#daryl dixon season one

[sadslay]

- BASOREXIA ⋆☆ 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

(n.) the overwhelming desire, or sudden urge, to kiss someone.

warnings — set during s1 ep6, very short (sorry), light nsfw content

daryl hadn’t known you for long, no more then a few weeks at most but in the short time he had known you, he felt as though he’d known you for years. thanks to not only his brother’s judgements but also his own, he believed you to be some entitled snob that would never looked twice in his direction. his jaw had just about hit the ground when he had discovered you had both grown up in the same neighbourhood, even went to the same community school before him and merle had moved away.

he could never describe the way he felt around you. daryl had always understood he was never smart, not in the ways that mattered or not in the ways that would impress you but he was sure - so goddamn sure - that were was a word or two to describe the way he’d felt about you in the short time he had come to know you. the word daryl was searching for - but would never find - was basorexia.

sitting on a countertop behind a rounded table, watching the others cheer and pour drinks brought a sense of familiarity to you. it reminded you of a simpler time. you focused on lori and rick as they playfully bickered on weather or not their son should try some of the red wine dale was serving, but daryl - who sat beside you, nursing a bottle of beer- was entirely focused on you. the way you looked under the white led lighting of the cdc bunker and the way you giggled as carl pushed away the small cup of wine he had just tried. everything you did was perfect in his eyes, absolutely everything.

“you gonna share that bottle dixon?” you queried, gently nudging into his shoulder as you flashed him cheeky grin.

daryl let out a breathy chuckle, not saying a word before handing you the brown bottle, watching you intently as you brought the bottle up to your lips.

“you should stick to soda pop kid.” shane mumbled as daryl stood up to walk around the table, in hopes to secure another bottle as the current one had almost run out.

“not you glenn.” daryl smiled - that was one of the first times you had seen him genuinely smile - leaning in to grab another bottle before teasing, “keep drinkin’ little man, i wanna see how red your face can get.”

“it seems to me we haven't thanked our host properly.” rick spoke, standing up to look at the man who had reluctantly let us in an hour or so prior.

“he is more than just our host.” t-dog smiled, raising his glass of red wine.

“booyah!” daryl cheered, raising a bottle of spirits into the air before sitting back down beside you, offering you a sip of the new liquor.

you placed the empty bottle of beer beside you before taking the bottle what you assumed was whiskey and cheering, “booyah!” before taking a swig.

“so when are you gonna tell us what the hell happened here, doc?” shane asked, breaking the cheers and thanks coming from around the room, and almost instantly everyone fell quiet. “all the ah the other doctors that were supposed to be figuring out what happened, where are they?” he asked, looking at the lone scientist.

“we're celebrating, shane.” rick answered quickly, sitting back down beside his son. “don't need to do this now.” he added.

“whoa, wait a second. this is why we're here, right?” shane asked rhetorically, looking at rick before continuing. “this was your move, supposed to find all the answers but instead we uh we found him.” shane explained, his very tome and expression seeming on edge and untrusting. “found one man. why?”

“well, when things got bad, a lot of people just left. went off to be with their families and when things got worse, when the military got overrun, the rest bolted.” the scientist explained, the entire mood shifting.

“every last one?” shane asked sarcastically.

“no, many couldn't face walking out the door. they... opted out. there was a rash of suicides. that was a bad time.” the scientist continued, his voice shaky as he explained the fate of the cdc.

“you didn't leave. why?” andrea asked, placing her half empty glass of wine onto the crowded table.

“i just kept working. hoping to do some good.” he explained.

“dude, you are such a buzzkill, man.” glenn groaned, looking at shane as he slumped back into his chair.

later that night, after every had begun settling in for the night you found yourself lying awake in a sleeping bag a meter or so away from glenn. your hair was still damp from the warm shower you had no more then an hour prior. you pulled yourself up from the sleeping bag, wrapping your arms around your chest before wandering out into the hallway to find all but one light left on. daryls room. the door had been left open, allowing you to lean up against the doorframe as you watched daryl pull a clean shirt over his head and shoulders before noticing the brown bottle by the head of his sleeping bag.

“still hoggin’ the bottle huh dixon?” you giggled, causing daryl to spin around as the rest of his shirt fell down his torso.

he weakly scoffed as his eyes traced up and down your body, most of your legs exposed from the shorts you had found in some drawers while a baggy shirt hid most of your figure.

“d’yer reckon we could find the rest of ‘is stash?” you asked eagerly, looking up at daryl as a breathy chuckle fell from his lips.

“nah, yer cut off woman.” he chortled, as you walked further into his room “yer already drunk as i am.” daryl added.

your eyebrows almost immediately pinched together as you dramatically scoffed, “that shower sobered me up real good.” you teased, bending down to grab the bottle before taking a sip of the room temperature liquor. “‘n what would be so wrong with that?” you asked, folding your arms across your chest.

“nothin’!” he defended, his hands weakly rising into the air before dropping back by his side. “s’just you look like you can’t handle your booze is all.” daryl teased.

you dropped down onto the near by couch as you slurred, “i can handle my liquor jus’ fine.”

closely you watched daryl as he plopped down beside you, taking the brown bottle from your hand before taking another swig.

“women can never handle their liquor.” he mumbled, a weak laugh escaping his lips, making you frown.

“dixon.” you mumbled, looking across to his eyes as they remained focused on the bottle in front of him. “that sounds like a challenge.” you smirked causing the man to look up with a devilish grin plastered on his lips.

he extended his arm, offering the bottle to you. you took the bottle from daryl causing a soft giggle to leave your lips as you brought the rim of the bottle up to your mouth. taking another swig of the brown liquor - burning your throat - you rested the bottle in your lap.

“yer gonna be wasted.” he noted, trying to hide the grin sneaking onto his lips.

“you’ve never even seen me drink,” i scoffed, “for all you know i could’ve been a drunk before all of this rubbish.” i added, handing the bottle back to daryl as he shuffled a little closer.

“‘cept i do, yer told me ‘bout an hour ago that you barely had your first drink before the world went to shi-.” daryl teased, his words cut off as your hand covered his mouth, quietly shushing him.

“i told you that in confidence, and i said first legal drink.” you pouted as daryl’s hand lifted up to connect with yours that was still covering the majority of his mouth.

you could feel daryls breath on the palm of your hand as he let out a small chuckle but as his hands slowly began to peel yours away from his mouth, his lips began to purse, leaving a soft kiss on your skin. you watched him as his lips continued further down your wrist, his hand loosening before finally letting go to reattach at the base of your neck, pulling you closer to him as you lips met. quicker then you could have ever imagined the kiss grew heated and passionate as you found yourselves pulling each other closer. in an act of desperation you pulled yourself onto his lap, resting your knees on either sides of his hips as you sat down on his lap, but it still didn’t feel close enough.

when you had suddenly pulled your lips away from daryls, leaving him confused and afraid that he had overstepped, but as your hands cradled his cheeks and a smile began to creep onto your lips he was left in a state of confusion.

“been waitin’ for yer to do this for a while.” you grinned, your eyes wandering around daryls face, admiring every little detail thanks to the close proximity.

“thought you were only doin’ this cause you’d been drinkin’.” he answered glumly, his hands still loosely hovering over your hips.

you shrugged weakly, a smirk creeping onto your lips as you whispered, “needed some liquid courage.” before your lips connected to his prickled jawline.

“scared of me huh?” he asked, his grip tightening around your waist as your delicate kisses began to tickle his skin.

“m’not scared of you.” you mumbled into the crook of his neck, slowly beginning to work your way back to his lips.

but just as you went to reconnect your lips, daryl slightly pulled away, his eyebrows pinched together as he whispered, “ya think i’d say no to yer?”

you stayed silent, shyly nodding. heavy breaths filled the room as a weak muffled scoff left daryls lips. you let out a little chuckle at your own foolish mind for getting in the way of an action you had been wanting to pursue for some time now.

“didn’t think i was your type.” you commented, combing a piece of hair out of your face before your hand reattached to the base of daryl’s neck.

“didn’t think i was ya type either.” he breathlessly chuckled, his hands remaining firmly gripped onto your waist.

a soft giggle left your lips as your lips momentarily connected with daryls before pulling away to whisper, “your one hundred percent my type.” you smiled, your very words making daryl scoff in disbelief before your lips reconnected with his.

daryl was in heaven on earth. he had never imagined this happening and now with you on his lap, your mouth slowly beginning to part from his lips as you trailed down his chin and jaw, your entire body now beginning to slide down. his chest rose and fell heavily as you rested on your knees, your hands now beginning to fiddle with his belt buckle.

