#Daryl x male reader

[ghost-wysteria]

Since im sick have an incorrect quote.

*The group getting in a car*

Rick: im driving.

Y/n: shotgun!

Carl: awww but babe you had it last ti-

Everyone except y/n: *gasps*

Y/n: *holding a shotgun* no i found a shotgun! Also i want the frontseat!🤠

Daryl in the background: thats my boy!

[whackk-kermitt]

Genre: Just some innocent Headcanons

Warnings: None

Pronouns: GN!

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵

Daryl Dixon was the first to fall, but you have to be the one to make the first move.

Before they lost Merle, that fucker would tease the hell out of Daryl anytime he saw his little brother glance in your direction.

Let's face it, Merle was a little jealous that you seem to take more interest in Daryl them him.

Daryl being the pushover he was when it came to Merle, pushed you away when he realized Merle was upset about it.

Last thing he wanted was a little crush making his life harder!

But after they found themselves at the farm, and Daryl was away from Merle’s toxic influence he was able to open up a bit about how he really felt.

Don't let that fool you, his lips were sealed!

He did not say anything about thinking you were cute or nothing!

He just stopped telling you to fuck off every time you came up for a chat.

He didn't know why you kept coming around when he had been an asshole so many times.

He figured it was because your choices for companionship was limited.

He wasn't complaining.

When he got hurt while out looking for Sofia, he'd never admit it, but he thought for a moment that he was going to die, and that fear made him think of you.

Who would look after you when he was gone?

Sure he never went out of his way to ask you how you were or if you needed anything, but he did look after you!

He’d take note of which meats were your favorites and how you liked them cooked, and he'd do what he could to make sure the food was good so you'd eat.

He would always look you over after walkers are dealt with, even if you were nowhere near it!

He just had to make sure.

Daryl would prefer to wait for you to go to sleep before he did.

He had to know where you were at all times, never asking anyone but always looking around for you.

What he didn't know, is that you noticed these things, and that's why you kept coming back.

When the farm fell, he refused to think about you while him and Carol slowly made their way back to the highway.

Worrying about you would throw him off, the man needed to focus.

How was he supposed to keep him and Carol alive if he was busy crying over you?

But the release of pressure in his chest when he saw you standing there made him realizes just how whipped he was.

Still never said anything or let his eyes linger to long.

It was in the road(Before the prison) that you cornered him.

You were all hold up in a house. Daryl was taking watch at the front door while the rest if the gang slept upstairs.

You were supposed to be sleeping, but your mind wouldn't shut up.

He definitely didn't smile a little when he recognized the sound of your feet coming down the stairs.

He didn't let his eyes wonder at you when you came to stand by him at the boarded up window.

And he most definitely didn't blush as dark as a strawberry when he felt you wiggle under his arms and press into his side.

He just let you rest in his arms until you started to get sleepy, and without having to say anything he lead you to the couch and let you rest your head in his lap while he tried not to squirm.

But he did vow to let you hold him as much as you wanted from then on.

He was after all touch starved and became very clingy after you gave him a taste of genuine affection.

That was fun! Part 2 maybe..? 🫣

•Kermitt’s Masterlist•

[shok-oy]

november. 06, 2024

twd characters x male reader. headcanons

✒️ ... prompt : their love language/s pt. 1

[ alexandria editon ]

rick grimes

- acts of service & physical touch

the man is always exhausted after a day's worth of putting out fires around the community, solving everyone's problems little by little, and slowly shaping the people of alexandria into a strong community. all he wants to do after a long day is rest, usually on the couch. that's where you come in; help him out of his boots, give him a nice pillow to rest his head on, he'll lay on your lap later and let you feed him. sometimes he'll talk; complain about how his day went, sometimes he'll just be quiet, enjoying your presence. if you run your fingers through his hair or massage his chest, watch as he just melts away, he becomes absolute putty in your hands.

carl grimes

- quality time

ever since the group arrived in alexandria, carl was sort of... left to his own devices. you and him both. while his father encouraged everyone to explore, meet the members of alexandria, you and carl would often sneak out past the wall and venture into the forest where you two would stay until the sun begins to set, reading comics from cover to cover, twice. carl often enjoys the silence, choosing to simply bask in your presence, but he wouldn't mind if you yapped his ear off. he just likes spending time with you, knowing that you were safe and happy and the two of you could just be happy together.

glenn rhee

- gift giving & words of affirmation

glenn knows what you like; even if you had only mentioned it once a long time ago, glenn would remember it for years to come. everytime he'd go out on a run, he always made sure to bring back something for you; a trinket, an accessory, anything that reminded him of you. "i thought you'd like it." is what glenn would always say. he was always right. glenn is an optimist through and through,but there are times when he'd think negative thoughts, wondering what could go wrong, pondering on people who could get hurt, and whatnot, but he always bounces back easily as soon as you talk to him. you're the person he trusts most in the world, and if you tell him things will be alright, that he's the strongest man you know, he'll believe you.

daryl dixon

- quality time

daryl isn't very expressive or clingy, but of all things, he enjoys the time he spends alone with you. just knowing that you're by his side, you have his back and he has yours, is enough for him. he enjoys a quiet stroll through the forest or a ride on his motorbike with no particular destination in mind, just you and him on his bike on the open road is enough to fulfill him.

abraham ford

- physical touch

abraham can easily go off the rails, lashing out on everyone around him when he's pissed off, but one touch from you, and he's like a tamed dog. a good slap to the face from you easily snaps him out it (if someone else would do this, he'd get even more pissed off). he likes holding you in his arms, and he absolutely adores it when you're just drawing invisible patterns on his skin with your fingertips. he likes having you close, always having an arm around your shoulders or your waist, and he would absolutely adore it if you lean your head on his chest or on his shoulder; it makes him feel powerful, and needed.

ron anderson

- quality time & words of affirmation

ron hasn't had it easy. his father was an asshole to him, his brother, and his mother, but he couldn't do anything about it. what was a kid like him supposed to do against his father? thankfully, your untimely arrival on alexandria brought him a sense of comfort. he doesn't like staying at his house, it wasn't a home, but for him, you were his home. hearing reassuring words from you was enough to keep him going, but he kept his father's abuses from you for as long as he could. but when you found out, you gave him a piece of your mind, and when you tried to do the same to his father, ron stopped you. he feared his father would take him from you, so he would endure... just for you.

heath

- acts of service

heath likes to do things for you, he always tries goes above and beyond. the apocalypse may have limited how he showed his love and adoration for you, but trust me, heath would find a way. but heath always seems to malfunction when you're the one doing things for him. volunteering to drive, or to stay up for night watch, or carrying his heavy bag... sometimes, heath would pretend to struggle when carrying his things just so you would come over and help him. he would always enjoy the sight of you walking away with a heavy bag on your back while carrying two heavy boxes of supplies without so much as breaking a sweat.

aaron

- physical touch

aaron likes to stay close to you at all times. when out looking for survivors to bring back to alexandria, there was always danger lurking around in every corner. aaron would never admit it, but whenever he's scared, he likes to hold your hand. he says he does it so you two don't get separated... but then again, that is his biggest fear; getting separated from you forever. he's big on kisses too; and he absolutely loves it when you hold his face with your hands and plant kisses all over his face, especially after you shave his beard for him.

~ shokoy ☆

[woeswrites]

Yandere Daryl Dixon

Warnings: Yandere themes, Obsessive behaviors, Nonconsensual kissing, etc.

At first Daryl's feelings for you were completely normal

If anything they were a little childish

It played out like something from elementary school

He was a little standoffish/aggressive towards you

Always taking a jab when he could at anything he could think of

Liking to set you off and see you try and fire something back only for it to never really land

"You shouldn't talk so much. You'd contribute a lot more around here if you just shut it you know?"

"I don't remember asking for advice Daryl..."

You were convinced you had done something to tick the hunter off

In reality, he was confused about the weird feeling being around you gave him

He felt sick to his stomach

Not in a throwing up sort of way... but it was something he couldn't ignore no matter how hard he tried

He found himself staring at you whenever you were around

He even picked up on your small mannerisms, taking a mental note whenever he saw one in action

He found them kind of cute?

Like whenever you knitted your eyebrows after losing a game of cards

Or when you scrunched your nose after having seen the daily hunt he'd just picked up

OR the way your mouth quirked up a little to the right whenever you successfully landed a shot

ORRR--

He could go on and on

He had never paid this much attention to anyone before

It was freaking him out just how much time you had started taking up in his life

He tried to get you off his mind

He'd never needed someone before and god be damned if he would need someone now

Or at least that's what he tried telling himself

Every time he saw a duck he definitely didn't spend extra time hunting to snag it

How would he have known you had an affinity for poultry?

