Daryl Dixon X Reader - Tumblr Posts - Page 3

cuddling headcanons

warnings. brief mention of sex, cuddling, extreme fluff, brief mention of daryl’s childhood

divider credits. @cafekitsune

he would absolutely adore it when you play with his hair, you are the only person that he allows to touch it, and he would lay his head on your chest, and allow you to run your fingers along the roots of his locks

daryl would cuddle you from behind in a spooning position to keep you warm, especially if you were cold or camping out in the wilderness

cuddles after sex obviously! it was all daryl needed after sharing such intimacy together to feel close to you. it would also soothe him if he was having a difficult time or mourning the death of somebody that he/you/both cared about

if you were sleeping somewhere that daryl was unsure of (e.g. the first night in alexandria), he would ensure that he was closer than you to any entrance. he would lay on his back with you on your side next to him, with your head on his chest. and he probably wouldn’t sleep, wanting nothing more than to keep you safe

one of his favourite positions would be when you were both riding on his bike. he would be driving the motorcycle, with you behind him, with your arms wrapped around his waist. you’d press your cheek against his vest adorned back, if you weren’t driving away from anything in particular such as a herd of walkers

he would cuddle you from behind in the shower, the water from the shower head falling on your bodies as he simply held you. or if you were behind him, you would run your mouth and fingers across each of his scars, it would be like an emotional and sensual massage

(especially in the prison and farm era), whilst you were in her together you would wear his sleeveless shirts. daryl would peck and breathe against your shoulders. it would make his heart throb with adoration from seeing you in his clothes

even though it was something that he wouldn’t admit to anybody else, he is a man whom craves physical touch, and cuddles with you would fulfil that desire. at first he would be apprehensive and awkward with his position of being close with you, but eventually he would realise that being in physical contact with somebody did not mean that it would cause him pain. his childhood made him carry weariness from how his father would treat him, but once he lowers his walls to you, he would be the one initiating cuddles

(in reference to my lap girl series), you would sit upon his lap and cuddle. it would be a sensual and comforting way to cuddle, it would practically blur out your surrounding and make your focus be solely on one another

if anyone caught or walked in on the two of you whilst you were cuddling, daryl would get fairly embarrassed and hide his blushy face against you. whomever it was would tease you both through the day, until he told them to eventually shut up. but at the end of the day he knew that he was a lucky man to be the one that you chose to cuddle with

ok but daryl dixon fucking the shit out of you in doggy style, keeping your head pressed down on the floor with the weight of his foot. one hand gripping your hips, keeping your ass up in the air since you could barely support your own weight with how foggy your mind is, and the other one restraining both of your arms behind your back, making your wrists all bruised up from how rough he's being. every now and then he lets go of your hips to grab a fistful of your hair, pulling you closer so your back is pressed against his chest while he whispers in your ear, alternating between praising you and calling you every degrading name he can think of 🥺🥺 i just love mean daryl sm

Soft Spot | Part 1

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: Season 1 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: blood, injury, swearing ❧ Word Count: 4.5k

❧ Requested by @deathishereditary (this request—I swear you have the best ideas dude)

❧ Summary: Daryl finds his lady love injured in the woods after being separated, and everyone is surprised to find not only that Daryl has a girlfriend, but that he's very, very soft for her.

❧ A/N: Take a drink every time I come up with another pet name for Daryl/Reader. God, I love soft, protective Daryl. He's like a chocolate truffle—hard shell on the outside, soft, creamy filling on the inside (but all sweet!). We love our little chocolate truffle... Also, this fucking gif. Look at how cute he is. Look at him. He's so fucking cute. The face scrunch... I can't. I'm launching myself into outer space because of how cute this man is. Bye.

He emerged from the woods, your unconscious body draped limply over his shoulder as his feet hurried to get you to safety.

At this point, you were glad to be unconscious, lest you have to endure the pain of the bear trap’s spikes that had been embedded in your flesh. 

Upon impact, you had screamed, falling to your feet above the metal contraption that had sunk its teeth into your leg. An onslaught of violent, agonized tears intermingled with your terrified screams. It was the worst pain you’d ever felt in your life, which was saying something, since even the tiniest scratch was enough to bring you to tears.

This pain, though, was near catastrophic, almost sending you into an unconscious state to escape the agony of the sharp prongs carving jagged holes into your flesh.

Despite the urge to faint, it wasn’t the pain that knocked you out, it was the figure you saw running towards you, the man dropping his crossbow to the ground with a thud and nearly flinging himself beside you to free you from those jaws clamped around your leg.

“Dar-Daryl?” you sobbed, grasping onto his shirt collar and bringing him closer, trying to see if it was really him, your Daryl. Your man. “Daryl…”

You’d passed out before you could utter another word, but you weren’t sure if it was from the pain or the shock of seeing him. 

It’d been a week now since you had last seen him, when the safe zone in Atlanta was overrun and the last thing you remembered was his voice desperately calling your name amongst the crowd of panicked people that separated you until you couldn’t hear him anymore.

At least you knew he was with Merle, but for your part, you were terrified of being alone without him. He was the only person you trusted since the virus broke out, and the only person you needed. No one else could keep you safe like he could.

So you tried to find him, stumbling out into the woods on your own and somehow escaping unscathed from the grasp of the undead. You’d gone on autopilot after that, a terrified, defenseless creature just trying to survive.

Daryl had always compared you to a rabbit, even going so far to affectionately nickname you “bunny” for how easily scared you were. It was an apt comparison, as rabbits are known to have fatal heart attacks just at the first sign of threat. They’re a vulnerable species in the wild, always the prey of some predator higher up on the food chain, and you were no different. He knew that better than anyone, and now that he’d found you, he wasn’t going to let anyone touch you. Not in the slightest. 

“Outta my way,” he huffed, brushing past several members of his group he didn’t care to identify as his tunnel vision focused on the old Winnebago in the center of camp. 

“Dixon!” bellowed Shane, trying to match the serious man’s pace as he bee-lined to the trailer. “What the hell is goin’ on here? Who is this?”

Merle did Daryl’s talking for him, as usual. Despite his attempts to get his younger brother to forget about you, claiming you’d surely been trampled by the crowd or eaten alive by walkers, he couldn’t keep him from going out there everyday to find you.

“That goddamn woman,” he scoffed. “Thought we lost the stupid little bitch.”

“Shut the hell up!” barked Daryl, suddenly being bombarded with questions from the others as they surrounded him and the bleeding girl strewn over his broad shoulders. “She’s hurt!”

Merle scoffed again, hardly impressed by how you somehow managed to have a death grip on his heart even when you were unconscious. Two years of watching you “soften” his brother, turning him to jelly and making him beholden to your every beck and call, had turned Merle bitter towards you and your relationship. 

“Who is that?” asked Shane, watching Daryl hurriedly march up the steps to the Winnebago with Merle looking on, shaking his head in dismay. 

“His bitch,” he replied before spitting a glob of spit onto the dirt below, as if in disgust at the very idea of your existence.

Andrea seemed confused at the notion. “What?” she asked. Indeed, no one in the camp had any idea that Daryl was capable of affection, let alone love, since he’d never really shown it to anyone there in the week or so he’d been there, not even to his own brother, really. 

“His woman,” Merle clarified. “Girl’s got his brain and his dick in the palm of ‘er hand. Swear to God, never seen a man more whipped than that… Pussy will do that to ya.”

In the trailer, the questions didn’t cease as Dale and Glenn attempted to help Daryl unfurl you onto the bed, much to Daryl’s frustration.

“I got it!” he said, pushing Glenn away as he touched your leg. “Don’t touch ‘er!” He moved frantically once he’d gotten you on the bed, rummaging through the cabinets in an attempt to find first aid for your wound. “Where the hell’s your first aid kit, old man?!”

