#Daryl x reader

[dixons-sunshine]

Risky Business | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: During an evening party organized by Carol, you and Daryl couldn’t help but get a little worked up, your hands constantly finding each other amongst the crowd. So you slipped off, the two of you discreetly finding your way to the bathroom to have your fun—even at the risk of getting caught.

Genre: Smut.

Era: Alexandria, pre Saviour arc.

Warnings: Swearing, porn with the tiniest bit of plot towards the end, quickie, semi public sex? (they do it in someone’s bathroom), risk of getting caught (they don’t), unprotected p in v (wrap it up, guys), creampie, aftercare because of course, mentions of pregnancy.

Word count: 1.7k.

A/N: I’m just gonna leave this here and disappear lol. I really don’t know what possessed me when I got this idea, but I hope it’s enjoyable. Also, massive thanks to @thevegandarkelf for encouraging me to write this (and for help with the summary) 💜.

Laughter and chatter could be heard from the living room. Surprisingly, everyone seemed to be enjoying the small get-together that Carol had planned. The party was in full swing, with no sign of anyone returning to their respective homes anytime soon. It was nice to have an escape from the horrors of a world run by the undead.

However, the pleasantries downstairs were only a vague remembrance in your mind. No offense to Carol’s efforts to make the party fun, but you found what you and Daryl were up to way more enjoyable.

“Hmm,” Daryl hummed against your lips, his mouth moving against yours desperately as his hands gripped at your hips. He pushed you against the sink in the bathroom, your back making contact with the cold marble.

You gently nipped at his lower lip, smiling when he groaned and pressed his body against yours, his growing erection pressing against your thigh. “This is wrong,” you mumbled against his mouth, your hands working at his belt buckle, and then at the buttons of his jeans.

“So wrong,” Daryl agreed, his chapped lips moving down your jaw, trailing hungry, open-mouthed kisses against the skin of your neck, before finally stopping to gently scrape his teeth against the pulse point beneath your ear.

You gasped, leaning your head back to allow him better access to your neck. You pushed his jeans down, just enough to reveal his hard-on that was still covered by the fabric of his boxers. “They’re waiting for us. If they come looking, they might find us like this.”

“They could,” Daryl agreed again, his own hands working to push your pants down as well. “This s’risky. We could get caught.”

Despite the both of you agreeing that what you were doing was, indeed, very risky, neither of you made any effort to stop the other. In fact, as Daryl pushed your underwear down and you stepped out of both your pants and panties, and you helped Daryl push his boxers down to bundle up with his jeans at his knees, sharing looks full of lust, you realized that you would not be able to find it in yourself to stop him.

Daryl’s mouth collided against yours again, his tongue delving deep into your mouth and groaning at the taste. He tapped the side of your leg, signalling for you to jump. You did just that, wrapping your arms around his neck. Daryl caught you, walking—albeit awkwardly, due to his jeans being bundled up by his knees—you away from the sink in favour of holding you up against the wall.

You pulled your lips from his, your mouths being connected by a string of saliva. Daryl’s usual stunning cerulean-coloured eyes were barely visible behind his blown pupils, showing just how desperate he was for you in that moment. He needed you, just like you needed him.

“What are you waiting for?” you asked through panting breaths. “We have maybe ten minutes before someone comes looking. Let’s get to it.”

“Ya sure? We dun’ gotta rush—”

“Daryl, I love you, but please hurry up.”

Daryl chuckled gruffly at your eagerness, but nodded nonetheless. “Yes, ma’am.”

You watched in anticipation as Daryl lined himself up with your entrance, your heart pounding against your ribcage. The archer kept eye contact with you the entire time, not wanting to miss even a second of the beautiful expressions that graced your features as he slowly pushed his cock into you.

The breath got knocked from your lungs as he fully bottomed out. A high-pitched moan escaped your chest at the pleasurable stretch, your nails digging into his leather-covered shoulders. Even after all that time of regularly doing the devil’s tango, you still had to take a moment to get used to the slight sting that accompanied him when he had his dick stuffed all the way inside of you.

Daryl inhaled sharply, his lust-filled eyes meeting yours. “Y’alright?” he questioned. Despite the situation, the archer was more than willing to stop everything if you wanted him to. He would never do anything like this without your go-ahead first.

You took a few seconds to adjust. Once the little bit of pain subsided, you nodded eagerly. “Yeah. Just… Please move,” you begged him, not knowing how long you would be able to be patient with him being immobile.

Daryl took a few deep breaths. “Okay.” Then, he pulled back until only his tip was inside of you, before plunging right back in.

The rhythm started off slow and steady, but Daryl quickly picked up the pace. The two of you were running against the clock. He wanted to ensure that you got off as well, and to do that, he could not waste any time.

“Daryl,” you moaned quietly, right next to his ear, which you knew would always drive him insane. It seemed to work in your favour. Daryl’s hips snapped against yours, the tip of his cock hitting just the right spot. “Oh, fuck!” you gasped out in pleasure, your fingers disappearing into his hair and lightly tugging on his wavy brown roots.

Daryl groaned at the sensation. He smashed his lips against yours, both in an attempt to drown out the beautiful noises you made—which were for his ears only—and the noises you were pulling from him.

“Fuck,” he muttered against your mouth. “You ain’t got—” Thrust. “—no idea—” Thrust. “—how fuckin’—” Another thrust. “—good ya feel.”

“Yeah?” you asked rhetorically, a whine slipping past your lips and being swallowed up by Daryl’s. Your back was moving up and down against the cold tiles of the wall with each of his thrusts.

“Yeah,” Daryl confirmed with a choked off moan. “You feel like heaven.” He carefully moved one of his arms to your front, ensuring you did not fall, before pressing his calloused thumb against your sensitive bundle of nerves and moving it in time with the pace of his hips.

“Shit! Oh, shit! Daryl, fuck!” You were trying really hard to keep quiet, but Daryl was making it damn near impossible. You lowered your head and pressed your face into his shoulder, muffling your moans with the leather of his vest. You could feel the knot in your stomach start to tighten, and some far-off piece of your mind was impressed by it. Never before had you been close so fast before. Daryl truly was the best partner you ever had.

“Close.” That’s all you managed to get out. Any other words would fall short.

Daryl could feel himself getting close as well. In fact, he was tapering on the edge of bliss. He grit his teeth together and upped his game. He was determined to make you finish first. His thumb pressed against your clit the tiniest bit harder, and his thrusts became more precise, more firm, hitting that one delicious spot inside you each time.

Before you could even fully process what was happening, you could feel the knot in your stomach snap. You came undone with a shout, that was drowned out by Daryl’s mouth against yours, waves and waves of pleasure washing through your body.

The clenching of your walls around his dick sent Daryl toppling over the edge. His hips stuttered and his pace wavered immensely as he spilled his seed deep inside of you, barely registering that he had intended to pull out like he always did. He leaned his forehead against yours, sweat dribbling down his temples.

The two of you said and did nothing for a good thirty seconds. You both simply stayed there in each other’s embrace, each catching your breaths as the intensity of the moment washed away, instead being replaced by reality.

Daryl was the first to move away. He pulled his cock out of you and pulled his boxers and jeans back up, before leaning over to grab a washcloth. He wet it and crouched down, gently cleaning you of both your juices and his.

And his.

“Fuck, m’so sorry!” Daryl apologized, his eyes widening at the realization of what line he had crossed.

His apology took you off guard. “What? Why are you sorry? What’s wrong?”

Daryl looked down and continued his task of cleaning you up, his cheeks burning in embarrassment of the admission he was about to make. “I, uh…” He cleared his throat. “I didn’t pull out.”

Oh, you thought to yourself, relieved that it wasn’t something more serious. Despite his heartfelt apology, you could not help the small laugh that escaped your chest, finding him rather adorable in that moment for reasons even you could not put names on.

Daryl frowned at that, standing up from his crouched position. “What’s so funny?”

You shook your head as you smiled at him. “Nothing.” You reached down and reached for your discarded clothes, getting re-dressed into your panties and trousers. “You don’t have to be sorry, Daryl. I’m not mad.”

Daryl visibly relaxed at that. “You ain’t?”

You shook your head and looped your arms around his neck. “Not at all. It was bound to happen eventually. Besides, “worst” case scenario is that we have a little you running around in nine months. I don’t hate the sound of that.”

Daryl felt his heart speed up. You wouldn’t mind giving him a child? Starting a family with him? That made him happier than he would like to admit.

His hands came to rest on your hips. “Pretty sure the baby ain’t gon’ be able to run when they’re jus’ born, Sweetheart. Ain’t gon’ be able to do no runnin’ in nine months.”

You rolled your eyes and laughed. “You know I didn’t mean it literally.”

“Yeah, I—”

“Has anyone seen Daryl?”

The sound of Rick’s voice from somewhere in the home cut the archer off. You chuckled and withdrew from his hold, instead offering your hand to him.

“Come on. They noticed you are gone. It’s only a matter of time before they realize I’m gone, too.”

“And what if they question us comin’ back to the party together?” Daryl inquired, but took your hand in his nonetheless and allowed you to lead him from the bathroom.

You shrugged nonchalantly. “I haven’t gotten that far yet.”

Daryl huffed a small laugh. “You’re somethin’ else, y’know that?”

“I am choosing to see that as a compliment.”

[walkingtalkingsomething]

what a precious little mess he is 🤗 i really do love the idea of a daryl who can't handle his liquor

hello dear!! i dont know if your are still taking requests or not, but if do you i would really love to see you write something fluff with a drunk daryl and reader, where he totally forgot that they are dating and just start acting shy and awkward around her, i know its cliche but i really love how you write daryl and think it would be so cute to see something like that written by you😭, but i totally understand if you are busy, i hope you are having a great day!🥰

A drunk Daryl grows uncharacteristically shy around you, forgetting for a moment that you're together.

author notes: I just want to say its not v common for people who are drinking to forget who their s/o's are, but anything for you lolol, enjoy!!! x

thank you for the love!!!

The Alexandria dinner party is louder than usual, laughter spilling out into the quiet night. Someone had insisted on opening the last few bottles of wine, and you watch with amusement as Daryl, leaning against the far wall, swirls the red liquid in his glass like it’s some kind of trap.

“Never took you for a wine guy,” you tease, stepping closer. His eyes dart to yours, and the flush on his face deepens. You figure the alcohol’s working its magic, though Daryl had always been shy about these kinds of things—especially in a crowd.

“Don’t even taste right,” he mutters, setting the glass on a nearby table like it might bite him.

You grin. “Then why drink it?”

He shrugs, glancing at you sideways. The usual ease between you feels a little... off. His gaze flicks to your face, then away again, like he’s avoiding something. You tilt your head, trying to figure out what’s wrong, when his voice breaks the quiet.

“You look real nice tonight.”

The words come out low and shy, almost like he hadn’t meant to say them. You blink, surprised, but before you can respond, he fumbles to add, “Not that ya don’t always, but... I mean, yeah.”

“Daryl,” you say, trying to catch his eye. He’s looking anywhere but at you now, cheeks burning. “Are you okay?”

“‘M fine,” he grumbles, crossing his arms. But the way he shifts on his feet, the nervous way he rubs the back of his neck—it’s not like him. You step closer, studying him, until something clicks.

“Oh my god.” You can’t stop the laugh that bubbles up. “You don’t remember, do you?”

His brows furrow, lips parting in confusion. “Remember what?”

You can’t believe it. “You’re acting like we just met or something.”

Daryl stares at you, his eyes swimming with haze, but he blinks hard, trying to piece it all together. His eyes widen slightly. “Wait... we’re—?”

“Yes, Daryl,” you say, trying to suppress another laugh. “We’re together, at least I thought so,”

The realization hits him like a brick wall. His mouth opens, then closes, and for a second he just stares at you, dumbfounded. “Shit,” he mutters, rubbing a hand over his face. “I—uh... forgot.”

“Obviously,” you tease, stepping even closer until you’re standing right in front of him. “Should I be worried you’re forgetting about me already?”

“Nah,” he says quickly, his voice quiet but insistent. “Just... too much wine. ‘S all.”

You bite your lip, trying not to smile too wide at how bashful he looks. The Daryl you know is rarely this unguarded, and it’s endearing. But as you watch him glance down at you—his face still flushed and his nerves practically visible—you catch something softer in his expression. His hand drifts to the back of his neck again, but this time, a crooked grin follows.

“You’re... somethin’ else,” he murmurs under his breath, almost to himself. “Must be the luckiest som' bitch,”

The words catch you off guard, and warmth blooms in your chest. “Damn right you are,” you say softly, but there’s no teasing in your tone anymore.

His lips twitch, and he finally dares to meet your gaze. “Guess I don’t mind that.”

You smirk, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his cheek. The move makes him freeze for half a second before his face turns a deeper shade of red, but his hand brushes yours in a subtle, almost instinctive gesture. Even drunk, even shy, Daryl Dixon couldn’t hide how much he cared.

“C’mon,” you say, tugging lightly at his hand. “Let’s get you some water before you forget anything else."

[lunajay33]

The Farmers Daughter

•🩷🪽🏹•

Summary: The group finds their way to the Greene families farm and the quiet daughter catches a certain archers attention in more ways than he’d like to admit

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f!reader

Content: Age Gap, PinV, Praise, Sneaking around, Female receiving oral

•Masterlist•

The day the group came to the farm it felt like everything in me changed, they were nice and added a bit of drama to my families lives but they also helped us too

But when I laid eyes on Daryl, seeing him pull up infront of the house on his motorcycle ignited something deep in me that I’ve never felt before

They’ve been here a week already and it already felt like they were part of our family, daddy wasn’t too fond of them at first but he was slowly coming around

As the group went about their daily lives around their little camp I sat with Maggie cleaning some peaches we had just picked as I noticed Daryl walk by his eyes lingering on me the whole time he passed and it made my heart jolt and my legs weak

“He’s too old for you honey” Maggie said next to me as she nudged me with her arm breaking me out of the trance

I shrugged my shoulders not caring much for her input I’m 23 I’m not a child I can make my own decisions

I picked up a clean peach and made my way past the other towards his tent further out, not entirely sure what my plan was but I’m sick of this burning desire that aches for him

As I walk to his little camp I see him sat there around where he’d have fires at night, his eyes caught mine as he looked up at me

“What’re ya doin out here?” I wasn’t one for words much, ever since i was young I didn’t speak much but around him I wanted to tell him everything I was feeling

I bit into my peach and starting walking into the tree line as I wiggled a finger seductively for him to follow me

Not long after I hear his steps crunching leaves, my heart is hammer as I finally stop and lean back against a tree, as I look at him he’s mere inches away I can smell his godly scent that drives me crazy

“It’s dangerous tryna get me all to yerself out in the woods darlin” he groans as he grips my waist

“Maybe I like the danger” I whisper just wanting to taste his lips on mine

“Good ya do things ta me, never felt like this fer no one, just wanna take ya everywhere” his lips trail up my neck sending shivers down my spine

“Please Daryl, it hurts” he laughs

“Show me where Angel” I take his hand and lead it under my little skirt right to my soak panties hearing him groan

“Already wet and haven’t even done nothin”

“Help me” I grind against his hand as he starts rubbing against my clit

“Ya sure ya want this out in the woods?” He says between heated kisses

“I don’t care where I just need you Daryl, I wanna feel you”

“I’ll be gentle with ya”

He gets on his knees and drags down my little skirt as I threw my shirt to the side leaving me in only my tiny white panties with a pink bow on the front

He looks up at me like I hung the moon

“Fuck yer beautiful” he hooks his fingers in my panties and painful slowly pulls them down quickly his mouth is against me, his tongue flicking against my clit as his fingers gently pushed into me, the mix of pain and pleasure was overwhelming but god so good