It was just a coincidence that he found them on his way back

You'd also been the only one he deemed fit to learn how to use his crossbow

Not because he liked you

No, you just sucked at using a rifle

He had to give you some survival skills

What started out as a normal (albeit unwanted) crush developed into something completely different after that day

You'd gone out with Glenn and Maggie, something about picking up baby formula for Rick's kid

He wasn't too worried about it

Glenn knew what he was doing, so did Maggie, you were just there for some extra hands and in emergencies a little bit of added strength

That's what Daryl tried telling himself

That was until the three of you never turned back up

They had all waited and waited and still there was no sign of you

Soon a stranger showed up in your place

She had with her baby formula

Daryl could tell something was wrong

He immediately took her inside the gates of the jail, demanding to know if she had any idea of what happened

Michonne was her name

She didn't speak much but she said enough

She mentioned an Asian with his brunette girlfriend and an accompanying guy with a few arrows on his back

They had all been taken by some guy

Daryl felt his heart drop

He had no idea if you were okay or not

He felt like apart of himself had been ripped away from him at the idea of not knowing if he would ever see you again

He couldn't lose you, he had already lost so much

Once he got you back he was going to make sure you knew how much you actually meant to him and keep you safe

He would be insistent that the group went out as soon as possible, not resting easy until they found the group safe and sound

Along with Michonne, Rick, and Oscar, Daryl managed to find the place you were being held captive

They sneak throughout the town despite Daryl wanting to just blast his way through to you

Despite some hiccups he managed to make it to you and before anything else, gave you a big hug

You cough hard when he crashed into you but Daryl didn't let go, he was too caught up in finally getting to know you were okay

As soon as he realized they didn't have much time he quickly began to remove your restraints

He smiled after you thanked him, forgetting for a moment the kind of situation you were in just from being able to hear your pretty voice

He quickly recuperated and demanded that him and the rest of the group attack those who dared mess with them

Both Rick and Glenn objected, there were too many of them to ensure a win

Despite his aggravation Daryl conceded with them

When Glenn told him about his brother he couldn't even find it in himself to care

If he had the nerve to take you away from him he wasn't worth it

In fact, Daryl swore to himself that if he ever saw the man again he would kill him himself

With little issue you were swiftly brought back to camp alongside the rest of the crew

Daryl took you into his cell and began to bandage you up as the rest of them settled down

"Wouldn't it be better if Hershel took care of this?"

"I can't have that, I just got you back I'm not handing you off already"

His behavior was odd but you chalked it up to the stress of the whole situation

That was until it never seemed to stop

No matter where you went or what you went to do Daryl accompanied you

At first you fought back

...that didn't last long

"Do I look like I'm taking no for an answer Y/n?"

Not only did you have to spend all day with him

At night he would confine you to his cell with him

It started off decently enough, Daryl having asked if you could room with him for the night and offering to take the floor

"I just want some company. I was so worried about you, y'know?"

It then developed further

You would spend every night together and slowly but surely he worked his way into the bed beside you

At night you would be locked in place by Daryl's solid arms

Even while sleeping he seemed to have this need to protect you

He also began to isolate you after finding out Andrea was apart of Woodbury

"If she could do this to you, then why wouldn't anyone here? Just stay with me, I'll keep you safe"

Daryl only trusted Carol coming around you and even that was scarce

For the most part it was just you and him, either in his cell or out in the woods as he started dragging you out with him on his hunts to keep a better eye on you

Somewhere along the line this new routine for him started to make him a little delusional

Without having even brought it up to you Daryl began to go around telling everyone how you were his and it was only right for two boyfriends to spend time together

When you had heard you tried laughing it off but Daryl would have none of that

He helped assure you he was not joking by pinning you against the bed one night

"You're mine, you get that? I'm not letting you go, not again"

Before you could say or do anything he roughly kissed you, showing you just how serious he was being

That pretty much sealed the deal

After that he became a lot more open with yours and his "relationship" not feeling shy to show his ownership in front of the others (if they ever even saw you that is)

You were never getting out of this man's sight

The world had become far too dangerous and you were far too special to him

No walker or human would step between the two of you

Not ever

[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

[pretentiousgayguyidk]

~Flowers For You~

(Name) huffed, pacing around camp and running his fingers through his hair stressfully. He had been doing this for the past hour. It was getting late, although his watch was probably off, it didn't make it any better. 8:23 it read.

"Son? Why don't you take a seat, you- you're wearing yourself thin with all this- pacing!" The elderly man fretted, waving his hands around as he called out to the stressed man. (Name) sighed, his brows pinched with worry and his hair in disarray from him messing with it. He turned to Dale, crossing his arms and hugging himself.

"He should have been back by now, Dale! What if something happened? We all know Shane and Rick ain't gonna look for him... And nobody's gonna let me go after him..." He trailed off, swallowing hard as more nasty images of what could have happened out there. Dale nodded a little in understanding, stepping a little closer to his younger companion.

"Look, it'll all be okay. I- Daryl is tough, he can handle himself. Probably just found something and got caught up." The elder man reassured, gently patting (Name) on the shoulder. (Name) hugged himself tighter, knawing at his lip.

"He took a horse. There's no way he would have been out this long... Even if he got caught up- or found something he would have been back by now. I mean, Rick and Shane got back hours ago! All of the groups got back hours ago." He ranted, throwing his hands every which-a-way. Distress was practically oozing from every pore on the man's body.

"Walker. Walker!" Andrea cried out from the RV. Rick ran out of his tent looking up at Andrea with concern. (Name) felt his stomach drop a little, he clutched onto his biceps harder.

"Dale, binoculars." He demanded, a bad feeling settling into his stomach. The older man nodded, handing the object over.

"Is it just the one?" He asked, she nodded and aimed her rifle. (Name) raised the binoculars, trying to see the walker through the glare. He could barely see it, there's no way Andrea could hit it from here.

"I think I can nail it from here!" She shouted, cocking her gun. Rick raised his hand as Shane and the others grabbed their weapons. (Name) sighed, pulling out his knife and running with the other's as Rick shouted something about Hershel wanting to deal with it.

Now (Name) was cursing himself for being a lazy shut in, his legs ached and his lungs burned as he ran. He wasn't the most physically inclined, usually staying back with the women and kids to watch over the farm instead of searching. He leaned against his knees, wheezing a little as he caught his breath.

Fear struck him harder than lightning. The very man he was fretting over was standing before him. Drenched in blood, limping, ears strung around his neck.

"Is that Daryl?" Glen whispered, everyone stood on silent fear as Daryl swayed.

"That's the third time you pointed that thing at my head! You gonna pull the trigger or what?" Everyone sighed with relief when the redneck spoke. (Name) stepped a little closer and opened his mouth to say something. The loud crack of Andrea's rifle echoed throughout the fields as blood splaters, Daryl fell to the ground.

"Daryl!?" (Name) screamed, falling down to the arbalist's side and gently turning his head. The bullet grazed him. His ears rang as the shot echoed through his head, he watched in a daze as the others lifted his close friend who had fallen unconscious.

"He lost a good amount of blood, probably needs at least one transfusion. Do any of you know his blood type?" Hershel asked, looking between (Name), Shane, and Rick. They all shake their heads.

"No... But you can still take mine." (Name) stated, stepping forward with his arm held out. Hershel and the others were about to object. "My blood types O-."

"Well. That makes this a whole lot easier. Better hope that you don't ever need a transfusion yourself." The old man stated, cleaning off a needle and carefully inserting it into the young man's arm, carefully drawing the blood. The young man winced, looking the other way - glancing down at Daryl, who was still unconscious. (Name) gave the unconscious man a weak smile, silently thanking his mostly safe return.

After the one transfusion along with several stitches, Daryl was mostly okay, aside from a slight concussion. If it weren't for the bolt he probably would have been up and about by now. Yet (Name) wasn't one to complain, just glad his hillbilly friend was okay.

It took Rick and Shane shooing him away before he left Daryl's side, even after that Daryl never strayed to far from his mind. With a stressed sigh (Name) finds himself walking along the forest line, as he walks he freezes. Within the forest he can hear raspy growling of a hungry Walker. He shakily pulls out his knife and inches closer to the sound.

A women, crushed under a mossy log lay there, clawing and scraping at the dirt and air. A few feet to her left were the sprouts of delicate buds of dark maroon roses. (Name) smile a little, carefully stepping closer without getting grabbed to pluck the fullest bud. It wasn't in full bloom but it was deffinatly close, any other occasion he would have let it grow more - but with the recent incident he couldn't help but pluck it.

He gently cradled the flower as he plunged his knife into the walkers skull, finally putting the gardener to rest.

With a soft smile playing on his lips (Name) happily made his way home, tying up his (light/dark) hair. It had gotten so long already, Carol had given him a hair tie to help.

"Dale? You got anything I could use as like... A vase?" The younger man questioned, peaking into the camper. Dale blinked a little, then turning and somewhat speratically looking around. He eventually settled in opening a cabinet and handing (Name) a cup.

"Here you go son, you giving it to someone?" The elder asked, gesturing to the flower. (Name) nodded slowly, looking vaguely in the direction of Hershel's house. The young man clearly had someone in mind... And Dale caught on quick, smiling at the young adult. "Go ahead and give it to him, I'll uh... Distract Shane and Rick if I have to."

"Thank you Dale," the young man says, smiling lopsidedly with a new pep in his step - his heart no longer as heavy as he holds the budding rose in the cup close to his chest.

He sneaks his way into the house with the help of Maggie, the younger woman distracting her dad a little as (Name) slipped into the guest room... Surprised to see Daryl awake.

"Hell d'you want..." the arbalist grumbles. (Name) smiles sheepishly, gently setting the flower aside... It wasn't much, but it was something.

"I just... Wanted to check up on you, you feeling alright? Well... As alright as you can." He says with a soft chuckle, which inturn made Daryl grunt in his lazy laugh manner.

"About as fine and dandy as I can... Whatever, I found a lead on the little girl - that's all that matters 'round here." He says, grunting as he tries to sit up a little - some of the scarring on his chest and back catching (Name)'s eye... Though he didn't question it.

"A lead?" He asks, sitting at the side of the bed - which Daryl accepted surprisingly enough. The messy archer grunted a little, his usual lazy reply to any conversation.

"Found her doll, she could'a gone to the little neighborhood or somethin'." He says, pulling the doll out of his waistband - shaking it slightly to emphasize what he said. (Name) nods, gently placing his hand over Daryl's - a subconscious gesture that almost got him slapped away... Key word almost.

"You did good on her today, ain't no one gonna give you shit... If they try I'll knock their teeth out." He says in a light hearted way, knowing that Daryl isn't one for sentimentals... (Name) didn't mind finding round about ways to talk about it.

