defend your cause, he was speaking. 

“are you fuckin’ stupid?!” daryl was an angry man, through and through. he channelled that anger, using it for things like this, taking out walkers or any other said enemy. never, had you been on the receiving end of his bellowing voice. “you ain’ gonna fucking make it out here if you need me watching your back every other second!” 

you could feel your eyes sting, pathetically.

you didn’t want to cry nor did you want to let daryl see you cry, not like this. he’d wiped your tears a thousand times over, even if it was because someone was yelling at you. you’d claim that it’s no big deal, that you were being dramatic and he’d always swoop in, telling you that it’s not dramatic and nobody should yell at a ‘flower like you’. you wondered what changed. “i was trying.” you uttered out pathetically once more, voice all broken.

“wasn’t tryin’ enough!” his hand roughly grabbed yours, practically hoisting you up from the ground. you let out the smallest of whimpers. not because it hurt but because you’d never seen him this angry at you. “are you hurt?” but his voice was anything but caring. it seemed as though you were just another burden to him.

instead of replying, you merely shook your head, it was bent down so he couldn’t see your watery eyes.

but he took it as a well enough response, because he cleared his throat, pocketing his knife. “we have to keep moving.” you wondered if he’d fallen guilty after his words spat you in the face, you guessed he did because for the duration of the walk, he kept glancing back at you, as if to see if you were still so upset.

and you were.

perhaps it really was a silly thing to be upset about. but daryl knew how much you hated yelling. he was well aware of all the baggage it came from, the flashbacks it may have caused. he knew you better than anyone, he’d been the one to wipe your tears from the same thing many times ago. 

deep down you knew he was only yelling because the emotions were high. he was worried about the kids of the prison, everyone else. he was worried about rick and carl, carol and judith, everyone there was to worry about, he was doing the worrying. he got in his head like that a lot.

but that didn’t change the fact that he’d yelled at you so easily, as if he’d been dying to all day. 

and could you so much as blame him anymore? you had been talking his ear off. no doubt, because you thought you were doing the right thing but you tried to put yourself in his shoes. you’d get annoyed too, right? 

the difference between you both?

you never would have so much as dreamed about talking to him the way he spoke to you. 

“there’s a cabin around here, we’ll hole up for the night.” he received no response, so he turned his head. “y’ listening?” 

once again, you didn’t speak, merely nodding. he sighed before turning his head and squeezing his eyes shut. he didn’t apologise, stubborn to the end. he didn’t often apologise to you, probably because he never found himself in a position where he had to but you were the complete opposite, always apologising profoundly for everything you did, even if it hadn’t been your fault.

you wondered if he wasn’t apologising because he wasn’t actually sorry.

he used his hand to beat down on the door, waiting to hear groans and gurgles. when he didn’t, he opened the door, peering inside. it was safe.

he let you go, watching as you practically scurried inside, ready to get away from the horrid outside world. maybe you were ready to get away from him. he found guilt eating at his insides, like a walker biting into flesh. the thought of you being angry with him was worse than the thought of getting bit right about now.

but he knew you, knew you more than anyone. and he knew you weren’t angry with him, you were merely upset.

stubborn as he was, he needed to make it better for he shouldn’t have yelled at you, as annoyed as he was.

after lighting a fire, he made his way towards the kitchen, where he somehow knew you’d be. as if he could sense your presence and everywhere it loomed. he could have spotted the back of your head from a mile away. there you were, stood in the kitchen in front of the sink, you must have been checking if they had running water. surprise, surprise, they didn’t. 

he leaned his body against the door frame, head gently landing on it as he watched you. you were yet to notice his presence, your hands scrubbing dryly at the other. there was blood coating all over your hands, not your own, walker blood. you needed it off and you needed it off now.

daryl knew how you got, always fussing over getting dirty as it was but when it came to walkers, you didn’t want any of it on you. it was always a challenge when the group was willingly putting walker guts all over their coats to disguise themselves.

he’d had enough of watching you, opting to walk inside the room. “c’mere, angel.” you heard his words, freezing up and he could only feel guilt eat at his bones. he carried a cloth, slightly damp. you allowed him to take your hands in his own, cloth gently working against the dirtied skin. “y’alright?” you didn’t respond, nodding.

you hadn’t so much as opened his mouth since he’d yelled at you. 

“baby…” and then he heard it, the mere sniffle that had you turning your head. 

“‘m okay.” voice cracking showing that you were not, in fact, okay. 

he could only frown at you. he felt you try to move away but his hands kept you still, grasping your own and keeping you in place. he waited in silence until you were ready to look up at him. when you did, he almost wished you’d hadn’t. your eyes were red rimmed and watery. you’d been crying. no longer was there that judgemental piece in his eyes. instead, you could only catch the guilt swarming in them.

“‘m sorry.” was the words that you practically clung to, that left his mouth. “‘m so sorry, baby, c’mere.” you felt his arms wrap you up.

you were too upset to argue.

so instead, you allowed him to take you into an embrace, hell you threw your arms around his neck to hold him impossibly closer. there was that gentle feeling again, the one you’d longed for so much. but you couldn’t have asked, no. how could you ask for comfort from the same person that’d hurt you in the first place?

thankfully, daryl made most of your decisions for you.

“‘m sorry.” you croaked out. “i wasn’t looking and then the walker just came out of nowhere and i swear i tried―”

daryl was quick to cut you off.

your head was held in his own dirty hands. though you hated the dirt on yourself, there was almost a comforting feeling to the dirt on him. perhaps it was the familiarity. “you ain’ got nothin’ to be sorry for, alright? nobody should yell at you, ‘specially not me.” 

you didn’t know whether to agree or not.

“you did what you could ‘n i’m proud of you, y’know that?” you felt your eyes begin to get watery again, god you wished you could stop crying. as if he could read your mind, he spoke, “‘n it’s okay to cry, i was bein’ an asshole.” 

you sniffled before giggling slightly. “you were.” 

he couldn’t help the way his lips turned up at the sound he’d missed so dearly. “yeah, i was, wasn’t i? ‘m just… worried, y’know? for everyone. not everyone has a flower like you in their group.” 

you shook your head with a sniffle, ignoring his words directed to you. “they’re gonna be fine, we’ll find ‘em.”

“yeah, we will.” he nodded, as if whatever came from your mouth, he could suddenly believe. you had that effect on him that he’d never tell. “but right now, i jus’ care about you, alright? c’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.”

and how could you deny hands once so angry, now so gentle?

main masterlist/daryl's masterlist

#daryl #daryl dixon #daryl x reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x you #daryl dixon x you #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl imagine #daryl dixon imagine #daryl drabble #daryl oneshot #daryl smut #daryl fluff #daryl angst #daryl dixon drabble #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon angst #the walking dead #twd #twd x reader #twd x y/n #twd x you #twd imagine #twd fluff #twd angst #twd oneshot #daryl the walking dead

[mushrubes]

The Beach

Masterlist | The walking dead Masterlist

Requested : No

Song : The Beach - The Neighbourhood

Pairing : Daryl Dixon x reader (No use of Y/n)

Pronouns : you/yours

Type : fluff + angst

Contents : mutual pinning, slightly canon divergent, best friends :)

Word count : 2k

Have a great day / night !!

----

If I told you that I loved you Tell me, what would you say?

His gaze was almost instantly on you, not moving off once as he watched you talk to Shane. He made his way over to the stables, mumbling about something to himself as he carefully opened the gate, undoing the rope that was keeping it tied up to the post. "Hey." you called, making him jump slightly. Daryl nodded, not responding with words as he carefully saddled the horse up.

"You leaving already?" you asked, slightly upset and worried for him. He had gotten back late last night and he'd had at least three hours of sleep - if he slept at all. "Gotta find 'er." he shrugged, his gaze lingering on you longer than it normally did. You frowned, reaching into your pockets and pulling something out while he watched in curiosity.

"Take this at least, so I know you have something." you instructed, handing him the bar as he hesitantly took it, looking back at you. "Be careful, " you mumbled as your hands brushed slightly, making you blush. "I...uh...yeah." he stumbled, lifting himself onto the horse as you helped them out.

Why couldn't he just tell you.

If I told you that I hated you Would you go away?

"Daryl!" you shouted, cutting his rant off. "Go, let me talk to him." you whispered, earning a worried look from Carol as she knew how Daryl was in situations like this. Once you had convinced her you'd be okay, you watched her disappear into the house with the others while you stayed with him. "Whaddya want?" Daryl grumbled, trying to turn away from you but you caught his wrist.

"It's not your fault." you assured, bracing yourself for his next words. He wasn't one to let his guard down easily, so it took some reasonable prying. However, like most people, it didn't always work and could sometimes anger him more so you were cautious with it. "Whatever. Jus' go away, don' even know why yer here, I hate yer." he grumbled, still ranting. You grimaced at his words, aware that he didn't mean it but it hurt nonetheless.

And it hurt him too. He hated it about himself sometimes. With the world having gone to shit, people like you were hard to come by, and here he was, being a dick. Perhaps it was one of the many reasons he felt comfortable with you, although he had never admitted that to anyone. Considering his family life and what he had to endure, never once did he think his life would end up like this. His walls were like a safety blanket, especially since Merle had left before the apocalypse. He'd been forced to toughen up, and now he struggled with letting anyone in. But you were patient, and no matter what, had time for him.

That was most likely why he was confused when you didn't leave him after he had said the words. You had stayed right by his side, sitting with him whether he opened up about what was bothering him, whether he apologised or let you in - it didn't matter. Too consumed in his thoughts, the pair of you were now sat on the porch stairs, not sharing words but still there for each other. The usual inches between the two of you were gone, bodies next to each other.

And when he intertwined his hand with yours, you didn't pull away.

Now I need your help with everything that I do I don't want to lie, I've been relying on you

His face softened as he realised it was you that called his name. "Come on a supply run with me, please? The only other option is Shane and..." you paused, Daryl wasting no time in getting up and putting his knife away before picking up his crossbow.

"C'mon." he assured, squeezing your shoulder as he walked past. He let you talk to Rick as he made his way to his bike, waiting for you on it. He chuckled as he watched you climb on, hesitantly wrapping your arms around his waist. "I don' bite, y'know." he teased, moving them further so your grip was tighter.

----

"I'm sorry for dragging you out with me." you sighed, walking around the building, looking for any supplies that you could bring back. Daryl paused, holding the jar in his hand as he turned to face you. "'m fine." he answered, putting the rest of the jars in the backpack as you sighed, not believing him. "You were out looking for Soph, it's selfish for me to bring you on runs with me all the time just because I rely on you." you huffed, sitting on the bar stool as you waited for him.

Truthfully, he would never let you know that he enjoyed the fact you always asked him to come with you. Knowing that he brought you security and a feeling of safety was all that he needed. Besides, you were friends, you'd do the same. Although it wasn't in the same way, he relied on you too in his own ways. You kept him sane, and calm when everything or everyone got too much for him sometimes. You (and Carol) were helping him realise that there was still good, he was safe to open up about his emotions if needed - it was okay to show them.

So in some ways, he relied on you just as much - he just hoped it was based off the same feeling.

Fallin' again

It had been a few months since the farm now, and the group of you have settled into the cleaned out prison. No one could ignore the world (the walkers were a constant reminder), but despite the building, there was a sense of normality in there. Even though it was nothing major, it felt like home, like the group had become a family. But perhaps, that had been due to certain people.

Daryl was sat at the table, eating the food that Carol had cooked with her while he watched the rest of the group interact. Specifically you. Carol smiled to herself knowingly as she watched him, his face gentle compared to normal. You were sat with Carl and Judith was in his arms, giggling as the pair of you made faces at her, taking it in turns to make her laugh.

He felt his cheeks heat up as you looked up, meeting his gaze as he was too late to look away. Instead of making the usual comment you'd make, digging at him, you moved to the side slightly, letting him have a better view of Judith before whispering to Carl. "Little Asskicker says hi!" you grinned, moving her arm in a waving motion as Carl held her upright. He shook his head, trying to hide his smile.

He was falling hard whether he liked it or not.

I need a pick-me-up

"Carol?" you called, looking in each cell you walked passed, looking for her. "In here!" she called, peering her head out of the cell that was one over. She opened her arms, letting you give her Judith, happily putting her into the box that was being used as a makeshift crib. The handwriting and doodles on the side made you chuckle, knowing Daryl had been the one to make it. "Do you know where Daryl is?" you asked, leaning against the frame.

"Is he not on the perch?" she asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he normally sat on his mattress if he wasn't on duty. You shook your head as she looked at the table that was pinned to the wall. It was Glenn's turn to be on watch so he shouldn't have been in the watch tower either. "I'll ask Glenn, no worries." you sighed as she nodded, giving you a quick side hug.

Quickly, you moved down the stairs, looking around as you found people sitting in their little groups. "Maggie! Do you know-" you spoke as Glenn approached and cut you off, knowing what you were going to ask. "He's out on watch, and insisted on switching with me." he shrugged, a slight concern evident on his face. You thanked them before heading out, pulling the sleeves of your sweater down to warm your hands as you cursed the weather.

"Dar?" you frowned as you finished climbing up the ladder, seeing him sitting against the wall on the outside, knees folded up. He didn't say anything, looking up at you before staring back off into space. You sat down next to him, not prodding him to tell you what was going on in his head. The silence didn't bother you too much, letting you process everything that had happened. Maggie and Glenn being kidnapped, finding out Merle was still alive, meeting Michonne, Andrea being with the guy that was on your asses for the prison.

A choked sob came from Daryl, shaking his figure slightly. "I'm here." you whispered, moving your arm as he slowly moved, his knees coming down. You turned to face him, carefully wiping his tears away as he tried to calm down, internally cursing himself for being weak. He knew it was okay, that he was safe with you but there was always something just telling him it was wrong, that he was weak for it.

"I...I found Merle." he confessed, his voice cracking as you felt the colour drain from you. When he mentioned Merle the other times, whether it be stories or when Merle was with the group at the start, there was still a certain hint of some sort of joy in his voice or something, having a family member and his brother, his blood with him. But this time, it was pure pain, something clearly happened. And with the current state of everything, it wasn't exactly difficult to figure out what he was referring to.

"He was one of them. I...he lunged at me and I had to...to stab him." he got out, hands in fists as you ran your thumb up and down his hand. "Daryl.." you gasped, tears welling up yourself as you looked at him. He wasn't the nicest admittedly, but he was Daryl's family and he was important. If he was important to him, then you had a tolerance for him. Guilt swarmed as you wished you had gone with him, despite his protests anyway. "He sacrificed himself for Michonne, for us, for you. He knew." you tried to comfort him, letting him pull you in as he wrapped his arms around you.

You stayed like that for a while, not daring to move and giving him however long he needed, trying to comfort him with sweet nothings as well as yourself.

I've been callin' you friend, I might need to give it up

"When are you going to tell them?" Carol smiled, standing next to him with her arms crossed as he watched you. You were playing with Carl and some of the other kids you had brought in, running around with them in a game of tag. "Tell 'em what? We're friends." he grumbled, glaring at her as she raised an eyebrow, smirking at him. "You can't hide from me anymore, you know. I can see it in your eyes." she simply responded, heading back into the prison.

He stood there, deep in thought as her words rang through his head. They were just friends, right? Sure, he'd shared his tent with you on numerous occasions, let you come on his bike with him instead of going in the car with the others, be open with you and would be the first person to come to you if you got hurt or needed anything. And the fuzzy feeling he got when your hands brushed or intertwined and the heat that rushed to his cheeks when he'd see you looking at him or find him something he liked on runs didn't mean anything.

Maybe Carol was right, maybe he did need to stop lying to himself, but until he was sure you felt the same, he swore to himself to never say a word.

Part two | Part three

#daryl #daryl x reader #daryl x you #daryl x y/n #daryl x female reader #daryl x male reader #daryl imagines #daryl imagine #daryl oneshots #daryl oneshot #daryl fanfiction #daryl fluff #daryl fanfic #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x male reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon imagines #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl dixon oneshots #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fic #daryl dixon fluff #twd daryl #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixion x reader #twd fanfiction

[athynathens]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙠𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨.

“bet on my amno that Daryl will kiss her.”

PAIRING. Daryl Dixon x You/Reader.

ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE. This oneshot covers the Walking Dead AU. It will take place during the Prison Era before everything went to shit because of the Governor.

SYNOPSIS. You are considered reliable when it comes to important things such as killing walkers outside, joining a raid party, and others. So why exactly is Daryl suddenly forbidding you to join a mission to act as a bodyguard for Rick?

AUTHOR’S NOTES. Yalls i know walking dead is like years ago, but I am back at my Daryl Dixon era so liek why not make a fanfic to satisfy my heart ukuk? There are mentions of kissing, but not those steamy scenes you guys will expect.

Daryl is many things — he’s rough, skilled, reliable, considerate and many other things. That’s why you would never understand why he would suddenly suggest for you to not go to the place where the Governor and Rick will speak. He was never like this before, well maybe the first time you met the group. The first time you’ve met them was during Winter. You were camping alone in a house when you saw them barging into the house you were camping in.

Let’s just say there was a lot of integration.

But the point is, you never thought Daryl would be this paranoid again for him to not allow you to join the talk between Rick and the Governor. Is he cautious of you again? Just like before? You understand why he would be paranoid before, but why did it happen again now?

“You’re still thinking about it, aren’t you?” Maggie suddenly appeared on the side, holding her rifle down as she slowly walked towards you.

You looked at her squinting eyes due to the blazing rays of the sun. All you could do is nod at her question. “I just don’t know why he would do something like this….are you guys wary of me again?”

Maggie didn’t want to assume it, but she can’t also believe that you would be this blind. The farmer has seen the way Daryl would follow her like an animal with his gaze. Heck, everyone in the Prison — even Carl, noticed the way Daryl would just stare at you.

Maggie decided to give the poor oblivious girl a hint. “We aren’t wary of you. Rather, your presence alone has made someone extra attentive.”

“You’re saying Daryl hates me, that's why he’s like this?” You concluded, pupils tearing up at the thought.

OPPOSITE OF THAT! Maggie wanted to shout that, but she stopped herself from revealing Daryl’s secret crush.

“Oh good heavens no! He doesn’t! Try to think! C’mon! You can do it!” Maggie was practically begging to use all your smartass braincells to see right through her.

