#daryl dixon x fem!reader

[writella]

A Different Kind of Ride

Synopsis: Reader wants to ride Daryl’s bicep!

Details: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader. Just smut, (bicep) riding, masturbation (m). I think they’re both giving switch vibes, they enjoy watching, and are obsessed with their partner’s body. Overall, lots of grinding, desperation, and Daryl wanting to panty sniff— slay. Mostly proofread. wc: 1.7k.

A/N: Literally sighing and moaning and licking my lips while thinking about this. He’s so fine. Also hi!!! I missed you all. with love, writella. ♡

The scene starts in his room. He’s laying almost slanted on the bed. His head rests near the bottom half of where the pillows reside. His shirt is off, but his pants remain. His tools and weapons were still attached to his lower hips. He was dirty. Grimey and sweaty. Small strands of his hair sticking to his face, while the rest fell effortlessly above his shoulders and onto the bed.

You, on the other hand, were clean. Dried, soft, and smelling of fresh creamy white soap in your pajamas, all ready for sleep.

You didn’t care though. That’s what you get when you want him. And you liked the rattle, and cling, and thump of his belt as you continued to bounce and grind down on the area where his cock resides. Clothed and covered under two layers but the way his bulge pressed and squished perfectly into you was more than enough. Not to mention how the seam of your shorts made its way into your folds adding an extra amount of friction that scratched your clit just perfectly.

It all felt just as good as having him inside of you, honestly. Your eyes rolled back and then closed, your mouth stays slightly open. Your top teeth come to bite your bottom lip every time you rocked forward and the feeling was just right. You start pushing deeper and harder, your hands rest of his chest for assistance as your eyes screw tight: you were focused.

“Need you, need you, want you; it feels so good; please, please,” are the thoughts that scream inside you as you quickly and tightly press down into his groin and then start to jump: imagining him thrusting into you all short and fast— it feels like a little a bounce-bounce-bounce-bounce motion, accompanied in unison by pants that make you go into a quick and breathy “hm-hm-hm-hm.”

Then you start to rock on him again, it’s like an ocean wave: pushing up as high as you can go, and then pushing all the way down and letting your clit feel him from bottom to top— “mmm, ah,” you whine.

Your eyes are scrunched so tight, giving it your all, trying your bestest like the good little girl you are; determined to make yourself come. You needed it.

And Daryl sees it. He watches. Mesmerized by the focus and determination of your entire body.

He can’t tell if he’s the one in control because of your desperation and how little you need from him to get you soaked, or if it’s you because of your position, and because of how effortlessly you have taken control to reach your high.

Either way, you’re both intoxicated by each other. You were on him almost instantly as he entered the room, after all. And he let it happen. You told him you missed him, you went to hug him, he kissed your forehead and messed up your hair, giving you a sleepy “hey,” with a bashful smile only saved for you. Then wordlessly he let you take off his vest and shirt, pushing him onto the bed— which did nothing in actuality, he was almost immovable, but as your hands pressed on his shoulders, he went down anyway. Down for the ride, enjoying the sight.

So much so that his eyes are dazed as the look upon you. Looking at how your waist contorts in unison with the rock of your hips on top of him, how your nipples harden under your shirt, how putting your hands on his chest and every time he makes one of his dark and gruffy sounds makes your pussy jerk and you moan louder.

His hands grab onto your hips, pushing you forward. He sees how the shape of your little shorts molded into your pussy lips as you grind down. He bets they’re drenched in that area now. If you come in them, he wants to suck on it, and then rip them off and eat you out when you’re done.

His hands trail higher, securing themselves onto your waist. You grab his arms then as you continue to rock, going from his forearms to his biceps, feeling the curves. You open your eyes, you don’t even catch his entrancement at the area of where your bodies meet. You focus on the divets of his arms, how strong he is, how big he is. It makes you whine frustratingly, pushing into him faster.

Suddenly, you get off of him and onto your knees, hurrying to take your shorts off.

Daryl’s eyes don’t even look at you, “Give ‘em,” he says as you reach for the hem. He looks straight at the wet and sweaty pair on you, eyeing the wet spot that has spread in the area of your mound. Truly he could see almost everything despite the cover by the way they folded into you.

The demand doesn’t even surprise you as much as it excites you. You throw them at his face. No questions.

You extend his arm on the bed, his hand sprawled flat. Stroking it, you breathlessly say, “I want this.” You're desperate but you wait for approval, but he has his other hand on his face, holding your thrown shorts over his nose and mouth like a mask, breathing you in. His breath inward is loud and it’s followed by a deep and raspy hum. It made your pussy jut, your eyes widen, your mouth gasp. You whine impatiently, inserting your finger into your hole as he moves the part with the seam to his nose, breathing it in again, and then, sucking it dry with his mouth, watching your fingers spread more wetness all over your pussy.

You moan and your body shakes with his eye contact. “Please?” You ask him with a pout.

He moves his arm you held to use both hands to undo his belt. He sees that you continue to rub your clit with a sad look on your face as you wonder what he’s going to do. He drops his pants to the ground and you watch his boxers make a tent on top of his hard cock as he places his arm back where you put it.

“Go on,” he tells you finally, giving you a nod. “Do whatever you want.”

Ecstatically, you move your knees on either side of him, lowering down, and letting your wet pussy lips open around the curves of his upper arm, taking up as much of him as they can. It’s only a little, your tiny lips can only cover so much, but it feels great. You clit presses down against his arm perfectly, getting the direct attention you desired.

You begin to rock and it feels as perfect as you expected. Your mouth opens again and your eyes flutter close, focusing on your task— riding his bicep and making yourself come. You were determined.

Daryl’s dick twitches as he watches you. His other hand comes behind his head, resting it under him to tilt his head up a bit, getting more comfortable as he gazes on your blissed out expression.

It felt great to know how attracted you were to him. That even his arms alone could have your pussy become a sopping mess. At this rate he knew you would come tonight from that alone. The thought makes precum slip from his tip and make him grunt and hum lowly; he just couldn’t get enough of watching you. Like a little horny-teenaged-babygirl discovering grinding for the first time, doing it on anything she could to feel a release.

It made him finally push down his boxers and touch himself. He spits on his hand and begins to stroke his cock. He started to pump, his grunts becoming more strangled, he couldn’t even attempt to start edging eventually. You looked so cute and pathetic, so sexy. He wanted to come with you.

You moan from your movements and from hearing his voice. It makes your eyes flutter open as your head tilts, catching a glimpse of Daryl working on himself which makes you open them all the way. Now you rock as you watch him. “Oh, Daryl,” you plead.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” He asks gruffly. Giving you direct eye contact as he pumps.

“I’m making you want to touch yourself like that?” You ask sweetly, giggling as you continue to rub your clit just right against him. “Huh, Daryl?” His dick and his hand looked so veiny and angry as pumped. It made you moaned again. “Fuck, you’re so handsome.”

Daryl almost chokes on his breath. Every mean and grumpy comment he could have left him. All he has grunts and you can swear he almost growls because of your little smile and the way he watches your breasts fall out from your shirt as you take it off. He’s speechless and pumping into his hand faster, watching as your pussy tries to engulf the entirety of his arm.

