#daryl dixon/reader

[topazy]

Tomorrow’s promise

Pairing: Daryl Dixon × reader, Rick Grimes × sister reader

Warnings: Violence, swearing

Chapter: 5.02

After being taken from the train car along with Rick, Bob, and Glenn, Daryl’s hands were zip-tied by their hands and feet and forcefully lined up in front of a drainage pipe. The sounds of flesh being sliced combined with terrified screams were enough to bring tears of fear to Daryl’s eyes. They witnessed three men being bludgeoned and having their throats slit before an explosion went off nearby, causing the building to shake and distracting the butchers long enough for Rich to free himself and kill them.

Daryl rips the rag from his mouth as Rick frees his hands. “What is this place? Slaughterhouse?”

“A human slaughterhouse,” Glenn mumbles.

Daryl gets to his feet and then helps Bob up. “These sick bastards have Jace. We need to find him.”

Rick steps in front of him, preventing him from rushing out the door leading outside. “I want to find him as much as you do, but we need to be smart about this. We need weapons. Can’t fight them off with nothing.”

Begrudgingly, Daryl nods in agreement. He couldn’t lose them, not again.

“Was anybody else taken?” Glenn asks quietly while they make their way to another room.

“I don’t think so—” Daryl enters the room they keep butchery equipment in first and instinctively covers his mouth. “Holy shit.”

The smell of death fills the room, and hooks with human limbs hung from the ceiling. A lump forms in the back of Rick’s throat. “You cross any of these people, you kill them. Don’t hesitate; they won’t.”

“They’ve got Jace,” Daryl’s voice cracks. “These sick fucks have him. We need to get the kid and get back to the rest of our people now.”

—

Bile hits the back of your throat when you find the room Jace is being kept in. He was on the ground underneath a flipped-over crib, preventing him from crawling away. Which was a blessing considering a walker was restrained to the wall next to where he was.

The blonde woman from earlier was sitting on the floor sobbing, rubbing at a bit mark on her ankle. You could hear gunfire and screams coming through her radio, but she was ignoring it.

Quietly you pick up the bloodied bat from the door and swing it, bashing the girl across the face before she has the chance to shoot you; she screams in pain but drops her weapon. You take the gun she dropped and run to the wall and stab the walker that’s chained up in the head, then use the outside of a jacket you found in the hallway to soak up some of its blood.

“You’ll never make it out,” she sobs. “None of us will!”

You flip the crib off Jace and pick him up; once he’s in your arms, you’re reminded that Judith wasn’t with Rick when he arrived. “Mommy’s here; it’s okay, baby, it’s okay.”

While trying to short Jace underneath your top to make sure the blood from the jacket doesn’t touch his skin, you keep one eye on the blonde and almost pity her. If she wasn’t part of Terminus, you would have either tried to save her or given her a mercy kill; instead, you were leaving her to turn.

—

Your heart thuds in your chest as multiple footsteps get closer as you stand frozen on the concrete staircase at the building's fire escape. You were stuck; you couldn’t go any further up because the asshole running this place was on the roof shooting at walkers, or so you heard on the radio, meaning you had no choice but to go down.

Please don’t cry. Jace, please don’t cry. It was a miracle you made it this far; the inside of the building was slowly starting to fill with walkers, and your makeshift weapon was becoming blunt, and soon it wouldn’t be sharp enough to stab them in the head with.

The people walking below whisper, but the closer they get, the more clear their conversation becomes. “We go in pairs to clear each room; nobody is left behind.”

You lean over the banister and look down. “Rick?”

“Lil?” Both Rick and Glenn pop their heads over the bannister and look up at you surprised. “We came to find—”

The door on the top floor creaks open, and instinctively you step backwards out of the line of sight of anyone looking down. It was Gareth, and it sounded like he was reloading a weapon. Doing your best to try and remain calm, you press your back against the wall and carefully take one step at a time, trying desperately to reach your brother without making any noise.

Holding Jace with one hand, you use the other to keep hold of the handrail. You continue to make your way down until you come face to face with someone coming upstairs, Daryl.

The look on his face melts your heart.

Silently, Daryl cups your cheek while looking at Jace, and you could see the relief in his blue eyes.

—

When you make it outside, you stay with Rick and Carl to pick off walkers while Glenn and Bob go to the train car to let the rest of your people out. The smoke from the burning terminus was now thick and making it harder to breathe and see; the loud noise had attracted a horde of walkers, which were swarming the gardens of the building now that the community's fence was down.

What the hell happened?

“Shit, they’ve spotted us!” Daryl yells and pushes you behind him. “On the roof!”

The three of you take shelter behind a car as bullets fly in your direction. Jace’s cries are drowned out by the sound of gunshots hitting off the car and screams as zombies pile up on a woman, tearing her from limb to limb.

“Lily, this way! We’ll cover you!”

Trusting Rosita, you wave for your brother and Daryl to follow, “Come on!”

You race across the garden until you meet her at a barbed wire fence; there was a small part of the fence dipped in the middle with a thick rug over. You spot your nephew on the other side already, “Carl! Take him.”

Rosita and Abraham fight off a handful of walkers while you hand Jace over to Carl. As soon as you’re no longer holding Jace, Daryl practically throws you over the fence and then jumps over behind you.

Rosita, Abraham, and Rick climb over the fence right after. Catching your breath, you smile watching Rick reunite with Carl and Jace; you meet your brother's eye and tear up. He didn’t need to say it out loud; Judith was gone.

You look from them to Daryl and frown; in the daylight, his black eye looks so much worse. You throw your arms around him and bury your face into his neck, “I don’t ever want to lose you again.”

[pinkandblueblurbs]

baked

daryl dixon x fem!reader. marijuana, high sex, penetrative sex, lazy sex, giggly sex, light d/s dynamics, praise, unsafe sex, unprotected sex, creampie, sex with feelings

word count: 1.6k

“Mm… this feels so nice.” You grin at him dopily as the high starts to kick in. He lets out an amused huff.

“Yeah, I bet.”

“Don’t you feel somethin?”

“I feel somethin’, sure. But I ain’t where you are, sunshine.”

 He can see it in your eyes how gone you are. Your pupils are blown even wider than they are when he fucks you, your lids are permanently at half mast. Not to mention the pauses you take— there’s a couple of full beats before you process his words and let out a giggle in response.

“Dunno what you mean by that, I’m riiight here.” You drawl, sitting up from where you’d slumped into the back of the sofa and crawling over to Daryl. It’s slow and lazy, the way you move yourself onto his lap, and he watches patiently with his hands hovering until you’re settled and they can come to rest on your hips. Your own hands reach out to cup his face.

“Y’so pretty,” you say admiringly, trailing your eyes over his features. His cheeks warm under your palms.

“Shuddup.” He grunts. You smile, leaning down to kiss him. He kisses you back, like he always does, but slows it down for you, letting you melt into it as it consumes your foggy brain.

“Daryl,” you gasp out into his mouth when you pull back ever so slightly, your hand gripping onto his and leading it from your hip to your breast. He indulges you, groping at the flesh there and making your eyes flutter shut. The soft breathy sigh you let out makes his cock stir in his pants. “I want more.”

“Y’sure about that?” His voice has lowered with arousal, but the eyes that meet yours are sharp. “Yer pretty baked, kid.”

Your head bobbles in a clumsy nod, fingers curling around his other hand to tug it down to the apex of your thighs. Despite the fog that’s settled in your brain you’ve never been more sure of anything. “Please.”

Daryl’s breath hitches. The weed’s made you shameless, and it’s the hottest damn thing he’s ever seen.

“Yeah, alright.” His fingers are rubbing over your clothed pussy, making you moan already, and his other hand abandons your breast to support your back so he can shift your bodies and lay you down on the sofa with him above you.

He unzips the fly of your pants and you shimmy your hips to help him pull them off, giggling with the movement. The ends of Daryl’s lips just barely quirk into a smile. Your underwear come off next.

“You gonna let me eat this pretty pussy?” He rasps once he has you bare from the waist down. There’s another pause where Daryl can see the gears in your head turning, and he’s a bit surprised when a small pout settles on your lips and you shake your head.

“Want you inside me.” You reach up to tangle your fingers in his hair, guiding him closer, “‘n I want your mouth up here.”

“Yeah?” He cups your face, calloused thumb tracing the pillow of your lower lip. His cock twitches when your lips fall open, inviting the digit to slip past.

“Mhm,” you hum as he strokes his thumb over your tongue.  He can’t stand the way you’re looking up at him— eyes dazed and flooded black, lashes kissing your cheeks with every slow blink, your mouth slack with his thumb resting inside. You look like a fucking wet dream.

“Can’t say no to that.” He slides his thumb out and when he leans down his tongue quickly replaces it. 

He unzips his own fly now, clumsily working his way out his pants without breaking away from your kiss. That has you giggling into his mouth again— you feel so light that the laughter comes easily, rising out of you like bubbles. Daryl smiles against your lips. Part of you wishes you could see it, but feeling it is almost better.

“Yer so fuckin’ cute,” he breathes out. Your heart soars.

“Love you so much,” you respond in a whisper, grasping the sides of his head, fingers threading through his hair. “Please fuck me, Daryl. Need it now, please—“

“I know, I know.” He reaches down to position his cock at your pussy, the tip of it catching on your entrance and sliding inside. You choke on a gasp as he thrusts in, slow and steady, until he’s fully seated, the head pressed against your g-spot. 

It’s overwhelming, even more than usual. You squeeze your eyes shut and the rest of the world fades into the background. All you can feel is his cock inside you, the locks of his hair between your fingers, the presence of his body above you. 

“I got you,” he soothes, staring down at your face, knowing how intense the sensations must be with you like this. “That feel good?”

“So good,” it’s so quiet he barely catches it. You think that you should probably say more, but you aren’t sure what. You want everything and you want nothing— you want him to move, to fuck you into the couch cushions, and you want him to stay just like this forever with his cock nestled deep inside you. 

Another desperate “please,” is what you settle on. 

Somehow, miraculously, Daryl knows what you need. You feel his lips on yours, familiar and reassuring. It’s a grounding kiss, brings you back to yourself just enough, leaves you feeling just the right amount of floaty. His tongue joins yours inside your mouth and it sends a rush of arousal through you. 

Then he rolls his hips slightly, and you let out the prettiest breath of a moan he’s ever heard. He repeats the movement right away, starting up a slow pace, desperate to hear you make it again— and he’s immediately rewarded when you do. He’d fuck you for hours just to listen to that sound.

“Tha’s it,” He rasps against the shell of your ear. Your hands move down from his hair, seeking the warmth of skin, and you whimper when you’re met with the feeling of cotton against your fingertips. You scramble for contact, slipping your hands up under the hem of his shirt so you can press your palms against the firm, balmy muscle of his chest. Your face morphs into a dopey grin, sweet gasps of “uh–uh” leaving your lips with every thrust of his hips. 

“Y’like that? That feel good?” Daryl presses hot kisses to your neck after murmuring the words, making you shiver in pleasure.