I run my hand through his hair gripping it as I try to contain my moans and whimpers

“So good oh my god, I’m gonna cum D” he groans and the vibrations send me over the edge as I scream out in bliss

“Taste so good peach” he praises as he whispers in my ear

“I’ve never felt that before” I huff exhausted

“Well I’ve got more in store for us, are ya gonna be a good girl and let me take ya here, right now, on the forest floor”

“Yes please I’ll be good”

He lifts me up and gently lays me down on the cool leaf covered earth and hovers over me

“Take it off” I whine as I push his vest back but he stiffens

“It’s okay if you don’t want to” I say gently and he nods as he slowly kisses me, the whole mood changed from rushed and rough to slow and meaningful

He pushes his pants and boxers down to his knees and leans back down over me, I feel him drag his dick up and down my folds making me crazy

“Please put it in” he grins as he slowly pushes in as I let out a whine, the stretch was exhilarating, he was all around me it was almost hard to focus

“God ya feel so good, ya doing okay” he sighs out as he finally bottoms out

“I’m okay, god we should’ve done this way before, it’s like you were made for me D” he was like an angel sent to me during these horrid times

His thrust start off slow but quickly get faster as he leans back and holds up my hips hitting the right spot to make me see stars

“Oh Daryl right there, oh god” his hand comes down and quickly rubs my clit and that’s when the damn bursts

“That’s its baby, squeeze me so tight, where do ya want me ta cum” he says hurried as he was near

“In me please I wanna feel all of it” soon his cum is deep in me warm as he slowly pulls out feeling that drip down my legs

“Mmmm look at ya yer mine now peach”

I finally had Daryl Dixon and I’m never letting him go

Everything Taglist: @bigbaldheadname @fluffy-dixon @imadisneyprincessiswear

[wannabespacesmuggler]

D.D. | Shane's Girl [9]

Part Nine | Masterlist | Buy me a coffee | Check out the playlist

Summary: Daryl Dixon knows he shouldn’t be thinking about you when he’s alone at night in his tent. Hell, he shouldn’t even be looking at you throughout the day. You’re not his. You’re Shane’s girl. But Daryl doesn’t like the way Shane treats you. And he certainly doesn’t like how you’re forced to play ‘loving girlfriend’ to a man with eyes for another woman at the camp.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x female!Reader

Warnings: Shane Walsh is the worst, angst, realizations, reunions and resurrections, chapter follows "Tell it to the Frogs" but dialogue and events are paraphrased.

Word Count: 1.8K

Author’s Note: I am officially laid off for the winter. I make no promises, but I really want to write more often during my layoff. I'm really happy with this chapter (even though it might feel like a dagger to the heart), but things are really ramping up. Also don't worry, Daryl will reappear in the next one. Now that we've gotten to the show starting, this fic will follow the plot of TWD, but events and dialogue will be paraphrased so as not to simply rewrite episode scripts — hope you guys understand. Let me know what you guys think! Your support and excitement for this fic mean the world to me. Additionally, if I don't post beforehand, happy holidays and merry Christmas (to those that celebrate).

You watch as the sun begins to set from your spot on top of Dale’s RV — mesmerized as the clear blue sky slowly shifts into an array of golden hues. The sight almost makes you forget how much the world has changed — how much everything seems to have changed.  You sigh as you realize how envious you are of your past self. Just a few weeks ago, you were complaining about your boss to Lori, grabbing coffee in between shifts with Shane, and helping Rick with his latest home improvement project. Life was simple and stable. You had a lovely home, a decent job, and a loving boyfriend. Now, well, you’re lucky if there’s enough food at the campfire at the end of the day to feed the entire group.

You tear your eyes away from the sunset and look down at the book in your lap. The very book you attempted to busy yourself with this morning before Shane’s interruption. You haven’t gotten much further, finding yourself distracted by Daryl’s crumpled note that you’ve begun using as a bookmark. You can imagine him scoffing beside you as you reread the simple, messily written words. His brow furrowed in confusion as he tries to decipher what’s troubling you — and he’d read you like a book. You’ll never admit it, but you’ve yearned for his silent, stable presence more than usual today after your conversation with Shane this morning.

The sound of someone climbing the ladder and approaching from behind you pulls you from your thoughts. Your hand instinctively grabs the shotgun beside you as you turn your head toward the sound. Your mind starts anticipating the worst, but you loosen your grip as your eyes meet Dale’s. Dale raises his hands in front of him as he approaches; the gesture is playful, but his features are laced with concern. 

“I come in peace.”

You snort at his words before removing your hand from the shotgun entirely. 

“Sorry, Dale. I was just a thousand miles away.”

Dale hums in response as he takes a seat beside you. The two of you sit in comfortable silence while watching the sunset. You don’t mind Dale’s company. Despite his dislike for Shane Walsh, he’s never treated you differently despite your connection to the deputy. You’ve always appreciated that he sees you as you, not just Shane’s girlfriend — if you can even call yourself that anymore. 

“You’ve been up here for a while.”

“Got nothing else to do, I suppose.”

You shrug nonchalantly before glancing over at Dale. His eyes are still focused on the sunset, but you can tell he’s thinking over his next words. You appreciate how intentional he is with what he says. It reminds you of Daryl in a way. Your hands find their way to the crumpled note again — moving on their own accord.

“I’m just surprised to see you here — thought you’d be in Atlanta. I mean, Glenn wouldn’t shut up about you asking him to show you the ropes when it comes to scavenging.”

A frustrated sigh escapes your lips as you close the book in your lap and toss it to the side. Your eyes do a quick sweep of the camp, ensuring that Shane is not within earshot. 

“Shane decided it was best that I stayed here and helped Lori and Carol with chores.”

Dale lets out a dry laugh at your admission. 

“I didn’t know you needed his permission.”

You meet Dale’s expectant gaze and try to formulate a response, but his sarcastic tone has you floundering. Because as much as you want to assert that you don’t need anyone’s permission, you’ve also become somewhat of a prisoner in your own relationship. You shouldn’t need Shane’s permission to do anything — he certainly doesn’t need yours. And yet, here you are, a shell of your former fiercely independent self. Your shoulders slump at the realization, and your eyes drop to your hands, which are desperately gripping your only lifeline. 

In an act of comfort, Dale moves to cover your hands with his, and you involuntarily flinch away from his touch. Guilt washes over you as Dale pulls his hand away. Logically, you know that Dale would never try to hurt you, but your conversation with Shane this morning has you on edge. You look up at Dale and meet his sympathetic gaze. 

“Dale, I…”

Before you can explain yourself, you’re cut off by a blaring car alarm. Without a second thought, your hands find the shotgun at your side and aim toward the direction the sound is coming from. The once-sleepy camp quickly awakens at the first sign of trouble. You hear countless voices yelling, but one cuts through them all: Shane Walsh.

“Dale, what do you see up there?”

Dale looks to you as you peer into the scope. You can hear the car alarm clear as day, but you’ve yet to see any sign of life through the scope. You shake your head at the older man, keeping your eyes locked on the dirt trail leading up to the camp.

“Talk to me, Dale!”

“We can’t tell yet.”

“What the hell do you mean you can’t tell yet? Just look in the fucking scope, it’s not that hard.”

That sets you off. You don’t know if it’s the edge in Shane’s voice or the condescending tone in which he speaks, but something inside of you snaps at the words.

“I know how to look through a fucking scope, Shane!”

You can hear a low growl rumble through Shane’s chest at your retort, but you keep your gaze steady. You tune out the ensuing chaos: Shane insisting you hand the shotgun over to Dale, Jim attempting to defuse the situation, and Amy incessantly asking if it’s her sister. Dale offers you gentle words of affirmation as you take deep breaths — attempting to steady yourself. And then you see it: a bright red Dodge Challenger with none other than Glenn Rhee at the wheel. You finally pull away from the scope and hand the shotgun over to Dale, who looks at you in astonishment.

“It’s just Glenn.”

Dale takes the shotgun and peers through the scope. He searches for a moment before speaking.

“Well, I’ll be.”

And then the two of you erupt into a fit of laughter — after all, this whole situation is nothing but absurd. Dale pulls himself together just long enough to alert the group of your findings. There’s a collective sigh of relief, and everyone seems to relax until Glenn peels into camp. Glenn climbs out of the sports car and smiles brightly up at you.

“You like it?”

Another laugh escapes your lips as Glenn points at the blaring vehicle beside him. You nod at his words before responding. 

“Love it. You rob a bank along the way?”

Dale interrupts the conversation.

“Can you turn it off, son?”

Glenn’s brow furrows at his question, glancing between the car and the two of you.

“I don’t know.”

Quickly, Shane steps in and starts yelling at Glenn to pop the hood. You and Dale decide to finally descend from the top of the RV and join the rest of the group. When you enter the chaos, the car alarm is finally off, and several other vehicles begin pulling into camp. You smile as you watch reunions unfold before your eyes. Amy pulls her sister into a tight hug before she even has a chance to exit the vehicle fully. Morales’ children race to see who can get to him faster. Dale claps Glenn on the back as the young man excitedly shows off the vehicle they managed to jumpstart.

Deciding to give them all some privacy, you turn to walk back to your tent. Your smile quickly fades as you spot Carl’s saddened expression. His misty eyes scan the crowd, looking for someone who will never return. Your heart breaks as you watch Lori kneel beside him and pull the small boy into a comforting hug. Still, Carl’s gaze doesn’t falter. You lower your head as tears well up in your eyes. You understand.

Shane had told you about what happened at the hospital the first night at camp. You remember sitting beside him in your small tent, your heart breaking as you watch one of the strongest men you’ve ever met crumple due to the loss of his best friend. Setting aside the grief sitting heavy inside of your chest, you spent that whole night comforting Shane until he finally fell asleep. It was only then that you buried silent sobs into your pillow and prayed for the impossible — for your found family to be whole again. 

It isn’t until Morales speaks to the group that you finally look up. Your brow furrows as he explains that a new guy helped them out of the city, so they decided to bring him back with them. It’s been a long time since anyone new joined the quarry camp — Daryl and Merle were technically the newest members, but you’ve all been together for weeks now.

“Hey, helicopter boy! Come say hello.”

Shane plants his hands on his hips looking toward the SUV expectantly as Morales explains that he’s also a police officer. Finally, you see the new guy, and you can’t believe your eyes. Standing before you is Rick Grimes dressed in his signature sheriff’s uniform and cowboy hat. Rick’s eyes meet Shane’s first, and the two stand in silent astonishment until they hear Carl’s small voice.

“Dad?”

Rick’s eyes well up as he finally spots his boy at the back of the crowd.

“Oh, my God.”

Rick hesitates for a second, almost as if he can’t believe this isn’t real. But Carl sprints toward him, with Lori close behind. Tears stream down your face as Carl crashes into his father’s embrace. You look beside you, expecting to see Shane, but you meet Dale’s reassuring eyes instead. Your brow furrows in confusion, and you take a moment to find Shane in the commotion. Surely, he’s as choked up as you — hell, his best friend just came back from the dead. 

But when you spot him leaning against the red sports car at the back of the crowd, watching his best friend tearfully reunite with his wife and son, he looks less like a man who just got his brother back and more like someone who just lost everything. 

You want to be elated at the scene unraveling before. After all, you’ve been dreaming of this moment every night since the world fell apart. But something feels wrong as you watch as Shane lock eyes with Lori over Rick’s shoulder. Lori looks at him apologetically, and Shane’s expression shifts into a mix of anger and disappointment. Confusion washes over your features as you watch the exchange until…

Oh. Oh.

Suddenly, everything makes sense. Every time you couldn’t find Shane in camp only for him to miraculously appear with Lori hours later. Every time you attempted to spend time with him only to be dismissed for something more important. Every time you waited up for him to return to your shared tent, only to fall asleep in a cold, empty cot. 

Taglist: 

Suddenly, everything makes sense — and you feel nothing but a stark hollowness settle into your bones. Because although your found family may be whole again, you’ve never felt more alone.

@minervadashwood

@hotgirlsshareaccounts

@dreamtofus

@youcantstandit

@ajlovesdilfs

@prettywhenibleed

@luvsvnlqt-things

@strnqer

@marina-isabella

@lissanovak

@elissanatok

@luv-4-aria

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@the-valars-sapphire

[dixons-sunshine]

The Bright Side | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Day Sixteen: Snowed In.

A/N: I’m slowly getting caught up on these. Here’s day sixteen! I missed it earlier this week.

“Goddamn walkers,” Daryl grumbled as he shook the snow from his hair, throwing his bag over to a random dusty chair in the abandoned cabin he was forced to take refuge in for the time being.

You couldn’t help but laugh at him, tightening your jacket around you to fight against the chill in the air. “Lighten up, Dar. It could definitely be worse.”

“Yeah? How’s that?” Daryl scoffed, plopping himself down on the armchair in the corner. “M’freezin’ my ass off. We could’a been home by now, but the walkers decided to cut us off from the main roads, and now the snow s’way too thick to see through. We barely made it to this shit hole, and now we’re gon’ be stuck here for god knows how long.”

“Yeah, that’s all true, but on the bright side, there is something else…”

Daryl cocked an eyebrow at you. “Yeah? And what’s that?”

You said nothing. You simply stalked over towards him and straddled his lap, looping your arms around his neck. You chuckled at the way Daryl’s cheeks instantly began heating up, his hands going to rest on your hips.

“Well, since we’re stuck in this place until this blizzard blows over, we finally have a chance to catch up on some…” You leaned down, your lips against his ear. “...alone time.”

Daryl swallowed. His cerulean eyes sparkled as he looked up at you, his chest heaving as his breaths got heavier. “Y’sure know how to make the best out of a shitty situation.”

You smiled at him. “So, what do you say? Ready to make up for lost time?”

The archer eagerly nodded. “Yeah,” he responded gruffly. “Yeah. Sure as hell sounds good to me.”

[walkingtalkingsomething]

What an absolute Dreamland 😍🥰

Almost

Daryl Dixon x Female!Reader

Summary: You and Daryl had been best friends for years. You have had years of unspoken feelings and “almosts”. After leaving the prison and finding a cabin on the way to a supply run, you finally find out if Daryl feels the same way.

You had taken notice of Daryl as soon as you joined the group all those years ago. You saw what seemingly no one had. You had always wondered if he'd ever taken notice of you in the same way. There's been countless times when you go to sneak a glance his way and his eyes are already on you. Endless moments of hands and shoulders brushing ever so slightly against each other, stolen glances at each other's lips, dozens of starry night skies while laying in the damp Atlanta grass. Countless times where you thought an “almost” would become a “finally”.

You snap yourself out of your thoughts because, here the two of you are gearing up at the prison, getting ready for a supply run that would probably take a day and a half to even get to the destination. He looks amazing as his strong arms reach up to close the trunk of the car.

“Ya ready?” he looks over to you curiously as he can probably tell your head is somewhere else.

“Yeah lets get on the road” you say nonchalantly as you round the car and go to open your door. Before your hand can reach the handle Daryl's broad frame quickly comes into view and he reaches out to open the door to the beat up Honda without making eye contact. He's done this before, another overly kind gesture that could possibly mean more and makes your head spin wondering if he actually could feel in some part the same way you do. You smile at the thought and him and get in the car speechlessly, not wanting to create something out of nothing and potentially ruin the friendship you've cherished for years.

He walks over to the driver side door, opens it and gets in. He puts the keys in the ignition and the engine comes to life. The gates slide open for you guys to head out to the main road. The trees pass by along with the occasional walker as you get consumed by your thoughts. The stories you've shared with each other, the secrets. There seemed to be only one thing you couldn't tell this man and it's that you are irrevocably in love with him.