You grind down faster, pushing and pushing forward and backward on his bicep until you feel a yummy hotness rise. Your clit felt like it was on fire with goodness, you finally were about to explode. You pant and moan and Daryl begins to pump himself harder. His hand slapping against his skin, his voice making a low sound every time he reaches the end of his shaft. All there is, is the sound of him and you and your voices— nonsensical, reaching your peaks.

Your breath hitches, and your hands come to the bed, your back arches and your head tilts forward as you go harder and harder, furiously pushing into him until finally— “OH!”— you come.

He isn’t far behind. He watches your eyes roll back and your mouth open wide, your moan and the feeling of his arm being drenched telling him you reached your orgasam which makes him do so as well. A strangled groan, quick and paused, erupts and is then interrupted by another more loud moan as hot spurts of white jump out onto his leg and the bed.

You look on breathlessly. Your movements now slowed but continuous as you bring yourself down from your high, his come messing up the sheets making you whine from the sight.

When you both catch your breaths and you move your thighs from his arm his hands grab you by the hips. His movements direct you to sit on his groin as you once did before.

He wants to see how you ride on his cock now.

And of course, you oblige.

[celtic-crossbow]

gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams

Daryl, handing Y/N his crossbow: Wait here.

Y/N, eyes sparkling with wonder: You’re giving me your crossbow?

Daryl: M’lettin’ ya hold my crossbow.

Y/N, deadpan: You’re serious?

Daryl, arching a brow: M’always serious.

Y/N: I swear, walkers have more fun.

Daryl, scoffing: They’re dead.

Y/N: Like your sense of humor.

[lilgoblinbitch]

☾₊˚ ༘⋆

daryl dixon is a munch.

that man LOVES eating your pussy. everything about it makes him rock fucking hard; your moans, the way you tangle your hands in his hair when he licks and sucks your pulsing cunt, and how you wrap your thighs around his head ensuring he doesn’t stop. but he doesn’t stop, he keeps going. his face is between your legs for 10 minutes, 30 minutes, hell sometimes even hours. he just can’t get enough.

daryl dixon also likes to fuck.

he loves watching your eyes roll to the back of your skull while he pounds into you, hips rutting into your core with his big hands manhandling your thighs. he always makes you feel good. always paying special attention to your sensitive little bud.

“feels so good, daryl.” you’d say.

“doin’ s’good f’me, baby.”

he loves praising you. you’re always so good for him. your cunt is a prison, and his cock is the prisoner; except he won’t be bailing out.

☾₊˚ ༘⋆

[ladywuvly]

♱ long before (s2!daryl dixon x green!f!reader)

summary|| As fate would have it, a devastating tragedy compelled your father to open up your front gates to a group of families seeking refuge from the new world. Amidst the unexpected turn of events, a certain individual with piercing blue eyes, a colorful vocabulary, and a rugged charm manages to capture your attention. However, as tensions rise and emotions become complicated, you're forced to confess your deepest desires. wc: 6.9k

warnings|| MDNI; 18+ content, semi-public, blood/violence + mentions of, swearing, size kink (if you squint), smut, fingering/handjob (f!m!receiving), unprotected sex (p!v), rough sex, bodily fluids (sp!t/squ!rt), praise, agegap, begging, breeding, cockwarming;

masterlist. socials. rec.

It wasn't every day there were new people at the farm, let alone living people. However, when your older sister's shrilling voice called for your father and the all too familiar smell of fresh blood came wafting through the front door, you knew the peaceful salvation of your childhood home was no longer hidden from the terrors of the new world. 

That had been weeks ago; before families were camped out under the shade of the oak trees in your front yard, before Otis had died, before you had met Rick, or before you had sat and comforted Lori as her son lay dying in the blood-stained sheets of your guest bedroom. 

Long before they'd found any evidence of Carol's little girl being anywhere nearby, and even longer before a certain blue-eyed, foul-mouthed, redneck had caught your attention. 

You'd heard him ride in with the rest of them. Watching him from behind the white, wooden column of the porch. Tanned, dirt and sweat-covered skin, dressed in a sleeveless button-up that exposed the toned muscles of his arms, which flexed as he flicked the kick-stand down and stepped off the motorbike. 

It didn't take long for you to make friends with the rest of the group. Although, no matter how often you tried making peace with the shaggy-haired man, he always seemed to push you further and further away. 

Perhaps he knew what you were trying to do. Like he'd somehow discovered your ploy. How you'd show up at his tent on the outskirts of the camp, dressed in those frilly little sun dresses, presenting him with something or another that always made his heart swell up in contentment. 

No matter how short he was with you, or how many times he told you it was 'nun of y'er business', he still couldn't help but feel unworthy as he watched you frolic your way towards his islet tent.

It wasn't until he had heard you one morning, from the other side of the bathroom door, that was when he knew he was fucked.

Carol had demanded he'd shower, it did no good to have him 'stinking up every place he went' as she had put it. He had scoffed before eventually agreeing a shower might actually do him some good.

A place where he could relax for a short time, stretch out his strained muscles in the lukewarm water as he cleared his head from the millions of thoughts he had since their arrival.

The water was already running and he was praying that whoever it was in there, wasn't using up the rest of the warm water. He was about ready to bang on the door and call out a harsh 'hurry up in there'. That was until he heard the sweet sound of your voice from inside, suddenly rendering him speechless.

"oh daryl..." All high pitched and slurred, in that sweet honey-coated tone filled with urgency and pleasure. He wanted to move, he truly did.

You were just a girl, maybe 8 or 9 years younger than him. You didn't know what you were doing, acting solely on desire and lust, still foolish and ignorant about the real world.

That is what he told himself, as he imagined what you must've looked like in the moment. Hand shoved between the milky plush of your thighs, the same ones he'd caught himself staring at more times than he'd like to admit.

Skin flushed under the warm water and steam of the shower, face displaying a consuming look of pleasure, as your orgasm coaxed little whimpers and whines out of your parted lips. "daryl, daryl, daryl..."

He couldn't stand there any longer after listening to you finish. Rushing through the front door and down the porch steps before hastily grabbing his crossbow and wandering off in hopes of finding anything to distract himself from the blasphemous image of you.

Little did he know that wasn't the first time you had touched yourself to the thought of him.

Earlier that morning you'd woken up from an erotic-filled sleep, slick and sticky, panties clinging to the dripping arousal of your cunt as you rubbed your thighs together hoping to provide enough friction to lazily get yourself off.

You huffed and turned over a few times before giving up. Throwing the covers off and exposing yourself to the nipping cold of your bedroom.

You walked towards the window, hoping that the sight of the barely rising sun, was excuse enough to crawl back under the covers and rest for a few more minutes, before having to get up to start your early morning chores. However, the sight below you caused a chill to run up your spine, as goosebumps littered your skin.

He stood below your window, the picnic bench in front of him occupied by his crossbow, and the remains of his catch for this morning's breakfast.

The way he so effortlessly worked on his kill; cleaning, gutting, and skinning whatever poor little forest critter so foolishly crossed his path.

The sight of his muscular arms, as they flexed and strained, was alluring compared to his gore-full actions, and before you knew what you were doing, your hand snuck under the hem of your short, floral nightie.

Resting a hand against the window-pane as your other slipped into your panties. Your fingers played with the wetness of your arousal, coating them in your slick as you eased them past your slippery lips and into your weeping entrance.

