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justanoasisimagines · 5 months

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I don’t want to sleep alone - Preference-Set A

Warnings; Mentions of anxiety and past trauma, typical canon violence. Requests are open! Guidlines are pinned at the top of my page A/N; Part two will be up in a few days! So if you don't see your favourite character here, they might be in Part 2 Credit to @cafekitsune for the divider and banner

Rick Grimes; The two of you nearly died after an encounter with the Saviours. Both of you are dragging your feet, both physically and mentally exhausted. When you turn to head towards your bed for the night, Rick stops you. He te;;s you he nearly lost you today and he doesn't want to sleep without you. Taking hold of his hand, you ask him which bedroom. He leads you toward his room because in Rick's opinion, your bed is like sleeping on concrete.

Abraham Ford; Ever since the two of you started getting serious, Abraham began to fear losing you. It comes from losing his wife and children. One thing is for certain he refuses to let that happen. This leads to Abraham asking you if you want to stay the night or insisting you two sleep close to each other for safety. Abraham wants to hold you close to reaffirm your there. It does begin to ease his anxiety when you agree.

Shane Walsh; It's you who tells Shane you don't want to sleep without him. The new world is ferocious, unpredictable, and deadly. Shane has adapted to the new world quickly, without question. So it makes sense for the two of you to share a space. Shane accepts because he doesn't like the idea of you being so far away from him when anything could happen.

Father Gabriel Stokes; Before the dead rose, Gabriel couldn't imagine sleeping with anyone whom he hadn't married. It was a sin in his eyes. The realization death is around the corner for anyone forces Gabriel to realise he doesn't want to miss out on these experiences with you. Gabriel eventually picks up the courage and expresses his feelings, you made sure he's adamant before agreeing.

Merle Dixon; Merle doesn't want to sleep without you. For a couple of reasons; one he doesn't like waking up alone. He wants to wake up with your bodies pressed together. Secondly, if Merle was being completely honest with himself, he doesn't trust anyone in Woodbury, There's no way in hell someone's going to hurt you while he's around. He'd gladly die trying to protect you.

Luke; Luke doesn't want to sleep without you. He feels like it's the next natural stage within your relationship. Living together, sharing a bed etc. Luke is grateful the two of you have found each other. It's only natural he wants to progress your relationship as normal as possible. For Luke, sharing a bed feels like the next step.

Siddiq; Siddiq is shaken from his encounter with the Whisperers. He's never been more terrified of dying before. He's struggling to adapt back to real life, constantly dealing with nightmares When you make the suggestion, Siddiq agrees. He'd thought he'd never see you again. He considers your warm embrace will help him sleep through the night again

Eugene Porter; Eugene is taken aback when you tell him you don't to sleep without him. He can't fathom why you would want to share a bed with him. His reaction is adamant, of course, he does. The entire interaction is awkward, soft and endearing as you both decide who's bed to share.

Benjamin; Benjamin never expected to fall in love. Never expected to find someone in the apocalypse, but he has. He's lying in bed one night, tossing and turning, struggling to sleep. His feet instinctively head him in the direction of your room. When he knocks, you are half asleep. He blurts out he doesn't want to sleep alone. You reply by opening the door wider and allowing him in

Beta; Beta insists you don't sleep alone. Living outside with the Whisperers is dangerous, there's danger at every turn. Beta hasn't cared in the past. When you two get together. things change. Suddenly, he's scared to lose someone. There is someone in his life that he wants to protect. So he insists you two sleep side by side.

Theodore "T-Dog" Douglas; When everyone's sorting out sleeping accommodations in the prison. You surprise him when you tell him you don't want to sleep alone. T-Dog immediately goes in search of a comfortable place for you to sleep. It's nice at the end of the end of the day, to know he's going to fall asleep with you in his arms.

Alden; You and Alden are sitting together reading, your eyes drooping, struggling to stay awake. Alden makes the suggestion you go to bed. However, you refuse telling Alden you don't want to sleep without him. Alden smiles, he truly adores it when you're sleepy and completely honest. Alden replies with you don't have to. Alden leads you up to his room.

Justin; Justin doesn't want to sleep without you through jealousy. He doesn't like the way Daryl's been staring at you. He wants to remind everyone, especially Daryl who you come back to after your day has finished. Who keeps you warm on those cold nights

Noah; Things are always tense in the hospital. There's always some politics going around. Noah's favourite part of the hospital is you. You two are hanging out, when Noah brings it up. He doesn't want to sleep alone, because its time he could have spent with you. The sentiment is sweet and when you agree, Noah asks you which side you prefer.

Jerry; You come to Jerry in the middle of the night, tears running down your face, pain-stricken. Immediately Jerry opens up his arms, embracing you. Jerry sets into consoling you. The world is harsh and cruel and even the strongest people break. When you tell Jerry, you don't want to sleep without him, he tells you you don't have to because he's right here.

Axel; Axel struggles to get accustomed to the harsh reality of the world. You are the best thing to come out of it. Companionship, patience, love. So when you come into his cell asking to sleep with him, he scoots to the side, pulling back the blanket. He tells you, you don't have to ask. He'll protect you from the nightmares.

Gareth; Axel struggles to get accustomed to the harsh reality of the world. You are the best thing to come out of it. Companionship, patience, love. So when you come into his cell asking to sleep with him, he scoots to the side, pulling back the blanket. He tells you, you don't have to ask. He'll protect you from the nightmares.

Micheal Mercer; Micheal is always busy. He takes the job seriously because it's important. However, sometimes he can feel like he's not spending enough time with you. It's why one night, he decides to ask you, to stay. He tells you, he doesn't want to go to bed alone anymore. Not when he can fall and wake up to something beautiful

Negan; Negan smirks when you tell him you don't want to sleep alone. He's been waiting for you to come to him. He didn't want to put any pressure on you, but he's been wanting to share a bed with you for a while. In Negan's mind, it's another way to be close to you. An excuse to feel your body against his.

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villifix · 7 months

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merle was a creep at times but he was on his way to redemption. i love the idea of sort-of-brother-in-law merle that got to live a little longer and make an effort to be a better person.

this is assuming daryl's partner is a female, btw

❜ ─ more under cut ─ ❛

• merle realizing just how head over heels daryl is for you. he would give him HELL over it but at the end of the day he would be so protective over this little ray of light in his baby brother's life

• you think daryl can be scary when a guy's looking at you the wrong way? the guy's quite literally done for when merle finds out

• "merle, you can't say that, that's offensive-" "aw hell, y'all are some damn pansies!"

• "lemme know when you get tired of my little bro, i'll show you what a real man's like-" "you ever shut yer damn mouth, merle?"

• ^ he's not serious though. he just likes to get daryl riled up and thinks it's funny to see your nose scrunch up in disgust, even if he does end up getting clocked in the jaw for it

• when the brothers go on supply runs, merle points out necklaces or earrings they come across, encouraging daryl to take it for you because "women love shiny shit"

• he's always asking you when you're going to pop out a little boy so he can finally be an uncle

• "how ya know it wouldn't be a girl?" "ain't been a girl with dixon blood since i been alive, brother. ain't gonna happen." (if you and daryl have a baby, it definitely does happen)

• when the prison falls, you can't find daryl and there's no more time, so you end up running from the prison with merle

• he hates it

• like every second of it

• not necessarily because he minds your company, but moreso because this is a huge fucking weight on his shoulders

• your wellbeing is now his #1 priority because you're daryl's girl and that makes you family, and he has no intentions of letting his little brother down again

• so it's a lot of pressure

• plus you keep giving him that nasty ass side-eye like he pissed in your cornflakes any time he says something that he finds hilarious (it's actually just offensive), and he's starting to think your sense of humor is nonexistent

• you expect him to make some vulgar jokes or try to come onto you at any given minute, but to your surprise, he actually never does

• like i said, he was never serious and he only joked about it to mess with daryl. without daryl around, he's rather respectful of your space

• at night he tells you stories of his time in the military before he got discharged and went to prison

• please don't cry around him :) he likes you and all, but he would really rather cut off his other hand than have to try and comfort you - that's daryl's job

• the only time he manages to not be an ass when you're crying is when you mention worrying about daryl and missing him

• merle lets out a hefty sigh in response, ruffles your hair with his one hand, and admits that he misses him, too

#merle dixon #daryl dixon #twd #twd headcanons #headcanons #twd imagine #daryl dixon x reader

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darylmydix · 18 days

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THE SCARS WE SHARE | daryl dixon - 002

summary: you were the only good thing daryl had in his life. bonded by similar trauma, you suffered abuse at the hands of your stepmother, just as daryl had suffered from his own father. when you finally decide to escape your abusive home life, you're forced to leave behind your best friend in the process. now with the world in an apocalyptic state, you're left wondering if daryl was even alive.

pairings: daryl dixon x f!reader.

warnings: smut, violence, blood and gore, unrequited love, best friends to lovers, mentions of s/a, mentions of abuse, mention of suicidal thoughts/attempts, mention of drug use, use of deadly weapons, fluff, angst, slow burn, strong language, kidnapping, coercion, seasons 5-11, 18+, minors dni.

word count: 1.5k

author’s note: sorry if your name isn’t in the taglist and you asked to be. it wouldn’t let me tag some of you.

You lift your hand, blocking out the sun’s gleaming rays as you watch Daryl mutilate an opossum, removing the poor creature's insides. “Can’t you cook it or something?” You scrunch your face in pure disgust.

Daryl scoffs, eyeing you. “This ain't a damn five star restaurant, princess.” He says as he pops a piece into his mouth. “Well I am not eating that.” You shake your head. Daryl shrugs, making no complaints. “More for me.”

Eating dead animals was a cakewalk for someone like Daryl. He’s had to learn how to survive during times like this when his father would kick him out. At least he knew how to hunt and track thanks to the old man. The one good thing the bastard has done for his son.

You observe in silence while Daryl pigged out like he was enjoying a fine dine meal, even going as far as licking his fingers. “I don’t understand how you can eat raw animal guts. Aren’t you afraid of rabies?”

“It’s survival,” he states. “The world could go to shit one day where we ain’t got a choice but to eat crap like this. Beggars can’t be choosers.”

The thought of that makes you sick to your stomach. You didn’t even wanna imagine a world where you’d have to tear apart defenseless animals to save yourself from hunger. It just wasn’t in your human nature to hurt anything innocent. “I don’t think I could do that no matter the circumstances.” You admit.

“Then you sure as shit better hope the world don’t ever come to an end. You’d be the first to get taken out.” He jokes, but there’s some seriousness to his words. Compared to Daryl’s hardass exterior, you were as soft as a plush toy.

Two different personalities; but that’s why your friendship seemed to work so well. Daryl needed something delicate in his life to take the brute in him down a peg, and you needed a brute to protect you from what you’re too delicate to protect yourself against.

“Maybe you’re right...” You sigh, fiddling with your fingers, well aware of your fragility.

“Best be lucky ya got me then.” He says, standing up, while wiping his bloody hands on his pants. You look up at him, a smile forming your face. Daryl avoids your gaze, which he often does when he says anything remotely soft or caring to you. It was just the brooding man in him wanting to hide any emotional connection, but you knew he cared about you. And he knew you knew.