“Maggie, what are you even talking about?” You began to ask her, getting a bit frustrated that she’s giving you some riddles instead of getting an answer.

“Oh for fuck’s sake! Daryl l—Maggie!! Please help me with this!” She was interrupted by Carol holding a heavy box.

Maggie was never this annoyed at Carol before. But because she’s older than her, she had to obey which leaves you confused. The farmer jogged towards Carol while holding her rifle properly. “Carol, why did you have to call me? I was about to—tell her that Daryl’s puppy love with her?” Carol smiled, finishing Maggie’s sentence.

Maggie’s annoyed expression diminished a bit with her playful tone. “So why did you stop me then?” She had to ask with a hint of irritation.

Carol playfully grinned. “C’mon now. It’s been a while since something exciting like this happened!! To think it’s even about Daryl’s love life! It’s like those shows I used to watch whenever Ed’s not around!”

“Except this show is happening in real life,” Maggie smirked in astonishment.

Carol smiled. “Now you’re at my level! Now just stay quiet, and just let him…” The latter turned her head to the tower to see Daryl watching you like a hawk. “…do all the talking.”

Maggie chuckled, turning to the direction of where Daryl is currently staying. “You know. From this perspective, he looks like a creep,” She pointed out.

“If there was no zombie apocalypse, Daryl might be mistaken as a pedophile because [name] looks really young to be in her late thirties,” Carol added as she started walking back inside with Maggie.

“I know right?” Maggie smiled, walking with Carol as she turned her head to still see the archer following you with his eyes.

As the two women are laughing at their jokes, Daryl can hear every word they are saying. He couldn’t get annoyed at their jokes because their words spoke facts. The hunter tilted his head a bit, following your movements as you stab the walkers through the fences.

Months ago, Daryl knew something was wrong with him. Deep down his rough personality, he knew that you have some kind of effect on him. The moment he saw you for the first time was something he will never forget. Your entire body glowed under the moonlight passing through the window of the house. He remembered how he lowered down his bow as he noticed a shimmering flame from the camp fire through your eyes.

Therefore ever since you came to the group, his eyes would always find you. Sometimes, he didn’t even notice that he was staring at you — it’s almost him staring at you is a habit for him to do so.

At first, he didn’t know what this feeling was till his buddy, Rick, pointed it out. He remembered how Rick kept giving scenarios he witnessed to prove that Daryl likes you. Rick’s most favorite memory was when Daryl was cleaning his dagger as he walked while staring at you intensely. He looked at you with such eyes that he bumped into the wall, dropping his dagger to the ground.

Everyone in the prison witnessed this so it was hard to hold in their laughter. They almost even let it out when you saw the entire bumping scene.

“Daryl,” Someone from behind him called him. The hunter turned his face around to see Glenn.

The archer can only lift his head in a fast motion as he said, “Sup’ China man.”

Glenn rolled his eyes, feeling offended. “I’m Korean.”

Daryl chuckled, looking down on the ground for a moment. “Mhm. I know. Just bringin’ the good ol’ days, ya know?”

“Yeahhhh,,,being called China man is not exactly in my good old days book,” Glenn pointed out, walking towards him as he leaned his elbows onto the railing — copying Daryl.

“I’m guessing the reason why you are here is because of her, right?” Glenn asked, looking around the prison field as he felt Daryl stop moving.

“Ya knew?” He asked.

“Did I—?!?! Glenn scoffed playfully, “OF COURSE I KNEW!”

Daryl was taken back by his sudden outburst, genuinely not expecting the fact he got angry like this.

“You know, the fact that you’re giving me that confused look is pissing me off even more,” Glenn angrily confessed.

“…what?” He asked in bafflement.

“Oh for fuck’s sake—! You better tell her how you feel! Oh don’t get me started on the I’m afraid she’ll not accept me or the She deserves better than me lines! What gives you the right to assume what she wants, huh?!? That’s why you better man up, and fucking tell her how you feel! We’re already in an apocalypse as it is! So might as well live the best time of your life! That’s why tell her how you feel right now,” Glenn panted heavily, saying all the points he’s been wanting to say this entire time.

Daryl only stared at him with a numb look. The hunter already knew that — it’s just that what scares him right now is he might not be able to give you what you want. Even if you like him back and start a relationship, how can he ensure that he is doing well as a lover? All his life is about abuse from his father; thus, he did not grow with and out of love.

With his brother, Merle, it’s a different type of love — a brotherly bonding is maybe what you call it. But Merle has never given him the love you see in siblings. The douche left him to join the military to get away from their father for fuck’s sake.

In short, he never knew what it’s like to love someone. Therefore, he is scared that he will do something wrong when he’s in a relationship with you.

So before Daryl could reply to Glenn’s opinion, a sudden voice interrupted him. “Hate to break it to yall, but Rick needs us in the cell for some kind of meeting,” Maggie said, arching her brow at the tension between the two.

“Darly. Please don’t mind, Glenn. He’s just sexually frustrated at the moment since you took the only make out spot we’ve got where no one can interrupt us,” Maggie playfully teased, causing Glenn to blush in panic as he began to stutter for a bunch of reasons.

Daryl can only chuckle lightly, leaving the couple alone with their moment. He exited the tower quickly, making his way to the cell to see everyone in their place. Of course, the hunter spotted you first — you were sitting down on the stairs that connects to the second floor of the prison cell.

Minutes later, Glenn and Maggie followed; the two stayed standing with their arms linked together. This sight alone caused Daryl to feel a bit of envy since he also wanted to try doing that with you.

“As you all know, Andrea has called for some kind of meeting, a peace treaty to ensure there will be no fighting. All this to keep our people safe,” Rick reminded the group, crossing his arms as he walked around to build that momentum.

“Daryl, Hershel, [Name], I need you three to come with me to the place where Andrea told us to meet.” Those words alone caused Daryl to ignite in fury.

The hunter walked towards Rick with his frowning eyebrows, getting annoyed by the minute. “Didn’ I said that the girl stays here?” Daryl screamed in anger, walking away from the wall he was leaning at.

“Daryl, you need to cal—don’ tell me to calm down! You fucking promised!” Rick’s collar was grabbed by an angry Daryl.

Now, it was your turn to blaze in anger so you stomped your way to Daryl. You didn’t hesitate to push him, causing him to let go of Rick in shock. “What the damn fuck is your problem, huh? Why are you suddenly so wary of me? The fuck did I ever do to you?”

The hunter realized what he did so he composed himself first before speaking. “If I said yer stayin’, then ya better keep yer ass here,” Daryl spat out harshly, not holding back his emotions right now.

Your eyebrow twitched in anger. Your head tilted to the side as your jaw clenched in rage. “The fuck you said?”

Meanwhile, their audience just watched in amusement, waiting for the moment where one of them will just confess out of the blue. Turns out, the group planned this to happen with the help of Carol’s creative plan. The group knew that they wanted some entertainment before the storm. So they decided to trigger something in the tension between Daryl and you.

“Bet on my canned foods that [name] confesses first,” Carol whispers to Rick, causing him to smile.

“Bet on my amno that Daryl will kiss her,” Rick cockily grins.

“You’re on!” Carol laughed.

“I’m just here for the drama,” Hershel just adds with a chuckle.

“I still can’t believe that you guys find this amusing,” Carl says with a hint of confusion.

“Why can’t ya just listen to a word I just said, girl!” Daryl screamed, getting frustrated at why you can’t just listen to him for once.

“What about you! You don’t even answer my fucking questions! Why are you like this? Can you just tell me where I went wrong so we can fix this?” You spoke back, hoping to hear answers.

“For fuck’s sakes, woman! Why are you so complicated for me?” Daryl snapped, silencing everyone with his tone.

Your pupils widen as they quiver, feeling them getting wet by the second. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Daryl.” You sniffled, fighting yourself to hold back your tears.

“You’re the one that’s complicated! I can’t fucking believe I like you!” You suddenly screamed, not realizing you already confessed. Meanwhile, Carol nudges Rick with her shoulders, signaling him to do his side on the bet they made together.

Daryl couldn’g believe his ears. There’s no way you said that. T-There’s absolutely no way… “W-Whatchu just said?”

After what just happened, your brain finally processed what you did. You mentally cursed at your mouth for slipping the one secret you didn't want him to know. The flames on your cheeks started to increase as the minutes passed by.

Suddenly, Daryl called you. Your body hair just jolted up when you heard how fucking nice yoor name sounds out of his mouth. And fuck, he’s staring at you intensely — just like those other moments you accidentally caught him staring at you. That intense gaze of his is making your legs wobble a bit as you begin to shake for some reason.

It’s like a predator eyeing its prey.

“U-Uhhhh,,,I still stand what I said! I’m going Daryl! And you ain’t stopping m—” You stopped talking when he grabbed your face harshly and crashed his lips into yours.

A series of gasps mimicked in the background as you and Daryl were stuck in their own world, not caring about anything else except each other's warmth through their lips. You were definitely shocked, hence why you stood there like an idiot. However, his lips moved with so much passion so it snapped you back to reality.

The kiss was messy, but the fact that it was coming from your crush makes your legs begin to wobble at the pleasurable sensation. His hands held your face tighter and closer to his face, feeling the warmth of his body even more. Due to the height difference, him pulling you closer to his face is causing you to tip to your toes.

Daryl would continue to go on with this, but his lungs scream of oxygen so he sadly needs to pull back. With a heavy pant, he connected his forehead to yours as he stared down at you. He waited for a moment to catch his breath again then spoke, “Yer staying here, girl. You ain’t comin’ with us. I can’t afford to lose you.”

With his hands still on your head, you brought your hand up to place your hand on top of his. You leaned towards that hand as you rubbed his rough skin in circles, causing his stomach to feel things.

“I ain’t stayin’ here cuz I can’t also afford to lose ya, lover boy.”

“YES! WE GOT OUR MAKE OUT SPOT BACK!”

“Glenn. I swear to bacons. Shut your mouth.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝙣𝙤 𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙩.

#the walking dead #daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl x reader #the walking dead daryl #daryl oneshot #zombies #puppylove #first kiss #intense confession #prisonera

[cosmic-glow]

So I have a request

Can u write when Daryl and reader are together and he is insecure about his scars on his back and sceard of reader gonna hate him Couse of that but somehow reader found out about that. But she was so gentle with him and told him that's she was going to love him no matter what and she kissed every part of his scars ?

Notes: I've already read some oneshots with this proposal, so I tried to do something a little different and I hope you like it, sorry for the delay, good reading!

Warnings: Daryl x gn!reader, normal twd violence. Beth obeys her sister and stays on the bus to escape prison, resulting in only Daryl and Y/n wandering through the woods. Unfortunately I don't know the @ of the artist who made the fanart :(

   

 

 The air that entered your lungs seemed to burn with the anxiety that was growing in your chest, the strong smell of gunpowder gave you a headache that did not allow you to think straight, everything around you seemed to be happening more slowly, the sound loud of the explosions and shots left you bewildered, not knowing for sure what to do or where to go, your only instinct now was to survive, that was what kept you on your feet. Crossing the prison yard you didn't hesitate to pull the trigger to get the governor's allies out of your way. Fear had taken hold of you, but the situation didn't allow you to stop, you had to get out of that place. The last thing you managed to do was pick up the bag of weapons left behind by someone before leaving his old shelter, his group's refuge, now ablaze and overrun by walkers.

 You knew that a part of the group had fled with the bus, but never found it. Your people had split up and now you were alone, just as you were when you found the group in the quarry.

 During those days that you roamed in the forest, you only cared about food, water and shelter. When hunting, you remembered all the things that Daryl taught you about it, following the man's advices to the letter, you felt a tightness in your heart when you managed to hunt some animal and remembered maybe you would never see the man again to "piss him off" bragging about having done it all right and alone. Something that always ended with the two of you laughing.

 You and Daryl tried to create a certain refuge in those moments you had together. Of course it wasn't always like this, at first Dixon was very harsh, giving no ground to anyone who tried to approach him, including you. Nowadays you believe that this was a way to protect himself since the man was never very good at - and was not even allowed to - deal with his feelings. But your insistence on checking if the archer was all right whenever he returned from a run, the way you looked at him without any judgment, and even trusted him to ask for help with something, gradually made these barriers fall.

 And on the farm, have completely fallen down.

 The discussion you had with Andrea when even under warning not to shoot she pulled that damn trigger made it more than clear how much you cared about the archer. And from that day on you both felt more comfortable with whatever that feeling was and became even closer.

 After the property crash, you realized your feelings for him by how scared you were to think that you had lost him in that place. You remember the feeling of relief spreading through your whole body when you found him again in the traffic jam, and by the way he froze when his eyes met yours, you could tell he felt the same way. Without hesitation, you ran to the brunette and threw your arms around his neck to pull him closer, which he returned by wrapping his body in your arms. In that embrace neither of you was ashamed to say how afraid felt at the thought of losing the other.

 And since that day, after all the fear you both felt, you surrendered to that feeling, and looking up at the night sky, leaning on Daryl's shoulder in that makeshift campsite by the group, you declared your love in a sleepy whisper, which was reciprocated by him before you fall asleep. In prison you both could finally rest a little and enjoy each other's presence in a safe place. And so, the way the whole group lost this refuge, the way the place was completely taken over and destroyed, still made you wake up at night breathless and in a cold sweat. Your entire group had split up, and after a few weeks of not finding any trace of a clue to anyone's whereabouts, you no longer knew if you would ever really find them again.

 And here you were, walking alone in the middle of the forest. Without a clear direction you had become a nomad. When you woke up you unpacked your makeshift camp and went in search of supplies, especially food, and before nightfall you were already looking for a shelter to spend the night and rest before the next day began, where you would do the same things as the day before, going further and further ahead.

 But this time the lilac tones were already taking over the orange sky and you still hadn't found a shelter or any decent place to make a camp. It was then that among the trees you caught sight, further ahead, of a silhouette that made you pick up your pace. It was a hut, you had found a hut. Without delay, you approached the house when you noticed that it must have been abandoned. The walls were old and the property seemed to have been forgotten even before the fall. Prowling around the place you made sure it was empty by looking through the windows, and there was nothing but dust and old broken furniture. As you approached the front door something in you put you on alert, so you chose to go around the house. Feeling more secure at the back door you prepared yourself - pulling your gun - and mentally counted to three before turning the knob and opening the door.

 Stepping back you raised the gun ready to aim at any threat that might be on the other side. The opening revealed to you someone on the other side also already prepared to receive you with a gun pointed at you. And then the crossbow in the man's arms ducked as it recognized you.

-Y/n?- Dixon asked immobile.

 Are him, you had found the archer, you had found Daryl! He was right there in front of you, unharmed and well, he's still alive.

-Daryl?- you put the gun down still not able to believe it.

 This time he was the one who ran to you and hugged you tight, not wanting to let go for fear of being separated from you again. You were fine, you were alive, and now you were with him.

-I thought I lost ya- he confessed with a shaky voice.

-Me too…- you replied hugging him tighter.

(...)

 Days passed, neither of you had the courage to leave the other alone, afraid that if you did the other would disappear. The first night, in order to completely relax and sleep, Daryl hugged you and brought your body as close to him as he could, which also made you feel safe to close your eyes and sleep, feeling him around you. The following nights were not much different. You both needed to get over the longing you felt for each other, as well as the fear and worry that clouded your thoughts during these days alone, but you both agreed that you needed to keep looking for any sign of the group.

 The idea of moving away from the only place you could consider a real shelter didn't appeal to you much, but if it would give you some chance of meeting up with the group again, so be it.

 The two of you wandered through the forest, and strangely enough this scenario was very comforting to you, following Daryl into the forest while their eyes searched intently for any sign that indicated the whereabouts of someone, was something you had become accustomed to doing, and being back in this situation calmed you down. Maybe that's what made you careless.

 Turning quickly on your heels you drew your knife to strike the source of the hoarse noise beside you. You pierced the skull of the walker who was already close enough to bite you in the shoulder if had lingered a second longer. You didn't notice Dixon who had turned around, but when he saw that you had taken care of that he backed away a bit, not realizing that the pile of leaves behind him was hiding a dead man who had been awakened by the moment's movement. With unusual strength, the walker grabbed Daryl's foot, which made him unbalance and fall backwards, feeling something pierce his torso.

-Daryl!- you screamed when you heard the fall.

 Pulling the knife from the dead man's skull you turned your attention to the other who was on the ground trying to reach the archer's leg with his teeth. Finishing his movements, you now moved quickly to the brunette, whose face was contorted by the pain in his abdomen. Noticing the blood that surged from his torso you despaired as you saw the sharp pointed object that had pierced the side of his abdomen, below his ribs, it was a broken and pointed twig, now soiled by the dark scarlet hue.

 With his arm around your shoulder you carried the man back to the cabin. Laying him on the clean sheet on the mattress you took the first aid kit you had in your bag. With trembling hands you separated what you were going to use and were about to remove the man's shirt when you felt his hands stop you.

-I do it- he couldn't help but spit out some blood.

 Was he crazy? He could barely speak and wanted to do this dressing all by himself? No chance.

-Daryl, stop it, is not the time- you tried to tug at his shirt one more time but his arm remained rigid- Daryl…

 With your tone already impatient, the two of you stare at each other for a moment before he gives up and lets go of your arm. Finally letting you take off his shirt to tend to his wound, you soon noticed some small scars on his chest and abdomen, but you were really surprised when you saw the ones he had on his back, these, however, were bigger. It was visible that the marks had been made intentionally, which made your heart squeeze even more as you thought about the dark past he had to spend trapped in that house with his father. Continuing the procedure you removed the branch and stopped the bleeding, cleaning the site you prepared to sew it up and finished by attaching gauze to the region. 

-I'm done…- you said putting things away.

 Still with difficulty he again covered his body with the old shirt, silently, without the courage to look at you. 

(...)

 Night fell quickly and soon the whole room was dark, you quickly arranged the place to sleep since Dixon's mobility was now reduced. Sitting on the edge of the mattress you pulled up a piece of the blanket to protect you from the cold. Daryl was silent for the rest of the day, with a faraway look that refused to meet his own.

-Is the wound better?

-Hmm- he muttered and you assumed it was a yes.

 And then silence fell over the room again, this time causing greater discomfort than before. You were sitting on the makeshift bed, trying to find the words to reassure the man next to you - who was lying with his back to you - about what you had seen today. But Daryl was quicker.

