#badass daryl dixon

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Carol and Daryl burst through the brush to find you seated on a log, picking the dirt from underneath your fingernails with the tip of your knife. You looked up and smiled at them casually.

Carol laughed. "We thought you might need help, but clearly you've got it under control!" she said.

You nodded. "No problem here," you said. The man on the ground beside you, bound by his ankles and his wrists behind his back, writhed a little.

Carol noticed the blood stain on his jeans and the scrap of fabric tied tightly over it. "Is he okay? What happened to his leg?"

The man squirmed and cursed. "Please—just give me something for the pain! Please!"

You scowled at him and planted a firm kick into the back of his wounded thigh and he let out a yelp, but fell silent. "He's fine," you said lazily.

Daryl let out a snort and shook his head. "Remind me not get on her bad side," he drawled to Carol, looking at you with something that might have been admiration.

"Same," she smirked.

"Oh, please. This guy earned it. Trust me..."

"Oh, we do..." Daryl drawled, still smiling at you.

Prompt: "Is he okay?" / "Please! Give me something for the pain!" / "He's fine."

[green-tea-crow]

I'm rewatching twd and.

Wow.

Daryl and Beth get alone together what, two or three episodes? Before Beth gets kidnapped. But the bethyl girlies are still going strong to this day. Absolutely mad. Can't say I'm not loving it though

[carylscherokeeroses]

Turns out I forgot to post this here when I made it. Episode 2, I’ll see you in less than two hours!

Carol Peletier, I love you.

[haircoveredwriter]

New Caryl/TBOC promo tonight!!

[bananafire11]

Rosita appreciation post cuz I liked her a lot by the end of s11, ft. Daryl because i gotta include him in everything

[witha-boxofscraps]

AMC you better start treating her better because Carol Peletier did not come this far from the timid abused housewife in s1 only to be reduced to a grieving mother every other scene. Being a mother and having lost kids is a pivotal point to her character, and it absolutely should not be ignored, but do not just bring it up after 2-3 years in the show have passed and portray it as “she’s still grieving after all this time” as an excuse just to add some angst. She was healing. Let that woman heal.

[mymanreedus]

[sweet-little-bixch]

Excerpt from Red. It's a Daryl Dixon x Fem!OC fanfiction on wattpad. It is amazing, the writer is amazing, everything about it is amazing, the OC has the best lines and banter, ITS JUST AMAZING OKAY? PLEASE CHECK IT OUT.

[dixons-sunshine]

“Claire?”

“No, I don’t really like that.”

“Mhm. Blaire, then?”

“Maybe, but I’m not so sure.”

“Trixie?”

“God, no. I’m not giving our child a hooker’s name.”

“Jesus, woman. M’runnin’ outta names ‘ere. Everythin’ I say is either ‘no’ or ‘maybe’. What’s a guy gotta do to get a ‘yeah’ ‘round ‘ere?”

You laughed and placed a tender kiss to the top of Daryl’s head, your fingers gently working through his hair. “I just don’t know. Besides, what makes you so certain our baby will be a girl?”

Daryl hummed and nuzzled his face deeper into your chest. “M’not certain,” he began, his fingers lightly tapping against your bump to a rhythm you didn’t know. “Jus’ still ponderin’ over boy names. None of ‘em seem right, y’know? If s’a boy, I want him to have a badass name.”

“DJ.”

Daryl slightly raised his head to look at you, his eyebrows quirked in interest. “DJ?”

“Yup,” you told him. “Daryl Junior.”

Daryl scoffed and laid his head back down on your chest. “Nah, we ain’t namin’ our kid after me. S’where I put my foot down.”

You chuckled in amusement. “What? I think it’s cute. Having a little you is a nice thing to think about.”

“Nah.” Despite his protest, Daryl couldn’t help the small smile that spread over his face at the suggestion. He would never give in, but he appreciated the thought. A little him. It was both thrilling and terrifying to think about. “How ‘bout Adam?”

It was your turn to scoff this time. “I thought you wanted our kid to have a badass name, not an I’m-about-to-do-your-taxes name.”

Daryl chuckled and shrugged nonchalantly. “I like it. S’not my fault yer so picky.”

You faked an offended gasp, lightly hitting him on the arm. “I’m not picky. I just don’t wanna give our kid a name that we’ll end up regretting.”

Daryl chuckled again. “Yeah, I know.” Daryl placed a soft kiss to your cheek before settling back into your chest again. “‘Sides, ya wouldn’t be the woman I fell in love with if ya weren’t jus’ the slightest bit picky.”

You smiled at him fondly. “I love you, Dar.”

“Love ya too, Sunshine.” A few minutes of silence passed between the two of you, and you had started to think that he had fallen asleep, until he spoke up again. “How ‘bout Leonard?” The sound of your groan had Daryl full-on laughing, a rare thing for the archer. “What? S’a good name.”

“Sure, if you say so.”