Dale looked wide-eyed at the prickly redneck, who’d only ever had wise-ass words to say to him and the other inhabitants of the camp, if he said any words at all.

“In the cabinet above the sink,” he said, exchanging dumbfounded looks with Glenn across the way. “You know, Jacqui knows stitches, I bet she can—”

“No one’s touchin’ her but me!” he bellowed, pointing towards himself as he glowered between the two men. “She’s my woman, my damn responsibility. No one touches her right now but me, you understand?”

Dale held his hands up in defense. “Just trying to help.”

Just then, Jacqui and Carol peered in through the door, worried as they gazed in the direction of the strange woman, sprawled out on the bed and bleeding into a towel wrapped around her leg. 

“Is she all right?” Carol asked. “Was she bit?”

Daryl scoffed as he hurriedly made his way over to you with the first aid kit and a handful of wet clothes to clean your wound. “She’s gonna be just fine,” he said rather aggressively despite the sentiment of his caring words. “Just got bit by a bear trap.”

He gently dabbed the wound with the wash cloth, wiping away the blood as it left diluted traces of crimson across your skin. He could see the wound better now, determining it wasn’t so bad. Of course, it must’ve hurt like hell, but he also knew just how sensitive you were, how little pain you could handle, and how your screams had alarmed him more than your actual wound. Still, you were here, breathing gently but steadily before him, tears staining your reddened cheeks as you lay there unconscious.

“Who is she?” asked Glenn, seemingly mystified by how devout the surly man was to you. Surely, you couldn’t have been a complete stranger, but it still seemed impossible for Daryl Dixon to care about anyone the way he obviously did as he cleaned your wound with the utmost tenderness. He’d referred to her as “my woman,” but it still seemed so improbable that such a sweet, frightened looking woman had love in her heart for such a standoffish, stoic man.

He didn’t answer for a while, only focusing on your leg between glances at your face, just to make sure you were really there. 

“‘Er name’s (Y/N),” he said quietly before turning to glower at the younger man. “You done askin’ me questions or what?”

Glenn swallowed hard and shrugged, still quite intimidated by Daryl despite his apparent affection for you, the unconscious woman who’d quickly become the talk of the camp.

Dale rested a hand on Glenn’s shoulder, guiding him back towards the door. “We’ll leave you alone,” he said. “Come on, son. Let’s check the radio again.”

Glenn shook his head in disbelief, while Dale shut the trailer door behind him with a deep breath before joining the others, who’d gathered around outside to discuss the strange event of your sudden appearance, and the stranger reaction from the surly archer.

“You’re not gonna get that boy to do a damn thing now that she’s here,” said Merle to Shane. “(Y/N)’s top priority now. Hell, she was already top priority. You think Daryl went into them woods just to bring back squirrels for you sorry sons of bitches? Nah, he went lookin’ for rabbits.” He gestured loosely towards the trailer. “That bitch has got to go, if you ask me.”

“Whoa, whoa,” said Dale. “What the hell are you talking about? We can’t just send an injured woman back out there, let alone Daryl’s, uh… girlfriend.”

Andrea huffed, still in shock. “Wow,” she said. “I can’t believe it.”

“Can’t believe what, blondie?” asked Merle in slight offense. “Can’t believe the Dixon’s got game? I’ll tell you what, it ain’t the fact he’s layin’ pipe, it’s just that he’s whipped. Kid’s got a dick but he ain’t got no damn balls.” He groped his crotch for emphasis. “Believe me, if my kid brother had a piece of tail like (Y/N) and left it at that, I wouldn’t have a problem. Nah, it’s ‘cause that pussy don’t let up, got this effect on him. Trust me, he’ll be in that trailer through nightfall till she wakes up ‘er pretty little head and starts cooin’ at him like he was a baby. Damn girl puts stars in his eyes.”

Jacqui scoffed, shaking her head at Merle’s disgusting words. “You’re a pig,” she said. 

Oh, how many times Merle had been called that. You’d thought it many times yourself, but you were too shy to say anything to his face, instead relaying to Daryl in private how uncomfortable he made you, in the most polite way possible, of course. 

“I’m just sayin’,” Merle replied. “Daryl’s better off without her, y’all are better off without her.”

“Now, look,” sighed Shane. “We ain’t kickin’ anyone out. Besides, you think Daryl would let us send her back out there anyway?”

“He won’t even let anyone touch her,” answered Glenn. “All but kicked us out of the trailer.”

Merle let out a scoff somewhere between indignation and amusement. “See? Already workin’ her magic, an’ she ain’t even conscious yet.”

Yet was the operative word. 

Indeed, you did awake several hours later, when the sun was just going down and outside the others prepared the nightly campfire, over which whatever squirrel Daryl had haphazardly dropped on the ground as he carried you out of the woods was being cooked in a somewhat passable stew. 

Your eyes fluttered hazily, and immediately the pain from your injury shot up through your leg, distracting you from any confusion you might’ve had, having somehow ended up inside an old trailer.

You hissed in pain, sitting up ever so slightly to assess the wound, but Daryl was quick to grasp your shoulders, sitting himself down beside you and softly guiding you back down to your pillow. 

“Daryl,” you sighed, wide-eyed and face contorted in an amalgam of confusion, pain, and utter overjoyment as you met his soft, sweet blue eyes. Oh, those eyes… Not long before you stumbled into that bear trap, you were thinking about how in all likelihood, you’d never see those beautiful eyes again. “What’s… What’s happening?” You felt his hand caress your cheek as you looked around, frantically trying to figure out where you were, as if there was any way you could recognize a place you’d never seen before in your life. “Am I dead?”

He furrowed his brow, studying your face for a few silent moments before breaking out into perhaps the biggest smile you’d ever seen on his face. He simply couldn’t help it—you had that effect on him. Even Daryl would admit Merle wasn’t entirely wrong. You did put stars in his eyes. That wasn’t up for debate.

“No, you ain’t dead,” he answered. His thumb tenderly petted the apple of your cheek while his eyes seemed to go a little hazy as he stared at you. With the sound of his voice confirming your waking state, you let yourself relax into his touch, always so soothing to you and your rather high-strung, fearful nature. “I found you.”

His other hand pinned your hair behind your ear just before you threw your arms around his shoulders, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck and rocking back and forth as you let out a muffled laugh, intermingled with sobs from your crying. It was mostly a happy cry, though you were also in the midst of a deep, searing pain. Still, you had your Daryl, and that was a more potent feeling than whatever contraption had plunged its spiky prongs into your flesh.

“Oh, Daryl,” you laughed (and cried), clutching to the back of his sleeveless flannel shirt you’d last seen him in. It was almost like you’d never been apart. “It’s you… It’s really you.”

To be held by you was an addiction of his, a vice that was strong enough to turn his insides to mush. Well, if that was his greatest vice, then he supposed he wasn’t too fucked up.

He shushed you, trying to calm your crying. You always were a crybaby. “Shhh, shhh… It’s me,” he said. “I’m right here, bunny. I got ya. You’re safe now.”

Unable to withstand another moment without the feeling of your lips on his, he turned his head to kiss you, his lips catching your tears as they fell down your cheek. It was a soft kiss, gentle and warm like always. You could never recall a time Daryl had kissed you with anything but the utmost sweetness in his heart. His softness for you was in everything he did, every movement he made around you, every touch he gave you, everything. 

You found yourself happily moaning into his kiss, smiling against his lips as his tongue hungrily massaged yours, still with as much tenderness as he could muster with how much he’d missed you. And, oh, how he missed you.

When his kiss finally relented, you peered over his shoulder to try to get a look at your leg again, but he grabbed your cheek, turning your gaze towards him. “Don’ look,” he drawled. “Jus’ look at me.”

