Daryl Imagines - Tumblr Posts

TW: injury, implied trauma and abuse

Daryl had felt drawn to you, intensely connected, since almost the exact moment he first laid eyes on you. You were trembling as you huddled in the corner of a store he’d been searching for supplies with Glenn and Maggie. Your eyes were wide and fearful, your posture diminished and slumped. You were filthy and so weak from lack of proper food and water that you managed to be alert only from the adrenaline flooding your veins as the strangers approached. It took Daryl another moment to realize that there was a handcuff on your wrist so tightly that it had cut into your skin and the other end was connected to a water pipe protruding from the wall. He hastily cast aside his gear and approached you slowly with palms out. Your striking eyes watched him with suspicion and mistrust, a way of viewing strangers that was clearly justified. You were afraid of his motorcycle and the ground speeding below it as you rode behind him back to the prison, but you trusted this man who had just saved you, who broken you free from your bondage and wrapped your injury with a red cloth. He spoke and moved with a gentleness contrary to his appearance at first glance. You could have ridden in the car with the couple, but you did not want to be separated from this man with the long wavy hair. Something about him was safe. Something about him felt like your future sprawling in front of you, as if you could see it in his blue eyes, the future you thought you’d never have. You clung tightly to him with arms looped around his middle in the same way you would cling tightly to your new life at the prison. As time passed, Daryl felt only that his attachment to you grew, like there was a woven steel string wrapped around his heart and linked to yours. You’d refused to inhabit victimhood, and moved through the world with a softness he yearned for. Now, as he watched you snuggling Judith from across the room, he wondered at the way you were quiet as the wind, but somehow still demanded attention like a storm, and his heart ached. Just then, you looked up and caught his eyes as he flushed, caught in the act of staring, but you only offered him a wide smile that stilled his heart. Prompt: “You are as quiet as the wind but demand attention like a storm.”

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……in progress

Gorgeous moodboard by the amazing @dustbunniess ❤️

The Spitting Image Series Masterlist

Summary: Years passed since last time you saw your ex-boyfriend and father of your son. Fate decided the perfect moment for you to reconnect was after the end of the world.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f! Reader

Warnings: swearing, violence, walkers, mentions of injuries, a little angsty. Minors do not interact. (If I forgot anything let me know)

A/N: It was supposed to be a one shot, but it was getting too big and I wasn’t in the middle of it, so I’ll make a mini series of it.

The reader’s son is 17 yo, so if you don’t feel comfortable reading something self insert having a kid this age, it’s up to you.

Here I’m supposing Daryl is in the beginning of his 40s when they get to Alexandria to make sense the age of his son.

Also, I have no idea how are the laws in the U.S.A. To register your children, so if it’s not possible to register a kid with the name of the father without the father, let’s pretend in this universe it is.

Part One

Part Two (Coming soon)

The Spitting Image | Part 1

Summary: Years passed since last time you saw your ex-boyfriend and father of your son. Fate decided the perfect moment for you to reconnect was after the end of the world.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f! Reader

Warnings: swearing, threatening, someone is punched, mentions of violence, mentions of doing harm to children (none of the characters, it’s just a thought), walkers, mentions of injuries, a little angsty. Minors do not interact. (If I forgot anything let me know)

Word Count: 4,419

A/N: It was supposed to be a one shot, but it was getting too big and I wasn’t in the middle of it, so I’ll make a mini series of it.

The reader’s son is 17 yo, so if you don’t feel comfortable reading something self insert having a kid this age, it’s up to you.

Here I’m supposing Daryl is in the beginning of his 40s when they get to Alexandria to make sense the age of his son.

Also, I have no idea how are the laws in the U.S.A. To register your children, so if it’s not possible to register a kid with the name of the father without the father, let’s pretend in this universe it is.

It had been days that you were out there with Aaron and Eric, you had found a possible group to invite to Alexandria. While you and Aaron was observing them from afar in the road, Eric was in a nearby city waiting for you.

That group seemed like a good group, they took care of each other and shared. They also had a kid and a baby, it needed to mean something. As a mom, you could clearly identify with their struggles and want to protect every kid you came by, unless it was a psychopath kid that wanted to kill you and your son, then… you had no empathy.

United and righteous people were exactly the kind of people you needed for Alexandria. It seemed as they were hungry and thirsty you had some supplies you could give them to help. Hiding on the trees you could only observe them using binoculars as you needed to remain far from them because of safety. You had never zoomed to observe them this much before, but there was something intriguing you and you didn’t voice it to Aaron yet. He was one of your best friends back in Alexandria, but you had to make sure.

There were a guy, all wearing black. He had a sleeveless black shirt that showed his toned arms, he seemed to be tall and had really broad shoulders and a relatively long hair. He carried a crossbow, and even though he was as tired and week as everyone else, he tried to not let it show. You only knew a person like this, but it had been so long since you last saw him that you thought this was your mind playing games with you. You were so young back then, you changed so much… he probably did too, probably you even crossed paths before the world ended and you didn’t recognized each other. But you had to make sure it wasn’t him so just your mind would relax and you could control your anxiety.

That’s why you were zooming the binoculars to the maximum and focusing solely on him, expecting him to look to a side so you could clearly see his face. He did, and when he did your heart stopped for some milliseconds and you thought all the air was drawn from your lungs. “Holly shit!” Was the only thing you were able to say, so glad now you could openly curse, because there wasn’t any child around.

“What’s it?” Aaron asked curiously and you passed him the binoculars unable to say anything. He looked at it, zooming out and couldn’t see anything extraordinary. “I don’t see anything. What did you see?”

You rested your back on the trunk of the tree that you were both sitting on its branch. You tried to breath in and out, just like your therapist had recommended you when you started to treat you’re anxiety.

“Y/N, what happened?” Aaron asked again turning his attention to you and holding your hand, which you accepted gratefully.

“I… I think my ex is in this group.” Oh my God. You were freaking out! It wasn’t as if you had ended bad, well it depends on the point of view, but seeing him after all this years, after all that happened, after…

“You think?” Aaron asked one more time, if it was your ex why you sounded like you were not completely sure.

“Yes, it was a long time ago. We were barely adults, so we changed a lot, but I’m 98% sure the archer is him.” You said continuing your exercise and taking your canteen with shaking hands to drink some water.

“Oh… let me check him out and see if you have good taste in men.”

“Aaron!” You protested the most silently you could. “Well, you may surprise a little when you see him, he is…”

“… DJ’s father! Holly crap!” He looked at you as if he had seen a ghost as the man looked exactly like the teenager boy he knew back in Alexandria, of course the man was way older than the boy. “Do you have an uterus or a copy machine in your belly?”

“Ok, if even you can see it’s totally him.” You said and you didn’t know if you were relieved or anxious, probably both at the same time.

“Ok, so… is he a good person to take with us?” He had to ask, even though you were good friends, you never talked much about him, it seemed to hurt you a lot, so he never pushed.

“Yes, of course. Don’t think I’d have named my child after him if he wasn’t.” You answered. It wasn’t his fault or yours, you just had to blame people like your parents that thought they were better than everyone else. “It’s just that it has been so long after last time we saw each other, I’m just nervous to meet him again.”

You tried approaching them by letting water and food as a gift for them on the road, but they just rejected everything, they were suspicious, they probably went through a lot of shit. You don’t blame them, you’d react the same if it was you. A heavy storm caught you by surprise, you needed to find shelter and protect yourselves. Once you saw the group entered a barn, you decided to go back to your RV and wait the next day or the storm pass before approaching them more directly this time.

The next morning the weather had improved, so you left again to where they were. At distance you saw two women near to the location of the barn, you approached them and presented yourselves and minutes later both of you were on your knees, hands behind your heads and an angry man in front of you. But before the said angry man could do anything or ask anything, the archer came from the shadows and your name left his lips. “Y/N”

“Daryl.” You replied a smile on your face, you wanted to keep a more straight face don’t be so pathetic about how you were happy to see him there alive, older and hotter, but you couldn’t, because it had always been like that, you’d see him and you wouldn’t be able to control yourself. You’d open the biggest smile at him and would have your heart racing with excitement and anxiety.

“Do you know each other?” The angry man asked Daryl, but you replied. You couldn’t hold your tongue, you were anxious and when it was like that, you’d say even what you weren’t meant to say.

“We dated.” You answered, also you knew that Daryl would die of shyness if he had to say you dated or anything like this. That’s if deep inside him he was still that boy.

The man you came to know the name was Rick Grimes shot you a look that said ‘I wasn’t talking to you.’ and then looked back at Daryl in hopes he would confirm it or not. “Yeah, it’s true.”

“If she’s his ex, she’s no good. We should better don’t believe them.” You saw a ginger man with a big mustache speaking.

“Listen here, Obelix. You better not bad mouth me again or I’ll beat you so hard your mustache is going to end on your ass!” You were normally sweet and polite, but you’d never let anyone judge you, or anyone that you loved, especially this person that doesn’t even know you.

“Definitely related to Daryl.” An asian man said and couldn’t contain a small laugh, even in the state the group was.

Daryl had a smirk on his face and you couldn’t read what it meant. The Rick guy didn’t took it easy on you just because Daryl knew you, he argument people could change and he wasn’t wrong. Most of the time he hold the conversation with Aaron and you were glad about it, Aaron was better at this than you were, even though you could bring a sense of comfort most of the times when you approached women or groups with children, this wasn’t a situation where Aaron actually needed you. Unless they decided to kill both of you or something else, then you’d have to play the last card you could with them and that could only be used with them, because of Daryl. You’d need to use your son to convince them to let you go, and you’d hate to do such thing. Using your son to blackmail someone was never something you’d like to do.