“ya- yer don’ have ta-“ a groan slipped from daryls lips as you began to peel away his jeans, the very action sending him into a euphoric state and with you on your knees before him, something much more lustful and libidinous began to grow.

the following morning daryl woke up to you wrapped around his body, the sleeping bag - intended for one person use - was sprawled out over your two bodies, providing some warmth. your arms were wrapped around his torso, and your legs were intertwined with his. daryl looked down at you, admiring your soft delicate feature as you peacefully slept for the first time in months.

daryl thought you were so deep in sleep that nothing could possibly wake you, so when a strand of your hair fell across your face, tickling your nose and lips, daryls hand rose from his side. as he began to brush away your hair, your eyes began to flutter open, causing daryl to freeze as he trucked the strand of hair behind your ear.

“morning.” you grumbled, your arms pulling away from the warmth of daryls body to stretch.

“mornin’.” he hummed, following your actions of sitting up right, the pair of you sitting shoulder to shoulder. “yer hungover?” daryl teased, beginning to rub his face before combing his hair out of his face.

“shut up.”

[ricksmarlene]

#fall aesthetic in the apocalypse 🍂

[daryltwdixon]

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Tension at camp is nothing new, but after Daryl nearly takes a swing at Shane, you pull him away to the quarry, offering a distraction that quickly turns into something else entirely.

Tags: smut MDNI, pinv, fem reader, pullout method, kissing, public(ish) sex, outdoor sex, quickie, quarry!daryl, protective!daryl, husband!daryl, shane ‘tell ya what’ walsh is an ass what's new, little bit of praise kink, established relationship, sweet relationship, age gap mentioned but not specified

a/n: I’ve been watching season 1 on repeat too often. I remember when I didn’t think quarry Daryl was that cute and now I’m FERAL for the man. Top 3 fave versions of this man that’s for damn certain. thank you for reading!! lmk what you think!

The smell of campfire smoke was thick in the air, clinging to your clothes, your skin, following you no matter where you sat. It was the first time in a while you’d joined the others instead of sitting around the separate fire Merle usually built on the other side of camp. But with him gone on a recent run into the city with a few of the others, along with the sight of the pile of fish Andrea and Amy had hauled in, you told Daryl the best way to get a bite was to play nice and sit with the group—unless, of course, he wanted squirrel stew for the fifth night in a row.

But now, sitting there, you were starting to regret that decision.

Even with the world gone to hell and class lines erased overnight, some things hadn’t changed. They still shrank away from you, their discomfort as thick as the smoke curling through the air. And Daryl? They didn’t just avoid him. They dismissed him. Ignored him. Like he wasn’t worth a second glance.

You didn’t pay it any mind. You were used to people underestimating him, used to them not seeing him for who he really was. Beneath the sharp stares and sharper tongue, he was a good man. Your man. And these people—they’d never understand that.

The sun dipped lower, setting the valley in a wash of pink and orange, the glow of the fire growing brighter with every passing minute. Conversations murmured around you, voices low as they discussed camp security—how to reinforce their perimeter, how to keep the geeks out. So far, they’d been lucky, nestled deep in the woods with none of the dead stumbling through just yet.

Still, that luck wouldn’t last forever.

You shifted, glancing toward the tree line. “We could set up noise traps,” you offered. “Tin cans, broken glass—something to warn us if somethin’s comin’.”

The second the words left your mouth, Shane, a man with dark eyes and even darker scowl, scoffed as he paused mid conversation with another resident. You barely had time to blink before he turned on you, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe you’d had the audacity to speak up.

“Yeah? That what you think?” He let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Tell you what, next time I need advice on how to run this place, I’ll be sure to come find you, sweetheart.”

The word dripped with condescension, slow and deliberate.

Your lip curled, rolling your eyes as you turned away. “Dick,” you muttered under your breath.

Shane barely let a beat pass before he fired back, voice laced with smug amusement.

“Better watch your lil’ backwoods girl there, Dixon,” he sneered, dark eyes flicking toward Daryl. “Might just have to give her somethin’ to scoff about with that mouth on ‘er.”

Silence hushed over the group like an uneasy wave. The fire popped, the only sound in the sudden, tense stillness as the eyes of everyone in the camp turned to look at you.

There was a loud scrape of metal groaning, Daryl’s lawn chair shoving back under him as he stood abruptly.

“The hell d’you just say, asshole?” he snapped, voice sharp as steel.

Shane barely flinched. His jaw worked, tension coiled tight in his shoulders, but instead of rising to the fight, he let out a slow breath through his nose. He ran a hand down his face, shaking his head.

“Christ, Dixon,” he muttered, voice low, measured, not even smug, just tired. “Ain’t gotta get all riled up. Was just a joke.”

Daryl’s hands curled into fists. “Yeah? Didn’t sound like one.”

Shane exhaled hard, eyes flicking around at the others watching before landing back on Daryl. His expression hardened.

"Ain't my fault you can't take a joke, Dixon. Least when your brother was here, we didn't have to listen to you run your mouth. He at least kept you on your side of camp.”

Daryl’s knuckles went white, his fists clenching tighter as he glared. Across the fire, Shane held his gaze, eyes steady—calm, almost—but there was a challenge in them, a quiet go on, do it lingering beneath the surface, prodding without a word.

You felt the fight still coiled tight in Daryl’s body as you wrapped your fingers around his upper arm, could feel the way his muscles flexed under your grip, the way his whole damn being was strung tight. You stepped in closer, lowering your voice so only he could hear. “Come on,” you murmured, his body warm as your hand curled tighter around his bicep, firm but gentle. “Let’s get outta here.”

Daryl didn’t move at first, his breathing still uneven, his fists still clenched.

Then, finally, he exhaled sharply and let you pull him back, turning away from the fire, from the camp, from the people who would never understand either of you.

The sun's dying light stretched long over the jagged rocks of the valley below, the water rippling in deep, coppery hues as you walked down to the quarry to get your mind off the argument at the firepit. 

When you finally got to the bottom, Daryl leaned against a boulder, his face half-lit in the glow of dusk. He'd been quiet most of the evening, despite his blow up earlier, deep blue eyes flicking to you like he was chewing on something he didn’t quite know how to spit out.

You stepped in front of him, close enough to smell the sweat and earth clinging to his shirt, the faint scent of pine from the day hunting. "I’m sorry about…about whatever that was,”

His jaw ticked. “Ain’t nothin’ for you to apologize for,” he muttered, but he wasn’t looking at you, gaze fixed somewhere past your shoulder. “Dickhead don’t even know good advice if it hit ‘em upside the head.”

You sighed, reaching up to brush a short lock of hair from his forehead. He let out a breath, more like a huff than anything, barely audible, but you caught it.

“You always get like this when you’re thinking too hard,” you teased softly. “What is this really about?”

His lips pressed together, jaw working, like he was still chewing on the words. Then, as natural as breathing, his fingers found your waist, rough and certain, pulling you in just a little closer.

“Just don’t want ‘em talkin’ to ya like that,” he admitted, voice gruff, quieter than the night settling around you. “Like you ain’t worth listenin’ to. Like you ain’t got a damn brain in your head. They only do it ‘cause you’re with me.”

Your chest ached at the frustration in his voice, the way it came out stiff, like he hated even saying it out loud.

“Daryl…”

“They already look at me like I don’t belong here,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Ain’t gonna let ‘em do that to you too.”

You cupped his jaw, fingers grazing over the rough stubble, waiting until he finally looked at you. His blue eyes were sharp, searching, like he was waiting for you to tell him he was wrong.

“I don’t give a shit what they think,” you murmured. “I chose you. You get that, right?”

Daryl swallowed hard, something flickering across his face–vulnerable and open, his brute mask slipping now that it was just the two of you. His grip on you tightened, his body pressing just a little closer, his breath warm against your skin.

“I ain’t gonna let ‘em make you feel small,” he muttered, almost more to himself than to you.

Your chest ached at the way he said it, like he wasn’t sure how to handle the way he cared. Like the thought of letting them think so little of you was gnawing at the edges of his mind. Your thumb traced over his skin as you held his face, grazing over his bottom lip, his chin, until you leaned in.

“You don’t have to,” you murmured, lips barely ghosting over his. “I know who I am. And I know who you are. Even if they can’t see it.”

His blue eyes caught to yours, something different in them, something raw and sweet that no one else was ever allowed to see. Then, before you could say another word, his mouth was on yours, sweet and gentle, lips chapped but insistent. His hands gripped your waist tighter, pulling you closer until there was nothing between you but the fast, unsteady rhythm of your heartbeats.

You melted into him, hands sliding around his neck, letting the kiss ignite into need and heat, letting him pour everything into it—his frustration, his fear, the love he wasn’t good at putting into words. The quarry was silent except for the quiet rush of the wind over the water and the uneven breaths you shared between kisses.

When he finally pulled back, forehead resting against yours, he took a long moment just to breathe as he closed his eyes. His hands stayed on you, gripping you tightly against him, and you couldn’t help the smile that tugged across your lips.