“Yes, Daryl.” You breathe out, fingers curling around the sides of his abdomen, gripping on tight and digging crescent moons into his skin. “Please don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sunshine.” The hand not supporting himself moves to grope at your breast, roughly kneading at the soft skin, and you moan when his thumb rubs across your nipple–bolts of electricity zip to the very tips of your toes. “Wanna make you feel real good. Make you cum f’me.”

You whimper, squirming, gazing up at him with bleary eyes. He lets out a breathless chuckle at the vacant look of them, though internally affection squeezes at his heart. 

“Can you do that, pup? Can you cum for me?” He encourages. Calloused fingertips trail down your body until they’re between your thighs and can rub precise circles over your clit. You let out a moan, squeezing your eyes closed at the intense feeling.

“Yes! Daryl, please.” He keeps going, rubbing your clit with his fingers and pounding into you with his cock, watching your body arch below him as your pleasure mounts.

 “Daryl, Daryl, Daryl–” His name becomes a chant, the only word you can fathom, and the needy, reverent way you say it has him groaning into your neck. He never thought he’d hear someone say his name like that. 

“Tha’sa girl,” His low voice reverberates through you. “Cum for me, c’mon now.”

Your body lights up like a firecracker. An intense, tingling pleasure that you’ve never experienced takes over you. It’s overwhelming sensation, blinding white ecstasy that knocks the air from your lungs and makes you tighten like a vice around Daryl’s cock– and then, right when it’s about to be too much, it’s numb relief, leaving you floating in soft bliss. 

Daryl grunts as he spills into you, the rhythmic clenching of your orgasm sending him over the edge. The warmth of his release further lulls you as you come down from your peak. You let out a content hum.

“Y’alright?” Daryl’s voice is hoarse, rough with sex. You smile, peeling your droopy eyes open to look at him as he pants above you.

“That was unreal,” you murmur, rubbing your hands up and down his balmy sides, still reveling in the feel of his skin.  “I see why people get addicted to this stuff.”

“Sex, or weed?” He quips in his usual deadpan, making you giggle. 

You pull him down for a quick kiss before replying with a shrug. “Both, I guess. But only if it’s sex with you.”

“Ain’t you sweet.” He sounds sarcastic, like he’s teasing, but you know he means it deep down by the way he tenderly rubs his thumb over your lower lip and looks at you like you hung the moon and the stars. 

He works an arm under you so he can roll you both over, letting you settle atop him, his softening cock still inside you. You let your eyes fall closed, head still pleasantly fuzzy. You hum as peace washes over you.

“Don’t wanna get cleaned up.” You murmur. Daryl lets out a satisfied huff and folds an arm behind his head. His other hand moves up and down your back in an absentminded soothing motion that has you melting into him.

“Me neither.” He watches you for a moment, so relaxed atop his chest. He closes his own eyes. “We’ll stay like this awhile.”

“Me neither.” He watches you for a moment, so relaxed atop his chest. He closes his own eyes. “We’ll stay like this awhile.”

“Don’t wanna get cleaned up.” You murmur. Daryl lets out a satisfied huff and folds an arm behind his head. His other hand moves up and down your back in an absentminded soothing motion that has you melting into him.

“Me neither.” He watches you for a moment, so relaxed atop his chest. He closes his own eyes. “We’ll stay like this awhile.”

[mychemstat]

shotgun - daryl dixon

word count : 6.6k

summary : done with another stressful semester of your university, you invite your friends over for pizza and some pre-rolled joints you were dealt a few days ago. when a handsome stranger tags along, throwing all your plans off course, you fail to anticipate how well you flirt under influence.

authors note and warnings : daryl dixon/f!reader. drugs, shotgunning, unprotected piv sex, cum eating, some dry humping, religious guilt mentioned very briefly, build up, porn WITH plot, nsfw as fuck, high sex (both parties high and consent enthusiastically), daryl jerks you off as you jerk him off, reader with female reproductive parts. song for the fic also mentioned in the fic: girls need love by summer walker.

you don't remember the exact series of events that led a stranger to your bed, smoking your weed.

what you do remember is glancing at a text from glenn, your friend of five years, saying that he would be at yours for movie night along with his new roommate because "he seemed lonely and could use some friends."

to be completely fucking honest, you did not want to make a new friend. you did not need a new friend. you were fine with the way things were; glenn and his girlfriend maggie occupied enough of your social life for you not to feel lonely even in your one-bedroom apartment miles away from your university campus.

after an arduous day of working on your midterm papers, you just needed a good old movie night where you could sit in comfortable silence with your friends and then eventually pass out on the couch. the universe seemed to have different plans however.

it's not like you didn't understand why glenn was bringing his roommate over; you weren't heartless. hell, you have been in his position before: new to the town, no new friends, just you and four cartons of your stuff neatly packed with the help of your mother - who, by the way, did not make the move easy with her empty nest syndrome.

maybe this was a good thing. you often complained to glenn about how you needed to get out more and live out your college days to the fullest before you succumbed to capitalism and worked a dead-end job just to make ends meet. you didn't even have to go out of your house to make a new friend, he would be at your doorstep in about twenty minutes. and besides, glenn would bring free pizza from his work. you could play along for some free pizza.

the clock struck nine pm as you shut your laptop for the day and leaned back on your couch, exhausted. your fingertips hurt from typing incessantly, and your thighs were uncomfortably hot thanks to your piece of shit laptop.

tossing the device beside you, you walked to your bathroom to freshen up, try and look presentable. you wouldn't give a single fuck if it was only your friend group coming over, hell, they have seen you at your worst moments where you were crying over your life or throwing up from drinking too much and vice versa.

this was uncharted territory. sort of. you had seen glenn's roommate once when you visited glenn’s to grab the notes you lent him for intro to microeconomics. you couldn't even catch his name in the few seconds his room door was cracked open, followed by a wary glare through the sliver and a loud thud, shutting you out of his sight.

your eyelids dropped as you splashed water on your face, replaying your interaction with him to somehow analyze him by his dialogue, or lack thereof.

socializing had always been rocky for you, especially following social cues or maintaining a conversation without thinking that the other person could not give less of a shit about you.

if glenn's roommate was anything like glenn, a raging extrovert, he would do most of the talking and all you would have to do is nod and comment. judging by his reaction to seeing you the other day, however, you were afraid that he was more of an introvert compared to you.

as you picked an outfit for the night, something comfortable but presentable, you practiced your smile.

should you smile with your teeth, or offer an obligatory tight-lipped smile? did it seem fake? would it be interpreted as rude?

throwing on a black tank and some red flannel pants, some of your best clothes to sleep in, you felt anxiety glow red hot in your veins, twisting your gut horribly.

the way your body reacted to socializing was a bit much, in your opinion. you wouldn't actively worry about things, but your body acted in ways your brain didn’t. you couldn't figure out for the life of you what it was, and you weren't sure you wanted to.

a few deep breaths settled your stomach as you checked yourself in the mirror. you looked decent, and you could pass out comfortably in your living room. your hair was okay, not much could be done to it so you left it be.

it had been fifteen minutes, and glenn texted you saying that he was downstairs as a heads-up so you could "fix yourself up haha."

that little shit.

rolling your eyes, you texted him to fuck off and did a once-over around you to make sure your apartment was tidy enough. as you waited by the door, right foot tapping impatiently, that feeling returned, the one that made you want to throw up and shit your guts out simultaneously.

you heard a distant conversation from the hallway and straightened your clothes in preparation. as soon as you heard three raps on the door, you opened it immediately.

"wow that was quick, were you standing at the door waiting for us?" glenn greeted you with a box of pizza in his hand. you were about to tell him to eat shit but the smell of the food worked like a charm as you ignored his remarks and moved away from the door to let your friends, well, two friends and the stranger, in.

maggie’s arms caged you in, rocking you from side to side, "i haven't seen you in so long, how have you been!"

the girl smelled like roses, soothing your anxiety one nerve at a time. "i've been okay, just buried in exams and papers, like the usual..." you trail off, appreciating the bear hug she still had you in. you loved maggie, her voice, her energy, her eyes; everything about her made you feel lighter and absolved you of all worries.

so much so that you forgot about the figure standing awkwardly outside your door with a pack of beers in his right hand and his left stuffed in his pocket.

you widened your eyes, letting go of maggie with a kiss on her cheek.

"hey, nice to meet you, um... i'm sorry, i don't think we have met..."

"oh yeah! that's daryl, look at what he brought!" glenn exclaimed, setting the pizza down on the coffee table.

"beer," daryl commented, nodding to himself.

this is going to be fun, you thought, painfully, offering him a practiced smile to lighten his heavy aura.

daryl. his name certainly suited him. clad in all black, a silver chain hanging off his belt loops, and a top that looked like its sleeves had been ripped off. you didn’t hate the way that it revealed his surprisingly buff arms as he walked into the apartment, raising them and holding the booze, "where d'ya want this?"

his voice had a drawl to it; deep like a smoker’s, deeper with that country accent of his.

caught up in your own observations, your delayed response to daryl's simple question had glenn snicker, earning a quick and hopefully stabbing nudge from maggie.

pointing at your coffee table, you started, "so daryl, you new to this town?"

the man grunted a "yes" without any follow-up, which had you frantically search for the remote control of your tv, the best social lubricant at your disposal.

as you passed the remote control to glenn to put on a movie of his choice- since it was his turn this week- your view switched to daryl, sitting on the other side of the couch with his legs parted open and both arms resting on the cushions.

you tried overlooking the manspreading just this once.

he wore his hair down, strands covering his face dishevelledly. you wondered how it didn't bother him to have hair blocking his view or tickling his face. your gaze narrowed in, ignoring maggie and glenn arguing over which movie they wanted to watch.

daryl's eyes were focused… or too relaxed? you couldn't tell. the kajal on his lower waterline certainly made your gut flip in excitement, confusing you momentarily. he looked messy; the torn shirt, the ripped black pants, and even his greasy-looking hair for that matter. but even the short duration you knew him for, it suited him.

you kind of liked it.

“let’s watch jaws! please!” glenn protested, tugging on his girlfriend’s arm, to which she just rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“how many times do you wanna watch it?! no, pick sumn else.”

daryl didn’t care for their argument clearly, scoffing and reaching for a bottle of beer on the coffee table. the bottle looked comically small in his hands as you watched him buck his hips to fetch what looked like a lighter from his back pocket.

at this point, glenn and maggie were basically non-existent as you observed daryl holding the butt of the lighter to the bottlecap and flick it off in one swift motion. the sheer ease with which he undid the seal made you widen your eyes, an amused smile painting your lips.

you heard the faint tune of the theme song of jurassic park. the couple must have settled on a movie, finally, you thought. your eyes trailed every movement of daryl’s, focusing on the way he brought the mouth of the bottle to his lips, chugging down almost half of the drink, his adam’s apple bobbing prominently.

a foreign feeling blossomed at the bottom of your gut, making you shift in your seat. you watched intently as daryl separated the bottle from his mouth, leaving a glossy sheen on his bottom lip.

what the fuck was happening to you?

you didn’t know jack shit about daryl, you didn’t know his morals, or his background, or even had a proper conversation with him before. so why were suddenly fixing your hair and adjusting your clothes?

why did you care?

peeling your eyes away with great difficulty, you turned your attention to maggie who was reaching for a slice of pie, “what toppings did you get?”