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

"How ya feelin'?" Daryl drawled, stepping into your room with a steaming cup of tea.

You sniffled and shifted, propped up on the pillows in your bed. It felt strangely intimate having him checking on you, helping you while you were sick. "I'm fine. I'm grape."

He tried to suppress a smile but was only mildly successful. "Did ya just say 'grape''?"

"I meant grape. Wait—" you sniffled again and cleared your throat. "—grape. No. GRA-PE-T. FUCK!"

Daryl chuckled and set the mug of tea on your bedside. "I think since ya can't even say 'great' I'mma have to disagree with ya there."

You shut your eyes and sighed, sinking back against the pillows and giving up.

Daryl laughed again a little. "Gotta say, s'nice to know you of all people can get sick just like any of us," he teased you. "Ya fuckin' badass..."

You shot him a look. "If you think a head cold is going to bring me down to your level, you're welcome to try and kill me," you quipped.

Daryl let out a long, rolling laugh, a rarity, and it immediately lifted your mood. Before you knew it, you were smiling at him and laughing along.

"Don't test me, Dixon," you sighed. He shook his head, giving you a fond look that gave you goosebumps.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Prompt: "It's nice to know that you of all people can get sick just like any of us."

[yandereunsolved]

Yandere Daryl Dixon w/ immune reader— 'we're all infected, why does it matter if you're the cure?'

Yandere Daryl saw your scraggly ass aimlessly wandering through the abandoned pharmacy he needed to raid. Walkers, five of em', and you fought them off bare fisted. Pretty badass, and fucking stupid, if Daryl has anything to say about it. You're bleeding from your neck more than any living person should.

A bite. You're bit.

No wonder you could care less if one of the rotting corpses bites on ya.

He wants to put you down like he should. He lines up his crossbow with your head, and like a deer caught in headlights, you flee.

Goddammit all.

Shouldn't matter anyway. You'll become another walker. At the most you got some gauze.

It had to be months again before he saw you on another run. There you are—banged up and just a lil more than skin n' bones, but there you are alive none the less.

Yandere Daryl admits to himself that it's the first time he's been intrigued by someone in a long while. Maybe that's why he's insisted on going on runs by himself these past few months. Maybe just maybe deep down he wanted to see you again.

It isn't hard to simply surprise you from behind and disarm you. He knocks you out and lowers you to the sidewalk. He doesn't see any walkers near, so he can check your wound out easy.

You still have gauze over it, but it has long since needed a change. It's drenched in fresh blood and covered in old. He unwraps it to see the damn bite. He can't tell if it looks better or worse now.

"Poor sap, what am I gonna do with you? Whats good a cure if there's no docs, only greedy men in this world." He tsks.

Yandere Daryl picks you up and carries you back to the group. He wraps a slightly torn shawl around your neck. It's one he found near the store you collapsed at. There's a reason you have been out here all these months.

You could'a just given up and died.

You could'a found a group.

Instead you found him again.

"Must've been fate, huh?" He chuckles humorlessly.

The way you looked at him. You're runnin' from somethin'. He just has to figure out what.

Yandere Daryl decides you're his to take care of. When he carries you into Alexandria, he doesn't let anyone else get their hands on you. He doesn't answer anyone's questions while he walks in and towards his house. He locks himself in and tells anyone that comes by to piss off.

Screw the rules and whatever the fuck.

You're a mystery that he has to solve.

So he grabs a change of clothes and some food for you. He plops them down on the table and sits in the opposite chair.

He doesn't mind waitin' for a while. It gives him plenty o' time to think. Somethin' in him is just stirrin'. He just can't decide what.

Yandere Daryl calms you down after you wake up. You can barely form words on those pretty lips and tongue of yours. Naturally, you question him and his motives. You're defensive and don't elaborate at first.

It takes just a handful of threats about exposing you and spreading around the fact there is an immune person to unravel your need for secrecy.

Somewhat.

You only tell him that you're being hunted by a group you were once with.

"Mind elaborating, hun?" Daryl draws out while looking over your figure for what feels like the thousandth time.

"I'll tell you—but I swear to God if you use this against me I'll stab you through the head a dozen times over."

"Fair nuff."

"They would—If you get bit and are injected with... well, enough of my blood then it acts as a cure..."

They fuckin' what?

Yandere Daryl vouches for you, and you end up in Alexandria. You get no ifs, ands, or buts about it. They assign you to his house. Daryl definitely convinced Rick that since you're a newcomer and you trust him more, he could keep a watchful eye on you. It totally isn't because there's this strange all possessing feeling that keeps latching onto his heart when you're around.

He keeps your secret safe n' sound. He manages to steal enough makeup from rundown stores to keep your healing bite covered up. He makes sure you are eating and getting healthier. He checks up on you before and after he gets done with a run. Hell, he reminds you of shit he forgets about all the time.

This does extend to him killing people to keep you safe. They looked at you wrong. Maybe one of the residents feels suspicious about you. They may even have confronted Daryl and questioned him. Oh, well. Just another one pushed to the biters.

