madyb17

[madyb17]

[madyb17]

At Midnight

Summary: You wake up from a nightmare, and Daryl immediately soothes you. This is a softer side of him that is reserved for you.

Warnings/Tags: emotional hurt/comfort, established relationship, female reader (she/her), season seven, no use of y/n

Word count: 677 words

A/N: The prompt for this piece was created by @dixondisease. This was supposed to be posted yesterday for her account's anniversy, but I forgot. Even though I haven't posted any on this account, I love writing nightmare comfort fics!! I have written quite a few for many different characters. They were my favorite stories when I started reading fanfiction, which was about ten years ago. Anyway, enjoy a lighter piece <3.

You two had been sleeping peacefully when Daryl felt you start to shift beside him. You were whimpering softly and mumbling things that he couldn't quite understand. Your distress was obvious, and he woke up immediately. He pulled you closer and gently stroked your hair. You were shaking, and he could feel your damp skin.

“Shhh, you're okay. I got you, baby.”

Instinctively, you leaned into his touch, but your body was still tense. You were struggling to wake up, and Daryl could tell that you were deep in a nightmare. In an attempt to coax you out of that state, he kissed the top of your head and kept whispering.

“You're safe. It's just a dream, sweetheart. Wake up for me.”

You let out another small whine before your eyelids fluttered open, and you looked at Daryl. You'd started crying at some point, and you were still in a daze. For a moment, you glanced around your shared room as if you weren't sure where you were. You still weren't talking.

“It's okay, baby. We're in our home in Alexandria. You're here with me and I ain't lettin' nothin' happen to you.”

After a moment, you nodded and spoke softly. You were much more subdued than usual, and you still seemed a bit anxious. “Sorry. It felt like I was back there again.”

“I know, sweet girl. I know. You ain't there, though. You ain't never goin' back.

As he spoke, one hand was still stroking your hair, and the other had started rubbing gentle circles on your back. You'd had nightmares before, so he knew how to handle them. It never failed to make his chest ache, though. His girl was so fiery, and it was heartbreaking to see the fear in your eyes when you got like this.

You leaned into his touch and nodded slowly. The anxiety was still present, but Daryl's gentle care definitely lessened it. You always felt loved when he treated you like this - like you were something precious.

“I'm okay. Nothin' is gonna happen to me.”

Seeing that you were starting to calm down, he smiled softly and nodded back. “Exactly. I'm stayin' here with you and I ain't goin' nowhere.”

The panic had passed, and the wave of shame hit you. Even though Daryl always reassured you and had his own demons, you felt guilty. Your ex used to always complain that you were “too much”. You hadn't been with him in years, but his words had stuck with you.

“I'm sorry that you have to deal with me when I get like this. I should be over it by now.”

“Oh, sweetheart. You ain't gotta apologize for nothin'.”

Wanting to soothe you further, Daryl leaned closer and pressed soft kisses on various parts of your face. It always made you giggle when he did this, and tonight was no different. Your soft laughter filled the room, and it only encouraged him more.

You were squirming around, but it was obvious that you weren't making any real effort to get away from him. “Stop gettin' me. You're actin' like a crazy person.”

“Just for you, baby. Only for you.”

He'd stopped peppering your face with kisses, and you melted into his warm touch. You were still exhausted, and it would only be a matter of time before you were out again. Your eyelids were already feeling heavy.

Daryl could see the sleepy expression on your face, and he continued gently rubbing your back. His voice was always gruff, but it was much softer around his girl. He lay you back on his chest and made sure you were settled.

“Go back to sleep, sweetheart. I ain't want you bitchin' 'bout bein' tired when you're on watch tomorrow.”

Rolling your eyes at his teasing, you snuggled against his chest and gently kissed the underside of his jaw. You would've come up with a smartass response, but your body felt heavy with fatigue. Instead, you mumbled softly and closed your eyes.

“Thank you for bein' here with me.”

“Always.”

[madyb17]

okay so I follow Norman’s son on Instagram and today I got a notif that he REQUESTED TO FOLLOW ME BACK??? I immediately clicked it and it was gone so he obvi did it by accident. But I was dumb and didn’t take a screenshot so now I’m sad :(

[madyb17]

go read everything on this lovely gals account!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. Suckin

⌇daryl dixon x reader

summary⌇daryl sucking on your boobies man

warnings⌇smut with 0 plot, daryl sucking you boobies man that’s the whole plot

word count⌇0.3k

a/n⌇okay this is a short drabble i wrote like 3 nights ago i forgor to post

He sucked like it was the only thing that could make his brain shut up. Slow. Wet. Warm.

No urgency. No teasing. Just full, open mouthed worship. His lips wrapped around your nipple, tongue flicking softly, then laving slow circles like he had nowhere else to be.

Your hands tangled in his hair as your thighs clenched around nothing.

“Fuck, Daryl…”

He didn’t stop. He didn’t even look up. Just groaned deep in his throat and brought a hand up to squeeze your other breast, kneading like he was starving.

“You’re gonna make me come,” you breathed.