“I am lucky I have you.” You say softly. His eyes finally lock with yours for a split second before he simply nods and changes the subject. “C’mon, I’ll walk you home.” He holds out his hand for you to take. You bite the inside of your cheek, rejecting the gesture. “I’m not in a rush to go back there.” You glowered.

“I know, but I ain’t tryin’ to get you into trouble again.” Daryl reminds you of the day that not only did you suffer consequences, but he did as well. Last time you avoided going home, you returned only to find cop cars outside of your house and your stepmother pretending to be oh so worried about you.

“Him!” She shouted, pointing to Daryl. “Arrest that inbred thug! He kidnapped my daughter!”

You tried to plead with the officers, telling them that wasn’t true but given the criminal history of the Dixon family it fell upon deaf ears and you had to sadly watch as your best friend was forced into a squad car. Fortunately he didn’t get into much trouble by the police, and was taken home.

His father was another story though.

You sigh, taking his hand and the brunette lifts you off the ground. “For the record, I’m only going because I don’t wanna get you in trouble again.” You inform him. Daryl scoffs. “Yeah whatever.”

“There it is. The house of horrors.” You mumble, staring ahead at the home that no longer brought you joy. “Need me to stick around a bit? Watch over the house?” Daryl suggests, and you look at him with a raised brow. “You’re gonna stakeout my house? What good would that do?” You ask.

“First prick I see walk up there’ll get his ass kicked, that’s what good it’ll do.” He spat. You could feel the anger radiating off of him; you shake your head. “You and Merle got it bad with assault,” Daryl glares at you in response. “If you just a walk up and kick whatever sick fuck comes to my door to get his jollies off then all my stepmom’ll do is call the police and have you arrested for stalking and battery.”

Daryl made a ‘tsk’ sound. “Pigs would be givin’ me a medal if they knew the fuck was goin’ on in there. What those assholes and that bitch was doin’.” He was passionate about your situation, and you appreciated it because you felt the same when it came to him and his own. “Hell am I supposed to do?”

You put your hand on his shoulder, which makes him tense slightly before he’s calm. “Nothing. Like I said, it’s just our reality. Go home, Daryl. Eat a meal better than opossum. For me, please.” You giggle a bit.

“You sure?” He asks.

“That I want you to eat a meal better than opossum? Pretty sure.”

The brunette scowls at your joke. “No. That you want me to go.”

You knew what he meant, but you often deflected questions like that because in the end what you wanted didn’t really matter. Stay or go, your position was all the same. “Yeah. Go home.” You give his shoulder a gentle squeeze before turning to walk away. “Hey,” Daryl calls out, and you look back at him. “I’ll wait out here for a bit.”

You smile, shaking your head. “You’re a stubborn bastard.”

“Yeah, well it takes one to know one.”

You roll your eyes, turning away once again to walk home. You pull your keys from your sweater pockets as you get to the door, but it was suddenly ripped open with your stepmother standing there eyeing daggers at you. “The hell have you been? I almost had to call the law and report you missing again.”

“I’m an adult now, Sandra...”

“Like I give a damn. Get your dumbass in here.” She pointed inside with her thumb. You sigh, stepping into the house. Your stepmom pokes her head out, noticing Daryl standing there on the sidewalk. “What the hell are you doing by my house, you yokel?” She hissed.

“I was walkin’ her home, somebody’s gotta make sure she’s okay.” Daryl spat back. Your stepmother chuckled. “Well, aren't you quite the gentleman.” She snarked. “Well she’s here now, so why don’t you take your hillbilly ass back to the trailer park where you belong and get the hell away from my property before I call the cops.” She slams the door, getting the last word.

You peer at Daryl through the living room window, mouthing for him to ‘just go’. You could see him struggling within himself with the decision before he heads off. Your stepmother shuts the curtains, glaring at you. “Don’t you ever bring that redneck here again or I’ll make you regret it.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, holding back tears. “What do you have against him? He is the only thing in this world that I have that cares about me.”

She laughed mockingly. “You think he cares about you? You’re not even worth a damn to care about. The only thing you’re good for, honey, is making me money to keep this damn roof over our head. And if that little bastard isn’t helping support that, then he has no business here. Next time I see him I’ll get a restraining order and make sure he’ll never step foot here again, do you understand?”

You don’t respond, tears now falling down your face. She roughly grabs your arm, digging her nails into your skin. You yelp in pain. “Do you understand?!” She repeats. “Yes!” You cry out. She lets go of you, throwing your arm from her grasp. “Now go shower. We’ve got a guest coming later tonight.”

You quickly rush to your bedroom, slamming the room door shut. You pace around your room, wiping tears from your eyes. You were full of different emotions. Anger, sadness, sorrow, hate, agony. You wanted to just give up on this life. You had no willingness to live.

You open your drawer, digging through your clothes until you find the razor you keep in your drawer. You eye the tiny blade, twisting it around in your finger. ‘It could just end here’. You thought.

But then the sudden flash of Daryl came into your mind.

Like it always does.

You threw the razor atop of your dresser, the unwillingness fading away. “Daryl Dixon the things I do for you.” You mutter to yourself.

Taglist:

@daryldixmedown, @supernaturalstilinski, @vampiresluv, @myassisasolarsystem, @mosstheshoeshoethemoss, @scripteria, @moonlightreader649, @creepumiku, @filmsbyblair, @ginger-haired-queen, @darylsdollie

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wannabespacesmuggler · 5 months

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D.D. | Shane's Girl

Part Six | Masterlist | Buy me a coffee | Check out the playlist

Summary: Daryl Dixon knows he shouldn’t be thinking about you when he’s alone at night in his tent. Hell, he shouldn’t even be looking at you throughout the day. You’re not his. You’re Shane’s girl. But Daryl doesn’t like the way Shane treats you. And he certainly doesn’t like how you’re forced to play ‘loving girlfriend’ to a man with eyes for another woman at the camp.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x female!Reader

Warnings: Shane Walsh sucks, unedited (I will get to it later, I promise)

Word Count: 1.2K

Author’s Note: Oof—alright, it's been a hot second, everybody. Apologies for going MIA for a while (life, y'know?). I haven't forgotten about this fic and I know that none of you have forgotten about it based on the amount of notes and messages I get (which I appreciate greatly). Thanks for sticking it out with me guys. Excited for you all to see what I have planned in the coming chapters. In the meantime, let me know what y'all think of this one & let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist.

“Fuck!”

The expletive escapes your lips before you can think twice about it. You nervously look around the camp, searching for Carl and Sophia. The last thing you need is for Lori and Carol to get on your case because you accidentally taught the children swear words. After realizing that neither of them is in earshot, you let out a sigh of relief.

You look down at the garment in your lap. Shane had thrown a pair of his cargo pants at you earlier this morning, grumbling about a hole in one of his pockets. You had woken up earlier than him, probably because he had returned to your shared tent far after everyone else in camp had retired for the evening. This was becoming somewhat of a routine for the two of you: Shane sneaking around in the middle of the night thinking you’re asleep; meanwhile, you spend the restless nights in your tent waiting to see if he actually comes back. You never ask him where he was in the morning—knowing that Shane would brush you off by saying he was on watch as if you don’t understand that the shifts rotate every night. Another sigh escapes your lips as you defeatedly throw the pants onto the table before you and turn your attention to your finger, which you had clumsily stabbed with a needle while attempting to fix the garment.

“You ‘lright?”

The sound of Daryl’s rough southern drawl makes you jump. You look up and see Daryl standing a few feet away with his raised hands. He takes a few careful steps toward you—his movements are slow and calculated. Your brow furrows at the sight—did he think you’re afraid of him?

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle ya.”

“It’s okay, Daryl. I was just a little distracted.”

Daryl nods at your words before taking a seat beside you at the table.

“What’d ya do to your hand?”

He leans toward you slightly to get a better look, his concerned eyes raking over your hands, looking for any sign of injury. A small smile spreads across your face as Daryl continues to worry about your well-being. You raise your hands to show him that you’re perfectly okay.

“It’s nothing. Just pricked my finger—Shane has a hole in his pocket, and I was never good with a needle and thread.”

You shrug your shoulders nonchalantly as you speak. Daryl chews on his bottom lip as he looks at the cargo pants on the table. It’s ripped along the seam, an easy fix—he’s done it numerous times for his own tattered jeans.

“Give it ‘er.”

You look at Daryl’s outstretched hand in disbelief for several seconds before handing him the needle and thread. Daryl snatches the pants off the table and gets to work. You watch him curiously—his brow furrows as he focuses on the task at hand. Daryl momentarily lets his attention drift to you; he awkwardly shifts in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable with how intently you’re watching him.

“Why are you lookin’ at me like that?”

His tone is defensive, but it doesn’t make you back down like everyone else.

“Just surprised, is all.”

“What, Shane doesn’t know how to sew?”

He meets your incredulous gaze and can’t help but laugh. The sound is still foreign to his ears, even though it’s becoming somewhat of an ordinary occurrence when he’s with you. He’s much more used to the sound of Merle yelling, music blaring, old motorcycles' roar, and the forest's peaceful ambiance.

“Well, you shouldn’t have to do everything for him.”

His genuine words should comfort you, but instead, they nag at you. You shouldn’t have to do everything for him. You shouldn’t have to turn a blind eye to your boyfriend’s nightly habit. You shouldn’t have to walk on eggshells around him. You shouldn’t have to make yourself smaller for his convenience. And yet, here you are.

“You have a cigarette?”

The question catches Daryl off guard. He’s only seen you smoke once—that night at the campfire, and he swore it was his fault. Your words from that night still rattle around in his head. You’re a bad influence, Dixon. He completes his final stitch, bringing the thread to his mouth so he can rip it off with his teeth. He places everything back on the table before pulling out his pack of Marlboro Reds from his pocket and offering it to you. You take one from the pack, twisting it in your fingers before placing the cigarette between your lips. Daryl notices your hesitation as he hands you his old lighter, so he waits until you’ve lit your cigarette before pulling out one of his own. The two of you sit in comfortable silence, but something about this doesn’t sit right with Daryl.

“What’s goin’ on?”

You furrow your brow at his question, feigning confusion, but Daryl doesn’t relent. He simply raises a brow at you as he takes another long drag of his cigarette. You let out a defeated sigh before answering his question.

“It’s just Shane…”

You trail off thinking that since it’s relationship drama, maybe Daryl wouldn’t be interested. But he doesn’t try to change the subject or brush you off, instead, he gives you his undivided attention. He watches you quickly look around camp, scooping the area and taking account of who is around. A frown pulls at the corners of Daryl’s lips as he realizes that you’re once again looking over your shoulder for Shane.

“He wasn’t always like this. I mean, he was always a hothead, but he wasn’t always so cruel.”

“Hey…”

The softness in his tone catches you off guard, and you look up at him. A part of you wants to cry at how attentive Daryl is at this moment. It’s been so long since someone has shown you this kind of care.

“You ain’t gotta defend him to me.”

Daryl watches as a single tear falls down your cheek at his words, and he begins to panic. Did he upset you? Was he out of line? Had he gotten the situation between you and Shane wrong? This isn’t his forte. He wishes he was a different man—a better man, a softer man. He wishes he was more like his mother and less like his father. That she could have lived long enough to teach him a few more life lessons—like how to comfort someone you care for.