You remembered the day you first had the courage to talk to him, you had always thought he was cute and cool, but you never had the courage. Until a day your “friends” excluded you and you didn’t even got to know why. You were 16 and they were so immature to do such thing, so yeah, it was their loss you thought. That’s what you tried to say and convince yourself you were better without them.

At lunch time having no table to sit, you went straight to his table, that was it, your opportunity to get to know him. “Can I have a sit here?” You asked in front of him.

“ ‘m not the owner of the chair.” He said, eyes on his plate. “But ya won’t want to be seen with me sweetheart.”

“Thanks.” You put your tray on the table and took the chair in front of him. “I’m Y/N.”

“Daryl. We already know each other. We had a subject together. Once.” He remembered! You were ecstatic, of course you’d remember him, you developed a huge crush on him since you had to pair up, but you didn’t expect him to remember you. You didn’t think you were as cool as the other girls to be remembered. “Ya still have time to maintain the integrity of yer reputation and leave.”

“I have no reputation to save, my friends simply decided I’m not cool anymore, so… fuck them, gonna make whatever I want.” He snorted, he never thought he’d live to see you cuss. You never looked like one to do so. “What’s funny?”

“Thought you never cussed.”

“Well, there are a lot of things you don’t know about me Dixon.” You replied and from this time you started to pass more and more time together, starting a strange friendship that was the commonest thing for both of you, but people outside loved to judge.

Most of the time they were discussing, you couldn’t take your eyes off him. It was as if you did, he’d disappear into thin air. In the end Rick sent a group to your RV to confirm if you were telling the truth and threatened killing you if they took too long to comeback. After they came back, Rick agreed to go to Alexandria but they would drive and you should tell them where it was, and then started again another drama.

“How are we supposed to trust you? Maybe you got another group and a radio and you’re going to attack our place. We have children and elders, we can’t risk.” You tried to reason with him, even though you knew you were in a small number and you’d never win this ‘battle’.

“Don’t you trust Daryl?” Rick threw this card. Really?

“How am I supposed to when you didn’t believe me and he did nothing to tell you were wrong and I could be trusted?” He knew you were right, not even for a second you thought Daryl wasn’t the same, but you had a point and even he knew it.

In the end you had no option but give in to their requests. You took them to the nearest city so you could take Eric too and while fighting against walkers he got his ankle hurt. Not longer after you got back to the road and in direction of Alexandria. While going there you tried to make some small talk with them, but most were not very open to it.

“What’s her name?” You asked Daryl that had a beautiful baby in his arms.

“ ‘s Judith.” He answered, he looked at her with such adoration. It was adorable to see such a big and rustic man being so tender with a baby in his arms.

“She’s so pretty.” You always wanted a baby girl, but of course you were more than happy with your baby boy. It was just a silly girl dream to have a daughter so you can play doll with them. “Can I hold her a little? There’s a long time I don’t get to hold a baby.”

Despite the common silent agreement of the group to not trust you just yet, he trusted you and was sure you’d do nothing against his ‘lil ass kicker’. So he let you have her a little in your arms and she continued to sleep peacefully. Carl observed you with the eyes of a hawk, ready to end you if you did anything wrong against his little sister, but you didn’t.

“Is your family with ya?” Daryl drawled by your side while you were mesmerized by little Jude. He wanted to know if your asshole of dad was still around and also your mom, but he couldn’t ask it like this, he didn’t know how your relation with them were after everything, he didn’t want to offend you.

“It’s just me and my son, but he’s not this cute anymore and I no longer can carry him in my arms like that.” You replied, wishing he’d have curiosity about DJ, but also afraid of where this curiosity could take you in this moment.

“What’s his name?” He asked trying to be polite, but deep down it hurt him that you had another lover and had a child, he couldn’t control this, but it was painful anyway.

“DJ.” You simply said, god you didn’t want to reveal at this moment your baby was Daryl Dixon Junior. Before he could ask the name and not the nickname, you threw another question at him. “Did you get any of my letters?”

He was taken aback. You tried to keep contact with him. You tried to reach him out. “Did ya send me letters? I… Ididn’t know. I left with Merle shortly after what happened. Probably old man got them.”

By his surprise you believed he really didn’t know. He never read the letters. He never ignored you or pretended your son didn’t exist. Deep down, you knew he’d never do that, but you never could confirm it, because you never got to see him again. Until now.

A little after Carl took Judith from your arms, you already had enough. He couldn’t let you more than you were supposed to with the baby. While your mind wandered to the past, Daryl’s were a turmoil trying to decipher what could be the name of your son, since you gave no detail.

The day prior he had warned you ‘wear sneakers tomorrow, you asked why and he just repeated what he said before. So you did. There was almost a year since your friendship with Daryl Dixon started and at that moment, he was your best friend. Sometimes he’d stay with you studying in the library or just hanging out around the city. You trusted him.

Next day, you arrived at school and found him next to an old blue truck. “What’s that?”

“A car.” He answered the obvious.

“I know dumbass! But where did you get it?” You asked curiously, he had never gone to school in one.

“I borrowed it from Merle without telling him.” Which means he stole his own brother, at least for some hours. “I’m returning it later, probably won’t even know about it. He’s knocked out in his bedroom.”

“Ok, if he catch us, I’m telling it was all you.” You played with him, but you knew Merle would never catch you, at least not before Daryl arrived at home with it.

“It actually was.” He shrugged. “Also, no way he’d believe a sweet thing like you helped me in any of that.” You instantly blushed, it wasn’t always that Daryl would throw sweet words or compliments at you, so every time you’d not fail and blush. “Did ya wear sneakers?”

“Yep.” You put one foot in front of you to show your sneakers.

“Pink? Really?” He teased you, he knew for sure you’d wear at least one thing pink and you were always wearing sandals or any other more delicate shoes.

“I don’t have many sneakers, so… yeah.” You retracted your foot to stand close to the other again.

As soon as the bell rang you entered the school and went to your classes. In the end of the day, you got together at the parking lot ready to spend your day together. “Where are we going?” You asked curiously.

“Get in the car and you’ll see.” He replied going to the driver’s side.

“Ok, Dar. I’ll let you be all mysterious while I die out of curiosity.” You dramatically entered the truck and took the passenger sit.

You drove for some time and even got outside the city. You knew he was familiarized with the forest, he told you he’d hunt, but you never thought he’d bring you someday near it. “You know I know shit about hunting, don’t you?” You asked while the car stopped close to a small trail.

“Yep, dun worry. I didn’t bring ya here to go hunting. It’s something else, wanna show you a place.” He slightly touched your hand reassuring you and you could swear it sent a delicious tingling sensation all over your body.

He got out of the truck, took a bag in the truck bed and waited for you so you could start the trail. There was 5 minutes you were walking when you tripped and almost fell down, leading to the boy to hold your hand until you arrived at your final destination.

It was a waterfall, a beautiful one, with a small lake. The water was a beautiful green surrounded by big rocks. You got all excited with the sight and gave your biggest smile to him, which made his heart flutter and stole a small smile from him.

You took your sneakers off and both of you sat on a rock where you could put your feet in the cold refreshing water. There was the shadow of a tree that made it bearable to be outside there in the warm weather. You loved how Daryl was relaxed and just enjoying the place and your company, you could talk a lot or talk nothing and it would be perfect for him.

You don’t know what made you do that, but the moment just felt perfect to speak your mind to him, actually speak with your heart. “I like you, Daryl.”

“Yeah, we’re friends of course ya do.” It was obvious if you didn’t you wouldn’t be around.

“No, I like you in the way I’ve been crushing on you for years and just now I have the courage to say, yay…” you said, trying to be a little funny so the moment wouldn’t be so embarrassing, but it would be already too embarrassing if he just rejected you at that moment.

He looked at you impressed and thinking how you could like him for so long if everybody in the school, no, in the damn city thought he was a sore loser and a scumbag. “Are ya sure?” He double checked, just in case.

“I wouldn’t put myself in this embarrassing situation with risk of you rejecting me and losing your friendship if I didn’t.” You turned to look at him and were struck by his deep blue eyes that seemed to see your soul every time you looked into it. “It’s ok if you don’t feel the same, I’ll…”

Before you could finish your apologetic sentence, his lips crashed on yours and his hand held yours one more time, and that was the first of many kisses you’d come to share in the following years.

You woke up startled, the RV came to a stop. You were finally at the gates of Alexandria, you and Aaron got off first and the rest of the group followed you and once the gates were open you could see that at the same time they were cautious they were also impressed with the place. You entered the gate and Deanna came to welcome the new people. Aaron took Eric to the infirmary and before you could excuse yourself and go home take a good bath and spend some quality time with your child, you saw the tall teenager in his 17s running in your direction. You suddenly worried, he would see him. Both of them would see each other. You smiled at your baby boy that wasn’t a baby anymore, and he hugged you tightly even taking you from the ground. He had became so tall in the last years that it was funny to see the difference of his height to his mom’s.