His voice was muffled, lips still latched:

“Good. Let me.”

You fell back against the pillows as he followed, still suckling, now straddling your thigh. You could feel his cock hard in his boxers, grinding slow against your leg with every groan.

He switched sides dragging his mouth across your chest to kiss and suck the other nipple, his hand still toying with the first.

He was lost.

“Y’feel so fuckin’ good,” he murmured against your skin. “Could do this all night. Don’t even care if we gotta do somethin’. Jus’ wanna taste you.”

Your hips rolled up instinctively, aching. Soaked.

“You’re so good to me,” you whispered.

He kissed the underside of your breast, licking a slow stripe up to your nipple before sucking it back into his mouth with a desperate sound.

And that’s how he stayed.

Hard. Throbbing. Moaning against your tits like a man drunk on heaven.

Just suckin’ ‘em.

Because he could.

Because he loved them.

Because he loved you.

tag list! @xx-lostgirl-xx @darylsdelts @ye-ooo @t-folklore13 @madyb17 @dead-sirens @theskinniestjackson-denny @littlelovingideas @angelically-yours

[madyb17]

could he get any more perfect???

HOLD UP! Norman quote about eating pussy?! WHAT HAVE I MISSED OUT ON, SHOW ME THE GOODS ✨

Hey Anon! Yes in a panel a few years back he was quoted as saying that he loves to eat a girl out… 

“Before… During.. After [sex]… Whenever…”

I had to dig for this but here is the quote Anon…

How fucking hot is that?!! This fucking man here…

Thanks for the ask! ;) 

[madyb17]

Real real real real real real real real real real real real real real real real real real

UGH he looks so pathetic in these i’m gonna cum.

[madyb17]

she gets it

[madyb17]

Someone needs to take my Spotify privileges away. I’ve listened to nettles by mother cain FOURTY FIVE times today. I also saw 2 daryl and Beth edits to it and almost killed myself 😜

Also guys send me requests! I don’t know what to write so help me I beg

[madyb17]

Stay - Alternate Ending

Summary: After running into a hostile group of scavengers, you were shot while covering for Daryl, and it nearly cost you your life.

Warnings/Tags: violence, gunshot wound, blood loss, near-death experience, trauma, HEAVY angst, canon level of gore, established relationship, female reader (she/her), season ten, no use of y/n

Word count: 1k

A/N: Here's my last post, but rewritten with a happy ending. Sorry for wrecking you all with the original piece. Just know that I do it out of love <3 For those asking for more Daryl angst, please be specific so I can write something for y'all.

The sound of gunfire splintered the air, and everything blurred around the two of you. This was supposed to be a simple supply run, but you had run into a hostile group. It was only you and Daryl, so things were getting dark fast. The couple had almost reached their cabin when there was another loud crack, and with you being in front of Daryl, you were hit by the stray.

You felt a sharp pain in your right side and cried out. Looking down, you saw the crimson blooming across your tank top and froze. “Oh shit.”

Hearing your pained gasp, Daryl spun you around so that he could look you over. He glanced down and saw the blood soaking your shirt. A cold sense of dread washed over him, and his eyes went wide.

“Fuck. No, no, no.”

“I don't know what to do, Daryl.”

You were taking labored breaths, and you were already starting to stumble. The shock was setting in fast, and Daryl was even more desperate to get you to safety. The last of the men was bound to find you two if you stayed where you were. Acting on pure instinct, he lifted you into his arms and started running again. He was careful not to drop you and clutched your body close to his chest.

“Stay with me, baby. You're okay. We're almost there.”

His words were rushed, and his voice was strained. It felt like it took hours, but you finally reached your home, and he made sure that it was clear of walkers. Daryl laid you on the couch and frantically tore your tank top to get a clearer view of the gunshot. It was deep, but it had a clear exit wound.

The blood was pouring from your abdomen, and he felt sick to his stomach at the sight of it. This was his girl, and she was bleeding out on their couch. Daryl used his hands to apply firm pressure, but the bleeding was relentless. Tears streamed down his face as he tried desperately to keep you with him.

“I got you, sweetheart. Just- just stay awake for me. You can do that, right?”

“I'm really tryin', but I'm tired. I'm so fuckin' tired, Daryl.”

“Don't say that. You're okay. I've got you.”

Daryl kept his palms pressed against your stomach and watched as the blood seeped through his fingers like water. He needed to stop the bleeding before he could even think about attempting to stitch you up. Knowing that he needed to do more, he took off his shirt and applied more force against the wound.

You were only growing paler, and your eyes kept fluttering shut. You were trying to be strong and keep them open, but it was increasingly becoming more difficult. The sight of his baby fading on him made his chest feel heavy. He couldn't give up, though.

“Hey, sweetheart. I need you to stay with me. Please. Talk or somethin'.”

Forcing your eyes open again, you nodded and let out a shaky exhale. “Okay. Can you tell me somethin' good?”

“Somethin' good?” It took him a moment, but he was able to think of something, and he smiled weakly. “Remember that trip we're supposed to take?”