Daryl has never had a strict moral compass. So he doesn't feel bad about murdering people who he is supposed to consider his neighbors.

Of course, those who came with him to Alexandria get the privilege of questionin' you just a bit. He's quick to shut that shit down, though.

Carol is the only one who is close enough to knowing that you are immune. She knows that Daryl has something more than platonic towards you. She also knows that you were injured with something that looked suspiciously like a walker bite mark when Daryl first lugged you in. (She snuck in and looked through your scarf while Daryl wasn't aware.)

She just isn't looking for trouble. She doesn't want to believe it, as it doesn't seem plausible. There have been too many false hopes from the CDC to Eugene.

So she let's Daryl foster his feelings towards you while watching out for you both. If Daryl ever oversteps a boundary with you, Carol will be there to knock him up side the head, call him a stupid redneck, and threaten him in the most motherly way possible. 

Yandere Daryl never saw you have so much terror in the eyes as the day he mentioned The Saviors. It clicked in his mind immediately. He has only felt that rage one other time in his life: when he learned Meryl had been handcuffed to the roof and left for dead.

He didn't think, but he acted. He held you and refused to let go. It's just so fuckin' unfair. He loses everyone that has a semblance of importance to him. Not you. Not this time.

His only thought was that he was going to burn every one of those fuckers to the ground—innocent or not.

[emswritingsstuff]

s1-2 daryl who gets jealous and angry with shane flirting with the reader? I have a feeling ur the best person who could make it work

Quite Badass (Daryl Dixon x Reader)

--

note: i quite enjoy writing for daryl, very fun. no warnings except maybe shane gets punched lolz

WC: 1.6k

--

Leaning up against the nearest tree, Daryl stood still. Letting his eyes scan over the camp. Everyone was sitting around doing their own chores and carrying on. His eyes soon found you as you were sitting around the small fire with Carol, seemingly just sewing. Looking down at his hands, he quickly turned around and retreated to his own spot. 

Since the beginning, Daryl had his eyes for you. You were so addictive to him, someone he could look at all day. It felt childish, like he was a teenager all over again; Having a ridiculous crush he could never speak about nor do anything about. Just freezing or getting too emotional everytime you both were together. He had felt ashamed, letting himself get so worked up over feelings, but he couldn’t help it. 

And so, he would just stick to far glances and looks, hoping he would never get caught by you. Or even worse by Shane. Which was a thought that invaded his mind constantly. Daryl, much to his dismay, wasn’t the only one that had eyes on you in the camp. Shane being his biggest competitor nowadays. He never liked Shane, and seeing how he was with you made him jealous. 

But he would never admit it was jealousy.

All things considered, he wasn’t sure of you and Shane’s relationship. But he figured if Shane kept pestering you everyday, the both of you had to be something. Maybe not official, but something. Made him angry, seeing you with such an asshole.  

Daryl was bitter, but it wasn’t like he had anything to be bitter about. You and him were just acquaintances at best and if you had to put a label on it. He was just bitter he would never get to have you for himself, for good. 

Now trying to pay attention to his own work, he started to mess around with his blots. Glenn had scored some new ones on a run, and now it was Daryl’s job to adjust the length to his crossbow. Getting absorbed into the work at hand, he didn’t pay any mind to what was going on in the camp. 

So much so, he didn’t even see the person walking up toward him. A shadow was casted over him and caused him to look up. Meeting your eyes, he quickly looked back down to his work. 

He had thought you were just going to see what he was doing and leave, but you stayed. Looking back up again, he looked you over. Holding a bunch of clothes in your arms, before he could speak you quickly flashed him a nice smile and spoke. 

“Stitched up some of your shirts and jeans. Figured you wouldn’t mind,” you gestured the clothes out to him. Standing up, Daryl took the clothes out of your hands and went to set them in his tent. Giving you a respectful nod and thanks, he proceeded to the tent.

Once coming back out he was surprised to see you were still standing there. Almost like you were mocking him, mocking he could never have you. 

“Anythin’ else ya need?” Daryl made his place where he originally was while still looking up at you. His tone was harsher than intended, but he was genuinely asking. But also slightly annoyed at the taunting he felt like he was enduring. He noticed you playing with your hands before you nervously spoke up. 

“Want help with those? I know what I’m doing. Got taught a while back,” scoffing slightly Daryl focused his attention back to the arrow he had been working on. 

“Don’t ya gotta hang around Shane or some shit,” his tone had some sort of venom in it. But you paid no mind, surprisingly, you just laughed. Looking back up he raised his eyebrow, “Wha’s so funny?” Finally discarding the arrow so all of his attention was on you. 

Calming down from your laughing fit, you composed yourself and explained the situation. “You think we’re a thing? Hell no, never in a million years. Bastard won’t take the hint,” sitting down next to him you both were finally on the same level. 