-'m sorry you had to see this...

-Daryl…- you turned around and almost put your hand on his shoulder, but held back not sure if you should- there's nothing to apologize for…I'm sorry you had to go through that, you didn't deserve it-

 The words escaped you, not knowing if it was what he wanted to hear, what should you say to the man anyway? You knew there were no words you could say that were enough, you finally saw how bad his relationship with his father was and you weren't even sure how to comfort him, you felt so worthless, your heart ached to imagine that this kind man that you love so much endured so much hate trapped in that house.

-... Ya deserve someona better - he finally revealed what was troubling his thoughts. 

-Someone better? Daryl, you're better than anything I ever imagined! I felt like a part of me died when I lost you, I've never- ... I've never loved anyone like that.

 You couldn't hold on any longer to what you felt these days alone in the forest, you couldn't hide it from the man anymore when he was feeling this way. The person you love, admire and care about the most, feeling insecure because of something that wasn't his fault, that wasn't fair.

 Finally sitting up in bed and turning to you he could see the tears that threatened to fall from your eyes. You saw his face fall, ready to apologize, but you interrupted him by kissing one side of his face and holding the other, "I fell in love with everything about you" you whispered. Taking advantage that he had taken off his shirt to sleep you distributed kisses over each of his scars, "every part" you said in the middle of it. Turning your gaze back to him, you held the man's face gently.

-Do you understand this?

 And now Daryl also had tears in his eyes when you sealed your lips, showing all the love you felt for him with your kiss. He had never felt so loved, so welcomed, it was something only you could make him feel, and he was so grateful for that, for the way you accepted and cared for him, how you assured him of your love for him, for simply having you by his side.

 He knew he couldn't bear to be without you again and would do whatever it took to make sure it never happened again.

   

Sorry for any typos;

Masterlist;

Drabbles Game;

Buy me a coffee?

#daryl dixon #daryl twd #daryl x reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x gn!reader #daryl dixon x gn!reader #daryl x you #daryl dixon x you #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl oneshot #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl fanfic #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl soft #daryl angst #twd oneshot #explore

[suniloli]

DISTRACTED

2 Nov 2023 *Edited (minor)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: Explicit, implied sexual content, sexual language, swearing

Setting: Alexandria

Summary: Upon realising how potent your little infatuation is with a certain archer, you decide to act on it. 

Author Note: My first ever fan fiction. I had this idea to express how I'd think sexual tension with Daryl could potentially manifest.....it is definitely harder than it seems to try and capture already existing characters and write them successfully. I’m a bit unsure about the dialogue, and the ending feels a bit rushed, but I hope it works.  - Sól

Never did you believe that these ‘chemicals' you always heard about were capable of affecting a person in such a way. You always used to think that being infatuated to this degree was a farce, a fun exaggeration of the truth. But my god were you wrong. And perhaps you've been wrong for a while.

That's what you realised sitting amongst your family in your shared Alexandrian home. You had been here for a couple of months now, and everyone was comfortable enough to let their guards down and enjoy a domesticated, casual occasion. Everyone was happy. You could hear Abraham's hearty laugh bouncing off of the walls. You could make out Glenn cracking some joke to the right of you. Rick was relaxed for once, smiling at the scene before him. Rosita and Tara were conversing to your left, but you'd checked out of the gossip session after getting caught up in the sight across the room.

You hadn't even meant to get distracted.

You swear.

You also swore you could hear Rosita asking you something, but alas, those chemicals in your brain fogged all of your other senses.

With his arms crossed, you watched as his hand smoothed down from the top of his shoulder, so tantalisingly slowly, down to his elbow and back up again at an ever agonising pace. You stared, enraptured, as his strong, muscular palm very lightly gripped his bulging bicep absentmindedly, while he nodded in response to a very animated Aaron. 

That was something you liked about Daryl. No, it was something that you realised made you embarrassingly aroused; the squareness of his hands and definition in his arms had you reeling. There was something in particular about passing by Daryl, whether he was tinkering with his bike, or back at the prison working the gates, or simply walking about the streets in Alexandria, that really got you going — his forearms shifting when twisting a screwdriver, his triceps flexing when aiming his crossbow, and the sheen of sweat glistening from his shoulders in the hot heat…

Reluctantly dragging your eyes from his arms and across his broad chest, your eyes met his two steely blues which were now looking directly at you.

Resisting the urge to look away, it was as if time stopped. You felt confined to the lounge by his stare, and it was exhilarating. The tiny smirk which lifted the corner of Daryl's mouth had flipped a flirtatious switch in you, and your eyes began to traverse the length of his body as if your life depended on it.

Slowly crossing your legs and slipping your hand down your leg and across your thigh, Daryl continued his equally invasive perusal of your body as your gaze travelled lower and lower down his. The tension became palpable. 

A myriad of dirty thoughts came to light, as you not-so inconspicuously trailed the waistband of his black jeans. Now that you mentioned it, the belt holding them up looked a little tight, as if whatever tent that was underneath was just about to protrude and —

“What are you so hot and bothered by Y/N?” Tara cheekily asked, trying catch a glimpse of whatever was making you blush. 

“I think we already know the answer to that” Rosita said. Still in a bit of a daze, you uncrossed your legs and covered your cheeks to try and subtly dissipate the redness there. 

“I’m not. Was just thinking about stuff…” You murmured. Rosita put a hand on your leg and leaned in to whisper something. 

“I bet. But it definitely wouldn’t have anything to do with the surly, tomato-faced man over there, would it?” You grasped whatever courage you had left and snuck a peek at Daryl, who was now hiding behind a glass of something, having moved to another side of the house. You noticed the glass he was holding wasn’t very effective at hiding his slight fluster. 

You sighed. “No, it doesn’t.” You deadpanned. “In your dreams ‘Sita. It’s not like that.”

“Oh, but it is” Tara interjected. “Look, we’ve known each other for a while. I’d like to say we’re good enough friends for us to know that—” 

“You have a fat crush on Daryl. And everyone knows he has a fat crush on you.” Rosita finished.

You were usually very honest and down to earth, but now, that couldn’t be further from reality. You decided you could play this two ways. You could keep denying your sexual interest in the man. Or, you could admit to your imagined undressing of him and succumb to their teasing. You decided with the former.  

“I’m not even going to entertain that. Just because we’re good mates doesn’t mean anything else. Mates. Friends.” You explained. You half-knew they could see through your facade, but you trudged forward anyway, digging yourself into a hole of your own making. Pointing at Rosita, you added “Plus, as you said, the dude’s surly as fuck. He’s more concerned with trying to squint like Zoolander than anything else…”

“Y/N likes Daryl!” Tara sang merrily at an annoyingly high pitch. Her and Rosita laughed, continuing to tease you for a bit longer. They got back to talking again when they realised you wouldn’t budge, so you utilised the opportunity to find Daryl again. 

There he was, seated in an armchair with his signature, piercing eyes surveying the room. It was like he practiced that squint in the mirror. It was almost as practiced as male models on a runway. Daryl could be a model you thought. He had that look about him. He had a gorgeously well built, muscular frame. Strong enough to pick you up and throw you, probably. His signature scowl was more like an intense gaze, replicating exactly what you saw of those men in magazines. Except, it was Daryl. He was hotter than all of those men combined. He was the epitome of man. Daryl Dixon was gorgeous. Your smile widened substantially just thinking about it. The throb down below was getting electrifyingly worse. It was hard not to imagine his calloused hands gripping onto both of your spread thighs, descending onto you with those whirling blues and smug curling up of his mouth. He was so incredibly hot, and there was nothing you could do about it.  

You guess you did have a ‘fat’ crush on Daryl. 

Realistically, what was the worst that could happen if you made a move? It wasn’t usually your style to be the first to initiate that sort of thing. But you two had such a deep friendship that a little admission of something more couldn’t ruin it, right? You could feel your heart beating in your chest. Even if he didn’t reciprocate, surely it wouldn’t diminish the bond the two of you shared ever since you met in Atlanta. Worst case scenario, you’d have to distance yourself for a while. That’s not so bad. 

Deciding to be brave, you abruptly got up and grabbed a drink from the table. ‘A bit of liquid courage’ you hoped. Receiving knowing looks from Rosita and Tara, you rolled your eyes at them, only to notice Daryl was gone. Drinking a glass (or two), you approached Carol. You were about to ask her of his whereabouts when she beat you to it. 

“Down the hall, in the kitchen I think” she stated as you approached, with a seductive wink to go with it. She was a very perceptive woman. 

Shooting her a tiny grin, you slowly made your way down the hall. Whether placebo or not, you could feel a slight buzz from the alcohol already. After all, you didn’t drink these days. 

The music was a little bit quieter down here. Psyching yourself up, you made it to the kitchen’s entry, and there you saw him. He detected your presence before you even made it to the door, ever the skilled hunter. 

“Hey…” Daryl said. You leaned against the archway, glass in hand, and smiled. Before you could reply, he grabbed something from the counter and flicked it at your forehead from across the room. It bounced straight off and onto the ground. 

Maintaining eye contact with him, you sipped the rest of your beverage, and placed the glass on the small kitchen island. Picking up what you realised was a blueberry from the ground, you threw it at him with more force than was necessary. He dodged it just in time. 

“That’s not very nice, Daryl” you said lowly, your smile widening. His eyes travelled down your body quickly and back up to your eyes as you got up from your crouched position. “What are you doing here anyway?” You asked, moving into the kitchen to stand next to him and lean on the counter. 

“I was tryna grab more beer”.

You hummed. That switch was flipped again. In the split second you had to come up with a response, you noticed he was gazing upon you with an equal amount of fervour. 

“Are you saying I'm distracting you?” you asked in a sultry tone. Inhaling slowly, you could smell the leather of his vest, and something woody. God did you love it. 

Daryl replied with a soft, low grunt. You slowly moved your hand and rested it on his cheek. Pushing away the thought that he could feel the perspiration emanating from it, you tapped your thumb a few times on the mole above his lip.

“You know, for as long as we’ve known each other, I don’t think I’ve ever told you how cute your mole is”. 

“Cute?” Daryl questioned breathily. “ I aint’ cute”.

He broke from your gaze and looked down at the proximity between you both. Removing your hand and placing it next to his on the counter, you lightly shook your head. 

“I think you’re wrong about that.”

Biting his lip in that little way he usually does, Daryl looked back up, seemingly gaining a bit of confidence. He pinched the bottom hem of your shirt, fiddling with a loose thread near your hip.

“Well, I think ya look cute in this shirt…couldn’t stop looking at ya before…” he trailed off. 

Getting imperceptibly closer, you could hear Daryl’s soft, shallow breaths. His eyes flicked to your lips and back up. You gently placed your other hand onto his one at your hip, and trailed your fingers along Daryl’s forearm until they reached the crook of his elbow.

“Well, if you liked what you were seeing so much, why didn’t you come over?” 

His hand was now fully splayed on your lower hip, thumb caressing the space there.

“Could say the same ‘bout ya”.

His little smirk shot arousal straight through your body. Suddenly you were aware of how hot it was in the kitchen. The space around you cracked with anticipation. The soft moonlight filtering through the kitchen window juxtaposed the heat permeating between your bodies. You could see the desire glimmering in Daryl’s eyes. 

“I’m here now…” you breathed. 

Dragging his hand up to your waist, Daryl pulled you closer. Your arm moved upwards along his toned bicep and shoulder to rest gently on the side of his neck. You could feel the intense pulse of blood through his veins, making you acutely aware of the intense throbbing making its way to your core.

“The things ya do to me woman…” Daryl husked. 

Pulling your bodies completely flush, you inched your face closer to his. Wrapping both of your arms around his neck, you whispered in his ear.

“Maybe you should do something about it…”

In an instant, his other hand came up to hold your jaw, and his lips desperately connected with yours. At first it was a bit rushed, but you blamed that on the adrenaline pumping through your bodies. He took your bottom lip into his mouth, and finally the kiss slowed. The hard, fiery melding of your mouths became more intense by the second. It was a delightful push and pull of lip and tongue. You could feel Daryl growing exponentially hard in his pants. As you carded your fingers roughly through his hair, Daryl’s hands smoothed down your back. His hands reached lower and lower, until he had a handful of your backside and —

“Daryl! Did you grab the — oh.” Rick exclaimed.

Too caught up in the moment, the both of you abruptly pulled apart with a loud *pop* sound. Gawking at the impassioned scene before him, Rick’s stunned expression turned knowing. “Uh… I’ll leave you both to it” he said with a half-concealed smile.

As Rick exited, you both turned to look at each other again, still in the same position as before. You were both heaving in breaths of air. A few seconds passed before he broke the silence. 

“Damn girl…”

“That was…woah…” you said a little dreamily. Moving into your lips once again, Daryl gave your butt a hard squeeze. 

“Fuckin’ Rick had to ruin it…” he muttered into your mouth with a bit of feigned disdain. Without breaking the kiss, you bit down on his lip, and dragged your hands down to his chest and fiddled with the collar of his sleeveless shirt. 

“Doesn’t mean we can’t continue this elsewhere…"

Breaking the kiss, he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, and gave you the cheekiest smile you’d ever seen. 

“Don’ have ta’ tell me twice girl”

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x y/n #the walking dead daryl #twd fanfics #the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #daryl dixon x fem!reader #twd daryl dixon #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl x reader #daryl x you #daryl oneshot #daryl imagines #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon imagine #daryl fanfiction #twd daryl #twd imagine

[starshipsofstarlord]

“I don’ have the patience ter remove yer clothes righ’ now.”

pairing. daryl dixon x fem!reader

summary. daryl returns from a hunt, but he doesn’t care for what he caught; he’d rather catch you beneath him

warnings. smut, unprotected sex, creampie, kitchen sex, horny!daryl

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

divider credits. @cafekitsune

Although Daryl had been out hunting god knows what creatures that lurked outside the walls, he still looked at you as though you were his prey. His muddy boots left footprints in their walk as he stalked with an animalistic purpose towards you, a hungry glare encapsulating his eyes.

“Need ya righ’ now sweetness.” It wasn’t necessary for him to speak twice, an excited warmth circulated within your body, and from the famished desperation which he displayed as he posed a strong grip around your waist and littered rushed and open mouth kisses across the curve of your shoulder, it was obvious that no foreplay would be involved in your sensual activity.

Your hands drifted to the bottom seam of your ratty shirt that laid a small distance below your abdomen, however Daryl swatted them away from the fabric, blindly walking your bodies backwards until you were trapped between hun and the clear dining table.

“I don’ have the patience ter remove yer clothes righ’ now.” He muttered across your mouth, which left you enthralled. It felt almost scandalous despite being in your own home, endorphins were swimming in your bloodstream as you felt your centre become slick with the arousal that your archer had caused.

A gasp was quick to slip from your lips as Daryl pressed down on your sternum with his large palm, forcing your back to lay across the table, he licked at his lips as he cherished the sight of you in front of him, before he began sliding your faded jeans down your legs until they were balled up in a bunch at your calves.

“Need you inside of me D.” The words escaped you in the form of a whine, and that seemed to spur Daryl back into action. He fumbled in a messy fight against his belt, until the buckle was finally free, and then he proceeded to release his throbbing cock that was leaking with precum at the thought of being sheathed deep inside of you.

“Been thinkin’ ‘bout this all day.” He huskily confessed, grasping his hard length with his dominant hand, standing between your legs as he rolled his flush red tip around your clit for a few seconds which had you wantonly yearning for more, before he angled his cock at your entrance.

He wasted no more time as he slowly pushed into your pulsating walls, the echo of various curses filling the room until your bodies were close together. One of his hands supported his weight atop of you beside your head on the table, as the other pivoted your right leg loosely over his hip.

He rolled his hips, which had your hands pressing into the blades of his scarred shoulders, but he cared not for their placement as he pulled back and plunged eight back into your heat. The archer built up a rhythm as your eyes crossed paths of contact his brunette locks fell around his face like a halo.

Your breaths intermingled, causing a dew to dawn on both of your faces, the grips you had on each others skin growing rougher. “Daryl…” His name came out as a whisper from the tip of your tongue, and the reply that you got was a few grunts and groans of endearing acknowledgment.

Your brows furrowed together as you felt the pit of your stomach broaden, warning your mind of an impending orgasm. “D-dar, I-I’m c-close.” Each syllable was drawled out and the pitch of your voice became higher and Daryl kept going strong with his erotic administrations, pressing his cock into you in a way that hit the sweet hidden spot that caused your high to prevail and snap.

He felt your release surround his cock, and with a few more ravenous plunges, he emptied his cum into your contracting walls, painting you from the inside out. Daryl remained in the same position that he had abjured atop of you for a few loving moments, placing a supple kiss upon your lips before removing himself.

A breathy laugh mindlessly fluttered from your mouth which caused Daryl to squint questionably at you and your amused, post orgasm haze. “It would’ve only taken a few seconds for us to get completely naked.” To prove your point, you kicked your boots off your feet, and allowed your jeans to peel all the way off your legs. Daryl rolled his eyes, silently finding amusement in your retort.

“Shuddup woman, needed ya.” He had been craving you, and as he allowed his eyes to run up your body, he felt the desire creep up on him again. It was a cruel world, but at least he had you; the woman he had survived through it all with. He’d never let you go anywhere, however the bedroom was sounding pretty exciting now.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x you #daryl smut #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x female reader

[xwritingdixonx]

Is It Better To Speak or To Die? | Daryl Dixon |

----------

Masterlist

Summary: After being rescued from Woodbury by Rick's group, you struggle with living a "normal" life in the walls of the prison. The trauma's inflicted on you at the hands of the Govenour drag you to the deepest depths. A certain archer is the onyl one who can drag you back out.

Warnings: slow burn, language, smoking, grief, depression, talk of body scars, implied smut, implied past abuse, Governor (enough said)

Word Count: aprox. 10k

Era: Prison, Alexandria.

Song Recommendation: Cinnamon Girl - Lana Del Ray, Would That I - Hozier

----------

The survivors of Woodbury had called The Prison “home” for only a week. The war and downfall of the Governor and Woodbury were still fresh in everyone’s gut, though others were making themselves comfortable very quickly. You were not. It was such an irony to you. Taking shelter in a prison as if this world wasn’t a prison. As if the traumas of the past year of survival didn’t hold you by your throat. Your own mental prison.