People automatically assume you're together, with all the time you spend together, the way he seems to soften and get comfortable around you, and as Carol likes to call it “the lovesick looks”. According to her, your affections are reciprocated, but you could never dream of making a move until you have full confirmation from him. Your friendship was something you were not willing to put on the line, what you two have means everything in a world like this.

This is torturous. You break the silence.

“You know we're going to have to stop, you can’t drive all night…it's not safe” you say masking your concern for his well being with a priority for safety.

He turns his head to look at you and it almost seems like he's taking you in for a second, his eyes roll up and down your frame and he replies simply, and matter of factly as he turns his attention back to the road

“I'll be fine…” he continues hesitantly “...Yknow id never let anything happen to ya” he looks over once again, he's dead serious and your heart is racing. Is this the moment?

Before you can decide what to say he continues “But if it makes you feel better we can i guess…”. You both start looking for places to stay as you are driving by. You spot an A frame cabin in the distance and lightly shove his shoulder and point in that direction to get his attention. He backs up and pulls off the road. You both step out of the car and instinctively start covering it with branches and bushes.

“Should be good enough, cmon” he says while gesturing forward for you to follow his lead. Something that had been carved out through a lot of bickering over the years. While you follow him up through the trees to the cabin you can't help but notice his broad shoulders, how they've muscled over the years, how they swing while holding his crossbow in one hand. How serious he is about keeping the people he cares about safe. You felt lucky to be included in that circle, and selfish that you wanted more.

You walk up the wooden steps and he turns around to stop you from continuing up with him to the door. He bangs on the frame of the door a few times to gather any attention of walkers while you survey the area for any strays. When he can't hear anything moving inside He goes inside and quickly clears the quaint cabin. He comes back out, naturally bounding down the stairs and says,

“I can't hear nothin movin in there, we’ll stay here. Leave at sunrise.” He says while picking your bag up off the ground and carrying it inside for you without saying another word. You're frozen for a second, your previous thoughts coming to haunt you once again. You quickly snap yourself back to reality and rush up the stairs to catch up and see your abode for the night you.

You take in your surroundings. It's cute. It's a loft style place with a tiny living and dining room as soon as you walk in. With a kitchen a bit further back, the stairs against the wall lead up to a full sized bed that you can see from the door when you first walk in, guarded by a railing.

Besides the dust and panicked “the world is ending” clutter it is very much livable. Something that you'd remember where it is just in case you needed a safe house in the future. You follow Daryl's lead and start looking through cabinets to find something useful before you settle in. There's some leftover canned food in the cupboards and while rummaging through what's good and what's not you feel a slight nudge on your back. You turn and Daryls holding out a book, presumably what you just felt on your shoulder.

“Looks like something you'd like…” He was the most observant person you'd ever met. You told him about this author months ago. He remembered. Why did he remember?

“Thank you…” you say, not being able to help but softly smile at him “...That's really sweet of you…”

His eyes dart between you and the floor seemingly not being able to maintain eye contact with you. Does he feel it now? The heart fluttering, the warmth in your stomach, the rise in heat, the tremble in your throat, legs like jello. You think he might when he goes to say something but simply closes his mouth, turns his eyes towards the floor and almost painfully walks towards the door. He pauses with one hand on the frame and the other with his crossbow. He turns to look over his shoulder and says

“I'll be back, gonna find us somethin to eat…” he says, but there's something in his voice that you're trying to place as the door closes behind him.

Longing.

What if he does feel the same? It's almost as terrifying as if he doesn't. You can't take the not knowing anymore. The “almosts”. An hour or two passes, it's dark now and you're lost in your book as Daryl opens the door, some small game strung over his leather clad shoulder.

He closes the door behind him and stops in front of it, taking in the scene before him. You had started a fire in the small furnace and were curled up with your new gift on the couch. You see him looking over everything and you, like he almost doesn't know what to do next.

“hey…“ you say softly breaking him from the thoughts you could see you could tell were racing behind his eyes.

“Hey” he responds after a second, looking so deeply into your eyes you think you might break right then and there.

All that can be heard is the fire cracking until he sets the small game down and walks towards the old couch that you're sitting on. It creaks as he plops down beside you and the couch dips so you're even closer than you think intended. He kicks his boot clad feet up onto the small table in front of the couch and actually lounges back. He breathes deep and is seemingly relaxed, something that you consider rare for him. You take him in, he looks amazing, strong arms folded behind his head which is laid back, his broad body trails down to his crossed feet on the table. He's immaculate.

“Tell me bout it…” you almost miss what he says as you're too busy checking him out when he continues amidst your silence. “Your book… tell me about it”

You immediately beam a smile at him, ecstatic that he would actually care to hear about something you like so much. You begin delving in with as much detail as you could spare. He is looking at you so sincerely and contently, the moment is filled with such warmth you could explode. One hand is now stroking his chin as he listens intently to every word, soaking up every syllable you say. His eyes are all over you.

“...And that's all I've got so far, i can't wait to finish it” you say taking a deep breath from the monologue you just went on and look from your book to him with a smile. He's looking at you with that look again.

Longing.

Your knee brushes against his outstretched leg and you swear you feel actual sparks. Your eyes flicker down and then back up to see he has not relented his gaze in the slightest

“What is it?” you say.

He shrugs you off with a grunt. You put your book on the table and face your entire body towards him. Knees brushing against him once again. Trying to show that he has your full attention and it isn't going anywhere. You match his eyes and say

“c'mon … we always tell eachother everything” his mouth is slightly agape and you can see his chest rising and falling deeply almost as if he's nervous despite his still relaxed position on this small couch.

He shifts slightly but his gaze doesn't falter.

“You look nice today…” he says lowly and then continues “you always look nice… i jus dont say it enough…” your breath is taken away in that very moment. You can't tell if this is real right now.

“You do too..” you say barely above a whisper, absolutely breathless. This is when he turns his attention to the furnace, you swear you saw a slight blush tinge up his neck to his cheeks. He takes an audibly deep breath and stands. He looks over to you once again and says

“We should get some shut eye, got a long day tomorrow…” You're stunned. If that wasn't the moment then maybe there would never be one. “... I'll take the couch, you take the bed”

You're snapped back into reality once again

“Why don't we share it? I mean we're both adults, besides how often do you get to sleep in a bed that isn't behind bars” you say with a chuckle trying to mask the pang in your chest at another “almost”.

He's stunned in his place at the proposition and you're thinking that maybe you crossed the line when he lets out a simple

“...Sure”

He looks at you hesitantly but follows you up the stairs and you each take a seat on either side of the bed. Now it seems both of you don't know what to do and you're starting to think that maybe this was a bad idea. You take the lead and slowly lay on your back so close to the edge the wind could probably blow you off. He follows your lead and does the same and you're both laying there staring at the ceiling on your backs as the light from the fire flickers on the angled ceiling above you.

Even with you both doing your best to give each other space his broad shoulder is brushing against yours and you feel his pinky graze yours. You suck in for air unable to catch your breath from this innocent touch.

When suddenly you feel his warm, rough hand enclose over your own.

Both of your heads slowly turn to face one another. You're both searching each other's eyes for something.

Permission.

His eyes land on your lips. You realize this is the moment. His eyes meet yours again and you scoot closer to him. Your faces are now inches apart. His chest is rising and falling deeply once again, he's nervous but he lifts his head and moves himself closer so now your lips are only inches apart. You lean your forehead against his and bring a hand up to rest on his cheek. You run your thumb along his lips and swear you feel him shudder beneath your touch. His eyes are darting across your face searching for any hesitation.

“Ya sure?” he says quietly and gravelly. Almost desperately.

“Yes..” You say immediately, breathlessly, and full of certainty. “...Are you?” you continue

“Have been for a while now…” He says while leaning in to lock your lips.

The kiss is soft and hesitant. His slightly chapped lips mold with yours perfectly. You're both testing the waters of something long unspoken. His hand moves to the back of your head , pulling you as close as possible, threading his fingers through your hair as he does. For a second your mind flashes with all the “almosts” and when you pull back for the air you desperately needed you see your “finally” in his eyes. You're both absolutely breathless and buzzing from each other's touch.

He leans his forehead against yours and shuts his eyes for a second almost as if to process what's unfolding before him and says

“I thought this was something i couldn't have… that i didn't deserve.” he opens his eyes and the vulnerability that's there is a rare sight, something you know he doesn't share easily. He looks at you so longingly and dare you say lovingly that you can feel your heart stutter.

You shake your head vehemently in absolute disbelief over his words and raw honesty. You slide your hand that was on his cheek to his strong chest and feel his heart beating beneath your palm. It's steady but fast.

“Ya better than all this, better than me … i know that” He says as his lips twitch into a faint, almost sheepish smirk. He momentarily averts his head and eyes to the ceiling. You move your hand back to his cheek and softly turn his face to look at you again.

“You don't get to decide that…” You say while stroking his cheek and pushing his hair out of his eyes. “You've been everything to me for so long. I don't care what kind of world we're in. I want you. Just you.” You whisper the last part against his lips. He breathes deeply in for air desperately trying to fill his lungs back up with air from the girl who stole it from him. He’s utterly taken with what you just said, what he desperately needed to hear from you for years. He's never felt or had love like this. It's almost overwhelming for him. His eyes have a gloss to them and they say everything that you've been needing from him for years.

He softly and slowly grabs your waist to turn you from your back, to your side to face him and he does the same so you're fully pressed into his wide, strong chest. Your legs tangle together and of all the times you both had dreamed of this moment, this is somehow better.

[ffsjustletmesleep]

Silent Bonds: Chapter Two.

(divider by @kodaswrld)

> Chapter One

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of gore, mentions of abuse, fighting? (I feel like I skipped a bit of stuff but I didn't feel the need to write all of it since no one else does)

You didn't know when you had fallen asleep, but you were aware you did once you woke up to the sound of people arguing; you sat up and rubbed the grogginess from your eyes before you got up, grunting softly and peeking out through the flaps of your tent, looking around the camp for the commotion. Your eyes landed on Andrea as she stood before Carol, talking back to Ed as he tried to get Carol to go with him.

You got up from your sleeping bag and walked outside your tent, running a hand through your hair as you walked over to them. "What's going on here??" you asked as you stood next to Andrea and Carol, looking over at Amy and Jacqui before looking at Ed. "Is there a problem, Ed?" you asked as you looked at him, eyebrows furrowing with annoyance.

Ed looked at the five of you and scoffed as he shook his head. "You know what? This ain't none of y'all business," he said as he shifted. "Yall don't wanna keep prodding the bull here, okay? Now I'm done talking. Come on." he continued as he grabbed Carol's arm, pulling her along. As the four of you tried to console Carol, Ed turned around and snapped, yelling and slapping her across the face. 

"Ed, what the fuck?!" You shouted as you shoved him, Amy and Jacqui pulling her away as you and Andrea yelled at Ed. Before you knew it, Shane strode over and pulled him away from you guys, shoving him to the ground and punching him in the face. Carol gasped and covered her mouth as you all stood and watched him, yelling at him to stop before he pulled Ed up close.

"You put your hands on your wife, your little girl, or anybody else one more time. I will not stop next time, do you hear me??" he pointed in his face as he glared at him, Ed slurring in agreement as Shane punched him one last time before getting up and walking away. Carol ran over to him as she cried and apologized. You stood there watching Shane walk off, putting your hands on your hips. "Jesus Christ.." you muttered.

—--

Daryl, Rick, Glenn, and T-Dog got to the building' where they had left Merle, fighting their way through walkers before making their way up the stairs. "Merle! Merle!" Daryl shouted as they made it to the roof. Rushing over to see where he was, his stomach dropped as he looked over at the piece of metal Rick had handcuffed Merle to, seeing his hand on the floor. Daryl shifted on his feet and bit his lip as he cried out. "No!"  taking a few steps, he paced around, looking away. His cries of denial continued to ring in the air, breathing heavily before turning around and pointing his crossbow at T-Dog; Rick immediately pointed his gun at Daryl. 

They stayed silent for a few moments before Rick spoke up. "I won't hesitate. I don't care if every walker in the city hears it," he muttered as he stared at Daryl. Daryl bit his lip as he felt his emotions building up, quickly swallowing them down as he stepped away. He looked at T-Dog quietly before speaking up. 

"Got..got a do-rag or somethin'?" he asked. T-Dog fished a rag from his pants pocket and handed it to him. Daryl snatched it from his hands and made his way over to Merle's hand, picking it up, wrapping it in the rag, walking over to Glenn, putting it in his backpack, and following the blood trail as the men followed behind him, making their way back downstairs. "Merle?? You in 'ere???"  Daryl called out as they made their way downstairs. 

They looked around and saw a few walkers on the floor as they walked through the building. "Had enough in 'em to take out these two sumbitches. One-handed," he muttered as he looked down at the bodies, putting his crossbow down to reload it. "Toughest asshole I ever met, ma' brother," he continued as he picked his crossbow up before they continued walking.

—--

After night had settled, you made your way over to the campfire after sorting out your clothes in the tent, ensuring everything you had was put away. You had planned to leave in the morning with Daryl and his brother when they got back; as much as you loved the rest of the group, you knew they weren't gonna let Merle stay with the rest of them. And if Merle wasn't staying, then neither was Daryl, and neither were you. You had tried hard to find him before and weren't about to let him go again.

You sat down near Carol and smiled at her, taking the plate she handed you with a small "thanks" before you started to eat, humming in delight as your tastebuds danced happily. Everyone laughed and ate around the fire as they talked about Dale's watch. You put your plate down and got up so Amy could use the bathroom.

"I think I'm gonna head to bed now. Have a good night, you guys. Don't be too loud," You teased with a smile before you retreated to your tent with a sigh. You tossed your crossbow on the blanket before you sat down and tampered with it, biting your lip as you brushed your fingers against the small engraved 'D' on the side. As you were about to get ready for bed, you heard screaming; your head shot up as you grabbed the crossbow once more and ran out of your tent, looking around as everyone ran or fought back at the walkers who were entering the camp.

You aimed at one of them and pierced its skull with your bolt before tugging it out of the walker's head and catching up with the others as you fought off the dead. As you were about to shoot at one of the walkers, a bolt shoots by and takes it down. Looking around, you spot Daryl running over with Rick and the other two, nodding over to him, you turn around and take care of the ones behind you, Daryl staying close to you as everyone helps bring down the horde. Daryl looked at you once everything was clear, his eyes filled with uncertainty before everyone looked at Andrea, kneeling over her sister Amy and crying.

The next morning, everyone started taking care of the bodies; Andrea didn't move an inch from her sister, staying there all night and staring at her as if she had no thought left. You pulled your knife out and helped dispose of the walkers left over. Looking over at Daryl as he stabbed their heads with a pickaxe before moving on to the next. With a soft sigh, you followed him, watching Lori go over to speak with Andrea. You looked back at Daryl and reached out to touch his arm.

"Hey, did you find Merle?" You asked as you watched him tense at your touch for a moment before crushing another walker's head. "No, no, I didn't," he muttered as he looked at you, a frown on his face."  He's alive, out there somewhere, dumbass cut off his fuckin' hand to get out of them cuffs, cauterized the nub." he scoffed as he bit the inside of his cheek. You looked at him surprised and huffed.

"Gross..but he knew you were coming for him; maybe he thought the walkers would get him, so he did what he thought was best." You rubbed his arm gently and smiled. "It's Merle, Daryl. He's not gonna die out here, he was made for this world." you laughed softly, earning a slight smirk from him. Daryl nodded as he looked back down at the walker. "Yeah, guess yer right.." he pulled your hand from his arm and squeezed it. "Yer alright, right? Didn't get bit or nothin?"  he asked as he looked back at you before letting your hand go.