"Yeah yeah... Whatever, thanks for the flower..." Daryl grumbles, sounding annoyed but (Name) knew Daryl was grateful... And (Name) does something surprising... He kisses Daryl's temple, that is before standing up and turning to walk away.

"Get some rest..." He whispers, leaving before the slightly flustered and confused redneck could respond... "The hell was that?"

[darylsfavoriteboy]

Obsession

male reader, no use of y/n

you were sitting on a bench in alexandria, looking around for someone to talk to, you were extremely lonely just like everyone else around here. your eyes eventually land on daryl, you two weren't very close hes very cautious and cold which is actually something you admire about him. you step over to him and you take a seat next to him with no warning he looks at you with a obviously confused expression.

"hey." you say to the hunter with a small smile just to show your friendly and he replies back with a gruff tone "what'r ya so happy for?" you give him a small confused look "can i not be happy? jeez." and then daryl kind of realizes he fucked up "i just mean theres not much exciting things 'round here in this world." he says avoiding eye contact.

you two sat on that bench for hours just talking and it took you awhile to get him to barely even open up but once he did you were overjoyed he barely even talks. you yapped about your interests and he say there and listened to every word. then it started to get dark and you leave to go home and thats where is starts, daryls obsession.

from the day on he followed you, kept notes of the things you like, things you dont like, people you dont like, your friends, your interests, everything.

you were outside and daryl admired you from afar, daryl has never been this more obsessed with someone as much as you, you were the most handsome boy in his eyes.

he was standing by a tree sharpening a knife that he held in his calloused hands. he glanced up and noticed you approaching him and his heart was beating fast. you easily start a conversation with him and he was trying not to say anything weird.

that night, you and daryl are eating dinner together and you just chat about life, its good to have someone to just talk to about anything and everything. he couldn't stop looking at you.

a few months after you guys became close you caught feelings and you thought he would never like you, hes not gay right? hes a redneck after all.

you kept your feelings inside until you couldn't take it anymore and blurted out how much you liked him and how you know he doesn't feel the same, but he does.

after that you and daryl had a talk about labeling and what you guys are "well i dont really like using labels," daryl says and he glances at you waiting for you to respond "i just, i want to be more than friends, its okay if not-" you respond avoiding eye contact with daryl "i would like that," daryl finally admits.

2 years later you are daryl are still together happy and healthy, he loves you dearly and you love him just as much.

[gwiyeounsonyeon]

L,Q,R,U

Bottom ghost, soap, John price and Daryl dixon

🙏

if you didn't want all of them to bottom in this one just send in another ask...

I'm not entirely sure how to write price as a bottom, I'm sorry.

-Bottom Ghost-

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Most likely in a secure place; Bedrooms, at a base, or a safe house.

I can't really see him as much of an exhibitionist

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

unless you initiated it or did something to initiate it it's not gonna happen very often.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

absolutely not. he takes enough risks in his daily life when he's alone with you he just wants to relax. its a little difficult to get him to try something new but if you're 100% sure he's gonna like it he'll trust you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

A LOT. he'll tease you about how thorough you're being, saying stuff like "I'm a big man I can take it" or "I'm not a doll". he thinks you not wanting to hurt him or make him uncomfortable is funny but we all know that deep down he lives for it.

-Bottom Soap-

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

In my opinion when soap bottoms he'll become a little more self-conscious, if you convince him to fuck somewhere out of one of your guyses bedrooms he's got to be entirely sure that no one is going to see him in that state when it comes down to it he wouldn't want you to fuck around, he'd be too nervous to let you draw it out.

he'd be fine with confined spaces or rooms with a door, preferably one that locks.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he's game, all the time. once you get him past his phobia of 141 seeing and teasing him he'll be a lot more open to quickies.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

it's easy to feed soaps ego, but if you get him confident enough, upon your suggestion he wouldn't say no to wearing toys, in public, or when he's out and about.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

More than ghost. it definitely gets exhausting sometimes and at that point, you'd literally just have to gag him or he won't shut up.

-Bottom Daryl-

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

in places he knows no one or nothing would bother you two.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

very rarely when there's nothing going on and boredom is the only threat. you'd have to initiate it of course and he'll scoff to hide his blush, tease you about it to hide how giddy he feels, and if you're teasing him back hell take you by the scruff of your neck and drag you somewhere secluded.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Absolutely not. I don't really know what else I can say here lol, you guys are in a zombie apocalypse, the thought of getting gnawed on by some undead guy with a dick in his ass isn't something he finds arousing.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He teases you to hide feelings he doesn't want you to know about if he's flustered hell tease you, if you made him excited about something he'd tease you a lot, especially if you get him aroused his teasing will take a dirtier turn.

[thewalkingdilf]

can we all just agree that daryl would definitely love to smoke a cigarette while you ride his thigh.

his sex drive hasn’t always been able to compare to yours, and him being a decent bit older than you definitely doesn’t help, but he could never deny a little angel like you the pleasure that you craved so badly.

so there you were, propping yourself up in his lap excitedly, getting yourself settled in the perfect position on his denim-clad thigh, with help from daryl’s strong arms keeping you steady while you adjusted yourself, of course.

the cigarette not only helped him relax in his own way, just as you were relaxing by making a mess of his strong thigh- it also served as a way for him to stall, to test your patience, a sort of timer if you will.

you’d rut yourself against him, whining and blubbering about how bad you needed him, meanwhile he’d continue to sit back in his chair, gripping your waist with one hand while the other would be raised toward his mouth, taking a long, deep draw from the cigarette, gently blowing the smoke toward you.

occasionally, if he was in an extra good mood that day, he’d flip his cigarette around in his fingers, resting it between your lips for you to take a couple puffs as well. he was typically against you smoking; he didn’t want someone like you falling into such a bad habit like him, but he couldn’t deny how much he loved to see you like that in the moment; fucking yourself against him so desperately while you blow the smoke in his face, the small nicotine buzz making you feel a bit lightheaded and dizzy, adding to your overwhelming pleasure.

“don’t worry baby, i’ll make you feel good, just lemme finish my smoke, yeah? you can be patient and do that for me, can’t ya’?”

“daryl, please.”

“not yet baby, yer being so good f’ me, i know you can wait a lil’ longer.”

[janiehellion]

Healing Touch

ONESHOT

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: When Daryl Dixon is injured and stuck in bed, he’s not exactly thrilled about the idea of being pampered by the group. But you? You’re more than ready to take care of him—and show him just what it means to be a good boy. Think Daryl Dixon’s all rough and tough? Think again...

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: DARYL DIXON X READER

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: SMUT / HANDJOB / TEASING / EDGING / ORGASM DENIAL

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 4.033

ꜱᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ: S2E05—ᴄʜᴜᴘᴀᴄᴀʙʀᴀ & S2E06��ꜱᴇᴄʀᴇᴛꜱ

MASTERLIST & REQUEST GUIDELINES

You wiped the sweat from your forehead, the Georgia sun burning down on you as you walked over to Maggie and Glenn outside of the house on Hershel's farm.

Every so often, you'd look towards the cars where a few others in the group were working, trying to make the most of the now limited supplies you all had left at the moment.

"I got a lot of corn here," Maggie said, holding up a can. "Maybe we can make some soup tonight. What do you think?"

Glenn laughed, "Soup sounds fine, I think. As long as we don’t have to eat beans again. I think I’m starting to sprout beans myself."

"Hey Maggie," you shouted over to her. "How’s everything going so far? You two need any help?"

Maggie gave you a small, but rather distracted, smile. "It’s been a quiet run, so we’re okay. We just came back a few minutes ago with some new supplies."

You nodded. "That's good. Means we won't starve anytime soon. Hey, listen, I heard Daryl’s still inside the house. Do you know how he is feeling? I really hope he is feeling better. Everything that has happened, I just... I don't know. I still can't wrap my head around it."

"Well, dad took care of him, just like he did with Carl, so I wouldn't worry too much about his condition. And if it would've worsened, dad would've told Rick already, that's for sure. But what has happened to him out there, and then the bullet? I don't know him well enough, but I think that he’s too stubborn to admit he even needed help in the first place. And that ear necklace? I'm sorry, but that was beyond creepy."

You remembered… Daryl has been out there, trying to find Sophia again. Of course, it all had to go sideways. You didn't know the details exactly, but you remembered how he had dragged himself back to the farm, looking like he’d been through hell and back. Covered in dirt and blood, and barely conscious.

Then, just when things couldn’t get any worse, Andrea took a shot at him from the roof of the RV. She’d been told to hold off by Rick, Shane, and Dale, but she fired anyway, hitting Daryl in the head, with the bullet grazing his temple.

"I’ll check on him," you now said, putting the supplies aside again. "You're right, he's too stubborn to admit it, but he needs someone to make sure he’s not pushing himself too hard. And if he could, he'd already be out there again."

As you walked towards the farmhouse, you passed by Rick, who was busy organizing and looking through different maps. He looked up at you, giving you a nod. "Hey," he said, his voice sounding rather exhausted. "Are you going to check on Daryl? Or are you going to help Beth and Lori in the kitchen?"

You nodded. "Yeah. I’m going to make sure he’s okay. Daryl's been through hell while trying to find Sophia."

"Good idea. He’s definitely been through a lot, that's true. I mean, we all have. But just… be careful with him. You know how Daryl is."

You laughed, shaking your head. "I know, Rick. That’s why I’m going to make sure he stays put and tied to the bed. Don't worry."

As you walked into the farmhouse, you could hear a voice coming from the kitchen, where Lori was preparing a meal with Beth together for Daryl and the rest of the group.

"Hello," Lori said and looked at you. "Are you going to see Daryl, or do you want to help us? Rick has been annoying me with me apparently needing help, even though Beth is helping me already."