Before he has the chance to spiral completely out of control, he feels your fingertips find his, and his heart damn near stops. He involuntarily pulls away from your touch, and it makes him wince. He sits in the shame of his response to your touch. A better man would have been able to return your affection. Finally, he meets your gaze, expecting to see the hurt he caused by his reaction. Instead, he’s met with a smile so warm and tender that he can practically feel the shame in his body melt away.

“Thank you, Daryl.”

A small, affectionate smile pulls at the corners of Daryl’s lips.

“It was nothin’.”

You shake your head at his words. What he did for you today was far from nothing, but you let it go, opting to turn your attention back to the cargo pants on the table before you. As you admire Daryl’s handiwork, you can’t help but hope that Daryl knows that Shane’s pocket isn’t the only thing he stitched back together today.

Taglist:

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#twd #The Walking Dead #walking dead #daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #Rick Grimes #shane walsh #merle dixon #glenn rhee #lori grimes #the walking dead imagine #walking dead imagine #Norman Reedus #norman reedus imagine #norman reedus x reader

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darylsdelts · 4 months

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Daryl wasn’t always such a tough guy, he was emotional like any other child when he was little.

Between the ages of 4 to 6, Daryl was fascinated with the play park. The only bad thing about it were there were other kids there, kids that wanted to make friends with Daryl, kids that weren’t overcome with such painful anxiety at a young age that Daryl couldn’t understand.

However, he’d still go to the park all by himself because he liked the swings. When he’d get there, if there was someone on the swings already, he’d sit on the tarmac floor (right next to a perfectly fine bench but he was not taking the chances of someone coming to sit by him) and wait. He wouldn’t ask for a turn, he would just wait.

Sometimes, if Merle came with him he’d encourage Daryl to go and ask for a turn. Merle so desperately wanted Daryl to make friends, making friends meant play dates and play dates meant going to somebody else’s house that didn’t have a drunk, abusive man in it, he wanted Daryl away from it. But Daryl never wanted to make friends.

One day Daryl went to the park by himself, which was more common than going with Merle, and when he got there the swings were free! He ran to his favourite swing, struggling a bit to get on it since he was quite short. He persevered and completed the difficult task, next came swinging himself, which was hard too but he managed to get it going. After being on the swing for about half an hour, he wanted to get off to go on the slide. He found that stopping the swing and getting off took way too long for how excited he was, so he decided to try what he’d seen some bigger kids do. He wanted to jump off.

He was sure he could do it, he prepared himself, jumped, completely missed his feet, landing on his hands and knees. Now, his knees were scraped and bloody, along with the heels of both palms.

The five year old’s eyes welled with tears, quickly he rose to his feet and his little legs worked as hard as they could to get him home. He planned on getting in and going to momma, knowing daddy wouldn’t help.

Merle was round the side working on something when he heard the scuffing of shoes and loud sniffling and he knew exactly what had happened.

Quickly, he rounded the corner and stepped in front of the front door to stop Daryl.

“Ya got hurt, baby brother?”

Daryl shook his head and sniffled, trying to get past Merle to get to momma.

Obviously Merle could see Daryl was crying and he could see his bloody knees. He took Daryl’s forearms in his hands and turned them to see his scraped palms.

“Looks tough, brother”

“Move… needa get momma…”

Merle knew that their mother wasn’t home right now and if Daryl went in there, crying, all he was gonna get was yelled at and beaten.

“She ain’t home, bud… s’only pa… C’mere”

Merle tried to pull Daryl in his direction but Daryl hastily shrugged him off. Merle could be a huge meanie sometimes and he was sure he was gonna make fun of him.

When Daryl wouldn’t budge, Merle reluctantly lifted Daryl straight off the ground, carried him to the side of the shack and sat him on the rotting bench.

Of course the whole time Daryl was grumbling.

“Put me down, merwe!”

“S’for your own good, lil brother, show me yer hands”

Daryl slowly held his hands out to his big brother, hoping he’d help. Daryl had originally planned to go cry in mommy’s arms but now he was with Merle, he was trying not to.

Merle poured some water from a plastic bottle over the little boys palms and knees and wiped over them with his handkerchief.

A few tears fell from Daryls eyes but Merle ignored it.

“Some pretty nasty busts ya got ‘ere… musta been doin’ some real brave shit, huh?”

Merle wanted to cheer Daryl up but he wasn’t sure how.

“Jumped off da swing”

“Ya ain’t quite stuck the landing’ yet… plen’y o’ time ta practice… I’ll go wit’ ya to the damn park tomorruh”

“Pwomise?” Daryl looked at him with wide, hopeful, blue eyes.

Merle hated making promises to Daryl, but he reckons he could keep this one so he ruffles his hair and nods before reaching into his vest pocket and pulling out a bandaid (that may or may not be in there for when he takes Daryl’s blood and needs to put a plaster over the needle hole) and gently putting it on the more scuffed knee of the two.

“You gon’ sit ‘ere n watch me work on this piece o’ crap?”

Daryl nodded and Merle was relieved, he didn’t want Daryl going inside yet, not with how his eyes were still misty and red rimmed.

He’d never said this before, it felt awkward to say it to be honest but he figured it’s what mom would’ve said to him and he knows that Daryl wants her.

“Good boy, Daryl… pass me that driver”

Daryl’s feet kick a little at the praise, he’s too little to reach the ground, as he passes over the screw driver.

#daryl dixon imagine #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl x reader #norman reedus #twd daryl #merle dixon #little Daryl #young daryl dixon

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ihaveabuckyproblem · 2 years

Text

He Had It Comin’ | D.D.

Summary: Daryl once told the group that Merle wasn’t a r@pist, but no one could deny the way Merle looked at you.

Warnings: fem reader, sexual harassment, attempted r@pe, protective!Daryl, villain!Merle, set in Alexandria, (we’re just gonna act like Merle never died), death threats, triggering threats, crying, guns, pinning, etc.

You were groggy, things all confusing and hazy in your awakening state. The sunlight barely creeped through the curtains as they failed to cover all of the window, allowing the golden rays to shine into your face. The urge the open your eyes got the best of you, so you did, and immediately groaned when you were blinded by the sunlight.

After a couple more seconds, you were coherent. You didn’t have to turn to see that Daryl was sleeping peacefully beside you. He had one arm propped under his head, a force of habit he never was able to break away from. His other arm was holding onto you, feeling as though someone was about to pull you away from him at any given moment and he’d never see you again. It always amazed you how strong he was, even while he slept.

Moments like these brought a small smile to your lips as you wished you could stay here in this moment forever. Nothing brought you more peace, you were the safest you’ve been since the world fell and the dead rose.

You could feel Daryl’s steadily paced breaths warming your neck, his face nuzzled into it. You knew you’d have to get up soon, but everything in you was telling you not too. To stay here, wearing nothing but Daryl’s t-shirt and a pair of underwear, while your lover slept next to you as if there wasn’t a world outside of your shared room.

Suddenly, your peaceful thoughts and blissful mood were interrupted as your bedroom door is quite literally slammed open. You felt Daryl’s body tense immediately as you both shut up, Daryl’s hand already reaching for the knife under his pillow.

“Rise and shine!” As if seeing Merle standing there wasn’t enough, his voice rang loudly throughout the once quiet room. Immediately, Daryl relaxed, but rolled his eyes.

“Get outta here, man.” Daryl raised his voice at his older brother, throwing his hands up.

You hadn’t taken your eyes off the older Dixon. And he sure as hell hadn’t taken his eyes off you either, the way your bare legs looked exposed like that mind his eyes have no shame. You shuddered in disgust, immediately throwing the blanket over your body.

Daryl caught onto his brother’s creeping eyes and stood up out of bed, stomping over to Merle.

“Stop bargin’ in ‘ere, asshole. Yer creepin’ her out.” He growled at him, spitting his words out like venom. Merle smirked, finally tearing his gaze off you and looked at his little brother.

“I can’t help but look when my sweet baby brother got himself a nice piece of ass hanging around.” Merle spoke without shame. This made Daryl’s blood boil, he pushed Merle back and out of the room before slamming the door back shut. All you could hear was Merle’s descending laughter as he walked away.

You wanted to be shocked, like you didn’t expect it. Like this wasn’t normal. But, truth be told, Merle’s behavior towards you has always been that way. No matter how many times Daryl threatened to smash his skull in or take off his other hand, Merle said and did as he pleased when he pleased.

“‘M sorry bout him, he’s an ass.” Daryl muttered the last part to himself as he walked towards his dresser, intent on getting ready for the day.

“I think it was a mistake to let him move into the basement.” You muttered, letting your dislike for Merle seep into your tone.

Daryl didn’t say anything because he knew you were right. He hates the way Merle speaks to you, it isn’t okay and it makes you uncomfortable, and that’s enough for him to want to send Merle to an early grave. But, Merle was blood, the last family Daryl had.

“I’ll talk to ‘em.” Daryl reassures, sending you a “I promise” look.

Hours had passed and you hadn’t seen Daryl since this morning. After getting dressed and ready for the day, you parted and went your separate ways. Daryl had been positioned with Rick today on supply runs while you were on training with the kids.

The day was going great, the kids were going through their training wonderfully. Even Adam, the little boy who is scared of his own shadow, did wonderful knife work. It made you proud seeing how far they’ve come.

All that pride washed out of your system when you felt another presence. You didn’t move, standing there with your hands on your hips, observing the children. You felt uneasy, as if prying eyes were on you. And they were.

Merle had been passing by the training grounds when he spotted you. You have no idea how long he’d been there, just watching, eyes glued to your ass. He sexualized you worse than any man ever had and it was disgusting. You were a big girl and you knew how to fend for yourself, but having to fight against the living is the scariest thing you ever had to do.

As long as Merle kept his distance, you didn’t care. You knew how jealous he was that Daryl had you and he didn’t, but that wasn’t your problem. He needed to learn respect.

All of a sudden, you felt a quick pressure on your backside, causing you to stumble forward.

Did someone just smack my ass?

You whipped around faster than you could imagine only to be met with the serious yet mischievous stare of Merle. He had that uneasy smirk plastered on his face that sent chills down our spine.

Oh, your blood was boiling. The nerve he had to put his hands on you, his brother’s woman. You could hear the kids still continuing on with their training, oblivious to the creep in the area, but all you could see was red.

“Now, that’s a nice piece of-“ before you could let him finish his sentence, you reared back your first in seconds, giving it all your force as you felt your knuckles come in contact with his cheekbone.

Merle was on the ground in seconds, looking at you with pure shock. You didn’t hear the children practicing anymore, so you knew you had eyes on you. Your senses came back to you and that’s when you looked down at your red knuckles, instantly getting hit with the sharp pains throbbing in your hand. You gripped your wrist and hissed.

“You bitch!” Merle hollered, making your head snap up.

“Watch your tone or I’ll rock your shit again,” you snapped at him, coming down from your adrenaline high, “Get out of here. They’re just kids, they don’t need to see anything else.”

You didn’t give him the time of day to respond before you turned your back on him and walked away. He gathered himself and left, but not without griping and complaining, muttering a bunch of curses and threats under his breath.