You moaned quietly, pulling them back out to rub circles against your swollen clit and then plunging them back into your aching cunt again. Repeating the action over and over again, as you ogled the man before you.

You imagined what it would feel like to have his hands on you, instead of your own. Bigger and rougher, the callused skin of his palms running along the softness of your waist and hips, as he'd rock you back and forth on the pads of his fingers.

Gripping his forearm for leverage as you quivered against him. The pure strength of his bicep, which you'd grip at to keep yourself from collapsing into a puddle of sweat and cum.

His warm breath fanning against your cheek and neck, as he encouraged you with those sweet little praises. "You like that, huh? You like that, sweetheart?...Come on, sweet girl don't you want to cum?"

Your walls tightened as you became painfully close to the edge. Your legs trembled, knees buckling as you held yourself up against the glass. Your orgasm was bliss, soaking your thighs and hand with your release, as you muffled a cry, biting your bottom lip in order to keep yourself quiet.

Coming back down from your high you quickly stepped away from the window shamefully. Your skin felt hot and sticky, and even after just getting yourself off, you wanted more, you needed more.

You decided a shower would be best, something relaxing and isolate where you could refresh yourself, before having to go about your day.

It had been a few hours and you were now seated by the burning embers from this morning's fire, helping put together whatever you could find to make some sort of breakfast for everyone before they all got to work for the day.

You spotted Daryl as he made his way out of your house and back towards the camp. His hair, a darker shade of brown, as fresh water droplets dripped down the recently cleaned skin of his neck.

God, what you would give for him to let you lick it up with the flick of your tongue.

You imagined what he'd smell like, what he tasted like. His scent, wouldn't be clouded with any fragrance that distracted from his natural musk. His skin, warm and inviting against the drag of your tongue. You could feel yourself getting wet at just the thought of him.

Quickly you grabbed a plate and made your way up across the grass, stopping in front of him as he was headed towards the RV. You watched him freeze, his eyes casted down and away from you, causing you to frown at his refusal to meet your gaze.

"Here, I know it's not much... but you should eat something."

You offered him the small plate, only for him to hum and shake his head. "'m fine." You were concerned at his refusal. He was not a man of many words, but that didn’t mean dismissing you like this altogether. He'd normally just take whatever it was you were offering him, before going back to whatever it was he was doing.

"Look... everyone's eaten and you know nobody's going to be seen harboring back for seconds, given our circumstances." You laughed it off in hopes of lightening the mood. Only when you looked back at him, did you notice the look of anger take over his features.

"No you look... I don't know what ya' think this is, but we're not 'ere ta' make no friends. Our only priority is findin' a way ta' get the hell off this farm, and whether or not I eat this piss-pour excuse of a breakfast, is gonna change that. Ya' hearin' me?"

His words caught you off guard. They were harsh and filled with hurt, and knowing that those around you had most likely turned to look at him, once the sound of his voice had risen, was humiliating.

It was mean and patronizing, and you were embarrassed that he'd thought he could talk to you like that. Like you were just some ignorant girl. Like someone who didn't really know what was actually going on.

It didn't take you very long to flee after that. You had almost scoffed at him before shoving the plate of food into his chest and brushing past his shoulder.

You weren't going to let everyone see just how much his words had gotten to you, so you lifted your head and walked with poise back towards your house.

Only once you'd made it into the solidarity of your kitchen did you let out the breath you were holding. Cursing at yourself for not seeing it sooner, by letting the way he made you feel cloud your judgment of who he really was, who he really thought you were.

In that moment you decided for yourself to just push down this stupid little crush and focus on what was important. Helping get these people back on their feet, so they could get a move on.

You consumed yourself with chores the next few days. Helping Lori with laundry, Carol with any cooking, and even offered Andrea a hand maintaining the few guns your father had let them keep, while helping protect the farm.

She was pleasantly surprised at how much you knew about such weapons, but you quickly reminded her how you'd grown up and where exactly you were raised. This only encouraged her to teasingly call you a 'hick', before asking if you wanted to go shooting with her and Shane the next time they went out. You told her you'd think about it before excusing yourself from the RV.

That night you sat with them beside the dying fire, and it didn't take long before you felt the heat of a lingering gaze on you. However, this one was dark and grim, greedy and predatory. Unlike the light, pastel blue eyes you were so familiar with.

These felt thieving, like they were just waiting watching for the chance to get you alone, secluded and out of the keen sight of others.

You felt it best to turn in for the night. Walking back towards the house you weren't scared, far from it, you knew this farm like the back of your hand and yet you still felt unease.

The snap of a twig behind you caused you to gasp, as you expected a walker to step out in front of you and bite your face clean off. However, the sight of Shane emerging from the shadows was strangely just as frightening. Those temperamental eyes that looked you up and down, caused you to wrap your arms a little tighter around yourself.

"Andrea tells me you're good with a gun. Real good..."

Nodding compliantly, hoping it would satisfy him to cut the conversation short and allow you to escape inside. Except your silence only made him pursue you even more.

"She's giving me more credit than I deserve. My father taught me how to shoot, that's all." You quickly remitted.

Shane wandered closer and you took a quick look back at the house, trying to estimate how many steps you would need to take in order to get back inside if need be.

"What is your deal then, hm?"

"My deal?"

"I just mean, I'm trynna figure you out."

"I guess there's just not much to figure."

"Oh, but that's where you're wrong. I just want to know what makes a pretty young thing, such as yourself swoon so hard over that dirty old red-neck." You're shocked at the accuracy of his accusation.

"I think I'm tired, and it's getting late, and I'd like to go to bed. Goodnight Shane."

"Now just wait a min-Everythin' alright?" Daryl suddenly emerged from behind you and you'd soon grown frustrated.

You hadn't seen nor spoken to him in the last few days yet, here he was showing up to save you like you were some damsel in distress.

Dragging a hand through your hair and letting out an exasperated sigh. You watched as Shane stepped closer to the both of you. "You got impeccable timing, you know that?"

"Hell's that suppose to mean?"

"Nothin' man, just getting to know our hosts a little better, that's all."

"Yeah? Well don't."

Scoffing at both of the men, drawing their attention back to you. "I'm not standing around here to watch a cock-fight. Both of you, just leave me the hell alone." You left them at the bottom of the porch steps.

"Wait a sec... Just stop!... I'm sorry!" You froze, halfway through the door frame.

Slowly, you turned around to find Daryl standing at the bottom of the stairs, nervously scratching at the back of his neck.

"What?"

"I was pissed, 'n took it out on ya'. Wasn't right."

"Carol make you come up here."

"Nah, feel bad... didn't mean to hurt ya'."

You were genuinely surprised that he'd come back to apologize all on his own. Looking away from him seemed to be the only way to keep a smile from breaking out on your face. You nodded and hoped it was enough to get him to retreat, but he didn't.

"Hey..."

He called, making you look up at him through your lashes.

"When I say m'sorry, I mean it."

You nodded again quickly. "I believe you."

It was now his turn to nod this time, as he drummed his thumb against the side of his leg. "Only... you owe me another apology."

"Hmm?"

"That breakfast... was not piss-poor… made that with love." You teased, leaning up against the door frame.

He stifled a laugh and kicked at the dirt in front of him. "M'sorry 'bout that too then."