Daryl was frozen in place, when he saw the young man running in your direction it was as if he could see his younger self in the past, but he wasn’t hallucinating or anything like that, because that boy that looked so much like him had also many features from you. The group looked surprised at the boy, probably thinking the same thing Aaron thought when he landed his eyes at Daryl. A million thoughts ran on the hunter’s mind, this kid just could be his… he had too because no way someone could look so much like the other and don’t be blood related, especially being the son of your youth lover.

“How are you baby?” You asked cupping DJ’s face with your hand and checking his face to see if he was healthy and well.

“I’m ok mom, are you good?” He asked back observing you, he had always been such a good observer.

“We need to talk…” you started to say but couldn’t finish because the boy’s eyes landed on Daryl some meters behind looking at both of you.

DJ knew, you told him before how he looked so much like his dad. So he knew when he looked strictly to an older version of him. He put you aside and walked strong steps on Daryl’s direction, you yelled his name but he just ignored you and before you could stop him, he punched his father right on his jaw.

“DJ! No!” You put yourself between both of them.

“No? Mom! He never cared about us and now he just shows here like this? He ignored all the letters you sent and the pictures of me, and…” he bursted the feelings trapped on his chest all those years. He had the perfect speech on his mind, he elaborated it for years just to end his father and make him ashamed of what he did, but now he didn’t even say half of it and the rest stayed stuck in his throat unable to come out as tears accumulated in his blue eyes.

“It’s ok. I probably deserve it.” Daryl said from behind.

“Honey, it’s not like this. We don’t solve anything like this. You don’t know the whole story.” You rested your hands on your son’s shoulders.

“You mean the edited version of how he never cared about us, or looked for us? I know you never told me everything, I’m not stupid. And I also know men are bastards that don’t care about discarding pregnant women!” Shit. Shit. Shit. Things were getting out of control the boy was causing a scene.

“Listen to me, Daryl Dixon Junior! I’m your mother and I’d never name you after your father if he was this kind of bastard!” You firmly told him, there were so many years that you didn’t call him by his whole name that he knew he would be in trouble if he didn’t obey you at that moment. “Now, apologize, go home and wait for me.”

“Fine.” The young man said teeth greeted. “I’m sorry for punching you because you’re an asshole.” With that he turned around and left before you could lecture him one more time in front of everyone.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Daryl asked. Obviously not talking about the past, it was clear to him that you tried in the past.

“I wouldn’t dare use my son to bring you to safety. I know you’d come if I said, and your group… I know this kind of bond, you’re family. I didn’t want to be selfish and make all of you come because I used DJ to convince you. I wanted you to come because you wanted, because you trusted what Aaron and I were offering.”

He couldn’t understand well about it, he wasn’t a father till some minutes ago… even though he wished he was one long before, the kid really had a personality, reminding him a lot about himself and even about Merle. But he could try to understand, to listen to you and if he stopped to think, it didn’t made a difference if you told before or now, he would still have the same feeling of anxiety, excitement and lost, lost for all the years and everything that he lost not being around his son.

“I’m sorry you had to discover like that.” You apologized even though you knew in no way it would be less shocking for him. “We have a lot to talk, the three of us… of course, if you want to.”

“Yeah, we need to talk. I wanna know everything and I wanna know him, if ya allow me and if he wants.” He was quick to answer. God, how could you even give him a choice? He had to do it.

“Great. So… I’m gonna let you finish solving things with Deanna, when you are free, come to my house. It’s the one with the magenta pink doormat.” You give some steps backwards, eyes still on him.

“Pink, hugh…” he knew everything with you needed to have a little of pink and for sure with the end of the world you could not afford pink acessories, at least you’d make sure that one thing in your life was.

“Yes…” you almost murmured. “I’ll see you later.”

“See ya…” he replied. Wanna be added to my tag list? Let me know. (Please tell me if you want to be tagged on everything or just specific series)

Everything Taglist: @lilyevanstan1325

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Masterlist

(Daryl Dixon x reader)

Series

A Single Punch 8.9k words [Finished]

Description: The line up ends with 3 supposed dead members of the group. Sometimes you have to know when to play dead. Even when all else goes to hell.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Unfortunate Timing 7.9k words [On going]

Description: You found out your pregnant early into your relationship with Daryl Dixon. To make matters worse? The apocalypse happens a few days later! (not fully canon) [Pre apocalypse to Commonwealth]

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, ect.

Oneshots

Count to 8 4.6k words

Description: The Prison was destroyed and your family lost. Leaving you alone and with less fingers then you started with. You were known to be a gentle being. You were sorely unaware of what you were capable of.

Coincidence or Fate [Up coming]

Description: You meet Daryl in the woods. He was looking for his brother after the bridge. 5 years into your relationship you vanished from thin air only leaving a arrow pointed up carved into a tree. You had got caught into a community called the CRM. That is where you met the fabled Rick Grimes. Will you ever get home?

Requested

Unspoken Things 1.3k words

Description: Words never came easy to Daryl. After the loss of the prison and finding Alexandria however, he just couldn’t stop them.

Hangman 4.9k words [On going]

Description: Y/N Dixon was to be punished for her husbands actions at the line up. Negan decided to do it in style. To have a rope looped for your neck, intended for your death. Daryl watches you hang before being dragged away. But you had still been alive by the time you were cut down.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Till THE DEAD do us part Masterlist

A/N: This story will take place in all the seasons, but it’s not exactly a rewriting cause I’d have to re-watch everything to use the exactly lines of the characters, also I think it’s better if I tell a side story without changing the main facts of the story. I’m not good with synopses, so sorry about that.

This story has a Female Reader, but I don’t describe her appearance, so anyone can identify with her.

Summary: Y/N Grimes is Rick’s younger sister, when the world ended she had Lori, Carl and Shane. But did she really have them? Her brother was dead, her sister-in-law was sleeping with her brother’s best friend and her nephew was just a small kid. She had him, Daryl Dixon was no knight in a shining armor and she was no damsel in distress, but maybe they were exactly what each other needed.

Warnings: swearing, death, violence , blood, injuries, sex, smut. Minors do not interact. 18+ (with the time I’ll add more to the list).

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Grimes!Reader

Chapters

Smut - 🥵

Chapter 1: Vulnerable ~ Moodboard Chapter 1

Chapter 2: Anything that reminds you of me ~ Moodboard Chapter 2

Chapter 3: I’m sorry and Thank you ~ Moodboard Chapter 3

Chapter 4: Pinky Promise ~ Moodboard Chapter 4

Chapter 5: We’re all gonna die ~ Moodboard Chapter 5

Chapter 6: Are ya blind? ~ Moodboard Chapter 6

Chapter 7: Chupacabra ~ Moodboard Chapter 7

Chapter 8: Because it’s you

Chapter 9: I ain’t yer bitch, Grimes

Chapter 10: I’d carry it proudly 🥵

Chapter 11: I ain’t playin’

Chapter 12: You already have me 🥵

Chapter 13: This group’s broken

Chapter 14: We’ll not lose each other

Chapter 15: We’re definitely Lucky

Chapter 16: Ya know I hate lies, don’t ya?

Chapter 17: Of Kisses and Chapsticks

Chapter 18: I ain’t sleeping with Hershel

Chapter 19: After all this time?

Chapter 20: Feeling better D.?

Dividers of the chapters by @cafekitsune , for now it’s only on Chapter 17, but I’m thinking about going back and using in the olds too.

Getting You Back

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Febuwhump Prompt - Restrained

Prompt - "You just took the one thing I care most about away from me, that makes me very dangerous and it should make you very scared."

You kept your eyes trained on the floor as you were forced onto your knees, not daring to look up. You missed Dwight opening the van, missed as members of your group were forced out of it and onto their knees beside you. You didn’t look up, you couldn’t look up, not when Glenn called for Maggie, not as Maggie sobbed and Dwight shoved Glenn down.

You didn’t look up, not until Rick nudged you, then you turned to him and watched as he nodded ahead. You let out a sob as you saw a bloody Daryl on his knees, watching you with wide, scared eyes.

You went to stand, not giving a damn about the amount of guns trained on your group, not giving a damn about anything other than getting to Daryl but Sasha saw the move before you could make it and grabbed your arm. She held you tight enough to bruise but it kept you in place even as you fought against her, not taking your eyes off Daryl.

“Don’t.” She murmured to you, quietly but her tone was hard, knowing that one wrong move was all it would take for you to be killed.

You watched as Daryl shook his head, barely moving it but you caught it and a silent sob wracked your body as you sat heavily back on your knees, body shaking as you stared at him, pleading with him for something, anything.

“Let’s meet the man.” Simon said and your whole body tensed but you refused to look away from Daryl, desperately blinking away the tears.

A man, clad with a spiked baseball bat and a leather jacket stepped out of the RV with a smirk but you refused to look at him, eyes trained on Daryl who looked back at you like somehow his gaze alone could protect you.

“Pissing our pants yet?” The man asked and you scrunched your nose up, trying to hold back tears.

“Which one of you pricks is the leader?” He asked and both you and Daryl glanced away from each other for a second as you looked at Rick out of the corner of your eyes as Simon pointed him out.

You listened to Negan talk to Rick, hating everything about him as you knelt there, hating the sound of his voice but you also knew that if he was talking, he was distracting himself and not hurting any of you.

You could hear Rick’s shuddering breath as Negan told him the new rules, the cocky jackass demanding all of your supplies, letting Rick know exactly who was in charge and letting you all know that none of you were safe.