He knew how much you hated the idea of being hurt, how even the smallest drop of blood could send you into a daze. Of course, you weren’t proud of that fact, and all throughout your life you’d tried to hide how sensitive you were, lest everyone ridicule you or accuse you of feigning your sensitivity for attention. Daryl, however, could never see you in such a way. He only saw a sweet, kind, beautiful woman who needed to be cared for more than other people, and he was ready to do that job. And boy, did he do his job well.

“It… It hurts, Daryl,” you said shakily.

He frowned, nodding his head in understanding. “I’ll get ya a painkiller,” he said. “Just gotta get to my tent real quick. I’ll be right—”

“No,” you said urgently, tugging him back towards you. “Please stay… I’ll be fine.” That was a lie, and he knew it, too. He could tell by the tears and the sniffles that you were in immense pain, but your need to have him beside you as much as possible at that moment was greater. “Just stay with me for now, please.”

He chewed his bottom lip, thinking for a moment. He wouldn’t leave, not a chance. You were clearly scared, and all you wanted was his presence. Surely, you’d want him to hold you like he always did, keep you safe in his arms as your body worked through the pain. 

He’d done it before, namely during your periods. Your cramps were always the most intense pain you’d ever experienced before this, often forcing you to stay home from work until they subsided. He’d drop everything to stay home with you, going to the store for emergency tampons, making you dinner as you were in too much pain to even get out of bed, rubbing your abdomen to soothe your cramps as best he could while he held you tight… Yeah, he knew how to take care of you better than anyone else.

“I won’t leave ya,” he said, then turned his head towards the window of the trailer to yell out his brother’s name. “Merle!” he bellowed. “Get me the aspirin, will ya?!”

A few beats of silence passed before Merle responded from somewhere outside the trailer: “Fuck you!”

“Get me the aspirin, dickhead!”

You were still entranced by Daryl when the pill bottle landed with a rattle beside your leg, causing you to look up at Merle, the bane of your existence. Despite your distaste for Daryl’s brother, you always put on a polite face, attempting to be cordial.

“Merle,” you breathed with a smile. “Thank God you’re all right, too.”

He scoffed, knowing you really hated him about as much as he was annoyed by you and your hold of his brother. “Thank God,” he repeated sarcastically. “See you already got your nurse workin’ ‘round the clock, hm? Tell ya the truth, we were just ‘bout ready to give up on you, sweetheart. Ain’t that right, little brother?”

“You bes’ shut the hell up,” replied Daryl, unscrewing the bottle of aspirin. “And you know that ain’t true, asshole.”

He turned towards you, holding out two pink pills and a glass of water. “Come on, sit up,” he instructed, then quietly spoke under his breath: “Gonna get you feelin’ better, sunshine.” 

You did as he said and took the glass and the pills from his hands, but not without noticing Merle’s obnoxious smirk. “Mhm, that’s right,” he drawled, licking his lips lasciviously. “Gotta get you all better so’s he can fuck you sideways again—”

“Goddamnit, Merle!” he yelled, tossing the pill bottle at his face. “Get the hell outta here ‘fore I beat your sorry ass!”

“Oh, yeah?” he laughed. “You and little miss Muffet? That’ll be the damn day. That bitch has got your balls locked up in a jewelry box, huh, baby brother? Thing is, I think you like it.”

“Get out!” he repeated, and with a few more choice words, which you didn’t care at this point to pay attention to, he retreated to his tent for the night, terribly annoyed by your presence, like you were some benign tumor on his brother’s heart. 

“Don’t listen to a word that comes out of that son of a bitch’s mouth,” Daryl said to you, lifting the bandage to inspect your wound (careful not to show it to you, of course). “I was lookin’ for you the moment I lost you up until the second I found you… Just wish this bear trap didn’t get ya ‘fore I did.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you thought about Merle’s words. “How does such a sweet, smart, selfless man have such a… pig for a brother?”

He raised an eyebrow, surprised by your usage of the word “pig.” You were usually much more vague about your criticisms of Merle. 

“You’re out there without me coddling ya for one week and you come back to me all feisty, huh, bunny?”

“I don’t have a feisty bone in my body,” you laughed. “I don’t even know how I made it out there without you.”

Indeed, he was wondering that, too. Of course, he knew you had a will to survive, that you weren’t entirely hopeless on your own, but in this world, people like you were easy prey, just like rabbits, and Daryl was more like a wolf. Well, a wolf who had developed a particularly soft spot for a rabbit, that is.

He scooted closer to you, raising his hand to your cheek once again, trailing the back of it slowly up and down your soft cheek. He just could never get enough of those adorable cheeks, especially when you smiled like you were now. 

“I just love ya so much,” he drawled, breaking into his own crooked smile at the end of his sentence. “I was never gonna stop lookin’ for ya, hope you know that.”

You nodded, holding his hand as he held your cheek. “I know, pumpkin,” you cooed, and he couldn’t even pretend to hate that little pet name you’d christened him with when you first started dating. “I was looking for you, too. I mean, I had no idea where to look, and I was just… running around, eating berries and mushrooms…”

“The ones I told you, right?” he asked seriously. 

You rolled your eyes, amused by his need to know you learned something from his “survival lessons.”

“Yes, Daryl,” you said. “Only the ones that aren’t poisonous. I’m just so glad you found me.”

He smiled before leaning forward to kiss you again, once on the lips, and several times on each cheek before you broke out into a giggle, tickled from the whiskers of his stubble. “Oh, hey, that tickles.”

“Mm,” he hummed against your cheek. “You like it, bunny… Hey, you must be hungry, huh? Let’s get some food in you.”

He didn’t leave room for argument as he carefully lifted you up by your arms, mindful of your injury. He shouldered your arm and helped you down the steps of the trailer, and immediately you felt more pairs of eyes on you than you had in what seemed like ages.

Daryl’s group was huddled around the fire, their voices dying down as they focused on you. They seemed dumbfounded, chewing on their squirrel while their eyes watched Daryl carefully lead you to the fire. In all honesty, he would’ve preferred to carry you, but he was already sure the group was questioning his “toughness.”

He sat you down on a folding chair, and moved frantically to find you a blanket, turning himself around and looking in every direction. “Anyone got a blanket?” he asked. 

“I-it’s fine, Daryl,” you laughed nervously. “I’m fine… Sit down.”

He huffed and sat himself down, leaning forward to serve you a bowl of soup. “Thank you,” you said, trying to ignore the stares you were still getting. 

“How are you?” Glenn asked, breaking the awkward silence meandering around the campfire. 

He was a stranger to you, as they all were except Daryl, but you answered nonetheless. “I’m okay,” you said. “I don’t think I’m gonna lose my foot, so that’s good.”

You laughed nervously, though the others still seemed utterly flabbergasted by your very existence. 

“I’m (Y/N), by the way.”

Everyone introduced themselves eventually, after the initial shock of your waking state seemed to subside ever so slightly. Still, even after dinner, and when it was only you and Daryl left at that bonfire, you could feel the stares and hear the whispers of the others from afar, watching the two of you.

Daryl didn’t seem to care, or notice, as he found himself tending to your dressing, cleaning your wound once again before holding you tight, brushing through your hair with his gentle fingers.

The only side of Daryl that you knew was his soft side, his tenderness he displayed towards you. You knew he had a temper, that he could be volatile and emotional, but in a way, he was just as sensitive as you were, he just showed it differently. In fact, he tried not to show it at all most of the time, for fear of making himself vulnerable. It was only around you he could be fully himself, and that was brought out in how he cared for you, doted on you. 

Whatever side he’d displayed to these people in the last week must’ve been starkly different, and indeed it was.