“Yeah. You're gonna take me to Oceanside and we're gonna put our feet-” your words were cut off with a sharp gasp, but you pushed through and kept speaking softly. “Our feet in the water. Dog's comin' with us.”

Daryl's heart ached hearing how hard it was for you to speak, but he was proud of you for trying. You were making an effort to stay with him - that was all that he could ask for.

“Yeah, baby. We're all goin' to the beach. You ain't gettin' in the water, though. Your dumb ass ain't never learned to swim.”

His words were teasing, but his tone was forced. He was grasping at straws to keep you awake. Daryl looked back down at the wound to see that the bleeding had slowed, and he let out a small sigh of relief. You had lost an alarming amount of blood, but he was able to sew the wound shut.

Making sure that you were at least half-conscious, he let go of the shirt and reached over to grab the first aid kit that was already laid out on the table. Thankfully, you had left it out the last time that Daryl got injured.

“You ain't leavin' me tonight, alright? You fuckin' stay with me. This is gonna hurt like a bitch, but you're my strong girl.”

“I ain't feelin' strong. I'm so tired.”

“Shhh, I got you. You're okay, baby.”

If the situation were less dire, he would've given you something to bite down on, but he knew that you'd likely pass out as soon as he started the process. He took a deep breath to steady his hands and disinfected the wound. Daryl's movements were hurried and not as careful as he would've liked, but there was no time for caution.

Once the area was clean, he took a fresh needle, some thread, and a pair of medical pliers. He took a deep breath and pushed the needle into the jagged edges of your skin. You cried out once before your eyes rolled back, and you went limp. Trying not to lose his shit, he checked your pulse and made sure that it was still present. To his relief, it was.

Daryl kept stitching until the wound was closed, and he sat back to look over his work. The stitches weren't the cleanest, but it was enough. As the adrenaline faded, he let out a shaky breath and started to cry. He usually didn't allow himself to be weak, but this was his baby, and she had almost died on him.

As silent tears streamed down his face, he lifted a bloody hand and gently stroked your hair. Your blood had caked his skin, but he couldn't bring himself to care. You were alive, and that was enough for him. He kept his hand on your head and whispered a promise.

“I love you so fuckin' much. You're okay, baby. Ain't ever gonna let you go.”

[madyb17]

Stay

Summary: After running into a hostile group of scavengers, you were shot while covering for Daryl, and the consequences are devastating.

Warnings/Tags: violence, gunshot wound, blood loss, trauma, HEAVY angst, canon level of gore, there is no happy ending, death, established relationship, female reader (she/her), season ten, no use of y/n

Word count: 1.6k words

A/N: I deeply apologize for the heartache that I'm about to put y'all through. I was going to spare you guys from the ending scene, but bestie Kayla (@b1eedthefreak) said to keep it in. I've been getting requests for more angst, so I've been writing more. I am so happy that y'all are loving these. Please keep the requests coming. The support from you all has brought me so much joy. Oh, and before anyone loses their shit, I will be posting this piece rewritten with a happy ending. Additional note - I was listening to “Rock That Body” by Black Eyed Peas. Do with that what you will.

The sound of gunfire splintered the air, and everything blurred around the two of you. This was supposed to be a simple supply run, but you had run into a hostile group. It was only you and Daryl, so things were getting dark fast. The couple had almost reached their cabin when there was another loud crack, and with you being in front of Daryl, you were hit by the stray.

You felt a sharp pain in your right side and cried out. Looking down, you saw the crimson blooming across your tank top and froze. “Oh shit.”

Hearing your pained gasp, Daryl spun you around so that he could look you over. He glanced down and saw the blood soaking your shirt. A cold sense of dread washed over him, and his eyes went wide.

“Fuck. No, no, no.”

“I don't know what to do, Daryl.”

You were taking labored breaths, and you were already starting to stumble. The shock was setting in fast, and Daryl was even more desperate to get you to safety. The last of the men was bound to find you two if you stayed where you were. Acting on pure instinct, he lifted you into his arms and started running again. He was careful not to drop you and clutched your body close to his chest.

“Stay with me, baby. You're okay. We're almost there.”

His words were rushed, and his voice was strained. It felt like it took hours, but you finally reached your home, and he made sure that the perimeter was clear of walkers. Daryl laid you on the couch and frantically tore your tank top to get a clearer view of the gunshot. It was deep. Really fucking deep. There was no exit wound, but he tried to maintain some semblance of hope.

The blood was pouring from your abdomen, and he felt sick to his stomach at the sight of it. This was his girl, and she was bleeding out on their couch. Daryl used his hands to apply firm pressure, but the bleeding was relentless. Tears streamed down his face as he tried desperately to keep you with him.

“I got you, sweetheart. Just- just stay awake for me. You can do that, right?”

“I'm really tryin', but I'm tired. I'm so fuckin' tired, Daryl.”

“Don't say that. You're okay. I've got you.”

Daryl kept his palms pressed against your stomach and watched as the blood seeped past his fingers like water. He needed to stop the bleeding before he could even think about attempting to stitch you up. Knowing that he needed to do more, he took off his shirt and applied more force against the wound.