You couldn't help but flash a warm smile at him while you watched him fidget before you. Stepping back onto the porch and descending the steps until you stood face-to-face with him at the bottom.

You gazed into his eyes and despite the slight height you got from the stair, you found yourself still having to tilt your head up to meet his gaze. You couldn't help but feel a sense of curiosity, as there was an indescribable emotion hidden within them.

Rather than trying to put it into words, you decided to thank him. Affectionately rising up onto your tiptoes and planting a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Goodnight, Daryl."

Then with a smile, you made your way back up the stairs and towards the front door, as you finally entered the house.

You didn't sleep well that night, tossing and turning for hours before you eventually gave up on sleep altogether.

Once the sun began to rise you slipped on your boots and grabbed a sweater, hoping maybe an early morning walk could help you clear your thoughts.

They only really consisted of one thing, Daryl. Even though he apologized, that hadn't been the only time he'd been short with you. Sure, it was the first time he'd actually yelled at you.

You wondered why he had been so mean, what had made him snapping at you so early in the early morning, when you were just trying to be kind to him? What had happened that he was already pissed off about?

Coming up late last night when Shane had been trying to 'get to know you', and as much as he made you uncomfortable, why did Daryl feel the need to interrupt?

Did he secretly despise you that much that he had to ward off people from trying to befriend you? It confused you, how such a seemingly simple man suddenly became so complex.

You hadn't realized how far you had wandered until the sight of the old brick chimney came into view. You knew it was time to turn back when you'd somehow managed to subconsciously walk towards the one thing that was causing you so much troubled.

"What're ya' doin'?"

You gasped at the gruff sound of his voice. Turning around to see Daryl not too far from you. He looked well rested, like he'd just woken up.

"Couldn't sleep. Needed some time to think, figured a walk'd do me some good."

"So ya' wondered all the way out 'ere."

"I guess so."

He looked off from you, not having anything else to say, or maybe just not having the words. "Did I do something? I mean... to bother you or upset you in some way. I get it now that you're not one to make friends, but after you apologized… I just don't know what I did to deserve you making sure everyone stays clear of me."

"Like ya' talk with Shane was so friendly."

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

There was a pause as you waited for Daryl to speak.

"I heard ya'..."

Your face scrunched in confusion and Daryl sighed. He'd hoped you'd understood what he was talking about without having to go into much detail about it.

"Sayin' my name..."

Your eyes widened and you flushed bright red in embarrassment.

"I- I'm sorry, I thought the window was closed... I-"

"Window? Nah... in the shower..."

You became even more humiliated, not only by the fact that he had heard you touching yourself to the thought of him, but as you accidentally confessed how you'd done it more than just the once.

"Look y're a real pretty girl 'n all, but it just ain't right... With yer father lettin' us stay 'ere, it wouldn't be right."

"So you're saying if this wasn't the circumstance where we met, you'd take me to bed?"

"That ain't what I'm sayin'."

"Then what are you saying, Daryl?"

"That m'pushing 30 and y're barely 20..."

"21... 'n I'm not a child, Daryl. Not where it counts..."

"Shouldn't be sayin' that."

"Why? Why does it matter? We're both adults. There's not a soul in that house that would even give a damn. The world has ended, there are no laws, no morals to live by anymore. There's only wants and needs, and I don't want to be scared anymore... and I need you..."

You stepped closer to him, eyes never leaving his as you bravely confessed your feelings. "Tell me... Tell me that you don't need me."

You watched his pale blue eyes as he studied your face. It was as if he was almost trying to decide whether or not this was real, whether or not you were real.

"I can't... but I can't give you what you want either..."

"You can-No, I can't"

"What is it you think that I want?"

"Why me, huh?... What is it about me that you need?" He dismissed your question with one of his own.

"I see the way that you are... with Rick... with Carol. You want to protect us, I know that."

He tried to brush you off, turning around to distance himself from you, but you grabbed his arm, stepping ahead of him to stop him from walking away from you. "Don't run from me. I may not know what you were like before this, but I know who you are now. I know why you showed up last night..."

"Ya' don't know nothin' ." He spit out.

"I know you wanted to protect me. I know that's why you warded off Shane, and why you apologized. You might not know why, but I do. It's because you care. You care about me... and us, and this place, and you can pretend all you want like you don't, but you can't fool me, Daryl."

You hadn't let go of him and you reached out to grab his other hand. He flinched and tried to pull back from you, but you didn't let him. Bringing his hand up to cup your cheek as you looked up at him longingly.

"So stay with me... Tell me that you do need me... and don't let anyone take me away from you..." All he did was stare at you, his hand remained relaxed against your cheek.

You were about to drop it in defeat and sulk your way back to the house, but his hand flexed, fingers threading into your hair and pulling you closer to him. You closed your eyes as he rested his forehead against yours. His breath was ragged and you were afraid he was going to pull back and leave you all alone.

He nudged the tip of your nose with his before tilting your head back and finally slotting his lips against your own. Leading closer into him, your grip on his arm tightened and you tugged him closer by the collar of his shirt. His hand still in your hair, pulled you into his needy mouth as his arm wrapped around your waist to keep you firmly pressed up against him.

You put every last bit of your doubt into the kiss, hoping he'd take it all away from you. That he could somehow tell you that you were right without having to pull his lips away from yours.

His hands began to wander, gripping at you wherever he could. Brushing your hair over your shoulders, and pulling at the sleeves of your sweater to run his hands over the exposed skin of your back. Hooking your arm around his neck and kissing him fiercely as he leaned down into you.

You opened your mouth for him as his hands traveled down over your waist. He rocked you against him, pressing you into his hips causing you to gasp into his mouth at the feeling of his erection digging into your stomach.

His hands didn't stop, leaving behind a trail of fire in their wake as he continued to caress as much of your skin as he could. He took a step forward and you stumbled for only a moment before he lifted you off of your feet and wrapped your legs around his hips.

He led you both over to his camp, ripping open his partially zipped tent before ducking the both of you inside. You hadn't pulled your mouth from his neck, and when he finally set you on trembling legs you were able to see just how much damage you'd done to the heated skin.

He began stripping you of your sweater as you simultaneously worked on the buttons of his shirt, only you hesitated at the sight of the pronounced tainted skin on his chest. His shirt was pushed off his shoulders, hanging around his elbows allowing his arms minimal movement to clutch at your waist.

Your fingers traced over the scars causing him to flinch, reaching up to pull your hands from his body. He looked at your face, utterly surprised when it wasn't a look of disgust or pity gracing your soft features. Instead, a small smile and a look of admiration.

He let your hands slowly rest back against his heaving chest. Caressing your wrists as you went back to tracing the darkened skin. He closed his eyes when you'd touched a particularly deep one, shivering as fantom pain shot across his shoulder.

You froze and he opened his eyes to see you looking back up at him worriedly. He hummed and leaned closer, nudging his nose against the side of yours before kissing you softly. "S'okay... don't hurt."

You nodded, slowly pushing his shirt the rest of the way off his arms, letting it fall, discarded on the ground behind him. You toed off your boots as he led you back towards his cot. Placing kisses along each new area of your body he exposed to the chilled morning air, as he pulled off your sweater and slip.