“This is fascinating,” said Dale to Glenn, sitting atop the trailer and sneaking glances at the couple’s embrace beside the fire. 

“It’s super weird,” agreed Glenn. “Wish I had a girlfriend.”

Shane and T-Dog made their rounds, stopping in brief disbelief at the display before them. “What the hell is a woman like that doin’ with a dumb redneck like Daryl Dixon?” asked Shane.

“She doesn’t seem to think he’s a dumb redneck,” replied T-Dog. “Maybe he’s not such a dumb redneck after all… Dumb redneck couldn’t get himself a lady like that.”

Carol and Lori ushered the children into their respective tents, and both women stared in wonderment at first, and then in a strange kind of envy. Not of you being with Daryl, but of the way he held you, the way he whispered in your ear and brushed through your hair, the way he held your hand and kissed your palm before nuzzling his nose against yours… Yeah, they wanted love like that.

All in all, the camp was in a state of confusion as conceptions about the younger Dixon brother seemed to be changing, all because one woman had come back into his life. Though for him, you’d never left. 

“Why’s everyone staring at me?” you asked, absentmindedly trailing your fingers along the collar of his shirt, dipping down every once in a while to feel his sparse chest hairs. “Ever since I came out here they look like they’ve never seen another human being before.”

He looked around, immediately catching the eye of Dale and Glenn, who quickly averted their gaze, terrified of the abrasive man. He narrowed his eyes at them and protectively pulled you closer before kissing your forehead, almost in a subconscious display of marking his territory. 

“Probably ‘cause you’re so beautiful,” he said, causing you to roll your eyes. “Guess I gotta watch my back… Make sure no one tries to steal ya from me.”

“I highly doubt anyone wants to steal me from you, Daryl,” you said. “Even if they did, there’s no way I’d ever leave you.”

“Mm,” he hummed, rubbing your back in appreciation for your words. “Good.”

Silence settled in comfortably before you spoke again, not convinced the camp was simply taken by your beauty. 

“I think they can’t believe I’m your girlfriend,” you said. “They’re surprised… You didn’t tell them about me?”

He swallowed hard, afraid you would be upset with him for failing to mention you. “Guess it just never came up,” he said. “‘Sides… Didn’t need them knowin’ I got a soft spot for ya.”

You raised an eyebrow as you giggled at his words. “Oh, well, I think they know now, pumpkin.”

Whatever effect you had on Daryl, it changed him for the better. At least, he thought so, and as soon as your leg healed, the others thought so, too. Maybe Merle was right—maybe you made him soft, but he didn’t care. In a world where softness was hard to come by, where the only beautiful thing left was you, he didn’t mind if he was just a little soft.

Well, just in one little spot.

~

Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments of any kind are always appreciated!

Masterlist Part 2

Locked in with Daryl Dixon

Daryl Dixon x Fem!reader

Warnings: smut, mutual hand jobs

Word count: 1.2k

Requested by anon

~~

Daryl motions for you to get in the boot, you clamber inside, quickly followed by him who ties the trunk shut with a bloodied rag. The growl and shuffle of walkers gets louder, the car rocking as they bumped into it. They banged on the trunk door, smelling the sweat on you both.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, hoping the rag would be enough to keep you both safe. The trunk was getting increasingly humid, sweat dripped down your back and into your eyes. You tried several times to wipe it away to no avail.

Eventually you were met with a storm, along with the noise of the dead, the sky crackled with thunder, the wind howling in the gaps around you. As if the night could get any worse.

On the bright side, you had Daryl with you who had shuffled back to give you more space in the cramped trunk. While you were grateful, also having claustrophobia, you also wished he’d hold you. You wished a lot of things but knew you wouldn’t get it. Being at least 10 years younger than the man, he probably saw you at best as a little sister. You sighed unintentionally, expressing your disdain for the whole situation.

“You all right?” Daryl’s rough voice came from behind you. You nodded, not trusting your voice. “You sure? You been breathing heavy for hours. You got asthma?” You shook your head.

“I’m fine.” You whispered, shakily, proving you were anything but.

One particular loud bang of a walker on the trunk made you jump and yelp. A warm, heavy hand squeezed your hip gently.

“Don’t worry. We’re safe enough.” His voice was a low rumble in his throat. The vibrations of his chest against your back sent coils of pleasure to your groin.

Another loud clap of thunder as the storm passed overhead made you jump again. You always hated sudden loud noise like that. Daryl’s hand snaked around your waist and pulled you in to his chest, his hand flat against your stomach. You became ultra aware of every part of your body that touched his, momentarily forgetting the storm and the walkers.

You froze for a moment, taken aback at his sudden touch. You had no idea how to approach this. You were sure, however, that this was merely a comforting gesture and not because he had feelings for you.

During the night, while you both lay there, huddled close, another, smaller wave of walkers pass, bumping into the car and startling you awake. For a moment you forgot where you were, feeling only the heat and the pressure of someone holding you. Panic rises in you before a hand gently squeezes your middle.

“Hey. It’s okay. It’s me.” A reassuring voice grumbled next to your ear. He sounded a little groggy too, like he’d been napping. Although you were sure he hadn’t, he was always too wired in situations like these.

You start to fidget and try to stretch your limbs and your back and accidentally press into Daryl’s crouch. His hand freezes on your middle.

“Don’t wiggle so much.” His face, his voice, buried in your hair, almost growls and that’s when you feel a new pressure press against your ass.

“Oh.” You whisper and his hand moves over your hip and to hold you there, squeezing gently. A soft grunt escapes him and you decide to test him, pushing your ass back into his crotch again.

“Stop. Please.” His voice comes out strained. Was he really turned on by you? You do it again, wiggling a bit for emphasis. His hand swings around your middle again and he pulls you tight into him, pushing down on your hips so his erection was right against you. You can’t help but moan, soft and breathy. His hand lets go and moves over your thigh, up over your hip, over your arm and back down again leaving your skin feeling electric.

At some point the storm outside passed and the walkers became fewer. Daryl decides to slip a hand under your shirt to massage a breast. You moan and your head falls back a little, enjoying the feel of his large, warm, calloused hand on you.

“You like when I do this?” Daryl’s ragged voice broke the silence. You nod and decide you really wanted to touch him too. Slipping a hand behind you and over his crotch you cup his erection through his jeans. He lets out a grunt and his dick pulses against your hand.

“You’re being so unfair, Daryl.” You whimper, massaging his erection.

“Says you with ya hand on ma dick.” He grunted, effectively humping your hand. “I know I’m being selfish, but you’re enjoying it. So who’s the real winner, here?” He pressed his face in your neck and nuzzled, kissing gently.

Without a word Daryl moved his hand from your shirt and glided it down your body to the buckle of your jeans, here he gently, quietly undid them and slipped a hand in. His fingers found your clit and circled gently. You moaned and grinded back on him, craving more.

“Easy girl, you’re rocking the car.” He murmured into your ear, his breath sending shivers over your skin. You whimpered as his hand sped up, two delightful fingers sending waves of pleasure through you. It wasn’t enough.

You move your hand from outside his jeans and clumsily try to put your hand inside, wrapping a hand around his veiny, throbbing, raging hard cock.

“Fuck.” You gasp, as he thrust into your hand. You were both so desperate for each other, needy, horny as hell but neither of you moved much, neither of you dared turn or shuffle out of clothes in case you brought attention to the car.

“If I keep doing this, reckon you’ll cum on my hand, princess?” He growled, his voice low and hungry. Wetness pooled and the sound of his fingers working on you made it loud in the trunk. “You’re so wet, does my voice turn you on?”

You nod. Your other hand reaches and presses his onto you, increasing the pressure and building up the orgasm, ready for release. Daryl circles his fingers faster and a loud moan escapes you.