You shook your head as you smiled. "If I did, I don't think I'd be standing here talking to you now, would I?" you snorted and wiped the sweat from your forehead, seeing Daryl smile before he started walking back. "Yeah, shut up.." he muttered as you followed behind him. Standing off to the side, you watched him carry the bodies and yell at the others. You shook your head and sighed as you frowned, covering your face with your hand at his temper.

You followed Daryl around and helped him drag the bodies of your deceased groupmates, whining softly as some blood splattered on you when Daryl dropped it with the others. "Daryl, you got it all over me!" you growled as you looked up at him. He looked over at you and snorted as he reached over and wiped the blood off your face with his shirt. 

"Not ma' damn fault you was in the way, Sunshine," he smirked and looked at you; you blushed slightly at the feel of his hand and shook your head, nipping his side with your fingers. "Was not!" you stuck your tongue out. He let out a grunt at the pinch. "Alrigh' that's it," he muttered, turning you around before picking you up and lifting you over his shoulder. "Yer done." he carried you over to the pile of bodies and pretended to drop you on top of them. 

You gasped as you grasped his shirt tightly and whined. "No, no, no, Daryl, don't you dare!." Daryl laughed and dropped you over his shoulder, but stopped to catch you by your waist and set you down on the ground. "I ain't gon' do that, why yer always thinkin' the worst of me?" he looked down at you with a smile. You looked up at him as you huffed, smacking his chest and smiling back. "You're an idiot, Dixon," you muttered as you turned away to help Carol with Ed, unaware that Daryl had his eyes on you as you walked away.

—--

Everyone was on the road after a few hours of planning and paying your respects to those who didn't make it. Rick had decided that everyone would go and check the CDC. You planned to ride in the RV with the kids, but Daryl told you he wanted you to ride with him, so here you were, sitting in the passenger seat of his truck and following behind the RV in a comfortable silence between the two of you. You glanced at Daryl and bit your bottom lip before breaking the silence. 

"I feel like I haven't been in this truck since forever.." You murmured as you looked around it, smiling. Daryl looked over at you for a minute before he looked back at the road, scoffing. "Yeah, right, you were in 'ere like two weeks ago.." he muttered as he drove. You frowned as you shook your head. "Not the point, asshole.." you crossed your arms and turned towards the window, frowning. You heard Daryl let out a small snort as he continued to drive.

After you all made it to the CDC, you stepped out of Daryl's truck carefully, looking around as you followed the group down the street to the entrance of the building. You stepped over the rotten bodies of walkers that smelled worse than anything you've ever smelled in your life—well, other than Daryl, of course. It immediately made you cover your nose, gagging. Daryl was behind you, watching for any signs of danger, and the smell did not even affect him.

Once everyone made it to the entrance, Rick and Shane tried opening the door, pushing and pulling on it, and then pounding on it out of luck. T-Dog was panting as he spoke. "There's nobody here," he said as he looked at Rick. Rick turned to look at them as he looked at T-Dog. 

"Then why are these shutters down?" Rick asked as he looked back over towards the door. Daryl turned around as he put you behind him, announcing that there were walkers as he shot one. You turned as you pulled your crossbow out and helped him. "You led us into a graveyard!" Daryl shouted at Rick angrily as he grabbed your arm and pulled you close with them to the door. Shane shoved Daryl back as he yelled at Rick; you pulled Daryl close as you watched the walkers begin to close in on you. 

Between the sound of Rick yelling at the camera on the door and everyone trying not to panic, you wouldn't have heard the door open if there wasn't a bright light shining out at all of you; you raised your hand over your eyes as you looked over at the door, Daryl's hand tightened on your arm as he pulled you closer, putting you in front of him. You looked up at him questioningly before he pushed you forward, pushing you inside of the building as everyone else followed suit, not caring at the moment at the danger that could become of the place; the only thing he cared about was making sure you were inside and safe.

Thank you for reading Silent Bonds: Chapter Two. Sorry it took so long! I hope you guys enjoyed it. I spent a long time on this one watching the show back and forth lol <3

Taglist: @dixons-sunshine, @missriddle03, @imadisneyprincessiswear, @raddydaddydude, @lunajay33, @trainboom, @l0kilaufeys0n7

[kimjun]

girls are like “I want a boyfriend” but reject everyone because none of them are their comfort characters

[corvidcrossbow]

~•♡•~ I Like It Long

➳ Summary: While out on a run, you and Michonne start lightly teasing Daryl for having his hair grown out. But there's a hidden reason as to why he won't cut it. (Daryl x Fem!Reader)

➳ Setting: Alexandria, post Savior war

➳ Word count: 1.4k

➳ C/W: Just smut n hair pulling

➳ A/N: This spawned from me writing the context plot of another fic and I was like… wait (And thank yall for the attention on that Mother's Day post??? Yall are so sweet 😭🫶)

My hair is really similar to Daryl's when it's partially or almost dry and it's actually my favorite thing about myself like xbsosjdjdneisnsiasjebeiisjabajissn

You loudly banged your forearm against the glass door of a long abandoned drug store, not hearing any noise inside. Vines and weeds had grown through cracks in the concrete, winding up the sides of the building.

“Sounds pretty clear,” You shrugged, holstering your bow and opting for hand-held blades as Michonne pulled open the handle. You, her, and Daryl were clearing through a nearby town while out on a supply run, opting to make quick work of the task in favor of getting home.

You three entered the building, keeping your guard up in case of any straggling walkers that weren't roused by the initial attempts to lure them towards you. The interior wasn't large, so you could comfortably split off from each other and still be close.

“Seems mostly ransacked. Not much left,” Michonne commented, katana lowered but out in front of her. This had begun to grow repetitive and boring, energy matching the grayness of the lighting.

She took a pair of hair cutting shears off the shelf in front of her, holding them up to your gaze a few isles over. “Think he could use these?” She asked as a smile played the edges of her mouth, nodding back towards Daryl, looking for mischief. His hair had grown quite long over the course of the last two years, the tawny blond darkening into a rich brown, accompanied by a shaggy cut.

“Oh definitely. Jus’ gotta determine which onna us can hold him down long enough to cut it,” You replied with a chuckle, eyes following hers to where the archer stood at the endcap of another lane.

“Shuddup, will ya?” Daryl scoffed, shaking his head with grunt. His gaze didn't break from the advertisement in front of him, trying to ignore your antics. “Ts'fine.”

“Gotta make use of whatever supplies we find, no?” You continued your teasing, trying to hide the grin on your face at his reaction. “You were sweatin’ like a pig all summer, hair tangled all over yer face ‘n what not. When was the last time you cut it?”

“Don’ kno’, don’ care,” He grumbled, and you eyed Michonne again. It's definitely been since the prison, at least. He moved on from the stand. “Plus, winter up ‘ere's gon be colder. Will keep me warm.”

“Daryl, you're ‘bout the only one who didn't freshen up since we got to Alexandria. Don't you at least want a trim?” Michonne pestered, raising her eyebrows at him and shifting her weight to one leg. “You remember Rick's whole hobo-beard.”

“Ain't got no ‘hobo-beard’.”

“But you do look like the only ‘scissors’ you know is the recently searched on your go to porn site,” Michonne chaffed, barely able to contain herself.

Daryl froze for just a second, face flushing as his head whipped to stare back at her. And you two burst out laughing, to which his expression soured.

“Give it up, alrigh’?! Ain't nothin�� wrong with mah hair!” He snapped, accent thick with embarrassment, bowing his head slightly in an effort to obscure it. He readjusted his hold on his crossbow. “Gon shoot tha botha ya.”

“Ay, ay! Jus’ sayin’. Rick scrapped the beard and… maybe you'll finally get some play too,” She winked, followed by a lighthearted snicker.

Daryl groaned again and rolled his eyes, beginning to walk off, but caught your gaze for just a second.

It's not that he didn't want to cut his hair - he didn't care about it – but he wasn't really allowed to either way. There was one major, sexy, moaning reason he didn't cut his hair.

❥-》》—————➣

“Oh, god, Daryl! Fuck! Don't stop… god don't stop,” You cried out, hands clutching his shoulders as your nails began to dig into his flesh. His grip on your hips was bruising, keeping you steady as he pounded up into you at a relentless pace. That grip was the sole thing grounding you in the reality of the present moment.

“Ain't gon stop,” He affirmed, voice gravelly. You moaned wildly, head weakly falling to his chest with exacerbated breaths, his own heaving against your temple. He leaned closer when he could, harshly sucking at your clavicle and boobs, leaving behind a litter of hickeys and little bites that colored you in reds and purples.

The springs of the bed beneath you sounded like they were gonna fold in on themselves, headboard sporadically banging against the wall as Daryl shifted down a little to hit into you at an angle, your clit brushing against him with each thrust. Your back arched overtop of him, shoving his dick into your belly.

“Baby, please… fhuuuckkkk.” You couldn't even think, every thought consumed by the feeling of him. The way he just destroyed you like it's an art he'd mastered, tip brushing against every sweet and sensitive spot inside you, walls desperately trying to cling on, balls hitting up against you, clit grinding on him, slickness coating his pelvis and your inner thighs, his clutch on you just so fucking strong.

You pulled yourself together, lifting your head to see him. His long hair was dark and dampened with sweat, matting up as it stuck to his forehead, obscuring part of his vision. But he was too focused on using you to fix it, didn't dare to remove his hands unless God willed him to.

You moved up, swiping it away, and his blue eyes instantly connected with yours, pupils blown with lust. He (somehow) sped up, starting to slam your hips up and down to meet him instead of just keeping them stationary, now just beating your cunt.

“Tha's it girl. Jus’ keep takin’ me good like tha’.”

His words made you shiver, and you partially fell forward again, nestling your face beside his and snaking an arm behind his head. Your fingers weaved through his messy hair, tangling at the scalp, then tugging harshly as another wave of pleasure ripped through you.

And he whined. There it is. His breathy gasps and grunts mingled with strained whines, and whimpers, as you pulled tighter and tighter at the roots of his locks. His face contorted, eyes nearly squeezing shut, that one vein bulging from his neck, directly on the verge of so much.

“Daryl… inside.., Dar-” You panted, cut off as everything went white and you hit your peak. Your whole body felt electrified, tensing, twitching, walls spasming, toes curling and claws clinging to his frame.

Daryl tipped over the edge almost immediately after, having just been waiting for you to cum first. He desperately pumped into you a few more times, before curving up once more and simultaneously ramming you down as he came deep in you, the warmth of his release spreading through your core, and he threw his head back with ragged breaths.

You were both left a sweaty mess, gasping for oxygen, feeling full and satisfied. Your muscles couldn't keep you up, and you collapsed onto him, loosening your hold at his scalp, his hold on your hips doing the same.

He recovered a bit quicker than you, bringing a hand up and brushing your own messy hair away the second he had the energy to do so.

“Ya alrigh’, sunshine?” He asked between hitches, hoping he hadn't been too rough. He soothingly rubbed his palm over the curve of your body where bruises were sure to form.

You nodded faintly, moving your head so you could breathe better, and you could feel him relax beneath you from the reassurance. He held you tenderly for a while, giving you time to regain your composure. Your eyes were closed in bliss. Few things beat the feeling of Daryl under you, rising and falling with his torso, hearing his low humming as he steadied himself – his softening cock still buried deep inside you, cum ever so surely beginning to dribble down.

You lazily remained in his arms, not wanting to deal with getting up, or the shower you two definitely needed. You took a strand of his hair, affectionately curling it around your finger like a tendril, then letting it go and repeating.

“Ya actually want me tah cut ma hair?” He eventually asked, thinking back to your light mocking from earlier, how you'd laughed as Michonne layered it on. It didn't matter much to him, he'd do whatever pleased you.

“Fuck no. Was just messin’ with you, Dixon,” You replied, kissing the skin of his collarbone right below you, and moving up to find his lips. “You know I like it long.”

The long hair suited him, he looked good with it. You loved to wash and play with it, brush and braid it while he laid in your lap. But mainly, it was easy to grab at, pull on – and close to nothing in existence sounded better than those whines and whimpers every time you did so.

©corvidcrossbow 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified or adapted to other platforms. My work may be translated only if asked and with proof of given consent.

[walkingtalkingsomething]

the perfect thing to send you off to sweet dreams 😊

"Like gravity." Daryl Dixon Imagine.

@fluffy-dixon: Okay, so this is my request. Maybe prison era? Daryl and OC became quite close during their time at the Quary as she was one of the only people (obvs minus Carol) that checked in on him, spoke to him, spent time with him etc and actually cared about him. She was a bit of an outcast as well. But when they get to the prison they have a little bit more time to settle down and actually become a thing, daryl is utterly in love with her but is too afraid to say but he takes her out hunting and while they're hunting he comes accross some rabbits that he wants to kill for food but she won't let him because she used to keep rabbits herself and the thought of it broke her heart but he let's it slip that he loves her because he says something along the lines of, 'god damnit woman, if I didn't love you so much they'd be cooking in a stew' or something like that. Take of it as you will but yeah ❤️

Hi, love! You are my first request and it was soooo sweet I loved writing it! I really, really hope this comes a little closer to what you had in mind. If not, I'm sorry :c But thank you so much♥

A/N: I laughed a little writing Merle even though he's also an idiot haha ​​but spoiler alert: Merle telling Daryl that he should marry you or fuck you or both made me laugh. I borrowed a scene from Carol and Daryl too hehe. Hope you like this!

When a woman is in love, you can see it in her smile. When a man is in love, you can see in his eyes.

Daryl’s eyes, they spoke so loudly the words he was so afraid to say. But now, they couldn't hide that sparkle of hope every time he saw you. If you could ask him when he started looking at you differently, he would tell you it was the first time you sat down next to the bonfire he and his brother made, too overwhelmed to be around so many people in the camp outside the city.

It happened the moment it started raining pretty heavily, when Merle began to curse the sky before locking himself in his tent. That was the first time Daryl heard your laugh since he met you: a sweet, innocent sound full of colors in that grey world. For a minute, you were too immersed in your own happiness, looking up at the night sky, a hand outstretched to feel the raindrops. But the moment you looked back at him, he shifted his gaze to the arrow he was carving with his knife, because the way you looked at him was almost overwhelming for Daryl, so deep as that color of your gaze.

You were a sweet thing to look at, but the more you talked with each other, the more he saw different facets of you.

The first time you actually talked, you told him to fuck off, and Daryl could say that was one of his favorite moments with you. It happened when he went back from hunting, with some squirrels in his bag, and he saw you a little bit far from the main group, pulling a pack of cigarettes from your black jeans.

You didn’t notice that he was looking at you, with a confused expression but with a deep gaze, as if you were the most difficult puzzle to put together. Daryl never liked riddles, those mind games, and you looked exactly like them, too difficult to understand at first glance.

“Care to share?” Daryl asked you when he stopped next to you, so you gave the package to him. “I’m Daryl, by the way.”

“(Y/N).” You said, simply.

Daryl couldn’t help but snort as he lit a cigarette, because it was his nature to repel anything that seemed soft, tender, weak in his eyes, almost like your name.

“That’s a princess name, y'know?”

However, to his own surprise, you chuckled.

“Fuck you, Daryl. I didn’t ask for your opinion on my name.”

But your voice full of boldness telling him fuck you made him chuckle too: a low, masculine sound, but transparent as Daryl pushed the smoke away before looking at you.

“What's on the menu tonight?” He asked, nodding towards the group.

You took the cigarette from your lips, pushing the smoke out before talking.