“half mushroom and half jalapeno, no pepperoni this time though, they were out,”

you nodded at her, knowing full well your attention was still hung up on the standoffish man sitting across you. turning toward the tv, you leaned back in your seat, puffing your chest out for a deep breath and settling into the soft cushion behind you.

daryl remained silent and focused on the screen, occasionally snickering at the jokes and mumbling to himself as he nursed his beer. he really was an introvert. not the kind scared to talk, but the kind who would rather not; save his breath instead.

at that rate, you weren’t going to get to know him at all, and the tension in the air seemed to grow by the second, at least for you.

halfway through the movie, you exhaled, breaking the deafening silence from the sheer lack of conversation. daryl and maggie’s heads turned to you; glenn’s vision remained glued to the screen.

“this movie is so fucking boring, glenn!” you interrupted, finally snapping the boy out of whatever spell jeff goldblum's chest hair had him in.

“this is not fucking fair, did i ever complain about any of your movie picks?” he rolled his eyes, setting his fourth slice down inside the box, clapping the crumbs off his fingers.

“ask me if i care. we aren’t even talking, we’re just staring at this screen. look at maggie! she almost dozed off a couple of times!” you responded, leaning forward in your seat and pointing at the poor girl trying to keep her eyes open.

defeat washed across your friend’s face as he swung an arm around maggie to pull her in.

offering him the most shit-eating grin, you began, “i recently bought some pre-rolls as an after-exam-season treat… it’s purely indica so it won’t have us neurotic…” you trailed off, scanning your friends’ as well as daryl’s faces for approval.

maggie straightened her back, a glint in her eye you rarely witnessed. you knew glenn would never say no to a little bit of relaxation, especially after a long day at the shitty job he works.

“fuck yeah, now we’re talking.” daryl sighed, rubbing his temples and setting his beer down.

oh, so he was bored as fuck before.

you knew it had nothing to do with you whatsoever, especially because glenn was clearly at fault, although you couldn’t help but feel like you disappointed him.

a complete stranger who happened to catch your eye and can’t leave your mind.

holding up your index finger, you rushed to your bedroom, giddiness blinding your senses just at the mere thought of being the perfect host for your guests.

when you returned to the living room with a flat metallic box, the movie was turned off and maggie succeeded to connect her phone to your bluetooth speaker, shuffling through her numerous playlists before finally landing on one.

“you’re gonna like this song…” the girl pointed at you, her eyes following your figure the moment you stepped into the living room. tilting your head in confusion, you waited for the song to begin as the speaker turned on with three little beeps.

“honestly…” you heard from the speakers, ears perking up instantly. your eyes widened at maggie in excitement, your mouth falling agape.

daryl and glenn observed the two of you, confused at the sudden change in atmosphere.

as the instrumental in the background progressed, you rushed to your seat, nudging the lid of the box open with the pad of your thumb. the scent of weed, not the kind that stinks but is subtle and almost nostalgic, enveloped your senses. your fingers found themselves picking the well-rolled joint in your hands and asking someone for a light.

daryl grabbed his lighter, which you noticed had a sticker of a skull on it, and extended his hand. his buff, well-defined, muscular-

“you think one joint’s gonna be enough? i’m not a lightweight unlike this loser here,” daryl spoke in a full sentence for the first time, gesturing towards glenn as he flicked the lighter on and looked up at you. placing the joint between your lips, you craned your neck forward and leaned in to meet the flame halfway, two fingers ghosting in a ‘v’ under the cigarette in case it fell.

“i have plenty, daryl. getting high won’t be a problem,” you glanced up at him, through the flame, paying close attention to his eyes for the first time now that his hair was mostly out of the way.

his face bathed in the orangish hue of the flame, as did yours, revealing the true color of his eyes. they were a deep prussian blue; not what you expected but certainly liked. the spark from the lighter chipped away at the twisted head of the joint and bit the ground-up grass eventually.

sucking in, you breathed life into the stick between your lips, the head pulsing red-hot as you inhaled the smoke into your lungs. momentarily holding your breath, you exhaled, feeling an itch in your throat.

you forced a cough or two out of you before leaning back in your seat and processing the hit. your hand mindlessly raised the joint to maggie on your right, who grabbed it a little too quickly.

“honestly i’m trying to stay focused”

the song commenced, curving the edge of your lips upward. it might have been a placebo effect, the fact that you were a lightweight, or that you just hadn’t smoked in a while. but some of those reasons were catching up to you. fast.

glenn took several hits with ease, throwing his head back on the cushion and handing the roll to daryl.

“you must think i’ve got to be joking…”

his fingers, too thick for the small joint, held it with such care. like he would break it if he gripped it a little too hard. you watched the man take a long drag; his lips gently kissing the joint, drawing out the smoke to hold it down briefly before blowing it all out.

“i don’t think i can wait. i just need it now…”

you don’t know what awakened in you; maybe it was because your favorite song was playing, or that smoking looked especially attractive on him, or a combination of both, but your eyes widened unnaturally largely as you traced his movements; the movement of his lips around the cig, his chest heaving after a hit, his sharp collarbones on shameless display as he threw his head back in relief.

you were entranced.

“here.” he offered, reaching across the seating area with the joint in his hand.

you tried to make the exchange non-physical. you really did. but his fingers enveloped most of the joint and you had no choice but to fumble with them until you grabbed hold of the cigarette, his touch leaving your skin burning hot.

“i just need some dick… i just need some love…”

this was not relaxing in any way. you sat with this stranger you wanted to fuck as a song about wanting to fuck played in the background. you monitored your breathing and your posture; all of these efforts to impress this question mark of a man in your living room.

“fuck, i think i’m already high.” glenn coughed out, his head resting on maggie’s shoulder. you chuckled, nursing the joint once again.

you were not going to lie. the drug had gotten hold of you by now; your reactions were slightly delayed, you took longer to process what the other person said, and your eyelids hung lower than usual.

and there's the cottonmouth.

what trumps all of the above, however, is the pure euphoria climbing every fiber of your body. a harmony of numbness and freedom flowing through you, dusting the weight off your shoulders.

“you could be the one. we can start with a handshake, baby, i’mma need more than a hug…”

you might have underestimated the effects of weed on you. not only did it make you giggly and careless and hungry, but it also made you unbelievably horny. you looked up at daryl, a blunt weight on your eyelids having you cherish the softness of the cushions behind you. the pillow resting between your legs brushed against your core, throwing gasoline to the flame.

the nape of your neck felt hot as you swallowed thickly, trying to distract yourself from the situation at hand.

the bass from your speakers stimulated your body, vibrations traveling between your legs.

“girls can’t ever say they need it, girls can’t never say now…”

fuck, you wanted someone.

normally, you were fine being alone; it was difficult enough managing yourself, let alone someone else. and it isn’t like you didn’t have experience with romance; you had a couple of relationships in high school that obviously didn’t last. coming to university, however, made you realize just how not-ready you were to be involved with someone.

“hey can i take a nap on your couch?” maggie began, gently nudging glenn to make room for her head on his lap.

“already?” you teased the girl with no actual annoyance in your voice.

maggie nodded, tired and laying down on her boyfriend’s lap. you swore you heard daryl scoff slightly as glenn stroked maggie’s hair. you flashed a small, sort of obligatory smile at the couple on your couch.

the distance between you and daryl seemed to lengthen as half of your smoke circle was now passed out, leaving no one to pass the joint. your back strained, trying to close the gap between you and the man who did not seem to get high at all.

“hey, uh.. daryl? you high yet?”

“nah, i can go for a few more rounds.” he grunted kicking glenn’s leg in slight annoyance.

your eyes widened, bottom lip jutting out in admiration of his tolerance level, “you smoke often?”

“a lot of shit happens around… just easier to tolerate if you can forget for a while,” he spoke, bringing the roach to his lips.

“why not drink instead? why do you smoke?”

you knew you were testing the limits with this closed-off man, but how else were you supposed to get to know him?

daryl cocked an eyebrow, and you could hear him question why it was any of your business to know anything about his life.

“i’m not a good drunk.”

silence washed into the room, leaving you pouting your lips, trying to segue the conversation into something lighter.

“i like your skull tattoo.” you commented, eyeing the back of his hand. you realized it looked exactly like the sticker on his lighter. that seemed to have caught his attention noticing his slightly raised eyebrows.

“can you guys shut the fuck up?” a drowsy voice interrupted your conversation.

“what the fuck do you want us to do huh?” you retorted, turning towards glenn, who was scrunching his face in irritation.

“go inside or something i don’t fucking know!”

you would have usually kicked him off the couch for behaving like the annoying brother he is, but you had to think this through. there was a way this could turn out well for you.

‘going inside’ meant that you would be alone with daryl, probably on your bed too since there wasn’t any other seating inside your room. you looked at daryl, raising your eyebrows suggestively.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

your room was slightly colder than your living room; something about the building ventilation being fucked up. daryl didn’t seem to care, shedding the sleeveless vest he had on, his biceps flexing in the process. you eyed the posters on your wall with criticism, hoping none of them were embarrassing.

“you like breaking bad huh?” daryl commented, pointing at your wall. you nodded, a smile pulling at your lips.

“good show. you got good taste.”

your chest swelled with pride, muscles around your mouth in pain from how hard you smiled. a chill from your aircon trailed up your spine, your arms hugging either side of your torso in an attempt to warm up. daryl glanced at you, specifically your breasts pushing up against each other, momentarily, before sitting on the foot of the bed with the dying roach in his hand.

you turned off the fluorescent white central lighting in your room before pressing the switch for your calmer, dimmer lamp.

“shit was hurtin’ my eyes, thanks.” you heard daryl chuckle.

“yeah, the landlord hates me, i swear. had to get candles because that light is just so fucking ugly,” you spoke, a laugh bubbling up. the smile on your face had not left since you entered your room. the full-body euphoria made you giggly, even in the company of a stranger.

sitting down on the other side of the bed, you dug into the metal box once again, fumbling with the tempting joints as your vision blurred softly. you felt his gaze burn into your skin as you sat in your dimly lit room.

“you play guitar?” he questioned, looking away from you and at the metallic blue electric guitar placed in the corner of your room.

“a little… i’m still learning though… you?”

“used to.” daryl responded, fishing his lighter out as soon as you stopped fumbling with the joint.

repeating the same routine; sticking the joint between your lips and leaning into him, overestimating the space between the two of you this time, you climbed toward him, fists digging into your mattress as you waited for him to give you the light.

you didn’t pay attention to the way your tank top dropped low in front of him, or how quick his eyes were to check you out before nudging the flame toward the joint.

you sucked on the cigarette, eyebrows knitting in pain from the delicious burn spreading through your lungs, not breaking eye-contact with the man in your bed. you exhaled slowly, the back of your head landing on the headboard with a thud, “fuuuuck… i missed this.”

daryl tilted his head, “yeah? why? you take a break?”