“That’s it. Come on.” He urges, thrusting more into your hand. You gasp, gripping his dick as your orgasm comes to the surface, letting out a grunt of pleasure. “Good girl.” He grunts, breathless, as his cock throbs hard before a hot liquid pumps over your hand. He whimpers as his dick becomes sensitive, getting every drop of his cum out onto you.

“Fuck.” He whispers, breathless. He moves his hand from your clit and hugs you around your waist, making sure you stay as close as possible to him.

A couple of moments pass in near silence, both of you spent. You take your cum-covered hand out of his pants, wiping on a rag in the car, smiling at the fact any of it even happened.

“Hey.” You whisper, nudging Daryl gently. “It’s quiet outside. We can leave.” You untie the rag and both of you climb out, buttoning your jeans back up.

Daryl looks up at you and smiles cheekily like he’s just got away with stealing candy.

Can you write daryl smut where the reader likes daryl but she thinks he didn't like her because there's an age gap and he's always quiet around her? Then one day she catches him touching himself while saying her name so she confesses her feelings and at first he's embarrassed/shy but the reader asks what he was thinking about and she does whatever he tells her to do.

Hi Anon!

Thanks for your request! Sorry if it took me so long!

I hope you'll like it!

Enjoy!!

Thinking about you.

Daryl Dixon (45) FemReader (25)

Anon Request.

Warnings: Smut. Handjob. Blowjob. Unprotected sex (don't do that).

Words: 3600

Taglist: @phoenixblack89 @browneyes528 @pncnsc @lilythemadqueen @darylsgarden @ruinedbythehobbit @srhxpci @xxtinasxxblog

You aren't sure why he hates you that much. You aren't sure what did you do. You try to think about something but your mind is blank.

You love Daryl.

Yeah maybe the word is too strong but is what you feel when you're around him. You feel yourself protected, safe, good. And all those feelings have been growing with the time you've spent together. Well not just with him, the group in general, but you know that what you feel for him is not a simple friendship.

You first met at the prison, you were part of Sasha and Tyreese's group and although you were initially welcomed, you stayed, Woodbury sounded ominous when Michonne showed up talking about the Governor. At first Daryl didn't trust, just like the others, as the days went by he seemed more comfortable, but you were also aware that he wouldn't let you make too much of an effort. Back then you were younger and 'frailer' than you are now, you were scared to death, you didn't know how to fight, you barely had the strength to help keep the prison fence up when the beams that held it up had to be repositioned, but you wanted to help, you always tried to be useful, even though you always ended up in your cell, with Beth, taking care of Judith.

"Go back inside." Daryl said to you one day taking some huge logs from your hands that you had managed to grab to help Rick build his farm. "They need ya more there, fix somethin' to eat, help Beth with the baby, keep an eye on Carl. Ya ain't helping us here."

This maybe have been the longest conversation you had with Daryl and it hurt. It hurt because you were trying to change and his cold, curt tone shattered your hopes. Since then you tried to stay away, alert, but distant, unfortunately his way of treating you didn't change your feelings for him. They grew stronger when the flu attacked you inside the prison and he took care of you.

"Ya can't die here." He told you by leaving you a bowl of soup in your cell, his mouth covered with a handkerchief so he wouldn't catch it.

You're not sure if he said it because he thought you wouldn't hear him because of your condition or that you would end up forgetting it, as an unimportant anecdote. When the prison fell and you were all separated for a moment you thought you would never see him or any of your companions again. You cried for days, heartbroken, until you were reunited again in Terminus, Carol had saved you and when you saw him embrace your companion like that, the pieces of your heart were not completely healed.

Now you live safely in Alexandria, you have settled in the community after Deanna has assessed whether or not you are useful to them that you can stay. Some of you have settled in well there, giving thanks for recovering some things lost from the previous world. Like hot water. But others are having a hard time accepting that this place is good, that you are safe.

Daryl is one of them.

He's constantly coming and going, he's still out hunting, he's still out exploring, he's still Rick's watchdog, and he doesn't trust the people in the community. If there was distance between you before, now a chasm has been created that you are sure you will never be able to cross.

You sigh long, tired, sorry. Carl looks at you curiously, the two of you on the porch of one of the houses the community has assigned you. You're taking care of Judith, that role hasn't changed much since you left the prison, only Beth is no longer with you to help you. Sometimes you miss her. You were good friends and her death was unjust. You know Daryl suffered a lot because of it too and sometimes you think he was in love with her, and that's why he stays away from you, because he doesn't want anything more to do with girls. Daryl needs a strong, determined woman, capable of protecting her own.

"You're more pensive than usual today." Carl's voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you smile sadly.

"Sorry, I'm having a weird day today..." You mutter looking at him out of the corner of your eye, playing with Judith who is amusing herself with your hands.

"Is it because Daryl isn't back yet?" he asks you and you feel your cheeks take on a rosy hue. "He's been on patrol for several days, but he'll be back. You know how he is."

"Y-yeah, I'm not worried, I don't..."

"I thought you liked him and were worried because he's not back yet." He says again and you look at him with wide eyes. You're thankful Judith is sitting on your lap or she would have fallen out of your arms.

"I-I didn't... Who told you that?"

"Carol, but I already knew that, you're always looking at him or asking about him." He says as if it's obvious and you want the ground swallow you up.

"Oh God, is it that obvious?" you groan low dead embarrassed.

"I don't know, I told my dad and he hadn't noticed, but Michonne said she already knew...so I guess it depends..."

You cover your face feeling it burns and Judith laughs clapping her hands, thinking you're playing with her.

"Do you think Daryl knows? God if he didn't hate me already..."

"Daryl? I don't think he hates you..." Carl lets out a chuckle and you look at him confused.

"What?"

"Nothing, I'm just saying what I see."

"Yeah, well I'm telling you he hates me, he doesn't look at me, he barely talks to me, and if he does it's to growl at me or tell me I've done something wrong. He's never treated me like..." You shut up because you feel a strange little ball of jealousy towards Carol forming in your stomach and you don't want it, you don't need it. She's your friend, your partner, almost like a mother.

"Trust me, if he didn't like you, you'd know it. Daryl doesn't know how to dissemble, he may be quiet and cold, but it's not because of you. At least not because of what you think."

The day passes quickly, you get home at night exhausted from the day, you may not go out on patrol like the rest, but you also have your own obligations within the community, watching and taking care of the children, as well as helping Denise in the infirmary. You open the door seeing it totally dark, there is no one there, or are with the changing of the guard or even some already sleeping. Sometimes it still feels strange to sleep in a bed, but today you really need one.

You are climbing the stairs, taking a shower and getting into bed, when you hear a groan that makes you stop in your tracks. You shiver keeping your wits about you, you doubt very much that it could be a threat, the community is well protected, the dead can't enter there undetected. You continue climbing and the new moan, or rather gasp, is accompanied by a stifled curse and you curse mentally, sure it is Rosita and Abraham. You try to ignore it, hurry down the hallway, get into your room and try to sleep, however when you pass the room the couple share, the door is open, they aren't there. You frown in confusion and another gasp reaches your ears. You open your eyes wide as you realize they are coming from Daryl's room.

Your cheeks burn suddenly, surprised and nervous, you want to get closer, you want to know if it's what you really think, maybe he's busy, maybe he's with some woman... Carol. A twinge in your chest makes you hesitate for a second, but your feet keep moving towards the hunter's door. Your hand brushes against the door and you block when you hear him speak again. Whimpering a name.

Your name.