You were only growing paler, and your eyes kept fluttering shut. You were trying to be strong and keep them open, but it was increasingly becoming more difficult. The sight of his baby going out on him made his chest feel heavy. He couldn't give up, though.

“Hey, sweetheart. I need you to stay with me. Please. Talk or somethin'.”

Forcing your eyes open again, you nodded and let out a shaky exhale. “Okay. Can you tell me somethin' good?”

“Somethin' good?” It took him a moment, but he was able to think of something, and he smiled weakly. “Remember that trip we're supposed to take?”

“Yeah. You're gonna take me to Oceanside and we're gonna put our feet-” your words were cut off with a sharp gasp, but you pushed through and kept speaking softly. “Our feet in the water. Dog's comin' with us.”

Daryl's heart ached hearing how hard it was for you to speak, but he was proud of you for trying. You were making an effort to stay with him - that was all that he could ask for.

“Yeah, baby. We're all goin' to the beach. You ain't gettin' in the water, though. Your dumb ass ain't never learned to swim.”

His words were teasing, but his tone was forced. He was grasping at straws to keep you awake. Daryl looked back down at the wound to see that the bleeding hadn't stopped. Your breath kept hitching, and the pit in his stomach grew. The shirt was soaked in your blood, and his forearms were caked in it - there was no fixing this. He didn't want to stop, but it was clear that his efforts were in vain.

Making eye contact with his girl again, exhaustion was written all over her face. The most that Daryl could do now was make you comfortable. Taking a shaky breath, he removed his hands from the fabric and gently stroked your cheek. The tears continued to flow.

Seeing your usually stoic boyfriend cry and the heartbreak in his gaze, you reached up to gently swipe some tears from his face. Your movements were weak, but it was obvious that you were doing your best to comfort him. You gave him a small smile and spoke again, your voice strained.

“Shhh, it's okay, my love.”

“No, don't try to comfort me. Not when you're dyin' in my fuckin' arms.”

His voice was rough and his tone was harsh, but it was obvious that he was devastated. Daryl couldn't stop crying, and his chest felt tight. Too tight. He knew that he needed to be strong for you, but he struggled to pull it together. He couldn't even speak through the sobs, so he resorted to gently stroking your cheek. Needing to be closer to you, he sat on the couch beside you and pulled you into his lap. He had never felt pain like this, and he could feel something breaking deep inside of him.

The sight of Daryl breaking down almost hurt more than the gunshot itself. His holding you was a small comfort, but you were still quickly fading. Your breathing continued to slow, and your eyes kept closing. You forced them back open and attempted to keep talking. Wiping his cheek again, you let your hand rest on the side of his face.

“I love you so fuckin' much, you know that right? Lovin' you is the only thing that I've gotten right.”

That only served to make him sob harder, and Daryl felt like a part of him was dying with you. He took ragged breaths and spoke through the tears. “I love you, sweetheart. More than anythin'. I'm so sorry that I ain't able to fix this.”

“You can't fix everythin', Daryl. This- this was bound to happen. I'm just glad that you're here with me.”

“Are you in any pain, baby?”

You felt a bit cold, but you couldn't feel the wound anymore. That only meant one thing - you were almost there. You shook your head and gently stroked his unshaven jaw. It was harder for you to speak, and your answers had been reduced to just a few words at a time. “No pain.”

Your answer confirmed what he already knew: he was losing his baby. By some miracle, Daryl was able to compose himself, and his tears slowed. He managed to keep the tremor in his voice to a minimum. He didn't want you worrying about him in your final moments.

“That's good. I ain't want you to hurt. You want me to keep talkin'?”

Your eyelids flittered again, and you gave him a small nod. You were too drained to speak at this point, and your breathing was almost imperceptible. Your pupils were dilated, and it was hard for you to concentrate. You were listening to him, though.

“Remember when we came back from dinner the other night and Dog had torn up a few of our couch pillows? The little shit was waggin' his tail and everythin'. Thought he'd done somethin' real good. You nearly pissed your pants laughin' so hard, and that only encouraged him more.”

Your lips curved in a small smile, but your gaze had started to lose focus. It was only a matter of minutes now, and the idea of that made Daryl feel hollow. He kept talking and absentmindedly stroked your cheek, though.

“Oh, remember the time when he brought that injured little bird into the house and you were hysterical? You thought that I was so mean for laughin'. I felt like a total asshole, but you're cute when you get like that. You've got the biggest heart.”

Daryl kept rambling until he felt your chest still, and he glanced down to see that your lips were parted slightly. The eyes that he always got lost in were still open, but they lacked their usual light. You were gone.

“I love you, sweet girl.”

Openly sobbing now, Daryl whispered softly and used his fingertips to gently close your eyes. He was absolutely shattered, and he hadn't even reached the hardest part yet. He knew what he had to do, but he was trying to prolong the inevitable. Before the next step, he leaned his face down and gently kissed your lips. They were already slightly cooler than usual, and their pretty pink color had faded.