Now it all made sense to him, Daryl felt like an idiot. You’ve never once reciprocated Shane’s behaviors or gestures. Now he feels like the asshole.

Wiping his face with his hand, he sighed out of disappointment with himself. “M’Sorry,” you responded with a scoff and the wave of a hand. “If I was in your shoes, I would’ve thought the same thing. If you know, it wasn’t me,” Daryl flashed you a confused look but understood nonetheless

Staying silent for a minute, he tried to find a way to avoid the bigger situation at hand. Also known as, his feelings for you. Daryl reached down to the bolts in front of him and picked them up. Handing you some of the ones that were still factory cut and unworked on, he noticed a small smile on your face as you took them. Both of you finally working alongside each other. 

Both of you were silent, and it was comfortable. Getting away from the main group, and Shane, turning out to be the best thing for you. 

Nice things couldn’t last forever though. Both of your heads shot up to the sound of loud footsteps coming closer. Rolling your eyes and Daryl shaking his to himself, you both realized it was Shane. Maybe if you both ignored him, he’d leave? That was hopeful thinking.

Once he reached your spot, Shane just loomed over you both. More or less, he remained closer to Daryl, almost acting as if he was the man himself. Daryl didn’t look up, Shane didn’t deserve the respect of a greeting in his eyes, especially now learning he’d been on your case for so long. 

Placing his hands on his hips, Shane began to speak much to Daryl's annoyance. “Darlin’, why are you all the way out here? You know I want you to stay in my sight.” Shane’s tone gave off the impression of a controlling boyfriend, making Daryl cringe. The petname too, he was the only one who should call you that in his mind. 

“I was just helping Daryl, no harm done. I’m a grown adult, I don’t need someone to save me,” your voice was calm, and Daryl had to applaud that. If he was in your shoes he would’ve been off the walls. Shane just shook his head in response though, not taking your answer. 

“Doesn’t matter, you should’ve stayed in sight. You know how Dixon’s are,” Daryl could feel Shane’s judgemental stare piercing right through him. At that moment, Daryl shot up and pointed the arrow at Shane, “Jus’ fuck off already, don’t want ya here.” Daryl moved his arm to point at the main part of the camp, but Shane didn’t move, didn’t even move a muscle. 

Still smirking, Shane looked down and groaned looking back at you. He had puppy dog eyes, making Daryl cringe more than he already was. Shane inched closer to you and placed his arm around your shoulder. “How about you and I get out of here, go somewhere private?” Shane was now just looking at you, not even acknowledging Daryl was even there. At this point all Daryl could see was red, wanting to knock in Shane’s teeth at that very moment. 

“I think I’m okay here, Daryl’s good company,” You smiled looking at Daryl before Shane let out a small, mocking laugh. “Him? Darlin, a redneck like him doesn’t deserve a gem like you,” you scrunch your face in response and detached from him. Backing away slowly, Daryl watched as you slowly stepped toward him, seeking some sort of protection it seemed. 

Daryl instinctively made his place between you and Shane. Making a quiet tsk noise with his tongue, Shane shook his head. Despite his efforts to intimidate Daryl, it didn't work. 

Shane’s arm started to sneak up to reach out toward you, but not without a quick smack from Daryl. “Don’t.” 

“Or what?” the minute those words left Shane’s mouth a swift punch from Daryl was thrown. Shane stumbled back, a hand where Daryl’s fist collided. “Come around ‘er again, it won’t be a fist next time,” Daryl spit out. Which finally caused Shane to take his leave, but not before cursing Daryl under his breath. 

Daryl’s breathing fell heavy, calming down from all the adrenaline rushing through his veins. Looking down at the ground, he attempted to collect himself before facing you again. When suddenly he felt a soft hand grab his. Peeking over at his hand he noticed it was your hand in his. Your thumb was rubbing his hand in a slow motion, something to calm him down. And he found it worked, much to his surprise and yours. 

“Sorry,” Daryl interrupted himself with a sigh before he continued. “Got outta hand,” he tried to pull away from you, but you held his hand tighter. It was silent for a bit, neither of you not having a clue what to even say. You eventually broke the silence, seeming as cheery as ever. “How about we just finish these arrows? You’ll need them eventually.” Nodding in agreement, he let you drag him to sit down and work. 

For Daryl, it felt like the minutes dragged on. Feeling the regret of getting violent and also letting his emotions take over in front of you. “You know,” his head instantly shot up at the sound of your voice. “Never had a guy punch someone for me before,” Daryl felt his cheeks get hot before looking back to his work. “Yeah, well, Idiot wouldn’t shut up.” You laughed to yourself as you agreed, “True, but still. Pretty badass.” 

“Badass? Really?” Daryl chuckled a little at the makeshift complement, which caused you to laugh as well. Shrugging, you continued to work. Daryl’s eyes still remained on you and watched you work. As you looked up, Daryl moved his head down. He heard you laugh again before you eventually spoke, “At least now that Shane’s gone, you get to look at me up close.” 