You half open the door, Daryl is oblivious to your presence, sitting on the bed, his back against the wall, his head thrown back enjoying himself. Your body trembles, your legs clench and your panties soak as your gaze roams over his naked torso and how his hand moves urgently over his cock which is raised and hard, quivering each time his fist tightens over the tip of his length, his other hand squeezes and massages his balls ripping a new grunt from him.

"Fuck..."

Goosebumps rise on your skin as you hear your name again. Your heart races. You want to know what he's thinking. You want to know what he's imagining. Unable to control yourself any longer, you enter the room fully and Daryl finally senses your presence. His eyes widen, his hand releases his obvious erection, though it now loses some intensity as he discovers you there, he quickly tries to cover himself with a pillow as you advance towards him.

"What yer doin' 'ere?" asks Daryl in a nervous voice.

"Are you touching yourself thinking about me?" you reply, you know the answer is yes, but watching him swallow saliva several times you know it's not the first time. "Why?" you see him frown, lick his lips and look down, totally embarrassed and possibly humiliated. He's misunderstanding your question. You don't care on the contrary.

"S-Sorry, I didn't think anyone was..." Daryl stammers.

"You misunderstood me, why would you do that having me for real?" you ask again and his head jerks up in a hurry. "Is that why you avoid me all the time, you like me? At least you're physically attracted to me?"

It's too many awkward questions that you know Daryl is going to be unable to answer, if you weren't in his room, if you weren't cutting him off and he had his pants on, he would have possibly run away by now. He opens his mouth several times to respond, but falls silent, licks his lips, looks at you and looks away again, the light in his room is very soft, barely a candle, but you are sure that his face is red with embarrassment. You advance the few steps that separate you your leg brushes his and he jumps into his own skin when your fingers caress his thigh, leaning forward to look at him more intensely, biting your lip, wanting to hear his response.

"I always thought you hated me, you know? always avoiding me, growling and well sometimes you haven't been very nice either..."

"I'm sorry..." He says again pressing the pillow against his crotch.

"That's why this surprises me, but I'm glad... I'm glad to know that at least I'm not the only one who feels something." You smile again, her eyes grow much wider and you laugh softly, now it's your face that's red. "You don't look at me like that, I'm sure you knew that..."

He says nothing, but his silence is enough for you.

"What were you imagining?" you say to him again. "What would you like to do with me, Daryl?" your voice sounds insinuating, your pupils dilate a little and you bite your lip again. "What would you like me to do for you?"

He can't answer, his words get stuck in his throat, but you get excited every time his eyes roam over your body. Clearly there are many ideas in his mind, but he is unable to express them out loud. Without waiting for him to say anything, you get rid of your shirt, remaining in your bra in front of him. His breathing becomes heavier and you see him licking his lips.

"Ya ain't gotta... ya ain't gotta do this if ya ain't..."

"Daryl, I've been feeling this for you for many years, I'm not feeling obligated to anything, on the contrary, I want the two of us to be honest with each other. If this is what we desire..." You kneel on the mattress beside him, his gaze follows your every move and he does nothing when you pull the pillow away from his crotch to look at him again. His erection has clearly declined, but his size gets you soaking your panties again. "Tell me what you want me to do, Daryl..." You stare at him and he finally seems to react, his pupils dilate, his eyes take on a dark hue and you hear him grunt.

You rest a hand on his chest and lean into him to kiss him. You've barely brushed his lips when his hand clings to the back of your neck and his mouth catches you. His fingers tangle in your hair preventing you from being able to pull away, the kiss grows more intense and Daryl sits up a little on the bed taking control. You gasp against his mouth, his tongue bursts inside, the two of you entangle and he holds you by the waist to sit on his lap. You move your hips, your ass rubbing his cock that hardens again with each rub. You pull away from his mouth and bite down on his chin staring up at him.

"Tell me, Daryl... what were you thinking?"

"Yer mouth..." He whispers still embarrassed, but he's horny too, he's been about to cum just as you've entered his room and now his cock is screaming for attention again.

"My mouth? Do you want me to suck your cock?" you smile as he nods and you let him lie back as you slide down his body.

Slowly, you kiss his neck, his torso, run your fingers and lips over his scars, feel him tense as you bite the skin near his navel and smile in amusement. You circle his cock in your hand slowly caressing its size, watching, biting your lip, how it acquires all its hardness against the palm of your hand, slightly curved, thick tip that begins to leak a trickle of precum. Your tongue brushes against his glans and you hear him sigh, you look up, but don't stop, your lips tighten around his tip, you suck and lick slowly, like candy, Daryl stirs under your body, his hand strokes your hair, you run along its length, as much as you are able to take inside your mouth, you suck and lick, up and down, slowly, taking a comfortable rhythm, holding the gag reflex, your tongue runs all over him, a wet smutty sound with each movement makes Daryl's hair stand on end and his fingers twitch above your head. You feel a small tug on your hair and you stop slowly thinking Daryl wants you to stop, but instead his hips move upward, thrusting against your mouth.

You don't stop him, you relax and still tightening your lips around his cock you let him move his hips up and down, thrusting deep in your throat listening to him gasp and mumble incoherent things, you would love to be able to get inside his mind and find out what he is thinking.

"Fuck... I'm gonna cum..." He assures you and his hips jerk a little roughly in your mouth.

You stifle a gag, but let him release, he moves faster inside your mouth, you feel the tip of his cock slide deeper, and you close your eyes as he spills into your mouth hearing him snort moving his hips slower, you swallow his cum, run your tongue down his length to the tip and suck one last time before pulling away completely and looking up at him with a mischievous grin. Daryl joins in too, he seems more confident now, he holds your cheeks kissing you intensely but calmly, you open your mouth and brush your tongue over his, giving him a taste of himself. Daryl pulls away, his fingers playing and stroking the strands of your hair as he stares at you and bites his lower lip. You smile and kiss him again giving him cause to relax with you.

"I'm here for you, Daryl...you can do with me whatever you want."

"That...could be anything..." He murmurs without taking his eyes off you.

"I trust you, Daryl." You tell him without looking away either.

"Why? I've never treated ya right, I've always been rough with ya... tryin' to get ya away from me, because when ya were around..." He chews his lip several times.

"What was wrong when I was around, Daryl?" You move a little closer, brushing his lips with yours.

"That I can't control myself, and yer so young..."

"That doesn't matter, Daryl, it never has mattered, it doesn't matter to me... Why should it matter to you?"

He closes his eyes for a second, thinking about it, your words echoing in his ears giving him a chance to hold on to. He growls lightly and kisses you again, intense, eagerly, he lays your body down on his bed and his hands undo the button of your pants slowly pulling it down your legs, undressing you completely. You sigh as you find yourself totally exposed to him, you smile shyly, but at the same time you are eager for him to continue. You feel his lips on your knee and he settles between your legs, his mouth runs over your skin from your stomach to your nipples, he licks and grazes one of them with the tip of his tongue before catching it between his lips and sucking harder drawing a moan of pleasure from you.

"Y'know what... I love when I see ya in yer yellow dress." He whispers suddenly and you look at him in surprise. "Ya always wear it without a bra, no one notices, but sometimes, when yer happy or excited, yer nipples get hard and mark on the fabric." His voice sounds like a husky purr against your ear and your skin crawls, you feel your wetness rise and you try to squeeze your legs together, but Daryl's body between them stops you. "I've always wanted to know what yer skin tasted like, what it smelled like, what it would feel like in my mouth..." He kisses you again before moving down your neck, his mouth lingering on your nipples again, licking your skin until they're completely hard.