You wouldn't have wanted to turn, and he owed you this small bit of mercy. He waited a few moments before grabbing your revolver that was lying on the coffee table and pressing it to your temple. Daryl screwed his eyes shut, took a shaky breath, and pulled the trigger.

The sound reverberated around the small room, and it was accompanied by his harsh sobs. His whole body was wracked with the force of them. Daryl slowly rocked your limp form like a child and whispered unkept promises to you throughout the night.

Once the sun had risen, Carol found you two like that. She had come over to see why Daryl hadn't been answering her on the old police radio - she got her answer.

[madyb17]

Evil

Do you guys think this is accurate to his character? I feel like I struggle with that, let me know! listened to nettles by ethel cain while editing this because it’s consumed my whole life🐞

The house is quiet. Windows cracked open. A breeze drifts in, warm and lazy, rustling the curtains and brushing across the sweat dampened skin of two people who’ve finally found a moment of peace. Daryl’s sunk deep into the couch, legs spread, chest bare. His hair’s damp from a quick rinse. He smells like cedar, smoke, and him. And she’s straddling his lap. Wearing only one of his old flannels, sleeves rolled up, nothing underneath, the curve of her breast on slight display. His hands are shaking on her hips. She leans in close, brushes her lips over the shell of his ear, voice like honey.

“Just relax, baby. I’ve got you.”

He groans, soft, helpless. She sinks down on him slow, aching around him. His head tips back against the couch. His hands tremble. She moves slow. Gentle. Torturously sweet. Rolling her hips like she’s savoring it. Like she knows exactly what she’s doing. And Daryl, older now, stiffer in his joints, rougher around the edges can’t handle it. Not when she’s smiling at him like that. Not when she’s all heat and silk and whispered love. He has a bruising grip on her hips, coaxing her movements. “Don’t stop,” she purrs, breath hot against his jaw. “You feel so good, baby. Let me take care of you.”

That’s what undoes him. The softness. The way she says baby. The fact that she’s got him, riding him in the golden hush of a Sunday afternoon, so confident, so loving so his. His thighs lock. His jaw goes slack. He gives one more broken, desperate thrust. And he comes, hard. Mumbling her name incoherently. She kisses the corner of his mouth, still moving gentle, rocking him through it while he pants, completely wrecked “…shit,” he mutters, throat raw. She grins against his cheek. “Didn’t even last five minutes.” He groans. “That’s ‘cause you’re evil.” She laughs and lays on top of him, both of them sticky and glowing and warm. Her fingertips trace the lines on his chest, and his hand rubs up and down her thigh like he can’t stop touching her.

But then he shifts. Rolls her underneath him. His breath is still uneven, his voice low and gravelly when he mutters.”M gonna make it up to you right now.” She opens her mouth to tease him again, but he’s already moving down her body, already kissing his way between her thighs like a starved man. One hand locking her thigh in place. The other tangling with hers. Like he needs to hear her break the same way she just shattered him. And when she does. He smiles into her skin like it’s the only thing that’s ever made sense.

[madyb17]

Learning to Breathe Again

Summary: Daryl and you have to cross a freezing river to escape a herd. You get pulled under, and he has to fight to bring you back.

Warnings/Tags: hypothermia, drowning, descriptions of performing CPR, near-death experience, trauma, HEAVY angst, established relationship, female reader (she/her), season ten, no use of y/n

Word count: 1k words

A/N: I warned y’all that I like writing angst in my introduction post, and I delivered. Also, this is my first time writing in almost five years, and I'm still getting into the groove of things. Don't say anything if it's ass lmao. I promise that I will get better as I keep writing. Thank you @b1eedthefreak for being so sweet and encouraging me to post this. I would’ve been way too nervous on my own. Sorry for this being fucking depressing.

As the herd was closing in, the couple approached the river, and Daryl knew what you guys had to do. He understood that you were not a strong swimmer, and he was reasonably concerned, but you had no choice. The two of you needed to cross before it was too late.

“Baby, we gotta cross.”

Your facial expression immediately turned into one of panic, and Daryl instinctively grabbed your hand. He could tell that you were afraid of crossing, but there was no other option.

“We ain't have a choice. They're closin' in and I ain't losin' you to the dead. You trust me, yeah?”

Taking a deep breath, you nodded and focused on his eyes. The fear was written all over your face, and you were trying your damndest not to shut down. You knew that you couldn't swim well and the idea of having to travel through the river had you scared shitless.

“I trust you, but I'm fuckin' terrified.”

“I know, sweet girl. I know. We have to move now, though. Just keep holdin' my hand.”

Daryl was speaking softly to keep his girl calm, but his tone held a sense of urgency. The walkers were getting closer, and it was only a matter of time before they reached the pair.

Not bothering to wait for your response, he kept holding your hand and pulled you into the river. The icy sting of the freezing water hit you guys fast, and it was a cold that could be felt in your bones. Both of your bodies were shivering, and it was so frigid that it was almost painful. He could tell that you were still nervous, so he continued offering gentle reassurances.

“You're doin' so good, baby. We're almost there. Just keep goin'.”