[lunarnightt]

𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 ⎯ Carl Grimes

WARNINGS! ⎯ there are none! Just pure fluff! SUMMARY ⎯ Your father, Daryl Dixon, always treated your mother like a queen before she died; now you want someone to do the same, and who better than your best friend, Carl Grimes. A/N ⎯ This is based on the song 'Like My Father' by Jax. I also want to thank everyone who LOVED my Carl Grimes x Gothic reader so much! I love you all!

For as long as you could remember; your father treated your mother like a goddess, like a queen.

Whatever she wanted, she got. whatever she asked for, she got. There were never any ifs or buts about it. Your dad worshipped the ground she walked and treasured her like any man should do a woman.

As you got older, you watched your father do everything he could for your mother. He would constantly have dinner dates with her, and take her on romantic walks in the middle of the night when they thought you were asleep. This never changed when your mom got cancer and started doing chemo.

Your father shaved his own head with her so she wouldn't be alone, held her hand during every treatment, and watched her throw up blood until her last dying breath.

Your mother died before the world went to shit so there you were, sitting at the query watching other kids play with their moms and dads, silently resenting them for having both. Your mother was dead and your dad was cold and couldn't care what you did anymore because he was still grieving the loss of his wife.

That was when that changed; a little boy walked up to you and practically forced you to play with him. You would learn that his name was Carl and he too lost his dad but of course, we all know how that went.

Eventually, you and Carl became best friends; going and growing through hell together. You both survived through so much and yet you helped him look on the brighter side of life.

Over time, as you two grew older, the two of you slowly fell in love with one another but never said a thing because one- you're either running from the dead, and two- neither one of you thought you liked each other back.

But one thing was for certain; you wanted a man who loves you like you're father loved your mom.

It was like any other day for you and Carl. You both sat in your bedroom reading comic books, the soft sound of Johnny Cash playing in the background filling your ears.

You looked over at the Grimes boy, looking over the handsome features you've grown to love over the last few years; to his long shaggy hair, his beat-up cowboy hat, and his missing eye something he was very insecure of but you thought was badass.

Before he could catch your gaze though, you looked down and the record stopped playing which made the both of you groan. "Great. Now one of us has to get up and flip it over." You whined, crossing your arms over your chest and looking at the record player in your room.

Carl sighed and pushed himself off the ground, walking over to the record playing and taking the record off. "What are you doing?" You asked, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. Carl smiled and turned to you. "Putting on Abba. I thought Dancing Queen was your favorite and you want to listen to it?" He spoke and he wasn't entirely wrong.

"I do but I thought you wanted to listen to Johnny Cash?" You spoke softly and Carl just rolled his eye and turned to face you. "Does it matter what I want?" He spoke before turning to face the record player and placing the needle on the record, the song Dancing Queen filling the room as he made his way and sat back down next to you.

That day you knew that Carl was the type you wanted, the type you knew would love you like your father did to your mom.

So, you contemplated forever, debating on telling him how you felt but when you did; you wrote him a nice simple letter and left it on the inside of his hat. It took him a while but he finally found it, looking at it with confusion while the words "read me cowboy" jumped out at him in all capital letters.

He knew it was from you because only you called him cowboy and only you would do something like leaving a letter on the inside of his hat.

So, he read it as instructed and he became over the moon because not only did you tell him how you felt but you actually liked him back.

Carl rushed out of the house to look for you, going to all the places he knew you would be. He went to Rosita, to Maggie and Glenn's place because you loved playing with Herschal Jr before finally finding you training with Jesus.

"Looks like you're boyfriend is here" Jesus joked which made you roll your eyes and flip him off as you made your way over to Carl. "Hey cowboy" You spoke with a teasing smirk but your smirk was wiped clean off your face when he held up the letter.

"Are you telling the truth?" He asked, needing reassurance like he always did when he was unsure of something. You gave him a small smile and nodded your head. "Yes. Why would I lie to you of all people?" You asked and before you could say anything else, his lips were pressed against yours.

As the two of you kissed, your hand moved to the back of his neck while his hands moved to your waist. After a minute, the two of you pulled apart and he pressed his forehead against yours.

"You don't know how long I wanted to do that" He whispered against your lips and you giggled, moving to play with the soft locks of his hair. "It's about damn time, cowboy" You spoke back and he immediately pressed his lips against yours, capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

Ever since then, he truly loved you like your father did your mom and maybe even more than he ever did.

[haircoveredwriter]

Being a threat to Daryl has never worked out well for folks in TWDU.

Merle potentially could have caused issues in the prison: Carol threatened to kill him in his sleep.

The Terminites took him hostage and took away his crossbow: Terminus Carol.

Carol knew (though was never told explicitly) the Saviors did something to team family and Daryl while she was gone: Carol convinces the Kingdom to bring their guns and tiger in to save the day in ASZ.