The bowl you held still warmed your hands. Though you knew no appetite arose in your stomach, you still took the bowl Carol offered just to be polite. Standing alone, your back leaned against the support beam of the gazebo all the benches sat under for meals. You had been a part of Woodbury...but you certainly hadn’t been a part of the community. Not near the end at least.

Most people steered clear of you. Avoiding your tired hardened eyes and threatening gazes. Avoiding the tenseness in your persona. Completely removing themselves from the possibility of having an interaction with the emotionless shell you had become. Others were compassionate, showing you any empathy they could bear. You’d get a polite head nod and warm smile occasionally, though you never returned it.

In Woodbury, no one asked questions, they talked and gossiped amongst one another but never bothered. But at the prison, you were new. Fresh meat. So in turn, you had your fair share of stares and whispers from Rick’s group.

Carol had become your latest bother. In the mornings, just like today, people would slowly make their way to line up for their share of breakfast. Your desire was to simply come out in the crisp morning air and smoke a cigarette, attempting to forget the night of terrors you encountered when you closed your eyes. You’d be sure to isolate yourself a bit away so the smoke didn’t bother anyone’s morning. But Carol simply wouldn’t accept it.

The last few days she’d noticed the lack of breakfast passing your lips. You’d smoke a cigarette and then wait to eat a proper meal for dinner. Reminding her of another certain someone.

She couldn’t make you line up and wait like everyone else. She couldn’t make you come and sit at a table and be social. So, she’d make you your own bowl and walk it over to you, giving you a polite smile, and then walk away. She did this for the past 3 days, catching onto your pattern early on.

“How’s she doing?” Rick drawled as Carol handed him his own bowl of powdered eggs and steamed potatoes. “Can bring a horse to water but you can’t make ‘em drink.” Carol joked back, Rick nodded in response and thanked her for his bowl.

Rick had been keeping an eye on you ever since you’d arrived. Unlike most of Woodbury, who willingly came running out to be rescued, you were found by Rick. The door to the room he found you in had been locked from the outside.

Everything he found out about you from that point had been from the mouths of others. You hadn’t even used words to tell him your name, he had been told by someone else. “Morning.” Rick greeted Daryl who was already almost finished his own breakfast, “Mornin’.” He stood with Daryl, neither of the men having time to sit with all the plans to improve the prison.

Daryl followed Rick’s gaze, noticing the way Rick seemed to be lost in thought. When the gaze ended on you, Daryl scoffed. “Figured that one out yet?” He asked, shoving a spoon of egg in his mouth. “Not yet.” Daryl had tried himself to scramble for puzzle pieces of you but had no success. You didn’t talk. Not a word, not even a whisper. There was a part of him that was intrigued by you, a part of him that wanted to dissect. But there was the other part that told him to mind his business.

“Good morning.” Riley begins to pass by, greeting Rick and Daryl. If the term Southern Bell was a person, that would be Riley. Blonde hair, dark emerald eyes, sweet smile, curvy in all the right places, and a smooth southern drawl. Smooth and sweet, nothing like your jagged sharp edges. Riley had been brought in with the Woodbury group and quickly made herself useful in running her mouth…but also in learning medical. “Morning.” Riley’s green eyes darted in the direction the men were looking. Because how dare their attention be on anyone but her.

“I feel so bad for her…” She commented, putting herself into their conversation. Rick and Daryl both gave each other a glance. Rick wanted to know about you from you. Not from the gossip and storytelling of others. “I swear it’s like her mouth was sewn into a frown when Jackson died.” Riley actually looked quite empathetic when she said this. “Who was that?”

“Her twin brother.”

Rick took a pause from eating his breakfast to let this new information marinate into his brain. Though neither of them asked for it, Riley continued. “When they first got to Woodbury, everything was fine. But then the Governor wanted Y/n to be one of his soldiers.” Using air quotations at the word soldiers.

“Y/n refused over and over. One night, Governor took Y/n and Jackson for a walk outside of Woodbury’s walls and Jackson didn’t come back…Governor said he got bit but…” Riley’s words trailed off as she looked at your stone-like features. “Y/n joined him after that…some people thought he killed Jackson and used it to force her to.” Her tone was uneasy as if the Governor would come to get her if she dared speak of it.

Or maybe she was more afraid of you.

“After that, I mean..” Riley scoffed dramatically and tried to ease the tension with a laugh, “I-I shouldn’t be talking about this anyway.” She gave the men a sheepish smile before swiftly walking away, joining a full table.

"Forgot how much people love to gossip huh?"

"Hmm," Daryl hummed in response. Rick took Daryl's empty bowl and stacked it on his own. "Gonna go give Judy her breakfast, alright?" As he nudged Daryl with his elbow, Daryl responded with a hum that was accompanied by a nod.

Daryl had learned the art of minding his business a long time ago. He didn't want people in his...so why pry into others?

You had finished your cigarette and smushed it into the concrete under your boot, now aimlessly poking around in the texture of the oatmeal. Carol frequently cooked her oatmeal for a tad too long and with too much liquid, giving it a mushy, snot like texture. It gave you another reason to skip out on breakfast but you at least wanted to try.

Daryl watched as you took a bite from the bowl. You moved around the food in your mouth, chewing slowly. The texture on your tongue was enough to turn you away. You looked in the direction of the bench where all of the younger children sat. Some talking with food still in their mouths. Their chattering stopped when they saw you approach like a dark gloomy cloud threatening rain.

Without saying a word, you placed your bowl in front of Patrick, offering him your share. Behind his thick glasses, he looked at the bowl then at you, and smiled. “Thanks Y/n.” You replied with a nod and walked away. Patrick was one of the few people from Woodbury who was consistently kind to you. He was always polite and never treated you any differently. You had actually heard him defend your name more than once. Perhaps he was just too young to feed into it but it was an act that didn’t go unappreciated by you.

And your act towards Patrick hadn’t gone unnoticed by Daryl. It wasn’t as if you had saved his life but you could’ve thrown your share away. Snuck over to the pig's pen and scraped it in. Instead, you gave it to a child.

Daryl would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't intrigued by you. He had never been intrigued by anyone in his life, though he couldn't deny the itch that was the mystery of you.

Two mornings after that one, Daryl had woken up particularly early. Readying himself to go outside the fences. There was a steady whisper amongst his friends the true reason he wondered out of the safety of the prison walls. The thought of The Governor still being alive haunted Daryl’s mind as it did the others. But no one would do what he did nearly every morning. No one except you.

Not many were typically up at this hour. The sun had barely risen and the morning air was still chilly from the night. When Daryl walked out into the courtyard, he didn’t expect to see you. He knew you were typically up earlier than others but not as early as him, not on days like this. You sat on the top of a picnic bench, feet planted where someone would typically sit. You faced away from Daryl but he could see the puff of smoke that typically followed you.

He could tell you weren’t in your typical nature. Despite the circumstances, you typically kept yourself put together. You wore a black long-sleeve fitted to your body and a pair of old gray sweatpants. Your hair was untamed and frizzy, having not been brushed yet. What had you up this early? What had you out of your cell so disheveled? And obviously, in such a rush?

The drag of the cigarette burned the back of your throat. It wasn’t as if you actually enjoyed smoking them. They tasted bad, itched your throat, and the smoke made your eyes water. But it felt as if holding them stopped your hands from shaking so badly every morning. It didn’t. But you’d keep lying to yourself and saying it did. You had woken up from another devilish dream, jolting you awake with a rapid heart and heavy breathing.

Typically you’d sit on the edge of your bed, head in your hands until your heart rate returned to normal. But on this particular morning, you couldn’t sit any longer in those walls, feeling the tightness of their build.

“Mornin.” He greeted you. What was he doing? Why was he even over here? Daryl’s mind ran with thoughts and questions as he awkwardly disrupted your own running mind.

You glanced over at him, your eyebrows furrowing with confusion. Someone disrupting you at this time wasn’t expected. As soon as Daryl saw the harsh glare hit your features, he regretted his decision. He didn’t know what to say to you or what he was doing. Both of your heads turned at the sound of a door shutting, Carol lugging a big pot over to the serving table.

“Carol’s gonna start setting up soon…if ya wanna get outta here.” Your eyes followed Carol for a second before meeting Daryl’s.

Daryl had never seen you face to face, he’d never even spoken a word to you. Your initial glare wore off your face and you gave Daryl a single nod, standing up from the bench. Daryl caught his bottom lip and nervously chewed at it. “M’going…out” Daryl pointed in the direction of the woods, “If ya wanna come.” You glanced between Daryl and the woods and thought for a second before giving him a proper nod.

“Alright. I’ll wait for ya at the gate with my bike.”

It didn’t take long for you to meet Daryl. You’d switched your pants out with jeans and your bare feet with boots. Accompanied with your backpack and a pair of fingerless gloves to fight the chilly morning. You had obviously run a comb through your hair as well.

Daryl appreciated the space you gave him on the bike. You sat an inch or two back, your arms loose around him. Typically when people rode with him they held on tight, maybe a little too tight and too close for Daryl’s comfort, but you didn’t. A steady routine had been built between you and the archer after that morning. Along with a growing friendship.

Carol had picked up on this growing routine. By the fourth day, she began waking up even earlier, packing both of you lunches and a snack as if she were a mother sending her children to school.

The first few days your silence made Daryl uneasy. But soon, he actually began to enjoy your company. He even enjoyed your silence. It came in handy when he was tracking a deer or bunny.

The two of you had created your own language of looks, touches, and whistles. One morning you had gotten separated from Daryl while tracking and the song of the whistle was born.

The once colorful leaves were now a dirty brown and crunched awfully loud when you stepped on them. The early Fall months were slowly becoming even colder which meant being on the lookout for anything edible became far more important. Especially meat. Daryl had begun to teach you how to track on your own, which meant the two of you could cover more ground on the same hunt.

Your footsteps were steady and quiet, your eyes trained on the consistent tussle of the leaves. There was a specific herd of deer that had been on Daryl’s radar that he’d spotted a few mornings ago. Daryl walked a few feet behind you, checking that the tracks you eyed were accurate.

The leaves began to blend together, and the steady path you found was now lost from your sight. You kneeled down and dug the leaves away from the ground hoping the tracks would be embedded in the dirt. But the ground was too cold and dense to be marked with anything. It was when you turned to face Daryl and accept your defeat that he was no longer there.

A sense of panic seized through you. Your eyes scanned around the surrounding tree lines for a sign of his silhouette but you saw none. You’re fine, you told yourself, but the comfort Daryl’s presence provided was now gone and you were beginning to spiral. You didn’t know these woods well and you didn’t know your way back to the prison from here.

Out of sheer desperation, you brought your lips together and let out a two-tone whistle. You gave it a second of silence and just as you were about to repeat, a long one-tone whistle replied back. Daryl quickly came back through an opening in the trees looking as if he had run back to you. His eyes were filled with panic. “Ya alright?” You nodded, seeing him again immediately put you at ease. “M’sorry. Found the tracks, they go off this way.”

Daryl spent a lot of time studying you. It wasn’t intentional…but he couldn’t help but pay attention to every detail. He knew when something was on your mind by the way you dazed off more or the more cigarettes you smoked. Or the way you fiddled with the sleeves of your shirts and jackets. He understood the different expressions on your face and what every one of them meant. You expressed yourself a lot through your eyebrows and eyes. No matter what expression, your eyes were always filled with such sadness. You never smiled. Even on days when Daryl felt good and felt as if he was going to have some major breakthrough, you never did.

Daryl enjoyed what he’d built with you over these last few months but his mind and body were becoming restless. He yearned for you, he yearned to know you. It was like being covered head to toe in mosquito bites. And then someone tying your hands so you’d never be able to scratch them. He wanted to hear your voice and he wanted to see you smile. He told himself that if he ever got to hear you laugh, he’d start praying and going to the prison chapel.

He realized he’d never even seen your teeth before, though it was an odd thought, it would be added to the pile of things that itched and irritated.

Then there were the other thoughts. The bites that itched but also ached and throbbed. He wanted you to sit closer to him on the bike and he wanted your arms tight around his torso. He wanted to hold your hands and stop them from shaking in the morning. He wanted to keep you close after running away from a hoard.

Daryl had spent his time dissecting you like a frog in science class.

Now, he had grown impatient of dissecting. He’d never wanted anyone how desperately he wanted you. You were his sweet tooth craving, you were his stomach-decaying hunger, and you were his fucking mosquito bite. But despite all of Daryls itches and desires, he'd never try to change you. He'd never push you out of the comfort of your silence though he would always be waiting.

The time spent with Daryl had put a piece of you at ease. You’d had grown a special attachment while Daryl had practically sewn you to his hip. The only time you weren’t with him was when it came time to shower or sleep.

You met Daryl every morning at the gate, ready to go wandering amongst the trees or scavenging. Some day's you made it back in time to catch lunch together. Especially if you had an early morning catch and had to get back before the meat went rancid. Most days, you'd find a quiet and safe spot to eat the lunch Carol packed and made it back to the prison before sunset and dinner.

There was peace in this routine...but you couldn't live in this routine forever. There were other duties that needed attention around the prison. The early morning adventures had become less but the time together never changed.

When you weren't enjoying the company of Daryl, you enjoyed the company of the garden. And when it was too late in the day for either of those things, you read books about the garden and thought about Daryl. You learned what crops could be grown in the winter and then looked for their seeds in old gardening stores...with Daryl.

Some, Most, Every night you thought of him. You thought of all the things he'd taught you, of his patience with you, and all the stories he told to fill the air. He'd tell you stories of him and Merle. You wanted to tell him that you knew Merle. That when the Governor locked you away, Merle would come visit you and sneak you food. That he was kind to you despite being such a prick to everyone else.

But no matter how much time and peace Daryl provided, the nightmares never left you. You still woke up with shaky hands and a racing mind and memories of your brother. Although you did cut the habit of reaching for a cigarette. Mainly because your pack was running low and it was becoming impossible to find any more.

Unknowing to you, Daryl had been finding them while scavenging and hiding them in spots you didn't look.

You grabbed the carrot at its very base and pulled it from the soft dirt, a soft snap following. The gloves that kept your fingers from freezing were covered in mud and bits of green. It had rained in the night which made the ground perfectly soft to harvest produce. So, instead of going out this morning, you and Daryl were in the gardens. Well, Daryl followed you to the gardens and wouldn't leave.

"This one alright?" Daryl held up a cabbage with his own gloved hand only a few feet away. You glanced over and gave him a approving nod. He tossed it into the basket that already held a mixture of carrots, celery, and fresh herbs for Carol's cabbage soup.

Carol had become less of a bother to you. In fact, you'd actually created a swift routine with her. You read and researched the books about plants and gardening while she read the ones about cooking. You were the farmer while she got to play Martha Stewart.

"How's it going you two?" Rick and Carol approached the gardens with a little extra pep in their step. The rain fall had made this winter day chillier which meant everyone was bundling up and multiple fires were lit in the courtyard and cell blocks for warmth. "S'alright!" Daryl shouted as he fought with a carrot that seemed to be deep rooted in the ground. From your kneeling position on the ground, you watched Daryl with amusement as he struggled. You would’ve thought that carrot was as big as a egg plant with all his pull and tug.

“You got it Pookie?” Carol teased, Rick and her both getting their own dose of amusement. “M’fine.” With one last pull, the carrot popped from the dirt. “Ya gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’” Daryl held up the carrot, it was about the size of his thumb. You heard Rick and Carol have their own set of laughter, “Maybe you should stick to huntin’ those deer.” Rick said between a few chuckles. Daryl scoffed and tossed the baby carrot into the basket, as he kneeled down to continue picking, he caught your expression.

It was so small he could’ve missed it but he didn’t and he was so glad he hadn’t. You looked back down towards the dirt, a smirk tugging up the corners of your lips and poking your cheeks, dimpling them. For a second, it felt as if someone had punched Daryl in the chest. But it was there just as fast as it was gone.

From that moment on, Daryl wanted nothing more than to feel that again…as did you. You felt foolish. There was this awful gnawing inside you that was telling you every day what you already knew within your heart. He was chipping away at every wall you’d built up and beginning to break down the wall to a very soft spot of you. You had begun to feel like a turtle removed from its shell. Mushy, sensitive, and vulnerable. Gross.

"Hey Y/n!" The youngest Greene girl greeted. The community of the prison had begun to warm up to you. They no longer avoided you like the plague opting to actually say "hello" or "good morning" or maybe even a "goodnight." It had become very well known the closeness Daryl and you held and if people knew, people talked.

You looked up from your current book to Beth standing in the doorway of your cell clutching a small pile of tan books to herself. "Can I..come in?" She awkwardly shuffled her feet farther in and adjusted the books, you nodded. Beth let the curtain that covered your doorway drop and happily took a seat on your bed. You sat up straight and set your book of, Wildflowers Of All Seasons, on the bed beside you. While you adjusted yourself, Beth seemed to be studying your room.

It was more decorated than she had imagined. Your cell was on the upper level, one down from Daryl's. You had a very small wooden nightstand beside your bed that had various half-melted candles. Their wax dripped down the sides and embedded itself into the wood. On the wall across from your bed stood a very slim wooden table.

It was decorated with different trinkets and bottles you'd scavenged, a zippo lighter, and a stack of your growing book collection. Shoved underneath was a wire basket that held all your clothes. Your only 2 pairs of boots and bookbag sat beside it. Your everyday black, fleece-lined jacket was hung off the pole of your bed.

"I found these in the library and thought you might like them." Beth laid out the books on your bed, making it a point to show you every single one of them. Peterson - Field Guide to... They all read. They were very small and slim, a pale shade of tan, with various illustrations on the front pertaining to the title. Perfect to slip into your bag.

"I thought they'd be nice for you to carry when you go out in the mornings." Beth watched as you examined each book, "I wanted to grab them for you before anyone else found 'em." Beth held a very innocent hopeful smile the whole time she spoke to you but your silence was causing her to become uneasy. You picked up a specific one, Field Guide to Animal Tracks. You looked up at the girl and gave her a thin-lipped smile to show your appreciation.

A wide smile formed on her face and she left with a very sweet "Goodnight."

Glenn relieved Daryl from watch tower duty later than expected. It had to of been close to midnight when he got back to his cell. As he walked by your cell, he carefully peeled back your green curtain to check on you. You were a restless sleeper, Daryl heard you almost every night tossing and turning or waking up with a jolt.