“well, i get addicted to things easily… and religious guilt and whatnot…” you answered, feeling weird about your sudden transparency.

daryl raised his eyebrows, “that’s heavy shit, you don’t gotta tell me twice.”

you pass the joint to daryl, his fingers sizzling against yours for the millisecond-long touch. the scent of weed fogged your senses as he blew the smoke out, coughing immediately after.

your nerves undid themselves one after the other, head swaying to a non-existent rhythm. this strain was strong. you had forgotten how dangerously easy it was to not give a fuck when you were high.

do something, say something, you scolded yourself, scanning daryl’s figure on your bed. it felt like the universe had dropped a gift on your lap and you, for some reason, refused to open it.

your inner teenager activated the second you sat down on your bed with him, letting your thoughts run wild.

the blunt ache between your thighs grew more unbearable by the second as you wondered how his lips would feel; how they’d taste.

you wanted to be near him and feel his fingers, his warmth around you. but nothing was going to happen if you didn’t close the gaping distance between the two of you. you parted your lips, heart beating faster than ever. if he shot you down, it would be the worst high of your life and you would just have to live with that.

your mouth acted before the sober part of your mind did, popping the first question in your mind.

“you ever shotgunned?”

daryl stopped fiddling with his lighter to look at you, darting his tongue out to wet his bottom lip; that same glossy sheen sent a jolt of lightning to the bottom of your gut.

you tried filling in the silence, “you know… inhaling smoke fro-”

the man nodded hesitantly, hair moving toward his face, “i know what it is.” the drone of his accent budded excitement in your chest.

you cocked an eyebrow and inched closer to him, “i haven’t.”

he stopped all movement, looking up at you to process the loss of space between him and you.

“how does it feel?” you tilted your head, shame or dignity nowhere to be found within you.

daryl’s chest heaved as he brought the joint in his hand to his lips. you watched him, processing his movements, heart beating faster than usual. his lips worked fast around the pre-roll, leaving you wondering whether he would look the same between your legs.

your thighs squirmed, body feeling smaller and smaller in front of the man leaning closer and closer to you. his hands cupped your face, the cool metal of his rings contrasting his burning fingertips.

your lips parted as you looked up at him through your eyelashes, surrendering into his hold. pulling your face in, he switched his gaze from one eye of yours to the other.

the strong yet subtle aroma of his cologne mixed with the frankly delicious scent of the drug scrambled your senses. daryl looked down, blowing smoke in a thin stream, refusing to look away from where the smoke met your lips.

like a reflex, you inhaled, hands grabbing at his legs for balance.

the room seemed to darken in comparison to the man holding your face. suddenly he and you were the only objects in the world, floating. daryl’s hold loosened as you inhaled for what felt like years of your life.

“how about that?”

your breath staggered, processing what happened a second ago. you nodded, not pulling away from him.

daryl was definitely high. a pinkish hue masked his eyes, eyelids drooping down lower than usual, and a mindless smile playing on his lips. you could say the same for yourself, still processing the position you were in with a handsome stranger you met, thanks to glenn.

“that was.. um… yeah. fun…” you struggled to find the words, still looking into his cold eyes. you shifted your weight, the flannel of your pants rubbing deliciously against your core, making you hitch your breath.

“you gon’ pull away?” he spoke, not letting go.

“you gonna let go?” you retorted, not pulling away.

you had to grow some balls. here you were, getting high with someone you actually were interested in after a long time. that was not the right time to second- guess yourself.

fingers tracing his jaw, you leaned in.

“daryl. can i kiss you?”

you could see the gears turn in his head as you waited for what felt like years for a response. not a word was spoken. the dim lamps lit the back of his head casting an angel like glow to his silhouette.

he brought the flaming end of the joint to his tongue, putting out the embers with a soft sizzle.

you widened your eyes, “what the fuck, how did that not hurt-”

silence.

the softest pair of lips on yours shut you right up, your nose finding warmth against his skin. daryl pulled you in, fingers reaching for your hair.

what was happening?

you kissed back, sitting up straight to find balance. his hands roamed your back and stopped at the small of it. he tightened his grip around the fabric of your tank top and pulled you in. your chest leaned flush against his, feeling the outlines of his several silver chains on your breasts.

your lips grew hot with every kiss you planted on his, his tongue swiping your bottom lip before biting it gently. the very involuntary moan he pulled out of you, had his chest heaving. your fingers found his small waist, relishing the way he felt under your touch.

daryl pulled away, muttering a string of “fuck”s , eyeing you head to waist, “you sure you want to?”

you deadpanned, mouth open at the man’s obliviousness, “yeah, i’m kissing you back because i don’t want you.”

“hey, no sarcasm. yes or no?”

“yes, daryl. you?”

“hell, yeah,” he nodded, pulling you in with one arm as he made himself more comfortable on your bed.

you pressed kisses on his neck, arms anchoring yourself around him on the cream-colored sheets. his shoulders settle, a long sigh escaping his lips. the grip of your fingers on his waist tightened when you caught the scent of his cologne mixed with the cigarettes you assume he had been smoking all day.

he leaned back on your pillow, eyelids dropping as he spread his legs to sink further down on the mattress. you tugged at the waistband of his jeans, signaling him to undo his belt. as he worked on his pants, you were quick to shed your tank, revealing your bra.

daryl stopped fumbling with his belt to look at you, breathing getting heavier, cock stirring at the mere sight of a topless you.

“daryl!” you reminded, noticing how distracted he was. watching him undo the zipper on his pants and push them down had you drooling in anticipation. you did not know it was possible to drool at the sight of someone, but there you were.

you started unbuttoning his shirt, peppering kisses from the nape of his neck to his collarbones, taking your sweet time to taste him. your other hand, having a mind of its own, palmed him through his boxers, fishing his first moan for the evening.

“you like it when i do that?” your open mouthed kisses made their way to the shell of his ear.

“fuck… yeah, do it again.”

following a soft chuckle, your legs straddled his waist as you helped him remove his shirt. you weren’t surprised when his tattoos were revealed, or his numerous chains for that matter. what you were intrigued about, however, were his scars.

scars scattered across his torso, some covered up with tattoos, some not.

“oh, um. yeah, these-”

“you don’t have to tell me.”

he nodded, relief washing over him. you sensed the hesitation in his voice as he tried to explain. you could tell that was not the time, clearly.

one of your hands slipped under his boxers, feeling his length. daryl’s mouth dropped open, eyes rolling back at your touch.

daryl was big. not just length-wise either; your fingers wrapped around him but barely met as you stroked up and down his shaft. his heartbeat quickened as he bucked his hips into your palm, desperate for more friction.

you had forgotten all about the pathetic state of your arousal between your legs, completely focused on making the guy writhing under your touch feel good.

so imagine your surprise when he mirrored you, his right hand sliding down your underwear to rub at your clothed clit.

you noticed daryl smile mindlessly, wondering what amused him in the middle of getting a hard-on.

“you get this wet for a stranger?”

a jolt of lightning shot up your pussy as you detached your lips from his neck, rocking against his thick fingers to meet his eyes.

“i wouldn’t be talking shit ab-... about someone who’s got your dick in their hand,” you replied, trying to concentrate on your hand and hip coordination.

“just a- fuck … just observing,” he whimpered through heavy breaths, eyeing your chest.

his fingers deftly hooked the fabric of your underwear to pull them to the side. before you could brace for impact, the coolness of his touch met the warmth of your pulsating clit, applying minimal pressure.

“daryl, fuck, can you just-” you pleaded, grinding harder against his fingers.

“nah,” you felt his smile through the kisses on your neck as his other hand unhooked your bra with ease.

you were so fucking close. but this was a competition, an unspoken one, but one nonetheless.

trying your best not to give in to his frankly skilled fingers working your pussy, your own stroked the head of his cock, earning a choked moan from the man who momentarily stopped all movement in utter surprise.

the bouts of energy shooting up your core were ten times more intense because of the weed. and maybe, probably, definitely because of daryl. that toy in your nightstand couldn't make you clench around nothing like his fingers did just a few seconds ago.

your biggest mistake was thinking that you had gotten the best of him. his focus, although seemingly on your breasts bouncing in his face, was on his own fingers, rubbing at your folds before sliding a digit down your slit and dipping into you.

head thrown back and eyes rolling to the back of your head, you gasped in your highest voice, painful pleasure coursing through your veins.

the pad of his thumb rubbed circles on your clit, the rest of his digits gathering your arousal to rub the folds of your pussy.

“this is to- too much, oh i feel so fucking good-”

“hush now, you don't wanna wake them up,” he reminded you, the stubble on his chin scratching against the soft skin on your tits. bringing his mouth to one of your nipples, he nibbled softly, massaging your other breast with his free hand.

you brought the hand previously wrapped around him to your mouth, spitting on your palm and pulling him out of his boxers before covering him with your saliva.

it was his turn to try and be quiet, teeth sinking down on his lower lip as he watched you jerk him off, smearing your spit on his tip and dipping into the slit of his cock with your thumb.

“where’d’ya lear- … learn all this?” the drawl in his voice grew raspier.

“i got my ways,” you looked up at him, mind hazy as ever, yet still focused on what was at hand. literally.

you don’t know what came over you when you pulled away from him entirely to take your pants off. daryl watched you strip, eyes raking your naked silhouette.

“what are you doi-” he began, trying to put two and two together. you climb back into your bed, pulling daryl in by his arms.

reaching for his cock, you straddled his waist, pulling your panties aside and slapping his shaft against your folds, the mere sound of contact sending shockwaves to your gut.

you rocked into his shaft, rubbing yourself up on him, your arousal smothering the tip of his cock almost immediately.

the warmth of your core sent daryl over the edge as his hands gripped firmly at your waist, rubbing his shaft up and down your slit.

your hands grabbed his thighs, massaging them steadily as the two of you continued to grind against each other, the tiniest of frictions bringing you closer to the edge.

“daryl, i don’t think i can last longer i-”

“me neither sunshine, you wanna do the honors?”

you nodded, wetting your lips and chasing your high. the sinful noises of his cock rubbing up against your pussy as you grow wetter by the second only help you as you bounce up and down against him faster and harder.

you panted his name, eyes shut and nails clawing his biceps, the tip of his cock swollen pink and pulsating.

as you focused on cumming, you didn't notice his thumb pressing down on your clit in one swift motion, sending white-hot flashes through your nervous system, your pussy clenching around nothing. his finger did not leave your clit, even when you fell back on the mattress, feeling your orgasm crescendo as your body shook in sheer euphoria.

you gripped your sheets, whimpering through the orgasm as you bit your fingers to stay quiet. tears of pleasure threatened to spill from your eyes when you arched your back at your final clench before letting go in exhaustion, clit throbbing bluntly from the aftermath of your climax.

your eyes flickered to daryl’s cock, the head leaking with precome as he watched you cum around his cock. he swallowed thickly, hands inching closer to your figure.