It soon joined his shirt and his own boots on the floor as he laid you bare on his sleeping bag, which was accompanied by a few thick blankets and a single pillow.

He pulled back to look at you, kneeling between your parted legs. Your hair, fanned out around your head in a halo as your skin flushed pink. A few marks along your neck and chest, turning a dark purple, a harsh comparison to your delicate complexion. It caused his heart to beat furiously, as his chest filled with pride.

You whined and reached out for him hoping he fall back down against you. Only he took your hands in his and pinned them against the blankets. His fingers laced and gripped tightly onto yours as he dove back into your neck and chest to continue his assault on your sensitive skin.

Your back arched as he sucked and nipped at the tender skin of your throat and your hips rolled against his, chasing that feverish need for pleasure. He pulled away from you again and you almost cried, but at the rustling sound of fabric and the jingle of his belt you whimpered in anticipation.

He was back on you before you could even call out for him. Hands ripping your panties down your legs, caressing the soft skin of your ankle, and placing a kiss to the muscular physique of your calf. "Daryl..."

There it was, that oh so familiar plead of his name, laced with lust and desire.

"Again..." He demanded.

"Daryl?... please, Daryl..."

He crawled between your legs, resting against the pillow with his hands on either side of your head. His lips caught yours as you caressed his sides. Hands traveling over his back, only to find more scars etched into his hardened skin.

You moaned into his mouth, pulling him even tighter against you, grinding your hips into his erection, which strained against the fabric of his boxers.

He growled and kissed your lips deeper, ignoring the voice in the back of his head telling him to stop. Telling him that he wasn't worthy enough. That he didn't deserve the privilege of touching your flawless skin with his tainted hands, or pressing his roughened lips against your delicate ones.

However, as your hand caught him firmly around the neck, keeping him from pulling away from you, and your hips eagerly bucked against his once again, as a symphony of your pleasure flowed into his mouth, the voice fell silent. Drowned out and muffled by you, and you alone.

Your fingers toyed with the waistband of his underwear, teasing the trail of hair leading down from his navel, before slipping underneath the fabric. His breath hitched as your nimble fingers wrapped tightly around the base of his cock, tugging at him skillfully.

He leaned in, resting his forehead against your temple, his lips parted as his breath quickened. You continued to attentively pump your hand up and down his hardened length. The fingers of your other hand tenderly running through his hair, showering him with affection as your lips brushed against his flushed cheek, leaving a trail of lingering kisses on his heated skin.

"f-fu... Fuck..." He stammered, his hands tightened around the quilts, his arms trembling as he struggled to maintain his advantage above you.

He suddenly pulled your hand off from around him, pinning it back onto the bed. "S'enough... won't last if ya' keep that up."

He groaned, trailing his free hand down between your bodies, as his fingers parted your lips, playing gently with your dripping folds. The sound of his voice in your ear sent shivers down your spine, causing you to gasp in pleasure. You instinctively clung onto him as you tugged lightly on his hair in an attempt to encourage him.

Daryl only hummed into your skin, nuzzling his face into your neck as he continued collecting your arousal on the tips of his callused fingers, spreading your wetness around your swollen, aching clit.

If it were anyone else, you might have felt self-conscious about how wet he'd made you from something as simple as his hands against your skin, or how perfectly his body fit against yours, but with Daryl, all your thoughts melted away. Everything just felt so comfortable, so right.

His fingers circled the rim of your entrance, slipping gently between your lips. You guided him back up to your awaiting mouth from his spot nuzzled in the valley of your breasts, where he'd taken his sweet time kissing and nipping at the swell of them.

His mouth latched onto yours, sucking at your lips and teasing you by grazing his teeth over them softly. You couldn't help but revel in the comfort and pleasure of his touch.

His finger eased smoothly into your slick entrance. Your walls drawing them in with an eager clench as a rush of pleasure washed over you, causing you to moan against him. His fingertip caressed against the certain spot deep inside of you.

You arched your back in ecstasy as he suddenly added another finger. He stretched you even further causing you to let out a pleasureful moan that made him pause and instantly detach from your lips.

Looking at you in disbelief, he couldn’t believe the sight before him, the way your hips began to hump against his hand, aiding to the pleasure coiling in the pit of your stomach.

You were absolutely breathtaking in your blissed-out state. His fingers stilled causing you to whine in frustration leaving you craving their pleasurable drag, in and out of your walls.

He sat up, pulling them from your weeping cunt to watch himself as he spread your arousal around your messy clit. You nodded your head profusely. "Don't stop..."

Your chest heaved, rising and falling in anticipation as he slipped his fingers back inside of you. His thighs were tensing beneath yours, trying his hardest not to grind against you, lost in his own pleasure.

That's when you felt him, your knees tightened around his hips as his cock started riding shamelessly against your inner thigh. You reached for his face, getting him to look back up at you as you caressed his jaw. "Please, Daryl... I need you-I need to feel you inside of me."

His fingers pulled back out from your entrance, popping them into his mouth, and licking them clean. Hoping to satisfy his craving of you with just a subtle taste of your sweet cunt.

He gripped at your waist, thumbs massaging circles against your hip-bones as he imagined tasting you straight from the source.

His lips were back on yours in seconds, hands pushing his boxers down franticly, and before you had the chance to catch your breath he'd already lined up at your entrance.

The head of his cock smeared in your slick as he teased you. He could feel your warmth soaking him as he let out a labored sigh, wishing he could just stuff you full.

He began slowly pushing into you and you clamp down on him. Your gasp turned more erratic and you fisted the sheets. Pulling them from your grasp, he reached out gripping your hand once you let out a soft hiss from the stretch of him.

"Relax sweetheart, we'll go slow."

He started carefully, squeezing your hand, he felt a subtle sting as your nails pierced through the skin on the back of his hand. A melody of whines slipped from between your lips, at the feeling of his cock, as it slid perfectly inside of your walls, as he entered himself inch by delicious inch.

He leaned forward, nose brushing against yours. As you both panted against each other, it kept you anchored to reality as he finally bottomed out inside of you with a deep groan.

Then he waited, for an agonizingly long time, before you gave him the go-ahead. Bucking your hips up, begging for more friction. He takes his time fucking into you, long and slow at first. Reaching so deeply with each thrust of his hips, causing you to gasp every time he bottomed out.

You withered and squirmed beneath him, moaning incoherent nonsense as he pinned you to the bed. Crying out as your orgasm built up at an aching speed.

His hips moved faster at the feeling of your walls relaxing around him, fitting his cock like a glove. You moaned and wrapped your legs tighter around his hips, he hooked the hinge of his arm under your knee. Lifting it up higher, so you could feel him reach deeper inside of you.

He let out a grunt against the crook of your neck. He couldn't see the way you took every inch of him, but he could hear it. The sticky squelching of your pliant little cunt being speared open for him, and fuck, he could feel it.

Hot, wet, and tight around him. Grinding your hips in rhythm with his, as noisy wet clicks filled the background noise. Embarrassingly loud, from how slick you'd become as he stuffed you full of him.

Hanging by a thread as you used your free hand to claw at his lower back, leaving angry red lines behind on his skin, as you held onto him desperately. He groaned at the pain and yet he enjoyed it. The feeling of being so close to you.

Your thighs opened wide for him, puffy lips spread and swollen, sensitive, aching clit peeking out from them, dragging against the hair at the base of him.