“Canned beans, just like yesterday and probably tomorrow and for the rest of our lives.”

For a moment, as you looked straight ahead, analyzing always the situation you were in, Daryl watched you sideways, taking in everything: at first sight, there was this fierceness in your gaze but that seemed to be compassionate too, with a free attitude but that seemed to analyze everything. You seemed to be a rebellious soul, almost as lost as he was.

“Have ya ever tried squirrels?” Daryl asked softly, kind of awkward. You looked at him, shaking your head. “I'm cookin’ ‘em if ya want to join us.”

He started walking towards his own camp when you talked again.

“You don’t hunt rabbits, do you?”

Daryl turned around, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“Why?”

It was stupid, you knew, so you just shook your head.

“It's nothing. I think I'll accept your invitation, so thank you.”

Too confused, Daryl nodded before walking again, so he missed the way you looked at him this time. You could notice the beautiful color of his eyes behind that mocking, condescending expression on his almost stupid but very attractive face. A few strands of his hair, dark blonde or almost brown, fell over his forehead, framing that deep but accusatory look he had for everybody. His shoulders were broad, and although he didn’t look like a person who flaunted himself, his sleeveless shirt didn’t leave much to the imagination when you could see the muscles in his arms.

It was the end of the world, the beginning of a new one, but that didn't mean you had gone blind.

However, the next thing that happened with Merle, must have given Daryl some clue as to the feelings he would develop for you in the future, because the moment you reached his camp that night, Merle was alone.

“Well, well, ain’t ya a beauty?” Merle smiled and looked at you up and down, practically eating you up with his eyes. “Ma baby brother said he invited ya, but I didn’t think ya would come to him, not when I am the good-lookin’ one.” He came closer, slowly and dangerously. “Ya got a name, darlin’?”

“(Y/N).” The women and men in the camp warned you about Merle Dixon, but you managed to smile at him, playing with fire even when you knew you could get hurt. “Don’t tell this to Daryl but you are the good-looking one.”

He smiled, he couldn’t just help it, wildly like a predator when the animal knew in its gills that it was about to capture the prey.

“Ya really look like a refined woman, darlin’, If I feed you squirrels too, would ya moan ma name at the end of the night? I promise I will make you beg for more.”

You raised an eyebrow, looking at him, but before you could answer back, Daryl walked back from the woods.

“Merle, for once in yer life, shut the fuck up.”

However, Merle found that even extra funny, and he kept walking towards you. But you knew well that the first to look away in the staring game loses, so you, without any fear in your eyes, waited until Merle was close enough, and at that moment, you caught the handle of the gun that was hidden at the back of your waist, under your black cardigan, and then, your pressed it to Daryl’s asshole brother’s chin.

Merle held his breath, unlike his baby brother who found the situation strangely attractive, and kind of hot too.

“I’m begging you now, Merle, please repeat everything you just said. I promise you that before you finish saying the last word, you will run out of a mouth and jaw to say it.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat, because he was an idiot, yes, but even Merle Dixon knew when to back off at the threat of a bullet, which came from a person who really seemed determined to do it.

“I was just kiddin’ with ya, sweetheart.” He tried to laugh, but his smile trembled at the cold of the gun. “Ya wouldn’t do that to your new friend Merle.”

You chuckled, pulling away the gun.

“I am normally a sweetheart, Merle, but I am also the person capable of sinking the fucking ship with myself inside just so that no one is saved. You know what I mean by that?”

He nodded, clearing his throat so his words wouldn’t break off mid-sentence.

“Guess ya are ma brother’s new friend?”

You looked back at Daryl, who was looking at you with a frown (something normal now for you), but also with an amused expression.

Then, you looked back at Merle.

“Something like that.”

“Well… welcome to our lovely home, darlin’!” Merle smiled, after taking a silent deep breath of relief, and then, he looked at his brother. “You got to fuck or marry this woman, baby brother, or both. Condoms are on my tent!”

He laughed walking to the woods, and that was disgusting and it made you wonder, where the hell did you got yourself into?

But things from there, were like a roller-coaster going only up. You and Daryl were like an unlikely duo, but maybe that was why you both looked good together. Despite the danger, you two found a new world in which you wanted to continue living, delving into the unknown that was falling in love.

The moment the family you made reached the prison, that gave you two a safe place to, start a thing, you could say.

During one of the first months and when your sleeping world turned red like bright blood, you came out to see the stars from the front of the prison. So you sat there, in an old desk, with your legs falling from the edge and a dead feeling in the depths of your soul.

From afar, Daryl watched you with a cigarette in between his lips. By that moment, Daryl already knew what name to give to his feelings for you, but although he was an excellent hunter, he was also too shy to accept that revelation. However, it was the way your eyes used to look at everything that caught him from the beginning: always with attention, always thinking what was best for your safety and what would keep you alive. But also the way your gaze seemed to rest from that life, from pain and fear, and then all that force disappeared when you used to look for something better, something meaningful.

Like gravity, you became the person who kept him standing on the ground.

Daryl blew out the smoke from his cigarette, watching you as he walked towards you. What you were caught him in a way that should never have happened. But your strongest side and your weakest one, the good and the bad that could be in you: he found himself looking in your direction all the time since he met you, always aware of where you were inside and outside the prison, always stuck to you like a lost puppy as Carol used to say.

“Hey…” He said softly, in a deep, hoarse voice as he sat next to you. “Shouldn’t ya be sleepin’?”

You smiled gently at him, enough to brighten your eyes.

“Shouldn’t you?”

And there it was, the way you sounded like a worried girlfriend. Fuck, Daryl loved that, Daryl loved you. But there he was: feeling too much for you, or maybe feeling too little for a life that deserved to be lived to the end.

“I don’t sleep.”

You looked at him with a curiosity expression.

“You dream too much?” You asked. Daryl frowned at you, not because he was upset, but confused that you knew exactly the reason behind his sleepless nights. “When I was a baby and I couldn’t sleep, my mom used to caress my hair so softly that I felt sleepy quickly. Do you want me to do that to you?”

You were joking, kind of, but you knew your words would only make him shy as he snorted.

“I ain’t a fuckin’ baby.”

You chuckled.

“Fuck you, Dixon. I was just trying to be nice.”

However, Daryl looked at you with a frown, and an almost exasperated expression.

“Woman, almost every day ya curse at me. I don’t know how I let ya kiss me with that mouth.”

His words made you laugh, and Daryl would be lying if he said that wasn't his favorite sound in the whole world.

“I do that because you deserve it.” You chuckled, taking the cigarette from his fingers to take a blow, looking at the stars as an idea came to your mind. “Now that we are awake, you wanna screw around while everyone is asleep?”

You tried to hold back your laughter as he looked back at you, thanking the night that you didn't see his ears starting to turn red at your bluntness. 

“Ya could ask me nicely. Y’know?” 

You rolled your eyes as you jumped out of the desk, walking back to the door.

“Fine. If you are not in the mood, I will go back to sleep. Goodnight.”

The painful truth revealed in front of Daryl’s eyes, and it was more frightening than being near death, but more exciting than… Daryl couldn’t compare that feeling with anything else, because he never loved anyone until you came along.

But as Daryl walked towards you, he couldn’t say it, not yet.

“Fuck, wait. I didn’t say I don’t want to do it.”

But what a great feeling that pressure on his chest was. It was sweet and kind of terrifying at the same time, so real and unreal at the same time. It was like a dream where he could feel everything, but wanting to stay in that place if it meant living there with you.

The next day, after everyone received their assignments, Daryl took you hunting with him: that was his silent way of saying he wanted to be alone with you. He was always a quiet person, but while been there with you, Daryl asked you question after question because he wanted to hear long answers, to know more and more about you.

“Ya got a favorite color?” He asked, walking side to side with you, attentive to your words but also to everything around, crossbow in hand to catch the day's food.

“Well…” You bit your lips as you chuckled. You never had a favorite color before, but the night he invited you to eat with him, it seemed like that blank space was always reserved for the color of his eyes. “Blue, I guess. You?”

Strangely, Daryl wanted to say the same thing about your eyes, but when a sound in the bushes caught his attention, he asked you to be quiet as he walked in front of you. His steps were light, but you stayed close to him the moment Daryl pushed the branches aside.

Two little white rabbits froze there, too terrified to move.

“I got us the food.” He said, raising his crossbow.

It took you a single second, and you knew it was wrong, but sometimes feelings were stronger than good judgment.

“No, wait!” You stopped him before he shot them, making him turn to you. “Please, don’t. Just, fuck…” You cursed under your breath, feeling like a little girl again. “The night you invited me to eat those squirrels, I asked you if you hunted rabbits, remember?” He nodded. “I didn’t say this before but before my mom died, she gave me a rabbit that I raised as my son for many years.” You shook your head, feeling a little silly. “Please, don’t kill them. I’m begging you.”

Daryl could see the prayer in your gaze, in those shy eyes that most of the time used to be full of life, always glowing when you used to say things just to make him nervous. So finally, Daryl lowered his crossbow, looking at the rabbits before looking back at you.

“God dammit, woman, if I didn't love ya so much they'd be cookin' in a stew.” He froze for a second, listening clearly to his heartbeat as he walked away, but Daryl had to clear his throat so his next words wouldn’t break off mid-sentence. “Let's go over there and see if we can get some squirrels instead.”

You smiled to yourself as you started following him.

You knew well you could die tomorrow, or the day after that, and although you were afraid your dead could be painful, it could be quick too and then you would die in the middle of a breath, with an incomplete phrase that you will never be able to finish. And you didn’t want that, you wanted to be honest with yourself, you wanted to say what was in my mind and not let your thoughts die If something happened to you at any time.

You wanted to say I love you too aloud. And that night, as you stroked his hair, again, (because he secretly loved it just like he loved you) you said those words to him.

[mvth3r]

daryl doesn’t think he’s anything special. he never has. but to you? he’s everything.

or

5 times daryl feels your affection down to his core and the many 1 time he unconsciously returns the favor.

cw: 18+ MDNI, p-in-v, mention of injury, swearing, mostly fluff, 4283 words

a/n: this draft got the most votes in the poll, which was surprising tbh! next up medieval au, princess reader, forbidden romance?? hmmmm

one.

daryl hears you coming before he sees you. he knows it’s on purpose, so you don’t startle him (“and get an arrow in the tit or something, i don’t know!” you had explained, laughing). he’s long since taught you how to be quiet when walking over leaves and branches.

his eyes drifted in the direction of the noise, watching you melt out of the trees, water bottle in one hand and knife in the other. you had a bad habit of speeding through or ignoring your own duties in favor of tracking him out into the woods while he was hunting. the teasing looks from rick and carol when they saw the gates open in the evening, revealing the two of you instead of just him, were enough to have him blushing up to his ears, but he couldn’t find it in him to stop you. if anything, daryl found himself lingering closer to the prison when he was first setting out for the day and making his tracks a little easier for you to follow as he went on. he liked to think of it as a teaching moment, encouraging you to follow his lessons, but he knew what it really was.

he liked having you here with him, away from prying eyes and ears. daryl wasn’t big on pda, he’d never been, and you knew that, but you could be as affectionate as you wanted out here.

the smile that split you face when you saw daryl was blinding, creasing your eyes and cheeks, “hey, handsome.”

daryl felt his heart start to pound immediately in his chest and warmth radiate through his belly and down his limbs. he had the distant, bizarre thought that any walker for a few miles would probably be able to smell his blood as it rose rapidly to his face, coloring his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

he scoffed quietly to keep the words he really wanted to say from spilling unbidden from his throat as you caught up to him, instead deadpanning, “handsome? really?”

you hummed, raising a hand to card through his long bangs, eyes tender when they met his, “mhm, very handsome. don’t i tell you every day?”

you leaned up to press a sweet kiss to his lips, no longer than a moment. you hand drifted from his hair down to cup his jaw as you did, and daryl found himself leaning into your palm, his own hand coming up to grip your wrist loosely.

you pulled away with a smaller, more intimate smile, one that daryl had only ever seen directed at him. and, if you had felt the pounding of his heart through his shirt or seen the intensity of his flush, you didn’t say a word.

two.

daryl was distracted.

this council meeting was dragging on much longer than intended. what was initially supposed to be a quick conversation about planning a run to get supplies for judith and a few of the other kids had turned into a heated debate about possibly opening up the council to a few of the people from woodbury. he could understand why. there was still a stark divide between their group and the new people, but daryl had been content to sit back and let the situation mend itself, so long as it didn't escalate.

the discussion was split down the middle. or.. maybe there were more in favor of maintaining the current council? daryl couldn’t tell because he couldn’t focus and he couldn’t focus because every time he tried to lock in on the conversation, he could feel your fingers brush over his knuckles.

earlier, when the meeting started, you had sat yourself right next to daryl, reached under the table, and grabbed his hand where it was resting on his knee. no fanfare, no lovesick gazes, just your fingers intertwined with his calloused ones like they belonged there. which, he mused to himself, maybe they do.

and so there your hand had remained as the meeting went on. every so often, you would brush your fingers lightly over his knuckles, or give his fingers a squeeze if you happened to catch his eyes… which would lead to you chuckling quietly to yourself when his neutral expression would warm over with a blush.

the meeting had been going on for at least an hour. god.

“daryl, what do you think?”

glenn’s voice cut through daryl’s thoughts like a knife. he jerked a little, almost dislodging your hand when he looked across the table, meeting the expectant stares of the council.

“uhh,” he grunted eloquently, “‘bout bringin’ some of them folks on?”

hershel nodded expectantly, his voice thoughtful, “don’t you think we could afford their input? after all, this is their home now just as much as it is ours.”

your fingers brushed again over his knuckles and daryl willed himself not to lose focus. not to allow his mind to run on with thoughts about the softness of your fingers and how much he liked the feeling of your palm against his. how comfortable-

no.

daryl blinked and cleared his throat, “we don’ even have rick on the council right now, i’on think it’s a good idea.”

glenn nodded along with maggie and, reluctantly a moment later, hershel did too, though his mouth had settled into a thin frown.

daryl felt your hand squeeze his twice, taking it as a nonverbal ‘good job!’, and paused only a moment before squeezing back his own nonverbal ‘thank you’. he saw a small smile flit across your face out the corner of his eye.

before the debate could start up again, you were leaning forward and speaking up, saying, “alright, let’s table this for next time then. the run is already planned for the baby stuff, so—?”

hershel’s eyes swept across the table and he nodded, “meeting adjourned, i suppose.”

three.

the woods were clear as daryl looked out over the gate. he could see everything from the watchtower, as was intended, but for once the calm darkness was not a comfort.

instead, every moment that passed heightened the panic that had been swirling in his gut since earlier that evening.

it had been roughly fourteen hours since you had left on a run with glenn and maggie. there was a small gas station a little ways out that looked to be mostly untouched, and you had been pulled to fill in daryl’s usual slot since he was already slated to go hunting.

he was regretting it now, though, as he continued to watch the road leading up to the gate for any sign of maggie’s headlights.

while the general rule of thumb was to be back to the prison before dark, everyone knew that sometimes shit happens, whether it be walkers appearing at the worst possible time, or not being able to secure the haul. hell, shit happened more often than it didn't, as far as daryl was concerned.

maybe the haul had been much larger than the three of you had planned for, and you had to hide some of it away for a return trip.

maybe y'all had come across a herd large enough to block the car's path and had to find a way around it to get home without leading them back behind you.

maybe the gas station had been a bust all together and you’d gone further out in hopes of not returning empty handed.

the thoughts swimming through his mind sent daryl pacing across the small area of the watchtower. back and forth he went, eyes flashing over to the gate of the prison every few seconds.