An hour later and you couldn’t bear the pain in your hand, your fear is that it was broken. You made up some lame excuse and told the kids that training was done for the day. You made sure they all put their knives back into their holsters and told them all what a good job they did. After the last child made their way home, you realized the sun was on its way to setting. Letting out a sign, you gently grabbing your wrist, keeping your hand steady as you walked to Carol’s home.

“This looks bad, Y/N.” Carol said softly, having a delicate hold on your injured hand. You winced, trying to bite your tongue from the pain.

“You should see the other guy.” You joked, only, it didn’t come off as humorous as you hoped. Carol was quick to look at you, concerned, before reaching for her medical kit.

“This is from a fight?” She asked.

You scoffed at how funny that sounded to you. It was better than your joke.

“It was less of a fight and more of a promise.” You spoke truthfully. Not keeping the truth any longer, you informed Carol of what happened. She was upset for you, to say the least. Carol was your best friend outside from Daryl, so she already knew of your worries when it came to Merle. She didn’t like him either but she was always worrying about you living in the same house as him.

“Are you gonna tell Daryl?” She asked, putting the last piece of gauze tape on your wrapped hand.

Daryl.

You forgot about the fact that you would have to tell Daryl. He would question your hand… and you never lie to each other. It was an unspoken rule and brutal honesty was a big factor in your relationship.

You bit your lip nervously, how do you tell your boyfriend that his brother smacked your ass? Your thoughts became overwhelming, Daryl loves his brother. But he also loves you. What if he thinks you’re making him chose?

You mentally laughed to yourself at how ridiculous that sounds. After Carol finished your hand, you looked out the window, seeing nothing but the deep setting sun. All the light was almost drained from the sky, you could tell the moon was about to make its appearance.

Thanking Carol, you bid your goodbyes, knowing Daryl was probably home. After leaving Carol’s house, you tried not to think about the situation. It wasn’t worth the stress… Merle wasn’t worth the stress.

It wasn’t long before you reached you and Daryl’s home. The lights were off, meaning no one else was home. You sighed, dragging your feet up the stairs. He must be somewhere with Rick unpacking whatever supplies they brought back. You smiled to yourself thinking about the man you love.

You made your way into the house, kicking off your boots at the door. It was dark in the house, but there was enough moonlight coming in through the windows that you could make your way around. Your body felt so tired and your hand was starting to throb again. Why did you have to strike him with your most useful hand?

You shook it off and deposited your holster belt on the kitchen counter. The weight off your hips was relieving. You arched your back, giving it a good stretch.

Then, you felt something cold pressed against your head. Your body tenses almost instantly, your heart rate speeding up in seconds. You knew what that was. Anyone in Alexandria would recognize the feeling of a gun pressed to the back of their head.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Merle mocked, his voice flooding your ears.

For fucks sake.

“Bet that hand feels just about as good as my face, doesn’t it, honey?” He chuckled, taking a step closer. You closed your eyes and took and big breath in and out- you couldn’t show him your fear.

“What do you want, Merle?” You seethed. You were eyeing your holster belt that was only a couple feet away that held your knife.

“You know what I want baby.” His voice was low and hungry, now pressing himself against your back. As if you weren’t tense before, you were stiff as a door now. He moved the gun to press to the side of your head, grabbing your hip hard. Your winced in pain at the feeling of his fingers digging into your hip, but he had other plans than just that. He grabbed you by the back of your neck and slammed your body down onto the counter, making you bend over it as sharp groan leaving your lips.

This was happening. This was really happening. The sudden realization of the situation you were in made a wave of fear come crashing over you. All the jokes, the comments, the stares… This is what he was thinking about? Forcing himself on you over the counter?

No. This can’t happen, you weren’t gonna let this happen. Merle was ripping off your shirt when you came to your senses. This was enough for you to throw your head backwards and into his mouth, making him holler in pain. To your surprise, he even dropped the gun.

You stood up and wasted no time, you didn’t even look at him, you just bolted. You ran towards the door, but couldn’t even twist the handle before you were ripped away from it. You screamed in protest, but your vocal cords gave out when you felt a hard hit to your head.

You were pulled to your feet by your hair before being punched in the face again, immediately falling back down to the floor. You cried out in pain, kicking and screaming, refusing to go down without a fight.

“Go to hell!” You scream, spitting a large wad of saliva into Merle’s eyes. He jerked back and let you go, dropping you so he could wipe his eyes. You scrambled to your feet, but tripped over his large boot that he stuck out in front of you. Your body hit the floor hard and you landed on your already injured hand, causing a scream to ripple through your throat. You were silenced by a kick to the stomach, your eyes widening as the wind was knocked out of you, sending you into a coughing fit.

Having had enough of your resisting, Merle knelt down between your legs, flipping you on your back as he pulls you closer by your legs. You cry and try to fight back, but the harsh blows you endured did a number on your body.

Merle had his hands on the zipper of your jeans when the front door opened and shut. Both of your heads snapped to the doorway the same time Daryl looked up to see what was taking place.

Your face was bloody, your lip busted and your forehead gashed. You looked like you had been crying as you wheezed, still fighting for air. Your shirt was nowhere to be seen and your stomach was red, looking abused. You didn’t say anything, you couldn’t say anything, your eyes said enough as they pleaded for help.

When Daryl finally laid his eyes upon his big brother, he was blinded with rage. All the color drained from his surroundings as all he saw was red. Merle didn’t look sorry, or guilty, or ashamed of what he was attempting to do- only disappointed that he didn’t finish the job.

Daryl didn’t utter a word as he took 3 big strides and rocked his fist into Merle’s jaw. There was so much force behind the punch that it made your body jerk.

Merle was pleading with his little brother, but Daryl didn’t care. No one lays a hand on his woman, no one lays their hand on you, and lives to see the next day.

Even through the tears in your eyes, you could see the blood bath Daryl was making of Merle’s face. With every colliding notion of Daryl’s fist to his brother’s face, Daryl would grunt, but never uttered a word. He never threatened Merle, never asked why, he simply wanted him dead.

And Daryl did just that. Daryl beat Merle until Merle stopped pleading, moving, and breathing. You looked on as Daryl stood over his dead brother’s body.

At the realization that Merle was dead, you finally broke. Your body shook in sobs and you covered your chest with your arms, holding yourself as you cried. The love of your life just killed his brother- and you felt guilty.

“Shit, Y/N-“ Daryl bolted over to you, kneeling down to your level. He pulled your body into his lap, holding you close.

“I’m sorry- I’m so sorry Daryl.” You choked out, avoiding the lifeless body on the floor just a few feet away.

“Yer sorry?” Daryl questioned, “Y/N, he was hurtin’ ya.”

“He was your brother-“

“I don’t give a damn.” Daryl said sternly. You grew quiet at his words. Daryl gently cupped your face in his hands, making you look him in the eye.

“Yer the only one I care ‘bout. He had it comin’.”

Daryl reassuring words left your mind at ease, but, you were still shaken up. You and Daryl sat there for god only knows how long as you held onto him and cried. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear and held you tight. He promised himself to never let you go.

#the walking dead daryl #Daryl Dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon protective #daryl Dixon is daddy #the walking dead imagines #daryl dixon fanfiction #Merle is an ass #merledixon #twd #the walking dead

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grimesgirll · 5 months

Note

rickyl x reader but with rare jealous!daryl

daryl shouldn’t be seething at the sight of rick’s head in your lap.

there’s no reason at all he should be thinkin’ about skinning his best friend. it’s jealousy at its finest.

he can hear merle now, taunting him. he wonders if his brother would call him a “fuckin’ pansy” or a “pussy” first. fuming inwardly all by himself on his recliner. the piece of furniture begins to feel like an island. it’s even worse imagining he’s just watching you and rick.

once upon a time, daryl got a kick out of seeing you get those pretty, big brain thoughts fucked out of your head for just a moment while rick splits you open. there’s something in seein’ you all fucked out, thinking about fueling the fire between your legs only. the legs that daryl often threw over his shoulders, diving tongue first in your paradisal cunt. that would be before rick rolled his way in and insisted he be the first to stuff your tight, yearn slick pussy.

merle would rag on him for that.

“aw, poor cucked, fuck,” he’d try to stifle his laugh but end up roaring in laughter.

daryl does the same thing he did when his brother was alive and ignores the thought. the thought of you can’t be banished from his head though.

no, not when you’re running your hands through rick’s hair and looking down at him, lips moving in sweet muted conversation that daryl is too green to comprehend. he’s feeling selfish now and wishing you two could go somewhere alone.

moments alone with you hit different now. they’re rare but they exist.

like after he and rick spend the better half of the night taking you apart from the inside out, and you and him sneak out to the porch for a cigarette once rick’s fallen asleep.

sometimes daryl thinks rick sleeps worse than judith - the sheriff is basically an insomniac without you. you’re the miracle cure for the horror induced nightmares. it’s like a good spooning with you clears his head, but daryl can’t really fault rick for that. he does however absolutely loathe the sixth sense the constable has for when you’ve strayed away from his arms in the night.

the man’s head is swimming at the thought of you in his arms when there’s a knock at the door.

your glinting eyes are rolling but you’re calling out for your guest to, “come in!” rick’s scowl couldn’t be larger but he fixes his face once maggie comes into view.

maggie looks between you and rick, even sparing a glance at daryl before attempting to stifle a laugh and clearing her throat. “i’m sorry to interrupt, but deanna needs you at her house to discuss important matters.”

you feel rick tense beneath you. barely able to contain your own pouts, you gaze back up at rick and he takes that as his signal to connect your lips one last time. shining under the living room ceiling lights, the two of you mash wantonly wetted lips. lost in each other, you don’t feel the pissed off redneck across the room.

finally breaking apart, you whine and rick almost scolds you, wondering if you have any respect for maggie’s image of you. when he glimpses over your shoulder and catches sight of maggie’s grin, he’s smirking. daryl wants to go out into the woods and shoot something.

“well, duty calls.”

rick’s rolling you off of him, leaving you with another breathless kiss and nodding daryl’s way.

daryl struggles to maintain a cordial face. this doesn’t go unnoticed by rick, who would’ve asked what was up with his typically mellow friend had he more time. the younger man’s more than relieved to see rick and maggie meandering out the door.

“dare’.”

damn, he almost forgot about you.

blue irises meet your dilated centers. the darkened, passion cast pupils beckon him to resume where rick had left off. a hand pats the patterned sofa.

that stirs him from his moodiness - slightly.

you’re assuming your position in his lap once his ass hits the cushion. hands gently wring around his neck until you’re sat firmly on top of him, gaze unmistakable.

“what’s goin’ on with you?”

startled, his breath hitches in his throat. his adam’s apple throbbing uncomfortably peaks your attention. you frown at him until his pink lips move slowly.;

“i feel like i haven’t even seen you lately, baby. and we live in the same fuckin’ house.”

your face falls at the words. “really?” you ask, wanting him to go on. the distraught look painting your typically sunny face has him not wanting to, but he does because you asked.

“you’re always on him, he’s on you. you touch me too and i know you love me. i know you like goin’ out in the woods with me but you feel so fuckin’ far away when you’re right there.”

“i’m so sorry, dare’.”

he’s quick to stop you. “it’s not your fault, baby, it’s not rick’s either-,”

“-no!” you interject, grinding down onto him by accident, eliciting a groan from him which you quickly apologize for.

daryl slaps your fleece covered ass lightly. “don’t apologize for being fuckin’ hot, baby.”

you giggle, leaning down to kiss him. he’s slowly but surely fading into this fairytale kiss you’re bestowing upon him until he hears another apology on your lips.