“You didn’t really think you were going to get through this without being punished, did you?” Negan asked and you felt your blood run cold at the words, eyes shifting from Daryl to the baseball bat he carried. “I’m gonna beat the holy hell out of one of you.” Negan warned as he stared at each of you, swinging the bat around as he introduced Lucille.

You heard Negan talk to Abraham and Carl and then he was crouched down in front of you and you could feel your heart threatening to beat right out your chest as he followed your gaze over to Daryl with a smirk before he took your chin in his hand and gently turned your face so you were looking at him.

You immediately lowered your gaze, looking at the floor instead of at him but still saw the way he smirked.

“You wanna pay attention?” He whispered into your ear, his smirk widening as you shivered. “That your boyfriend over there, that sonofabitch killed a hell of a lot of my men, maybe I should introduce him to Lucile.”

Negan grinned as your gaze snapped up to him, eyes narrowing into a glare as no words were needed to get your threat across, don’t touch him.

“Oh, I like you.” He laughed as he looked you up and down with an approving nod before he stood back up.

He moved onto Maggie after that, laughing as Glenn jumped for him only to be stopped by Dwight holding Daryl’s crossbow to his face. You watched as Negan let the man off with a warning, raising an eyebrow as a tear made its way down your face, certain that Glenn’s outburst would get him a one on one with Lucille.

Negan watched your face change as you looked at him and laughed before he warned the group against any more daring moves.

Your gaze shifted back to Daryl, seeking comfort in his scared eyes. Daryl looked right back at you, a warning in his eyes for you not to look away as Negan started whistling, fear coursing through your whole body as you nodded at him, hating that it felt like time was about to run out.

“I simply cannot decide.” Negan told you all and you hated that he was getting what he wanted as the tension and anxiety continued to consume you and you desperately wished to be by Daryl’s side. “I got an idea,” He said before the bat was pointed in Rick’s face, then Maggie’s, then Abraham’s, then Michonne’s.

Your heart stuttered as he pointed it at Daryl, using it to turn Daryl’s face away from you and letting it linger there before he moved onto Sasha, Aaron, Carl and then you, continuing down the line before he finally stopped, you and Daryl staring at each other with matching fear as tears slid down your face.

“Anybody moves, anybody says anything, cut the boy’s other eye out and feed it to his father and then we'll start.” He warned before he brought the bat down and people around you screamed.

You choked out a sob, feeling vomit burning your throat as you watched the bat continue to thud down on Abraham. You continued looking towards Daryl as the tears poured down your cheeks and Daryl swallowed heavily as he took in the scene, hearing the noises and Negan’s enjoyment.

It took everything in Daryl to stay knelt down, knowing there were too many guns trained on your group, knowing that Negan wouldn’t give him an opening to get to you, to get you as far away from him as possible. Right now Daryl would give anything for you to be back home.

Then Negan started grinning and laughing, waving the bloody bat around, first in Rosita’s face, then Michonne’s, then Maggie’s before he stopped at you. Daryl watched as the bloody bat was ran along your cheek, leaving a mix of Abraham’s blood and your own blood that poured from cuts as the barbed wire nicked your cheek.

That’s when Daryl couldn’t take it anymore, that’s when he jumped into action. He was up before anyone even realised, taking two big steps towards Negan and punching him in the face with a grunt before Negan’s men had him on the ground, you crying out as Negan stepped close to him, holding the bat out towards him.

Sasha caught you as you went to stand up, pulled you into her and held you tight as you struggled against her, listening to Negan laugh.

“Stop,” She muttered into your ear, “You’re going to get him killed.” She hated the bluntness of her words but they worked, you stopped struggling and she let you pull away from her, you leaning forward as you cried, your forehead resting on your knees.

“That is a no-no,” Negan exclaimed and you lifted your head slightly, watching him crouch down in front of Daryl, missing the looks Rick and Sasha shot at you, Sasha ready to catch you again knowing that if Negan made one move you’d be up.

She wasn’t going to let him kill you too.

You watched as two of Negan’s men pinned Daryl to the floor and it took everything in you to listen to Sasha, to stay still even though every bone in your body was screaming to move, screaming at you to kill Negan.

“Do you want me to do it?” You heard Dwight say, aiming the crossbow at Daryl’s head.

“No!” You yelled and Sasha barely caught you as you leapt up only to have her pull you back onto the floor.

Negan turned to look at you, grinned as he watched you struggling and fight against your friend and let out a chuckle as he gripped Daryl’s hair.

“Get your hands off him!” You shouted and Negan looked between the two of you before he told Dwight no, shooting you a smile as he did.

You listened to Daryl grunt but breathed a sigh of relief as he was dragged back into the line up.

“I told you people the first one was free, then what did I say, huh? I said I would shut that shit down! No exceptions.” Negan exclaimed but you weren’t listening to him, you pushed yourself away from Sasha again and she let you go, keeping a hold of your shirt as her blood ran cold at Negan’s words.

You ignored the man as you turned to Daryl, Daryl already looking over at you, panting with fear clear in his eyes. You forced yourself to smile at him, it was a terrible attempt as your lips wobbled and tears continued to flow down your face but you watched as some of the tension left him as he smiled back just as badly as yours had been.

Neither of you listened to Negan, not until the sound of the bat connecting with a skull sounded. Daryl’s head snapped over to Negan as did yours, all of you watching in horror as Glenn was killed before your eyes, listening as Maggie sobbed and none of you were able to do anything.

You had to look away, your gaze turning to Daryl who kept his eyes locked on Glenn’s body, flinching with every hit and you knew he was blaming himself. You sobbed as the urge to kill Negan spread through your body, looking away from Daryl and lowering your head and not listening as Negan began to speak again.

“Give me his axe.” Negan said to Simon and you watched as it was passed in front of your face, Negan staring down at Rick before he stood and pocketed the axe for himself before dragging Rick away into the RV.

“I’ll be back, maybe Rick’ll be with me.” He said as he left and you closed your eyes, more tears making their way down your face.

You didn’t know how much time had passed before the sound of the RV coming back drew everyone’s attention but you kept your eyes scrunched shut and head down, not able to look up as Negan and Rick left the RV.

“Get some guns to the back of their heads.” Negan said and that made you raise your head, looking straight ahead.

You took a deep breath and let your shoulders square up, sitting straighter and preparing yourself for what was to come. You glanced over to your right, forcing a smile as you saw Daryl already looking at you, guilt, fear and anger clear across his face.

“Not your fault.” You mouthed to him, watching him shake his head.

“Kid,” Negan said and you watched as he forced Carl over to him, watched as he strapped the belt to his arm and felt sick as Negan forced him to the ground and realised what he was going to do, listening as Rick pleaded with Negan.

You gasped as Negan demanded Rick choose between your lives or Carl’s left arm.

You looked away from the scene, looked towards Michonne before looking past her at Daryl who’s horror was reflected in his eyes.

“Look at me.” He said and you swallowed, not looking away from him as you listened to Rick hand himself over to Negan.

Daryl repeated the words to you, making sure your eyes stayed locked onto his even as he glanced back over to Rick watching as his best friend, his brother, sobbed, begged and pleaded with the bastard. Daryl’s eyes couldn’t keep watching the scene but he couldn’t look away either, his eyes darting from you back over to Rick and Negan every few seconds, shaking his head when you tried to look away just as Rick picked the axe up.

Daryl felt himself let out a breath of relief, tension leaving his body as Negan stopped him from cutting Carl’s arm off. He nodded over at you again and you felt yourself gasp breathlessly, nodding back at him.

“Dwight,” Negan said and Daryl glanced over to him watching as the bat was pointed at him, feeling his stomach drop and he glanced over to you, glad you missed the action as you did as he said, not taking your eyes off him.

“I love you.” He mouthed, watching as your eyebrows knitted together.

“I love you too.” You told him before Negan spoke words that turned your stomach cold.

“Load him up.”

At those words though your head shot over to Negan and saw exactly who he was talking about, not even getting a chance to react before Dwight was pulling Daryl up and throwing him into the back of the van he was brought in.

“No!” You yelled, standing up and running over to him, clawing at Dwight’s back, desperately trying to tug him away from Daryl, screaming and sobbing when you felt a hand grab the back of your shirt before you were thrown onto the floor.

“Get your damn hands off her!” You heard Daryl yell as Negan held you against the floor, roughly holding your hair and chuckling as you struggled against his knee on your back, trying to fight him off of you.

“You people just don’t learn do you?” He asked with a grin, “You really want me to kill another person?”

“Take me,” You begged him, still struggling against his hold despite the fact it was getting you nowhere.

“Best get your hands off her or I swear t’God-” Daryl was still shouting and Negan looked over to Dwight with a sharp look.

“Shut him up,” He said and chuckled as Daryl fell silent whereas you were still pleading with him, tears slipping down your face.

“Please, please, just take me. I’ll do whatever you want, just, just leave him alone, please, leave him alone, don’t take him.” Negan relaxed his grip on your hair, brushing it out of your face and watched you look up at him with wide, pleading eyes.

“Shit girl, you’re almost making me feel bad.” He smiled, his fingers trailing across your cheek. “I like you but I want him, he’s mine now.”

“No!” You yelled, still trying to get his weight off of you.

“Yes!” He shouted back, sick of the group now. “I cannot make these rules more simple, you do as I say, I say he’s mine you smile and say yes Negan. I already let your people off with one warning, do not test me today.”