“you’re gonna wear out your shoes like that.”

oh right. daryl isn’t even on watch, not officially at least. he’d joined carol a little after the sun went down and been up here ever since.

carol continues on despite his brooding silence, “they’re okay. something probably held them up, it happens.”

daryl turned to face carol, scrubbing a hand down his face. he opening his mouth to respond, but before he could, the sound of wheels crunching across gravel made him whip back around.

he barely registered that it was maggie’s car before he was yanking the floor hatch open and climbing down. rick, who’d been poking around the farm despite the late hour, unwilling to admit his own anxiety, was already pulling the gate open to let the car in.

daryl stopped further up the hill to meet you, and, as soon as you popped the lock on your door, he was tugging it open with one hand and reaching for you with the other.

you went willingly, a sheepish smile on your face as you let him turn you this way and that, checking for any injuries or bites, neither of which you had.

“sorry i’m late, handsome,” you whispered, “i didn’t mean to worry you.”

daryl grunted in response, resisting the urge to press himself against you and feel your heart beat against his skin. he understood that you were capable, and that you had lasted just as long in the apocalypse as he had, but he can't help but wonder if he'll ever get used to this, or if he'll spend any moment you aren't within his reach on the edge of a panic attack.

by then, rick had made his way up the hill to the car and was helping unload their findings from the boot. all things considered, the three of you had brought back a pretty decent amount of stuff.

“everyone alright?” rick questioned, eyes skirting over the contents of the trunk to scan the three of you instead. "what held y'all up?"

maggie shook her head with a smile, “nothing like that. we found a good bit at that gas station, but there was a map of a small trailer park a little ways away, and we thought it was better to go for it while we were right down the road.”

“and we had the space anyway. didn’t make sense to waste a second trip, but it took a little longer to search than we thought,” you added. you had turned to face the group and, under the cover of the dark, you leaned back just slightly into daryl’s side.

carol, who had followed daryl down from the watchtower, hummed, and rick nodded thoughtfully. they both followed behind maggie and glenn, grabbing as much as they could carry from the car and heading up to deposit it for sorting tomorrow.

now alone, daryl took a moment to breathe you in, but he was moving soon as well, heading for the trunk to grab what was left.

he didn’t notice you coming up next to him until he felt your fingers slipping into his pocket.

“found something for you,” you said quietly, standing at his side.

daryl patted his pocket, feeling the dented box of what he assumed to be cigarettes and looked over at you, brows furrowed in confusion.

“i noticed you ran out the other day,” you answered his unasked question, a small smile lifting your cheeks, “combed through every trailer looking for ‘em.”

with that, you turned away from him and back to the trunk.

daryl stood speechless, his heart building up to that rapid thrum he only seemed to feel in your presence.

you had brought something back for him. had spent the daylight rummaging through dirty trailers on the off chance that you’d find a pack of cigarettes to replace his empty one that he himself hadn't even bothered to go searching to replace.

he wanted to think he didn’t understand why you would do something like this, why you would care, but he did. he’d done the same for you, time and time again on the road, if only to see you smile. he understood exactly why.

“‘preciate it,” he grunted, thankful that the darkness surrounding you kept his blush from being too obvious.

you hummed in acknowledgment, and daryl could your small smile growing out the corner of his eye.

four.

having sex in the prison was no easy feat, mostly due to the lack of privacy. a sheet could only provide so much, and even then it did nothing for the noise echoing constantly off the concrete walls.

as far as most were concerned, maggie and glenn had found the best spot early on, making the most unused watchtower their designated private retreat, but you and daryl knew otherwise.

deep in the tombs, which were no longer a threat as they had long since been cleared and sealed, there were a few tucked away offices that had sat empty even after the woodbury residents had been moved in. noise didn’t escape the tombs, and no one ever just wandered in, especially not in the middle of the night, so despite the cell that you and daryl shared, you both much preferred spending your more intimate moments here.

well, daryl did. you weren’t picky, and could be quiet when you really tried, but it made daryl more comfortable.

he’d like to think it was just because he was wary of any listening ears, especially with all the children roaming around, but he knew the truth of his resolve.

daryl had never been a selfish man, and certainly not after the world fell. everything he had, everything he was, he would give to his family in a heartbeat.

but this.. this was just for him.

your body arched beautifully under his, legs falling open to accommodate his weight settling against you. daryl’s hand left your heat, fingers dripping with wetness, to squeeze your hips, using them to guide you as your moved against him.

you were already bare, both of you having stripped each other of your clothes between heated kisses while you stumbled in the office. you hadn’t even made it to the double-stacked cot in the corner, daryl instead pushing you firmly down on the dusty desk and leaning in to mouth at your neck.

you moaned under him now, a breathy sigh of his name, and the sound sent a shiver down daryl’s spine.

“needy girl,” he grunted teasingly, reaching down to grasp his hardness. he dragged the head of his cock up your slit, collecting your wetness and smearing it over your clit.

your head knocked back against the desk and a loud groan burst out of your throat. your knees tried to close around daryl’s waist as if to keep him away, but you arms came up to wrap around him, pulling him closer to your body, and he leaned into you willingly.

your voice trembled when you spoke into his ear, want dripping from every syllable, “please, baby. need you inside me so bad.”

and god, daryl wanted to make you beg for it. he wanted to wait until he could see the desperation in your eyes and then wait some more, but he couldn’t. not when you looked so pretty spread out beneath him and your hands were petting over his shoulders and neck just how he liked. he almost thought you were doing it on purpose, but he knew better. this was just you.

you couldn’t stay off him when he was in you, always tugging at his hair or rubbing his chest, hands scrabbling for any skin you could reach. it used to send him reeling, flustered and blushing bright, but now he looked forward to it. he could feel the want in your touches like physical imprints of your affection.

daryl pushed into your slowly, groaning deep in his chest. your slick walls felt heavenly around him, but daryl was more focused on you right now.

soft whimpers fell from your lips as your hands drifted over his sweat slicked skin. daryl’s thrusts were slow but purposeful, and he ignored your legs squeezing around his waist, trying to urge him to speed up.

“relax, peach,” he soothed, hands drifting up and down your sides in pace with his thrusts, “i’ma take care of you.”

“kiss, please,” you whispered, voice floating past daryl’s ear. he would have missed it if you weren’t pressed together like this.

daryl would not describe himself as a selfish man. he might have had his moments in the past, but now, with the dead walking and a prison full of survivors to protect, it was virtually out of the question.

but as he leaned down to press his lips to yours, feeling your hands finally make their way up into his long strands, daryl thought that he might be a possessive man.

he’d sooner spread you out deep in the woods than have you where anyone could see you like this or hear the noises you make.

no, daryl thought, tongue sliding in your mouth to tangle with yours, this would always be just for him.

five.

daryl came into awareness slowly and then all at once. he startled, trying to sit up, but a searing pain made itself known in his abdomen. the pain clouded his senses, blooming out across his torso and down his limbs. he flops uselessly, feeling like the wind has been knocked out of him.

hearing bits of voices above him, daryl wills himself to focus. he’s hurt, obviously, and it’s pretty fucking bad, but he’ll have to suck it up and figure out a way home if he’s in bad company.

the voices start to filter in. the volume makes his temples throb in rhythm with his abdomen and his heart as the situation starts to force adrenaline through his body.

“—harder! put more pressure on it!”

daryl relaxes just a bit. that’s rick. frantic, angry, but rick all the same.

“what the fuck do you think i’m doing?!” the other voice, higher, snarls in response, “just drive the damn truck!”

and daryl feels his body try to relax all together. he would recognize your voice in his sleep, and this milky haze of pain is no different. he can feel your hands pressing a wad of something soft into his abdomen.

he can hear your panicked breaths and feel the way your fingers flex continuously against his skin. whatever’s wrong with him must be bad, and it definitely hurts like hell, but daryl takes comfort in the weight of your body against his. you won’t let anything happen to him if you can help it, you’d sworn that fiercely, and if you can’t help it then he doesn’t think anyone could have.

daryl can just barely make out the creaking of the gate being pulled open over the sound of rick laying on the horn.

as they pull in, the gravel of the path rocks the truck and daryl feels the ache in his abdomen bloom again, distracting him from his thoughts, but here, knowing he’s safe and back with his family, he allows himself to drift away.

—

this time, when daryl comes into awareness, the first thing he feels is fingers carding through his hair, tugging gently as if to untangle a couple of knots and snarls.

without even opening his eyes he knows it’s you. he can feel the heat of your body settled next to him and smell the soap you like to bathe with. daryl leans towards you, chasing the warmth of your hand against his skin.

the bandages on his stomach are wrapped tight, but it’s more annoying than anything and the pain has finally, thankfully, subsided to a dull ache. daryl stretches on the cot, trying to loosen him limbs from their inactivity, but what he focuses on is your fingers immediately pulling away.

“daryl?” your voice prods quietly, “you awake?”

he opens his eyes slowly, squinting at the sunlight that streams through the bars of the cell. the privacy sheet isn’t down, actually there’s no sheet at all, daryl notes as he looks out. he must be in one of the cells near hershel’s.

“‘m up,” he grumbles, a cough working its way out of his throat. before he can attempt to clear the dryness, you’re standing to grab a bottle of water off some boxes stacked nearby and pressing it into his hand.

your fingers linger against his wrist as you pull away, but you’re resuming your previous position anyway, in a chair brought right up to his bedside.

daryl hasn’t sat up yet, staring instead at you as one of your hands return to his hair and the other rubs down his arm.

a few quiet moments pass before you speak again, head bowed and voice a little choked, “we almost lost you. i almost lost you.”

“didn’t though,” daryl croaks. he feels your grip tighten on his arm and just knows. knows that you’ve been sitting right here every moment that you could since he went down. knows that you probably haven’t had your hands off him. knows you’ve spent the time, however long it’s been, agonizing over what went wrong and how to keep it from happening ever again. he knows.

“i didn’t,” you agree with a barely restrained sniffle. you refuse to allow the tears beading your waterline to fall, but daryl sees them all the same.

oddly, he feels that familiar warmth blossom in his chest. he hates to see you upset, but to see your love, your heart laid so bare for him? daryl thinks he can finally understand the depth of your affections.

plus one.

to anybody who knew what to look for, it was obvious that you and daryl were.. something.

you remembered when the woodbury residents had really began to settle in, how they began to whisper about ‘the hunter and his lady’.

it had confused you at first. the group knew, of course, nothing could be kept a secret from them for too long, but for strangers? it was odd, given that you weren’t very public with your affections.

regardless, with an entire prison to secure and almost triple the amount of people to provide for, it was nothing to think too hard about. there was always something that needed to be done or something bigger to think about. you couldn't afford to think about it now.

eventually, though, you ended up mentioning it to carol, and the older woman had laughed, a teasing edge to her smile as she considered you.

“i think it has less to do with you and more with him, if i’m being honest,” she said.

“more to do with.. daryl?” you said slowly, raising an incredulous eyebrow, “nah, no way.”

carol hummed, her smile turning knowing, “just watch. he’s more affectionate than he gives himself credit for.”

you’d left the conversation feeling like carol had no idea what she was talking about. later that evening, though, when you were sitting with the group for dinner and daryl was sliding a couple pieces of meat from his plate to yours despite your multiple protests, you understood.

your face must have been the textbook picture of a lightbulb going off because carol sent you a wink from across the table, lips twitching like she was hiding a laugh.

it wasn’t that the woodbury residents were over analyzing the very minimal physical affection that passed between you and daryl in a day, no. instead they were observing his quieter, more unconscious actions.

they saw the way that daryl always took care to come and find you before leaving for a run, even if it meant holding everyone up a little.

and how every so often they could find daryl sharpening a knife that was far too small for him to be wielding safely while you sat nearby, watching with a grateful smile.

and how whenever you were in the same room, you always had his eye. daryl had been adamant about keeping you within his sights while you were on the road, and the habit hadn’t left him just because you were behind walls now.

even now, months later, the newer additions to the prison were starting to catch on quicker and quicker.

they overheard daryl talking to glenn about taking your place on the run later today because you’d overdone it in the sun earlier and he wanted you to get some rest.

they saw you gush excitedly every time daryl brought you back any kind of gift, whether it be a pretty rock that he thought you’d like, or your favorite animal to cook into the stew.

they watched him watch the road every time you left for a run, regardless of who was with you, and also saw him come back to be the first to greet you when you returned if he could help it.

daryl was a quiet lover and a private man if you didn’t know what to look for, but if you did, you’d see that his affections ran just as deep as yours.

your thoughts brought a sleep smile to your face as you stretched out on the cot in your shared cell, waiting for daryl to shut off the lantern on your makeshift nightstand in the corner.

you could barely make him out in the dark, but the weight of him settling in next to you sent you right into his arms, your head pillowed on his chest while his arms came up to wrap around your back.

you tilted your head up to place a small kiss to the bottom of his jaw, mumbling a quiet, “love you.”

daryl’s arms tightened around you momentarily before loosening again. you felt him lean down to press a kiss to your hair in turn.

just over the steady thumping of his heart against your ear, you could hear him whisper back, “love you too.”

[xoxo-sarah]

My Wife

↝a/n: 2,605 w/c... I like this one, guys.

↝pairing: Season 1!Daryl x wife!reader

↝warning: usual walking dead stuff, angst, animal death (mentions blood. No details), reader being sexualized?, creepy men, harassment, the creepy guy getting punched (he deserved it), cursing, protective Daryl, Merle (ew), crying, moody and soft Daryl, sassy Daryl (it's season one, what do you expect?), slightly proofread

|| Disclaimer: I do not own Daryl Dixon, or any character from The Walking Dead. I only own y/n and any characters I create with my own brain. ||

↝⎙ 10.2.24

Daryl Dixon masterlist

Before the apocalypse, you'd say your life wasn't bad. You had a decent job that paid well. A husband, a dog, and a house you owned all on your own, without any help from your parents.

You had met Daryl fresh out of college. He was staying with Merle at the time. In a rush to get away from your parents, you found a rent-to-own house on the outskirts of Atlanta. It wasn't extravagant, only having 2 beds and one bath. It was still a house-your house.

The first time you went to the grocery store to stock up before you started work since the big move, an old man had hit on you. Daryl listened from afar, not wanting to cause any more trouble for you. He knew you hadn't been in these parts of town before, he hadn't seen you before.

After many attempts at shooting the guy down, Daryl had to intervene. The guy had grabbed your arm, and before you knew it, the guy was backing away from you.

“She said she's not interested.”

“My bad, man. Didn't know she was yours.” He raised his hands, grin still on his face. It was a game to him.

“So you only take no for an answer if I 'belong' to someone?” Venom laced your voice, disgust painted into the wrinkles between your eyebrows and frown lines, glaring through the guy. A chuckle rumbled out of his chest, followed by a smoker's cough that told you he had more tar in his lungs than he had sense in his brain.

“Ma'am, will all due respect-”

“I doubt anything respectful comes out of that raunchy mouth of yours.”

His grin dropped, eyes slanting in your direction. “This one sure has a mouth on her,” his attention moved back to Daryl. “She have that mouth in the sack?”

You scoffed, glancing down at the floor, collecting the words you wanted to shoot back at him.

In the time you looked away, Daryl had put the 12-pack of beer down and swung. You snapped your head up at the sound of a fist colliding with a cheek. Daryl glared, spitting at the man as he held his cheek in shock. “Give the lady some respect, prick.”

“Damnit, Dixon!” An elderly man came running down the aisle, a manager tag clinking against the pins on his shirt. Safe to say both men had been kicked out.

After checking out, you caught sight of Daryl hunched over, looking at his bruising knuckles.