“daryl, you wanna come on my tits?”

eyebrows raised, he nodded hurriedly, climbing on top of a very topless you, and stroking himself. it still seemed as if he held back on cumming too soon even though you were the first one to do so.

cocking an eyebrow, you massaged the inside of his thighs, inching closer and closer to his pelvis before cupping his balls.

a guttural moan escaped his lips, the hand on his cock speeding up its pace. his mouth fell open, “fuck fuck fuck i’m coming, im coming-”

his climax painted your chest as his elbow propped himself up near your head, trying not to collapse on you.

your fingers played with the liquid, smearing it on your breasts before bringing them to your mouth and pushing them past your lips.

daryl, still recovering from his orgasm, took notice of that, a small smile playing on his lips before kissing you. the slightly salty taste of his own climax flooded his mouth as he felt your fingers thread his hair.

pulling away, you stared at him, the sheen on sweat on his forehead and chest a pretty reminder of what just happened between the two of you.

“you treat all your houseguests like this?” you heard him through the pulsation now in your ears.

that comment earned him a playful slap on the arm. “gonna help me clean this up first?” your eyes pointed toward your tits.

“depends, can i sleep over?” he questioned, already on his way to grab some tissues, letting you know he was joking around.

you giggled, sitting up to face him, “you can come over anytime you want daryl, you bring the weed next time though.”

you swore you heard him chuckle before saying, “deal.”

__________

hii ! pls comment and let me know if you liked the fic!! <33

[twdeadfanfic]

Snuggling with Daryl after a run...

Just a small, plotless but (hopefully) fluffy ficlet that came to my mind while I was working.

I hope you can enjoy it.

You ran your fingers through Daryl’s hair, working the shampoo into his roots, your own hair already shampooed and washed. For someone who had grumbled and rolled his eyes while you made him get into the shower with you, instead of letting him flop down onto the bed already, after you two came back from the run, Daryl seemed pretty content right now while you caressed his hair, eyes closed and leaning against you, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he went ahead and purred. You didn’t say anything, though.

Alexandria might have its ups and downs, but being able to shower with actual hot water when you needed it was for sure a plus.

The run hadn’t been a particularly hard one, but you were tired anyway, you understood wanting to just lie down for a spare moment, but still, you knew you had to wash the mud that you had on you from digging some walker-traps outside Alexandria. Your comfy bed was another Alexandria plus and you didn’t want to get it full of mud.

Soon, you and Daryl were clean and on your way to bed…no matter the sun was still up outside, by now you both had been working out there for almost sixteen hours, so you were pretty sure you both deserved a nap.

You closed the curtains while Daryl dropped down on the bed with a sigh, and you knew he was tired too, even though you knew that if right now someone barged through the door, asking him to do something, he’d say yes and get right to it as if he didn’t need the rest. He was an over-worker and he always fought you on it when you told him so. But right now, he too looked pretty done with the day, eyes already closed as he tried to get comfortable despite aches and sore muscles.

Crawling on the bed and pretty much over Daryl, you let out a content sigh of your own as you lied over his bare chest, and sure, the pillow would be fluffier and softer than Daryl’s firm chest, but you’d much rather lie there.

It didn’t take a second for Daryl’s strong arms to wrap around you as you curled up to him, and you felt the vibration on his chest as he hummed contently, nuzzling your hair before resting his chin on top of your head, while his fingers absentmindedly drew lazy patterns over the skin of your shoulder and arm.

There was no better way of sleeping, you were sure of that, no other way in which you could feel more cared for and loved, more comfortable and warm, neither safer, and you had to wonder how had you ever slept before you got lucky enough to share a bed with Daryl.

The sun was setting and you were more asleep when you finally rolled off Daryl’s chest…you didn’t move far, though, just turning to your side, facing the wall while Daryl turned with you so his chest was pressed against your back, his arm wrapping around you to keep you close, nuzzling your hair again, and you let out a sleepy, happy mumble.

No better way of sleeping for sure…

You loved it too, though, when it was the opposite around, when Daryl was the one half lying over you, head pillowed on your chest, his warm weight comforting over you, or when you were the one holding him, arm around him as you snuggled to his back, trying to infuse him with as much love, care and protection as you felt he deserved…you knew he hadn’t gotten much of that, or even any, during his life…but you’d make up for that lack of it now.

Still…you were sure there was no way you could feel safer than sleeping like that, the warmth of Daryl’s chest reassuring behind you, his strong arm protectively wrapped around you…Even if you were asleep in a world full of threats, when you slept like that, it felt as if nothing could ever harm you.

*

Thanks for reading, please leave a comment if you can, and as always, excuse my English.

[knucklescum]

Daryl helping the reader fall asleep or helping when she’s injured if ur up for that? thank u!! 💗

eeeee this was a fun one to write, thank you for such a sweet request! i imagine this to be set somewhere between season 2 and 3? like when they were on the road?

Pairing: Daryl Dixon / fem!reader

Warnings: none unless we count Daryl being a lil cutie

Word Count: 739

It had been a difficult couple of weeks. With no food, limited water and morale at an all time low, it was safe to say that the group was struggling. 

There was only one thing keeping you going: the man hovering in your general vicinity, always keeping you in his line of sight, always with one hand resting on his crossbow.

“Come on, girl,” he huffed, his shoulder brushing yours as he matched your stride.

It had been a long, stressful day with absolutely zero chances to even think about taking a break, but Daryl’s gentle nature (with you, at least) made you feel as though you’d been walking for no time at all. He nudged you again, nodding his head towards what you could only describe as safety. There were actual buildings, with actual windows and actual doors.

The sun had long since set, yet you had only just managed to find somewhere to spend the night - a small, secure house on the very edge of what was a formerly-quaint town with, thankfully, no walkers lurking in the shadows. 

You sighed in relief as your backpack fell to the floor, sliding your back down the wall until you reached the floor. Looking up, you saw the hint of a smirk on Daryl’s face as he tossed his bags onto the hardwood beside yours.

The group had dispersed into separate parts of the house, presumably raiding any and all cupboards, leaving you and Daryl alone to settle into the living room. Daryl wasted no time, finally loosening his grip on his crossbow and placing it on the ground. He quickly began to rummage through the piles of miscellaneous things of the past in the middle of the room.

“What ‘you looking for?” you hum.

“Nothin’ in particular,” he said, not looking up at you as he continued his search.

“Alrighty, then,” you laughed, shimmying yourself across the floor and closer to your bags.

You had wrestled a couple of your blankets out of your backpack when you heard a satisfied ‘huh’ from across the room. Glancing upwards, you see his fingers wrapped around a palm sized silver box.

His footsteps were silent as he walked back towards you, scooting himself into the gap between you and your backpack. Holding his hand out for you to see, you finally recognise the mystery item that he had plucked from the ground.

“Vintage,” you chuckled, giving him a smirk as you gently took the Walkman from his hand.

“Merle stole one of these from some chick at a bar,” he smiled, shaking his head. “I was so fuckin’ jealous.”

You smiled as you unwrapped the shitty, plastic earphones from around the device. Prying it open, you finally got to see what you’d be listening to until the walkman inevitably breaks.

“Phil Collins? Come on, man,” Daryl sighed, kicking his foot against the ground.

“What were you hoping for?” you teased. “A little bit of Kylie Minogue?”

“Kill me now,” he sighed again, shaking his head.

You hold out one of the earphones, leaving him with no choice but to tuck it into his ear.

“I hate you,” he whispered, still slowly shaking his head.

“You love Phil Collins, don’t lie,” you chuckled, raising your eyebrows at him. “Besides, this is a fantastic album,” you said, finally getting the tape player to function. “Face Value, baby.”

Daryl could only smile in response as the sounds of In The Air Tonight filled his ears. You began to settle against the wall as you put your earphone in your ear. The two of you remained in a comfortable silence throughout the song’s entirety, although the air between you started to change as Daryl listened intently to Phil’s words in This Must Be Love.

“I remember you sayin’ listenin’ to music helps you sleep. ‘Figured a house full of junk must have something useful to ‘ya.”

You couldn’t fight the blush that had quickly rushed to your cheeks, and evidently you couldn’t hide it either as you heard a soft exhale of breath escape Daryl’s lips. 

“You’re too sweet, Daryl,” you smiled, pulling one of your blankets over his legs.

You moved to rest your head on his shoulder, his arm worming its way between your back and the wall for his hand to settle on your side. You felt your eyes begin to shut, slowly, as you lean further into Daryl’s side.

“Only for you.”

i hope you enjoyed this! if so, please comment/reblog, i'd appreciate it a lot <33

[walking-mf-dead]

I was on the brink of having a breakdown and needed to redirect my energy to something else so I went to my notes app and uh… yeah. A shitty little drabble. Enjoy ☺️ (May be cross-posted to Ao3!) ((also the format looks funky because I wrote this in my notes app and copy/pasted it onto here via phone))

Pairing: Daryl Dixon/Reader

Relationships: Rick Grimes/Reader (Adoptive Daughter), Negan Smith/Reader (Biological Daughter)

Warnings: The Walking Dead typical violence, thoughts of death/suicide, self-deprecation, Canon Divergence, Death/Murder

________________________________

A Warning

I can't hold on anymore.

It feels like the pit in my chest is getting deeper. The lump in my throat getting bigger, harder to swallow down and ignore.

My eyes burn with unshed tears and my clenched teeth hurt my jaw.

The palm of my hand is being indented with the ragged nails I had chewed and bitten off overtime with my anxiety taking over me.

Never did this thought of death feel so appealing until now. Not until we got to Alexandria and it all went to shit. I knew it was all too good to be true.

My knees are aching on this forest floor.

Negan starts his little song, his voice vibrating up my spine. Giving me goosebumps. Forcing bile into my mouth as his bat points directly at my head.

I follow the bat up to his eyes.

“Well darlin’! I didn’t expect to see you here.”

He kneels down and gently grabs my chin, forcing me to keep eye contact.

“I’m almost tempted to skip you darlin’. You can come home. Mm? Wanna come back home to Daddy?”

The venom on my tongue is searing, “Fuck you Negan.”

“That’s no way to talk to your father, kid.” His face steels has he stands up.

I smirk up to him, “Go on Daddy. Do it. Like you do to every one else. Swing.”

“Do NOT fucking do this. Do you really think I want to bash in my own kids head? Huh?” His eyes look wild, as though his psyche is breaking slightly. Only slightly.

“How about, we try this again, hmm gang?! Let’s try this again and if it lands on this lovely lady then so fucken be it!” He yells out to his loyal subjects who break out into cheering.

“Eeny… Meeny… Miny… Mo. Catch… a Tiger… By… His Toe. If… He Hollers… Let Him Go. My Mother… Told Me… To Pick… The Very… Best… One. And you… Are… It.” He drawls out once more but this time, this time it was with purpose. The bat swings by me and points to Abraham. No.

“Anybody moves, anybody says anything, cut the boys other eye out and feed it to his father. And then we’ll start. You can breathe. You can blink. You can cry. Hell… You’re all gonna be doing that.”

CRACK!

The bat brutally hits into Abraham’s skull.

But he sits back up, his face mangled.