You nodded, giving her a smile back. "Don't worry, Lori. I want to make sure Daryl's alright, you know, after everything that has happened lately."

She gave you a quick and thankful thumbs up before you continued heading to the room in which Daryl was in, but paused for a moment in front of the door, taking a deep breath. The thought of Daryl lying there, probably still hurt and so vulnerable, made your heart ache. He’d always been so strong, but seeing him in such a state was hard to imagine. And just as you were about to open the door, you heard a voice coming from the inside of the room.

You stopped, listening for a moment before pushing open the door to find Hershel standing by Daryl’s bedside.

"Evening, Hershel," you said as you entered the room, trying to keep your tone neutral despite the knot of nervousness in your stomach.

Hershel looked up, smiling at the sight of you. "Hey there, good to see you. I could use an extra pair of hands."

You moved closer to the bed, where Daryl lay, and Hershel continued, "Daryl’s been in and out of consciousness yesterday most of the time, but I’m hopeful he’ll recover fast if he gets the rest he needs. And if you could help changing the rest of the bandages right now, that would be great."

You nodded, taking a closer look at Daryl. "Sure, I’ll do whatever I can to help. I know he can be stubborn, but he needs to take it easy eventually."

"That’s the spirit. I’ve done what I can for now. He’ll need the rest."

You were still looking at Daryl as Hershel took a few steps back, who now moved slightly at the sound of your voice. His eyes opened just a little bit, and he looked at you with confusion.

"Hey, tough guy," you said. "How are you holding up so far?"

"Just peachy, as always," he answered rather annoyed.

You couldn’t help but smile at his answer. He certainly sounded like the Daryl Dixon that you all knew so far. "Well, I’m here now, so you’d better let me take care of you."

Hershel gave you another nod before finally walking out of the room. "Good, I’ll leave you to it. If you need anything, like more bandages, don’t hesitate to ask. We still got enough medical supplies left if needed."

"Thanks, Hershel," you replied, watching as he left the room.

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the task ahead.

"What’re ya even doin’ here?" Daryl suddenly mumbled. "'M fine. Don’t need no babysittin’ bullshit. Ain't needin' ya 'round here either."

You gave him a smile, trying to hide how annoyed you already were with his usual behavior. "You’re obviously not fine, Daryl. You’ve been through a lot, and you know it. I’m here to make sure you don’t do anything stupid, like trying to get up and do something you shouldn’t."

He grumbled in frustration, trying to turn away from you. "Yeah… whatever."

You raised an eyebrow, shaking your head. "Yeah... Too bad, huh? Because right now, that means letting me help you."

"Ain’t nothin’ you can do that Hershel didn’t already do," he mumbled again.

You set down the small medical kit Hershel had brought with him and pulled a chair closer to the bed. "Hershel did his part, sure, but it’s not just about the wounds. You need to rest and relax, and that’s where I come in. Also, taking off the old bandages and putting on new ones isn't that hard, but I doubt that you can do it yourself. And Hershel just left the room, so it's up to me now to change the rest of them. I don't care if you complain about it or not."

You then began to carefully take off the bandages from his side, where the crossbow bolt had pierced itself through. Daryl winced a little, but he didn’t complain so far, his pride keeping him quiet even though you could see how uncomfortable it was for him.

"You know, for someone who’s always acting so tough, you’re a real damn mess right now," you said, trying to break the ice with a bit of humor. "How’d you end up like that anyway? What even happened out there?"

Daryl smirked a bit to himself. "Ya think I’m gonna tell ya a story now? Hell, jus' get it over with."

You shook your head and laughed quietly, focusing on cleaning the wound first. "Hey, I'm not the one that looks like the wrong side of the bed became sentient and beat the ever-loving shit out of you. So you’re going to have to deal with me being the one to help you. It’s either that or I get someone else who’s less careful."

"Less careful?" Daryl asked, and he winced again as you applied antiseptic to the wound. "Sounds to me like yer enjoyin’ this."

You stopped for a moment and looked at him with a teasing smile. "You know what? Maybe I really am enjoying this. Or maybe I just want to make sure you’re not going to cause us any more trouble, even though we all appreciate what you did. Especially Carol."

"Ya think I need ya to look after me? I can handle myself jus' fine," he grumbled and closed his eyes, not wanting to look at you anymore.

You soon finished cleaning the wound and then continued with the fresh bandages. "Oh, I’m sure you can, Dixon. But that’s not even the point. The point is, you’re not in any shape to be running around and playing redneck cowboy."

Daryl moved slightly again, trying to get more comfortable. "Ain't in need to be told twice. Thank ya very much."

You stopped wrapping the bandage around him, waiting for him to get into a more comfortable position. "Stop it with the damn sarcasm, Daryl. For someone who’s always trying to play it cool, you’re really not doing a great job of hiding how much this is bothering you. You do realize that looking weak and needing help are two different things, right? You're far from being weak, and you've done much more for this group than you can probably imagine, even if you're doubting yourself and telling yourself that it's all bullshit in the end." You told him and then continued, putting on the final bandage. "But it's not. And right now, you need to let yourself be looked after, and you need to give us the chance to care about you. Even if it's only for once."

There was a moment of silence, and for a second he looked at you only to look away again, clearly struggling with giving you an honest answer about what he thinks.

You took a deep breath. "Alright, I’m done with the bandages. How about a quick check of your other injuries?"

Daryl nodded quickly, but you could see he was starting to relax a bit. "Yeah, fine. Jus'… make it quick, will ya? Ain't got no time for this bullshit."

You smiled and began checking his other wounds. "So, what’s your actual excuse for not telling us what has happened?"

"Ain't worth tellin’. Jus' 'nother day of me bein’ stupid," he grumbled back as an answer.

Soon enough, you finished checking his other wounds and stood up, giving him a pat on the shoulder. "Well, now that I’ve made sure you’re all patched up, try to get some rest. We’re all counting on you to be back on your feet soon; don't forget that."

He snorted. "Yeah, sure. I’ll try to stay outta trouble while bein' tied to this damn bed."

You smiled and began to pack up the antiseptic and unused bandages, putting them back into the small medical kit. "That’s all I ask for. Get some sleep, Daryl. You know you need it. Something to eat will be ready soon."

As you put away the last of the bandages, you noticed how tense Daryl seemed to be. So you decided to take an extra moment to help him relax, thinking how a little extra care couldn’t hurt.

Your fingers soon massaged his side as you sat down once more, careful not to touch the wound. It was meant to ease the tense muscles around it a bit, but as your hands moved over his skin, you felt that he seemed to react differently when he gasped slightly.

"Ya really don’t have to," he started, but he stopped talking as you continued, your touch slow and feeling soothing.

You looked up, now looking into his eyes. "Why not? You’re all tense. And it’s not just about the injuries; your whole body’s been through a lot. A little extra care might help. There's nothing wrong with it."

He grunted, trying to remain tough, but his breathing grew heavier, betraying his growing discomfort, and you noticed how his body responded to your touch—a reaction he was clearly trying to hide.

His cock began to harden under the sheets. The outline of it was becoming more pronounced, and you could see the rise of the sheets with each breath he took.

You tried to ignore the current awkwardness of the situation, but it was impossible not to notice, and even more impossible not to look at it. Your fingers stopped, and you hesitated momentarily before continuing to massage his side, with Daryl’s eyes squeezed shut and another groan escaping his lips.

"Ugh... Daryl?" You asked quietly, your voice full of curiosity as you realized what was happening. "Are you… okay?"

He opened his eyes and turned his head away from you. "Yeah, jus', jus' let it be. Shit, jus' stop!"

But you couldn’t ignore the evident hardening beneath the sheets anymore. As you moved slightly in your seat to get a little bit closer to him, your hand accidentally brushed against his cock, and Daryl’s reaction was immediate—he sucked in a breath, his body tensing even more.

"Ain’t needin’ ya to… to be all handsy now, goddamn it!" Daryl's voice was trembling, his body shaking a bit, and his muscles straining, even as you didn't continue to massage him. But the sudden power you had over him was intoxicating, and you decided to take your chance and act on it.

You reached down and carefully pulled back the sheets covering his lower body. Daryl’s breathing hitched as you exposed him, and his cock was already hard, pushing against his pants. You could see it clearly now, the visible outline of it.

You smirked at him as you pulled the waistband of his pants down, just enough to pull his cock out and free it from his underwear.

As you pulled it out, Daryl's eyes widened as he watched you handle him. There was no need for words; the look on his face said it all. He felt vulnerable.

You gave him a smile, your hand now wrapped around his throbbing cock. "You look like you're about to lose it, Dixon."

He glared back at you, but there was no real anger in his eyes. "Ain’t fair, ya know…"

You leaned in close to him, your lips touching his ear. "Well, who said life was fair?" Your hand started to move, giving his cock a slow, torturous stroke that had him groaning. "But maybe… if you ask nicely…"

"God… Please," he groaned again, but it was clear he wasn’t used to begging, yet the desperation in his voice was there beyond doubt.

"Good boy," you murmured, and you could see how his eyes slowly closed as he gave in to your touch and words.

You soon picked up the pace, your hand moving faster, his hips bucking into your hand. "Shit, jus' like that," he moaned, his eyes squeezing shut even more tightly.

Fuck… How he wanted it. Your hand working his cock, making him forget about everything that has happened…

You could tell he was close already. His cock twitched in your hand, and the quiet sounds he was making were turning more desperate. "Please," he gasped again. "I… I can’t..."

"Oh? Already, huh?" You teased him, your thumb brushing over the tip of his cock, smearing the pre-cum over it that had gathered there.

You smirked, enjoying the power you had over him. "Do you like this?" You teased him further.

"Yeah, jus' like that…" He panted, his body trembling. "Please... I need ya to touch me more. Can't fuckin' take it..."