You inhale deeply throwing your head back, you bite your lip and moan when he sinks his head between your legs licking your pussy, sucking your clit, he runs his tongue along your folds, with the tip he pushes inside you, tasting your insides, you moan and spread your legs further apart enjoying the pleasure he is giving you. Daryl focuses his mouth on your clit, licking and torturing your sensitive nub as two of his fingers work their way inside your cunt. You wiggle your hips against his fingers and bite your lip controlling your moans. Your fingers tangle in his hair each time his tongue and fingers move in your pussy putting you on edge, crawling into that wave of pleasure that explodes all over your body, you pull on his hair and tighten your legs around his head. You feel Daryl purr again against your folds tasting you again before he slowly joins in kissing your body, moving up to your mouth to kiss you. You wrap your arms around his neck to hold him against you, both of you kissing with desire, with need, your bodies rubbing together and you moan as you feel his cock hard again, leaving a wet trickle against your skin.

"Daryl, I need you..."

"C'me 're." He grunts and rolls with you, putting you on top of him. "Ride me, show me how ya enjoy my cock, I wanna see yer tits bouncing." Daryl indulges in his own fantasies and his mouth gets a little dirty, but you don't mind, on the contrary, your pussy contracts and you get wetter if possible.

On top of him you position yourself nicely, rubbing your pussy against his cock, moving your hips without taking your eyes off him, just groping him. You lift your hips, Daryl holds the base of his cock as you carefully sit down on it, feeling his pressure on your core, pushing his way in, your walls receive him by tightening around him and you both moan at the same time as his entire length is wedged inside you. Your body trembles, your skin goes goosebumps, your fingers caress his chest and abdomen, you can feel his fingers closing over your hips, his hands caress your skin, your ass, your lower back, they go up to your tits and he squeezes them between his fingers. You moan and move your hips slowly over him, watching his reaction, realizing his fantasy.

"Fuck... so tight... so good, girl..." He mumbles grapping your tits again.

Slowly you increase the speed on him, Daryl stays mesmerized with the movement of your tits every time you bounce on him, however he feels he is not going to hold on much longer so he holds your hips and starts to thrust under you, your bodies meet, his cock pushes deeper, you throw your head back and moan he hits that perfect spot that makes you shudder.

"I'm gonna cum..." He warns you but neither of you stop.

Daryl joins in hugging you, moving you faster, trapping his cock inside you. You both let go almost at the same time, your body trembling against his, Daryl rests his forehead on your shoulder as he empties himself inside you.

Panting, trying to catch your breath, the two of you remain in each other's arms. You wrap your arms around his shoulders as before and lazily stroke his hair, hear him humming with your caresses, kiss his shoulder and neck, his hands caress your lower back.

"Yer okay?" asks Daryl in a breathy whisper.

"Better than ever." You laugh softly and pull away a little to look at him. "I don't know if this will be just a one night stand, but... I want you to stop ignoring me, to consider me a friend... please." You ask and see him look at you with intensity before shaking his head.

"It ain't just one night... Now that I have ya... I'm ain't gonna let you go." He confesses and a shy smile forms on his mouth. You feel your eyes water, excited and you kiss him.

"I love you..." You whisper against his mouth and his hands tighten in your embrace.

"Me too, girl..."

The End.

I hope you liked it!! Finally it had more fluff than I pretended at first 🤣

See you in the next stories!!

reflection.

daryl dixon x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw, pwp (porn without plot/plot what plot), rough sex, hair pulling, swearing, slight choking, praising, unprotected p-in-v, daddy kink, spanking, creampie

summary: daryl overhears you talking down on yourself in front a mirror and decides to teach you a lesson.

wc: 764

daryl grabs a fistful of your hair, tugging your face upwards until your eyes lock onto the reflection of both of you in the mirror. your hair is all messy and disheveled, your makeup all smudged, and dizziness clouds your vision. your mind strains to grasp simple things, such as daryl's gruff voice near your ear, as he instructs: "now, say it." you instantly becomes flustered, unconsciously attempting to hide your face in embarrasement but being stopped by daryl wrapping his arm around your neck, keeping your head still and forcing you to stare at yourself in the mirror.

you open your mouth as if you aim to say something, but nothing comes out of it. the intense pleasure and pain from the relentless pouding of daryl's hips against your own is everything you're able to acknowledge right now, while you literally drool onto his arm. daryl can't hide a smirk, proud to be the one making you so obviously cock-drunk. even so, he insists, his voice a low whisper: "ya betta say it before i make ya regret disobeying me."

a shiver runs down your spine. then, you force your brain to think. you'd never forgive yourself if you disappointed him and you know damn well how you got yourself into this situation. early on today, daryl had overheard you talking down on yourself and your looks in front of this same mirror he's rearranging your guts right now, and he could never let something like that slide. you knew exactly what you had to say.

"-m pwetty..." you mumble, almost inaudible, your eyes threatening to close. you feel daryl lean in, his warm breath against your ear.

"nuh-uh. look at yerself, look how pretty ya look takin' ma cock. c'mon, sunshine, let daddy hear ya." he demands, leaving no room for backtalk. you shudder under his touch, not daring to defy him:

"i-i'm pretty..." you repeat a little more clearer this time, making sure to be staring at yourself in the mirror as you say it. your face gets all red and you trap your bottom lip between your teeth, the slight pressure of daryl's arm around your neck making your head even more empty.

"good fuckin' girl." he praises, placing a gentle kiss to the side of your head before fastening his thrusts, his hips stuttering a little. he finally lets go of your hair to land a harsh smack to your ass, making you gasp in surprise. he firmly grasps your ass, his fingernails digging into your skin as he starts kissing and licking your neck. he's getting extra touchy now, which always means that he's on the edge of cumming. he lands another sharp slap to your ass before moving his hand to grab your waist forcefully, extracting pathetic squeaky sounds from you.

his breathing becomes labored and heavy and he guides a hand to your clit, rubbing tight, fast circles on it, aiming to initiate your own orgasm. he doesn't fail as you feel that familiar knot forming in your lower belly. your legs start to shake and you struggle to keep yourself on your feet. almost as the same time as your high hits you, daryl lets out a guttural moan before your tight velvety walls send him over the edge, making him shoot his load deep inside you. he stops his thrusting, now he sort of humps your insides while he releases spurt after spurt of thick cum inside your cunt.

you both stay in that position for a while, trying to catch your breaths. daryl chuckles a little, causing you to smile alongside him. he places a few kisses to your shoulders before removing his cock from you, leaving you with an empty sensation. he observes as his abundant cum oozes out of your hole, dripping down your legs. then, he lifts his head, eyeing your reflexion on the mirror and resting his chin on your shoulder:

"nobody ever has to right to talk down on ya, princess. not even yerself. so next time ya try to ignore how pretty ya actually are, ya betta be sure 'm not 'round to hear." despite his gruffy tone, you can't help but melt in his arms, his unconditional love almost palpable. you close your eyes for a moment, but you're able to feel his face contorting into a smile. "i love ya, sunshine."

a/n: this is my first time ever attempting to write anything longer than one paragraph lol (and it still came out so short) so lmk if this sucks ass. btw english is not my first language so there might be a little misspelling or weird phrasing here and there lol

No because imagine cuddling with Daryl 🥺

I genuinely feel like it would be so peaceful. I can just imagine how warm it would be to lay on his chest and have his arm around you. And it’s early in the morning. Maybe you’ve accidentally woken up to early from the sound of the birds. Maybe it’s 5 or 6 AM. And it’s a little bit cold and chilly in the air, and everything is still dark. The world seems to be at rest. There’s no bustling or threat. For a moment you feel permanent and grounded. And as you’re taking in the moment you feel how close you are to him. You’d have never thought that you’d ever be this close to someone who seemed so emotionally shielded. And yet the two of you are wrapped under the blankets together, warm and comfortable. There’s a silence that blooms so gently. You listen to his breathing, watch the rise and fall of his chest. I think he lets out the tiniest of snores. And your heart warms. He’s finally getting the rest he deserves. He’s sleeping and you feel so proud that he’s with you. He looks so genuinely tucked into bed with you by his side. You love his warmth and his weight. Soon enough you’re drifting back into sleep. You shuffle impossibly closer to him and he unconsciously pulls you closer. Closer. You fit perfectly together. Time has stopped and the two of you are safe.