You had made it halfway across the river before the unexpected happened, and you were pulled under. Daryl tried to maintain his tight hold on your hand, but his grip faltered. You were submerged in the water, and he no longer had eyes on you. Ignoring the heavy chill, he took a deep breath and dove into the water. He could hardly see, but he felt around until his hand brushed against the fabric of your shirt.

He grabbed on and pulled you to him. His girl felt heavier, and it was taking all of his strength to get you both to the surface. Finally, Daryl was able to get his head above water, and he lifted you to allow you to get some air. You were coughing and gasping, but you kept slipping under. He fought hard to keep his hold on you, but he was quickly losing strength.

“Fuck. Baby, c'mon.”

Daryl continued to tug you up every time that you disappeared beneath the water, and he was moving the two of you the entire time. His vision started to go black around the edges, but he pushed on. After what felt like forever, you finally reached the riverbank. He hauled both of you onto land. He coughed and tried to catch his breath. He was exhausted, but he couldn't let himself fall asleep. Not yet.

After taking a few seconds to steady himself, he realized that you were eerily quiet, and he looked over at you. You were completely still, and Daryl felt the weight of dread build in his chest. He quickly sat up and moved over to you.

“No, no, no. Sweetheart, can you hear me?”

There was no response, and he panicked. Reaching over, he frantically shook your shoulder and waited for a reaction. Your face remained slack, and he saw that your chest was unmoving. Your lips had also taken on a bluish tint. Quickly, he moved you flat on your back and checked your pulse. There was nothing.

He had never performed CPR before, but he had seen it done. With shaking hands, he interlaced his fingers and pressed his palms against the center of your chest. He wasn't even sure if he was doing it correctly, but he was putting all of his remaining energy into the rhythmic chest compressions. The forest was quiet, save for the sound of Daryl's ragged breaths and his soft muttering.

“Breathe, baby. C'mon. Don't you fuckin' do this to me.

He was rambling, but he had never felt fear like this before. Daryl Dixon had fought walkers, experienced his fair share of loss, and been tortured. Nothing compared to the terror and adrenaline filling his body as his hands thudded against his baby's chest. The audible cracking of your ribs made him feel sick to his stomach, but he couldn't afford to quit now.

“I need you, baby. Please breathe. You gotta take a breath.”

At some point, he had started crying, and he could feel the hot tears as they ran down his face. His muscles were strained, and his whole body was shaking from the cold. Daryl was a stubborn motherfucker and he had no intensions of stopping. Continuing to press down on your chest, he remembered that he also needed to breathe for you.

Pausing compressions, he tipped your head back and made sure that your airway was clear. He then put his lips over yours and gave two quick breaths. Your chest rose slightly, but it was obvious that it was only because of Daryl's actions. His body was trembling, and he couldn't stop his teeth from chattering, but he refused to stop. Placing his hands back on your chest, he began chest compressions again and kept begging you to stay.

“Baby, you need to take a breath. Please, sweetheart. Just one.”

He gave you another round of rescue breaths and waited for something to happen. After what felt like hours, but was likely only a minute, you finally started coughing. As the water spilled from your mouth, Daryl quickly rolled you onto your side and gently rubbed your back. He was still sobbing and shaking, but it was out of relief.

“There's my girl. You're okay, baby. Just breathe. I got you.”

[madyb17]

not my usual ‘silly post’ but this has to be talked and i will not apologize for speaking for my people

the Mexicans getting deporting from the United States because they “didn’t do it legally” is a complete JOKE. a week ago, a Mexican women in San Antonio, Texas went to her court hearing. immediately after she walked out of court, ICE was waiting for her outside the court. [click for video] it was never about doing it ‘legally” this is RACISM. BLATANT racism. everyone needs to stop being quiet about what’s happening and brushing it off as “oh they are illegal criminals” when they’re NOT! INNOCENT Mexican AMERICANS are being arrested. U.S citizens with documents are being taken away and sent to countries they aren’t even from. people say deportation is to ‘keep the country free from criminals’, when we all know that is FAR from the truth. a 9 year old boy, Martir Garcia Lara was stopped in California while going to SCHOOL by immigration control. [click here for link] 9 years old. going to school is a ‘criminal’ ? ICE raiding ELEMENTARY schools is ‘keeping the country safe’ ? NO! immigrants make America great. what’s happening is REAL. speak up! your voice matters!

[madyb17]

Crush

Daryl Dixon is so crush by ethel cain. As in he looks like he works with his hands and smells like Marlboro reds. Someone sedate me I’m so in love with him🫠🐞

They’ve been teasing each other all day. Soft brushes of fingers. That knowing look in her eyes. The way she stood too close in the kitchen, whispering something in his ear just to watch him stiffen. He looks like he works with his hands and it drives her nuts. Daryl’s tried to keep it together. He always does. For her. He doesn’t want to hurt her, never wants to be too much. But tonight, when she climbs into his lap on the couch and kisses him like she’s starving, something breaks. She smiles against his mouth. “You don’t have to be so careful, y’know. His hands tighten at her waist. “Ain’t about careful.” “Then what is it?” He doesn’t answer. Just kisses her hard, standing up with her in his arms. She wraps her legs around him, laughing breathlessly into his neck as he carries her to the bedroom.