You watched as the door slammed shut on Daryl’s face and you sobbed as he gestured for somebody to take his place, the man pointing a gun at you as you turned around you were on your back and glared up at Negan.

“Want to try something else?” He asked with a raised eyebrow, “And the answer to that better be no because if one more person forgets my rules I’m going to start cutting pieces off…” Here Negan trailed off, looking towards his second in command. “Hell’s his name?” He asked and you felt anger burn inside of you as you sat up, trying to calculate if you could snatch the gun out of the man’s hand and kill Negan before somebody shot you.

From behind him you saw Michonne shaking her head at you, pleading with you to just let Negan do as he pleased.

“Daryl.” Simon said after a pause and you turned away from Michonne to glare at him.

“Wow, that actually sounds right.” He chuckled and crouched down next to you again, locking eyes with Rick as he spoke, “I will cut pieces off of Daryl and put them on your doorstep or better yet I’ll bring him to you and have you do it for me.”

He turned his head towards you and gave you a grin before he leaned in close, whispering words meant only for you.

“Now I have a feeling you aren’t going to follow my rules so let me be very clear, I will not hesitate to hurt him, you make one move I don’t approve of, his death is on your hands.” He smiled as you turned to face him, so close to each other and he could see the hatred clear as day in your eyes as everybody watched you.

“Go to hell you bastard.” You whispered back, hearing your group gasp and cry as they expected Negan to retaliate.

“I like you.” He repeated with a smile, patting your cheek and standing you.

“I’m gonna leave you a truck.” He told you all, “We’ll be back for our first offering in a week until then,” Negan waved a hand at you all and you could do nothing but watch as they all left, your eyes not leaving the van that held Daryl.

You were going to get him back.

You had too.

__________

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MDNI

The way I wanna jump his bones after this scene arrrgggghhhhhh I need to be put down!

Daryl is a soft lover. He breathes you in and breathes you out— never ready— but always willing to hit the next step.

His hands are like ghosts tingling their way up your body, touching any area he can find as long as you allow it.

His kisses are soft and slow, as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear at any moment. You are his world, his reason, his light. You give him reason to keep going even when the world feels hopeless.

He is in love with you— every part of you, every blemish, fold, wrinkle and imperfection just pull him to you. In his eyes no one could ever compare— and he wouldn’t want them to.

Vocalizing his love for you is hard, he’s not sure if he’s ever told you out loud how deeply you’re ingrained into his deeply damaged heart. And yet with his touch, you can feel the words he’s unable to say— seeping into your skin like hot wax.

He lets you braid his hair, he sits with you and looks up to the stars, dreaming of a future that has long since passed. But it doesn’t matter— because as long as you’re by his side the world is right on track.

“Just admit it,” you said gently, a knowing smile on your face.

Daryl swallowed his bite and gave you a curious look. “Admit what?” he growled.

“You’re not this cold, emotionless person you sometimes pretend to be. You think and feel deeply. You can admit it. I already know it anyway.”

He stared at you for a long moment, his heart starting to race as you simply peered back.

“I used to do it too. It feels like protection, like you’re shielding yourself from hurt, but you’re robbing yourself of the good things we still have left in this world.”

Daryl gulped. “Ya can be annoyingly observant, ya know?”

Your smile widened. “I know.”

Prompt: “You’re not this cold, emotionless person you sometimes pretend to be. You think and feel deeply. You can admit it. I already know it anyway.”

I’ve been thinking about this for like two days, and I need y’all to tell me in detail what you think.

Do you guys think Daryl likes long nails/acrylics,painted or just short ones? I need some detailed opinions from y’all cuz I can’t think🙁🙏

(Using all kinds of tags to get awnsers cuz I’m desperate)

Y/N, giggling: You sneeze like a girl.

Daryl: How ‘bout I pound ya like a boy?

Daryl: …

Daryl: Tha’ didn’ come out righ’.

Y/N: I know what you meant. Your place or mine?

Daryl: Yers.

REMEMBER.

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

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

Safety lets you forget.

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

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

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

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

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

One is fine. You can handle one.

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

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

Locking it is another story.

You have no hope of accomplishing that.

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

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

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

Hiding. Hiding. Hiding.

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

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

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

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

You hold your breath.

"Well check it out then!" another demands.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then a bright light blinds you.

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

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

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

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

You just had to stay alive.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But—"

"Now."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your pistol sits at your hip, a comfortable weight.

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

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

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

You were nothing. Prey.

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

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

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

He'd been waiting for you.

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

Then his eyes are on you.

Then his hands.

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

You nod.

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

—————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Saying he liked you needy was an understatement.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod weakly in response.

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

He's got you.

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

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

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

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

Strength. Everything you've been forced to remember.

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

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

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

imagine… 

finding daryl a really cool zippo lighter and seeing him mindlessly flick it open and close throughout the day.

sitting with your feet in his lap while you both relax on the porch swing (alexandria era).

pinky linking instead of full on hand holding. 

finally getting to the playful butt swat stage of your relationship + him winding up his t-shirt and chasing you around the house. 

him praising you whenever you kill an animal: “nice shot, girl.” “look at you.“ “atta girl.” 

reading a book with your legs crossed on his work bench as he tinkers with his bike.

getting a cold and when daryl dips down to kiss your lips, you turn your head away from him. “daryl, don’t! i don’t wanna get you sick!” and then he grabs your chin and presses a firm kiss on your lips anyway.

daryl finds a cowboy hat and drops it on your head. you let out a giggle. “what’s that saying? save a horse, ride a cowboy?” you smirk. his cheeks darken and he turns away from you. “think ya’ got tha’ backwards..” he drawls. “no? pretty sure i’m right…”

eating a lollipop and daryl walks right up and pulls it out of your mouth and puts it in his (or vise versa).

having a journal that you can both communicate in. we all know daryl isn’t the best at communicating his feelings verbally and maybe you aren’t either, so you just write back and forth to each other.

i love the journal idea because you would use it for everything. daryl has to be up early to help rick with something? he’ll scribble a quick “helping rick. come find me.” and as soon as you wake up and feel the void in bed beside you, you go right to the journal.

him getting hard as fuck when you give shane attitude (farm era).

you get into an accident on a run and ending up losing a lot of blood and you wake up later in the infirmary. “ya’ lost a lotta blood,” he says. “then i bet you did too…” you smiled groggily knowing that he gave you some of his (he’s a universal donor).

rubbing aloe vera on his sunburnt skin and he just lets out these sexy ass heavy breaths.

him watching you get visibly frustrated when someone else is helping you with something, but not doing it the way you want it done, so daryl steps in and tells them to get lost.

daryl giving you cold medicine while you’re sick and he makes you take it in front of him and open your mouth to show him that you swallowed it.

a/n: these are my favorite scenarios to imagine when I'm in class :) if you wanna use any of these ideas for a fic, tag me! i'd love to see them!

GIF by @daryl-dixon-daydreams

Carol: So, you and Y/N?

Daryl, fiddling with his crossbow: Mhm.

Carol: Have any couple’s spats yet?

Daryl: Mhm.

Carol: What’s that like?

Daryl: Asked her fer a glass’a water while she was still pissed off. She brought me a cup’a ice n’ said “wait.”

Carol: Creative.

Daryl, trying not to smile: Yeah, she’s alrigh’.

Sins and Honey Flavored Sweetness

daryl x fem!reader

wordcount: 4.7k

warnings: 18+, MDNI, smut under the cut, perv!daryl (not really, he just has a lil crush), male masturbation, unprotected p-in-v, oral f!receiving, mutual pining

a/n: i have never written something so descriptive ohmygod. do be warned lol, hugs and kisses byeee <33

Daryl knew there were unspoken boundaries when it came to you.

A thin line of loose salt, that whispered to him. Beckoned him huskily to dust his fingers through and have a taste, but daunting enough for him to keep his soles rooted in the dirt, salivating from a distance.

It wasn’t because you were already spoken for in any way; if anything, you kept your romantic interests simmering farther on the back burner than he did, which spoke volumes in itself. Or because you were younger than him, a couple of years wasn’t anything to turn a nose up over, especially nowadays.

It was, however, the place you held amongst your people. You were like bright, shiny gold within the group, dared not to be corrupted or led astray. The heart that kept everyone’s beating, even in the darkest of times, soothing hope into the atmosphere with your infectious smile.

Oh, and you were Rick's younger sister... which he hated to admit, only tempted him more. And he wasn’t quite sure as to why.

He’d mulled it over too many times to count, noting everything about you that allured him so intensely.

He liked the contrast between you two; like sun rays peeking through the clouds after a mid-summer storm. You were soft, fresh as clean linen and he was dark, brooding. He often fantasized about taking that sweet innocent nature of yours and painting it with his essence. He knew it was wrong and constantly shamed himself for having such perverted thoughts about his best friend's sister. But, god, how could he not?

Not when you pranced around him daily, teasing him with your velvety, feminine voice and kind touches. Touches that sent brisk shivers down his spine, sure to leave him breathless and bothered — another thing he secretly liked. You were addictive in that sense, he’d distance himself the minute he felt the familiar rush coursing through his veins and then crave it immediately once it was gone. A drug he couldn’t help but relapse from.

And it didn’t help that you were always so keen to assist him, doting on his every injury or problem with such gentle attentiveness and sincerity. That might be what he liked the most. It was fascinating how pure you remained in a world so plagued, always ready to nurture. It soothed a deep, restless, and scarred part of him, finding solace in it.