Dream Alpha inferred Daryl might be in danger: Carol dislocated her own shoulder and took out a walker before going back home.

Lance threatened and tried to have Daryl killed multiple times: Bye bye, Lance.

French folk kindapped Daryl and put him on a boat for walker snacks:

[xoxo-sarah]

Reckless

↝a/n: reader is indeed a badass in this. A dumb one- but a badass nonetheless.

↝pairing:Daryl Dixon x fem!reader

↝warning: death, murder, weird guys, set after Negan shows up, Alexandria, fear of losing a loved one (Daryl and reader, separately),, reader endangers herself, pigs (men),cursing, slightly proofread, idk it's kinda graphic ngl, reader is kinda crazy but who isn't in twd universe?

|| 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. ||

↝⎙ 8.16.24

Note: Kate is reader's friend

“You ain't goin' out there.” Daryl said nonchalantly, bringing the lighter up to light the cigarette hanging between his cracked lips.

Taken aback, you could only stare at him. Watching as he leaned against the porch railing, looking at you with a calm look in his eye.

It's almost like he believed you wouldn't walk outside the gate of Alexandria. Like you would listen to him. You weren't about to argue about what you can and can't do, especially when a man is on the other side.

Huffing, you stomped past him, back into the house.

After Daryl finished the cigarette, he stood to his full height, turning to open the door. He grunted when the door wouldn't open.

“Seriously?”

You heard him on the other side, but didn't care. Kate was out there. Who was Daryl to tell you to stay in the safe zone, to not look for someone who would be out in the woods looking for you the second they heard you were missing? You knew it was dangerous, but that was the chance you were willing to take for a friend.

“Open the door.” Hiding the last bit of supplies, you twisted the lock, letting him open the door. Ignoring the glare he was sending you, you made your way to the bedroom, exiting with a blanket and pillow. “Are ya kiddin'? What, 'm I in the doghouse?”

“No,” you scoffed, throwing the blanket on the couch, and began to make it comfortable. “I'm not sleeping in the same bed as someone who thinks I can't take care of myself.”

“I didn't say that.”

“You implied it.” With that, you finally looked him in the eye, daring him to say another word.

Huffing, he made his way to the bedroom, slamming the door.

You stood in the darkness for a moment, thinking everything through, whilst also listening as he walked around the room, before the mattress springs creaked, letting you know he flopped on the bed. You give it 20-30 minutes before he gets up and tries to apologize, like he always did. You'd turn him down, of course, and he'd finally leave you alone for the night. Then you'd make your run for it.

Sticks and leaves crunched under your feet, the quiet of the night having the hair on your arms stand straight up. Light illuminated ahead of you, the flashlight held tightly in your grip, knife in the other hand. The backpack you were quick to pack only had a few things, but they were important. A pistol you stored with you at all times sat on your belt (only for emergencies), small first aid kit–in the hindsight you do find Kate– but she's hurt, a can of whatever was out on the kitchen counter that you didn't get the time to actually look at-it was probably a can of peaches or something-, water, and the thin blanket you kept sprawled across the back of the couch.

Hearing voices from the distance, you quickly cut your light, catching the smell of a fire, along with the sound of the crackle of wood and drunken laughter. You took your chance with your surroundings, putting your trust in what was blindly in front of you.

You managed to sneak closer, now being able to see the group from between the trees. They sat around the fire, cackling about God knows what, blood and grime coating their skin in a thick layer. They passed a bottle around the circle, taking a big swig to numb their reality. Looking around them, they set up an alarm type thing with empty cans connected to wire and string, something your group has done many times, especially when you were without a stable housing system.

Stained tents were close together, nearly side by side with how small the alarm system was. “She's a beauty.” One man snarled, standing to wobble toward one tent, unzipping it, bending over, and reaching into it.

He struggled for a minute, nearly losing his footing, before he straightened up, dragging the body over to the other guys. They whooped and hollered, passing the bottle around again.

The guy who pulled Kate out of the tent started playing with her matted hair, a nasty grin on his face. Your nails dug into your hand. There were 4 of them, all of which had an advantage for having Kate. Even if you were to attack them, they would probably kill her without a second thought.

She snarled, pulling at the rope that bound her hands behind her back. “Ain't she?” He bent down, closer to her ear. She pulled a disgusted face.

One guy cackled, loving her reactions for a sickly reason.

The handle of the knife nearly left a permanent indention on your palm, the skin beginning to sting.

Maybe if you brought something like a bow you could catch them off guard. But you didn't, alright?

You have a knife and a pistol.

“I think it's time to turn in, fellas.” Another guy stood, stretching his long, skinny limbs. The other guys mumbled an agreement, beginning to retreat.

Kate was dragged toward the fire by the original guy, “can't let you out of my sight, can I, pretty girl?”

Kate uttered a 'fuck you'.

The guy stood back from snuffing the fire pit with dirt, moving to lean over her. His hand caressed her cheek, dirt smearing. “ You have a mouth on ya, doncha?"