Most of your features were concealed by the darkness but from what was visible, you appeared to be in a peaceful sleep. There was a veil of softness to you when you slept. A softness and calmness that never graced you during waking hours. He knew it wouldn’t last very long but he wanted to ensure that at least right now, you were okay. But he could not stand and watch all night. He felt creepy enough.

Daryl noticed the little tan book sitting on his bed as soon as he pulled back his curtain. The moonlight slightly gleamed off the sleek shiny cover. Field Guide to Animal Tracks. As Daryl flipped the book open to its title page, he felt his ears and cheeks warm up. Thankfully the darkness concealed his cheeky smile.

To Daryl. Not like you need it. - Y/n.

The group of deer that Daryl had spotted a month ago was still high on his radar. Though he still had yet to actually catch any of them.

The cabbage soup was still hot in your thermal, emitting a cloud of steam when you popped off the lid. You and Daryl sat in each other's company in your typical spot. A large tree had fallen down just at the entrance to a clearing in the woods providing a perfect resting spot. Had it been Spring or Summer you could only imagine the beauty of the green scenery. But this cold winter didn't provide much besides dry grounds, barren trees, and a frozen pond.

There was a peaceful silence that settled, as it always did. You both ate your soups and turned the pages of your books. Surprisingly, Daryl had actually learned a good bit from the book you gifted and he thoroughly enjoyed it.

"Ask ya something'?" You broke your concentration from your book and looked to Daryl. "Ya know why I started coming out here in the first place, right?"

You took a second to think before hesitantly nodding. "Ya never said anything." Daryl truly never understood why. He never hid it from you but still, you never asked questions. You didn't ask what the notes were on all the maps he had, never asked where you were going, or when you'd be back. But he always knew that you knew he wasn't just hunting deer, he was hunting the governor. "What would ya do...? If you ever got to him?"

Perhaps Daryl had pushed too far. Your head snapped back down to your book, though Daryl knew you weren't actually reading anymore. Your eyes were out of focus and your lips formed a frown. You had never taken the time to think about it. You just knew you wanted him to suffer.

Daryl hadn't spoken another word to you since lunch knowing he had poked at a very sensitive subject. "Wait here a second," Daryl said just as you made it back to his bike. He jogged back into the tree line leaving you sitting on the bike, awaiting his return. Daryl returned soon after, a cluster of bright yellow daffodils in hand. You gave him a puzzled glance but as he held out his hand and said, for you, you felt the urgency to cry. Your nose burning up with tingles and your eyes becoming glazed.

"Thought ya might like 'em, I saw them in your book earlier." Your hand gently took them from Daryl's and you stood still. Very still.

Daryl awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. "They're uh...daffodils, right? Start bloomin' late January into March?" He had secretly been sneaking reads of your books over your shoulder. It was so fast it startled him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into you, every muscle in his body stiffened. Daryl was reluctant to hug you back but he gave into his heart and gently laid his arms around your torso. The large jackets you both wore proved to be a barrier from feeling the true touch of the other.

“Thank you.” Your words were raspy and just above a whisper. Had you not been so close, Daryl probably would’ve missed them. “Course.” His words were mumbled against your shoulder, not wanting to make a big deal. A low groan in the distance disrupted your short moment of peace, telling you it was about time to go.

The sun was beginning to set when Daryl’s bike rode up the gravel path to the prison. The smell of a brewing soup hit your nose as the two of you began to walk closer to the dining area. “Find a table, I gotcha.” Daryl’s hand lingered on your shoulder for a second longer than it typically did. Despite wearing such a thick layer of clothes, it was as if you could still feel his touch. Even after he was already at the serving table striking up a conversation with Carol.

You sat your pack down at the usual table. It was farthest to the left, farthest away from all the other tables. “Mind if we join you?” Glenn asked, he and Maggie both holding a steaming bowl. Just as you were about to take your own seat, a loud chuckle sounded snapping you around.

“Oh come on Y/n.” Two men had been walking past on their way to fetch their own dinners. You recognized them, they were commonly on wall duty at Woodbury. The taller one motioned to the flowers that poked out from the front pocket of your jacket. “You can’t be serious.” You could feel your heart drop to the very pit of your stomach. It was as if your body was preparing you for the merciless mocking that was sure to come.

“You’re telling me the Governor’s number one soldier is walking around with flowers in her pockets?”

Stop.

You wanted to say but the words became a ball in your throat. Your eyes darted off to the side. All of a sudden, you didn’t know where to look or what to do with your hands or how to stand properly on your feet. You knew the truth behind their “jokes”.

You are not soft. You are not delicate. You are not loveable.

“The hell are ya doin?” Daryl had practically appeared out of thin air, putting himself between you and the men. You saw this as an opportunity to make an escape for your cell block.

“We were just teasing man. We were friends in Woodbury, just joking around.” They still had slimy smirks on their faces that only poked Daryl even more.

Daryl was fuming. “Didn’t look like she was fucking laughin’.” He took a step closer. “She never fucking laughs!” Before Daryl could unleash his fiery rage, Rick intervened. Rick beckoned Daryl to walk away, mumbling that everyone was looking. “Hell if I care.” Daryl snapped swinging his arm in the air. He turned on his boot and snatched up your pack that you’d left behind before going off to find you.

Daryl hadn’t found you in any of your traditional spots. He checked your cell, the library, the garden, and even the showers. He asked everyone he walked past if they’d seen you but no one had, it was as if you just vanished. And the thought of that was throwing Daryl into a deep pit.

The prison chapel had been restored and decorated by Carol to be used for the grieving prison folk. She had put as many candles as possible on a long wooden table. They had been burned and replaced so frequently that the wax dripped down the sides of the table and dropped dots on the floor. There were many different pictures of lost family members or lovers littering the table…it was quite depressing truthfully. The glow of the candles lit up the room and cast an orange glow on your sad features.

You didn’t look at Daryl as he sat down beside you.

“Didn’t know you were religious.”

“I’m not.”

It was an odd thing…to hear you speak so openly but Daryl wasn’t opposed. “I just…” Your voice was hoarse and low, as low as a whisper. “I find this a way to be with my brother.” Daryl had gotten so used to silence that it almost startled him to hear so many words come from your lips. You shook back the hair that fell on your face and let out a deep sigh, resting your back flat against the wooden church pew. Daryl didn’t want to speak, he didn’t want to scare your voice away, he just wanted to listen.

“I hope that doesn’t sound foolish.”

“It doesn’t.” Daryl shifted himself closer to you. “It doesn’t.” He repeated, his thigh pressed against yours. And for some reason, you felt the need to spill your guts. Perhaps being in a church would drag you to confess. “I-uhmm…I never fought against the prison. I refused to do any of it. I truthfully didn’t care if he killed me for it.” You didn’t have to explain yourself to Daryl but you felt the need to. If what you felt towards him was what you thought, you had to. “But, he just locked me in my room. Wouldn’t let me out.” Somehow, Daryl knew. He never saw you with the Governor, never saw you fighting. And when Rick told him the locked room he found you in, he pieced it together.

“Everything is true though. Everything they say about me, everything he made me do before that.”

Daryl didn’t care, he never had. Daryl cared that you didn’t want to. He cared about the fact that you were forced to. You shrugged your shoulders and looked off, “I’m as guilty as they come.”

Daryl couldn’t stand the sad look on your face, “Alright then…put yer hands behind yer back. I’ll take ya to your cell.” His joking manner caught you so off guard that a laugh escaped you. It was airy and gentle. He truly couldn’t believe it.

You laughed. And Daryl was in church.

Daryl returned to his serious demeanor to reassure you, “I care about how he hurt ya, Y/n. Don’t care what you did.”

Your eyes found Daryl’s in the dimly lit room and for a second you felt it, deep within your chest. And it ached and feared but it also loved. “Good.” You couldn’t fight the smile that squeezed your cheeks as you looked at him. Your eye contact broke allowing silence to welcome itself back. But only for a short time. “Daffodils are the birth flower of March…Jackson and I were born in March.”

After that night in the chapel, Daryl wanted nothing more than to hear your voice. It felt like his ears were filled with honey every time you spoke. It was raspy yet smooth with a hint of a southern drawl from growing up in Georgia. A thick rich honey that he wanted in a cup of hot tea and to take down his throat.

Winter was soon turning to Spring. The sky was bluer and most days the sun shined. The green of the grass and trees were returning. The garden was beginning to look even more promising come warmer weather. And just as the flowers were beginning to take bloom, so were you.

Your hard demeanor had softened, especially for Daryl. You still didn’t talk to many people besides him but you said a word or two when you wanted. Daryl took it upon himself to give Jackson a “grave” where the others were. It was just two pieces of wood, formed into a cross with his name carved in it, planted into the ground. “So that ya don’t have to go down to the chapel. Ya can be outside with him and the garden and stuff.” He had said when he showed you.

“It’s rotten work trying to find these deer.” You and Daryl strolled the wooded area, eyes on the deer tracks that embedded themselves in the dirt. Daryl shushed you and continued his concentration on the tracks. You smiled to yourself and shook your head. “I was rotten work…at the beginning.”

“Nah ya weren’t, not to me.” Daryl didn’t even hesitate, he didn’t even turn look at you. He just continued walking ahead of you, following the tracks.

The two of you settled in your usual spot. Leaning against the fallen tree at the opening to the clearing in the woods. You were right about the clearing looking more beautiful in the warmth of Spring. The trees were plump with fresh green leaves and the water in the pond sparkled under the sunlight. The grass grew tall with a mixture of white and yellow wildflowers. Your fingers ran the edge of the book page as you turned it.

Your current book was, Field Guide to Medical Plants and Herbs. There was some type of cold floating around the prison and finding the medical supplies to treat it was sparse and you’d do anything you could to help.

Daryl was interrupted from tending to his bow by your elbow jabbing his side. Without looking at him, you held up a folded piece of paper and pen. Daryl gave you an odd glare before plucking them from your fingertips. You did this often. When you couldn’t be bothered to use your voice or if you didn’t want to break concentration from a book.

There’s so many things I want to say to you.

Daryl could feel his heart begin to quicken its pace within his chest. He didn’t know what your words meant but at the same time, he did.

The folded paper got tossed back into your lap.

There’s so many things I want to say to you.

So say them.

Just then, a rustling sound sounded from within the trees from across the clearing. You gripped for your blade as Daryl grabbed for his bow. Two deers came through the trees, their white and tan tails flicking back and forth. You could’ve sworn you heard Daryl stop breathing for a second. Daryl slowly leaned up on his knees, bow in hand raising to his eye. Your eye caught it before Daryl’s did.

Another deer emerged from the trees, a fawn close behind her…and then another. “Don’t.” You brought your hand to Daryl’s bow and lowered it to point at the ground. He went to protest but when he saw the twin fawns happily nibbling at the tall grass, he stopped. It was a beautiful sight, as were you.

When your eyes broke away from the deers and to him, that’s when he decided. Daryl cupped your cheek lightly and met your lips with his. His lips were gone just as fast as they were there but his hand didn’t leave. He was still so close that your lips feathered his. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pulled him down to you again.

What happened that day was never spoken of. But as Daryl sat in the darkness of the train cart in Terminus, he so deeply wish it had been.

But now, you were gone as was the prison. The look on your face, when the Governor stood outside the prison, was burned into Daryl’s eyelids. The way your chest heaved with anger, your hands shook with rage, and revengeful teary eyes stared off. The last he saw was you slipping out through the prison fence to go after him. Daryl yelled at you to not do it, to come with him, but you didn’t listen. You’d let yourself die if it meant you finally got your hands on him and Daryl knew it.

You could be dead. You could’ve died weeks ago fighting the Governor. You could be out there alone and starving and scared. Or you could be just fine. Daryl would never know.

When Terminus fell and he watched Rick cuddle and kiss Judith in his arms, he had a surge of hope. And when he saw Carol alive, he had more hope. As everyone said hello, it was as if he waited, waiting for you to magically appear. “Nobody has Y/n?” A deafening silence followed, quieter than you ever were. “Daryl…” Michonne stepped towards him. As he went to walk away, she stopped him placing a hand on rising his chest. “Darlyl. I’m not saying she didn’t make it. I’m just saying she didn’t look good.”

“Yeah? And you didn’t help her?” Daryl snapped shoving her hand off his chest. “Get off me.” Daryl seethed with hot tears in his icy blue eyes. It became an unspoken rule to not speak your name around him.

Your hand pressed firmly on the wound that oozed blood down your side as you limped your way into the cell block. Your right side was stained in the crimson color, all the way down to the knee of your jeans. You strained and let out a groan of pain as you took a step up the stairs that led to your cell. You didn’t need to look at yourself to know you looked awful. The walkers that completely ignored your existence when you limped by them told you enough.

Your entire torso throbbed in pain. The bruising from the kicks you took to the stomach were forming and it felt impossible to move. Your head felt like tv static and you had an undying desire to sleep. But you couldn’t. You likely had a concussion and knew that if you slept now, you wouldn’t be getting back up. Besides, you had to find Daryl. There was a hope that he’d stayed in the area and you’d find him if you just looked. You knew the woods around here well, you could find him. He was waiting for you, he had to be.

In your fuzzy state of mind, you threw whatever you touched into your pack. You changed out of ruined clothes and into clean ones. When the collar of your shirt dragged down your face, you let out a whimper of pain as it got caught on your bottom lip. There was a cut that dragged from the under your left nostril, across the left corner of your lips, and ended at the bottom of your chin.

It became a blur how you left your cell safely and ended up on the path Daryl and you walked every morning. You had to get to your spot. The spot with the fallen tree and clearing. Daryl would wait for you there. You were sure of it. When you got there and he wasn’t there, it was okay, you told yourself. You just had to wait for him.

You lowered yourself to the ground, a few whimpers of pain escaping your lips. With your back resting against the tree and arm draped over your mid section, you slipped into unconscious. You awoke to the sound of a man’s voice. “Hey, hey.” He said trying to wake you but your eyelids were too heavy to lift and you felt the weight of every muscle in your body. “Heath! Go tell Laura to bring the car around. We gotta take her back.”

“It’s a ten hour drive back Aaron, you think she’s gonna make it?”

“I don’t know.”

You awoke with a slight jolt. Your chest heaved with heavy breathes as your eyes dilated to the bright and unfamiliar room. Your body ached but the softness of the mattress you laid on seemed to comfort it. “Pete, go get Deanna.” Aaron instructed, sitting up in his seat next to your bedside. Your eyes wandered the room, trying to figure out where you were. “Hey. I’m Aaron. You’re in the infirmary in a community called Alexandria.” You looked to the man that sat to your right. He had a very kind face and gentle eyes. His clothes were perfectly clean and his curly brown hair was freshly washed and fluffy.

“Myself and others were on a trip along the East Coast to look for survivors to bring here.” Aaron clarified further, “We found you and brought you back, you were in really bad shape…you still…you still kind of are.”

Aaron could see the confusion and panic drawn on your face. Your head snapped to the door when you heard footsteps on the polished wood floors. “Hi” Deanna gently said approaching your bedside. “We’ve been waiting for you to wake up. What’s your name?”

Your mouth hung open for a second, your mind still wasn’t clear, and you had no clear memory of the last three days. “Y/n” You finally replied, voice hoarse and raspy. Deanna smiled at you, “Where am I?” You asked finally finding your voice. Deanna and Aaron exchanged a glance, “You’re in a safe community called Alexandria in Virginia.”

Virginia?

You could feel your world begin to tumble, a thousand thoughts racing your mind. You were so far away from Georgia. You were away from home. Away from Daryl. “No.” You attempted to pull yourself out of the bed but were stopped by Aaron softly holding you back. “No, no, no.” You repeated and dropped your head down into your hands as panicked sobs racked your chest. “Pete! Go get her something to calm down.”

You didn’t want pills to help calm down. You wanted to go home. You wanted to be with him. You sat yourself up in the bed despite the pain in your torso telling you not to. “Daryl?” You asked Deanna. She could see the desperation in your teary eyes, “I’m sorry we only found you.”

Aaron sat up from the dirt floor of the barn after Rick had knocked him unconscious. Rick’s group continuously went back and forth with one another debating their plan. Once they finally decided and everyone was being assigned a position, Rick turned to Daryl. “Daryl, go keep an eye-“

“Wait, Daryl?” Aaron interrupted Rick’s order from his spot on the floor. He felt everyone’s eyes on him in an instant. “Daryl Dixon, right? Y-you knew an Y/n?” Daryl stomped over to Aaron and gripped him by the front of his shirt, pulling him close. “How the hell ya know Y/n?” Daryl’s tone was threatening yet shaky. Aaron knew if he didn’t start talking he’d end up back on the floor.

“She’s in Alexandria, she lives with me, she’s safe! A-a little over a month ago, myself and others were on a trip along the East Coast looking for survivors. We found her in the woods down in Georgia.” Aaron took a pause, “She was in really bad shape, we brought her back and she’s been there ever since.”

“She talks about you all the time.” Daryl’s hand shook around the fabric of Aaron’s shirt, his eyes studied his face trying to find any indicator that he was lying. ”I don’t fuckin’ believe ya.” The thought of you being alive and safe comforted Daryl but he wouldn’t so easily believe a stranger. “I’m not lying, I swear.” Aaron frantically said, “She-she gave me something to give to you. It’s in the front pocket of my bag.”

Daryl shoved Aaron back to the ground with a thud. Rick tossed Aaron’s bag to Daryl, practically tearing off the zipper getting into it. Daryl’s unsteady hands pulled out the familiar small tan book. As he flipped open to the title page, he read the words you’d written to another that day.

There’s so many things I want to say to you.

So say them.

As Daryl read the new words you’d written, he could feel the lump forming in his throat.

It was easier to die than to say them.

“I probably should’ve led with that, huh?” Aaron joked attempting to lighten the mood. Rick’s gruff voice responded, “Shut up.”

The sun shined in Alexandria despite the rainstorm that came through the night before. You found yourself where you always were, in the gardens. The heavy rain had bent many of the plants out of shape and the raised wooden garden beds were flooded. The mixture of water and grass squelched under your boots as you examined the damage. With a deep sigh, you pulled out a box of cigarettes from your back pocket along with a zippo lighter. It wasn’t a habit you proudly picked back up. But after the fall of the prison and Daryl no longer being there to help you, it found its way back.