When he sets her down, there’s something different in his eyes, darker. Hungrier. But it’s not detached. It’s not cold. It’s him. Still him. Just… unleashed. He kisses her rougher this time, less controlled. His hand threads into her hair, his mouth claiming hers like he can’t get enough. “All day,” he mutters against her jaw. “You been drivin’ me crazy.” She grins, tugging at his shirt. The one that smells like Marlboro reds “Good.” He laughs, breathless, like he can’t believe her. And then they’re a mess of tangled limbs, clothes hitting the floor fast, hot skin pressed to skin.

This time, he flips her onto her stomach. Not hard. Not forceful. Just firm. Decisive. She gasps when his hand slides up her spine, when his mouth presses hot kisses to the back of her neck. “Still okay?” he asks, voice low, shaky. She nods. “Yes. Daryl, yes.” He mumbles something under his breath and presses inside her in one smooth, deep stroke. And this time, he doesn’t hold back. He sets a rhythm fast and deep, one hand gripping her hip, the other tangled in her hair, anchoring himself to her body like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. She gasps, moans, arches back into him and that breakshim. He groans, head dropping to her shoulder.

She’s falling apart beneath him. Shaking. Crying out his name like it’s sacred. Every sound she makes drives him harder, deeper, faster. But he’s still watching. Always watching. Fingers brushing her ribs, soothing her in between thrusts. His mouth finds the curve of her shoulder and he kisses her there. And when she starts to come, his grip tightens and his rhythm falters. “Come on, girl—fuck, just like that—” He presses deeper one last time, groaning her name into her neck as he falls with her, their bodies shaking together in the aftermath.

When it’s over, he doesn’t pull away. Just wraps his arms around her and holds her from behind, their breaths tangled, hearts pounding. She turns her face to find him. “That was…” He looks like he might apologize. But she cuts him off, kissing him gently. “That was perfect.” He nods slowly. “Didn’t mean to—y’know. Just… needed you.” “I know,” she whispers. “Me too.” And that’s the night he learns she doesn’t just handle his rough edges, she wants them. And he doesn’t have to hold them in anymore.

[madyb17]

Sunshine and skin

this is from literal months ago and I just finished it now 🐞

The morning was still. Quiet, golden.

She stirred first, blinking in the warm light spilling through the window. Daryl was behind her, one arm wrapped loosely around her waist. She could feel his steady breath on the back of her neck, slow and deep, still lost in sleep. She smiled small, sleepy her fingers tracing over the hand on her stomach. His calloused palm twitched at her touch, then curled a little tighter, instinctively drawing her closer.

“You awake?” she whispered, barely a breath. He didn’t answer, but his nose nuzzled into her hair. His hand slid up, splaying over her ribs beneath the fabric of her shirt,  his shirt, oversized and soft from age against her skin. That was answer enough. She turned in his arms, careful not to pull away from the warmth. His eyes opened slowly, hazy blue and heavy-lidded. He looked at her like he wasn’t sure if he was still dreaming. “Mornin’,” he rasped, voice rough from sleep.

“Hi,” she murmured, brushing his hair from his forehead. “Sleep okay?” He nodded, but he didn’t say anything else. Just leaned in, pressing a slow kiss to her mouth. One that didn’t need anything but closeness.

The kiss deepened naturally, gently. His hand slid over her waist, up her back, pulling her in. She let herself sink into it, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck, their noses brushing. It was sweet. So sweet. Soft lips and slow sighs, the kind of closeness that came from safety. From love. When he rolled over her, it wasn’t rushed. Just instinct. Their bodies fit like they always had. Her thighs invited him in. He slid her shirt up without a word, kissed every inch of skin he uncovered, her ribs, her collarbone, the soft underside of her breast. 

“You’re so pretty in the morning,” she whispered, watching the sunlight dapple across his shoulders. “Shut up” he grumbled teasingly. He blushed. She felt it. The warmth in his face. But he didn’t look away just lined himself up and eased into her with a low groan. His head was resting in the space between her collarbone and neck. Too overwhelmed to do anything else. They moved slow. No rush. Just lazy morning touches, quiet sounds, hands exploring familiar places like they were brand new. Daryl whispered things he normally couldn’t in daylight—how good she smelled, how good she felt, how he never wanted to leave this bed.

He let out a low grown into her neck as he came, soft and trembling into her, her lips brushed his cheek. “You okay?” she asked gently, even though she already knew. He nodded against her, breath catching. “Ain’t ever been better.” After, they stayed curled together beneath the covers. Her back to his chest. His arm slung over her waist again. This time, awake.

[madyb17]

Too fast

in which daryl dixon struggles with finishing too fast.

I’ve edited this a thousand times and I think this is as good as it’s gonna get, tell me what you think🐞

The bedroom’s half dark, moonlight washing over the sheets, tangled clothes left in a trail to the bed. She’s on her back, legs spread, eyes heavy lidded and lips swollen, already slick and flushed from his mouth on her. Daryl kneels between her thighs, chest rising hard and fast, fingers trembling just slightly as he traces the scar on her rib cage. He’s been trying to take it slow he always tries but some nights?