I feel like Daryl would be so much more affectionate when he's asleep ♡

Because he's already way more touchy in private than he is in public, but when he's sleeping? There's absolutely no way you're getting away!

It always starts out with you using his spread out arm as a pillow, and him slowly bringing your head to his torso, either stroking your hair or giving kisses to your forehead. And usually, after a long day of surviving flesh eating monsters, the feeling of his heartbeat against you, and his calm breathing would be able to lull you to sleep within a few minutes.

And once he's sure you're asleep, he will never let you go. He makes sure you're all covered by the blanket, he slowly makes you cover him a little more, he might even hum slowly on the nights you're really, really tired. At first, he tried to stay awake for as long as he could, enjoying your presence, but now, you make him so peaceful he cannot hold on for this long. For a man as anxious as Daryl, you're the closest thing to a weighted blanket, and he is so reassured by your presence <3

Title:A Fight For Survival

--

In the desolate wasteland, the abandoned warehouse stood as a grim reminder of the world’s collapse. Its skeletal remains were dimly lit by the weak light seeping through broken windows. The oppressive silence was occasionally broken by distant groans and the shuffle of the undead, signaling the encroaching danger.

Daryl Dixon was slumped against a rusted metal pillar, his face a mask of pain. A severe wound along his side had him barely able to move, his bow resting uselessly on the floor beside him. His breath came in labored gasps as he tried to stay alert despite his injuries. The warehouse had become a trap, overrun by walkers, their guttural growls growing louder with each passing moment.

You, a skilled survivor and his steadfast companion, had been through countless perils together. This time, however, the stakes were higher. Daryl’s injury left him vulnerable, and the threat was imminent. You were determined to protect him. With a deep breath, you readied yourself, gripping a makeshift weapon—a metal shard attached to a sturdy stick.

The first walkers appeared, their groans filling the space with a chilling certainty. Without hesitation, you sprang into action. The clash was immediate and fierce. Each movement was a blend of desperation and precision, your weapon cutting through the encroaching threat. The walkers’ unnatural, jerky motions made them unpredictable, and every successful strike was met with the unsettling sounds of crumbling flesh and bone.

Daryl’s eyes, usually so steely, now held a mix of fear and frustration. He tried to rise, but pain kept him grounded. “Leave,” he rasped, his voice barely audible over the chaos. “Save yourself.” But you weren’t about to abandon him. You pushed through the throng of walkers, defending him with every ounce of strength you had.

Amid the battle, you carved out a temporary safe zone. The weight of your task was immense, each decision a matter of life or death. The relentless walkers seemed to multiply, their numbers overwhelming. Your focus was laser-sharp, every swing of your weapon purposeful and driven by the need to keep Daryl safe.

Slowly, the tide of battle began to shift. The walkers' numbers dwindled, their advance slowing as their bodies accumulated on the floor. You could feel your strength waning, but the sight of fewer walkers gave you renewed energy. With the immediate threat reduced, you hurried back to Daryl’s side.

You knelt beside him, breathless and worn. “We need to get you patched up,” you said, your voice shaky but determined. Daryl looked at you with a mix of gratitude and relief. The battle had forged an unspoken bond between you, a testament to the trust and reliance that had deepened over time.

Carefully, you assisted Daryl to his feet, guiding him through the wreckage of the warehouse. Exhaustion was evident in every step, but the silent understanding between you made the journey bearable. As you reached a safer corner, the immediate danger had passed, leaving a heavy but welcome silence.

In that moment of quiet, the severity of your situation and the strength of your connection became clear. The world outside remained perilous, but together, you had faced another deadly challenge and emerged stronger for it.

Request if you want something different 😊

getting into a fandom and reading all the top fics >>>>>

going through an amazing author’s masterlist (again and again) >>>

smut is great but do you know what’s better? heart wrenching, soul twisting angst that makes you want to cry (take my money)

seeing your own post in top fics is literally WHIPLASH… what do you mean people like what i’ve posted?? they’ve shared it?? blasphemy!!

you did not kudos? you left the fic without a reblog? oh! oh! jail for reader! jail for reader for One Thousand Years!

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Beginning at the quarry and heavily following the series

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore, canonical character death, poorly written smut, masturbation, allusions to abortion, medical blood draw, vomiting, allusions to suicide, minor canonical character death, child injury, pregnancy complications [Will update warnings as we go]

A/N: The series will heavily follow the timeline and events of the show but there will be additional non-canonical events/injuries/etc.

*Click here to be added to taglists.

Chapter Moodboards by @dannyo000: Pg 1, Pg 2

Summary: Daryl met you while hunting to feed the group he saddled himself with at the quarry. It was just sex, no strings attached. Until it wasn’t. Strangers to friends to lovers. A bit of slow burn and angst.

•Chapter 1

•Chapter 2

•Chapter 3

•Chapter 4

•Chapter 5

•Chapter 6

•Chapter 7

•Chapter 8

•Chapter 9

•Chapter 10

•Chapter 11

•Chapter 12

•Chapter 13

•Chapter 14

•Chapter 15……in progress

Gorgeous moodboard by the amazing @dustbunniess ❤️

Tomorrow’s promise

Pairing: Shane Walsh x reader, Daryl Dixon x reader, Rick Grimes x sister reader

Warnings: character deaths, blood & gore, explicit language, mentions of abuse and SA, sexual content

Tomorrow’ promise edits A different tomorrow

S1/2

1.01 1.02 1.03 2.01 2.02 2.03 2.04 2.05 2.06 2.07 2.08 2.09 2.10 2.11 2.12

S3

3.01 3.02 3.03 3.04 3.05 3.06

Having a comfort fic but also has the most gut wrenching angst to it as well is perfection

Hi there 👋,

My name is Mohammad, and I’m reaching out in a moment of desperate need. I’m a father of three young children living in Gaza, and we are caught in the midst of a catastrophic war. Our home is no longer a safe haven, and the future here seems increasingly uncertain. 💔

I’ve launched a fundraising campaign with the goal of raising $40,000 to relocate my family to a safer place where my children can grow up in peace and have a chance at a brighter future. 🕊️🇵🇸

Unfortunately, my previous fundraising efforts were abruptly halted when my account was terminated without explanation. However, I remain determined to keep fighting for my family’s safety and well-being. 🫶

If you could take a moment to read our story, consider donating, or simply share our campaign with others, it would make an incredible difference. Every act of kindness, no matter how small, brings us one step closer to safety and a new beginning. 🙏

Thank you for your time, compassion, and support. ❤

https://gofund.me/fd1faea2 🔗

if everyone could donate what they can it would be amazing ❤️

Rick: Gave Y/N a tree branch

Daryl: Why?

Rick: They said you took away their knives

Daryl: Cuz they keep tryin’ to kill Negan

Rick: Well shit

—

Y/N: *smacking a curled up Negan with a tree branch*

Negan: CAN YOU FUCKIN’ STOP

Is it just me or everyone imagine their fav characters that they are obsessing over in real life???

Like I'll be at work and then I imagine that bitch sitting next to me, talking to me and admiring me while I FUCKING KNOW THAT I HAVENT KISSED A MALE SPECIES IN MY ENTIRE LIFE

I don't know if that's sign of a fucking mental problem or what but I swear if I'm even Slightly upset or tired of my life i WILL open tumblr and start imagining them or talking to them (aka my wall. It be sitting there like the fuck gurl im not your man)