You tilted your head up to the sky and blew the smoke from your lips. You closed your eyes and let the sunlight cast its rays onto your face. And as you did, you tried to imagine that you were standing in the garden of the prison again. That Daryl stood only a few feet away, fighting with a vegetable, and cursing as he did.

“Hey Y/n.”

Spencer disrupted your daydream, standing a few feet away and calling out your name. “Sorry,” He jokingly held up his hands in surrender, “Aaron’s back, he asked for you at the gate.” Aaron had returned to Alexandria several times over the past month with new faces. Every time you’d go to the gate and wait for him to return, your heart full of hope. But every time the same disappointment rained down on you. It was never who you wanted, it was never him. So, when Aaron told you about a group he’d been tracking and trying to bring back, you didn’t care to listen. You saved my ass and now you think you can save everyone? You said to him a few nights ago.

“Going.” You replied bluntly. You wouldn’t allow your hopes to grow just to be smashed into pieces. Your eyes were on the ground as you walked to the front gate, cigarette dangling from your lips, and hair falling in your face. Spencer talked his jaw off beside you, every word he spoke going in one ear and out the other. But the sound of a familiar whistle vibrating against your eardrums perked your head up in an instant.

You tossed your cigarette from your mouth and found your way back to him. Daryl met you halfway, his arms desperately pulling you in close. Your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, feeling his shaky breaths on the skin of your own. Your hair was soft and smelled of shampoo. Daryl grasped the fabric of your shirt that smelled ever so slightly of cigarettes.

When Daryl pulled away to look at you, he finally saw the fresh scar drawn on your lips. He wanted to scold you. To tell you how foolish you'd been to go after the Governor alone. "Ya got him?" Was all he could bring himself to ask. You avoided answering but you nodded, "Come on, I wanna go see everyone else."

Despite the group still not fully trusting Alexandria, they felt more at ease knowing you’d been kept safe here. After helping Rick settle the group into the Alexandrian homes, you sat on the front porch with Daryl. Daryl hadn’t let you out of his sight for a second. Everything you did and every where you went, he was there. Besides when Carol shoved him away to shower.

The two of you passed back and forth a lit cigarette, comfortable in the silence of the night air. “Tara asked me about the Governor.” Your words were quiet just incase anyone were listening. Daryl looked to you. “Yeah?” With a deep sigh, you blew the smoke from your mouth. “Yeah…asked what he did to me.”

Daryl could see the way the thought of it dragged your lips into that familiar frown. “Told her I didn’t wanna make her guilty conscious even worse.” You said it as if it was meant to be a joke but Daryl saw through it. “It’s gettin late.” Daryl begin to break you from those thoughts. He was right. The sun had set about an hour ago and everyone was setting up their beds for the night.

“Ya ah….Ya gonna go home?” Daryl didn’t want you to leave, he never wanted to be without you again. “I am home.” There was no hesitation in your reply. Daryl’s eyes snapped to yours in an instant. “Ain’t what I meant.” You stood from your spot and reached a hand out to him, “Come with me.” Daryl glanced between your hand and your eyes. The night was dark and the porch light dim but you could see the rosy color blotch at his cheeks. You lightly kicked his foot with your own, “Just wanna show you where I’ve been staying.”

Your room was in the fully furnished basement of Aaron and Eric’s home. Aaron had welcomed you in, knowing you couldn’t be on your own in your condition. The stairs were on the farthest right wall of the basement, leading you down into a lounge like area with tan carpet and white walls. An L shaped leather couch sat in front of a, now useless, flat screen TV. Past the couch, on the back wall, stood two white doors. Daryl presumed behind one of them laid your bedroom.

You walked him over to the left door and pushed it open. There was nothing special about your room. Simply a bed, two nightstands, a dresser, and a bookshelf in the corner. You sat at the foot of your bed, Daryl took it as a sign to do the same. “I’m sorry Daryl.” Your voice was just above a whisper, avoiding his eyes when you spoke. “I should’ve looked harder for him…I shouldn’t of gotten so distracted.” Your head hung low in shame, “I should’ve talked about that day..in the woods.” The dimly lit room hid the tears that fell from your eyes. “I should’ve said everything I wanted to say.”

“We should’ve.” Daryl corrected you, stopping all your blabbering. Your watery eyes met his with a look of confusion. “Everythin’ ya said. I was there too. S’not all your fault Y/n.” The impact of Daryl’s words made you go quiet. “Ain’t yer fault what he did to you either.”

“I love you.”

Daryl had never shut his mouth so fast in his life. You weren’t sure where your outburst of confidence came from but you didn’t regret it. You accepted it every waking day and every sleepless night you were apart from him. “Nah, ya don’t.” Daryl rejects your confession at the grace of his own insecurity. Your hands raise themselves to his face, a stern look gracing your features. “I have since the prison.”

Daryl didn’t know what to do. He could feel his heart pounding against his chest and the warmth from your hand on his cheek. You gently lean in before connecting your lips with his. When you pulled away, you rested your forehead against his own. If you had just ruined everything Daryl and you had, you at least wanted to bask in his presence one last time. “I love ya too.” Daryl leaned back in, capturing your lips in his.

The night you’d spent together was full of gentle touches and whispers. The only time silence happened was the sleep bestowed upon you afterwards. Your bedroom was dimly lit come morning time. The only windows in your room were up towards the ceiling, just above ground level. For the first time since Jackson died, you woke up peacefully. No panic attack awaiting you, no need to run away and fill your lungs with smoke. Feelings of the night before returned to your mind, memories in vivid detail. Daryl awoke when he felt the movement of the sheet from beside him.

With your back turned to him, Daryl took it upon himself to graze the skin of your bare back with his fingertips. He caught a glance at the deep scarring along your side. The gash had turned into a raised, dark pink, bruised color on your skin. Daryl could see shadow of lines covering its length from the stitches that had held it together.

As his fingertips traveled down, they stopped on another scar. The left side of your lower back was imbedded with the letter “G”. The scarring of the initial raised your skin, though it wasn’t pink and bruised like the other. It had healed to a shade paler than your skin tone. Daryl simply couldn’t believe it. Fucking bastard.

“Branding iron.” You begin, voice slightly rasp from sleep. “Never did it to anyone else…just me.” Daryl’s hand fell from your back, “Come here.” You reluctantly did so, turning to face him. His hand found the side of your face that didn’t rest on the plush pillow. His facial expression’s became serious but his eyes remained gentle. “Ain’t gonna let no one treat you like that ever again. Ya feel like someone breathes around ya the wrong way, you tell me alright?” You playfully rolled your eyes, a cheeky smile forming but you still replied “Alright.”

Daryl thumb drug along your bottom lip, stopping at the pale scar. “Promise ya won’t ever stop doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“…Bein’ happy.”

–––––––––––

A/n: I've proof read this over and over so I hope everyone is able to enjoy it and theres no mistakes! If anyone would like to submit a request, feel free too. If it's a project i'd be willing to take on, I will try my best to get to it.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead #daryl x you #twd #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #daryl twd #daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixion x reader #twd x reader #daryl / reader #twd fanfiction #daryl dixon / reader

[lilgoblinbitch]

☾₊˚ ༘⋆

daryl dixon is a munch.

that man LOVES eating your pussy. everything about it makes him rock fucking hard; your moans, the way you tangle your hands in his hair when he licks and sucks your pulsing cunt, and how you wrap your thighs around his head ensuring he doesn’t stop. but he doesn’t stop, he keeps going. his face is between your legs for 10 minutes, 30 minutes, hell sometimes even hours. he just can’t get enough.

daryl dixon also likes to fuck.

he loves watching your eyes roll to the back of your skull while he pounds into you, hips rutting into your core with his big hands manhandling your thighs. he always makes you feel good. always paying special attention to your sensitive little bud.

“feels so good, daryl.” you’d say.

“doin’ s’good f’me, baby.”

he loves praising you. you’re always so good for him. your cunt is a prison, and his cock is the prisoner; except he won’t be bailing out.

☾₊˚ ༘⋆

#the walking dead #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon #daryl dixon drabble #twd #twd smut #twd drabble #twd headcanons #twd daryl #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x fem!reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x you #goblin writes #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl dixon headcanon #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl smut

[dreamtofus]

I just want to thank anyone and everyone who writes fanfic

like wdym this masterpiece is FREE

ps reblog ur fav fics.

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #daryl x reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #ellie williams oneshot #twd #twd daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon smut #frank castle x you #frank castle fanfiction #ellie williams angst #joel miller tlou #tlou joel #atla x reader #female reader #reader insert #fanfiction recommendation #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr #one direction #rick grimes oneshot #zuko imagine #zuko fluff #the walking dead fic #daryl dixon fanfic #leon kennedy

[sleepyangelkami]

SICKENED d.dixon

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 2.1K

DARYL DIXON X FEM!READER

 ☆ SUMMARY - when you don't show up to your lunch date with daryl, he suspects somethings wrong and makes his way across the commonwealth, only to find you sprawled out in your bed, temperature high.

 ☆ WARNINGS - fever, mentions of being sick, emetophobia, vomit, throwing up, daryl is mentioned to be quite a big older than reader, reader is mentioned to have hair, mention of anxiety, (1) use of y/n, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

daryl dixon was something of a fearless warrior, and also a fearful worrier.

you liked the commonwealth, as much as one could when filled with the doubtful thoughts that whoever was in charge, would soon betray your people. when you got to the commonwealth, daryl was the one who seemed most worried. you were worried too, until you tasted the cotton candy they had to offer and you were sure this was a good place.

daryl became a trooper while you worked at the bakery, alongside your good friend carol. carol was possibly one of the best workers in there. you liked to think that your baked treats were nice but nothing could ever compare to carol’s sugar cookies. 

with you and carol being so close, she knew you and daryl had been itching to spend more time together. while you could enjoy the commonwealth as much as your ability would allow you to, you couldn’t deny the fact that you missed daryl. it seemed as though he was always working, always picking up shifts or being given them by the governors son. 

for some reason, he threw tasks at him like he had something to prove.

nonetheless, daryl worked tirelessly and endlessly until finally, he got a day off.

the kids would be in school until three, so you both decided that it was finally time for you guys to spend some time together, just the two of you.

you’d walked into the bakery two days early, grinning from ear to ear though carol was already changing your shifts, putting her on yours so you’d get the day off. when you’d stared at her with an open mouth, she’d only winked. “daryl told me.” she’d shrugged.

everything had fallen into place smoothly.

daryl was old enough, much older than you, he’d been on plenty dates before and he’d been with you for what felt like forever.

yet he still couldn’t stop the nerves from swarming in his stomach.

he’d arrived to the caffé early, at least he thought he was early seeing as you were nowhere to be seen.

then a couple moments went by, one of the workers walked himself outside to where he was sitting, asking him if he was ready to order.

daryl suddenly felt worry eat at his stomach, and it was nothing like the nerves from before. there was pre-apocalyptic nerves like taking your girlfriend out on a date and then there was the post-apocalyptic nerves, the sullen worry that something had gone terribly wrong.

he cleared his throat, glancing at the menu in front of him. “‘m waiting for someone.” he gruffed out to which the waiter smiled.

the man had a cloth draped across his arm, looking sufficient as ever. daryl thought he looked stupid. “right. take your time.” 

though it appeared to be you that was taking your time.

daryl worried easily. perhaps it was due to how many people he’s lost. perhaps it was because nowadays, it seemed like you were the only one that truly mattered to him anymore. nonetheless, he barely waited a half hour before slinging back on his sleeveless leather jacket, face screwed up as his boot covered feet found themselves stalking across the town.

he owned a little apartment, one that had rather noisy neighbours. you owned a large, three bedroom house, always inviting daryl and the kids over. truth be told, the kids rathered your house than they did his little apartment.

daryl didn’t know how he ended up standing in front of your house so quickly but he didn’t bother to try recall his events, instead, he brought his fist up to the grey door, knocking down on it harshly.

he received no answer.

worry ate him from the inside.

you were fine, you were fine. you had to be fine.

as fine as you may have been, it didn’t stop him from applying his body weight on the door, shoving it open. he watched as your lock fell broken on the ground, pursing his lips and making a mental note to buy you another.

the common wealth was strange and so was having to worry about money again.

the man found himself walking up your stairs. he called out your name once, then twice. 

he received no answer. 

it wasn’t until he stood in front of your bedroom door, creaking it open when he felt slight relief.

he could make out the strands of your hair that sat atop your baby pink pillow. he walked further into the room, your curtains were still closed. then, he could make out the way your brows had strewn themselves together.

your face looked uncomfortable.

he wasted no time in waking you. “baby, get up.” his large hands were placed on your smaller body, gently rocking your body. it was unlikely for you to be sleeping this late, you were the kind of girl that went to bed early and rose the same. 

you woke with an uncomfortable noise leaving your lips, a type of whimper as you screwed your eyes shut.

“wh’s wrong, hm?” instead of being angry that you missed your date, he instead sat himself on the bed, fingers brushing away the strands of your hair. his brows furrowed when he placed the back of his hand on your forehead, feeling the scorching skin. “you’re burnin’ up.” 

you offered up to response to that. “what time is it?” your voice was scratchy and broken, blinking heavily and slowly as you tried to rise from the bed. 

instead of helping you up, he practically forced your body back down to the bed. “why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” 

your lips turned into a type of pout. “did i miss our date?” you’d been looking forward to it for ages.

“no matter about lunch.” he waved you off, focusing on the more important task at hand. “how long you been feelin’ like this, sweetheart?” the way his tone seemed to rest so gently was enough for your insides to feel almost warm.

you shrugged your shoulders, feeling drowsy as ever. “a day… i think.”

a sigh left his lips. he’d been so preoccupied with his new job that he’d hardly had time for anything anymore. I mean, it was you who was getting judith and rj up in the morning, making sure they were dressed and ready for school. by the time he woke, you’d have them off and made his breakfast. 

“daryl…” his eyes snapped back to you, ridding his thoughts. “i don’t feel so good.” 

and there it was.

the sick-anxiety.

“okay, let’s get you sat up.” he helped you into a seated position beneath the blankets, your brows were scrunched together, eyes weary. 

he knew how anxious you got when it came to being ill, that was why he was thankful you never did. 

“how’s the stomach, huh? not feelin’ good?” you only shook your head at him, eyes beginning to sting. “okay, that’s okay, jus’ relax f’me.” 

your eyes were slightly wide and watery as they followed his movements. he crossed the room, grasping the bin that sat by your door. he glanced inside, taking out the single piece of plastic and placing it on the desk as a later problem. 

now that the bin was empty, he manoeuvred it towards the bed. 

“think you’re gonna be sick?” you looked a little green but shook your head nonetheless. he nodded before peeling the blankets back, sitting his body next to your own. sick and all, all he’d ever want is to be close to you. “why didn’t you tell me? could’a helped.” 

you shrugged your shoulders, placing your head against his strong arm. “i missed the date.” you spoke all pouty. 

he couldn’t help the way his lips quirked up. even in your own sickness, all you worried about was that damned date. “‘s just lunch, darlin’.” placing your hair behind your ear. “can get it any day.” 

in attempts to not look too bummed out, you glanced down to his hand which he’d interlinked with yours. “not with your job.” 

he caught on to the sadness etched in your voice right away. he cleared his throat. “‘s just for a little longer, promise.” 

it took a couple moments for your breathing to become slightly shallow. his eyes traced over you gently, waiting for any sudden movements. even though your mouth hadn’t so much as opened, his hand was still inching towards the bin that sat at the edge of the bed. “daryl.” your voice sounded much more broken than before. “‘m gonna…”

he didn’t need to be told twice.

skillfully, the man grabbed the bucket before your sentence could even finish. he placed it on the bed before you, helping your head hover over it as you emptied the contents of your stomach into the bin. he heard you half cry while throwing up, and he shushed you quietly.

“‘s okay, you’re okay.” while you held the bin, he used one hand to gather your hair, keeping it away from the sick bucket while the other hand rubbed gently up and down your back. “doin’ so good.” you could barely hear him now. his words were muffled and fell against deaf ears as you focused everything on finishing.

he waited until your head rose from the bin before taking it from your grasp, shushing you and helping you towards the bathroom.

sooner or later, he ended up flushing the contents down the toilet, using pieces of kitchen paper and antibacterial spray to wash the bin out while you brushed your teeth.

he’d been praising you the entire way while you stayed silent, sniffling.

it was no secret that the anxiety was eating you from the inside out. he knew this was the hardest part, though. the first time is always the worst but hopefully it was only a bug and it would subside in a couple hours. 

once you finished with your teeth, placing the toothbrush against the counter, you turned back to the man. he simply gave you a look of sympathy. “c’mere.” 

and you didn’t have to be told twice.

you kept your head hidden in his arms, letting the fat tears fall against your cheeks. you felt so stupid for crying, it only made you cry more. and that caused daryl to shush you. “It’s okay, it’s all over, baby.” though it mightn’t have been, he still chose to keep the positivity. he didn’t judge you for the way you cried like a downright baby, instead, his hands moved to gently caress you, lips pressing kisses against the crown of your head and sweet nothings falling from his lips. “did so good, my brave girl.” and hearing his words did help, it lulled you in a way that beat the anxiety that crawled up your throat.

he waited until you’d calmed down a little before tucking you back into bed.

it didn’t take long for sleep to succumb over you then. he sat with you for many moments after that, gently playing with the loose strands of your hair and not the ones that were stuck to your face.

with the fever that you had, he assumed a headache would only follow.

deciding to be careful enough not to wake you, he crawled out of the bed to grab you some aspirin, knowing you’d need it by the time you woke.

and he was right.

as soon as your eyes had peeled themselves open, you were whining. he couldn’t help but smile at you, such a whiner. but it was okay, because you had him to shush you and coo at you, telling you everything would be alright. 

after your relentless whines, he reached over to the television, grasping the remote and switching it on. “what’re we watching?” you asked, yawning to yourself. today had been a long day, and you hadn’t even made it out of bed.

daryl was thankful that carol was taking the kids after school and keeping them for the night. while it was supposed to be for other reasons, he was still glad that he could spend the time with you, even if you were sweating like a pig. “what do you wanna watch?” 