“baby, it’s okay.”

“no, it’s not.” you’re almost in tears now. puffy lips quake and purse. “you should never feel that way.”

“it’s fine, hon’, i feel better just telling you, an’ gettin’ it off my chest.” he assures you, playing with the top of your fleece shorts.

your eyes trail down to the drawstring of your shorts, and you wipe away a tear, revealing a yearning smile.

“would this help?”

daryl suddenly rolls into you, pelvis pistoning against the pillowy fabric of your shorts. he shrugs. “i don’t know.” he grunts. “maybe.”

you laugh. angling your hips, you dial up the pressure you’re coasting against beneath you when you come closer. daryl straightens to meet you for a kiss, succumbing to you, immersed until you whisper against him, “c’mon, i wanna feel you inside of me.”

daryl raises an eyebrow. “baby, i haven’t stretched you out.”

you shake your head, laughing. “you and rick already took care of that last night. you could stop fucking me for three days and as long as i’m wet-,” you get a blushed out look on your face. “-which isn’t hard around here.”

your lover’s face turns cocky. “you like being ready after being stretched out by two cocks?” pride laces his question. rick could irk him but he did love sharing you with his best friend more than anything.

that pretty little head nods up and down like it’s obvious.

“you gonna take me out and sit on me, baby?”

you’re nodding even more obediently now. falling into the instructions that have your pretty little clit swelling beneath your bottoms. that sends your hands racing to tug down daryl’s jeans, circling your hips as well to quickly spare a hand and work down your shorts. the sight has daryl straining.

“don’t make me wait, you know i can’t,” he complains with a kiss to your neck.

“mhmm,” you hum in agreement and tug down the waistband of his underwear, allowing him to help you with your peach pantone panties.

you involuntarily lick your lips upon seeing his gorgeous cock. the gigantic head primarily has your attention. has it always looked this big? you wonder. you want to take it into your mouth but the urge to give daryl that comfort he deserves has you hovering your already slick pussy above his hardened cock.

all at once, you let your hips descend and the first inch or so of daryl disappears inside of you.

“damn, girl.” the sensation has him crooning and singing your praise as you waste no time rocking up and down to develop that sloppy wetness on him - like you’re greasin’ a fuckin’ pole.

“mhm,” you whine. daryl’s awestruck face, scrunched from how tight you are despite your words, suddenly clears any stress or unease. he’s loving this, you remind yourself. an idea fills your head and before you know it, your begging for a hickey.

“huh?”

“a hickey!” you groan, bouncing with your hands firmly on his chest.

“then c’mere, baby,” and daryl’s clutching you down towards him as soon as you lean in. “i’ll mark you up however you want.” those thoughtful lips imprint into your skin immediately.

you gasp and wriggle against his loving mouth. he feels so wonderful, playfully bruising you with light scrapes of teeth and a roving tongue so well that your thought almost gets fucked out of you.

“want you to mark me up for when rick gets home,” you tell him, panting and squirming with pleasure on top of him.

length brushing against your walls which are flush against him like quicksand, those words are dangerous. he does his best not to fuckin’ jackhammer you to oblivion just at the thought of rick comin’ home to you all purple from daryl’s mouth - the mouth that was already obsessed with your pretty girl clit and taking a vacation between your legs.

“yes, whatever you want, baby.”

“ah!”

you’re not ready for the bite that isn’t as light as you’d expected.

“so tight on me.” daryl chuckles, suckling on the sensitive skin. “felt you clenchin’ like you’re ready, baby girl.”

“does my pussy feel good? squeezin’ you?” you ask, eyelashes fluttering.

daryl almost finished in you right then and there.

“course it does.” he replies without missing a beat. “what kind of question is that?”

the answer and the pace daryl is adopting has you seeing stars. heat is what you plunge into as you slide up and down on daryl. he’s dragging you up and down against him, hands burying fingernail marks in your soft hips while he fucks up into you and worships your shoulder.

the bite to your shoulder is what sends you tumbling into the tirade of pleasure that’s your orgasm.

on the living room sofa, you gasp and cry, tears falling into daryl’s hair as he takes a tit into his mouth, biting down. it’s a soft graze of cautious teeth but you yelp, startled by the pleasure and the spurting of warm come in your tight little cunt.

foreheads bowed against each other’s, you both find a rhythm in your breath - and each other’s lips again.

it’s when you and your lover are unsurprisingly making out again, once you take just a moment to breathe and pull apart, the question’s blurting from your lips;

“you know i love both of you, right?”

daryl softens beneath you. the hands on your waist rub languid, lazy patterns as daryl nods at you. “i do, baby.”

the twinge of a smile is on your lips until you’re suddenly remembering how you got to asking that question and straddling your dare’ like this in the first place. “but you shouldn’t feel that way.”

daryl’s shaking his head, ready to tell you that it’s fine, he’s fine but then you’re saying;

“how could i ever make it up to you, dare?’”

a million possibilities filter through his mind at once. there really isn’t an apology he won’t accept from you.

“how about a hunting trip? just the two of us.”

“i love your mind, baby.” he grunts, bucking up into you with that seemingly impatient, girthy rod.

you giggle in triumph, letting a pretty grin overtake your face. “alright now, back to where we were, huh?” you bear down to capture daryl’s mouth in a kiss, tonguing your way inside for just a brief moment before parting lips. “rick will be back from watch in an hour. how many hickies do you think you can give me before then?”

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dixons-sunshine · 5 months

Note

👉👈 Because your my fav writer for Dad Daryl 👉👈 Just wondering if you’d consider him stepping up as a parental figure for his niece (Merle’s kid) after he “died” and when he actually died 👉👈

I'm Right Here | Uncle!Daryl Dixon x Niece!Reader (platonic/familial)

*GIF isn't mine.*

Summary: With Merle gone, you were the only family Daryl had left. He had unofficially stepped up as your dad, and in those eight months with your actual father "dead", Daryl was a better dad than Merle ever was. And he proved it in more ways than one, even before Merle went missing.

Genre: Fluff, some light angst.

Era: The Quarry, The Prison (season three).

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of blood and death, fear of abandonment.

Word count: 2.4k

A/n: I've been bouncing back and forth between fics and finally managed to finish this. Next up is I Never Lived For The Applause, and then some more young!Daryl. Anyhow, I hope you like this!

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Hey, kiddo. Ya alrigh'?”

“I'm fine. The walkers didn't get me,” you tried to reassure him. “You didn't find my dad?”

You looked up at the sound of your uncle's voice, meeting his intense gaze. You gave him a small, unconvincing smile that he could see through instantly.

Daryl sat down on the log next to you, placing his crossbow down on the ground. He stared ahead at the ashes of the prior night's fire, an unreadable expression on his face. “Nah. Wasn't nothin' to find 'cept his hand. He had to cut it off.”

You winced, absentmindedly grabbing your own hand at the mere thought of the pain that it must've caused your father. Despite your strained relationship with the man for obvious reasons, he didn't deserve that fate—to lose his hand because some people couldn't find another way to deal with his temper.

“Oh,” you mumbled, feeling your heart break. Despite everything, Merle was your father and you loved him. At least he had stuck around. The same couldn't be said for your mother, who had dropped you on Merle's doorstep the moment you were born.

“Yeah,” Daryl responded, instantly picking up on your downtrodden mood but not knowing how to bring you comfort in a moment like that. He'd just essentially told you, his thirteen year old niece that was so wise beyond her years due to the shit Merle had gotten into, that your father was most likely dead. It tore him apart to have to bestow that news on you, but it was necessary. What could he do, lie to you? That was out of the question.

You blinked the tears away that had started to well up in your eyes, trying to put on a brave face for your uncle. “Looks like it's just us now, huh, uncle Daryl? The two remaining Dixons.”

Daryl gave you a tight-lipped smile and ruffled your hair, chuckling quietly at the sound of protest you let out. “Looks like it. We're gon' give the world hell, ya and I. Jus' like the old times.”

You smiled up at him. Even though your father was gone, you still had your uncle, and that made you feel better about everything.

“We are. The world ain't ready for us.”

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“It won't work.”

“S'gotta.”

“It'll stir things up,” Rick told Daryl, adamant with his decision.

“Look, the Governor's probably on the way to the prison righ' now. Merle knows how he thinks, and we could use the muscle,” Daryl replied defiantly, glancing between his companions on the road.

“Do you really want him sleeping in the same cellblock as Carol, Beth or Y/n?” Glenn questioned, unwilling to let Merle, a known hothead and former drug user, near the people he's come to care about.

“He ain't a rapist,” Daryl responded, frowning at Glenn's accusation. “And he sure as hell wouldn't touch his own daughter like tha'. Merle may be sick in some ways, but he ain't like tha'.”

“Yeah, okay, but his buddy is.”

“They ain't buddies no more. Not after last nigh'.”

Rick chipped in to the conversation, turning the archer's attention back to him. “There's no way Merle's gonna live there without putting everyone at each other's throats.”

“What, so ya'd cut Merle loose and bring the last samurai home with us?” Daryl asked, motioning over to Michonne who was waiting for them by the car.

“She's not coming back with us.”

“She's not in a state to be on her own,” Maggie denied, giving Rick a pointed look.

Glenn nodded in agreement to his girlfriend's statement. “She did bring you guys to us.”

“And then ditched us,” Rick stated in a bored tone, eyeing Michonne warily.

“At least let my dad stitch her up?” Maggie asked.

“It's too unpredictable,” Rick denied vehemently, shaking his head.

Daryl nodded in agreement. “He's righ', we dun' know who she is. But Merle... Merle's blood.”

“No. Merle is your blood. My blood, my family is standing right here and waiting for us back at the prison,” Glenn countered, crossing his arms over his chest.

“And you're part of that family,” Rick told Daryl, looking at him expectantly. “He's not. He's not.”

Daryl stayed quiet for a few moments, pondering over his decisions. Thoughts of leaving with Merle, going off and fending for themselves like the old days flashed through his mind, but then he thought of you. You, his sweet, kind, low-key badass, now fourteen year old niece who he'd gone to great lengths to protect over the past eight months. The girl who he'd been taking care of since his brother "died", the girl who had unknowingly started to feel like his own daughter, though he would never tell Merle that. And at that moment, he knew he couldn't just leave. He wouldn't.

“Man, wha' do y'all expect me to tell my niece?” Daryl began, effectively silencing everyone. “Tha' I found her father after all this time and he's alive, but he couldn't come back to her 'cause y'all said so? How's tha' gon' fly with her? Ya'd really deprive the girl a chance at gettin' her father back 'cause of wha' might happen?”

That seemed to really make everyone reconsider. Even Glenn didn't have a counter argument now. Everything was silent for a good thirty seconds while Rick weighed his options, exchanging wordless exchanges with Maggie and Glenn. It was clear that nobody wanted it, but the group couldn't deny Daryl's argument. They cared about you, and it would be unfair for them to deny you the chance of getting your father back.

Rick turned and whistled, signalling Merle over. When he stood in front of him, Rick gripped him by his shirt, getting into his face.