"Touch you where, Daryl? Use your words. Be a good boy and tell me exactly what you want."

"My damn dick... please, jus' touch it." You immediately switched your pace back to pump him slowly again, and each stroke of your hand made him shiver, his moans growing a little louder with every touch.

His hips bucked involuntarily, but you kept your rhythm controlled, never speeding up, not letting him get the orgasm he wanted so desperately.

"I thought you were a tough guy. But look at you—so damn needy already. Come on, Daryl," you mumbled. "You’re not done yet. Not until I say so."

He whimpered, trying to thrust into your hand, but you stopped him, keeping him on edge.

"Fuck, please…" He groaned in frustration. "Don’t stop… jus' fuckin' finish me off already!"

You laughed, your grip tightening just enough to torture him a little more. "And why would I do that? You need to learn so much more about patience."

With each stroke, you used different pressure and speed, sometimes going slower just when he thought he was about to finally cum. The feeling was almost unbearable for Daryl, and you could see it in the way his muscles tensed and relaxed again and again, his breathing only coming out in gasps.

"How does it feel, Daryl? Being held on the edge like this?" You asked, looking over at the door to listen if somebody was coming closer.

"Shit, feels so damn good…" He gasped, his voice strained. "I jus' need… I need to… Fuck!"

You smiled, leaning closer to him once more when you were sure that you'd be left alone. "Not yet, tough guy. I want to see just how much you can take."

You continued your teasing, your strokes slow and torturous. "You can take it. I know you can. You want it, don’t you? You want to make me finish you so badly, but you’re going to have to earn it," you whispered.

Daryl could only nod. "Please… Hell, I can't take much more!" 

He couldn't take it anymore. The teasing—it was all too much. He wanted to cum. And he needed you to make him cum. Hell, he loved it. Your hand pumping his cock, teasing him, making him groan with need. The way you toyed with him, bringing him so close only to pull back? Shit, he was losing it… And the way your fingers wrapped around his cock, jerking it just right… It was driving him insane.

You simply grinned, feeling excited because of the power you held over him. "But that's good. Because I want you to remember this. Remember how much you wanted it and how much I made you wait."

His eyes were still squeezed shut, his fists clenched at his sides as he fought against the urge to give in.

With that, you continued to edge him, every touch, every stroke keeping him on the brink, pushing him to the limit of his own control.

And the feeling of sliding your hand back and forth along his thick shaft, the way he groaned and moaned quietly, trying to keep himself quiet just for you—it was everything you wanted...

"Fuck, please," he moaned again, his voice now breaking slightly.

His cock was pulsing in your hand and still leaking pre-cum, and you knew this was the moment he might not be able to hold back any longer. And just when he was about to finally stumble over the edge, you stopped pumping him completely, pulling your hand away from his throbbing cock.

Daryl’s eyes flew open in shock, anger, and need. "What the fuck?" He growled, his voice hoarse. "Why’d ya stop?"

You leaned in, whispering into his ear. "Because I wanted to see you beg for it, Daryl. And you’re not quite there yet."

He glared at you in need, his cheeks red, and sweat started to form on his body. "Ya can’t jus' leave me like this! Please!"

"Oh, but I can," you answered with a smirk. "And I will. Unless you really beg for it."

Daryl closed his mouth, and you could see the muscles in his jaw twitching around as he gritted his teeth, his pride and ego fighting with his desperate need. Finally, he let out a frustrated groan, his head falling back against the pillow.

"Please, please, let me cum," he whispered and finally started to beg and whimper a little more. "Please! I can't take it anymore. Please…"

God... How much he needed you. Desperately. Your hands, your touch, everything about the way you teased and pumped him, the way you handled him… It was like you knew exactly what he wanted and what he needed, and you were giving it to him for free, if only he would beg for it...

You smiled, satisfied with his response. "That’s better. Now, let’s see how much more you can take."

You went back to your teasing, your hand moving slowly over his cock, feeling him twitch and pulse again with every touch. His moans grew a little louder, even more desperate, as you brought him to the edge again and again, only to stop just before he could finally cum.

By the time you finally decided to give him what he needed, Daryl was nothing more than a trembling and pleading mess, his hips bucking toward you again and again, his eyes now looking desperatly at you.

"Fuck, you’re such a good boy, Daryl," you whispered quietly. "Look at you, trying to keep quiet for me, trying to hold back so hard. Taking it like you should… Don't stop looking at me."

You sped up, your movements rough and fast, giving him no time to adjust to the now quick pace. His body was shaking, and you could feel he was more than ready to snap.

"Yeah, you want to cum so bad, don’t you?" You teased. "Go on, Daryl. Cum for me. Show me how much you need it. How much you want it."

With a choked groan, Daryl's body tensed. His orgasm hit him hard, his cock pulsing in your grip as he came all over your hand. You kept pumping him through it, milking every last drop out of him.

"Oh, you really are a good boy, aren't you?" You mumbled. "Let it all out. You did so well for me."

He collapsed back against the bed, completely spent and exhausted, his chest heaving up and down as he tried to catch his breath.

You reached for a towel next to the small medical kit, wiping your hand and cleaning up carefully, making sure not to leave any evidence of what had just happened behind, before you looked down at Daryl, a wide smile on your face.

"Fuck," he panted. "That was… fuck..."

"Told you I’d take care of you," you answered him, giving him a wink.

He opened his eyes, looking at you quite exhausted. "Yeah, ya did…"

He didn’t protest as you cleaned him up; he just watched and stared at you with those intense blue eyes, still catching his breath with his mouth slightly open.

"There," you said, as you were finishing everything up. "All cleaned up again."

Daryl didn’t say anything for now, just giving you a small and a little ashamed nod as you leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his sweaty face.

"Get some rest now, tough guy," you whispered, pulling back and standing up. "You’re gonna need it. Remember: Be a good boy for me."

"Yeah… I... I..." He grunted in response, unable to even finish his thoughts after hearing your words, which were still making his head spin.

You simply smirked, heading towards the door. "Anytime, Daryl. Anytime."

As you walked out of the room, you couldn’t help but feel satisfied as well. Daryl Dixon might be tough as hell, but in that moment, he was completely and totally yours.

TAG-LIST: @itwasntaphasema

[whackk-kermitt]

Genre: Daryl Dixon Headcanons Pt.2

Warnings: None

Pronouns: GN!

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵

Daryl Dixon does not get jealous.

Absolutely not.

So if he happens to notice you laughing a little to hard while chatting with Rick that’s not his business.

If you wanna sit by Glenn at the campfire instead of him, that’s your loss.

The fact of the matter is he doesn’t give damn what you do and who you do it with.

Except he can lie to himself all he wants but you read him like a book.

He always does the same shit, huffing and rolling his eyes, brushing you off.

Part of you wants to fold and promise to never even look at another man.

The rational part of you knew if whatever you two had was going to last he needed to learn that just because you laugh at a joke doesn’t mean you wanna fuck them.

At first you’d seen nothing but a possessive angry man, but the closer you saw there was more to it to that.

So after a day of letting him avoid you, you’d gone to him in your tent, he was quite.

Clearly to tired to start anything up again.

You’d tried watching him and waiting for him to look back at you but he kept fining something to do to avoid having to look at you.

“Why can’t I do anything with anyone else without you thinking I wanna fuck them?”

“I don’t care what you want.” Was all he said.

You should have known what you’d signed up for with a stubborn man like him.

His words had been harsh and full of energy but his body language screamed that he was exhausted.

You'd waited for him to settle into his spot before you moved in.

That way he had no chance of getting away.

“You're a blind man, Daryl Dixon.”

It was every other day he found a new reason to think you were enraptured with someone else.

Even so, he never actually pushed you away or broke things off.

It took almost a whole winter of being with him for things to click I to place.

“Daryl, do you think I'm out of your league?”

He never stopped putting things in place in the cell he'd claimed, barely even glanced your way.

But you could see the tightness in his shoulders.

It was heartbreaking to think the man you'd grown to love had spent this whole time thinking he didn't deserve you.

He spent every moment you were laughing and smiling so sweetly at someone else thinking you only put up with him because there weren't many options.

He spent so much time wondering how on earth you settled for a grubby red-neck like him.

He was just happy you hadn’t be given up on him yet.

But with you asking that, he was afraid you were finally catching on that you could be doing better.

It made you angry.

You didn't hide it.

“Are you kidding me, Daryl? You think I'm settling?”

All he could do was shrug.

As much as he yells when he's angry, he clams up when he's on the receiving end.

Not to mention he was still convinced this was the “I'm not interested anymore.” talk.

“I don’t want anyone else, you’re it for me, Dixon. I’m happy when I’m with you, I’m safe. I don’t love anyone but you.”

It had been the first time ever that anyone ever said they loved him.

Not his dad, mother, never even Merle.

It didn’t sound real, but the way you latched onto him, holding him close and firm against you he found it hard to not believe you.

He didn’t say it back. No right away.

This whole loving someone thing was new and intimidating.

Not to mention his love language is not words.

He preferred to show you his affections by doing things for you, bringing you things from his runs.

He’d leave food out for you on the bedside table for when you woke up.

He’d rub your back at night if you were sore.

He’d bring you books and trinkets that reminded him of you.

Little things that showed you how much he cared even if he never actually said it.

All this time though, you said it.

You’d complement him and kiss his hands when you held them. Peck his cheek before and after runs.

Never his lips though, he wasn’t ready for that just yet; you could tell.

“I love you.” Was the first thing you’d say when you woke up beside him, and the last thing before you fell asleep.

“I love you.” When he did something sweet or when he just looked to cute and you just had to tell him.

It got to the point where if you went a little to long with out saying it he’d get worried you were mad at him.

He’d approach you like a lost puppy, you’d see him and smile, and he’d relax only a little.