"Thinkin' too hard again?" you whispered.

He huffed a quiet laugh. "Shut up," he muttered, but his lips brushed yours again, even softer this time, like he couldn’t help himself.

No one understood Daryl like you did. Not the folks at camp, not the people who side-eyed him like he was nothing but trouble, not even his own damn brother.

Thing was, no one really tried to know Daryl. They saw the brittle edges, the temper, the way he kept to himself. They saw the bickering between him and Merle, the way he came back from hunts with blood on his hands, all silent and brooding.

But you saw the man beneath all that.

Before the world turned upside down, you saw him for what he truly was. Gentle in ways he didn’t realize, kind in ways he never gave himself credit for. A man who had spent his whole life bracing for a fight, wearing his rough edges like armor, until you came along and showed him there was more to life than just surviving, even before the dead came back to life.

You were younger, but that never mattered to you. And once you finally convinced him that nothing—not even a pesky thing like an age gap, and definitely not his own doubts of whether he was good for you—was going to stop you from being with him, you watched him… soften. Let you in. 

You saw him on lazy summer afternoons, stretched out in the bed of his truck, hands behind his head, cigarette hanging loosely from his lips as he stared up at the sky. You saw him when he picked you up for late-night drives, old country rock humming low from the radio, one hand on the wheel, the other resting warm on your thigh.

Back then, he was just a man trying to carve out a place in a world that had never been kind to him. A man with rough hands but a soft touch when they traced the curve of your back. A man who met the world with a scowl but looked at you like you were a miracle—something precious, something his, something he’d spend a lifetime trying to deserve.

You remembered the nights he’d come to you after a bad fight with Merle, his knuckles split, his jaw clenched. He’d never talk about it, never tell you what happened—but he’d let you run your fingers through his hair, let you patch him up in the glow of your bedside lamp.

“You’re too good for me,” he’d mutter sometimes, voice low, like he wasn’t sure he wanted you to hear it. Like he was afraid that this time you’d believe him and run for the hills.

And you’d brush your fingers through his hair, tilt his chin so he had no choice but to meet your eyes.

"You don’t get to decide that," you’d tell him, voice warm, certain.

He never argued. Just pulled you close, held onto you like he was afraid you’d slip through his fingers.

And now, here in the middle of the world ending, he still held onto you like that.

The way those rough, calloused hands could still be careful, still be tender when they touched you. The way he always put himself between you and trouble, whether it was a walker shambling too close or some asshole in camp running his mouth. The way he let you get near, let you see him in a way no one else did.

Some things hadn’t changed, even when everything else had.

Something about those memories had your lips crashing back onto his, pressing him against the boulder with a force that made him grunt softly into your mouth. His fingers dug into your waist, like he wasn’t sure if he should stop you or drag you closer, but you didn’t give him a choice.

You grabbed the collar of his dirty shirt, fisting the fabric as you kissed him deep, claiming, letting him feel the way you wanted him. He let you have it—let you take and take, let you push up on your toes and press into him like you couldn’t get close enough.

Then, when your hips rolled just right against his, he growled. Low, guttural, needy against your mouth.

His hands slid down, gripping the curve of your ass, dragging you closer until your hips fit against the hard press of him. You gasped against his lips, nails raking up the nape of his neck, and pulled the short hair that stuck there, and that was what made something snap in him.

He twisted you around so fast you barely had time to think, hands gripping your hips as he pressed you forward, your palms bracing against the boulder. The rough stone bit into your skin, but it barely registered. Not with the heat of him behind you, breath hot against your neck, hands dragging under your shirt, spanning wide over your ribs before sliding down.

“You want somethin’ from me, girl? Hmm?” His voice was ragged but taunting, sending goosebumps down your spine as he leaned his body over you. 

A sharp breath left you when he pulled your hips back against him, grinding slow, measured, and the stiff press of his cock behind his jeans made your eyes roll, feeling just how much he wanted you too.

His lips dragged over the back of your neck, sucking in a breath like a hiss when you pressed your ass back into him.

“You, w–want you, Dare,” you murmured, the sound of his name breaking something open in him.

His fingers hooked under the waistband of your denim shorts, yanking them down with a roughness that made your breath catch, the cooling night air biting against flushed skin.

After the clatter of his belt buckle and the sharp zip of his jeans, he was on you—kissing your shoulder where the strap of your shirt fell, your neck, anywhere his lips could reach. Then he was there—thick, warm, heady with a scent that made you dizzy. He pressed the tip of his cock into you with a need so desperate it made your knees weak. Your center was slick with wanton need just from his touch, his kisses, the way he took you like he had to—like it was instinct, carved into him, a hunger he could never ignore. His hands splayed over your stomach, dragging you back onto him with a solid thrust, his breath heavy against your shoulder as he took you to the hilt in one long press of his hips. 

“I love you,” he said, voice hoarse as he continued to press open mouthed kisses to your skin, “Love you so god damn much,”

The sun dipped lower, its dying light casting everything in cool blue and shadow, the only warmth now rolling off Daryl’s body. You turned your head, reaching back to thread your fingers into his hair, tugging until his lips found yours in a kiss that was all teeth and hunger. It was haphazard, messy in the way that made it real—the slide of tongues, the clash of breath, the moan that tore from your throat, loud and shameless against the quiet night.

He groaned into your mouth, swallowing the sound, pressing his forehead against yours for the briefest second before dragging his lips down your jaw, your neck, everywhere he could reach with his mouth. His hips rolled in steady, aching thrusts, sinking deep before dragging his cock out slow, teasing, making you squirm against the rock.

“I love you too,” you murmured, voice wrecked, sincere. “Always, Daryl.”

His jaw slacked and he rested his face against your shoulder, his pace growing rougher, more erratic, each thrust punctuated by the sharp slap of skin against skin, his groans mixing with the wet, sinful sounds of your bodies joining in the cool evening air.

“So good f’me, baby,” he whimpered, the sound raw, unraveling. His hand slipped between you and the rough stone in front of you, fingers seeking, finding, calloused fingertips pressing into the heat of you. He knew your body too damn well—knew exactly how to wind you up, knew what it took to have you gasping, shaking, screaming his name just the way he liked it.

“Daryl, it’s—too much—they’ll hear—” you choked, gasping as his fingers worked tight, slow circles over your swollen clit, a shudder wracking through your body.

His lips dragged up the side of your neck, breath hot, voice ragged.

“Fuck ‘em,” he murmured, his voice low and grinding. “Wanna hear every pretty sound you make for me. Wanna feel you come on my cock, just like you always do—c’mon now, baby, give it to me. Be a good girl now.”

A shudder rolled through you, his words sinking deep, making it impossible to fight the pleasure coiling hot in your belly. His fingers pressed harder, circling your clit with devastating precision, his thrusts turning sharp and frantic.

You bit your lip, trying to smother the cry threatening to break free, but he wasn’t having it.

Daryl’s free hand came up across your chest, fingers gripping your jaw, tilting your head so his lips were right against your ear. “Don’t you hold back on me,” he rasped. “Wanna hear you, feel you, know you’re mine.”

Your body tensed, the pleasure mounting too fast, too sharp, and when his teeth scraped down against your pulse point, it sent you flying. 

Your moan broke free, loud and inhibited as your eyes rolled back, Daryl groaning in response, the noise tearing from his throat as his hips slammed in rhythm with his fingers against you.

“There it is,” he gritted out, voice strained. “That’s my girl, fuck—jus’ like that, baby.”

The pleasure tore through you like wildfire, your palms trembling against the rough stone. Your walls clenched tight around him, and Daryl let out a deep, wrecked fuck, his rhythm faltering as he chased his own release.

With a sharp curse, he pulled his hand from your clit once he knew you were through, his breath hot and ragged against your shoulder. His thrusts grew erratic, deeper, rougher, chasing his own release. At the last second, he pulled out, his fist working over his cock, a deep, guttural groan tearing from his throat as thick ropes of cum spilled onto your lower back, hot and slick against your skin.

For a long moment, all that filled the night air was the sound of heavy breathing, the cool breeze ghosting over sweat-slicked skin.

You turned your head, looking at him over your shoulder, a lazy smile tugging at your lips. “Come wash up with me?”

Daryl huffed, still catching his breath, his hands squeezing at your hips like he wasn’t ready to let you go just yet. “Yeah? That what you want?”

You leaned back just enough for your ass to brush against him, teasing, knowing exactly what you were doing. “Well… we’re already dirty,” you mused, glancing at him with a glint in your eyes. “Might as well get clean together.”

Daryl let out a rough chuckle, his fingers dragging slow and deliberate over your skin. “You’re killin’ me, girl.”

You grinned, pulling off the rest of your clothes before taking his hand and tugging him towards the water’s edge.