“you pick.” nuzzling into him even further. 

it was as if his touch could heal all. he still found himself chuckling. “you’re letting me pick? maybe i like sick y/n even more than the better one.”

you tried not to frown. “don’t be mean.”

daryl only laughed to himself, gently pressing a kiss against the frown of your head. “‘m sorry.” now you found yourself rolling your eyes. “your forehead’s still hot.” he commented, lips pressed into a thin line. “we gotta do somethin’ to bring down that temperature.”

you furrowed your brows, looking up at him with doey eyes. “how?” 

he ripped the blankets from your body.

“hey!”

main masterlist/daryl's masterlist

#daryl #daryl dixon #daryl x reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x you #daryl dixon x you #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl imagine #daryl dixon imagine #daryl drabble #daryl oneshot #daryl smut #daryl fluff #daryl angst #daryl dixon drabble #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon angst #the walking dead #twd #twd x reader #twd x y/n #twd x you #twd imagine #twd fluff #twd angst #twd oneshot #daryl the walking dead

[devnmon]

intimacy w/ daryl dixon

taking this and running with it:

885 words, a blurb that i wrote inspired by this tumblr post.

-

Daryl never wore jewelry. Like, ever. Not because he didn't like it, he would have just rather not hear backlash from his older brother and father for even thinking it looked cool.

In fact, Daryl loved all kids of jewelry. He never saw himself as an earrings kind of man, no. But a necklace or two? Even a couple of rings? He could get behind that.

He especially could if the pieces reminded him of you. After settling into Alexandria, all the chaos of uncertainty about the place, you'd found yourself in the living room of one of the neighbor's houses, tinkering with some pliers and wire. You'd created a small 'D' shape with it, paired with a loop so you could hang it around your neck with the one charm you already had.

When Daryl noticed his initial hanging around your neck, he innocently wanted to know about it, more than he thought he did. Sure, the two of you were official, you had been for what felt like months now. But the enamor inside Daryl only grew when he noticed the charm around your neck. You laid next to him in bed until his voice broke the silence.

"Is that.. my initial?" You looked down, instinctively grasping the charm in your hand and lifting it up to show him.

"Yeah, I made it. You like it?" Smiling at him, he took it in his fingers, skin brushing against the canvas of your neck.

"Yeah, I do. Can ya teach me how to make one? Wanna wear yours 'round my neck." Blushing a little, you nodded as he brought the piece of metal up to his lips, kissing it softly and letting it fall back onto your neck.

The next morning, you were sat at the kitchen table with Daryl, as he learned how to twist the wire into the shape of your initial. A careful hand helped him to hold the pliers the correct way, twisting all the ends in, as to not avoid any sharp edges.

"That looks so good, D." He smiled up at you, continuing to loop more wire around the initial of yours to create the loop that would hold it on the chain.

"Well, I learn from the best." You pushed him slightly, teasing at the fact that he teaches you how to mostly everything hunting and scavenging related.

You handed him the chain, your lovesick brain drifting off into thought as Daryl attempted to put the chain through the charm's loop. His bulky fingers gave him trouble doing so at first, but eventually the chain and charm were one.

"Not to be perverted, but you're gonna look really handsome with my initial around your neck." A twinge of blush rose on the apple of daryl's cheeks, just enough so you could see through the chestnut bangs hung over his face.

"Just like the way you look with mine 'round yours." Your hand went to the 'D' charm then, holding it in your palm with a protective instinct.

"Gosh, Daryl. I didn't know you were such a flirt." The two of you shared a smirk, knowing how Daryl usually is with choosing his words. You gushed internally at the possessiveness he had, after waiting for what felt like forever to confess his feelings to you.

You watched him pick up the chain, insisting he could put it on himself, not realizing that his big, strong hands wouldn't be accommodating to the delicate clasp of the necklace.

Daryl grunted to himself, a bit frustrated that a task this simple was harder than it looked. He wanted to prove to you that he could do it, so he hesitated in asking for your help. Though, he knew your hands were smaller than his, he just didn't want it to seem like he couldn't open the damn clasp of a necklace...

Daryl Dixon, always insisting he can do anything alone. Without help.

"Daryl I can-"

"Nah, I got it. Almost-" He grunted again, visibly frustrated this time. His arms were getting tired from holding them behind his neck to try to unclasp the necklace. He sighed in defeat as he placed his hands back on the table, still holding the piece of jewelry in his palm. You silently stood up, taking the chain from his warm grasp, moving to stand behind him.

Daryl felt your fingers brush the skin of his neck, as the chain lay against his skin now. You fumbled with the clasp a couple times before hooking it onto one of the loops of the chain.

"There." your hands rested on his shoulders, leaning down to leave a soft kiss on his collarbone. You walked around him, his hand catching your wrist and pulling you onto his lap.

You draped your arms around Daryl's neck, watching as he glanced down to see the silver chain laying perfectly against his skin.

"Thanks, sunshine." His chin tipped up to you, signaling he wanted a kiss from you. Pressing your lips together, you held the charm around his neck in your hands. You felt it added a protectiveness to his necklace and yours. These would serve to remind each of you that even when you'd be apart, you would still have each other, no matter where you were in the world.

-

a/n: likes + reblogs are appreciated!! it lets me know how much everyone enjoys my writing & sharing to others is a generous thing to do. much love & thanks :)

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfic #devnmon writes #devnmon blurbs #i had this idea since last night and i didn't want to let it die in the back of my brain so here you all go. #daryl x reader #daryl oneshot #the walking dead oneshot #daryl dixon oneshot #twd daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #twd fanfiction #daryl imagine #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n

[mushrubes]

Compass

Masterlist | The walking dead Masterlist

Requested : No

Song : Compass - The Neighbourhood

Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Afab! reader (No use of Y/n)

Pronouns : you/yours

Type : fluff

Contents : mutual pinning, slightly canon divergent, best friends + grumpy + sunshine :)

Word count : 2.8k

Have a great day / night !!

If I don't have you with me, I'm alone You know I never know which way to go

A sigh of relief left your lips as you watched the walker in front of you drop to the ground with an arrow in it's head. "C'mon, this way." he instructed, pulling you along with him. You followed the male, watching your steps and making sure to step over the roots in the ground and bodies. "I'm sorry." you grumbled, grunting to yourself as you felt like you were holding him back. Daryl was a great survivor - hell, he was the reason the pair of you were still alive since the outbreak started.

"Nothin' to be sorry for." he responded, shrugging it off as you walked through the trees, now at your temporary camp. "There you are." Carol gasped, checking you over before pulling you into a hug. "I'm okay, Daryl found me as always." you joked, seeing him frown as he knew you were trying to make light of the situation. He nodded slightly before walking back to his tent where Merle was sitting, shaking his head. "You're going soft, baby brother." he taunted, sending you a sickening smile.

"Shut up."

----

I think I need you with me for all-time When I need new direction for my mind

You sat there, bouncing your knee anxiously. Rick, Lori's supposedly 'dead' husband had shown up and helped the rest of the camp on their run. Yes, you were happy he had helped but in the process, they had left Merle on the rooftop. In the city that was currently swarmed with walkers. As expected, Daryl hadn't taken the news lightly. Even though Merle could be an absolute asshole (a massive understatement) sometimes, he was blood and the others needed to understand that.

"I'm going to talk to him." you mumbled, loud enough for at least Carol to hear over the hushed arguments between Rick and Lori. "Are you sure?" she asked, wrapping the blanket around her tightly. She knew you meant well, but when Daryl was mad, he often said stuff he didn't really mean. "I'll be fine." you assured her, letting her take a deep breath before agreeing, watching with a cautious gaze as you approached him.

"Dar?" you called as you approached him, watching him turn around with anger, his face softening when he realised it was you. "Hi." he spoke, it coming out as a whisper. You grimaced, sitting down next to him, leaving a bit of space between you. "He'll be okay. We'll go find him in the morning, Rick said he'll come." you tried to comfort, Daryl humming in response. "He's the only other family I've got." he spoke up, voice cracking slightly. There hadn't been many times where Daryl had been this vulnerable - the only other time you could think of was when you were teens and you'd seen the marks he'd received from his father. And just like then, this broke you. "Who's your other?" you asked, confused as to what he was referring to.

"You"

----

You listen to my lectures on the phone

"Absoluetly not." Daryl argued, shaking his head at your idea. You scoffed, looking at him in confusion. "Why not?!" you huffed, eyebrows furrowed as you waited for his reasoning. Last night, he had agreed to you helping them with finding Merle and now he was suddenly against it. "It's the least I could do! I can't stay in this camp." you defended, holding your head in your hands and laughing in disbelief. "Too many walkers." he spoke up, placing his bow down next to his tent. "There's walkers around us every day. What difference does this run make?" you reminded. There was not a single day where there wasn't a chance you could fall victim to the walkers - but not him.

He had sworn to himself since the news of the outbreak, he'd keep you safe. Not that he had ever told you, but he didn't care. It didn't matter if you felt the same and would do anything for him, you were his priority, and he'd do everything in his power to keep you safe. And that meant leaving you here. "I can't lose yer as well." he raised his voice, regretting it as he realised the tone it came out in. You had froze, either because of the tone or what he had said, and it killed him to not know which one. "Daryl-" you spoke up but he cut you off, getting up and making his way into his tent.

"Jus' stay here, please. G'night."

----

Breakfast was different to normal. You had been relatively quiet, the rest of the group noticing something had happened between you and him but no one dared to ask. He was more tense, a mix of fear for Merle and also because of the whole incident that had happened last night. You finished your food up while the group got ready, all piling into thie vehicles. "Daryl, hurry up." Rick warned, watching as he picked his bow up. "I'm comin'." he bit back, putting arrows back in his quiver. You looked at Carol and Lori who both gestured their headds towards him making you sigh.

"Daryl, wait." you huffed, tanding up and walking over to him. He raised an eyebrow, facing you as you stood a few steps in front. "Hm?" he grunted, you gaze glancing between him and the group waiting behind him. Emotions got the best of you, wrapping your arms around him as he tensed up, not expecting you to hug him. "Be safe." you whispered, feeling your cheeks heat up. Eventually, he wrapped his around your waist, head on yours. "I'll be back, I promise." he assured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before pulling away and giving you one last glance. As he walked away, you failed to catch a glimse of the gentle blush that had settled on his cheeks.

----

You help me find the treasure in the hole

It had been a few days since the Greene family had let you settle on the farm and Sophia had gone missing. You had all noticed the shops in town and realised the group would be needing a stock up on food soon. "Who wants to go?" Rick sighed, looking around as some of the group muttered amongst themselves. "I'll go." you offered, needing a break from the area. Once again, it had gotten a bit suffocating, tensions high amongst the group between each other and your hosts. Shane stepped forward, going to say something before Daryl cut him off. "If you go, I go." he ushed, looking at you and then at Rick who shrugged. "Okay." he smiled.

----

Handing him the hairpin you had on you, he moved it around, pulling the chains and lock once he felt it open. "Stay close." he ordered as you walked in. "If you want me near you, just say that." you teased, grinning as he rolled his eyes at your words. "Shut up." he huffed, walking along checking the shelves. Most of the shelves were empty or the food was way off, alreay rotting away. "Here." you spoke up, jogging over to the other side where a bunch of cans caught your eye.

"Holy shit." he gasped, seeing the amount you had found. It wasn't the best food, but it was enough to last you longer than you thought it would. "Let's get it back." you suggested, seeing it was starting to get dark slightly and he hummed in agreement, picking up the cans you couldn't and walking behind you, a hand on your back guiding you back to his bike.

You had put them all in the container you had brought with you, attached to the back of the bike. He sat down, waiting for you to join on. You sat behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist hesitantly. He moved them slightly, making your grip on him tighter. "If yer want me near yer, jus' say that." he mimicked, laughing as he got revenge for your antics earlier.

----

You'll tell me if I'm acting like a fool

"What're yer doin'?" Daryl questioned, turning Carol to face him with a grip on her arm, earning a glare from you. "Keeping an eye on you." She responded, looking up at him with a worried look in her eyes as you watched them interact. "Ain't you a peach." he grumbled, circling her. "Daryl." you warned, shooting Carol an apologetic look. "We're not gonna let you pull away." you huffed, knowing he was having one of his rants.

"You've earned your place." Carol commented, turning his attention back to her. "If yer spent half yer time mindin' yer daughters business instead of stickin' yer nose in everybody else's, she'd still be alive!" her raised his voice, standing right in front of her. You let out a gasp, looking at him in disbelief. You went to say something but she raised a hand, silently assuring you it was okay. "Go ahead." she egged on. "Go ahead n' what?" he asked, stepping back slightly. "Man, jus' go. I don't want you here." he bit, swinging his arm up.

You looked between them frantically, scared it was going to escalate. "You're a real piece of work, lady. What you gonna make this about my daddy or some kinda crap like that?" he continued, watching as she didn't let her emotions show. You intertwined your hand with carols, squeezing it for a second. "You know Jack. You're afraid, you're afriad 'cause you're all alone. You got no husband, no daughter. You don't know what to do with yourself." he ranted, making you have enough and try and pull her away. "Let's go." you whispered, looking at her in concern. For a split second, you were sure his face altered, seeing how much he had upset the pair of you.

"You ain't my problem. Sophia wasn't mine. All you had to do was keep an eye on her." Daryl shouted, a wince coming from Carol. A silence set over, the pair glaring at one another as her hand tightly gripped yours, now squeezing it more than ever. He looked down, guilt filling him slightly as he saw your hands connected. "Go." you ushered softly, pulling her as she looked back in concern, seeing you not follow her. "I'll be there in a bit." you assured, watching her retreat back to the house, standing on the porch just to keep a careful eye on you.

"There was no need for that." you spoke, turning back to Daryl whose expression didn't falter. "It's the truth." he murmured. You sighed and looked at him, still in disbelief. "That was her daughter. You should know how it feels." you reminded, cautiously taking a step back as you mentioned his brother, seeing him look down. "She's probably struggling to process it all. Our luck was going to run out eventually, don't blame her." you defended, Daryl not responding. You scoffed, knowing he wouldn't apologise. "Find me when you're ready to apologise. I'm starting to think you're just the same as your brother." you grumbled, walking back to the house. He stood practically glued to the spot, watching as you both disappeared into the house not sparing him a look. Now he had messed up.

----

I know that you're not something to lose, now

"Where are they?" Daryl asked Carol, riding back as he made sure to get away from the walkers that had practically taken over the farm. "I don't know. They...they were with me and we got separated." she admitted, feeling his body tense up. He continued going, his head feeling light-headed as thoughts raced through. What if you weren't safe? What if no one found you? What if you had gotten bit and either already turned or become their meal? "Don't jump to conclusions, I'm sure she's with someone. She's strong." Carol tried to convince him, as well as herself as the anxiety ate away at the pair of them.

----

"Can we just wait a little longer?" You tried to convince Hershel, not wanting to leave until you had found the others. Your group was strong, and you refused to believe that you four were the only survivors. As if on queue, you heard the familiar growl of the engine approaching, a gasp leaving your lips as the familiar bike pulled up, with the two people you were closest to. Another car pulled up behind them, more people visible followed by another vehicle. Hershel smiled, squeezing your shoulder as they all pulled up, everyone going to their people.

Carol pulled you into a quick hug before crouching down and hugging Carl. You leaned against the car, letting Rick greet Daryl before he climbed off his bike. You were caught off-guard when you felt him wrap his arms around you, holding you tightly to him. "Thought I'd lost you." he mumbled, his hands cupping your face as you rested yours on his wrists. "Not that easily, Dixon." you smiled, allowing him to press a kiss to your forehead before pulling you into him tightly. His head rested on yours, swaying you slightly as he caught Carol's eyes, who raised an eyebrow at him knowingly.

Maybe he was soft for you.

----

I've got something to confess I keep you in my pocket to use

Changing into the fresh clothes that had been put out for you, you made your way back up to the cells, taking two portions of the food that had been made and thanking Carol and Hershel. "Can you go and check on Daryl?" Carol whispered, nodding as you knew she was just slightly worried about him considering the past few days. Carefully holding the bowls, you made your way up the stairs, seeing him laying on a mattress he had dragged out onto the perch, his eyes closed.

"Hey." you smiled, holding a bowl out to him as he opened his eyes, sending you a thankful smile back. "Carol wanted me to come check on you." you informed him, sitting next to him on the mattress as he moved slightly, giving you space. "'m fine." he chuckled, shaking his head. "I know. She just cares about you. And so I." you said softly, eating your food as a comfortable silence settled.

Once you had both finished, he put his bowl on the desk, holding his hand out for yours and stacking them before returning back to his previous spot. "You sure you're okay?" you asked, earning a smile from him. He held an arm up, gesturing for you to move closer and putting it around your shoulders. "Better now." he grinned, making you huff as he chuckled, seeing the heat rush to your cheeks.

"I care about yer too." He admitted, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I mean it." he paused, when he saw you weren't convinced by him. He knew he wasn't the best at expressing things nor showing any emotions but he was sure he'd do anything for you. He opened his mouth, going to speak but getting cut off by Beth. "Sorry, uh, Lori asked for you." she informed you before heading down, over to the food. You smiled apologetically at Daryl, moving away. "I'll come back later, okay?" you commented, earning a hum from him. You pressed a kiss to his cheek before getting up and walking over to the cell she was in, his eyes not leaving you once.

----

You're my only compass

You kept your promise, returning to Daryl after you had finished with Lori, chatting about whatever came to mind until you had both given in to the much-needed sleep. Daryl was leaning against the wall, a pillow behind his back, while you were cuddled up to him in his arms, his grip firm but tight.

"Are you sure?" Glenn asked, whispering and looking back at Maggie who nodded. He pressed the button, cursing as the flash went off due to the slight lack of light in the area, waking up Daryl. "Go away." he grumbled, not opening his eyes. Glenn placed the polaroid carefully in his arms, before running back down the stairs. Daryl furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as he stretched, feeling the photo. He stared at it for a few minutes, scoffing and then smiling to himself.

"What are you smiling about?" you asked, nuzzling your head into his neck. "Nothin', just somethin' Glenn took." he shrugged going to put it down. "Show." you asked, curious as to what it was. You mirrored his smile as he showed you, seeing the photo of the pair of you in each other's embrace, sound asleep. Peaceful - something that was rare nowadays. "Get him one when I'm awake, don't keep that." you moaned, Daryl shaking his head as he grinned at you.