Some nights she ruins him.

Her voice is soft but teasing. “You gonna do something or just stare?” He exhales sharply through his nose, jaw clenched. “Keep talkin’, girl,” he mumbles, but his hand falters. Her skin’s glowing, her eyes locked on him, and her scent does more to him than he’d like to admit. “Jesus,” he mutters, chest heaving. He leans forward, hips aligning but the second he brushes against her skin, her body arches, soaking and greedy, and his control teeters.

“Shit—” he mutters, pulling back. Fast. Too fast.

She blinks, breath catching. “What are you doin’?” Daryl shifts back, kneeling again on his heels, hand tight around himself. Not moving. Trying to breathe. “Gimme a second,” he mumbles, eyes darting anywhere but her. Then he hears it, that smirk in her voice.

“You okay, old man?” she teases sweetly, brushing hair off her face, trying so hard not to laugh.

Daryl lifts his head, eyes dark and slow-burning. There’s something dangerous in the way he licks his lips. “Oh, you think that’s funny?” She bites her lip, still smiling. “A little.” Next thing she knows, he’s grabbing her thighs, flipping her onto her stomach with a force only lust could create and pulling her hips up until her ass is in the air, spine curved, breath gone. He leans down presses a kiss to her shoulder and brushes her hair over her shoulder to her a better view of her face. 

And then he’s inside her in one deep, punishing thrust no more waiting, no more teasing. She gasps, hands fisting in the sheets, body jolting forward from the force of it. He fucks her hard, deep, relentless mumbling in her ear, about her smell, how soft her skin is, how much he missed her. One hand gripping her hip, the other sneaking around to turn her head to kiss him. Her soft sounds only motivate him more. 

“Still think I’m old?” he pants. She tries to speak. Can’t. He chuckles low, drunk on the feel of her. “Didn’t think so.” And when she comes, shuddering and gasping into the mattress, he finally lets go body trembling, buried deep, voice ragged in her ear “you’ll never understand what you do to me”. 

[madyb17]

okay so I’m putting myself out there because I need to, I used to epically write fanfiction from 2020-2022 but sorta lost that want to write. I watched the walking dead last year and Its been my hyperfixation since, especially daryl dixon (anyone who looks at my blog can tell 😜). Recently I’ve been trying to kick it back up again and I’m only posting this because my lovely best friend dulce told me it was good! Give me tips I beg 🐞

a short daryl dixon blurb, been obsessed with Polaroids lately :)

Polaroids 

It was a warm night, windows cracked open just enough to let the breeze in. The only light came from the bedside lantern, casting a golden hue across the sheets. They’d barely made it through dinner, Daryl had watched her lick pie filling off her thumb and he was done for.

Now her thighs were open beneath him, wrapped around his waist, ankles hooked loosely behind his back. His chest hovered just above hers, their bodies flushed and tangled. Slow, deep thrusts drawing shaky gasps from both of them.

He was buried deep. Holding still. Needing to give himself a break before he finished embarrassingly quick.

His forehead rested against hers for a long beat, their breath mingling in that quiet, ruined way.

Then she whispered, lips brushing his cheek, “You keep lookin’ at me like that.”

He blinked. Pulled back just enough to really see her.

She was glowing, cheeks pink, eyes half-lidded and glossy. Her hair was a mess again, strands splayed across the pillow. Her mouth was parted, still swollen from his kisses, and her chest rose and fell with each desperate inhale.

His hands slid to her hips, grounding himself in the way her body pulsed around him. And then, without thinking he leaned over, grabbed the Polaroid camera from the nightstand, and sat up.

He muttered her name, voice tight and low.

She looked up at him, confused at first then caught the way he held the camera above them, angled downward.

“Daryl,” she breathed, breath catching.

“I wanna remember this,” he said. No shame. No teasing. Just honesty.

She didn’t answer. Just tilted her hips up slightly, chest arching toward him, silently giving permission.

He took the photo while still inside her, his body between her legs, her thighs framing the shot, her breasts rising toward the lens. Her face flushed, eyes hazy, one hand tangled in the sheets.

Click. Whirr.

The camera gave its little mechanical hum, and the photo slowly slipped out.

Daryl placed it gently on the nightstand without looking at it. His hands returned to her body, fingers gripping her thighs again like he needed them to breathe.

And then he moved.

It was slow at first. Deep. His mouth found hers again, and she moaned into him soft and desperate. Every thrust now felt different. Like the photo had frozen something sacred in time, and now they were building on it. Breaking into something even more raw.

She clung to him. Called his name. Told him she loved the way he looked at her.

He didn’t say a word.

He just kept moving. Worshiping. And later, when she was fast asleep across his chest, he reached for the Polaroid with shaking hands.

He stared at it for a long time, heart hammering.

Then he slid it behind another photo he had taken of her in his bedside table, as a reminder of everything they had given each other.