“Well? You comin’?”

[darylsfavoritegirl]

Yk that argument Daryl had with Shane at the barn? Put your own spin on it and include the reader somehow, maybe she even tries to break them up and he is still pissed. Afterwards he goes off to sulk in his anger trying to ignore you, but it’s too hard

۶•ৎ

The Odd Man Out

There you all were, away from Hershel's house, near the barn. Your heart was pumping blood more than what felt like necessary, your knees had become weak, all ready to betray you and cause you to collapse to the ground.

"This is unacceptable, man." Shane breathed out with fire, drawing circles infront of the barn gate.

"All this time..." He didn't finish his sentence and chuckled exasperatedly.

"Shane. Calm down. This is Hershel's land."

"I'll- I'll find a way to figure this-"

Shane came at Rick when Lori got between the two of them, pressing her right hand to Shane's chest. Her eyes scolded him as Shane gave her a quick stare and rolled his eyes.

Shane was staring at the barn gate, hands rested on his hips, shaking his head as all you could hear was him mumbling to himself.

Your eyes scanned the barn and its perimeter, observing every distressed face.

"You know we gotta leave man. Now we been talking about Fort Benning for a while..." Shane turned to all of you as Rick didn't let him say a word and raised his hand as a warning.

"We can't leave." He shook his head.

The side of your eyes caught Carol and how he wrapped her arms around herself, bottom lip trembling, eyes glossy with tears to come.

"My daughter is out there." Her voice was shaky. She looked taken aback as everyone gazed upon her. You could tell she didn't like to be the center of attention, especially at a time like this.

"We're gonna find your daughter, OK?" Lori rushed to Carol, offering a sense of support as she squeezed her arm, they were glued to one another.

Your eyes shifted to Shane as you shielded your eyes from the sun. He studied your face for a second or so. A faint snicker painted his lips. He knew why you had stayed quiet so far, he was the one that you spoke in discreet -though you felt that the cat was gonna be out of the bag any second-

You felt uneasy under his gloomy gaze as you looked away, changing your position in which you rested your entire body weight on one leg, arms crossed. You eyes were fixated on the others for a brief second to see if anyone caught that tense eye contact you happened to make with the most troubled man in the group.

Shane walked past you, not skipping to give you one last dark stare as he made his way to Rick.

"I think it's the time that we all start to just consider the other possibility."

You sensed everyone tilting their heads to his direction. Daryl stood next to you, you almost heard his breathing go more and more shallow, irritation growing denser through his veins as he fixated his eyes on him; squiented as ever, dauntless as ever.

"I ain't leavin' no one behind." He squiented his eyes at him, his body still as a stone as you could see he clenched his jaw firmly.

Shane ran his hand through his shaved head as he clasped his hands over it.

"Nah man, I-" Shane were to start another babbling session on a bothersome argument right when you flinched at Daryl's loud words.

"I'm close ta findin' dis girl. I jus' found a damn doll two days ago" He was coming at Shane when you felt like it was time you partook in this before it got out of hand.

"You found a doll, Daryl. That's what you did, you found a doll."

Shane pressed his lips together as he leered at Carol before speaking.

"All I'm sayin' is she could've been dead by now and we're-"

"Enough. Shane, enough." You looked at him in disbelief, eyes wide with your hand reflexively being up in the air towards his direction as a sense of warning before he took this any further.

"Ya dun' know the hell yer talkin' 'bout."

It was Shane one side and Daryl on the other side. Things got ugly pretty swiftly as you had to step back when Daryl came at him but it wasn't a few seconds later that you stepped in once again, punches flying in the air, some hitting your chin with their elbows. Your head and body were thrown back by their aggression reflected on their action.

Dust particles, the strings of hays that were laid out on the perimeter were awakened by this fallout. Your eyes got stung by them, this was like hell that you had no control in whatsoever.

"Hey, you back off."

"Come on now." Dale asserted.

It was Rick, Lori and you trying to break them up. Under the heat of the sun, with your red faces and greased clothes were you tossed in a fight near a barn full of walkers.

"Leave. Leave now." You demanded Shane. You pointed him with your finger, forehead wrinkled and brows creased as he clapped his hands in an amusing manner.

"You got a real mouth on you, I'll give you that." He cackled and continued with his chest heaving.

"Now you care? 'Cause last time I checked you were the one who said 'it's a waste of time anyway' " He waved his hands next to his head theatrically and thinned his voice as if to mock you.

"That's not what I said prick." You stepped forward, walking slowly as you widened your eyes. You were trying to catch your breath, unevenly panting as your eyes were out of focus.

It was Daryl's voice that stopped you

" 'S this true?" He had his hands on his hips, gazing upon you through his lashes. It was like he was let down, couldn't even stomach looking you in the eyes, though his eyes had an uneasy beam to them, as if what you were about to say meant more than what both of you could ever dare to imagine.

"No" You shook your head, you clenched your fists without noticing. You felt goosebumps swarming all over your body, somehow making you chill under the radiant sun.

"Fuck no." Your head turned to Carol instinctly, and then the others.

It was a moment of suffering. You, standing toe to toe with everyone. Their hesitant stares, their subtle glances that traveled back and forth with everyone else but you had riled you up yet you knew you were in big trouble and perhaps in the wrong.

You spanked your forehead with both of your palms, inhaling a huge breath in as you shut your eyes and stared all of them back.

"Come on. That motherfucker's lyin' to your faces."

" 'S he?" Daryl inquired, though his tone gave away that he thought he knew the answer. You could never wrap your head around how a redneck like him, could be so tender to a woman he despised. Yet there comes to question, didn't he despise you all? What had happened that he was now a decent person, defending someone who wasn't his blood nor his kin like a sworn confidant behind closed door?

Your eyes darted to the others.

"You believe him?"

Them looking down at their shoes was your answer.

"Stupid bitch."

Daryl mumbled under his breath as he walked away with slumped shoulders and a crossbow he had put aside.

Your face went white, shoulders sagging as you did what you had thought of doing all along.

You kept breathing sharply, turning around and lunging at Shane. He took a step back, eyeing Rick specifically to come and get you as he already had done so.

"Lying son of a bitch." You spat, your hair was everywhere on your face. You could hear your heartbeat in your eardrums.

"Easy. Easy." Rick kept his hand above your cleavage, fingers gripping the sides of your arms.

"I'm fine." You fumed as you moved your hair aside from your face.

"Wha's with all tha' if he 's lyin?" Daryl commented while he was tapping his feet to the ground, resembling a jaded eleven-year old in a family gathering. He pointed at you with his hand as he emphasized on the word "that". You had gone mad infront of all of them. You were bewildered, brows raised with a blank stare in your eyes for a few seconds.

"Look, that's not what I said at all." You began. You pouted your face as soon as everyone started putting your words into your mouth and jabbering.

"Geez, am I the only one who gives a damn 'bout this lil' girl?" Daryl snapped, walking around in circles and spreading out his accusing tone to everyone.

You shook your head in apace, trying to select the proper words to utter. You pressed your lips together, face heating under the wrathing heat wave. You looked around like a child in need of emotional support. Hands on your hips as Rick took a step ahead.

"Everyone go. Now. We'll sort this out tonight."

You got a chance to gaze upon Daryl for the first as his eyes were fixated on Carol. After all, they had formed a relationship out of this. You barely remembered anyone getting along with Daryl or him with others. You walked towards the house with thought filling your head and the misconception you felt needed to be debunked.

Few days passed, everyone still being furious with you. Little Sophia coming out of the barn as a walker didn't aid to your situation whatsoever.

You were sitting on a rock near the fields on Hershel's property. One of your elbows were resting on your knee as your other hand was supporting your chin. You were observing the stubble land laid out infront of you, cicadas jumping from one to another.

The wobbly wind was aggravating with the way it was blowing hot air to your face and body when your eye caught someone walking out of the woods into the stubble field.

Your position changed gradually with you fixing your hunchback as your arms fell loose next to you and you stretched your body a few inches taller to see who it was.

Daryl.

His eyes were checking out his surroundings as his crossbow was swinging on his hand. He wiped his hand on his forehead when his eyes noticed you.

Uneasy features were tugged on your face, not knowing what to do or say.

He passed by you, putting his best work not to acknowledge your existence.

"Daryl." You softly said.

Though your hands were resting on the sharp-edged rock , head slightly tilted and eyes scrutinising your knees that had scrapes all over it, you somehow managed to sense him throwing his head back and fully preparing himself to say a word to you.

"Yeah." He reacted.

It took a while for you to turn and face him entirely. He was looking rather fed up with you. His lips were pale and pressed, his goatee beard all tangled, he must've been scratching it and running his fingers through it, you assumed. It was something you had noticed him doing back in the quarry.