The knife slid across his throat in one quick motion, a garbled sound was put to an end as the knife punctured his skull quickly after. You laid his body down gently, glancing at the tents as you moved to Kate.

She silently watched you with wide eyes. To her, you just appeared out of the darkness, leaping over the wire and taking her and the guy by surprise. If anything, she didn't recognize you at first. You looked scary, crazed, even. Your eyes held a fiery she'd only seen a handful of times since the apocalypse started.

Finally untying her hands, where rope was tied in a tight knot, leaving her wrist red and raw, you heard rustling came from one of the tents, followed by, “I gotta take a leak.” Kate quickly scanned the dead body, taking the knife off his person.

You quietly blended in to the woods, running as fast as your limbs would let you. You could hear cursing from the tents. Far enough away, you slowed down, coming out of the woods. Kate heaved, rubbing at her wrist.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Rosita came back from the supply run, and she said you were taken.” The two of them had gone out early that morning, in search of something-anything to satisfy Negan.

“That was dangerous. Those were Negan's men.”

“They're disgusting.”

She couldn't disagree. You didn't see what they did before, or hear what they said. She was thankful for that. If she were to tell you, you'd turn around and go slaughter every one of them.

Coming to an abandoned, dead car, you settled in the driver's seat, helping her wrap her wrist and any small cuts she had on her body.

You offered her the can of peaches, opening it up with your knife for her. She took it, her stomach growling as soon as you uttered the word 'food'. She chugged the water. You watched.

You had known her before the apocalypse. She had it made, never having to starve or wait all day to eat, always having the comfortable bank account to just be able to buy whatever she was feeling at the moment. You had watched first hand as her life flipped upside down. Reckon she thought the same about you. Deep down, you knew she would've gone looking for you if the roles were reversed.

“They took everything we found, which wasn't much but still. I was going to drink that alcohol.” She broke the silence, slightly pouting her busted lip out. Your lip twitched, not quite finding the amusement in your body. “Surprised Daryl didn't come with you.”

“He didn't want me coming.” She nodded, understanding where he was coming from. “They were going to look for you in the morning, but a lot could happen between now and then. I couldn't risk it.”

“You're reckless.”

“You could've died,” you countered. Maybe you were reckless and stubborn, you didn't care at that moment.

The door suddenly swung open, a gun cocking as soon as the cold metal touched your temple. Kate yelped as she got dragged out, falling out on the broken asphalt. “You think you could do that shit and get away with it?” Alcohol wafted in your nostrils, hot breath fanning across your ear and neck. “Get out.” A harsh hand gripped your arm, pulling you out. He grabbed your knife, pocketing it before you had the time to use it. You could only see two out of the three surviving men from before. The other one was probably still at their camp, keeping an eye out.

The grip on your arm tightened.

Daryl stumbled out of the woods, hearing commotion on the old, worn down road. He saw the car, the men, your silhouette.

He saw the man in front of you, getting in your face. The darkness of the night didn't do anything to show your facial expression. But Daryl knew you, knew how you were holding your ground.

He loaded his bow, watching as a punch landed to your left cheek.

You fell to the floor, quickly shuffling closer to the car. You grabbed the jagged metal of the old can of peaches you had mindlessly discarded, swinging around and dragging it across his face, nicking your palm in the process, but you didn't care.

Daryl jogged closer, arrow ready to shoot, now aimed at the man holding Kate.

Before he could release the arrow, you grabbed the gun that was recently pointed at your head, swirling around to shoot the other guy right in the face, despite his scared protest, before aiming it at the man holding his face at your feet, cursing you, belittling you.

Daryl stood, stunned.

In the span of a minute and a half, you had killed two men without flinching.

—

The door to your bedroom creaked, Daryl stumbled out of it. He stood behind the couch, shirtless, his pants hanging low on his hips. His face was set in a scowl, his distaste about having to apologize evident on his face. “Ya know you're a badass. Ain't no secret. Didn't mean it like that, ya know that.” You grunted, giving him a taste of his own medicine. You were turned away from him, laid out across the couch as you glared at the wall through the darkness. The backpack laid under the couch, everything ready.

“Say somethin'.”

You turned on your back, looking up at him. You knew he was leaned across the back of the furniture, searching for your face in the darkness, you did the same. “Fine.” Your words held no truth to them, only evident annoyance.

He sighed, straightening his back. “It's dang-”

“It's dangerous, yeah, I know. Which is exactly why we need to look for her. There's no telling what has already happened to her, especially with Negan's men out there.”

“A group is goin' in the mornin'. First thing.”

You stayed silent. At least they were trying, and being smart about it. But you weren't using your brain, only your heart. She means too much to you to lose her. She's all you have left of the normal life, before all this.

“You gonna come to bed?”

Maybe you were being unreasonable.

“No.”

Daryl shuffled back to the bedroom, letting the door shut harshly behind him.