Those were some of the only times he’d be the one to initiate a hug or something.

You’d swoon and say, “I love you, Daryl.” And he’d instantly be much happier.

You think with how often you told him that it would start to loose it’s value.

But it never did. Every time he heard you say it it felt like the first time.

It made his chest and face warm and he had trouble not smiling.

He felt like a child at a birthday party for god sake.

Even when you were angry, or just generally upset about something he said or did, you find it in your heart to still love him.

He couldn’t believe his luck sometimes.

It was one night, curled up in the bottom bunk together that he finally said it.

The Woodbury fiasco was over and done, and the citizens had moved into the prison.

There had been a close call in one of the fights, where you fell to the ground.

He watched you fall, and in his eyes he watched you die.

It took you only a minute to rip your sleeve and wrap the bullet wound on your leg.

You were up and shooting back before he had time to run to you.

He watched you like a hawk for days.

He’d pace and watch you from the courtyard out in the field doing some farming.

It’s all they allowed you to do with your leg still healing.

It had been long enough though that the wound was almost completely scared over.

But it had stuck with him.

He had nightmares here and there about you ending up like Merle.

He’d find you, unable to have saved you, you’d have turned.

Nightmares about not being able to put your corpse down, being your last meal.

It was that night that he woke from said nightmare. But you were their, curled up beside him, alive and well.

You stirred wake with his squirming and heavy breathing.

Neither of you said anything, you didn’t need too. He just held you tighter and threw those scary thoughts out the window.

He felt at home when he felt you press a gentle peck to his jaw, the only place you could reach from your position. 

He felt so warm and giddy inside.

You were safe and you loved him, that’s all that mattered to him.

He returned the favor by pecking your head.

After that the words just sort of fell out.

You didn’t wanna make it a huge deal and make him nervous so you just smiled and kissed him again.

“I love you too Daryl Dixon.”

After he said it that’s all you would say when he did something for you.

He’d bring you a plate and he’d sit beside you, eyeing you until you started eating. “I love you too, now eat something.”

He’d give someone a nasty look if they came across as rude to you, “You’re to sweet, I love you too.”

He was still insecure and easily got jealous, but now he didn’t yell at you or push you away.

He would sort of just wait for the day to be over so he could have you all to himself in your cell.

He wait for you to settle in before curling up in your chest and just bask in knowing you’d always have your arms open for him.

He knew there were better options: nicer people, easier people. People who didn’t punch first ask later, who didn’t look down on everyone and their mother for no fucking reason. People you were far more gentle and caring then he knew how to be.

You don’t have to tell him, he knew.

But if you were blind enough to only see him, he would keep his mouth shut just to keep you to himself.

Daryl was not at all a PDA person.

But if the air was tense, if you were nervous or worked up about something he didn’t hesitate to set a hand on your back or shoulder.

He just needed you to know he was there for you.

You knew, you knew that Daryl would die for you.

What Daryl didn’t know is that you, gentle loving Y/n, would go father.

If something were to happen to him, the anger and grief would likely drive you to madness.

You got so heated when you’d see someone look down on him for being the quiet reserved man he is.

You’d overheard a man from Woodbury talking up some shit about him.

“You think Dixon realized how nasty he looks?Looks like he’d been out in the woods fucking corpses he’s got so much shit on him!”

You didn’t know what he was talking about, but no way in hell anyone is saying fucked up shit about your man.

You wanted to cuss him out but it didn’t quite seem worth it.

Plus if you did no doubt Daryl would find and and overthink his appearance.

Like he needed another reason to hate himself.

You probably would’ve left it at that if the fucker did go and start a fight with Daryl the very next day.

You found Daryl getting a busted lip and bruised cheek looked at by Maggie.

You saw red, you wanted blood.

But that seemed a bit extreme, and Daryl needed kisses and snuggles to feel better.

So murder could wait.

You waited for that idiot to join you and some others on a run.

The fucker was gross and perverted. Making comments about some of the women back at the prison behind their backs.

He even admitted to stealing some chicks underwear when he was back in Woodbury.

So you hated this guy.

So when walkers came round a corner in a supermarket you guys were clearing you waited a bit longer to step in and help.

The man fell back, walked above him, biting down at his face, nearly getting him.

He looked over and saw you just watching, he begged.

It was when you knew he couldn’t keep it away anymore that you took care of it.

Your face was stoic but your eyes screamed murder.

What the hell did he do to you piss you off that bad?

He didn’t say anything when Glenn had come to see what the commotion was, making sure you guys were okay.

He didn’t say anything the whole ride back to the prison.

And he didn’t say anything when Daryl greeted you at the gates with a smile and a cheek waiting for a kiss.

It was then he realized what he did to deserve that.

Glenn mention to Daryl what he had pieced together.

Daryl didn’t know whether to be proud, worried, or horny for kisses and cuddles.

You going that far to stand up for him made parts of him stir.

He knew it would be so easy for him to do something like that for you, but the fact that you were apparently willing to to the same was fascinating.

That night he’d surprised you in bed by smothering you with kisses. He’d held you so close and played with you hair, saying ���I love you.” Over and over.

It was a bliss he prayed lasted forever.

But it didn’t.

The next day was the day The Governor decided to return for his revenge.

Amongst all the chaos and death he lost you.

Didn’t see where you went, or if you got shot.

He screamed your name, searching the fleeing crowds for you.

He saw your shoe.

Laying on the ground with you nowhere in sight.

He scooped it up and cried your name a few more times before he couldn’t stick around any longer.

He found himself in the woods with Beth screaming and punching a tree.

He couldn’t breath he had been crying so hard.

He begged for you to be alive.

He needed you to be alive.

Losing you was killing him.

Part 3..?👀

•Kermitt’s Masterlist•

[kissesfordaryl]

intertwined, sewn together.

daryl dixon & his lover best friend.

(soft daryl hcs bc i love him)

daryls first instinct is to push you away. he felt that the rest of the group saw through him and only recognized his brother, but not you. never you. he didnt know why you were so nice to him- didnt even believe that you were genuine. but you persisted and eventually managed to weasel your way past his walls, following him everywhere he went. he realizes that hes most true to himself when hes with you.

you two are practically attached to the hip, never seen without each other. half the time youre not even doing anything special, only being in each others presence. as soon as youre away from him, hes asking around to see where youve gone.

you loved sneaking away from the rest of the group and into the forest, following the sounds of rushing water or watching the wildlife scurry past. although daryl knew the woods better than you, he let you lead the way.

as you secure a spot along the river, he settles in besides you, knees knocking against yours, his crossbow forgotten to the side. you pretend not to notice, but sometimes he'll stare at you for moments on end, a small smile forming.

youre basically the only one who can make him laugh- full on belly laugh. your arm is draped around his shoulders as you whisper jokes no one else can catch, and then hes doubling over in concealed laughter, a hand coming up to hide his smile.

its always just been normal to share everything between you, from food to deodorant to blankets to tents to beds to drinks. there was no yours or his. just an ours.

as new additions to the group come along, they always get the impression of daryl being rather intimidating or quiet. theyre always surprised when he sees him with you: laughing like a school-kid and bickering over something stupid.

no one else is surprised when he shows up wearing your clothes and getting defensive at all the stares hed be getting. "what? all my clothes are dirty, s'not my fault."

he only lets either carol or you call him stupid nicknames. the stupider it gets, the more funny.

one time on a run, you found these matching necklaces. he scoffs when you hand it to him, but makes you put it on for him. hes never seen without it again- and will lose his shit if he loses it.

most of the time, he'll listen to you babble on about whatever, but he could talk your ear off just as much. you laughed at how expressive he could get, hands waving around as he explained his distaste to a certain topic.

no one knows when you got together, in fact they like to make bets on it- but one random day youre leaning down to press a kiss to his lips like youve been doing that forever- and everyone just continues on.

while i was making this it crashed and didnt save so i had to write this twice.. (p.s. ive got a couple requests so know im working on all of them! just wanted to post something.. i write super slow sorry 😭)

[grimespial]

Same Differences.

Daryl Dixon x Younger Male reader who has the opposite coping mechanism

At first he thought you were just some kid like Glenn, uncomfortably positive

Probably a good family, good education, friends and a girlfriend

All he knew was you always wanted to help. The task didn't matter really, as long as you could help it was good.

And you could talk. No amount of glares or one sided conversations could get you to leave him alone.

But then he sees your scars, theyre like his, but clearly not as old, they almost mimic a rib cage with how they wrapped onto your chest.

They could almost be played off as some sort of purposeful scar, but he knew how scars aged and healed.

The physical ones that is. The emotional ones weren't something he knew how to deal with, but you seemed to do fine with that.

He was jealous. You looked happier, healed, better than him.

Until you just broke down in front of him.

You asked to help with cleaning his bolts, or his clothes, you could even skin whatever he caught

He snapped at you, everything was piling up on him and you just kept talking, he couldnt tell you to go away but he needed to stew in his feelings, even though it never helped in the long run.

Tears just pooled and you still tried to pretend they weren't there, before smiling and leaving.

It took Daryl a while to put it together that you wanted to feel useful, help people, and it made him feel shit.

He never realised how used to your presence he was, it was part of the routine, you would both just do tasks in eachother's presence

Daryl ended up apologising, and was not very subtle with looking at your scars

When you told him the story, it was suprising how similar you both were

The relationship just came along by itself, you two were practically stuck together, if one of you were going somewhere, the other would end up being brought along.

Daryl was sitting closer than usual when you just went for the kiss before leaving thinking you ruined it.