“Here's for helping me.”

Daryl's head shot up, eyes flickering to the 12-pack in your outstretched hand. “Ya didn't have to.”

“You didn't have to.” He shrugged, taking the box from you.

the rest was history.

You eventually got together, then, moved in together. He supported you in your job, making jokes about you “bringing home the bacon”. The only downside was his brother.

“Damnit, Merle.”

An intoxicated Merle flopped on your couch, cackling up at Daryl. You watched from behind the couch, arms folded across Daryl's shirt draping over your form. Daryl's own top half was bare, his muscles flexing when he folded his arms in disappointment, glaring down.

“What? Did I interrupt you 'n your housewife duties?”

You scoffed, turning around to walk back to your room, the dog Daryl had gotten you for your birthday following after you. Merle watched your movement, lowly whistling. “I'd be a housewife for that piece, too.”

Daryl grabbed the collar of Merle's shirt, bringing him to eye level. “Don't talk about my wife like that.” He threw him back against the couch, “You're out by the mornin'.”

The world had gone to shit right in the middle of your workday. Everyone was running around, yelling and panicking. You tried making a beeline for your car, getting pushed and pulled every which way. The traffic was the worst you had ever seen, when you had finally made your way onto the road.

When you finally got home, the door was open.

You rushed in, looking in every room. There was no sign of Daryl besides the place being completely trashed, in a rush to leave. He wasn't there. You had no clue where he was, if he was safe, if he knew what was happening.

You cracked the backdoor open, nearly falling to your knees. A body laid on the back porch, blood dried on its way down the person's forehead. A lump of fur and blood was right beside it. A sob racked your body on your way back to your car. Your knuckles were ghostly white as they gripped the steering wheel, as you made your way out of town, away from the life you worked hard to get and worked harder to keep.

You eventually got stuck in even more traffic. Everything only got worse when your car ran out of gas.

You had to hide in the city, which was run with zombies. Luckily for you, you had found a few bodies that hadn't turned yet, stealing anything that could be used as a weapon. You were able to stay safe, hiding in an empty office building. Living off of the vending machines and what was left in the break rooms.

You regularly walked up to the roof, getting fresh air, wondering where Daryl had gone and if he was thinking of you. Sure, a part of you wanted to be mad at him for leaving without you, but you knew he had to have his reasons. Merle had to of made him run away with him when the news first got out.

While you looked over the edge, watching as dead bodies herded together, feasting on whatever had run into the city on your way up here, you saw quick movement to your left. Swirling around, you held your gun up, pointing it at the kid in front of you.

“Woah, Hey! I'm alive- I'm alive! Not going to hurt you.” The poor boy might as well have been shivering in his boots. His hands shook in the air. He was probably the third person you've seen, alive, since you squatted in the top floor. He didn't seem like the guy to kill you just to take your stuff. “Look, there's a guy in the tank down there. I'm just trying to help him.” You thought back to the sounds of pained neighing you heard when you first stepped onto the roof, but you had shrugged it off, figuring you were going insane already. No sleep and being isolated will do that to you. “C'mon, dude.” He was practically begging you to not shoot him in the head.

What would Daryl do in this situation? He wouldn't just trust anyone when it comes to survival. You reluctantly put your gun down, watching as he sighed in relief. You hid the shake in your hands when they fell to your sides, not wanting him to know you didn't want to kill him even if he were dangerous.

“We have to get down there to help him.” The boy leaned over the edge, at the tank and the 'geeks' that surrounded it.

“We?”

He looked back at you, then to the tank. “The extra help would be appreciated.”

Somehow, you followed after him, climbing down fire escapes and counting the amount of bodies in each alleyway. He was quick, but you kept up with him with ease.

He led you down the alleyway, hiding behind the trashcans and gate separating you and a painful death. “You have good aim? I need you to shoot that big guy closest to the tank.” He whispered, fixing the hat on his head.

You glanced at him, watching as he awaited your next move. You whispered back, “it's empty.” You held the gun up in emphasis. You weren't going to tell him that when it was pointed at him. He huffed, throwing his head back. “I only have a knife.”

He shrugged off his backpack, grabbing the empty gun and throwing it in there. It was useless with no bullets, and it only took up a hand, making it harder for you to climb.

“Alright, change of plans.” He grabbed the walkie, bringing it to his mouth before pressing the button. “Hey, you alive in there?”

A frantic voice broke through the static, “Hello? Hello?!”

The next thing you knew, you were running downstairs with the young boy, Glenn, you had figured out, and the guy you nearly died saving, Rick. Glenn led you two to another alleyway, before the door to the building in front of you busted open, 2 people filing out with gear and helmets on, attacking the walkers wondering in front of you.

“Lets go!” Glenn jumped over the bodies on the ground, running through the door, you and Rick following. As soon as you were through the door, you were pushed to the other side of the wall, before Rick was pushed back, a gun aimed at his face. “You son of a bitch! We ought to kill you.” A blonde woman was seething, ready to put a bullet in Rick's head.

“Just chill out, Andrea. Back off.” One of the guys who bashed the walker's head in pulled off the armor, glaring at the blonde.

“Come on, ease up.”

“Ease up? You're kidding me, right? We're dead because of this stupid asshole.” The gun was pointed at you next, “And her.” Her finger twitched on the trigger, but you were at a loss of words.

“She helped.” Glenn was ignored.

“Andrea, I said, back the hell off. Or pull the trigger.” The same guy from before stepped forward, closer to Andrea. It was silent for a second, before Andrea dropped her hand, lips quivering with oncoming tears. You took a breath, having the room to do so when a gun isn't pointed at you.

“We're dead,” Andrea sobbed, “All of us.” Her gaze moved back to Rick, “Because of you.”

You wondered after everyone as they walked through the old building, listening as they scolded rick for firing his gun.

“No signal. Maybe the roof.” The man, who was introduced as T-Dog, said, holding the walkie. Before anyone else could reply, a gun shot fired, echoing from above.

“Oh no, Is that Dixon?”

“Dixon?”

Andrea stopped her movement, looking back at you. “Yeah. What, you know 'em?”

Sadly, you were met with a distasteful Merle on the roof. He refused to tell you about Daryl-about how Merle had to drag in out of the house. About how Daryl wanted to pick you up and take you with them. About how Daryl had gone back, against Merle's wishes, and found you nowhere in the house. But you weren't told that, so the nerves in your stomach still fluttered, making you feel like you were going to vomit any minute. The only thing he told you was that Daryl was with the rest of the group by the quarry.

The nerves still fluttered even on your way to the said quarry. The thought of Merle being trapped in the roof was at the back of your mind, the thought of seeing Daryl for the first time in God knows how long, being front and center in your mind. Your leg shook with nerves as you sat in the back of the van, hitting a bump every once in a while, and knocking into one of the other people.

The van pulled up to the quarry, people piling out of the back, running to their families.

You were introduced to a woman named Carol. She was surprised when you told her that you knew Daryl. The short time she had known the man, she couldn't think of him having a soft spot for anyone, but here you were. She told you that he had gone hunting and that he should be back before dawn.

You sat around, getting to know everyone. As soon as Carol's husband raised his voice to her, you had kept an eye on him, instantly feeling protective of the woman. As she silently did for you. She kept an eye on you, making sure you felt comfortable among all of the strangers.

Night fell and there was still no sign of Daryl. You distracted yourself by helping Carol with whatever, or Dale with lookout. You hadn't told anyone much about you and Daryl. Mostly because you couldn't form a coherent sentence with Daryl on your mind. Where was he? Was he okay? Why wasn't he back? The band around your ring finger became a fidget habit. You spun it around any time the thoughts got too much.

The crisp morning air did little to wake you. You might as well have been a walker with how you sluggishly moved around camp, helping with anything, wanted to be helpful and pull your weight.

Carol handed you another pair of soaked pants, to ring the water out and hang it up to dry. While doing so, your eyes caught sight of Rick and Lori. They had been reunited. When was it your turn?

“How did you and Daryl meet?” Glancing back up at Carol, you cleared your throat to speak.

Before you could utter a word, a scream echoed throughout the camp, followed by Carl's screams for his mother.

Everyone stopped what they were doing, a few running toward the screaming, ready for the worst.

You walked behind the group, watching as Rick, Glenn, Dale, Shane, and a few others beat the walker that had made it from the city.

Dale swung down with his axe, cutting the head clean off the walker's body.

“It's the first one we've had up here.” He heaved, “They never come this far up the mountain.”

“Well, they're running out of food in the city, that's what.” Another guy, Jim, said, wiping the sweat from his brow.

Branches snapped, followed by more footsteps. The guys with the weapons moved toward the sound, weapons ready.

Your breath caught in your throat.

He hadn't seen you yet.

Daryl stepped over branches, slightly taken aback with everyone standing in front of him, ready to strike.

Everyone took a step back, “Oh, Jesus.” Dale's shoulders released the tension.

“Son of a bitch.” Daryl cursed, “That's my deer!” He walked to what was left of the poor animal.

He looked how he did when you first met. Frustration clear on his brow. You had helped him get rid of the constant scrunch of his brow and frown on his lips, and here it was, making its appearance in a dramatic manner.

“Look at it, all gnawed on by this-” He kicked the headless body that laid on the ground, “filthy,” kick “disease-bearing,” kick “motherless,” kick “poxy bastard!”

“Calm down, son. That's not helping.” Dale peeped, infuriating Daryl more.

“What do you know about it, old man?” Daryl walked closer, getting in Dale's face. "Why don't you take that stupid hat and go back to “On Golden Pond”?"

“Daryl.”

Daryl paused, his face dropping. He turned to the voice, his knees nearly collapsing from underneath him.

Before you could say anything else, his crossbow was dropping to the ground, followed by the string of squirrels on his shoulder. He rushed over, his body colliding with yours. His calloused hands pulled your face closer to his.

He didn't care if everyone was watching. Or if the scene made them think differently about his tough-guy thing he had going on. His lips moved against yours.

“I didn't know where you were.” He mumbled against your lips. “I tried looking everywhere-”

“I know, I know. Doesn't matter.”

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I don't give permission!]

[feral4daryl]

masterlist || MDNI

sweet scent.

perv!daryl x fem!reader

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

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

word count: 2.8k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

fuck.

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

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

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

wait, no.

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

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

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

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

that meant that those panties had been freshly worn.

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

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

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

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

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

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

just palming himself wasn't enough.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

fuck, fuck, fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“u-uncle daryl?”

[PART TWO]

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

[walkingtalkingsomething]

children 🤣

Cheater!

pairings: daryl dixon x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, crack, chaos, yelling?, alcohol consumption

a/n: i saw this one video on tiktok this one and IT SOUNDS SO ACCURATE TO MAGGIE and i feel like she is the veryyy competitive type with underlying anger issues when it comes to board games LMAOOOO so i had to quickly write this before i lose motivation

The night air in Alexandria was cool, the gentle hum of distant cicadas blending with the occasional burst of laughter from inside your house.

Inside, the hum of laughter and the faint clink of glass echoed in your small Alexandria house as the six of you sat around the table. A half-empty bottle of whiskey stood proudly in the middle, surrounded by empty shot glasses, bowls of whatever slightly stale snacks you’d scavenged, and a stack of worn board games you’d brought back from the latest supply run.

After stumbling upon the box of board games on a supply run, you’d insisted on a game night.

The night had started innocently enough—Rick had vetoed Twister (his knee couldn’t handle it), Glenn had no clue how to play Scrabble, and Michonne had made it abundantly clear that Risk wasn’t an option. But when you and Carol suggested UNO, everyone agreed instantly.

The game started off simple enough. Glenn was the first to suffer Maggie’s wrath, groaning loudly when she dropped a Wild Draw Four on him.

“Seriously?” Glenn whined, stacking cards in his hand. “How do you have three of these?”

Maggie shrugged innocently, though the smug smile on her face was far from innocent.

Rick and Michonne exchanged knowing looks, already predicting Maggie’s reign of terror. Carol, sitting on your left, shook her head with a soft chuckle. “Don’t let her fool you, Glenn,” she said, her voice teasing. “She’s always had that sweet, innocent act down to an art.”

But to everyone’s surprise, Daryl was catching on—and fast.

A few rounds in, the tension was palpable. Maggie had two cards left, Glenn was drowning in a sea of colors, since she had won this round first, Carol relaxed and took a sip of her drink, and Rick was down to his last card, eyeing everyone suspiciously. Michonne was unnervingly calm, while you kept trying to suppress your giggles as Daryl muttered curses under his breath whenever the game turned against him.

Your boyfriend had been hesitant to play at first, grumbling about how he didn’t grow up playing games and didn’t see the point. But after a quick explanation of the rules and a few drinks, he’d started to get the hang of it, though his stubbornness and blunt demeanor didn’t make him the easiest player to deal with.

But again, he was getting the rhythm of the game.

“Daryl, your turn,” you said, nudging him.

He flicked through his cards, pausing dramatically before slapping down a Reverse card.

Rick groaned. “You serious, man? I was about to win!”

“That’s the point,” Daryl replied with a small, satisfied smirk.

Maggie narrowed her eyes. “You’re gettin’ too good at this, Dixon.”

“I’m just playin’ the game,” he shot back, shrugging.

You leaned over and whispered in his ear, “You’re doing great, babe.”

He grunted, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

Carol chuckled softly beside you, her tone was full of sarcasm as she spoke to Daryl. “Looks like you’ve got some hidden talents, Dixon. Who knew?”

“Shut it,” Daryl muttered, though his lips twitched upward.

Now, a few rounds into the game, you were well past "simple" at this point. The table was littered with half-eaten pretzels, discarded cards, and a growing storm of drunken competitiveness. Maggie had turned out to be surprisingly vicious—who knew such a sweet, Southern farm girl could have such a cutthroat streak?

Right now everyone in the room was watching an actual showdown between Maggie and Daryl over one particularly heated round.

“Alright,” Maggie drawled, narrowing her eyes at Daryl. She had just played a Draw Four card, and he was staring at his cards like they’d personally offended him. “Your turn, Dixon.”

Daryl glared at his hand, chewing on his bottom lip. “Ain’t got nothin’,” he grumbled, drawing from the deck. He was sitting slightly hunched over, his shaggy hair casting shadows over his intense blue eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” Maggie said smugly. “Two cards left for me. Better luck next time, boys and girls.”

You leaned back, sipping your drink, enjoying the sight of your man starting to get fired up.

“Oh yeah?” Daryl suddenly said, slapping a red card on the pile with a little too much gusto. “There. Done.”

Maggie blinked at him. “Wait. Did you—did you just put your second-to-last card down?”

“Yeah,” Daryl said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Maggie’s Southern accent sharpened in frustration as she threw her hands up. “You cheatin’ son of a bitch! You’re supposed to say ‘UNO’ when you only got one card left!” she bellowed.

That got everyone’s attention. Glenn choked on his drink, Rick coughed into his hand to cover a laugh, and Michonne leaned back, shaking her head in disbelief. You slapped a hand over your mouth, trying desperately to stifle your giggles.

Carol, calmly munching on a pretzel, raised an eyebrow. “She’s not wrong, Daryl,” she chimed in, her tone light.

Daryl blinked at Carol then turned to Maggie and shrugged. “I said one.”

“You’re supposed to say UNO,” Maggie hissed, jabbing a finger toward him, her cheeks flushed. “It’s a Mexican game!”

Daryl squinted at Maggie, clearly trying to decide whether she was messing with him. "What the hell’s bein’ Mexican got to do with it? I said it!"

Carol smirked at the exchange, leaning toward you. “Think we should step in?” she whispered.

“Absolutely not,” you replied, grinning. “This is gold.”