He'd come to learn you were like that with everyone though. So, he found himself grappling with things to deter your attention his way, playing dumb and clumsy just to have your sweet scent fill the nearby air. He felt like a horny teenager with a hopeless crush. It was absolutely ridiculous and yet, here he was once again, feet dangling off your kitchen counter as you searched the cabinets for some aspirin to aid in his 'headache'. 

It wasn't a complete lie per se - his sensitivity to light gave him troubles quite often but, whether it was enough to complain about or not, could be debated.

Nonetheless, he sat for you patiently, listening to your quiet humming as you searched about. He loved when you did that, singing your soft melodies under your breath mindlessly. It was such a girly thing to do, but it was comforting in a way, an airy blanket warming the silence.

"Ah, here it is!" drew him out of his thoughts, and he cast a glance at your bright smile of accomplishment. You popped the cap open swiftly, shaking out 2 little white pills, and handed them over with a glass of water.

“Let me know if you need any more. They should kick in soon, but I know how tough migraines can be,” you soothed, your sympathy never faltering. He bowed his head quickly, not wanting you to see the flash of guilt that surely crossed it. "Thanks," he mumbled as he tossed his head back, swallowing them both with a shivered grimace.

Wiping the water droplets from his chapped lips, his eyes found yours again and noticed a small smirk hidden in your features. “What?”  

You let out a chuckle, reaching for the glass he held to wash, “Oh nothin’... just don’t think I’ve seen you cringe like that before, is all.” 

His brows furrowed at your statement, “So?” he questioned further.

“Walkers, blood, rotting flesh… never. But an itty bitty pill?” Your laugh grew louder, finding the situation even more amusing as you explained it to him. “Whatever,” he scoffed, hopping off the counter with a smirk. He knew you would be expecting him to leave after that, you had helped him with his ‘issue of the day’ and there was no reason to linger any further. But he did.

Daryl scanned your frame as you washed the few dishes that were in the sink, chewing on his thumb habitually. You wore a white, long-sleeve shirt with a faded band logo printed on the front and some beaten-up blue jeans that seemed to cup your ass perfectly.

His mind wandered before he could stop it, imagining how soft and warm your skin must be underneath all those clothes. How soft and warm your hands would be wrapped around him, or better yet, your pretty lips taking him deep with a moan. He felt his own jeans tighten slightly and quickly diverted his gaze to the floor, clearing his throat as if it would erase those thoughts from his brain.

“Something else you need, Daryl?” You glanced over your shoulder, wrists deep in soapy water. 

“Nah, uh, thanks. I’ll see ya later,” he said and beelined for the door praying to god you didn’t see his flushed face and half-hard cock poking through his pants. He was so fucked. Couldn’t even look at you anymore without sprouting boners and picturing you on them, milking him greedily. 

He rushed down the porch and across the lawn, bursting into his shared house with Carol just next door. He didn’t even glance toward the kitchen to see if his friend was home, desperate for a cold shower to level him out. The house was dead quiet anyway, leading him to assume Carol was out for the day.

"Such a fuckin idiot," he cursed himself under his breath as he made his way down the stairs to his room. You probably knew honestly. Could tell how pathetically bothered you got him, and just put on a friendly face to keep from embarrassing him.

He left the bathroom door open in his distress and hastily shed his clothing, stepping into the tepid water. Immediate relief flooded his senses, feeling the cool stream wash away the sweat and grime the day had caked on. Pouring some homemade soap he was given into his hand, he scrubbed at his skin, determined to rid himself of your previous interaction along with the dirty thoughts that plagued his mind. He shouldn’t be thinking about you that way, it just wasn’t in the cards.

For starters, you would have to want him too, (which he knew would never happen), and even if you did, how the ever living fuck would he explain that to Rick?

‘Oh hey Rick, I have a massive hard-on for yer sister, you okay with that?’ Fuck no. Just thinking about that conversation had him cringing in awkwardness and he shut the idea down instantly. 

But there you were still, invading his thoughts with your dreamy laugh and perky attitude. Why did you have to be such a goddamn tease?

He leaned forward, resting his hands on the wall trying to regain some composure. He gulped down deep breaths of moist air, willing his body to calm itself down, but it was fruitless. The image of your body, pushed up against the wall under his hands, wet and flushed, bubbled to the surface. He groaned. Daryl knew what he had to do. It wasn’t the first time he had gotten off thinking about you, and he damn well knew it wasn’t gonna be the last, but it still felt wrong each time, pumping his cock when you were just next door. His body craved the relief though, relief only indulgence could satisfy. 

He hissed as he dragged his fingers along his shaft, gripping at the base and beginning to pump slowly. He was painfully hard at this point, each squeeze raking shivers over his damp skin while he choked out quiet moans. With his opposite hand, he flicked the water to a warmer setting, pitifully hoping the heat and steam would resemble something close to your body against his. God, if only you were here.

He sped up, swiping his thumb over his sensitive tip with each pass, sending jolts throughout his body. “Oh, fuck,” he groaned deep and husky, not a care for the noise filling the empty house.

You were there, clear as day in his mind, moaning along with him as he pounded into you, cunt gripping him like a vice. Your breath was hot and pitchy against his ear as you begged him to fuck you harder, to go faster, to cum deep inside you. His cock twitched at that, he was already so close.

“Fuck, y/n, baby,” he whined, humping erratically into his long-forgotten hand. The muscles in his stomach quivered in bliss as he stroked himself, lost in his detailed imagination. You were cumming, trembling around him in languid spasms with his seed spilling out of you, and Daryl was over the edge, tossing his head back moaning your name as he unloaded, letting the steamy water wash it away. 

It took him a few minutes to recover, catching his breath slowly and trying to avoid the guilt that would soon be settling in. What would you think of him if you knew what he did behind muffled walls? How he thought of you in such dirty ways, when you’d only ever see him as a dear friend. He wondered what you might be doing now. Traipsing around your cozy home, oblivious to his rapid, lustful heart meters away.

The water was beginning to run frigid and he let out a defeated sigh. Absentmindedly, he reached past the curtain for a towel and stepped out, drying his hair off roughly and then wrapping the towel around his waist, turning to the bedroom for fresh clothes and much-needed sleep. His mind ached to be thoughtless, consumed by the abyss of unconsciousness.

He should have known the world stopped playing fair long ago.

In a single moment, his heart stopped and his stomach dropped to the fucking depths of hell.

There you stood, feet frozen to the floor with his crossbow in hand, like he willed you into existence. He stuttered, his mouth opening and closing like a blubbering fish. He was sure his eyes were the size of saucers, he could feel them ready to pop out of his skull and run away. There was no fucking way this was happening.

Several beats passed. The silence deafening between you both and for a moment, he honestly debated stepping back into the shower. Pretend you were a figment of his tortured imagination and just hope you’d go away. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d seen ghosts.

“You uh- you forgot your crossbow when you rushed out today,” you finally broke the silence, solidifying your genuine presence. He glanced down to the bow and then back at you, lost for words. Did you hear him? He moaned your goddamn name, quite a few minutes ago though… had you been standing there long? Were you angry?

His racing thoughts were interrupted when you stepped towards him, leaning the bow against the doorframe and moving closer. Instinctively, he took a step back, “Thanks,” he replied shakily, but you kept moving closer. He noticed your gaze then. It wasn’t on his face, but on his abdomen, at the hem of the damp towel hanging off of him. Your eyes had a gleam to them. Something dark and lustful.

No. Surely, he was reading you wrong. 

“Daryl,” you spoke, and he audibly gulped, nervousness and absolute embarrassment flooding his system, “is there something you need to tell me?” 

He didn’t answer you, instead deciding to burn a hole into the floor with his shame. He couldn’t look at you. You knew. You had heard him and were teasing him about it and here he was, a coward who couldn’t even admit to it. And you had every single right. He crossed that salty line years ago, with his first sinful thought about you. Feasted on it, deluding himself into thinking all was okay as long as his actions didn’t physically involve you.

He barely registered your advances when he finally raised his head. You were so close he could feel the heat of your breath against his burning skin, the luscious scent of vanilla and pine filling the air.

“Can I see?” you asked quietly.

He nearly choked on his own spit. Your hand was skimming along his stomach lightly, suggestively toying with the towel that covered him up. “Huh?” His mind was blank. 

“Can I see you?” you repeated, and all he could do was give you a curt little nod, not entirely sure what he was agreeing to just yet, but rendered acquiesced. Your hand pulled at the fabric softly, letting it drop to the floor revealing his manhood to your hungry eyes. Nothing was making any sense. Surely, you did not feel this way too. Surely.

There were those whispers again. He shouldn't have let you do that. He should be recoiling, shielding himself from your gaze but he was statuesque, like you had drank the life out of him with one simple look.

"Were you thinking about me touching you?" Like you had to even ask. The answer was written in plain sight, right there on his forehead and in his bashful eyes.

"M'sorry, I-" he had no clue how to even begin this kind of apology, remorse coursing through his veins rapidly. The dots weren’t connecting, not yet. "I know it's wrong, I shouldn't have-,”

And then he felt you, pressing your lips against his softly — timidly as gentle hands feathered across his waist, coaxing him into you. Your kiss was buttery, lips so smooth and sweet he wanted to drown in them. You tasted like fresh honey and vanilla ice cream, hints of minty toothpaste caught on your tongue. It was intoxicating to say the least, swarming his brain with a muted buzz and he whimpered, much to his surprise, melting into your touch quicker than he would like to admit.