Three minutes later, you were quietly opening the back door and wiggling out. You blended into the night, walking around Alexandria without anyone noticing. You ran by the people on watch, making your escape. You ventured into the woods, Daryl's words in your head. You were a badass. Maybe not a smart one when it comes down to being rational, but a badass nonetheless.

Daryl shuffled out of bed, his throat feeling dry. His feet patted against the cold floor, hand coming up to rub at his eyes.

He stopped when he caught sight of the couch. You were probably asleep. Anger wore you out easily, he had noted very early on.

“Look, I know you're pissed at me, but I'm just tryin' to keep ya safe. I can't lose ya.”

The vulnerability was evident in his voice. Usually, you would comfort him, knowing he doesn't show his emotional state to just anyone.

It was true, he couldn't lose you. He fears he might actually go insane without you.

Ever since you two moved into the house of Alexandria, a fire burned in Daryl.

A fire that told him he could lose you at any moment, but also told him that he had to make it where he couldn't lose you. To try everything to keep you safe.

Negan was out there, in the shadows, waiting. He was waiting for one little slip up. He wasn't one to be merciful. Yet another threat on your head.

Daryl leaned forward, bringing his hand to find your body warmth, something to soothe him before he spirals. “Honey?”

He was met with cold silence.

—

“Well shit.”

You swirled around, gun aimed to kill. Daryl dropped his arm that held the bow, raising his other in surrender. A grin tugged at his lips, pure pride at seeing you take care of yourself like that.

•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!]

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Uh-Oh, There Was a Monster in My Bed

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Anytime, really

Warnings: Poorly written smut, p in v, hand job, edging, blindfold, choking

Summary: Sometimes, he was your good boy.

A/N: Help! I’ve fallen for subby Daryl and I can’t get up. I’ll check this for errors later. Also, I think I finally managed a drabble!!

*gif is not mine

“It’s okay, you can handle a little more, can’t you?” Your praise was met with a guttural moan, the muscles under your fingertips spasming before you lifted your hand from his thigh. Your palm traveled up the planes of his stomach and chest before slender fingers squeezed his throat. His hips bucked, cock twitching in your grasp. “You’re such a good boy for me.” Each stroke was torturously slow, leaving him almost whimpering and ready to beg for more friction. 

You released his neck and let your fingers crawl up to the blindfold, caressing the part of the cloth that lay over his temple. The idea had initially made him anxious, but Daryl trusted you. You established a safe word, but to his credit, he had not used it. And you had been torturing him for over an hour. 

Your index finger was in his mouth now, pressing on his tongue while you delighted in the sounds he offered at each stroke of your hand. Rising from your knees, you released his tongue and perched your naked cunt on his thigh, grinding against his jeans to seek some relief for yourself. You had only removed his shirt and opened his pants, a decision you were now regretting. Not much you could do with him tied to the chair, though. 

“Y/N.” He groaned, his head falling back, each breath a sharp pant. You answered with a hum, closing your lips around his nipple. “I—I need—”

“Not yet.” 

He bucked again with a whine. Dragging your thumb over his tip to collect the liquid there, you licked your lips when your next strokes sounded wet and sinful. You yourself had nearly had enough and released him, lifting off his thigh. His head dropped forward and angled to the side, listening to your movements. 

You threw a leg over him, sinking onto his length without warning, your velvet heat causing him to twitch. “Don’t you dare.” You warned, giving him no time before both hands roughly grabbed his hair and wrenched back his head. He somehow managed to refrain, breathing harshly through his nose. The pace you set was brutal, bouncing up and down with abandon to chase your own high. 

“Y/N—Y/N, please—” He begged through clenched teeth. He was barely hanging on. 

“Tell me what you want, baby.” Your fingers twisted in his mane, earning a high-pitched keening noise. 

“I need—lemme cum.” 

You offered another hum, swallowing his moan with a rough kiss. “My good boy needs to cum?” One hand fell to his shoulder to help you balance, your thighs beginning to burn. 

“Fuck. Yes, please.”

“I love it when you beg.” Your words whispered against the skin just below his ear, your teeth finding his pulse to nibble on the flesh there. You felt the fire building in the pit of your own stomach, your walls fluttering around him as the familiar tingle began to race out through your veins. “Alright, Daryl. You can cum.” You almost didn’t make it to the last word, your orgrasm crashing over you. Your pace slowed but didn’t cease, coaxing him to the precipice so you could force your eyes open to watch him fall apart. He writhed in the chair, mouth hanging open while his muscles twitched and flexed. Warmth flooded within you, the contractions of your cunt milking the most delicious sounds from him while his seed filled you. 

“That’s my good boy.” You rocked atop him gently, drawing out both of your highs until you were oversensitive. Once you had stilled, you smiled and kissed him delicately, pulling the blindfold away. “Such a good boy.” 

Outside, he was a badass archer, afraid of nothing. 

Inside the walls of your home, he would always be your good boy.