"I'm sorry but all I said was 'we might be better off elsewhere' when I happened to be absent-minded around him. You know-"

He squinted his eyes at you, his chest heaving up with a heartburn as he barked.

"Ain't ma headache no more."

"The girl 's dead."

He pointed one of his stained arrow at you, a vein appearing on the side of his neck. He was blaming every inch of you from head to toe.

You stood infront of him, pupils dilated, hands in a loose punch as no amount of air was enough to fill your lungs.

"And I'm terribly sorry-"

"No yea ain't." He came closer at you, crossbow on one hand and arrow on the other. His neck was stretching forward, sweat beading the below of his hairline.

"Don' give me tha' crap." He used his arrow once again, pointing it at you in a circular motion.

"Yer upset only 'cause he outed yea like tha', infront of the whole lot."

"You hear yourself?" You gasped slightly at his words. You were more confused than angry.

"Whatever dis is, keep it ta yerself."

You heard the fading tone in his voice, he grew less and less attentive with you within 5 minutes.

He adjusted his crossbow and arrows on one hand and started ambling towards the house with his hand scratching the back of his neck.

Sun shone through his golden hair, he was walking aimlessly. It was like you had sucked away the energy left in him for the day.

"Your one stupid motherfucker." You hissed, standing on your tiptoes and extending your torso forward to make sure he heard you.

It was all a misunderstanding, Shane twisting your words back then and now no one giving you the time to explain yourself but only putting words into your mouth. You had lost all hope for the situation for the time being, after all it was still so fresh, everyone was still so vulnerable. No one could even dare trying to foresee anything.

"What'd ya say?" He turned his head towards your direction, his body adjusting to his head gradually.

"No one is listening to me but they're believing that troublesack for a man." You fumed in one breath, you avoided eye contact with him.

He blew raspberries without sticking out his tongue, his cynical body language took over your mentality.

"Yer a real peach with yer tears n' all." A half smile on his lips, completely not interested in what you had to say. He had biases about you all along, this was only the cherry on top.

"Do you really think I didn't care about Sophia the slighest?" You asked with an ajar mouth, eyes fixated on his body as in order not to miss anything you could interpret for your own good.

His neck stretched forward once again, the glazing sun was aiming right at him, perhaps this wasn't the best time.

"I ain't yer buddy, ain't yer nothin' " He growled, his hands were gripping his weapon as he wiped his sweat with his arm.

"I sure ain't the one yea should be makin' amends ta" He hushed, turning around.

"I'm not making amends!" You declared.

Which was true, you weren't. You just hoped for to be understood and not have everyone jump into conclusions about you.

You heard him murmur "Sure sounds like it." As he was making his way through the long stubble to the van.

That night, on a chilly weather were you above the van with Dale as you were assigned to assist him during his watch.

You sat on one of the camp stools, shotgun laying between your thighs vertically. Though Dale was sitting infront of you, your eyes were fixated behind him. The long roads, the long fields.

"Hey, old man. Rick wants yea back at the house."

You flinched at Daryl's voice becoming less and less muffled as he came near the van.

"Ohh what now." You heard Dale complain under his breath as he got up.

"Heads up." Daryl warned as he threw his crossbow on top of the van while he was yet climbing the ladder.

He didn't expect to see you there. His eyes flickered across your face for a moment or so as he looked around subtly, obviously looking for Glenn with whom you were replaced to assist Dale.

"The hell?" He inquired deadly with half-lidded eyes as he straddled on the chair infront of you.

"Just don't even talk if you aren't good with words." You huffed, not even seeing him fit to make eye contact with.

He remained silent as he rubbed his eyes. He hadn't been getting any sleep.

"Ain't no need fer words with yer bullshit." He scoffed, resting his head on his hands, looking around just like you.

"All this time spent together and you haven't figured out what kind of a person I could be. Not even the slighest, huh?" You sighed, not rushing, taking your time with each word.

Your heart was sinking down your torso, it felt like. Your eyes were droppy, fingers at the tip of the shotgun, seeking to be occupied by anything. Anything but him.

His eyes were glued on your eyes as you weren't bothering to meet with his gaze.

You pegged him for a complex man at all times, deep down you always knew he wasn't someone easy to come terms with. You were not gonna be seen by him, not in this, not in anything.

But at that exact moment, when two of you took a minute to enjoy the calmness, quietness around you, letting your minds talk to yourselves instead of words, you dared to hope for a change.

He could change after all, you saw it with your own eyes.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

A/N: well this request had been on my asks since the beginning of this year... so i hope you still enjoy this anon!! also dumb me accidentally replied to a different request🥲🥲 so if that anon got the notification, im sorry, feel free to request whatever you want bae!!!

also i think i never wrote for season 2 daryl before huh? i hope this was satisfying, he was some constant-nagging redneck in season 1-2 but we love him

[lab-gr0wn-lambs]

Daryl sign language compilation

[bethgreeneprevails]

I know that I write about this too often but it pisses me off for real. I need Daryl Dixon back in his mother fucking black skinny jeans and tight button down shirts for the love of God if anyone sees this who is in charge of the Daryl Dixon spinoff please PLEASE IM BEGGING I NEED IT BACK IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD 2025

[abnormal-vacuum]

the lamb represents beth. the snake represents dawn (the woman who killed her) lavender represents purity, grace and calmness (beth’s flower). the arrow is for daryl and the moonshine is their time spent together. the bullet is what killed her. the gladiolis represent strength of character, devotion and sincerity (daryl’s flower). they also represent death. the matches are for the house they burned down together and the future each of them could have had.

[wittyno]

Me: the girlies (gender neutral) really seem to like this Daryl Dixon from The Walking Dead. I should really check that out.

Me, three episodes in: you guys (gender neutral) really buried the lead on this one.

[lilgoblinbitch]

rick grimes TOWL era is like daryl dixon Saviors era — both are trapped and hate talking to their captors, and both have that same scrutinizing look on their faces !!!

[a-really-mediocre-writer]

angel of small death, chapter two

Daryl x OC Slowburn

Summary for entire work: Piper, a 19 year old girl, alongside her 16 year old sister, Dina, are thrust into a dead-infested wasteland of the world they once knew. Having had a difficult home life before turn, will this new world be a sweet release?

<< T W O >>

Around two hours of work around the camp went by, with Lori suspiciously avoiding eye contact and having hushed conversations with Shane, him glaring at me. I keep staring over in their direction, observing, and trying to figure out what has happened.

“…What’s that about?” Amy asks, making me jump.

“Jesus! You scared me…” I reply, “I’m not too sure… I asked him about his shift last night and he got cagey…”

“Weird…”

“Very…” I keep watching them both until I notice Shane walking away out of sight and Lori approaching us, me and Amy pretending we hadn’t been watching them.

“I’m gonna head out and try get some…mushrooms…” She picks up a red bucket from near Amy and we both nod, mumbling out okays as she walks off alone into the woods. Amy and I look between ourselves and then to the woods, pulling confused looks to each other, continuing to gossip amongst ourselves as we keep sorting through food for everyone tonight.

An hour later, meal prep had been finished and we decide to have a much-needed break, walking over towards the slope leading to the water, but we stop in our tracks when the radio starts echoing a strange man’s voice.

“Hello? Hello? Can anybody hear my voice?” Amy takes off towards the sound and tries to communicate with the stranger as everyone in the camp gathers around, with Shane and Lori coming out of the woods together.

“I tried to warn him, he couldn’t hear me.” Amy stresses to Dale as he approaches.

“Come on son you know best how to work these things.” Dale calls Shane over to the radio. He tries to speak and fails to connect. “He’s gone.”

“There are others…It’s not just us…” Lori says, holding Carl near to her, “I’ve been saying we should put up signs on the roads to warn people away from the city.” Everyone’s attention is on her, as she gulps and stares at Shane. The tension between the pair could be cut with a knife.

“We knew that, right? It’s why we left the CB on? We don’t have the time to go out and help others.”

The two continue to argue until Lori storms off, clearly pissed at Shane, and he follows her towards her tent in the camp. Amy and I share a glance and I raise an eyebrow, both of us giggling. We both end up going to the water, putting our feet in and chatting for a while until almost two hours have passed and Dina disturbs us to say that everyone is looking for us to start cooking dinner for the camp. Huffing, we both grab our shoes and make our way back with Dina, them both walking ahead of me joking and laughing with each other as I look out onto the water. It is so relaxing. I take a deep breath and close my eyes, soaking up the view, until my brain break is interrupted by the radio going off again at the camp, T-Dog’s voice rattling through the camp.

“Yo, this is T-Dog- Anybody out there hear me?” I rush up to the camp and see the worried looks on everyone’s faces while Dale asks him to repeat himself.

“W- Tra-ed- Depart- -ore” He tries to get through us as the radio breaks up.