“Y/n, y/n, nah we can’t,” he heard himself say as he came to his senses slowly, but he wasn’t pushing you away. Why wasn’t he pushing you away? You couldn’t, right?

“Please,” you whispered against him, low and sultry. Who was he to deny you? God Daryl, get a grip.

“Y/n, no,” he repeated, allowing his tone to take some authority even if that was the last thing he truly wanted. You stepped back from him then, a hurt expression painting your features and he felt his heart squeeze. “Why?”

His brain was scattered. This felt like a nightmare; another cruel joke sent his way to haunt him for the rest of his life. There just always had to be a price, didn't there?

"He doesn't mind, you know?" you whispered and his eyes were on yours instantly. You traced soft shapes across his stomach, sending those shivers down his spine and effectively turning him into putty.

"What’re ya talkin' about?" He needed to regain his composure, he could barely breathe with you this close, eyes raking his naked frame with desire.

"Rick... you and me. He doesn't care," you stated, "thinks it's cute actually... my crush on you."

Your crush on him?

"He trusts you, Daryl, with everything. You're pretty much the only person he would want me to be with." He hadn't thought of it that way, only ever assumed voicing his attraction to you would result in his head on a platter, or his dick… or both.

You began peppering his neck with small kisses, trailing them down his chest and over his puffy nipples. He hissed when you nipped at one, licking over it after, soothing the burn. "Ya sure?"

You nodded.

"Ya sure ya want me?" he asked dubiously. His question was answered when you grabbed his hand gently, guiding it inside your cotton underwear, letting his calloused fingers trace your soaked folds. He could have cum then and there, spreading your slick up and down between his fingers like it was liquid gold. Fuck me.

"This all fer me?" he panted, succumbed to a state of disbelief at your evident arousal. You were so wet around his fingers, pulsing and bucking slightly with each feathered stroke. "Were ya listenin' ta me?"

Hair fell over your face as you nodded sheepishly, gazing down to watch his fingers massaging you. You bit your swollen, cherry-red lip, “Couldn’t help it, you sounded so- so good.”

Now that... that got him going. Imagining your pretty cunt dripping in your panties, listening to his gasps while he fucked himself to the thought of you. Who knew the golden girl would be so naughty?

Daryl felt his confidence build, watching you fall apart for him from such simple touches. The last wire holding him back snapped and he needed more. He had waited for this moment for so fucking long.

You whine as he retracts his hand, only to be completely shut up when he places the thick digit on his tongue, sucking greedily and sloppily. It was better than he ever could have imagined, similar to the honey of your lips but so much more sweet. He went back for seconds. And thirds. Until he was dropping to his knees, deciding to lick the goddamn plate clean.

You enveloped him in the best way possible, lifting one of your thighs over his shoulder as he tugged on your tight jeans, pulling them down enough to fit his head. His tongue pressed flat against your clothed pussy, and he sucked, tasting a mixture of your sweetness and residual laundry detergent on his tongue. His moans burned the back of his throat, desperately trying to hide them but you weren’t having it, tugging on his chocolate locks for more. “Don’t do that. I wanna hear you, honey.” Good lord. He silently thanked each lucky star of his that the house was empty before emitting a guttural groan between your thighs. If this was all he got from you, a little taste of the sugar you were made of, he would die a very happy man.

He took your clit between his lips, rolling it with his tongue. Your underwear was so wet with your arousal and his spit that it was practically see-through, just calling for him to pull aside. “Please,” you gasped.

“Hm? Wha’s that?”

He’d heard you just fine. He wanted to hear you again, and again. He was greedy and you were so damn sinful, “Please, need them off, need you.”

So, he complied, as any sane man would, shimmying them down your hips as he sucked and nibbled each inch of newly exposed skin. You watched him intently with half-lidded eyes, rocking slowly to let plush skin engulf his senses like a cloud. He felt you playing with his messy hair, taking small strands between your fingertips and moving them behind his ears to see him better. The gesture struck something deep within him. You were so kind, so focused on this moment and him, he’d be damned if he let it continue on the hard damp floor of his bathroom. No fucking way.

He stood abruptly, catching you off guard. “Bed,” he muttered, capturing your lips again in a haste. He couldn’t get enough. He didn’t want a minute to pass where he wasn’t tasting some part of you. Any part of you. Sweet, sweet honey.

You led your bodies backward till your knees hit the mattress, wasting no time as you crawled up to his pillows, taking him with you.

This moment right here, this feeling… he wanted to bottle it up. Freeze time and just stare, immerse himself into every tiny detail. It felt almost criminal to continue. You were a vision, panting and squirming beneath him; so much electricity and anticipation bouncing between your yearning bodies. Could you really want this just as much as he did? Was he truly that oblivious, all these years? Whatever that answer may be, he wasn’t gonna fuck this up. Not with you.

Your hands on his face coaxed him back to reality, molding into your touch like clay. Eager lips chased his as he pulled your shirt off and as much as he wanted to freeze time and memorize each freckle of you, the more skin each other touched the more obscene the kiss became. An unartistic jumble of spit and hands and moans and thrusts.

In all the time spent pining silently for the other, you both could care less about grace.

No, he needed to hear you. Listen to every octave of moan you had in you, all at once. He needed to know each and every spot that had you whimpering and begging, this second. If time did decide to stop at any given moment he needed to have you, be you, feel everything you had to offer, and soak in it till his skin pruned.

His lips sucked and bruised their way down to your navel, and then past, kissing up your folds with lustful intent. The sounds you made above him had him seeing stars and he wanted more. His tongue slipped past your lips, finally diving into the hive of your sweetness, rolling his tongue languidly over your clit. Your hands were everywhere around him, fisting at the sheets, the pillows, and then his hair as you desperately tried to push him closer. He didn’t mind. He’d gladly suffocate between your thighs, a death he’d welcome compared to the ones he fought from outside every day.

He dove lower, smoothing his tongue over your entrance but not delving past quite yet.

“Daryl,” you gasped above him.

Looking up between your legs, he caught a glimpse of your face tossed back in pleasure and he groaned, having to ground his hips into the mattress below to relieve some pressure. “What d’ya need, sweetheart?”

He’d give you anything. The moon if you asked for it — anything to keep those pretty sounds coming from your lips. “You, you, please you.”

“How so?”

He knew he was teasing you. He’d drawn back from your glistening slit, pressing little pecks everywhere that he could reach. Your hips, your pelvis, the little crease between your thighs and your cunt. That spot drew a deep moan from you, so he focused on it, sucking and licking till it was bright red and your hips were rolling so violently he wasn’t sure how he kept his lips on you.

“In, please,” you choked out, tugging him by his shoulders to move back up. He wasn’t done yet.

“What? Ma fingers?” he toyed further, continuing his kisses everywhere but where you wanted him. “Hm?”

He brought his thumb up to your clit, pressing lightly at first, rubbing lazy, torturous circles. His lips were on the inside of your thigh, so close to your entrance but seemingly so far. He knew you wouldn’t take much more of this, you were practically sobbing above him blubbering nonsensical curses about how much you ached.

“This pretty cunt wanna be filled, that it?”

His thumb pressed firmer.

“Uh huh,” you nodded, begging him. Oh, that sound would surely be the death of him.

He finally brought his lips to your supposedly aching entrance, delving deep with his tongue. The noises he made as he lapped on your honey were flat-out pornographic, and you writhed below him, drinking everything he was giving to you. Honestly, he didn’t know how much more he could take. He wanted to draw this out for hours, make up for every bit of lost time but seeing you like this, so needy for him had his resolve shattering by the second.

With a final peck to your weeping folds, he crawled his way up back to your face. You latched on to him instantly, sensing his give and taking absolute advantage of your moment. His hips rolled into yours slowly as your tongues danced and he hardly had to guide himself with how wet you were, his tip finding your entrance easily and slipping past. You moaned rolling your hips again and he nearly bottomed out, a long deep groan ripping out of him. If he thought your lips were buttery, lord save him.

Perching himself on his forearms, he held still, watching for any signs of discomfort. He assumed you hadn’t been with anyone in a while and he certainly knew he wasn’t small, if he’d grace himself with any sort of compliment.

Sensing nothing but pleasure as your walls pulsed around him, sucking him in further, he gave, snapping his hips harshly into you. Your moans were lewd on his lips, traveling down his throat and feeding the fire that burned in the pit of his stomach.

“Fuck, y/n, baby,” he groaned again, spiraling from the fact he was actually inside you this time. Not in his hand, pretending you were fucking shower water.

No, you were beneath him, latching onto his muscles like your life depended on it. He drove deeper, hitting a spot that had you gasping for air. He hit it again, and again, needing to feel you explode around him. He watched as your face contorted in pleasure as he pounded into you. God, you looked so pretty like this. All cock-drunk and needy.

He brought his thumb back to that spot on your clit. He needed you to cum soon, he wasn’t gonna last much longer seeing you like this and there was no way in hell he was going to finish before you. Your hips stuttered beneath him, walls squeezing around him and he knew you were close.

“Come on, pretty girl, you got it,” he whispered in your ear, sucking the lobe gently between his teeth. That must’ve broken you, because then you were cursing, spasming for him which triggered his own orgasm. Your cunt milked him, his seed spilling down your thighs exactly how he had pictured earlier and it was a fucking sight. He honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he had imagined this whole thing.