“You're coming with us, but this isn't an invitation for you to be a jackass with everyone back at the prison. The only reason you're even coming back is because of your daughter. If it wasn't for her, you'd be gone.”

Merle's eyes widened the slightest bit with surprise, but it soon morphed back into his usual careless look. “Well, would ya look at tha'. My lil' girl still lives. M'surprised, quite honestly. Didn't think she was built fer this world. Kinda expected her to have kicked the bucket by now.”

“Man, shut up!” Daryl's voice boomed unexpectedly, shutting his brother up. “Dun' make me regret convincin' them to bring ya back. And if ya even say one degradin' thing to yer daughter, I will personally gut ya and feed ya to the walkers. Tha' kid's been through 'nough.”

Unbeknownst to either brother, Rick, Glenn and Maggie had walked ahead to get everything settled into the car, leaving the two brothers to their feud. It was a good idea, too. That was a family matter.

“Wha', ya actually care 'bout her now? Didn't see ya stickin' 'round to play pretend with her back before the world went to shit, and now yer tryna tell me how to parent my own child? Nah, lil' bro. Tha' ain't how it works.”

Daryl scoffed and shoved past him, walking over to the car. He didn't miss the unmistakable sound of Merle's laughter, rolling his eyes at it. He pressed forward and slipped into the passenger's seat, not missing the way everyone tensed up when Merle got into the car.

He just hoped that he hadn't made the wrong decision by bringing Merle back.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

You and Carl were rushing over to the gates when you saw the familiar vehicle enter the courtyard. The car was noticeably more crowded, and with one glance through the window, you were relieved to see your uncle. You had been so worried that something might have happened to him, but there he was, relatively unscathed.

Daryl was barely out of the car when you practically launched yourself into his arms. He stumbled a bit but regained his footing, hugging you tightly to him. He didn't miss the unmistakable sound of your sniffles.

“Hey, kiddo, s'alrigh'. M'okay,” he reassured you in whispered tones, rubbing his hand up and down your back in comfort.

“I was so scared. I couldn't stop fearing the worst,” you choked out, trying to will the sobs away. You buried your face into your uncle's shirt, dampening it slightly with your tears, but he didn't seem to mind.

“M'righ' here. I ain't goin' nowhere, I promise,” he assured you. “No more tears, alrigh'? Ain't no more need fer 'em.”

“Well, ain't this jus' sweet.”

A familiar raspy voice met your ears. You tensed up, pulling away from the hug and turning around, facing the man you had thought to be dead for eight months—your father, Merle Dixon.

“Wha', no hugs fer yer old man, girl?” Merle asked, a grin on his face as he extended his arms in a silent invitation for a hug. “Yer not gon' greet the man who helped with givin' ya life?”

Subconsciously, you took a step back. Daryl stepped in front of you, shielding you with his body. He gave Merle a warning glare before turning to you.

“Why dun' ya go help Hershel with tha' lady we brought back? I know he's been teachin' ya some medical things. It'd do ya good to learn how to do stitches.” You nodded, understanding his underlying message and sped off, leaving him alone with Merle. Daryl turned to face him, a glare on his face. “Man, back the hell off. She ain't gotta give ya anythin' if she dun' want to.”

“Because I was with the enemy?”

“'Cause yer a simple minded piece of shit who never even bothered to play dolls with her, much less give her hugs! Ya wanna know somethin'? When tha' lady dropped her off on our doorstep, who do ya think took care of her when yer ass was too high or drunk to? To answer yer question from earlier, I did stick 'round. I changed her diapers. I bathed her, fed her, stayed up with her at nigh' when ya wouldn't. I took care of her. Ya were jus' too fuckin' out of it most of the time to realise it! Hell, did ya think those things happened magically?”

“Now listen here, bro—” Merle started, but Daryl didn't light up.

“And when she got older, who the hell do ya think took her to school? Picked her up, encouraged her to do the spelling bee, went to parent teacher conferences? Do ya think the fuckin' tooth fairy did tha'? Say wha' ya want, bro, but she dun' owe ya shit. Ya may not have been like dad, but ya weren't a good father, either.”

Merle stayed silent for a moment, the weight of his brother's final statement weighing heavily on his shoulders. “Then why the hell did ya convince 'em to bring me back?”

“'Cause despite everythin', tha' girl still loves ya. And she deserves to have her father 'round,” Daryl responded simply before turning around and stalking off, leaving Merle alone and dumbfounded.

Merle Dixon wasn't right about most things, but one thing he knew for certain he was right about was that you probably didn't care whether he was dead or not. If what Daryl was saying was true, you didn't need him. You had a perfectly good father figure in your life already. Daryl had been a better father to you than your actual father was.

And for some unknown reason, that crushed Merle's heart.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“You found him like that?”

Daryl's heart shattered at the broken sound of your voice. It was the second time that he had needed to tell you that Merle was dead, but this time, it was real. Your father's lifeless corpse layed motionless six feet in the ground in the designated graveyard, Daryl having dragged him there and buried him.

Daryl nodded. “Found him as a walker. He had tried to kill the governor but failed. Son of a bitch got to him first.”

“I should've stopped him. I should've known that something was wrong,” you said, a sob threatening to escape your body. “Before he left, he told me that he was proud of me. That he loved me. I should've known that there was a reason to it. He never told me that before. I should've—”

A choked up sob finally fell past your lips. Daryl instinctively pulled you into his arms, offering to be the pillar of strength for you as you crumbled. Despite everything, Merle was still your father. You still had a handful of good memories with the man—when he wasn't drunk or high, Merle was an okay father. But just okay.

It took a while, but you finally managed to calm down. Instinctively, Daryl pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, running his hand soothingly over your back.

“S'alrigh', kiddo,” he whispered soothingly.

You didn't know what made you say what you said next. Maybe it was the fact that you weren't thinking straight. Maybe it was because you were desperately looking for a pillar of support, you didn't know. But before you could stop it, the words slipped past your lips—

“Please don't leave me. I can't lose you too, Dad.”

A moment of silence passed. Unbeknownst to you, a small smile spread over Daryl's face. He pulled you closer to him.

“Ya still got me. M'here and I ain't goin' nowhere, kid. Yer stuck with me.”

Merle Dixon wasn't always a good man. He wasn't always a good father either. But in the midst of a cruel world, before and after the dead started walking, Merle managed to give Daryl a sweet gift—you, his daughter. Because despite biological relations, you were now truly his.

#krys writes .ೃ࿐#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x female reader #twd daryl #daryl x reader #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader #merle dixon #the walking dead

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dixonsgirl93 · 4 months

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Merle Dixon & his hands

#Merle Dixon #merle dixon x you #merle dixon imagines #twd merle dixon #merle dixon x reader #merle dixon imagine #merle dixon x yn

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betyloca · 7 months

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Imagine: being friends with the Dixon brothers and they discover your scars from your father's abuse

It had been a long day, you had to go get supplies and on the way kill some walkers.

You were in your room in the prison, it was very hot. You began to take off your boots and left your bow next to the bed. You sat up, taking off your pants and long-sleeved shirt.

You were in your underwear you looked in the drawer putting on some shorts putting them on you looked at your scars on your thighs you traced the lines of your marks not only did you have them there but also on your back and arms one of the reasons why you wore baggy clothes

You didn't hear the footsteps coming to your cell until the curtain opened and a voice came out.

Daryl: hey y/n do you want to go with me and merle.....

Y/n: daryl!!

You stood up immediately, covering yourself with a coat, wanting him not to see your scars.

Daryl: What happened to you?

Y/n: go away

Daryl: hey just...

He tried to make himself but you interrupted him

Y/N: Go away, I don't want you here, go away, that doesn't bother you, get out.

You started yelling at him as you threw a pillow at him.

Merle: What the hell is going on, why all the fuss?

You looked at him without saying anything, Daryl just watched you in silence.

Merle: And they're not going to tell me why they were shouting or they're idiots.

You didn't want to talk about it, you just stayed silent looking at the ground.

Daryl: It was your father, wasn't it?

You felt, ignoring the lump in your throat and the tears that stung your eyes.

Merle: What the fuck are you talking about?

You turned around, taking off your coat, showing your back with deep scars. You heard Merle curse and Daryl let out a gasp of anguish.

Daryl: Why didn't you tell us that it hurt you?

Y/n: you guys already had problems because it would bring you more.

Merle: We would have gotten you out of there, you didn't have to be a fool and hide it.

Y/n: I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I was scared.

You said while you were crying you felt how they surrounded you hugging you

Daryl: You are not alone, we are the same.

You hugged them tighter, you felt Daryl leave a kiss on your forehead while Merle caressed your scars.

Merle: If it makes you feel better, I think they make you look sexier with them, sweetheart.

You just laughed when you heard him looking at him

Y/n: yes you know how to make me smile

Merle: Do you think I'm joking, you look very hot with those brands?

Daryl: okay, enough, Merle.

Merle: Are you jealous, if you want, I'll give you love too, little brother.

She said as she hugged him and tried to kiss him.

Merle: Come on, Dalena, give me a kiss.

Daryl: Fuck, let go of me.

You laughed, they always seemed to be rude but they always made you smile when you felt bad.

Merle: Come on Y/N, give Mr. Jealous a kiss.

y/n: okay

You walked up to give him a kiss while merle held him and tried to give him one too.

Daryl: Let me go, you crazy bunch.

They gave him kisses on the cheek until they let him go while you laughed.

Daryl: Fuck.

He said wiping his cheeks

Merle: It's Y/N's turn.

y/n: hey no

You said trying to run away while Daryl grabbed you while you laughed.

Daryl: It's my revenge, honey.

He said kissing your cheeks while Merle also did it, tickling you.

How did you treat these men

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon #merle dixon x reader #merle dixon imagines #merle dixon #twd x reader #twd imagine #twd headcanons

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sadslay · 4 months

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- SNOOKER ⋆☆ 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

warnings - pre-apocalypse daryl <3, kinda light nsfw, mentions of smoking and alcohol, merle dixon 💀

typically you declined going out on a week night, but you’re best friend - josephine - was freshly single and needed distracting, and the perfect distraction just walked over. merle dixon.

“couple’a dolls like yourselves know how to play snooker?” a man asked and his hand snaked around your friends shoulder.

josey smiled as you both recognized the man. “yes sir.” she grinned, leaning into his touch. “you got a partner or we playin’ trios?” she asked, looking up into his dilated eyes.

personally you have only interacted with merle dixon a handful of times and all of then involved him dealing some sort of drug or pill to a friend if yours. he was well known around your small town but someone who was a little lesser known was his little brother daryl who was sitting across the pub waiting by the snooker tables.

“see my little brother over there?” merle questioned, his voice drawn out and slurred as he peered over to daryl before looking at your near by friend, giving her a once over. “he’ll be our fourth.” he added.

you gave daryl a little wave only to be met with a almost unnoticeable smile. daryl didn’t look too much older then you and your friend, maybe only by a couple of years, but daryl had always been the quiet brother. he was always the one to pull merle away from a fight or bail him out of the cells. daryl seemed so vastly different to merle, yet freakishly similar.