“Would you look at that! Takin’ it like a champ!”

WHACK!

Oh God.

Abraham’s blood is splattered on my face. I still. My body shaking and I lose focus on where I am and what’s happening.

Before I can clock it, I’m standing, barreling into Negan while Abraham’s dead body lays beside where I was. His head melding into the ground below.

I wail all of my force into punching my fathers face. He quickly overpowers me and throws me off. He stands up, grabbing Lucille from the ground and in pure rage he slams the bat into my abdominal area.

My scream echos into the surrounds and I feel my body and clothes tearing as the barbs pull back up on the bat.

My hands shake as I hold onto my stomach, looking up in pure fear at Negan. And he stares back, the same look of fear on his face.

“Baby, baby no. No no no. Fuck. FUCK.” He kneels down and pulls up my shirt despite my denial, and assess the wounds.

I look over to Daryl. His face is ghost white. “Daryl… Honey I love you.”

“Consider this a warning.” Negan announces, standing up.

“A big fucken warning. I’ll be around in 2 days to settle an arrangement. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes Negan. Perfectly clear.” Rick strains out.

Negan gives me one last look before calling his men away to go back to The Sanctuary.

Rick and Daryl rush over to my side. Daryl brushing my hair from my face and giving me a solid kiss on my lips.

I look to Rick. “Will I be okay?” He nods. But I don’t know if I believe him. Not yet.

Rick, Carl and some others return to Alexandria to plan what’s happening with Negan while Daryl, Glenn, myself and Maggie head to Hilltop to use their medical services.

Daryl clutches onto me, hoping I make it through the next few days.

[flow33didontsmoke]

when y/n does something so bad/embarrassing you have to facepalm and close your eyes for a minute

[bethsvrse]

me staring at my ceiling after y/n does the most FLABBERGASTING thing ever

[shoot1ngst4r]

going out of your way to search up [insert character] ANGST and all you get is smut

[ruerecs]

PSA! you don't have to have smut in your fic to make it good.

for all the butthurt people in my reblogs, i’m literally a writer too. that’s literally why i made this post, never said you shouldn’t. just said you don’t have to? (all the people complaining about this post just know i’m laughing at your replies🙂‍↕️)

[natti-ice]

every time i remember my favorite person isn’t real

[topazy]

Tomorrow's promise

Pairing: Daryl Dixon × reader, Rick Grimes × sister reader

Warnings: Swearing, violence, blood

Chapter: 3.06

Merle was trying to intimidate you by dragging his blade across the metallic table in front of you. The screeching noise caused you to flinch. You had spent the last couple of hours listening to Merle interrogate Glenn, beating him senseless for information, but not once did Glenn break. His actions solidified your reasoning for refusing to tell him anything; you’d rather be tortured than tell him anything.

You were being kept in a bricked-up building; the white paint on the walls has begun to peel off with dampness, and aside from the one door leading in, there was no other exit for you to escape out of.

Standing in front of you, Merle cocks his head to the side and says, “That shirt you’re wearing belongs to my brother.”

“How observant.”

“He gave it to you?”

You roll your eyes and say, “Yes.”

“He ain’t usually one for sharing.”

You say nothing back. Your people would have figured out something was wrong by now, and your brother would have come up with some plan to find you and Glenn. Even if Rick has started to lose his mind, this would force him back into reality.

“Listen, sugar tits. I don’t want to hit a girl, but I will if I need to.”

It’s difficult for you to comprehend that Daryl and Merle are brothers because the older Dixon was so vile in comparison to his younger brother. Merle begins to rant about Rick, Glenn, and T-Dog leaving him on the roof in Atlanta to die. While Merle shares his version of events in which he’s the victim, you manage to loosen the tape bounding your wrists behind your back.

You don’t let anything Merle says rile you up, until he mentions Rick one too many times, and it causes a wave of anger to wash over you.

“All I want to know is where my baby brother is and where that goddamn sheriff is so I can make the son of a bitch pay!”

Using your free hand, you punch Merle in the face; the unexpected blow causes him to stagger back. When he’s stable, he pulls his gun out and hits you in the face, causing blood to pool from your mouth. It takes you a few seconds to register that blood is not just coming from your lower lip; you bring your hand to your mouth and feel that a bottom tooth is missing.

Merle jolts forward and clenches your cheeks with his hand. “Do you have any idea who you’re fucking messing with, girl?”

You smack his hand away. Glaring at him, you say, “I’m y/n Grimes, and when my brother comes for us, I’ll make sure he takes more than your fucking hand this time!”

Merle tenses them out of the room.

—

Your tongue becomes numb when you bite it so hard in an attempt to hold back tears. Since you told Merle nothing, the governor has tried to pry information out of you with various threats. When that didn’t work, he forced you to strip off all the top half of your clothing. When you crossed your arms over your chest to try and cover yourself, he just laughed at you.

The governor was now dragging you roughly by the arm to another part of the building, with Merle and another man leading the way, each of them holding guns in their hands.

You gasped in shock at the sight of Glenn's severe beating upon entering the next room. Blood streamed from his ears, nose, and mouth, while bruises marred his face. His left eye was so swollen that he could hardly open it.

“We’re through with games,” the governor says, pulling out his gun and pointing it at your head. “Now, one of you is going to give up your camp.” When you don’t answer, he lets out a dark chuckle. “No? Let’s see if this gets you talking.”

Feeling a sudden, sharp pain in your lower leg, you stumble forward. One of the men had sliced your calf with a knife. You spit blood from your mouth out onto the ground. “I’m not going to tell you sadistic fucks anything!”

When the governor raises her hand to strike you, Glenn blurts out, “The prison.”

The governor lowers his hand, and Merle asks, “The one near Nunez? The place is overrun.”

“How many?”

When you don’t answer again, the governor points his gun at Glenn. “You have until I count to three, Miss Grimes. One…two…”

“Eleven,” you sob.

“Eleven people cleared that whole prison of walkers?”

You nod.

Enraged, the governor places his hand on your back and pushes you to the ground on his way out. As you weep, Merle and the other man step over your body and out of the room.

Glenn rushes to your side; he tries to help you up, but you refuse since you’d be showing him your bare chest. He takes his top off, hands it to you, then turns around for you to put it on. Once it’s on, you sit upright, and you bend your leg to inspect the bleeding wound. The cut wasn’t big but looked deep.

“Fuck, that looks bad, y/n.” He moves closer to inspect your face. “The governor took your tooth?”

“Merle hit me with his gun.”

Glenn starts to look around for something to help stop the bleeding. The room you were locked in reminds you of the wooden shed in your garden that Shane used to leave his unwanted junk in.

The disgusting treatment you and Glenn received pulls at a memory—something you’d tried so hard to keep locked away inside the back of your mind. In between sobs, you say, “Rick will find us; I’m not sure how, but he will.”

—

When more of the governor's men, led by Merle, came back to torture you for more information, you and Glenn attacked them with makeshift weapons. One of the men tried to force you to stand; you stabbed him in the throat with the sharp edge of a broken pipe, while Glenn tried to tackle Merle, but you were outnumbered.

Forced onto your knees, a sob slips from your lips. The men were reloading their guns behind you, getting ready to kill you with their execution style. Glenn, who looks terrified beside you, holds your hand. “We’re going to be okay; just look at me.”

“I’m never going to see Jace again.”

“Maggie will keep him safe.”

His grip on your hand tightens as the men approach to put sacks over your head.

“It’s been fun catching up,” Merle taunts.

All of a sudden, there’s a loud bang followed by smoke, which makes it hard to breathe with your head covered. Perhaps this was their cruel way of killing you—gassing you to death.

The sack is ripped off your head, and you’re met with a familiar face.

“Rick…”

Everything is chaotic as gunfire lights up the room, but with the smoke, it was hard to see who was shooting. Rick hooks his arm around you and helps you stay upright as you run from the room.

—

As soon as Rick lets go of you to barricade the door, you stumble to the ground. He tries to catch you, but he’s not fast enough. Rick had practically carried you across the street and into a small diner, which luckily had no windows, so hopefully it would give you cover for a little while.

Maggie kneels down and tends to Glenn, who’s leaning back against the counter, while Daryl and Oscar clear the back rooms.

Rick disappears and reappears within seconds, coming out of the kitchen with a tea towel in his hand. Frantically, he ties the fabric around your lower leg, and when you yell in pain, he apologizes, “Sorry, sorry. We gotta get you two out of here.”

“How’s Jace?”

Daryl answers before your brother can. “Aside from missing his mom, the little guy is fine.”

“Carl?”

Rick's eyes soften. “Don’t worry about them right now; they are safe. Everybody in the prison is fine. Y/n, Carol is alive.”

Finally, some good news.

Maggie looks over at your brother and says, “Help me get him up.”

Glenn was starting to look a lot worse, with his face becoming more swollen with each passing moment. You’re unaware of Daryl moving behind you until he hooks his arm around your waist and helps you to your feet.

Daryl presses a kiss into your hair and says, “Shit, what happened to your face?”

“I had the pleasure of meeting your brother.”

He steps back slightly, maintaining his grip without letting go completely. “My brother is here.”

“Daryl, this was Merle,” Glenn slurs as blood mixed with saliva dribbles from his mouth.

“It was him; he did this.”

“You saw him?” Rick asks in disbelief.

Glenn nods, “Face-to-face. He threw a walker at me. He was going to execute us.”

Daryl’s loose grip on you suddenly tightens again. “So, my brothers, is this governor?”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “He’s somebody else. Merle’s his lieutenant or something.”

“Does he know I’m with you?” Although it was a simple question, the way Daryl was looking at you made you feel it was much deeper.

“He does now,” Glenn says. “Rick I’m sorry, but we told him where the prison was. We couldn’t hold out.”

“Don’t; there is no need to apologize.” Rick says, “We have a car half a mile down the road, and we need to go now before they find us.”

—

The fight to get out of Woodbury, the hellhole of a town the governor runs, was brutal. Someone shot and killed Oscar, and Daryl went missing.

A woman named Michonne waited on the side of the road with you and Glenn. Neither of you were able to walk far, so you stayed while Rick and Maggie had gone back to search for Daryl.

“Y/n! Glenn!”

Hearing your brother's voice, you get to your feet and limp over to the tree line. “Rick, did you find him?”

Your brother nods, panting, and he raises his hand. “Now we have a problem here; I need you to back up.”

You see Daryl and smile, realizing that he's alive, but the spark of happiness you feel quickly falters when you see Merle behind him.

“What the hell is he doing here?” Glenn yells, pointing his gun at Merle.

Michonne points her sword at him and says, “He tried to kill me!”

While the rest of the group argues, Merle leans back against a tree, smirking. He was enjoying the chaos his presence caused. You make your way over to him slowly, which amuses him. “Now, sweetheart—”

You cut him off by head-butting him. “That’s for my missing tooth, you asshole!”

“Hey, now, you hit me first,” he argues.

“After you beat the shit out of Glenn!” You go to take a step closer to him, but Daryl holds you back.

“You hurt her?” He barks.