"Na, gonna keep this one, pretty girl." he smirked, resting his forehead against yours and his eyes darting between yours and your lips. "Kiss me." you whispered, Daryl, wasting no time in connecting his lips to yours, your stomach filling with butterflies as a spark went off. You knew, no matter what happened, you'd be safe with him and he was home.

I might get lost without you

#daryl #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl x you #daryl imagines #daryl imagine #daryl oneshot #daryl oneshots #daryl twd #daryl twd imagines #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon imagines #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl dixon oneshots #the walking dead #the walking dead ff #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead oneshots #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead x y/n #the walking dead x you #the walking dead x reader #twd fanfic #twd oneshots

[athynathens]

── : 𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅 ⟢ 

his weakness

in which the daryl dixon has a weakness of his own; it ain’t zombies or lack of food, but you. survivor! daryl dixon x survivor! you/reader

#twd daryl #the walking dead #daryl fanfiction #daryl x reader #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon #daryl x you #darylneedscarol #daryl x y/n #daryl oneshot #rick grimes #carol peletier #carl grimes #michonne #glenn rhee #maggie rhee #hershel greene #beth greene #smut #twd smut #fluff #twd fluff #romance #twd roleplay #rosita espinosa #twd abraham #daryl dixion imagine #daryl imagines

[lovesclinic]

SLEEP ┊why couldnt you sleep last night? was it because of daryl?

✧˖*°࿐ daryl dixon x fem!reader

warnings: unprotected sex, praise

“hey darlin', did you get any sleep?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

"jus' a couple hours," you muttered, burying your head in the pillow as if that could somehow keep you hidden. you felt Daryl's lips press against your head, his breath warm against your skin. "you should have woken me up,"

“did you stay up all night thinking about me?" he smirked, leaning down to kiss your neck.

as his lips trailed softly down your neck, you couldn't help but shiver slightly. "daryl," you whined, You pouted, trying to maintain an air of brattiness despite the situation.

“stop pretending y”so innocent," he muttered, chuckling softly. "you've been thinking about this all night, haven't you?" He reached between you both, grabbing the hem of your shirt and pulling it up over your head.

daryl chuckled softly against your skin, his hand trailing up your side, teasingly pinching your soft skin. "Oh, I know," he whispered, "And that's what makes it so damn hot.

"Innocent, huh?" he chuckled, his breath hot against your skin. "That's adorable. But I know you're just trying to distract me with that pout. You like it when I take control, don't you?"

“You sure you want to keep playing that card?" He asked, smirking down at you as he reached for the button of your jeans. "Because it's getting harder and harder to believe."

your face grows warm at his words.

“you're so cute when you blush." He grinned, pulling you closer against his growing arousal. "Now turn around."

You squirmed under his touch, playfully trying to wriggle out of his grasp. "Daryl, stop!" You giggled, unable to hide your arousal any longer.

Feeling his warm breath on your neck, you couldn't help but shiver in anticipation. "Fine," you pouted, turning around in his arms. "I'm not innocent."

Leaning back, he gazed down at you, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "You're not so innocent after all."

“Hey!" You protested, trying to push him away playfully. "I didn't mean it like that!" But even as you spoke, your body betrayed you; shivers running up and down your spine at his touch.

“Now that's more like it," he purred, admiring the blush that spread across your cheeks. He pulled back just enough to see your eyes before capturing your lips in a slow, deep kiss.

“Turn around," he commanded, not moving his eyes from yours. He leaned in closer, brushing a lock of hair from your face with his thumb, before capturing your lips in a deep kiss that left no room for innocence.

With a resigned sigh, you turn around slowly, feeling your heart pounding heavily in your chest. "Fine," you mumbled, bracing yourself against the counter.Daryl Dixon: His hands moved confidently over his body, his thumbs running along the sides of your hips.

With a resigned sigh, you turn around slowly, feeling your heart pounding heavily in your chest. "Fine," you mumbled, bracing yourself against the counter.Daryl Dixon: His hands moved confidently over his body, his thumbs running along the sides of your hips.

As the kiss deepened, his tongue slid past your lips, exploring your mouth. His hands squeezed gently on your ass, pushing him against you.

You moaned into the kiss, your innocence melting away under his skilled touch. As you began to respond passionately, he picked you up, carrying you to his bedroom.

Pushing you back onto the bed, he trailed a line of kisses from your collarbone down to your chest, causing you to squirm under this new intensity. "Daryl," you whined again, but you weren't really complaining, "I'm still innocent,"

"You're so fucking cute when you say that," he growled, his fingers slipping beneath your panties, finding the aching bundle of nerves hidden there, and rubbing it softly. "

"Innocent my ass." He chuckled in between kisses, his hands exploring your body with reckless abandon. He didn't care how long it took to break you in - he would take as much time as he needed. Tonight, you were all his.

Daryl was in no rush, taking his time to explore your body, taking pleasure in every new experience he shared with you. You made so many sounds of pleasure, grunts and moans, whimpers and pants, it made him even harder.

You were tense, but eager for him. As he pressed against you, you bit your bottom lip, holding your breath. "Breathe, baby," he whispered, his hands coming to rest on your thighs as he slowly pushed inside.

A soft gasp escaped your lips as he finally penetrated you. The sensation was both foreign and incredibly arousing. He began to move slowly, feeling every inch of you tighten around him.

“you’re so fuckin’ tight f’me, good fuckin girl.”

He inched deeper, feeling the heat of your body around him. He groaned softly, leaning down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss as he slowly filled you up.

“Oh, fuck," he groaned, his eyes locked on yours as he slowly began to thrust into you. You were tight, but he didn't mind; in fact, it only made him harder. He took his time, trying to make it as good for you as possible.

"That's it," he encouraged, kissing your cheek. "Just take it slow and let me inside." He began to move, slowly rocking his hips, and soon you felt his thick shaft filling you, stretching you

You were his, now. He was determined to make you his in every way possible. His hands roamed up your body, finding your nipples and teasing them into hard peaks. His hips began to pick up pace, grinding against your core.

As the pleasure built within you, your body began to respond more eagerly. You wrapped your legs around his waist, holding him close, urging him on. Your nails raked lightly over his back, leaving shivers down his spine.

“You feel s’ good," he muttered, kissing your neck. His thrusts were deep and hard now, driving you both towards the edge of release. You moaned and arched your back, meeting his every movement.

His lips found your neck, teeth gently scraping as he continued to thrust. "God, you feel so good," he groaned into your skin. You could feel him getting closer, his hips moving faster, harder.

“More," you panted, arching your back as he hit a sensitive spot inside you. He growled in response, thrusting harder and faster, losing himself in the sensation of your body moving beneath him.

Daryl was thrusting harder now, his movements losing some of their carefulness as his desire for you grew. He leaned down, his face close to yours.

You were in a mix of pain and pleasure, moaning as he went deeper. You wrapped your legs around him, holding onto him tightly. It felt so good, and yet it hurt so much. You bit your lip, trying to stifle your cries of pleasure.

With his free hand, Daryl reached up to cup your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers as he continued to move in and out of you. You whimpered, arching your back to get closer to his touch.

His thrusts grew harder, faster, matching the intensity of your moans and gasps. Their bodies slapped together, creating a primal symphony of desire and need.

Your nails dug into his shoulders, and you moaned his name, urging him to go faster. He complied, picking up the pace, grunting against your neck as he claimed you as his own.

“That's it, baby," he whispered, kissing your neck. "Let me have you." He picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming more forceful as he lost control.

“Daryl... oh god..." You were on the brink, about to give in to the pleasure he was giving you.

His climax hit him suddenly, his hips jerking forward as he buried himself deep inside you. He growled low in his throat, his fingers digging into your hips as he released himself into you. You could feel him throbbing as he came, filling you with his seed.

“Cum for me, baby," he growled, his hand leaving your breast to grasp your hip as he plunged deeper inside you. And as you did, you cried out his name, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm.

Your moans filled the air as he claimed you completely. You wrapped your legs tighter around him, urging him on, meeting his forceful thrusts with equal passion.

Daryl could feel your tightening walls milking his cock as he pulled out, then thrust back in deep, over and over again. He groaned, eyes closed, his hips moving powerfully, taking what he needed from you.

As he panted heavily, Daryl pulled out of you, leaving you feeling empty but still incredibly sensitive. He leaned down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. "Are you okay, baby?"

you lazily nodded your head in response, a blissed out smile on your face.

Daryl cuddled closer to you, feeling the warmth of your body against his. He smiled, running a gentle finger along your jawline. "I've wanted to do this for so long," he admitted softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "

You were always so strong, so independent. I didn't want to mess things up between us." You turned to look at him, a curious expression on your face. "But now... I don't think I can ever go back to just being friends." He held his breath, waiting for your response.

“I got you," he said, his voice husky. He scooped you up into his arms, carrying you to the bed where he gently laid you down. Then, he crawled in beside you, spooning you from behind, his arms wrapping protectively around your waist.

#daryl dixion x reader #writers on tumblr #daryl x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead #twd smut #twd daryl #oneshot #writerscommunity #smut

[starshipsofstarlord]

“thought you were mad at me.”

“it’s a hate boner, i swear.”

summary. you and daryl, despite fighting and surviving side by side for years, have always had a tendency to get on each others nerves. the one thing he hates more than your recklessness however, is seeing you hurt

warnings. boners duh, swearing, mentions of death and turning, daryl skinning an animal, feelings, daryl being a boob man, no smut, slight angst, love confessions, implied smut

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

divider credits. @cafekitsune

There were many possible things that you could do to enrage Daryl Dixon; you’d been comrades for many years and it would have been suspicious if the two of you hadn’t found a way to flawlessly get on each others nerves.

Currently you were seated in your station of living, ass planted on a kitchen chair as you endured silent treatment from the archer whom was skilfully removing the outer layer of flesh and fur from a lifeless badger.

Your arms crossed upon the aged oak of the table as you silently criticised the lack of noise - the air was tense and riddled with thick annoyance, it was difficult to breathe through. To Daryl’s dismay, your fingernails danced in an attempted rhythm upon the surface of which that were layer atop of, creating a chorus of taps that were audible within the quiet room.

The sound filled his ear drums, and his attention drew away from the black and white striped creature that was in the process of having its fur stripped from its lifeless flesh upon the counter, and he irritatedly gritted his bottom row of teeth. He was becoming tired of your reckless habits, and the fact that you cared not for making one sorry mistake that would risk your life.

Despite the countless chances that he had had, he’d never told you of the feelings that he quietly harboured towards you, he kept them locked away from your knowledge, afraid that if he were to open up, he would only lose you, or that you would reject him for his deep infatuation. And that scenario was already on the verge of taking place, you’d been foolish, and luckily escaped with only scrapes and a few bruises.

But he was angry at your carelessness, it was as though you didn’t care whether you continued to live or died. His knife slipped across the badger’s skin, creating a thin red line through the mammal’s corpse as he stared down at it, hoping the morbid sight would distract him, though the sight didn’t sway him from being mildly aware of your presence.

Each fibre of his body was tense, he knew that you were hurt, somewhere on your body that he wasn’t certain of, but you hid the destination, which only brewed furthermore worry in his heart and chest. What if you were bitten? That would be something that he would never forgive himself for, that he hadn’t been there to protect you from the most gruesome process that a human could experience.

You would either turn into a cannibalistic monster that had an imperishable thirst for anything that breathed, or you would need a deadly pressure to your brain to prevent the walker transformation from completing itself in the vessel of your body.

It was an incurable disease, and you were all infected one way or another, but the bite would only enforce the burden of becoming one of them to a faster process. Daryl’s brain was haywire with emotions, his hand forced a tighter grasp around the knife, until he released it from his grip, placing it beside the spoils of his hunt.

He whipped around, glaring at you as you seemed undisturbed by the catastrophic ramblings that his brain was swirling in by its lonesome. Your brow arched in contempt, as you hid a smirk as you had seemed to make a crack in his brooding. But instead of his silence, there was a riddle of careful treading in his determined steps that slowly but intently made their route towards you.

Instead of being flabbergastered by his sudden change in exterior motives, you remained exactly where you were, fearless of the concoction of emotions that were emitting upon his face. Your hands continued their dance, precipitating farther exasperation to coil around the stealthy archer.

“Show me.” Daryl’s tone was brisk and harsh as they fell efficiently from his lips, and you ogled at them discreetly, employing the thought of them upon your own in your imagination. With a toying smile sprawled upon your lips, you cocked your head in query, stepping up onto your feet, allowing the entirety of your weight to fall upon them.

“Show you what? How to speak to a woman, because your tactics really aren’t working Dixon?” Not everything was a joke, this was a serious situation to him, yet you could not fathom that! Your words only made him enraged with your lacking will to look after yourself. It befuddled each cell in his body to think with common sense that you had managed to live this long, but he threw that building monologue away and as far as possible from flowing off his tongue.

He cared and that was all he wanted to show you, but it was impossible when you were so… impossible yourself! “The wound y/n. I swear ta god you better not be hidin’ a bite.” The hissing undertone of Daryl’s voice shocked you, whilst during past events he had made comments of his distaste for your methods of ‘getting things done’, he had never called you out so directly.

A pang in your chest told you how much you resented him using that tone to address you, but you shook it off, understanding that he presumed that you were destined sooner rather than later to meet a set fate. “Never took you for a religious man Daryl.” You gulped in your efforts to smother your blossoming timidness, hunching your shoulders as you pushed down on your confidence to make eye contact with the man. “And I’m not bitten,” you huffed, refraining from rolling your eyes, “I can prove it to you if you want.”

“Yeah, I do wan’ tha’.” He sternly replied, and all of a sudden you felt vulnerable. You rubbed your lips together anxiously, before reaching down and bringing your hands to the end of your shirt, beginning to peel it over your head, throwing the material that now hid little from sight on the table. In the moment you felt no regret for opting to wear a bra, but you still felt the need to surround your arms around your chest, which only drew more attention to your breasts.

You craned your neck, gouging his reaction as you turned to angle your ribs to his eye-line, the prominent flush of pink and purple bruising painting your side in a tie dye artwork effect. His lips parted, as his baby blues turned their focus from their rude excavation of your subtle cleavage to your side, his pupils wildly darting around the area with both relief and disdain.

“Ah, shit.” He rubbed his face with his large palm, as he realised that another part of his body continued to be distracted by his the other parts of your body that were teasing him with their supple beauty. “We should see if there’s any ice in the infirmary.” He stated, awkwardly feeling encased in the roomy kitchen. “I’m sorry, didn’ mean to make ya feel like ya had to show me.”

He felt stupid. So fucking stupid. Whilst he was never brought up in that way, he always tried to be respectful towards women, and he respected you more than most general people. If he were to voice his certain love of you now, or any when after this situation, he would look like an utter idiot.

“It’s okay.” Your voice sounded smaller now, and hated that he was the one that had burst your bubble of troublesome words. “I understand, enough of us are no longer here. You needed to make sure, and I appreciate that Dar.” You bowed your head, and luckily you were looking at your own feet, Daryl thought, as he felt compressed in his pants.

“I’ll go get ya some ice, and some pain killers.” Daryl was prepared to rush off, but as he was about to brush past you to do the errands to treat you that he had just listed, your arm swung, as your hand caught ahold of his wrist, dragging him into your personal space. On any other heart warming situation he wouldn’t have minded, you’d hugged before during hard times, but not when he had a… problem.

Instantly your y/e/c eyes shot in the direction of his face that was blooming into the shade of a beetroot. You had realised, you couldn’t not have. “Thought you were mad at me.” You teased, and Daryl felt the remainder of his body grow stiff as he released you. He would never live this down, you would never let him forget this.

“It’s a hate boner, I swear.” He attempted to save himself from your prodding smugness, however he knew all too well that was a losing battle. Your face returned to its coy assertion, aiming your mischievous smirk towards him - his erect cock was your fault, that was obvious. And you had been on a road too long without even hinting that you felt something more than seeing him as found family.

To once have thought you deserved happiness would have sounded like a sickening joke, and you would have maniacally laughed at the delirious prospect, but your hue of vibrant damage from the impact that had clashed with your side, and Daryl’s morbid assumption had reminded you that life was truly too short to waste any scrap of time.

“If you forget about the ice,” you deflected from the ache that pinched your bloodstream, “then maybe you can forget about that badger on the side too and prove that you’re not breaking a swear. What goods a ‘hate boner’ if you don’t get to prove how much you allegedly hate me?”

“Could never hate ya.” Daryl leant down and placed a peck upon your forehead, as his hand ghosted against your cheek, brushing your bottom lip with his rough padded thumb. “Now settle down, ya need some pain killers woman, I ain’t playing games no more. I ain’t lettin’ ya pretend you’re fine, can see you’re not.” He glanced down at the large bruise once again and physically winced; he knew you were in pain, anybody would be with such an infliction of harsh force.

“Then how about we stop this game for once and for all?” You weren’t sure if your words were for him or you, but nevertheless you drew your faces closer, allowing the tips of your noses to brush. “I’ve loved you since- I can’t even remember when I realised it, it just happened. And from then on, it’s something I can’t shake, and I don’t want to.” You confessed open heartedly, putting the secrecy that you had hidden for so long on the table.

Daryl felt his heart jump out of his chest, sure you’d make some infectiously teasing remarks at his expense, but he never thought that a woman like you would have the desire to be with a redneck tracker who had been born into a life that already had its share of issues. “I-“ Daryl took a deep breath that filled his wide chest, as he realised that this was the moment that he felt as though he had waited eons for. “I love ya, have done since the first time I saw ya. Couldn’ get ya outta my mind, jus’ wasn’t sure that someone like you could ever love someone like me…”

“Trust me Daryl, you can be more sure about it than your hate boner.” A laugh tumbled from your lips, and whilst Daryl adored the sound more than the tapping that your fingers had done on the table, he decided to shut you up. With his hand on finding purchase finally on your cheek, he pulled you in, meeting your lips as your mouths melted together, his opposing hand hovering over your extreme bruising as though he could protect it from the air itself.

The kiss was filled with each memory he held of you, each flashed like a tribute in his mind behind his closed eyes, as he finally felt shockwaves of passion flow between you. It was the best thing that he had experienced since the outbreak had began, and each moment of turmoil and agitation was worth it. He was finally home, with you, the person who accepted him wholeheartedly.

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