“he can be your partner sweetheart.” merle chuckled noticing the prolonged eye contact between the two of us.

you looked up at the older man, flashing him a honeyed smile before sliding off your chair. there maybe an inch or two height difference between you and merle making the man step back. letting out a soft giggle you walked towards daryl as he sorted the balls into a wooden triangle.

you leant up again the pool table, your hands on the wooden trim as you asked, “is it alright if i’m your partner?”

daryl looked up at you. he had taken notice of your short pleated skirt. his mouth slightly gaped open in awe as you waited for his response. “yeah.” he stammered. “why wouldn’t it be?”

“s’just i’ve never played pool before.” you shrugged. “not properly anyways, not since i was a kid.” you shyly admitted as a soft smile crept onto your lips from the fond memory of playing pool with your siblings.

it was like he almost forgot how to breath as you played with the rings on your fingers. these gorgeous rings that held colourful gemstones that matched your eyes and freshly painted nails. “i can teach you.” he stuttered, barely able to look at you.

“y’all done? or can we play?” merle snickered from the other end of the table causing your cheeks to blush and daryl’s brows to furrow.

“piss of.” he grumbled, removing the wooden triangle allowing merle to break.

merle let out a bellowing laugh as he made his shot, sending the brightly coloured balls flying across the table. “we’re solids darlin’.” merle murmured, his southern drawl more prominent the more he drank.

once the balls stilled, daryl looked at you, extending the cue stick out. “you wanna go first?” he asked, his eyes barely meeting yours.

“you can go first.” you smiled, entirely too nervous you’d mess up the shot. daryl nodded before looking back at the table. “how do you know which ones to go for?” you asked quietly, just loud enough for only daryls ears to hear.

daryl let out a soft laugh, making your cheeks glow red as he pointed towards the table. “we're tryin’ to hit the ones with the coloured strip.”

you slowly nodded, showing daryl that you understood before he spun back around towards the table. he lined up his shot and with one powerful push the balls scattered across the table, one of them landing in a corner pocket. you let out a squeal of excitement, making daryl's cheeks to blush.

“good shot!” you exclaimed, as daryl turned back to look at you. but your smile quickly faded to a worried frown as daryl handed you the cue stick. “oh no i can’t, i don’t know how.” you stuttered.

he forced the stick into your hand, the brief skin to skin contact with each other making your stomach flutter. you shuffled closer to the table, trying to find a shot that would be easy enough for you to not mess up.

"as long as ya hit that white ball, yer did good." he encouraged, watching you as you leant over the table to begin lining up your shot. for a moment daryl watched you, trying his hardest to keep his eyes on the table. "here." he mumbled.

daryl moved closer to you, his body caging yours against the table while one hand adjusted far end of the cue stick and the other pointed to the ten ball on the far end of the table.

"there's no way i'll hit that." you whispered, unintentionally leaning a little further back into daryl.

he let out a stiff laugh before mumbling, "yes you will. just give it a soft tap."

when the warmth of daryl's body left yours, you took in a deep breath and lined up your shot. you hit the cue ball the best you could but just grazed the ten ball, moving it further a away from the pocket.

"shit." you huffed, your eyebrows furrowing as you stepped back from the table. you heard a snicker from the other end of the table. josey clung to merle like her life depended on it while he laughed at your inability to hit the ball. "somethin' funny?" you snapped.

merle's hands flung up in defense as you handed the cue stick to daryl. "nah, nothin' darlin'." he let out a bellowing laugh causing your friend to giggle.

"don't worry about him." daryl spoke, his southern drawl more apparent then ever as you leant on the wall beside him. "he's even more of an asshole when he drinks." he chuckled.

apparently the more you drank the better at the game you got, and now with the game coming to an end, you were starting to get confused by the rules surrounding the eight ball.

"can't i just hit it into any pocket?" you asked, earning a throaty chuckle from merle and a snicker from your friend. “whats so funny?.” you asked as you looked at daryl who had a soft smile creeping onto his lips.

"ya gotta call it." he chuckled softly, stepping a little bit closer to look at the best pocket for you to aim for. "otherwise we loose the game." he spoke in a low whisper, his hand rising at it pointed to pocket to the left of the eight ball. "call that one."

you let out a sign, now feeling like an idiot at you began to line up your shot. at the other end of the table you saw merle all over josey and she adored his attention. your attention was quickly pulled away when you felt daryl behind you as his arms reached around you to adjust your cue stick.

“jus’ focus on hittin’ that white ball straight.” he whispered, his breath by your ear and cheek making your skin crawl with goosebumps.

you were now ten times for nervous as daryl had himself pressed up against you. “i don’t think i’ll get it in.” you admitted, turning your head to look at the man.

he smiled shyly. “you’ll get it,” before pulling away, giving you the room you needed.

taking in a deep breath you lined up your shot like daryl had taught you and as you exhaled the ball shot straight into the corner pocket. after a brief moment of shock, daryl’s words of encouragement caused you to jump up and down as your celebrated your shot.

“i can’t believe i got it in!” you sang, jumping towards daryl to give him a high five. "does that mean we won?" you questioned in disbelief, looking at merle and your friend as they wallowed in their defeat. looking at daryl you saw him smiling as he nodded his head. “we won!” you squealed running to daryl before pulling him into a hug as you spun around.

as you settled down you looked across at josephine as she dug through her bag. you let out a breath of air before getting a pack of cigarettes from the waistband of your skirt. “lookin’ for these?” you smirked shaking the packet to grab her attention. she smiled before walking towards you, trying to snatch the packet from your hands. “play nice.” you giggled.

wrapping her hand around your waist, josey smiled, “come on sweets,” she slurred before beginning to pull you towards the smoking pit.

“y’all runnin’ out on us?” merle snickered from the booth he had sat down in.

“we’ll be back!” you both sang.

as the pair of you sat in the dimly lit smoke pit, you giggled about your encounter with the dixon brothers, josephine sharing her new found infatuation with merle. as you sat down on the weathered wooden benches you pulled the lighter out from the paper packet before lighting a single cigarette. you took in a few breathes before handing the cigarette to josey.

taking in a deep breath, joseu leant back against the cool concrete wall. “you ‘nd daryl were gettin’ close.” she smirked.

“he’s nice.” you shrugged, taking the cigarette from josey’s hand. “could say the same for you ‘nd merle.” you giggled.

before she could snap back with a comment the heavy glass door swung open. daryl walked out alone with a cigarette hanging between his lips. his eyes instantly drawn to you, you were even more beautiful under the moonlight he thought.

“you’re brother comin’ out?” josey asked him as he stood a few feet away, looking through his pockets for a lighter.

daryl shrugged, “dunno.” he mumbled. “think he’s gettin’ more drinks.” daryl added.

abruptly, josephine stood up with a smug grin plastered on her face. "i'll leave you to it." she sang, skipping towards the door, only to stop as she pulled the door open. "be a good girl sweets!" she let out a laugh that came from her stomach before disappearing inside.

a silence hung between you and daryl. it wasn't awkward or necessarily comfortable but it a much needed moment of stillness. your eyes were drawn back to daryl who was still calmly searching for a lighter. you took the cigarette from between your lips and extended your hand, offering it to daryl.

"yer sure?" only now you had noticed how low and horse his voice was. you nodded as daryl stepped forward and took the cigarette. "thanks." he mumbled, sitting down beside you. “how’d you get the name sweets?” he asked, taking in a deep breath of smoke.

his southern drawl made your heart flutter. you let out a soft giggle as your cheeks warmed. "when josey and i were kids, i always had sweets on me." you explained, noticing the soft smile creeping onto daryls lips. "and i guess the name just stuck." you shrugged.

daryl handed back the cigarette as he spoke in a hushed manner. "s'cute."

while you took in another breath of smoke, daryl admired you up close. she was beautiful, one of the prettiest girls he'd ever seen, but her beauty was not like those girls in merles magazines, she was beautiful for that sparkle in her eye whenever she managed to hit a ball while playing snooker. she wasn't beautiful for something as temporary as her look, daryl thought, she was beautiful deep down to her soul. her hair sat on her shoulders, so close to touching his shoulders he had to fight every urge to lean in closer. your hair smelt like a mix of vanilla and tobacco and it drove daryl crazy.

"what?" you laughed softly, putting the cigarette out in a near by ashtray. "s'my lipstick smeared?" your voice was riddled with concern making daryl chuckle.

"nah."

something about him had you entirely infatuated with him. it made you want to know every little secret of his and know the little things that make him happy. the music from inside was now a distant echo as the tension between you was palpable. you inched a little closer, now you could feel his body heat radiating off him. it might have been to copious amounts of alcohol talking but-

"i really want to kiss you right now."

you were drunk, you weren’t thinking clearly daryl thought, there was no way-

“m’sorry, i shouldn’t have said,”

“s’okay.” daryl quickly cut in, now realizing he had made you embarrassed which was the last thing he wanted to do right now.

daryl then did something you hadn’t expected. he leant forward, the space between you close to nonexistent as he placed a gentle kiss on the corner of your lips. he couldn’t scare you away, not after everything that had happened tonight, but something about the small amount of contact had ignited something within him. the space between you was quickly closed again as his lips met your again, this time with more depth and erotism then before.

your hands snaked their way up to the base of daryls neck as you pulled him impossibly closer. your breathing had become desperate just like your lust for daryl as his hand connected with your bare thigh. his hand inched up your thigh, his fingers digging into your skin making your back arch.

in a desperate attempt for air you pulled your lips away from his, to your surprise hearing a groan of impatience. “wanna get outta here?” you whispered into his heard, planting a tantalizingly slow kiss behind his ear.

yes! yes! yes! "uh huh." he smiled, trying to manage his breathing as he began to search for his keys.

you pressed another kiss onto the side of his neck before noticing what he was doing. "are you okay to drive?" you asked in a low whisper as he finally fished out his keys.

daryl nodded, standing up and extending his hand. "i've only have one drink." he spoke quietly, taking your hand to help you stand before beginning to pull you towards the door back into the bar. "'nd i had it a few hours ago." daryl added holding the door open as you walked inside.

as you walked by the bar you gave josey a wink before following daryl dixon out the bar door into the dimly lit carpark. your hand held onto daryl's tightly as he led you to his triumph bonneville motorcycle.

"i've never been on a motorcycle before." you admitted as daryl began to mount his bike.

your cheeks warmed as daryl let out a grumbled laugh. "did yer need help gettin' on?" he asked, looking down at your pleather pumps. he stuck out his arm, letting you use him as support as you mounted his bike. "ya good?" he asked as your body molded against his.

you hummed in response and seconds later daryl put the key in the ignition and started the engine. as he began to roll the bike forward your arms quickly wrapped around his waist. you could heard daryls chuckle as he sped up while turning onto the highway that neighbored the bar. the cool night air felt sobering and euphoric. for the first few minutes of the ride your hands were tightly hugging daryls torso but as you grew more comfortable your grip loosened.

sooner then you had wished, daryl began to slow down before turning into the trailer park on the outside of town. the roar of the engine grew quiet as he parked out the front of a trailer on the far end of the park before turning off the ignition. you combed your hair out of your face and just as you went to get off the bike, daryl held out his arm again so you could steady yourself. you grinned as you dismounted the warm humming bike.