“Trapped?” I repeat, looking around for reassurance from the camp that they heard what I did, locking eyes with Lori, who responds that she heard him say they were in the department store.

“I heard it too” multiple people around the camp agree and chat amongst themselves, everyone looking to Shane for an answer.

“We need to send help-“ Amy pleads to the officer, who shakes his head at her, “She volunteered to go- to help the rest of us!” She continues to try to reason with him but he isn’t listening.

“So she knew the risks, right? See if she’s trapped, she’s gone.” He coldly says staring into her eyes with a frustrated look.

“She is my sister, you son of a bitch.” She runs off upset, Lori shouting after her and following her to try and comfort her while everyone else scatters. You glare at Shane. He is supposed to be our leader, yet he wants to leave half of our group stranded in the middle of the city? He is so willing to let go of people it just doesn’t make sense- he puts himself and his family first when he should be protecting ALL of us.

“What? Got sumn you wanna say?” He asks me, breaking me out of my trance. I pull an irritated face at him, “Yeah actually, I do.” He scoffs at me and walks off, but I follow him, “Who gave you the right to lead us? You are supposed to be keeping everyone safe, but you don’t care that half of our manpower are stranded and in danger!” I rant at him and he suddenly stops in the middle of the tents, turning around to face me and clearly frustrated with me.

“Who else would you have lead us? Huh? You? You ain’t got the first clue on how to lead, so you best stop putting your nose where it ain’t belong.”

“You threatening me again, Walsh?” You stand your ground this time, earning another scoff from him. We both stare each other down until he gets sick of it and walks away, muttering that he has real work to do.

Not too long after the argument, a siren bounces across the mountains towards the camp. Dale looks out towards it, saying it was a stolen car, followed by a bright red car with race stripes speeding round the corner and parking up at the entrance of the camp. Everyone is shouting asking questions as Glenn gets out the car holding his hands up.

“Pop the damn- POP THE DAMNED HOOD!” Shane repeats, getting louder every time he orders.

“Where is she? Why isn’t she with you?” The worry is coloured over Amy’s face as the siren stops and Glenn catches his breath.

“She’s fine- Everyone’s fine!” He looks around as if waiting for someone else to come up behind him, “Well…Merle not so much…”

Shane and Dale continue arguing about how it was dangerous to drive the car to the camp, as it could have drawn walkers to us, but Amy and I are just silently appreciating that everyone made it out of the city.

Not too long after this, a large truck parks up behind Glenn’s car and everyone is reunited with their family and friends. Seeing the heartfelt reunions, my sister grabs my hand and we just smile at each other, and I lean my head on hers.

Out of nowhere, a new guy dressed in a sheriff’s uniform steps out from the cars and Lori and Carl run to him screaming “DAD!”. The man, Rick, begins sobbing and holds them both close, making everyone smile.

The reactions of Lori and Shane, however, were ones of guilt and shock, and even some resentment from Shane. He catches me watching him and snaps out of his trance, contorting his face into a fake smile with eyes glaring daggers into the back of Rick’s head and then at me. I look away from him but keep him in my peripheral.

As everyone made their way back into the camp to get back to business as usual, I get grabbed by my arm and roughly dragged behind the RV out of the view of everyone else and slammed against the vehicle with a hand over my mouth by none other than Shane Walsh. Heavy breathing from shock and anger, he keeps the hand over my mouth for a while longer pulling a serious face and lifting a finger to his mouth to tell me to stay quiet. Glaring at him I nod; he slowly removes the hand from my mouth and glares right back at me.

“You’re gonna listen to me an’ listen good,” He traps me in place with his arm leaning against the RV next to my head, “Whatever you have against me, Ima need ya to keep that mouth of yours shut. If you don’t, people will believe me when I tell them you got bit or tried to kill me. I know how to get rid of you without people finding out.” My eyes go wide and confused. What the fuck is he talking about? Were me and Amy right about him and Lori? Does he really think I would spoil her husband and child’s family reunion based on a hunch…? This is worse than I thought…

“You understand, darlin’?”

“What’s in it for me? Your word you won’t kill me?” Squinting at him I cock my head while he continues glaring a hole into my skull. We keep staring at each other intensely until we both jump at the sound of Dale asking what’s going on and saying that he needs to talk to me. Without missing a beat, Shane is now forehead to forehead with me, “I meant what I said, girl.” He whispers into my face as he caresses my cheek. “All yers, Dale.” He shouts to him and walks away without looking back at us.

I look up at the elderly man and ask what’s up, embarrassed, only to be asked if I have any tissue paper or wrapping paper, explaining that it’s Amy’s birthday in a few days and that Andrea has a gift to give her. “I’ll have a look round mine and Dina’s stuff for you.” I say with a fake smile and leave. What am I gonna do about this? If Shane is that worried about me spilling his secret, then surely he will try to get rid of me regardless of if I keep it or not…

That night we all are listening to Rick’s crazy story of survival before the subject of Merle Dixon comes back up. I feel some guilt towards him, I mean I told him that he should get lost out there…I put that out there, people heard it, now I feel awful- yes he deserved to not come back to the camp, but not chained and stuck to the roof of a building in the middle of the city full of the dead.

“…That’s on all of us.” T-Dog finishes telling everyone about his guilt as well and walks away from the fire after a long day.

“I’m gonna turn in.” I say quietly to Dina to which she nods, and I say goodnight getting up and walking away, falling asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.

What a long day.

I awaken by the sun shining through the thin tent material and hitting my face. Dina is still sound asleep, so I quietly get dressed and slip out to start my chores for the day. Glancing around, I see that there are only a few other people awake and up. I go down to the water in the quarry and seeing that it is void of other people, I get out of my socks and shoes and dip my feet in the water, sitting just out of it to wake myself up and reading a novel that Glenn got me from his run into the city.

Walking up after time to myself I see that everyone is up and around the camp, and see that Glenn is desperately pleading his case and trying to stop Dale and Jim from stripping his new car, only to fail miserably, earning a pitiful pat on the back from me as he complains about it.

“You never know, you might find a better one next time.”

“It’s the coolest car I’ve ever driven…” he mutters to himself as they start to take it apart, “Look at them…vultures…Yeah, go on, strip it clean!” suddenly Rick appears behind us both. “Maybe we will get to steal another one someday.”

I leave them both to it and go about helping Amy, Andrea and Lori with putting wet clothes out to dry and folding others. Lori and Rick end up getting into a conversation about Merle and he says that he wants to go back and save him, only to get cut off by the children of the camp screaming for their mothers. Immediately everyone drops everything and sprints towards the wound into the woods, Lori and Jaqui holding them close as the rest of us run towards where they were coming from. There was a walker feasting on a deer with arrows in its body. Standing back from the action with Amy and  Andrea, we watch as Dale beheads the walker.

Rustling from the bushes startles everyone.

“Son of a bitch- That’s mah deer!”

“Easy son…”

“Whaddaya know abo’ it old man? Take that stupid hat and go back to On Golden Pond!” Everyone is silent as none other than Daryl Dixon rants on, kicking whatever undead life was left in the walker out of it and shooting the reincarnated head with an arrow.

“Gotta be the brain, ain’t yall know nothin?” He collects his arrows and glances up at us, glaring in disbelief at everyone’s stupidity, until locking eyes with me for a second but then immediately putting his head back down.

“Yo Merle! Get yo ugly ass out here! Got us some squirrel” Everyone in the camp tenses, waiting for the inevitable argument to ensue. Which it does. Between himself and Rick Grimes.

“Lemme process this- You sayin’ ya handcuffed mah brother to a roof- an’ you left him there?!”

“Yeah.”

Then, Daryl lunges at the officer with a knife, getting taken down and held in a chokehold by Shane. I watch in disbelief as he continues holding the distressed man on the ground, shaking my head and covering my mouth. Daryl looks around at everyone watching the violence and his eyes seem to avoid me, face flushing and closing his eyes.

Once everyone has calmed down, he lets him go and a small group of men build a rescue team for Merle and a mystery bag of guns and a radio. Watching him sharpening his knife, my mind winds back to the squirrel left outside of my tent, and I want to ask him about it but it doesn’t feel like the right time, so I sit alone with my own thoughts, hearing everyone argue and volunteer for the rescue team.

I wonder if everyone would send out a search party for me life this when Shane gets rid of me.