All of you, covered in a glossy sheen of your own juices, as a ring of arousal collected at the base of his cock, dripping onto his thighs. "Don't stop, m'gonna cum. Daryl, don't stop!"

You could feel the coil inside of you snap, a string of cries escaped your lips as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. The high-pitched whine of his name. His lips consumed yours as he thrusted into you riding out your orgasm.

The convulsing clench of your cunt was his downfall. His upper body collapsing on top of you as he moaned out your name, before painting your insides white, your womb becoming nice and full with the weight of his release.

Reaching back down, he cupped his balls, massaging them. Causing himself to cum even harder. He began whimpering against your ear, and his sloppy wet kisses left behind a trail of drool, as he kissed down the side of your neck.

The two of you remained connected for quite some time. Basking in the sex-filled atmosphere of his tent. Your labored breaths and the cooing of the mourning doves, was your lullaby.

The heat radiating from the man caging you on the cot was bliss. Even as your skin was covered in a sheer layer of moisture you didn't want him to move from his place on top of you.

Your breaths began to even out and the gentle kisses he was placing on your shoulders and neck became less frequent. He began to sit up, and you felt his softened member start to slip from inside you causing your hands to tighten on his body, stopping his retreat. He froze at the sudden movement, afraid he'd hurt you somehow.

"Not yet... just- just a few more minutes." You whispered, pulling him back down to lay on your chest. The full wait of him felt safe, comforting. It was like you'd finally found solace after months of living in fear.

His fingers played with your wild hair, lulling you to sleep. Your hands on his back, mindlessly began running over his jagged scars, causing him to shiver at your unfamiliar touch, but he didn't stop you.

As much as Daryl hated what his father had done to him as a child, and the disgust he felt when looking at the lifelong reminder, your gentle hands were a beautiful relief in comparison to his father’s cruel ones.

There were so many things about you that were beautiful, so many things he just wasn’t used to. He wondered if that’s why he must've turned you away so often.

How when you offered things to show your affection towards him; books, food, clothes, blankets, sometimes even just your thoughts and feelings, he'd turn you away.

It was weird for him to experience such kindness from people around him and when a beautiful girl, such as yourself, suddenly came along and did it all, without asking for anything in return, it scared him.

He expected that after a while you’d start asking things of him. Things he'd have a hard time being able to give you. Things like friendship and vulnerability, things that oftentimes led him to get taken advantage of.

And yet as you laid beneath him he found himself wanting to give you such things. Wanting to be the reason you smiled so brightly at him, or laughed so beautifully. He wanted to feel the caress of your hands anywhere and anytime he could have them.

He hadn’t realized what exactly made him so wary of you in the beginning, but he knew now. He knew that you brought to life a part of him that he thought had died, a long time ago, long before the world had even ended.

Long before his brother had convinced him they were weaknesses, and even longer before his father had tried to beat them out of him.

"Would ya' leave with me?" He asked unexpectedly.

"What?"

"If... When we 'ave ta leave. Would ya' come with me?"

His words took you by surprise. You hadn't really ever thought about leaving the farm. Not that there were many places to even run towards, but still, the thought of leaving behind everything you'd ever known scared you.

Yet, you also knew that the farm wouldn't be safe forever. You knew that one day you would have to leave, and whether it was now; with Daryl and his group, or later; with your father and sisters. That was the real question.

"I don't know. I think there's more to it." You said.

"Why's that?"

"I can't leave my family Daryl... but I also know that what we have here won't last forever, no matter how badly I wish it could." You could feel Daryl shift against you, leaning back to look up at you as you spoke.

"I'm worried that if we're out there on our own, my father won't be able to protect us all, no matter how badly he'd try." It hurt for you to admit it, but you weren't fool enough to not realize the truth.

"It would either make us learn how to protect each other or find others to protect us... and to tell you the truth, I don't know how many people are out there, that are worth protecting back..." You felt tears well up behind your eyes, as a hitch caught in your throat.

"Not like you... or Lori and Carl... or Glenn... Carol... I'm afraid that God might've dropped you all on our doorstep and my father is just too blind to see it."

Daryl wanted to laugh at the mention of God. "Ya' think God did all this?"

"I'd like to think he did something. Whether that be bring the dead back walking or sending you here. Either one puts a strain on my fathers pride." You teased.

Daryl sat up and this time you didn't stop him. You winced as you felt him disconnect from you and sighed as his hands ran softly over your hips. "'mazes me ya' still believe in God after everythin'"

"I've got to believe in something." You said smiling up at him. He laughed and shook his head.

As Daryl's eyes fixated on you, it was evident that his mind was lost in thought. He couldn't help but admire your unwavering faith in something as unreliable as God, even at a time like this.

In this apocalyptic world, it wasn't God who would shield you from the undead. It wouldn't be God who'd courageously plunge a knife into their skulls or valiantly fight to protect you from any danger, but rather Daryl.

He would willingly place himself between you and the snapping teeth of a walker or stand as a shield, to the menacing barrel of a gun, if it meant protecting your life.

Even in a world as cruel and tormenting as this one, he was determined to make sure you had a chance to experience just a little bit more time.

"Then believe in me..."

He looked at you, really looked at you this time.

"Don't waste y'er energy believin' in somethin' ya' don't even know will protect ya' or not... Not when m'here..."

© ladywuvly please do not steal, copy, or translate any of my work onto other platforms!

[suniloli]

LISTEN TO THE MUSIC

28 Feb 2024

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader 

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: Swearing, sexual themes, allusions to SA, descriptions of violence and death, angst

Setting: Alexandria (s5)

Summary: Your time after the fall of the prison has your mind all over the place. Upon arriving at Alexandria, you discover something that you think will help bring your mind to peace. Unfortunately, you're becoming more detached from those who love you, including Daryl. He sees you venture off into the darkness one night and decides to follow.

Author Note: This took me AGES to finish…..I’ve just had so much on. Faith No More’s ‘Easy’ inspired a certain scene that this one's based on. Tried not to make it cringe, mate :)

SIDE NOTE: I’ve written it so the song matches up to that part of the story if you want to listen to it while it plays out.

It had been two months, and you still hadn't gotten comfortable in the walls of your new home. It was so incredibly odd. This town, Alexandria, was just so out of the ordinary. It was still hard to fathom that a place of such domesticity, which was so reflective of the world before, existed utterly untouched. You were in it, living there, and acting as if suburban-ty was all that ever was. 

Well, you weren't acting in the usual sense. You knew what was out there. You'd never forget. 

And the rest of your family wouldn’t forget either. They just appeared to be better at adjusting to this new life than you were. 

The issue was that you felt uneasy. The walls' protection was alluring, but you always felt something was off. It was an intangible feeling you couldn't quite grasp or explain. It was akin to being in the Twilight Zone. Alexandria was almost blurring the lines between this new reality and your past one — it made you doubt who you once were, what you did, and whether you actually led the life you did before. It also made you doubt who you were now, and whether outside the walls was real or just a figment of your imagination.

You couldn't relax. You couldn't let go and appreciate the break from chaos and stress. That's why you took as many opportunities as possible to get out and breathe in the fresh air. To remind yourself that you weren't going crazy.