“Oh, I see how it is.” Merle sneers at his brother before turning his attention back to you. “Listen, girly, we both got a few bunches in, but I had nothing to do with you being dragged around topless; bosom’s on show for all.”

Before Merle can say anything else, Rick is on top of him, punching him repeatedly. At first, nobody intervenes, but when the blows don’t stop, Daryl lets go of you and moves to pull him off. “Rick, that’s enough!”

“Rick! Stop!”

It takes Daryl, Michonne, and Maggie to finally pull your brother off of Merle. The look in Rick’s eyes was almost feral, like one you hadn’t seen in years.

—

You sit in the passenger seat of the car your brother would be driving back, watching as Maggie, Glenn, Rick, and Daryl have a heated conversation in the middle of the road. Leaning your head back, you squeeze your eyes shut. All you wanted was to get back to prison and hold Jace.

You needed to see Jace, Carl, and your niece for yourself to fully believe they were safe.

When the car door opens, you sigh. You already have a sick feeling about what is about to happen. Without opening your eyes, you say, “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

“They ain’t allowing Merle to come back to the prison.”

You open your eyes to look at Daryl, who’s crouched down to be eye level with you. He appears to be in a state of despair; it's the first time you’ve ever seen him look so defeated. “You surprised me after what he did to me and Glenn?”

“No.”

You rack your brain, trying to find any other solution that didn’t result in Daryl leaving, but there was none. “None of us want you to go.”

“I know,” he says, looking down at the ground. “Merle is coming in and out of consciousness; if I leave him on his own and a walker finds him... He’s my blood; I can’t do that.”

Your eyes cut across the road to Rick, who was patiently waiting. It stung knowing that if the roles were reversed, you wouldn’t leave your brother behind; “we’re your family as well.”

Daryl looks up at you again; this time his eyes are filled with unshed tears. “I just… I need you to know if Merle was able to protect himself. I’d be leaving here to go back to the prison.”

“What about when he’s better?”

“I’ll find my way back to you.”

[itshelia]

Taking anti-depressant pills?? Seeing a therapist??? Journaling???? No need babe, my fav writer just dropped another x reader fic.

[moonxnite]

y’all ever fantasize about a fictional character a little too hard to the point you’re convinced you should be admitted to a mental hospital?

[twdeadfanfic]

The Missing Bolt

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Daryl's looking for a missing arrow, that he can't find, unaware that reader has taken it to keep with her while he's gone on a run. Inspired by a request with the sentence "One of Daryl's bolts was missing." Shy Daryl and even shyer reader.

One of Daryl’s crossbow bolts was missing, and he was quite puzzled about it.

It was not a mistake, he’d counted them twice, he knew how many bolts he had, and in case he may be mistaken, the missing bolt was not one of his handmade ones, but one of the scarce, store-made bolts that Glenn and he had found on a particularly lucky run.

He’d got only three of those, and he’d been saving them for a run in which he may need something more sturdy, even though his handmade bolts seemed to have been working rather nicely for now, if he may say so himself.

But now, the box where he kept his spare bolts in the armory had only two of those, and so, one was missing, there was no mistaking it.

Daryl blinked at the two bolts on his hand, a frown on his face…it didn’t make sense…nobody else had a weapon that needed bolts, so who’d take it? And it wasn’t like a piece of chocolate or a snack that someone may be tempted to take it was a crossbow bolt that nobody needed.

Daryl knew he’d not misplaced it, he hadn’t taken those bolts out of the box for anything, not until now that he was about to pack for the next run, which would be in a couple of days. Glenn and Maggie had been planning it for a long while, it’d be a long run, covering several places, in the hopes of finding anything and everything they may need for gearing the prison for a long winter.

So, where the hell was the bolt?

Even if he felt stupid doing so, since he was sure he had not misplaced it, Daryl went back to checking his cell and every other place where he may have lost the bolt, while also asking everyone around if they had seen it or taken it, and feeling pretty much like a fool while doing so.

*

Several hours later, Daryl was sitting down on the bed of his cell, the bolt was still missing, and he was still feeling more than confused about the whole thing.

He may even begin to wonder if he was losing his mind or some shit, but a knock on his door distracted him from his thoughts.

Looking up from the ground, his eyes found Y/N on the cell’s door, his frown deepening as he took in how nervous she seemed. Was there something wrong now? 

“Hey,” he greeted. “Ya okay?”

“Yeah, hi…yeah, fine…” Y/N stammered, which did nothing to ease Daryl’s concerns.

“Ya sure?”

“Yeah, yeah, just…uh…” Y/N stammered again and then she seemed to take a deep breath as if bracing herself…what the hell was going on. “I, uh…I heard you were looking for this…”

Walking in, she lifted her hand, showing Daryl’s missing bolt.

“Yeah, yeah.” He nodded, taken a bit by surprise…he’d looked for that bolt everywhere.  He walked the couple of steps that separated him from Y/N, who for some reason was still not looking at him, to take the arrow from her hand. “Where did ya find it?” 

“I, uh…” Y/N took another deep breath, head shaking almost imperceptibly, eyes still on the ground. “I had it on my cell.”

Well, he hadn’t checked there, but why would he? Y/N didn’t have a crossbow or any use for one of his arrows, and she was not a thief, not that the arrow was worth stealing for her…Daryl’s confusion just grew more.

“The hell ya wanted it for?” He was not angry, not at all, just confused, but Y/N couldn’t know that, and it sounded like he’d snapped at her, making her flinch, but Daryl was too baffled to apologize, still wondering what was going on and if the day could get any weirder.

“I…nothing…just…” Y/N walked backward out of the cell as if she couldn’t wait to run away, and Daryl’s confusion only grew when he saw that Y/N seemed about to cry, which, for some reason, made him almost feel like panicking. 

“Nothing…I…I’m sorry…I’m sorry I took it…I’m sorry I didn’t ask…I, uh…you’d got many, I thought…” She shrugged, swallowing hard. “Thought you wouldn’t need it or notice it,” she murmured. “I’m sorry…”

“Y/N, no, I…didn’t mean…” Now Daryl was the one stumbling over his words, but he had no idea of what was going on, he just knew that he hated to see Y/N like that, and he hated even more that it seemed he was the cause of it. “Ya, uh…need it for somethin’?” 

He had no freaking clue why Y/N might want or need an arrow, but Daryl felt like he’d give her all of his arrows if it meant he didn’t have to see her cry.

Y/N shook her head, not looking at him, and she seemed about to flee, so Daryl’s hand moved to rest on her arm to stop her, he hadn’t really meant to do it, but he couldn’t stand to see Y/N so upset.

“Hey…wait…” His voice was as soft as the hand on her arm, Daryl tried his best to be gentle even if he was confused about what was going on, but he knew he didn’t want to make things worse, upset Y/N more, make her think that he was angry or upset with her. “Somethin’ wrong?”

Y/N still seemed like she wanted to run away, but she didn’t, looking at Daryl’s hand on her arm as if it were keeping her in place, even if he wasn’t really holding her arm and she could have moved if she wanted to.

You looked from his hand to the ground, and then up at his confused, pretty blue eyes that were silently asking you to tell him what was going on, just for a second, before your gaze dropped down to the floor again, and you took a deep breath, almost as if bracing yourself for some kind of danger that Daryl couldn’t see.

“I, uh…” You stammered again, voice low, eyes cast down. “You…you’re going to that run, tomorrow…They’re saying it’s going to be a long one, so I, uh…I…I took one of your arrows, for, uh…like, if I…to, uh” you fought with your words. “To, uh…remember you, while you are away…” You whispered, looking almost like you were forcing the words out. “No…not that I need to look at an arrow for that, but, uh…I just…I…”

You gave up on words, shaking your head as you swallowed hard, your eyes wet, and before Daryl could do or say anything, you were rushing away.

Daryl wasn’t sure if he should follow you or not. He knew he hated to see you upset like that, he knew he wanted to make you feel better, but he wasn’t sure how, and he was unable to move anyway, feeling frozen in place, his mind racing with a million thoughts and emotions.

Y/N…she’d taken one of his arrows to keep with her while he was away, to remember him, she’d said so herself, and it didn’t look at all like she was lying or playing something…why’d she do that…did it mean…or it didn’t…and what if it did…

Daryl felt almost dizzy, his face felt like it was burning, heat rushing to it, while twirls seemed to dance in his belly at the same time that something clenched his gut, whether it was anxiety or excitement he wasn’t sure, and his heart seemed to be doing its own, odd thing too.

He had no clue of how he felt, or of what he felt, neither had he any idea of what to do, not that he could do anything, he was still frozen in place, in fear or in something else, Daryl didn’t know, as he tried to make sense of the storm of feelings washing over him, drowning him almost, but the thought of you with his keepsake arrow seemed to keep him afloat, sparking something in his belly, a warm feeling spreading through him…

*

It was so early in the morning that the sun was just starting to rise, barely visible in the clearing sky, but you’d volunteered with a couple of others to help and get everything ready for the people going on the run today, including breakfasts.

You’d been embarrassed at the idea of seeing Daryl, you were mortified after the events of the day before, ashamed…but you had already committed, and so you went to help anyway. 

You did bump into him a couple of times, but he didn’t say anything to you…he barely even looked at you, eyes cast down, keeping his distance. He seemed shy and skittish like you, even if you knew it was you the one who’d made a fool out of herself in front of him.

Maybe, in your foolishness, you’d managed to ruin your relationship with Daryl…maybe now he’d be too embarrassed to be around you, maybe he’d think you were a fool, maybe he felt uncomfortable being your friend now…

The idea made you want to cry and you could feel your eyes burning, tears threatening to fall, so as soon as you could, you rushed back into your cell.

You hadn’t even walked in when you saw it, the arrow placed on your pillow.

You froze for a second, puzzled, almost wondering if you were seeing things, and then you rushed to pick it up, looking at the arrow as if you were almost expecting it to come alive.

It was one of Daryl’s, you knew it not only because nobody else used bolts, but also because you recognized it as one of his handmade arrows…had he left it there, for you?

Maybe somebody else had? Somebody who knew what you had done, and who was trying to take the piss at you…but you couldn’t think of anyone who’d be mean enough. It’d to be Daryl…and you were totally certain he’d never do it to laugh at you.

So, why did he leave you one of his arrows? It’s for what you’d forced yourself to tell him, that you’d taken one to keep with you while he was away, to remember him?  Why did you tell him that, you’d embarrassed yourself to no end…but maybe, it was why Daryl had left you an arrow? Maybe it had meant something to him?

Maybe he was just being nice…maybe he’d left you that arrow out of pity…maybe…

You shook your head, letting out a sigh…It’d be days until Daryl were back and you could ask him, though you were sure you were not going to dare, and you were sure too that, besides worrying about him coming back safe, you were going to spend those days overthinking that arrow gesture…

*

Days seemed to pass slower and slower, but finally, the group was back.

You were happy and relieved to see them back and safe, and you knew you should go greet them and help to sort the stuff they’d brought back, but when you caught sight of Daryl parking his bike, all your embarrassment at your last conversation with him came back, clenching at your gut.