---

A/N its been a few days since an update, so this chapter is extra long- not too much daryl content yet but i promise there will be soon guys

taglist:

@azanoni

[sadslay]

m0re daryl pleaase

- HALLOWEEN NIGHT ⋆☆ 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

warnings - not really any? its just hella short im so sorry it was meant to be published for halloween, and i planned on writing so much more but writers block has me in a chokehold 😔

brown and deep auburn leaves crunched beneath your feet as you snuck around to the back of the dixons home. it was a small cabin in a remote part of town, the walls were damaged after years of neglect and piles of junk and rusted motorbike parts surrounded the walls and surrounding land.

you had been a neighbour to the dixons for a few years now. william dixon and his two sons had moved in a few years prior after the death of his wife who died in a house fire. it took his sons, merle and daryl a few months to warm up but after a few failed attempts of merle trying to hit on you and the odd occasion you’d actually get a more then a few words out of daryl, the three of you have been inseparable since.

tonight was halloween night. you had rented some movies from the near by town and picked up some discounted candy before sneaking your way onto the dixon property. william dixon wasn’t all too fond of guests, especially when it was a young girl around his sons.

approaching the back of the cabin you swung your bag over your shoulder before stepping up onto a few chopped logged stacked up against the wall, you tapped on the window a few times before peering inside.

“dixon!” you whispered, finally catching his attention.

looking up from his box tv that looked like it belonged in the eighties, a smile flashed across his face as he stood up to open the small window. “you’re late.” he spoke softly, taking the tapes and candy from you.

pushing the plastic bag through the window you let out a sigh of frustration. “it would have been quicker if you or your idiot brother gave me a ride.” you mumbled, beginning to hoist yourself upwards through the small window.

“merle dicked off to some party.” daryl spat bitterly as he helped your through the window. “saw it as an opportunity.” he said raising his eyebrows before wandering back to the couch. daryl began to look through the bag of tapes and candy, pulling everything out one by one. “these are all horror movies.” he scoffed.

dropped down to sit beside daryl you let out a quiet laugh, taking the tapes from daryls hands. “it’s halloween dixon, its like the law to watch scary movies on halloween.”

“night of the living dead?” daryl chuckled, looking at back of the tape to read the movies description. “for reasons unknown, the recently deceased are,” he paused for a second to let out a laugh before continuing. “are raising from the grave as flesh-hungry zombies. fleeing from the undead horde- this sounds so stupid.” he laughed, passing the tape to you before looking through the mixture of candy.

“it’s not stupid!” you exclaimed, “its a classic.” you added, standing up to put the tape in the vcr.

“a classic?” daryl scoffed, opening a bag of chips. “ridiculous.” he mumbled.

you giggled, sitting back down beside daryl. “you’re ridiculous.” you quipped, grabbing the remote to turn up the volume.

leaning your head up against his shoulder as you took a small hand full of chips from the bag sitting on his lap. as the opening credits of the film began to play, you and daryl settled in for the night.

around you the room slowly grew dark as the sun set beyond the georgian mountains. the soft glow of the television was enough for you to see the soft outlines of daryls face as he tentatively watched the movie.

“yer payin’ attention to the movie?” daryl huffed, not taking his eyes off the screen.

you sat up, letting out a soft giggle looking at daryl as he finally pulled his eyes away from the screen.

“you got eyes in the side of ya head or somethin’?” you asked, causing a smile to creep onto daryls lips. you were met with a scoff causing you to roll your eyes. “i was just makin’ sure you were watchin’ the movie.” you informed him, lying through your teeth.

daryl had been a long time crush that had been slowly, and deeply festering since you’d first met him. it was something unrecognizable at first, your heart would skip a beat or your cheeks would flush a deep shade of pink and slowly it turned into flirty comments from one another to lingering touches. but something you didn’t quite realize yet, was that daryl had been yearning for you.

every waking moment of his day you were always on his mind. if he wasn’t with you, he’d be thinking about you, thinking about what the two of you could be if he had the balls to make you his own. in fact, daryl had been thinking of halloween night for weeks. he had been subtly hinting to merle about a party in town and when he finally took the bait, daryl knew that he had to do something. tonight was the night.

the stillness in the room was palpable. the film slowly drifted into the background and all you could focus on, was daryls face under the soft moon light peaking through the dirty cabin windows. you both slowly leaned in toward each other. daryl could smell the strawberry shampoo you use, and it drove him near insanity. he had longed to touch, and hold you for so long and now you were finally close enough for it to happen, and he wouldn’t back out this time!

[bambidixon]

me defending season 9 Daryl (it's hard being an alpha 😭)

[daryltwdixon]

Picture You

You and Daryl both fantasize about each other--at the same time it turns out.

Inspired by Picture You by Chappell Roan

Content warnings: smut !!!!

I had to run and splash cold water over my face after this one

black font: you blue font: Daryl purple font: when you're actually together

There had been a lot of…touching going on lately. That’s as plain as you could explain it. Anytime you were near Daryl, he’d find a way to put his hand on the small of your back if he was passing behind you. He would manage to sit by you a lot, brushing the side of his arm against yours. On runs lately, he stayed closer to you, touching your arm to get your attention. Protecting you even when against the smallest threats. You noticed him…watching you too. If Daryl were anywhere near you, his eyes were always latched onto you; studying, assessing… admiring? You weren’t sure if you’d go that far. But god, did you love it.

He couldn’t stop himself from just…being around you. You had some sort of magnetic field specifically calculated to his center of gravity–his true north. He couldn’t help the times he’d brush by you, his hand on you or if he was lucky enough to be close, smell the lingering scent of your shampoo. Even if you hadn’t showered in days, which sometimes was the case, your scent drew him into you. He couldn’t stop watching you either. Everytime he caught himself staring and you’d meet his gaze, he would kick himself for probably being such a creep. You were hypnotizing to him. 

So, he finds himself in the bathroom alone, thinking of you at dinner that day. Sucking your fingers clean after your meal, licking your lips when you looked up at him. He’s unsure if he was imagining the hunger in your eyes–even after a full meal. 

He’d been aching in his trousers the entire time it took him to excuse himself from the group and make his way down the cell blocks into the bathroom, shutting the door tightly behind him. In what must’ve been a guard’s bathroom–it was a single washroom with a counter for the sink and white tile all along the room, from floor to ceiling. When he finally was confident he was in the bathroom alone with the door locked, he unzips his pants and pulls out his already throbbing member. 

His hand is wrapped around the base of himself, teasing and gentle like he pictures you holding it. He closes his eyes, imagining you on the sink in front of him now, sitting on the edge of the cold counter, your legs around his waist. Behind his eyes, he is wrapping his hands around your thighs as he leans into you, his mouth on yours, tongue plunging into your warm, wanton mouth. He can almost smell you, imagining the scent of cheap green apple shampoo you found on your last run. His tongue dances with yours, letting himself take control of the embrace, his mouth claiming you. His hand fists his cock slowly up and down, but tightening his grip as he pictures you reaching down to palm him through his pants. In his mind’s eye he kisses along your jaw, down to where your neck meets your shoulder, eliciting a small moan from you. He pulls back from you, lifting your shirt over your head gently, but with haste. When he looks back at you, your eyes are half lidded with desire, lips wet and swollen. God, you’re so fucking pretty like this. So needy for him. His lips reattach to the skin of your neck, your hand coming up behind his to hold him close. Your fingers reach and scratch gently at the nape of his neck. His lips journey down your body, tongue gliding around your nipples before he pulls one into his mouth between his teeth. Your heavy breathing and moans bring a smile to his face as he looks back up in your eyes. 

He crouches down, his hands coming behind your knees and down your calves, bringing your bottoms and panties down with them. After discarding your clothes, he begins kissing your legs from your ankles, nipping when he gets to the softness of the inside of his thighs. He imagines your hand coming down and intertwining in his long hair. He lifts his eyes up to yours as he slowly makes his way to your center, your legs trembling in anticipation. His mouth meets your dripping—

Daryl’s hand comes up against the mirror roughly, losing control of himself. His eyes flash open as he stumbles and grips the wall beside the sink, steadying himself. He has to release his hand from himself to keep from finishing right then and there. He’s not done with you yet, even if it’s just in his mind. 

You’re settling into your cot a little while after dinner. Daryl had been watching you again today. So, you decided to play his little game back at him. At dinner you saw him watching you with a predator’s gaze. He was fixed on you through the whole meal, so god forbid you wanted to be a little tease. You made sure to lick your fingers clean slowly, licking your lips looking at him afterwards. It took you aback when you saw his eyes darken even more, but you just returned the look with one just as hungry. Eventually he excused himself a little while later, but the look in his eyes was on your mind the rest of your time you stayed at the table. 

Back in your bed, you have your hands traveling down your chest, over the thin fabric between your fingers and sensitive nipples. You let your eyes flutter closed, imagining Daryl’s hands traveling where your’s are. You slowly let them drift down your stomach, pressing your thumb in gentle circles on your hips. Your legs can’t help but start to fidget as you get more and more impatient for him. In your fantasy, Daryl is leaning over you now, bringing his lips down to the sensitive skin of your hips, nipping at you affectionately, bringing his tongue out in apologies when he bites you harder, making your hips buck. 