And when you avoided him, Daryl realised how he felt, he found himself looking for you without realising

When you're dating, Daryl gives you tasks to do, if hes skinning a deer, he'll ask you to clean his bolts

He takes you on runs, finds anything you can do because he knows you want to be useful, and praises you

But when it comes to kissing, you're in control, a complete opposite of your normal behaviour, making Daryl feel good is plenty enough

Daryl is practically ready to fight anyone who insults you, it's worse for him when you dont even realise that someone was insulting you

He's almost like a guard dog when it comes to other people, he just wants you to be happy instead of ending up like how he was.

You clean his hands and face if there's any blood on it, he tells you it doesn't make sense, he's already dirty, but you insist to do this little thing for him

Before the apocalypse he would've scoffed at acts like this, but it was something different with you, close to eachother while you hold him and clean him like he's some sort of doll

[sleep-0-deprived]

can i request trey jack leona and idia hcs with the bunny reader you did? they should all be majors if im not mistaken 😔

Trey, Jack, Leona Idia x male bunny reader head cannons SFW

A/N I didn’t know if you wanted nsfw too so I didn’t write it since I didn’t wanna make you uncomfy if you didn’t want it

Trey

He’s your number one teaser making lewd jokes pulling on your bunny ears making you blush in very serious moments, making you turn into a mess when he walks up behind you and starts teasing you while your fulfilling your duty’s with riddle.

Often times calling you his “pet bunny” just to further mess with you and it always works cause he just holds that power over you!

Jack

Rarely does he ever tease you but he will get upset or pull on your bunny tail, he likes to enjoy time talking despite his rugged demeanor he turns into a sweetheart for you behind doors but he’d never admit that aloud.

Jack often times loves you following the rules liking your calm cool demeanor and how smart you are but he also loves knowing he gets a sensitive side no one else sees.

Leona

He is the type to be into making you at your softest moments around him calling you nick names like “prey” or “little rabbit” while messing with you and teasing you like your some sorta bendable bunny.

He loves to poke at you when you try to study or focus on anything that isn’t him, he’s very jealous of you but had too much pride to ever admit it despite him making it obvious.

Idia

He was honestly intimidated by you when you two first met. Finding himself flustered as he stares at you being all strict running your errands and doing your duty’s for riddle as he watches from afar.

Getting shocked when you ask him pull reduced to a flushed mess making him blink getting flushed too but soon accepting your offer and become all flushed together and ultimately a cute and wholesome couple.

[mushrubes]

Underneath

Masterlist | The walking dead Masterlist

Part one | Part three

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 : 1.5k

Have a great day / night !!

—---

If I meet you in the middle maybe we could agree

"Na." Daryl shrugged, turning away from you and giving Rick his attention. "Oh, come on! Really, Daryl?" you scoffed, face plaming at his words. "Look, we need as many people as we can get." Rick tried to reason, sending you an apologetic look about Drayl's reaction. The hunter was silent, turning away and continuing to clean his arrows. "Daryl, he needs more people." you repeated, siding with Rick. To be honest, you had been dying to get out of the town, wanting to do at least something.

"Not yer." he continued, turning to now face you, lifting his gaze up to meet yours. Although he had his usual stern and tough expression, you could see the mix of fear and concern both in the way he was looking at you and his reaction to Rick's news. You reached out, hand pressing softly to his bicep. He stayed still for a few seconds before moving his arm, grunting.

It was evident he was still uncertain about letting you help the group out on the run. "C'mon brother, meet me halfway." Rick pleaded, his hands on his hips as you tried to think of a possible solution. "Meet us halfway, Dixon. I'll come with you instead of Glenn's group, and help you." you suggested, seeing him immediately get less tense.

"Fine."

You make me feel little how you're looking at me

"What was yer thinkin'?" Daryl raised his voice, pacing back and forth as you sat in the chair. While you had been on the run, there happened to be more walkers than the four of you had anticipated, resulting in all of you having to rush out as Abraham came up with a quick resolution. When getting out of the building, you had been too concentrated on surviving and didn't realise the long, deep gash on your shin, the sprained ankle making it harder for you to walk. His leather jacket was currently tied across your leg in a makeshift bandage, as best as he could, trying to stop the bleeding even the smallest bit.

"Stop looking at me like that." you mumbled, his intense stare putting you off. You stared at the ground, legs dangling off the seat. He didn't mean this rant harshly - you knew that. He was concerned about you getting hurt, but the looks he gave you when this stuff happened, it made you feel small and weak. The fact you relied on him made you feel guilty, but this, on top of everything made it worse. "This is why I don't want yer out." he grumbled, missing the broken look on your face. "I can't jus' babysit yer every time!" he lectured, biting his tongue as he saw your eyes gloss slightly.

The door opened, footsteps getting closer before the person appeared. Carol walked in, tentatively looking between the pair of you as she could sense the tension. "Everything okay?" she cautiously questioned, walking over and sitting in the chair next to you. You hummed, the floor yet again being more interesting. She looked up at Daryl, giving him a look that read 'We'll talk about this later'. "Daryl was just leaving." you said simply, not giving him a glance. He didn't respond, opening his mouth but then closing it. He walked over, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head and sparing you a glance before walking out.

He was so complicated.

And you can throw me shade, all it does is just cool me off

"Okay, what happened?" Carol asked, putting the tray into the oven as Daryl took a seat on the barstool opposite begrudgingly. "Had a go at 'em. It was a stupid thing to do." he shrugged, acting as if it were no big deal. She turned to face him, leaning against the side with her arms folded in her chest as she sighed at him. "Daryl." she warned, trying to help him calm down. She walked around, pulling the stool next to him out and sitting down. "You can't fool me." she whispered, brushing the hair out of his eyes and frowning as she saw his eyes get glossy.

"I was there." he groaned, holding his head in his hands as Carol's hand rested on his back, rubbing up and down comfortingly. "It wasn't your fault." she assured him, but he didn't believe it. He never did. No matter what happened or who it was, if something happened to anyone that he was with on a run or anything, he immediately felt guilty, like he had failed at protecting them. It hit even harder with you, swearing to himself to always keep you out of harm's way even if that meant putting himself at risk. Carol stood up, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

"They'll pull through." she assured, getting up and leaving him with his thoughts.

First it just threw me off, now I'm just moving on

Sitting down in the chair, he placed the flowers Carol had asked him to bring on the bedside table. His knee bounced anxiously, taking in your peaceful figure. Luckily, the damage hadn't been too horrid. You had a few stitches on your leg and your ankle should be okay in a day or so. Eventually, you moved about, fidgeting in the bed and stretching which broke Daryl out of his stance. "Mornin'" he spoke, nervously waiting for your response. You froze for a second, soon smiling as you realised he was there. "Hey." you smiled weakly, turning to face him.

Silence swept over the room for a few minutes, the pair of you debating over what to say or do. Your hands had intertwined at some point, Daryl's grip slightly hard as if you were going to fade away otherwise. Your thumb rubbed up and down comfortingly as he snapped out of his thoughts again. "'m sorry." he mumbled, his voice cracking slightly as you chuckled. He was normally very stubborn, reluctant to apologise but by the way he was acting and the evident proof of the lack of rest he had gotten, you knew he felt bad.

"It's fine, Daryl. You were just looking out for me." you spoke, seeing him perk up slightly as he realised you knew how he felt despite him not having to say anything. "Did you get any rest last night?" you asked, frowning as your hand cupped his cheek, heating up slightly. "Na. Was worrin' bout yer. I should've got yer out." he grumbled, still accusing himself for the state you were in.

"Hey, it could've been worse." you lightly joked, moving over and tapping the side of the bed to signal for him to lay next to you. He didn't argue for once, complying with you and carefully lying down, not wanting to knock your leg. "It wasn't your fault." you whispered, caressing his cheek as he pressed a kiss to the palm of your hand. "Jus' want yer safe." he huffed, his eyes full of adoration.

"I'm always safe with you."

Fallin' again,  I need a pick-me-up

"Be safe." you pleaded, handing him his crossbow after he pulled his vest on. "Don' worry bout me. I'll be back later." he assured, kissing your temple before walking over to the other group, making you chuckle as he turned into his usual 'tough' self, threatening one of the other's as he made a comment about him. "What's going on with you two?" Rick asked, holding Judith in his arms as she played with some of his hair. You turned towards him, raising an eyebrow. "What?" you questioned, feeling yourself get flustered.

"Oh c'mon, everyone can see it." he huffed, smirking at you as Michonne walked out, humming in agreement. "Not wrong." she grinned before heading down the steps, greeting another person. "What about you two?" you huffed, trying to change the topic but he stopped you. "I asked first." he chuckled, handing Judith to Carl who walked back inside with her, probably going to feed her. "Nothing." you sighed, turning to where the group was, watching Daryl get onto his bike.

"That's a lie. I've known you forever and you've never looked at anyone like that." he argued, making you sigh as you knew he was right, not able to argue. "He doesn't feel the same Rick. Leave it." you grumbled, not wanting to dwell on the subject any more than you already did. The hope building inside of you, the head or cheek kisses Daryl gave you before he left you alone, the hugs and moments shared between you - it was platonic. There was no way he would feel the same as you did, you were so sure of it. "He doesn't treat us like he treats you. Not even Carol." he tried to assure, knowing it wouldn't be much help.

You were in love with your best friend, but there was no way he'd ever know it.

----

Part one | Part three

[pretentiousgayguyidk]

I know I've been gone forever, but it wasn't all for naught! As i have started making progress on a big ass project. Point is I've started writing a fanfic for the ENTIRE Walking Dead show. Yes, it is a Daryl x Male Reader. Yes you might cry, as I will go through as much for the show in fan fic form as I can. So far i have solid ideas all the way up to the start of season four!

That being said please keep in mind that The Walking Dead is a violent and gory show, my writing will reflect the story as exact as I can with an additional character. There will be graphic content, so if you are triggered by mention of death, suicide, gore, assault, abuse, drugs, and more. PLEASE DO NOT READ. I don't want anyone to be harmed by my works.