He fucked out both through the waves of release, and a bit past, dropping his head into your neck to muffle the obscene groans coming from his lips. He didn’t want it to stop, but your overstimulated senses ached for reprieve.

“Dar?” you whispered once you'd both caught your breath, guiding his stubbled cheek from its hiding spot. When his eyes met yours, they were filled with so much adoration and happiness he had to hold himself back from whimpering. Never in a million years would he thought he’d get you, and here you were, looking at him like the sun shone out of his ass. The same way he looked at you for years, it was jarring to see it reciprocated. How had he missed it?

You leaned forward, tenderly capturing his lips with your own, soothing him as you always did. He knew there was so much you wanted to say, that he wanted to say, but you didn’t need to talk about it tonight. Tonight you would simply soak in each other, a gift you both thought you’d never get and one you would never let go.

He felt you giggle against his lips, and he pulled back with a lazy, fucked-out smile, "What?" he mumbled curiously.

"How's the headache now, big guy?" you teased playfully and he realized then, you'd known he was fibbing today. Saw right through his measly excuse to spend time with you.

He blushed to the tips of his ears, bowing his head to hide it, "Oh, shuddup," he mumbled, attacking your neck in kisses and nips.

Your cheeky ass was gonna pay for that tonight.

Daryl finds you hurt and alone

You kept your leg pressed against the door as the walker pounded on it. Your hand was pressed firmly against your shoulder. The blood was seeping through the shirt you had pressed against it staining it deep red. The door opened a little and you threw yourself against the door closing it again.

You should have stayed running. You should have stayed going you might have found a way out, or even a door with a damn lock. A door with a lock would have been amazing right now. But here you were, stuck in a janitors closet bleeding out, with no lock. It was the bleeding out thing that made you stop, you couldn’t stay going.

You were so tired, your body was sore and every now and then your vision would spin for a second or two.  So here you were stuck in a bloody broom closet four walkers outside the door and you with no way to kill them. You weren’t sure waiting them out would do, you weren’t sure you really had that in you.

You closed your eyes and sighed. ‘I’m sorry’ You whispered to the air. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t do this, I promised but I couldn’t do it’ The idiot you had been on a run with had started shooting up the place bringing walkers from every nook and cranny. There had been too much, you had exhausted your supply of weapons. 

Now you would end up walker chow.

You jumped as there was a thud outside the door. Then another. And another. You felt the pressure on the door begin to lessen. Then a fourth thud. And the groans were gone. Silence outside the door. There was someone there.

You pushed yourself off the ground. The world span and you stumbled falling against the wall. When everything went back to its rightful place you reached out opening the door.

It swung open and you were met by a pile of dean walkers. Each with an arrow through their head. You looked up. Your eyes landed on the most perfect man alive, at least at this moment.

Daryl Dixon.

You let a weary smile spread across your face. Daryl began to lower the bow he was holding against his shoulder. ‘Daryl’ You breathed putting your hand out leaning against the doorway. ‘Y/n, hell happened?’ He started forwards. You just smiled at him again before the world went dark

The bright light that was hanging above you forced you to keep them closed. You tried to roll over but you were constricted. Pain flared through your shoulder and you groaned. You tried to move you hand to cover you eyes from the light. A rope bit into your wrist. ‘Y/n?’ You had never heard so much fear in someone voice. ‘Say anytin, lemme know yer alri’ You wanted to talk but when you opened your mouth all that came out was a groan.

Your throat was dry and you couldn’t talk. You turned your head to the side to open your eyes but the glare off the light was still to harsh. You tugged on the ropes harder wiggling your hand to see if they’d come off. ‘I’m sorry’ You heard a whisper. ‘D-d’ You growled and you felt something press against your temple. A gun.

You began to struggle more. Pain flared through your shoulder but you were only concentrating on one thing, talking. You tried to croak out his name. ‘I shoulda got there sooner’ You hear the click of it being loaded. ‘M-me’ You groaned. ‘Da-daryl’ You felt the gun press harder into your temple.

And then it disappeared. ‘Y/n’ His voice was closer and you felt the bed you were lying on dip. ‘Say sometin else’ You cracked open an eye to see him leaning close. You felt a hand on your face as he brushed the hair off your face. ‘S’me’ You grunted. ‘Li-li-’ You nodded towards the bright light. 

His hand disappeared. ‘Hershel’ He called as the light clicked off. With the new darkness of the cell you were able to open your eyes. You were met with the sight of Daryl frantically untieing your hands. ‘We had te do it, just incase’ He glanced up at you. You nodded ‘Ah, nice to see you awake’ You looked to the door of your cell.

You tried to push yourself up but Daryl pushed you back down. ‘Not until you get the all clear’ He grumbled giving you a small rare smile. ‘Daryl, grab me some water?’ Hershel patted his shoulder. Daryl looked up at him shrinking from his touch. He nodded giving your hand a quick squeeze before leaving the cell.

Hershel looked back down at you. ‘You’ve been out about three days’ He nodded to the drip coming from your arm. ‘He’s been sitting in here everyday, as much as he can. Only left twice to grab some things for you and come back’ He told you as he checked you over. He furrowed those bushy white brows when he seen your shoulder. ‘You took a turn for the worst yesterday’ He leaned away from you. Then he was back with a needle and thread.

Daryl walked back in just as he was finishing stitching you wound again. ‘Blow a stitch?’ He asked with a flask of water in his hand. ‘Seems like it’ Hershel nodded to you. ‘She’ll need the water’ Daryl dropped to his knees beside you. ‘Take it easy for a week or two’ Hershel told you as Daryl helped you sit up. ‘Bedrest for at least two days’ You took the flask from Daryl and began to drink deeply.

You let out a long sigh licking you dry lips. ‘Thanks’ You croaked. Hershel was gone, he must have left when you were drinking the water. ‘Least I could do’ Daryl stood and sat on the edge of the bed facing you. ‘For what? You got me outs there, few seconds more and I wouldn’t be here’ You smiled up at him. He shrugged. ‘Few seconds earlier ye wouldn’t have been in there, That-’ He nodded towards your shoulder. ‘-wouldn’t have happened’  You shrugged with your good shoulder.

You leaned forwards and pressed your lips to his cheek. ‘Was perfect timing Daryl’ You whispered in his ear pressing another kiss to his cheek after your words. He gave you a shy smile when you pulled away. ‘Hershel said you stood guard’ He looked away . ‘And don’t give me the whole it was for the safety of the group thing’ You watched him shift.

He sighed and turned to you. ‘It had te be me, I had te put you down. I couldn’t let anyone else’ You nodded understanding. You had been with Daryl the longest, if it was anyone you would have wanted it to be him. ‘Thank you’ You took another gulp of water. ‘Thought I lost ye’ He looked away from you not wanting to show the vulnerability.

You reached out taking his hand in yours. ‘I ain’t dying Daryl, you ain’t that lucky’ He looked down at your hands as you chuckled at your joke. ‘Hope I never am’ He looked up at you. He reached his other hand out and wrapped it around the back of your neck.

He leaned forwards and pressed his lips to yours. It was a quick chaste kiss and he pulled away. He watched you a cautious look on his face. You let a small giggle fall from your lips. ‘If almost dying only got me that I don’t want to know what I have to do for a longer one’ Daryl smirked and leaned in again.

This time the kiss was longer and he held you tighter. You smiled when he pulled away. ‘Ye lost a lot eh blood, sleep’ He leaned up and pressed a kiss to your forehead his lips lingering on your skin. You nodded and he helped you to lie back down.

You turned over onto your good side. Daryl pushed your hair off your face and kissed your temple, the one he had pressed his gun to earlier. ‘Thank you’ You smiled at him. He nodded before sitting back down onto the floor on the other side of the cell.

He shot you one last smile before you closed your eyes very thankful Daryl had found you just in time.

Warnings: Soft!Daryl. Send help. "Mmm? What's that look?" you asked softly, stroking your fingers through Daryl's wavy hair. He looked so relaxed, reclined into the pillows with you tucked up against him, basking in the afterglow of a blissful evening alone together.

He shrugged, his fingers drawing idle circles on your bare shoulder. "Nothin'. Was just thinkin', ya know? I was lost before ya," he drawled, ducking his eyes for a moment. "And ya came walkin' in and... s'like ya just dropped love into my heart and that's all I need. Yer all I need."

You were overcome with emotion for a second watching this strong man, this badass warrior, this man who had been owed softness his entire life be so soft for you. Those words were the sweetest you'd ever heard. You pressed your palm flat to the center of his chest so you could feel his heartbeat beneath it. "Babe," you finally managed. "You're all I need too." He kissed you then, clasping your face delicately and trying to put every ounce of the feelings he had for you into it. In another moment, the two of you were completely lost in each other again. Prompt: "You came walking in and dropped love into my hear and that's all I need."

A/N: HELP this is so fucking wkerh;KHQS*T^PQ(@IRGKJBDA;EUIFH;bskjfgwe&@#T ugggggghhhh you know what I mean? lol

Daryl Dixon was always messy, let’s be honest. His room was mostly messy before the apocalypse, and so was his attitude. So let’s not be shocked when we find out he’s messy when eating you out. It’s disgusting, really. Lewd noises coming from your heat and your mouth. The tongue he used less than an hour ago to cuss someone out is now doing numbers on your cunt. He’s not stopping till you’re practically dumb just on his tongue.