The argument continued for another solid two minutes before Michonne finally intervened, smirking as she threw down a Reverse card. “You know what? Let’s settle this the old-fashioned way—Daryl gets two penalty cards, and Maggie has to sit out a turn for yelling.”

“Fair!” you said, trying to stifle your giggles.

Carol nodded sagely. “Sounds like justice to me.”

“Fine,” Maggie grumbled, crossing her arms as she leaned back in her chair.

“Whatever,” Daryl muttered, snatching his penalty cards and glaring at the table. But you caught the tiny, satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth—he knew he’d gotten under Maggie’s skin, and he was damn proud of it.

"Daryl Dixon, you’re the worst UNO player I’ve ever met," Maggie finally said.

"And you’re the loudest," he grumbled, glaring at her before throwing a wild card onto the pile. "Red."

As the game resumed, you leaned over and nudged him with your elbow. “Hey, Uno champ,” you whispered, grinning. “You’re lucky I am here, or Maggie might’ve actually decked you.”

Daryl gave you a side glance, his lips twitching into a small smirk. “Ain’t scared of her.”

“Sure you’re not,” you teased, watching as he focused back on his cards.

Carol laughed from her spot, shaking her head and whispering to you. “Honestly, I think Maggie was about three seconds away from throwing that deck at his face."

As the next round began, the tension dissipated, though Maggie was clearly watching Daryl like a hawk. Every time he picked up a card or played one, she muttered under her breath, and you swore he started intentionally dragging it out just to rile her up.

The last round of the game had devolved into absolute chaos, and you were pretty sure no one had played by the rules for at least three rounds. By the time the game finally ended, Rick was cuddling Michonne in the corner, while she had claimed victory, Carol began cleaning up the card, and Glenn and Maggie were bickering over who had drunk the last of the whiskey. 

After a while of just talking and joking, the others decided to call it a night and began bidding you and Daryl good night and heading out the door. 

After everyone had departed, you and Daryl started cleaning, albeit his movements were a little slower than usual because of the alcohol.

"You really did good tonight," you teased, stacking the cards into their box.

"Good?" he muttered, raising an eyebrow. "I kicked her ass."

You laughed, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "Sure you did, Dixon. Sure you did."

Note: gifs, pictures, and header DOES NOT belong to me. CREDITS TO THE RIGHTFUL OWNERS!! Feedback and reblog is appreciated.<3

[fordaryl]

REMEMBER.

minors dni. 2.6k words. smut. daryl dixon x fem!reader. protective daryl. hint of size kink. strength kink.

It's easy to forget his strength when his touch is always so gentle. When you're safe, he lets you forget everything he's capable of; the reason you've both made it this long.

Safety lets you forget.

And then—when it inevitably all it all goes to shit again—you remember.

"Get in!" he calls through the wall of bodies separating you. He keeps the attention of most of them, but there's a few stumbling in your direction—too many for you to handle alone. "Now!" he shouts as he takes another growling walker down.

It goes against every instinct you have—to leave him to fight this alone. But this was his domain. This was when you did whatever the fuck he told you to do. It was how you survived.

You drag the door of the container open, grunting as the heavy metal fights back. It's a makeshift prison cell, one that was supposed to be filled with live bait for the walkers. It would be if it weren't for Daryl. He was almost single-handedly dismantling whatever fucked up enterprise you'd both stumbled upon.

One of them reaches you before you'd manage to push the gate open enough to slip through.

One is fine. You can handle one.

Turning around to deal with it gives you a split second to check in on Daryl. He's making a dent in the mass of bodies, but it's not enough. Not with the shouts of the living making their way closer.

You kick the walker you've knifed back into the mass of bodies approaching, giving you just enough time to slip through the crack you've made in the sliding door and slam it closed behind you.

Locking it is another story.

You have no hope of accomplishing that.

Still, it's enough for now. It's enough to let Daryl keep his focus where it needs to be as you deal with as many as you can through the bars.

Then one gets shot down. Daryl, is your first thought. But then two are shot down at once. And then the voices reach your ears. Voices are bad. Walkers you can handle. The living was another story. Nothing stoked the fear constantly simmers in your gut like the voices of the living.

They shout over each other, calling directions as they pick off the mass with a spray of bullets. You can't see Daryl anymore. He's either dead or hiding.

Hiding. Hiding. Hiding.

You shift back into one of the dark corners of the container as the shouts draw nearer.

“What the fuck happened?! Don't shoot them you dumb fucks! Get any you can back into holding!”

Any second now... any second they'd find Daryl and your world would end. The living were different. The living were monsters of a different kind.

"They're bunched up around this one!" someone shouts.

You hold your breath.

"Well check it out then!" another demands.

Oh, fuck. You grip your pistol. Your aim was decent. You could take one out, maybe two. But there's a whole group... and they were coming for you.

You scramble to the other far corner as the last of the walkers are cleared from the entrance, hoping to take advantage of the darkest shadows. Daryl would be watching... waiting. Any extra moment you could give him could be vital.

"You better come out now," a man calls from outside. He's just out of your sights, prepared for you to be armed and ready to fight. You'd hoped to have the element of surprise. "I ain't asking."

You know what'll happened when they find you. It's the same thing each time. You're prey to people like these—something to hunt in a world without consequences for that kind of thing.

Your silence buys you less than a minute before the first of them are dragging the metal gate open. If you shoot, they'll shoot back. It's not something you'll survive cornered like this. So you bet on them being the same as the rest. You let them know you're prey.

"Please," you call, as meek and afraid as you can manage—vulnerable. Not a threat. "I'm—I'm unarmed."

Then a bright light blinds you.

"What the fuck?" one of them exclaims. Then, "Where'd the fuck this little thing come from?"

There it was. Little. Thing. You were nothing. You're not a threat. You'd bought Daryl more time.

"Come on out, girl. Come on." They call you like you're a dog, something less than human. That's how they see you. Something to use.

You take a small step forward, still blinded by their flashlights. Daryl was alive. He was alive and hiding and he was waiting for something.

You just had to stay alive.

"What do you... want with me?" you ask, still taking tiny steps towards the light. Weak. Vulnerable. No threat.

You get muffled laughter in response. Guards down. Distracted.

"What do we want? We want a little fun, honey. That's all. Just a bit of fun."

They're flash lights drop as you approach the entrance. They've pulled the gate all the way across.

Five. You count five. If you kill two...

"Why is she alone?" one of them questions. He's younger, a little less distracted.

The rest ignore him. Then one of them has you by the arm, dragging you the rest of the way out of the makeshift cell. They're hands send a wave of repulsion through your body as they grab at you, pulling you around and shoving you in front of them. They may as well be the undead the way their touch feels against your skin.

The young one doesn't move out of the way when you reach him. Instead he stares into you, suspicious and angry. "Who are you with?" he asks. Even then, his gun is lowered. Even to him you aren't a threat.

"Get the fuck out of the way," the man gripping your arm says, clearly irritated and impatient.

"But—"

"Now."

His eyes narrow, but then he steps aside—his back pressed to the wall to let the rest of the men past. It's now that you get a look down into the pit of walkers, the one's they've managed to recapture rather than take out. They reach up towards you, hands grabbing for you.

Then, only a few steps later—you're stopped. The man with his hand wrapped around your elbow leans over your shoulder, his rancid breath invading your nostrils as he speaks. "You alone?" he asks. "You tell me right now."

You blink away the burn threatening to pool tears in your eyes. Were you alone? If you were...

The man's grip tightens, the only warning you get before you're forced to your knees and staring down into the pit of hungry walkers. "Speak," he demands, nails carving into your skin. "I'd hate to waste you like this."

There's two other men behind you. Three surrounding you in total. You could take one out for sure. They hadn't even searched you for weapons. They expected nothing out of you at all.

But then there'd be two, only counting the ones in reaching distance. How long would it take the other two further away to aim their guns in your direction?

You were dying tonight if Daryl was dead, that was certain. Your only hope was that he was waiting and watching... but what would he be waiting for...

Your pistol sits at your hip, a comfortable weight.

You take a deep breath. You could wait to die. Or fight now and hope that's the moment he's waiting for... if he's waiting at all.

The man holding you drops to one knee behind you. He leans over to speak in your ear. You wouldn't need to rely on your aim for the first kill, only any that followed. It was a headstart you weren't likely to get again. You reach for your pistol and before the man can open his lips and taint your senses with his rot once more, you shoot him through the underside of his jaw.

Your ears ring as his body drops. But you were ready. The men behind you aren't.

You were nothing. Prey.

The few seconds that affords you are priceless. You manage to shoot one more through the head before he can get hands on his own weapon.

The third is another story. His gun is pointed at you for what must be milliseconds. They drag though, those moments with an enemy weapon pointed at your head always do.

But then Daryl is there, strangling the man with a rifle and shoving his body into the ground with a force that reverberates through the metal. It's only when he snaps the man's neck you spot the bodies behind him.

He'd been waiting for you.

You watch him stand, hair hanging in his face and his chest rising and falling with his deep breaths.

Then his eyes are on you.

Then his hands.

Those hands... the same ones he'd used seconds earlier to break a man's neck. His fingers are feathers across your skin as he brushes the hair back off your face. "Okay?" he asks, soft and a little shaky.

You nod.

"You did good," he says, that deep gravel back in his voice. "So good, sweetheart." His hand makes a trail down to your neck, gentle and slow over your pulse point to rest at your clavicle. "We gotta go," he says. "Stay close for me, yeah?"

—————

The first time after is always the same—after you're forced to remember. It adds something to the way his gentle hands feel as he reaches over your hips to dip between your legs. To the way his body feels pressed up behind yours.

His thick fingers slip between your slick folds as he holds you tight against his chest. Heat. It's an overwhelming heat. He crowds you, practically curled around you.

"You like that sweetheart?" His voice is almost sweet as his lips graze your ears and his long hair tickles your skin. "Huh? You like that?"

You nod with a small whine, pressing your hips back into him—desperate.

He sighs, finger prodding over and over at your swollen entrance—a teasing little hint of what's to come. He dips in slightly, his calloused fingertip pressing into your slippery, spongy entrance just enough to have you whimpering his name.

"Fuck," he grunts. "You need me here? Huh? You all fuckin' empty?"

"Yeah," you whine with a desperate nod. "Empty."

His grip around your ribs tightens for a moment before he's pressing you into the ground—cushioned by the few blankets you carry. He's rolled you onto your belly as he covers you completely, his warmth seeping into your skin from his calves to his hot breath on your neck.

"What do you need?" he asks. As if he doesn't know; as if he didn't always know.

"You."

"Hm?" he hums, sweet and coaxing. "How?"

You reach blindly to find his wrist, gripping it firmly. "Hold me tight," you gasp between jagged breaths. "Please... Please."

His weight is heavy over you as he drops his lips to your neck, a silent acknowledgement of your pleas.

Then he's scooping you up, lifting you and rearranging you exactly the way you want him to. Because he fucking knows.

He has you pressed to his chest with your tits against his skin as he lays back into the makeshift bed you've created for the night. His arms wrap around you, one across your shoulder blades and the other around your waist—secure and firm. His fingers press sporadically into your skin a little more than needed, like he's testing his grip on you; like he's testing he has you in his arms good and tight.

Then he hooks one leg under yours, a gentle guide to part your legs just the way he needs.

"You ready for me, sweetheart?" he breathes against your temple as one of his hands leaves you. It's temporary, you remind yourself. He'd be wrapping you up securely as soon as he'd buried himself deep; once his cock was guided safely into your throbbing cunt.

You nip at his neck in response, chasing with a delicate lick at his salty skin. "Please," you ask softly.

Then he's adjusting you against him a little, ensuring you're exactly where he needs you to be. "I got you," he says as his leaking tip prods at your entrance. "Got you," he repeats. He mumbles this way as he teases; as he plays. This was what he did: pushed you to the brink of desperate sobs as he guides his cockhead over your slippery, throbbing cunt... over and over.... and over...

Saying he liked you needy was an understatement.

Then, eventually, he slips inside. Just the tip.. and not far. Just enough so that he can wrap his arms around you again. Just enough that he can have you whimpering his name as he prevents you grinding down to take him deep inside.

This is when he gives you a hint of his strength. It's easy to keep you from your goal, his strong arms pressing you into his torso a little harder each time you attempt to resist.

He keeps you there, just with a taste of that fullness—a taste of having him as close as it was possible to be. "Kiss," he says, simple and a little croaky.

You obey, pressing your desperation between his lips. It's messy and interrupted by moments where you simply need to breathe, heavily—his lips chasing yours as you attempt to catch your breath.

"Daryl," you gasp eventually. "Now. Please."

His grip around you tightens a little as you drop your face to his neck.

Then he pulls you down to meet his cock, to fuck himself deep. It's hard, exactly like you need it—exactly the way he knows you want it. You bite into his neck weakly as he keeps you there, stuffed full—the thick throbbing length of him stretching you out so completely.

Then, "Like that?" he asks, that sweetness back in his voice—like he's offering you a gentle back massage instead of holding you down on his cock.

You nod weakly in response.

His fingers press into your skin moments before he's moving, fucking himself with your cunt as he pulls you down to meet his messy thrusts. You're completely pliant like this, all control relinquished.

He's got you.

His breathing is quickly transformed into uneven pants as he attempts to grunt broken sentences into your ear. "Sucking me in... sucking at my cock with your messy little cunt... aren't you, baby? Hm?"

One of his hands moves to your hair occasionally, a temporary and seemingly subconscious attempt to get a better grip—or just to hold you closer. His fingers tangle in the strands, never tugging hard—never hurting.

"My girl," he grunts. "My needy little girl."

It's only when he's nearing his end that he flips you onto your back and you get a real display. He grips your hips and tugs you down to meet him as he uses you, each thrust a slapping of skin and punching a helpless sound from your lungs.

Strength. Everything you've been forced to remember.

"Daryl," you gasp. "Daryl, fill me. Please."

His fingers dig a little more into your skin, his hair falling over his eyes. Then his lips part, a grunt... a broken, "Fuck."

He falls over you as he floods you, his cock twitching and pumping you full—just like you asked. But even then, even as he loses himself, he catches his fall—arms landing either side of your head to cage you in. "Got you," he gasps out between desperate lung fulls of air. "I got you."

[daryldove]

⛧ my nsfw daryl dixon hcs ⛧

⭑ BIGGG DICK (obviously).... long, but mostly thick. VEINY.

⭑ an ass man. he loves every every part of you ofc, but his eyes are drawn to your ass. LOTS of ass grabs and smacks during sex

⭑ loving but rough (like him!) He's a lot bigger, broader and stronger, so he manhandles you a lot. loves how easily he can pick you up and hold you down

⭑ certified pussy eater. like it's basically an addiction. this man is so good with his mouth. and LOVES it

⭑ overall, he's pretty vanilla. at least at first. after you're with him for a while, he opens up to trying new things. (still nothing too intense, especially strays away from things that could hurt you or bring up any trauma)

⭑ reassures you with things like “come on, girl” & “that's it, baby” & “I got you, girl”

⭑ jealous and possessive. but never to the point of being controlling, he trusts you. you don't look at anyone but him anyway

⭑ knows how obsessed you are with his hands, biceps and broad shoulders with how much you stare and grip onto them while he's fucking you

⭑ deep grunts and moans, but this man can WHIMPER. especially when he's all riled up and desperate

⭑ usually the dominant one, but something about you being on top and/or taking control sends him to another planet (and he'll start begging and whimpering without even realising)

⭑ aftercare king! cleans you up, checks you're okay. lots of snuggles. sighs and melts into you when you gently run a hand through his hair or over his scars