You hoped that this would pass. You also hoped you were just being stupid and that your paranoia wasn't based on truth. But you just couldn't let go of that nagging feeling telling you not to get too comfortable. 

Ever since your escape from the prison, it was like your mind was on autopilot. Now that living wasn't just survival day to day, all of those memories — memories of escaping alone, of killing both walkers and people, struggling to find food and water. Having to savagely kill men who'd stalked and found you, and tried to do all sorts of things to your mind and body. Going through a depression of having lost everything and all the people you loved. Memories of Terminus. Of seeing people slaughtered right next to you. Of having the knife to your throat because you were next. And somehow, more impactful than the rest: the feeling of reuniting with your family for the first time, only for your soul to be crushed at seeing them all lined up prepared to die like lambs to the slaughter, just as you were going to be. Memories of seeing your comrades Rick and Glenn and your newfound ally Bob there. Your heart racing upon making eye contact with Daryl, but being wholly shattered when you saw pure fear lace your best friend's gaze. You'd never seen him like that before…

Now, because you were inside the walls again, all of it came flooding back. It still haunted you. Being inside reminded you of everything you'd lost and endured. 

However, being in such a well-looked-after settlement surrounded by 'normal' people going about their daily chores and lives also reminded you of other things you'd lost. In particular, something from before when your own life was 'normal.' 

Music. 

No matter where or what you were doing, listening to, singing, and dancing to music was one of your favourite things. It had the power to move you. Some songs truly spoke to your heart. Some ignited within you your stellar ability to dance and feel the beat. Others brought you comfort. Some made you cry. 

In your opinion, music was, and still is, one of art's most vivid and beautiful expressions. It has such an ability to speak to the soul, to inspire it, and let it be free. 

So, as with most things people love, it was one of the things you most yearned for. 

Selfishly, that was one of the few reasons you suggested to Deanna that your job be to go on runs. Rick vouched for you, saying you were one of your family's strongest, more capable fighters. He stated that you were smart, resourceful, etcetera, etcetera, which was true, but he didn't know you had your motives either. 

Given your recent struggle to sleep at night and the aloofness accompanying your every action within the walls, you thought giving yourself a specific task would help calm your mind and allow you to think coherently. 

You liked the thought of having a little private project to yourself. Although sleep constantly refused to take you into its arms, just the mere prospect of listening to and enjoying music again was enough to continue this trend of insomnia (though probably not for the best) and perhaps provide you with the means to focus and get all of your emotions and thoughts straight. 

So, you had developed a little routine come nightfall. Slowly, over the past few weeks, you accumulated the parts and accessories needed to listen to a beaten-up walkman you found. You made it your mission on every run you went on to find wire, fitted screws, and anything which would aid you in repairing it, as well as to devise some working earbuds. And on top of that, you were working on collecting tapes and swapping and changing them until you had a playlist you could enjoy. Things were much easier with your iPod back in the day, but you hadn't gotten your hands on anything like that. Plus, the internet didn't exist anymore, so even if you wanted to add and change songs, you couldn't. Bummer. 

Although it may have been harder to collate music, the very act of holding the tapes and taking apart and assembling the little black brick made you more appreciative of the art form. Additionally, the anticipation of your hard work eventually paying off kept you going when you couldn't sleep. It was the thought that you could experience some semblance of peace as melodies and tunes washed over your brain, coaxing it into a state of tranquillity that had evaded you ever since you were on the road, which gave you a new energy. 

Every action performed at your bedroom workbench felt like a labour of love, where you were reminded of the power of music to weave its way into the very fabric of your memories and remind you of your true self. It was the perfect distraction from all the other distractions plaguing you.

You just needed to accept that perhaps Alexandria was both the bane and revival of your existence. 

It was 3 am, according to the working clock in your room. Focusing back on the task, you gently opened the walkman and placed your tiny screwdriver on the table. Placing a tape in the cassette player, you closed it back up and carefully grasped your homemade earbuds. Plugging them into the audio jack, you pressed the play button. 

Immediately, the gears inside the cassette started shifting, and finally, the tape didn't tangle. A soft whirring sounded, and the small noises of a drum rift softly erupted from the sound output. 

With shaking fingers, you grasped an earbud and lifted it to your ear. Sure enough, the opening riff to a rock song was playing. 

You let escape a giggle of disbelief. Slowly but surely, it turned to loud, almost manic laughter. 

No way. No fucking way. 

Daryl was worried about you. Really worried about you. 

He'd been able to reconnect with his family since they all found each other again after the prison. Although he'd also technically reunited with you at Terminus, he couldn't reconnect with you. 

Daryl had many conversations with Carol about it. At least Rick's craziness revolved around his concern for his family's safety and his passion to keep you together. You, on the other hand, were somehow changed differently. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but you were slowly slipping away from everyone. 

You were slipping away from him. 

Carol suggested that it was tough on you, whatever had happened while you were out there alone. Easy for her to say. She was adjusting just fine with her innocent neighbour costume and whatnot, which he thought was ridiculous. However, she had made several observant points: there were scars on your body at Terminus that weren’t there at the prison. You were quiet, quite different from the sassy, talkative woman he knew and grew incredibly fond of. 

Of course, Daryl had noticed those things. It was just reassuring to know that it wasn't only him who noticed. It was also comforting to understand that you weren’t just shutting him out, either. Although it still stung. It stung a lot. 

After all, you two had gotten so close that he felt comfortable enough to show you his own scars, physical and emotional, and you your own — it was like the both of you formed an unbreakable bond: one of complete trust and companionship. 

And now, he could tell you were struggling more than even he was, but your pride didn’t allow you to express that outwardly. 

But Daryl knew. He could see it in your eyes, in your walk. Ever since Terminus, you refused to really talk with him. You refused to allow yourself to be vulnerable and shouldered it all on your own, letting it accumulate and weigh you down. 

Damn stubborn woman. 

You two were similar in many ways — Daryl also tended to be sceptical, and refused to let others bear his pain. But you were letting it affect every aspect of your life, even if you outwardly presented as composed and stoic to the average person. 

But again, Daryl knew you. He knew you inside and out. And you knew him. You both shared something unexplainable that he could only put down to one thing, from his end at least. 

Love. 

When the prison fell, Daryl tried to find you, but you were gone without a trace. He spent his time with Beth in depressive thoughts of not only his home and family perishing, but the fact that he might have left you to die underneath the rubble — that you died because of him.

But then Beth brought him out of it because a little part of her reminded him of you — your optimism and strength to push past any obstacle that stood in your way. 

It was her death that almost made him lose complete hope in humanity. 

But, that fateful day, when the people at Terminus revealed you as one of the other poor victims of their cannibalistic desires, he was filled with a renewed sense of urgency. He couldn’t let you die again. He was scared shitless. 

It was kneeling at the trough, and seeing you battered and scarred, that he realised he loved you. He was in love with you. Seeing your pleading eyes connect with his, he realised then that he’d been in love with you for a long time. 

So, when you all managed to free yourselves from your bindings and escape that wretched train station, he would never let you go again as long as he lived. 

But the moment he saw you brutalise those people there, and saw that crazed look in your eyes, Daryl knew you’d changed. 