City of the Dead

Prologue

----------------------------------------------------------

“Vera-shka, I need a screwdriver.” The young man called out, wiping sweat from his brow as his younger sister aided him. She scoffed, aggressively handing over the tool making him wince in pain as it pressed against his growing blisters. He had been working on his father’s old Apache for almost six hours now, his hands were aching, and his mind was tired. He sighed, carefully replacing yet another piece of the heli’s dash.

“You know, as much as Papa loves his Pititsa he really let it go.” Vera grumbled, leaning against the Apache’s hull. Her older brother grunted in agreement, screwing in the last piece of  the helicopter’s new gauges.

“Da, Papa’s too busy drinking to be bothered with his favorite child. Why do you think he practically raised us on this bird?” He laughed with no feeling, he couldn’t even muster the energy anymore. With yet another sigh he climbs out of the helicopter, carefully cleaning oil and grease off his hands with his rag. “Vera-shka, you should probably get back, he’ll raise hell if dinner isn’t fixed by the time he’s home.” She crossed her arms, raising a brow and pursing her lips sassily.

“Seriously? Do I really have to? I mean what's the point! You know I suck at cooking, he’ll be pissed no matter what! You do it, you’re the golden child. Suka.” she raged, waving her hands around rabidly. He sighed, nodding with a weak smile.

“Okay. You win Vera. I’ll do all the work, not like I’ve been covering your ass since birth.” He muttered, turning for the house. He knows he shouldn’t be hard on Vera, she was only fourteen. She shouldn’t be at home fixing dinner and helicopters. He stopped for a moment, sucking in a deep breath before turning around. “I’ll only cook if you-”

His heart hammered in his ears. His body running cold with goosebumps as a string seemed to snap inside him. A man with pale skin and stringy hair had grabbed Vera - pulling on her ponytail - his teeth digging into her arm as she tried to pull him off. He stood frozen in fear and shock for a moment as the man ripped apart her arm, making it go limp… exposing her neck.

(Name) grabbed the nearest tool, a wrench. He gripped it tightly, tight enough to pop some of the blisters. He raised the wrench, ignoring the liquid coating his hand and the wrench as he swung at the being. “Слезь с нееб, сука!” He screamed ferally, his eyes wide with rage as the sickening crunch of the man’s skull filled his ears. The man fell to the ground, part of his skull caved in. The older tossed his tool aside, rushing over and cradling his limp sister in his arms. She gurgled, blood gushing from her neck and spilling from her mouth as she choked. He stifled a sob, gently hugging her.

“Мне жаль! я так виноват…” He wailed. She silently cried, only able to respond with soft gurgling and sighing. He pressed his forehead against hers, gently cradling her wound. He fumbled for a bit, his mind going blank as he reached for his phone. The blood caking his fingers made it difficult to hold onto. He swallowed hard as he called 911.  The phone picked up after a few seconds, the woman on the line sounded fearful as she asked “911 what's your emergency?” He blubbered for a bit, mumbling in Russian manically. The woman on the line started to speak, only for her sentence to be cut off by a scream, and the steady beeping of the call ending. Was the line cut?

 She choked and gasped one last time before falling limp and cold in his arms. He trembled, pulling away slightly to look at her face. Slowly shaking his head, he shakes her a little. It wasn’t the first time he lost someone, and it wasn’t the first time someone died in front of him. All the same, seeing someone so much younger than you die, die so brutally in your arms. 

He cried out, coughing and choking as he dropped her body to the ground. He stumbled backwards, his stomach catching in a knot as bile was expelled. “No no no…” he whimpered, his (light/dark) hair falling into his face. His body pulsed with strain as more acid spilled from his mouth and nose. The burning sensation in his throat and sinuses made him cry harder as he clutched at his hoodie, smearing blood all over the fabric. He gripped at his hair and pressed his face to the ground, hyperventilating as he pulled. Small clumps of dead hair fell onto the ground before him. Gagging again he slowly sat up, wiping his face roughly. He sniffed hard, pressing his palms into his eyes - trying to stop the flow of tears.

Soft groaning was covered by the young man’s sobs, he didn’t notice the growling and moaning behind him. He didn’t notice the footsteps, and he didn’t notice that his sister was reanimated. 

He yelped in fear at the feeling of delicate, cold, and clammy hands against his scalp. He threw himself forward, ignoring that he just fell into a puddle of vomit as he turned around. Slowly he shook his head, his head pulsing with pains in sync with his heart. Hard fast thumping, pumping adrenaline and fear through his body.

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His sister stood before him, groaning softly with pale red-yellow eyes. Her fingers twitched erratically, and he could see drops of drool running down her chin. He was almost fool enough to speak up before realizing, realizing that his beloved Vera-shka - the little sister he raised since she was a baby - was dead. He let out a breathy whine, shaking his head as she lunged forward. He kicked out, holding her up with his legs as he held onto her hands. 

“Vera! Vera, stop!” He wailed. Her only response to his begging was more growling and hissing, mindlessly snapping her jaws at him. He let out a shaky breath, kicking her to the side with great force, he panted, struggling to crawl away and towards the tool box. The tool box had been knocked over during the first fight, spilling the tools just out of his reach from his current position. He gasped, feeling Vera grab at his ankles. He flips onto his back, watching as Vera bit at his boots savagely. He hesitated for only a second before kicking her, she didn’t budge. “Please, Vera-shka please.” He begged weakly, fumbling behind him for a tool. He kicked her again, throwing her from his feet and breaking her nose in the process.

She growled loudly, standing with a wobble. That's not Vera. Vera is dead. He thought harshly, watching her dead eyes for tears yet none came. She was always a cry baby when it came to pain, she would have passed out on the floor in tears if it was actually her. The thought cleared his mind and his vision blurred as he grabbed a tool from the ground. A pipe wrench, he could only tell by the wight and the weapons red color. Weapon. That's right, it’s his weapon. He grunted with effort, raising the tool - feeling the weight press into his shoulders and arms. It was heavy, heavier than it should have been. He grunted with great effort, his chest tightening painfully as the weight caved in Vera’s skull. 

He dropped the tool, breathing hard. He swayed a little with each step, stepping around the body and stumbling back to the house. He wheezed, coughing hard as he stepped into the bathroom. He turned on the shower and quickly threw off his clothes, throwing them across the small room with great anger. Slowly, he turned to his reflection, watching as splattered blood dripped down his chin. He pressed his forehead to the glass, trying to even out his breathing as the room filled with warm mist.

Squeezing his eyes shut didn't help, the image of his undead sister seared his mind's eye like a hot iron. He let out a loud wail, smashing his face into the mirror as hard as he could. The glass shattered, slicing across his forehead to his left eyebrow in one jagged gash. He fell back, holding his face as he whined in pain, immediately regretting acting on his intrusive thoughts. 

Scoffing at himself he hobbles his way into the shower, laying back in the tub and letting the burning water pelt his body. He looked up at the ceiling weakly, one eye slightly closed - his vision blurred red. He let out a shaky sigh, running his hands through his (h/c) hair; slicking it back with the water. How was he supposed to explain to his Mama that Vera was dead? How was he supposed to tell his Papa that he had to kill some crazy person? How would he hide it? Could he even hide it? 

“I’ve done it before… no, that was different. This is my sister, not some fucking rat.” He muttered to himself, his throat tightening as fear and dread wrapped around him like chains to hell. How was he supposed to fix this?

An hour later, the water had run cold and he had finally mustered the energy to clean off his skin and hair, wincing as the soap got into his blisters and cut. He lazily turned off the water, watching as the reddened water drained. With a huff he slowly climbs out and opens the cabinet, grabbing some gauze, gauze pads, and butterfly stitches. He carefully placed the butterfly stitches along the cut, pulling it together slightly before placing some of the gauze padding. He carefully wrapped the injury, making sure it's nice and tight before tucking the loose end. He took any excess gauze and wrapped his blistered hands, probably best to keep blood and dirt out of the injury.

“I hope this is some fucked dream…” He whispered to himself, wrapping a fluffy towel around himself as he awkwardly waddled out of the bathroom and to his room. Based on the silence, his Mama and Papa weren’t home. Maybe he would have time to bury Vera.

With that idea in mind he was quick to get dressed, wincing as he pulled on his clean shirt and pants, the fabric rubbing against his bandaged hands. He was sore, nauseous, and exhausted; but all the same something inside him told him, he has to bury her. She was his little sister, a literal baby only 14 years ago. He could remember vividly taking care of her when he had just turned eleven and she had come home. It’s only right to bury her. There's no way to contact the police with the line cut.

He grabbed a pair of gloves and carefully fitted them over his bandages, then ran to the garage to grab a shovel - but not before grabbing his pocket knife to be safe.

The shovel rang out a metallic noise as he dragged it behind him, making his way to the heli and his sister’s body. His other hand was occupied with the knife, flipped open and ready to use. He was half expecting those things to be up and moving, he’s seen dead people walk, and at this point he doesn’t even know if that's what he saw. 

Once close enough to his sister’s body he was hit with a foul sour odor. The stench of death hung around the heli like a thick fog, he gagged a little, covering his face as he inched closer. Once closer he took a good look at the ‘man’. He was definitely dead, hell he was definitely dead before (Name) got to him. The young man shook his head a little, his eyes burning slightly - whether it was from the smell of rotting flesh or his sister’s death he didn’t know. 

“This shit can’t be real.” He muttered, walking a little farther than the heli. He sighed, trying to ignore the smell as he put away his knife and gripped the shovel. As he plunged the tool into the dirt the weight of what went down today rested against his consciousness. His sister was dead. Silent tears burned his eyes as he continued digging, tossing the dirt to the side.