There were enough people helping already, and so you retreated back to the prison and your cell before Daryl could see you…you didn’t feel ready to face him yet.

You hadn’t been in your cell for long, though, sitting in your bed, back against the wall and legs dangling at the side of the bed, trying to read a book but only looking at the same page again and again, distracted with thoughts of Daryl, when you heard a knock on your cell door, finding the archer himself there.

It took you by surprise, the embarrassment and nerves that were already clenching your belly got worse, and you could do nothing but stare at Daryl…you knew you had to face him at some point, but you didn’t feel ready yet, you still felt like a fool, you didn’t know what to say, what to do…

Daryl seemed shy too, looking at you, seeming unsure of what to do when you did nothing, but he took a step into your cell.

“Hey,” he greeted and you knew you had to say something, but couldn’t. Luckily, Daryl didn’t seem annoyed by your lack of response, and he kept speaking, no matter how shy he seemed. “I, uh…brought ya this…”

Taking something out of his pocket, Daryl showed you your favorite snack. Now you were even more taken aback, you didn’t know what you were expecting, but it wasn’t that. 

Daryl had brought you your favorite snack from the run, came to your cell to give it to you… Nerves were still clenching your belly, but something else seemed to dance in it now too, twirling, while your heart did what almost felt like some sort of hop…

Did this and the arrow meant…something…or nothing..or were you reading too much into it…you couldn’t stop the onslaught of emotions, though, even if on the outside you were still silent and unmoving.

Daryl’s brows furrowed at your silence, lowering his hand and looking from you to the snack on his hand as if he were second-guessing himself, and so you forced yourself to speak.

“Thank you,” you choked out, though you didn’t get up to take the snack, and Daryl gave you a nod and a shrug, looking down, seeming awkward and shy. “I uh…I’m glad you’re back and uh…that you’re okay…”

Daryl just nodded again, looking at you and then at the ground again. “Yeah, uh…nobody’s hurt and we got all the stuff Glenn wanted, so…yeah, it was good…” 

He too sounded so awkward…the fear of having messed things up between you two, of now Daryl being awkward around you, overcame you again, taking over the butterflies that him bringing your favorite snack had dancing in your belly.

“Daryl, uh…” You didn’t even know what you wanted to say, and you reached to take the arrow that you had on your pillow. “Thank you for this too…” It came out almost like just a whisper, but at least you’d said it. Daryl just nodded, looking down shily. “If, uh…if you need it…”

Daryl shook his head. “Keep it.”

“Okay…” Everything felt so awkward…you looked down at your hands as you fidgeted with the arrow. “Thank you, and, uh…I…I’m sorry about…well, about the last time we spoke…if I, uh…If I made you uncomfortable…If I made things awkward…if what…what I did…taking your arrow without asking…and…and what I said…if…”

You were struggling with your words, with your emotions, so caught up in your head, in your shyness and anxiety, in all those feelings flooding you, that you didn’t notice Daryl walking closer until he was right in front of you.

“Did, uh…” When you heard Daryl’s voice, so close, you looked up, finding him looking down at you as you were still sitting on your bed. “Did ya mean it? What ya said, that day?” He whispered, fingers twitching, nervous, but he didn’t look away from you.

You swallowed hard, nervous, shy, still anxious and fearful, and yet, something sparkled in your belly at Daryl’s words, at the way he was looking at you…

You nodded, and you couldn’t stop your shyness from making you try to look down, but then, Daryl’s hand was stopping you from doing so, shy fingers reaching to gently touch your cheek, his knuckles stopping under your jaw, keeping your face lifted to look at you.

Your breath hitched in your throat, your shyness urging you to pull back, to look down, but you couldn’t, as if those dark, deep blue eyes that you couldn’t read, had frozen you in place, nervous twirls dancing in your belly…

You knew you should do something, say something, but you couldn’t. Confused, mixed feelings were washing over you, and you wondered what Daryl was thinking, you couldn’t read his face and he was not saying anything either…

Then, he was leaning down towards you, still silent, and for a second, you wondered if he was about to kiss you, your heart doing a summersault, but then, Daryl was leaning his forehead on yours.

You let out a shaky breath, feeling as if you were melting and floating at the same time, your heart was dancing on a similar pattern to the butterflies in your belly, but you were still as silent as Daryl.

He stood like that for a moment before pulling back, but he didn’t move far, in fact, he moved closer, so you could feel his warmth radiating through his clothes, smell the scent of leather, sweat, motor oil, and cigarette smoke lingering on him, as Daryl, still without a word, bent down to hide his face on your shoulder.

You felt his warm breath against the skin of your neck, making your heart and the twirls in your belly dance even more. Your arms seemed to move by themselves, without overthinking it for once, to wrap around him, to hold him gently, and then his arms were around you too.

You both stayed like that, silent, eyes closed, just hearing each other's breath and feeling each other's warmth, you didn’t know for how long…

You didn’t want to speak, you didn’t want to move, afraid of ruining the moment, but at the same time, you wanted to, you knew you should…Speaking took you almost more courage than charging against walkers, but finally, you did.

“Daryl…” You whispered, voice so low you weren’t sure he’d hear you.

“Hmm,” His humming against your shoulder was his only answer.

He’d seemed to relax as he leaned against you, but you thought you felt him tense ever so slightly at the sound of your voice calling his name. You weren’t sure if you may have imagined it or not, and it almost discouraged you from speaking again, but you gathered your courage to keep going.

“Daryl, you, uh… you know why I took your arrow?” You asked softly, trying not to lose your courage.

“Ya said it,” Daryl muttered against your neck, goosebumps forming on your skin at the feeling.

“Yeah, but…do you know why?” You tried again, even if you were shy, even if part of you wanted to stop, unsure about this being a good idea. “It’s…It’s because I, uh…miss you and worry when you’re away…and because I…care for you, and I…have feelings for you…”

You felt your face burning, anxiety pooling in your belly again, but with Daryl’s face hidden in your shoulder, so he couldn’t see yours, it was easier somehow.

Daryl didn’t say anything, your anxiety growing stronger, but before your fear could take hold of you, he was moving even closer to you, nuzzling your neck, making you almost squeal, a warm, fluffy feeling spreading to you.

After a short moment, Daryl lifted his head from your shoulder, his face still hidden from you, and then you felt his lips on your cheek in a soft and shy kiss. You thought you were floating again, the butterflies in your belly going crazy.

When he pulled back, you had to fight against your shyness to make you look at him, you didn’t want to hide away from him, not now. Daryl seemed to feel the same, dropping his gaze down, but then he was looking at you, holding your gaze, both of you silent.

Your hands were still on his waist, his hand moved again to your cheek, his touch warm and gentle, gentler than most people thought Daryl could be, the people who didn’t really know him.

He was leaning in again, or maybe it was you the one moving closer, or perhaps both, you didn’t know, neither did you know who started, who kissed each other first, but you didn’t care, all you knew was that Daryl’s lips were on yours, as soft and gentle as his hand’s touch, and that you both were kissing, everything else left your mind.

The kiss was gentle, tentatively, both Daryl and you were still shy and unsure, but you didn’t stop, the kiss slowly deepening, all insecurities leaving, all walls lowering as you kissed you didn’t know for how long.

Eventually, you both pulled back, but just enough to break the kiss, you were still holding each other, and Daryl’s forehead rested once again on yours, as if he was still too shy to pull away, as if he didn’t want to move away, and you were most certainly not going to complain.

“Daryl…” You pushed past your shyness to speak, your voice barely above a whisper. “Are you sure of this?” Your insecurity made you ask, even if you weren’t sure what you were asking…if he was sure of kissing you? If he was sure he wanted something like this with you? That was what you meant, but you didn’t feel brave enough to elaborate.

“Yeah,” Daryl whispered, so low you almost didn’t hear it, but you felt his forehead nudging yours as he nodded.

“Really?” You couldn’t stop your insecurities.

This time, Daryl pulled back but he didn’t go far, just enough to look at you. “Yeah,” he whispered again, nodding, holding your gaze no matter how shy he seemed. “You?” He asked, and you felt the nervous twitch of his fingers where they rested over your arms.

“Yes,” you whispered back, nodding. Your shyness was still there, your insecurities too, but that fluffy, warm feeling was back to fill you, elation taking over you, and you smiled, shy but blissful.

Daryl’s lips curled up too at the sight of your smile, his as shy as yours, but the pretties you had seen, you were sure of it. 

Your arms moved to wrap around him and he held you close too, so you leaned in, burying your face in his chest with a content sigh, feeling Daryl nuzzling the top of your head as he held you to him…

*

Several months had passed since that day, winter had given way to spring, and a new run had been planned, albeit a smaller one this time.

Daryl and you had never asked each other out, or anything of the sort, but you both knew that you were together and that you loved each other. Building your relationship hadn’t been easy, both of you had to fight through your shyness and your insecurities, things moved slowly as you both eased into being with someone else, into having a relationship, but it was more than worthy.

Now, you were on your way to the prison yard so you could say goodbye to Daryl before he left for the run. You spotted him tinkering with his bike and you made your way to him.

As you approached, you noticed the bracelet of thin, corded leather on his wrist. You’d made it while you were in the Greene’s farm, which seemed an eternity ago, and you usually had it on you, but that morning, you couldn’t find it.

The last thing you expected was to find it on Daryl’s wrist.

“Hey,” you greeted him, reaching for his hand and lifting it, looking at the bracelet. “Look where this was…” You arched your eyebrows, surprised and a bit confused.

“Yeah, uh…” Daryl scratched the back of his head with his free hand, seeming bashful. “Ya mind?”

“I don’t, but…I didn’t see you as someone who liked to wear bracelets,” you said, still amused and confused.

“I ain’t, but uh…” Daryl’s fingers played with yours nervously. “It’s yours, and, uh…remember what ya said, when ya took my arrow to keep with ya when I went to a run?” He asked and you nodded. “I, uh…saw yer bracelet on the bed and thought to take it with me to the run, ‘cause…ya know…” He trailed off, shyly.

Butterflies danced in your belly, and you let out an embarrassing, little squeak before you actually formed words.

“Yeah…yeah, I got your arrow so…you can keep this…” You nodded to the bracelet, smiling.

Daryl gave you a soft smile too, tugging at your hand to pull you closer, kissing your forehead before you kissed his lips.

“You’ll be careful, right?” You asked him once your lips parted, and Daryl nodded…you’d worry anyway until he were back. “Come on…I’ll help to get everything ready.”

Soon enough, he was riding out of the prison, in front of the car with the other people who were going to the run.  You waved him goodbye, smiling when he lifted one of his hands from the handler to wave at you too and you caught sight of your bracelet on his wrist.

*

I hope you enjoyed this little thing, if you did, comments and reblogs mean the world.

As always, excuse my English, it’s not my first language.

Tags comming on a reblog.

[sleepyangelkami]

smut's fun. have you ever read soul crushing, heart aching, head throbbing comfort that makes your eyes burn out of your head to the point where you just have to crawl into a ball because your inner child feels so safe? haha... yeah smuts fun.