“Easy,” he would growl out, his breath fanning over your eager center. He turns his head and bites, licks, nips, sucks on your inner thigh near the juncture of your apex and leg. Your hand reaches down to intertwine into his long hair, your body begging for him. 

Your fingers slowly meet your wetness, starting on the lips and entrance, imagining his tongue there instead. Circling your most sensitive area without giving you what you want most. Your back is arching off the bed, sweat starting to bead on your chest and forehead. You imagine his hands gripping your hips harder now, trying to steady you as he devours you. His tongue finally comes into contact with your clit, flattening his tongue and laving at it like it’s his last meal on earth. He purses his lips, suckling you and grazing his teeth against the nub. Your eyes flash open at the feeling of it, pausing and breathing heavily. You stare at the top bunk above you, collecting yourself before you get too close to the edge. You gently glide your fingers down again, toward your slippery hole.

Daryl has his mouth back on your center in his mind. Fisting his cock again, he leans back against the bathroom wall, mouth slightly agape, eyes closed in ecstasy. In his mind’s eye, he is kissing, sucking, eating, nipping, devouring you. Your fingers tighten in his hair and your legs are resting over his shoulders as he brings his fingers up to tease your entrance, his mouth never leaving you. You gasp and buck when he inserts a long finger into you, immediately finding the corner of your walls that makes your eyes roll. You’re already close, he can feel you tightening around him and he brings another finger into you. Your hips are undulating against his hand, riding his fingers in pure bliss. Your sweet, gushing cunt is convulsing against his fingers, your legs beginning to tense. But before you have a chance to finish, he pulls away from you. 

“Jesus, Daryl” you whisper to yourself, your hips bucking at your own fingers inside of you. You’re grinding against your own hands, trying to find the friction you so badly need.

“Fuck,” Daryl growls out loud as his hand is moving faster on himself, his cock hot and heavy in his hand. He’s raising himself up in front of you, hands back under your thighs to pull you towards him. His cock slides up and down your soaked entrance, and your hands are gripping his arms, nails pressing into him, eager. So eager for him. Your body begging before you can speak the words, “Daryl,” he imagines you whispering into his neck, finally able to make a coherent word in your blissed out state, “please,”. 

He grabs your hips, pulling you into him fully. He lets his throbbing cock enter you. Your head falls back and his mouth meets your throat, loving the salty taste of your sweat on his tongue now. The symphony of your moans and slapping of skin echoes in his ears making his cock twitch in his hand. 

You’re gyrating against your hand in hopeless abandon, your other hand coming up to graze your nails against your throat, imagining Daryl’s teeth on you while he enters you. He isn’t a quiet lover in your mind—he’s grunting against your skin, his mouth vibrating with the sound coming from him. You don’t mean to you but your quiet whispers of ecstasy are turning into whimpers. And when your fingers finally find that one spot, hitting your clit perfectly against the heel of your palm, you let out a moan. 

“Daryl,”

Your moaning is driving Daryl wild, he’s thrusting into you with sweet abandon, pulling you flush against him like he can’t get you close enough. But suddenly he takes a pause from a disturbance in the hallway outside. He stills and listens intently. There’s a gentle echoing out in the cell block and—did he just hear his own name? No, no, he’s just imagining it from thinking of you.

No wait— yes. Yes, that's his name. Softly being called out to him. He tucks his pulsing, aching member back into his pants in what only can be described as bewilderment. He gets out of the bathroom and softly walks down the cell block, getting closer to the sounds of a desperate whimpering. 

You are careful not to let another loud moan out again, aware people could be sleeping around you. But you truly could not contain the whimpers coming out of your mouth, the heavy breathes that you were gulping as you continued to ride your hand, imagining the archer’s cock deep inside you. You wondered what he’d really feel like, how he’d stretch you out as you’d cling to his gorgeous biceps. Would he be slow and agonizingly tender or would he be so ravenous he wouldn’t be able to be gentle with you? You knew in your core you didn’t want him gentle. At least not the first time he got his hands on you. You’re palming your own chest, imagining his hand grabbing, pulling, kneading your breast. Your legs are trembling from the pressure building in your core now, your skin flushing with heat. You can’t help the desperate whimpers escaping from you now in the moonlit cell block, forgetting the people sleeping around you. His name keeps slipping through your mouth along with a string of incoherent curses. 

“Are you going to cum for me?” You hear him say, but you jolt with electricity when you realize it wasn’t in your head. Your eyes fly open, your body frozen in place. You are fully and completely in the direct view of the archer in the doorway. His eyes are hauntingly dark with desire, and when you get a good look at him, his pants are tight against his lower half. 

“What—what’re you—“ you hoarsely whisper.

He makes his way over to you, pulling your hand up to his face, taking both of your fingers into his mouth to taste you. His tongue glides deliciously around your sensitive finger tips, sucking and grazing his teeth just as you imagined him. 

“Do you want—“ he whispers. 

“Yes, god yes,” you plead. 

He stands and begins to undress, your hands all over him and soaking in the sight of his beautiful body. Your fingers trace the lines of his muscles as he discards the last of the things keeping you from him. He joins you in the bed, leaning over you, caging you in between his arms on either side of your head.

“I wanna hear you say my name again,” he whispers, holding his fingers against your wet center.

“Please, please no teasing. I need to know what you feel like,” you beg of him.

He groans, dipping his head into the crook of your neck. His sweat slicked hair sticking to you as he kisses and bites you tenderly. You reach down and grasp his member in your hand. It’s hot and thick and heavy with need. He growls against your skin, sitting up now and taking your hand off of him. He interlaces your fingers and puts them back by your head, making you helpless. His other hand is on his cock, leading himself up to your entrance. He is sliding the head along your drenched center and your hips buck with need. 

“I’ve been thinking about you, just like this. Under me, on top of me, all of you. Been thinkin’ about it a long time,” his voice is hoarse, almost a whisper.

“Daryl,” you whisper. Your other hand is grabbing for him on his stomach, chest, shoulders. Touching anything you can reach, “please”

He plunges into you in sweet euphoria, and your moan escapes you before he has time to cover your mouth with his large hand. He leans on top of you now, his weight pressed into you as he thrusts with desperation into you. God, you feel just as good as he expected. Better even. Tight, warm, delicious walls constricting around him. 

He doesn’t relent, bringing his hand down between you finally to press his thumb on your sensitive nub. Your eyes roll back and you're meeting his hips with every thrust now. He’s beginning to get messy with his rhythm and his sweat drips down onto your chest.

“Fuck,” he grunts.

You nod vigorously, “I’m–mm so c-close-ss-” you breathe, gripping his arms with desperation.

“Cum with me, baby, please–fuck. I want to see you cum with my cock inside you,” he says breathlessly. Your back arches at his words, and the feeling of your cunt convulsing around him topples him over the edge just as you do the same. 

Daryl’s face is tucked into your neck as you both take deep breaths. Your hand is on the back of his neck, gently brushing the nape of his neck. He then pulls himself out of you and drops next to you. But he turns and wraps his arm around your body, pulling you in tight. You turn to face him, looking into his icy blue eyes. When you meet his eyes, both oh you can’t help but let out breathy laughs, utterly awed by the night’s events.

[weclassybouquetfun]

They're so back. Messy love wins.

AMC Networks has signed an Interim Agreement with SAG-AFTRA to resume production on a select few shows which includes INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE and THE WALKING DEAD spin-offs DARYL DIXON

and THE WALKING DEAD: THE ONES WHO LIVE starring TWD alums Andrew Lincoln and Danai Gurira.

What signing to the Interim Agreement means is that these productions have agreed to the terms that SAG-AFTRA is seeking in negotiations. When SAG-AFTRA and the AMPTP agree to a new contract (whenever that may be), if the terms of the new agreement are more favourable than what is in the interim agreement, that finalized agreement with the AMPTP will supersede the interim agreement and the talent will get whatever that contract reflects.

I'm of two minds on Interim Agreements. On one hand, it gets people back to work so that they can have income and that's great. On the other, these agreements give way to content which will eventually end up an AMPTP repped platform so they are passing on the opportunity to starve the studios of content which could show the studios that they cannot survive without the contributions of writers and actors. If streamers and networks saw their ratings and/or subscriber base go into freefall due to lack of content, that would hopefully make them realize how they need to do right by the affected.

And SAG-AFTRA realized that this is a side-effect, so they revamped their restrictions and now they won't grant Interim Agreeemnts to WGA projects so as to not stymy their strike.

So...glad these shows have made a way back, but I am hoping that a resolution is near so that these Interim Agreements won't create a further schism amongst the membership.

[lab-gr0wn-lambs]

Ok do the thousands of Bethyl shippers realize it means they're headcanoning Daryl as a pedophile or

[springcatalyst]

daryl is so asexual that even people who dont know what asexuality is KNOW hes asexual