"have fun?" he asked, pushing himself off the bike, your hand still holding onto his his as he led you towards the door.

as he fiddled around with his house keys, the jangling of the nickle and silver being the only noise in the cool night air, you stepped a little closer to daryl. "i bet i can have more fun inside." you whispered in his ear, making the man freeze in his tracks.

your breaths filled the air, the quiet night air and it was taking every morsel in his body not to push you up against the cool tin exterior of his trailer. he pushed the door open and placed both his hands on the sides of your hips, guiding you inside while the door swung shut. daryl spun you around making you giggle but you were quickly met with his lips. his breath was warm and bitter, tasting of tobacco.

the intoxication of it all made your head spin. your hands gripped onto the back of his neck to not only keep you close but also upright. daryls hands hoisted you up around his waist making you gasp for air. daryl knew his trailer like the back of his hand, so with no problem he lowered you both onto the small two person couch, letting your legs drape on the sides of his waist. his hands were all over your body, running painfully slow from the tops of your thighs all the way up to your chest.

your lips slowly drifted from his as your body began to slide down until your knees connected with the lino flooring. daryl was in a dazed state of euphoria and he had only noticed your distance once he heard the clattering of his belt. looking up at daryl through your eyelashes made his breathing quicken, and suddenly it all felt so real.

“yer don’t have to.” he breathed, his hands grasping onto the couch.

slowly you peeled open his jeans, looking at daryl as he squirmed under your touch. “do you want me to stop?” you asked, your hands resting on his thighs.

“i should,” daryl began to mumble, finally making you understand.

“i want to.” you cut him off, smiling as you continued to peel away the denim. “i want you daryl.” you leant up and gave him a soft open mouth kiss.

as your lips parted once again, daryls head fell back. the state of euphoria had once again consumed him and his head began to spin. he took a fist full of your hair and gave it a weak tug. the noises alone drove him crazy and there was no way he could last much longer.

“come ‘ere.” he grunted, finally looking down at you.

smiling at his urgency, you stood up and make quick work of removing your skirt, and slowly you sat down on daryls lap. your hands wrapped around daryls neck as your lips pressed together again. daryls hands gripped onto your thighs, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

“you’re s’beautiful.” daryl mumbled, one of his hands moving from your thigh to your back to support you as you began to roll you hips. “such a good girl.”

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twigg96 · 2 months

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Daryl Dixon name HC

So. I always Head cannoned that Merle got his name because he was an emergency C-section his mom was under and his dad was too drunk to properly pronounce Micheal, or something.

Daryl was just another drunken slur of his father. Another C-section had the mother under the knife. But I always Head cannoned that this time their father wasn’t even in the room passed out somewhere for Daryl’s emergency birth. And that left a very young Merle to tell the doctors what to write on the birth certificate until his momma woke up.

I always thought well. Merle sounds a hell of a lot like Daryl. Merle just switched the M in his name with a D and named his brother Daryl by retrospect. But then. I realized.

Daryl was an extremely popular name in the 70’s and 80’s. It was the name of a few lead singers and probably a few people in town. Merle probably knew a few kind Daryl’s. He named his kid brother after a Daryl maybe because his Momma was obsessed with a Daryl she listened to and swooned to on the radio. Or he named him after someone he respected. He named him after someone he wanted to be just like when he grew up. Already dreading the idea of growing up like his dad.

#the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon #daryl twd #merle dixon #daryl dixon imagine #head canon

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 1 year

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Merle was slumped back in his camp chair, nursing a hangover, picking his teeth, and generally scowling at the rest of the camp. It wasn’t lost on him how Daryl had seemingly been choosing to spend time with you lately and he didn’t like it. Merle could see that Daryl was staring at you across camp at that exact moment, watching as you tucked some collected flowers into the little braids you’d done in Sophia’s hair.

He pulled himself up to his full height and the gravel crunched beneath his boots. As he stopped beside Daryl, his little brother tore his gaze away and refocused on the whetstone and knife in his hands. “That the kinda girl you like?” Merle drawled, removing the toothpick from his mouth. “Soft. Weak...” He spat onto the dirt beside the stump Daryl was sitting on.

Daryl bristled and shifted away from his brother. “She ain’t soft,” he said adamantly. “I wouldn’t say that...” he trailed off, glancing back up and taking in the way the sunshine was illuminating the shine in your hair, the wide smile on your face, and the gentle way you always were with the kids. His heart jumped and he felt a jittery, nervous energy run through him. “Just cuz she ain’t an asshole who fights with every sip of liquor, Merle, dun make her soft.”

His older brother scoffed. “You better be careful, little brother. Or she’ll make you soft too. This world’s gonna eat her up and spit her out. You’ll see.” The diminishing crunch of the gravel was a relief, and Daryl’s eyes lifted and landed on you again.

At just that moment, you happened to look up, and perhaps you’d felt his gaze because you looked his way and the smile on your face widened, the light in your eyes staggering. Daryl gulped and stared back down at his hands. Maybe you were soft, but not in the way Merle meant it... and Daryl? Lord knows he needs some softness in his fucking life, the kind he could sink into and get lost in...

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles #merle dixon

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wannabespacesmuggler · 3 months

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D.D. | Shane's Girl

Part Seven | Masterlist | Buy me a coffee | Check out the playlist

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x female!Reader

Warnings: Merle Dixon sucks, unedited (I will get to it later, I promise)

Word Count: 1.1K

Author’s Note: SO, your boy's a blue-collar worker currently struggling through increased heat and hours during the summer, but I love this fic and no matter how much time passes I will continue to come back to this guy. Let me know what y'all think of this one & let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist. And thank you for your continued support for this lil fic -- it means the world to me.

“Tonight’s the night, little brother.”

Merle’s voice tears through the silence in their makeshift camp. Daryl peers up at Merle from his crouched position -- the younger Dixon had been going through their food supply before Merle came storming in. Daryl rolls his eyes at the interruption. Although he’s known his brother his entire life, it always surprises him how different the two are. All he’s heard his entire life is: those Dixon brothers, two sides of the same coin. However, where Daryl is reserved, Merle is intrusive, and where Daryl is observant, Merle is careless. Although the two brothers are cut from the same backwoods cloth, they seem to have less in common than one would think.

Daryl ignores his brother’s outburst, returning his attention to their limited rations. He lets out a frustrated sigh before strategizing.

“We’re running low on food. I’ll go out hunting tomorrow. Rest of the group is headed out to scavenge the city; might wanna join ‘em.”

Merle brushes past Daryl, snatches the last bag of jerky from their pile of food, and begins chowing down in front of his younger brother. Daryl furrows his brow at his brother’s actions. Before he can lash out at him for being so irresponsible with their rations, Merle speaks up.

“Won’t have to worry ‘bout any of that after tonight.”

Daryl’s head cocks to the side as he tears his attention away from their inventory and now focuses intently on his brother.

“The hell are you on about?”

Merle rolls his eyes at Daryl’s question as if the younger Dixon should be able to read his mind.

“We’ve been ‘er long enough. I say we wait til everyone’s asleep tonight and take everything we can.”

Daryl shrinks at the thought of just robbing the camp blind. Merle had mentioned the idea during their first night at the quarry; however, Daryl figured, as days passed, that the older Dixon brother had decided against the idea. Apparently, Daryl was wrong.

“I don’t know, man.”

Daryl’s apprehension seems to only rile his brother up more.

“C’mon little brother, everything they have is just sitting in that camper -- it’s like they’re begging us to take it!”

Daryl shakes his head at his brother’s words. They can’t -- he can’t. He doesn’t want that weighing on his guilty conscience for the rest of his numbered days. The world may have ended, but Daryl hasn’t lost his humanity yet. He can’t steal from children, or families, or you. He pushes himself off the floor before responding.

“Nah, man. Not now.”

Daryl attempts to brush past Merle, leaving the conversation there; however, Merle roughly pushes against Daryl’s chest. Daryl staggers for a second before regaining his balance. He looks incredulously at his brother, who seems to be champing at the bit. Merle’s always been impatient, and he’s never liked to stay in one place for too long, even before the end of the world. On the other hand, Daryl knows there’s safety in numbers nowadays -- who knows how long the two of them would be able to make it on their own? And what of the quarry camp -- would they just leave them to turn on themselves?

“This was always the plan, Daryl. What’s changed, huh?”

“Your plan sucks, man. We don’t even know what’s out there -- how many of ‘em are out there! At least here we’re safe.”

His reasoning does nothing to calm down Merle. Daryl is suddenly very glad that the two brothers were so far away from the rest of the camp -- the last thing he wants is for Merle to make scene, again.

“What you making friends while I’m gone? You going soft on me?”

“Fuck off, Merle.”

Merle doesn’t take the bait, instead, he studies his younger brother’s face for a second. Suddenly, it’s as if a switch has been flipped as Merle’s face breaks out into a shit eating grin.

“You are going soft on me.”

It comes out as a statement, not a question. This only causes Daryl’s brow to furrow deeper.

“What are you talking about?”

“This is all about that bitch, right?”

Daryl’s blood boils at Merle’s question. His jaw locks, and his fists clench as he attempts to stop himself from throwing himself at his older brother. Merle seems to be enjoying how his words make Daryl’s skin crawl.

“Little brother, I never thought you’d be one to go after a taken woman.”

Daryl knows that Merle is just trying to get a rise out of him; he just wants a reaction. And as much as his words are pissing him off, Daryl knows that he simply has to act indifferent to his accusation.

“You could take her with us. Could use something fun on the road.”

Daryl grinds his teeth together at the thought, but he will not give Merle the satisfaction of causing an outburst from his younger brother.

“Shut up, Merle.”

“Can’t believe some bitch has already got you whipped.”

Finally, something in Daryl snaps as Merle sneers at him. He gets up in Merle’s face, attempting to intimidate his older brother, but he doesn’t back down.

“This ain’t got nothin’ to do with her. She don’t mean nothing to me!”

Daryl expects him to escalate the fight; however, Merle’s face shifts into that shit-eating grin once again as his eyes land on something behind Daryl’s shoulder. Daryl turns to face whatever has piqued Merle’s interest, his curiosity getting the better of him, and his stomach drops as his eyes land on you. Daryl’s face immediately softens as he notices the hurt etched into your features. Without a word, you turn and head back toward camp.

“Wait… damn it.”

As much as Daryl wants to race after you and explain, he lets you go, knowing he’d just hurt you more -- he’s still seething from his confrontation with Merle, and you’re probably still processing what you just overheard.

“Uh-oh. Trouble in paradise?”

Daryl ignores his brother’s question and moves to retire to their tent for the night, but Merle sidesteps, stopping him in his tracks. Before Daryl can question his motives, Merle speaks.

“I did you a favor, little brother.”

Daryl looks at his brother in disbelief.

“All I did was show her who you truly are.”

“You’re a fucking asshole.”

Daryl pushes past him and enters their tent. He wants to blame Merle for what just happened, but he’s the one who lost his temper. And he only lost his temper because Merle was right. He can’t rob the camp and then sneak away in the middle of the night because that means he’d have to leave you behind -- and he just can't do it. Not after you opened up to him about Shane. He lets out a frustrated sigh as he lays down his worn sleeping bag. What do you think of him now? Is he just another asshole to you, like Shane or Merle? He wants to think he’s better than that.

But maybe Daryl is wrong.

Maybe the Dixon brothers really are two sides of the same bad-tempered, jagged coin -- but that won’t stop him from trying to prove the opposite, as long as you let him.

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