That first night of freedom, you remained physically close to him. Daryl didn’t sleep, but you snuggled up to him, finding comfort in his presence. You slept with your arms wrapped around his torso and head on his chest, and surprisingly, he found the courage to lay his head against yours and softly run his hand against your arm. But the next day, and for the months after, you had rejected his touch and everyone else’s. 

At first, Daryl thought he had done something wrong, that you regretted being that physically close to him — that he’d crossed some boundary in your relationship. But he was perceptive and soon realised that your distance wasn’t about him. It was about something deeper that had changed within you during your time alone in the wilderness. 

Daryl made sure to keep an eye out for you. Although you didn’t say much about how you were feeling, you still always acknowledged him, telling him you were okay. 

He hated seeing you like this — constantly plagued by whatever haunted you. If only you’d open up to him, you’d both realise that you were dealing with similar things. 

So, instead of invading your space, Daryl tried to lift you in other ways, such as by trying to make you laugh more often or gifting you with something thoughtful, like the dainty silver arrow necklace he gave to you when you were both on watch a couple of weeks ago.

Occasionally, he’d see glimpses of the real you: you'd gift him your beautiful laughter or that gorgeous smile he constantly dreamt about, in return. He cherished it when you had dangled the necklace he gave you in your palm, and you’d held his hand with your other, squeezing it gently. 

Sometimes, he wished he could hear you more like he used to. He remembered your singing. Although Daryl made out it was annoying when you used to randomly burst into passionate song, and grab him by the arm to get him to reciprocate (in which he half-scowled in return), he thought you were so incredibly charming. Sometimes, Daryl thought you might’ve even meant some of those lyrics…

Now, though, you were mainly preoccupied, never honestly in the present. And considering that Daryl had seen your light on at night for the past week from his porch across the street, he knew it was perhaps time to approach you. 

As Daryl was outside letting the nicotine from his cigarette fill his lungs, he watched as your silhouette moved from behind your illuminated window curtain to out of view. 

Before he could snuff his cigarette out and walk over, he was ripped from his thoughts as, unusually, the yellow hue of your window suddenly turned dark. Maybe ya were finally tired. 

He squinted his eyes as he faintly heard the screen door to your shared house flip open and close again, a flurry of movement following behind. It was you, and you seemed…huh…there was a sharpness to your movements. You got to the bottom of the stairs, went to the sidewalk, and down the road into the dark. 

Daryl waited for a few minutes before he decided to follow. 

Daryl's footsteps were quiet along the pavement. The only thing that illuminated his path was the luminosity of the moonlight, and even then, it was difficult to see. But, ever the skilled hunter, his eyes adjusted quickly, and soon enough, he found you sitting by the edge of the lake in the middle of the settlement. 

Approaching slowly from behind, he took louder steps, attempting to alert you of his presence. Surprised you hadn't heard him, Daryl went to call your name but paused just short — he could hear some soft mumbling. 

Usually, he would have left anyone in your situation alone, but seeing you like this broke Daryl's heart. Kneeling down next to you, he gently touched your shoulder. 

"Woah!!" you startled, sharply turning your body to face whoever was there and shuffling away from the threat. Upon realising it was the archer, you sighed a sigh of relief. "Daryl…"

"Ya alrigh’ Y/N?" he started. Still kneeling, he adjusted his stance. Observing you, Daryl registered that you had earphones plugged into your ears and a goddamn walkman in your lap. “S’all this?” he questioned, gesturing towards your person. 

You closed your eyes for a couple of seconds, savouring the final riff of the song being played. A small smile tugged at your lips as you gently pulled out the earbuds and hung them from your ears. Contemplating Daryl’s questions, you were reluctant to answer both. 

“What are you doing here?” You deflected. 

“Comin’ ta check on ya’. I want ta know what’s goin’ on with ya’. Ya refuse ta talk ta me. Ever since…” he broke off with a throat clearing. “I can tell somethin’s up.”

“Trust me, it’s nothing —  ”

“Well it most definitely don’ seem like nothin’” he gruffed. This was going to be hard. And as established, you were a hard one to crack. Like him, he supposed. 

Daryl sat down, legs outstretched in front of him. You sighed deeply, lost in thought. He could see you deliberating something in your mind, so he waited for you to speak. 

“Here.” You suddenly declared, crawling towards him and planting yourself on the ground, leaving little space between you. You held the walkman out to him so he could see it better. Daryl was now staring at you intently. You glanced from your outstretched hand to his face. You continued, the soft rumblings of bass emitting from the next song playing through the earbuds. 

“I, uh…haven’t been sleeping, so I’ve been working on this. Fixing it up, collecting tapes. Making it mine…”

You turned the device over in your hand and looked down again to observe it. You could feel Daryl’s stare burning into the side of your head. 

“I get it, ya know. I can’t sleep neither. Can’t really relax in ‘ere.”

You hummed in agreement. Shaking your head slightly, you looked up towards the lake, observing the small ripples illuminated by the moon. “Music was my life. Is. I was hoping that doing this…bringing it back would occupy my mind,” you vaguely waved your hand around, “I don’t know…make it easier…”

Daryl chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully. “Ya coulda’ told me ya’ were strugglin’. Ya’ have so many people here for ya’...I’m here for ya’…ya’ know that.”

You looked away from the lake and into Daryl's eyes. You could see something alight in them that you weren't sure you wanted to acknowledge just yet. Despite the happiness you'd felt when listening to the Walkman, a lump formed in your throat, and once again, that anxiousness you'd experience whenever you even contemplated opening up was brewing. But this was Daryl. Why were you suddenly feeling this way? Was it even that? 

“It’s just too hard to explain…feels like I’m goin’ fucking crazy...” you mumbled. 

Daryl softly placed his hand on your thigh and squeezed almost imperceptibly. Something about his touch burned. 

"Ya' know, I thought I was going crazy too…" Daryl whispered, almost shyly. You couldn't break from his gaze. "Ya were gone for so long...thought I'd never see ya' again." He admitted.

A puff of air escaped your nose, and you looked down at the hand on your thigh. Memories of explosions and debris flying flashed through your mind, reminding you of screaming Daryl’s name until your throat was hoarse. Subconsciously, you fiddled with the arrowhead chain around your neck, recalling how lost you were out there all alone. Without your family. Without your best friend. Without your Daryl. 

“Me too,” your voice broke. With his other hand, Daryl slowly lifted up your chin to face him again, moving his thumb tenderly across your cheek. You could sense the moment he drew his attention to the pink sizeable scar there, thumb and eyes moving to it and trailing across it as if in question. 

“What happened to ya out there?” Daryl whispered, chewing his bottom lip. It took all your strength not to recoil at the question. 

“So many people have died to get to where we are now. And I’m sure everyone here experienced the same shit…I’m just being selfish —”

“Ya ain’t selfish Y/N…anyone can see ya’ ain’t ya’self. I hate seeing ya’ be consumed by whatever's on ya' mind everyday. Please, talk’ ta me…” Daryl was gentle, but was as firm with his words. He continued slowly dragging his thumb across your cheek for a couple of seconds, then seemingly realised what he was doing and pulled away. 

You were conflicted. 

Daryl’s touch left your skin charred. Everything about him made you feel butterflies. But that, intermingling with the anxious beating of your heart was going to give you a heart attack. 

Here Daryl was, insisting you talk to him. He was the closest person you’d ever been to. Here he still was, showing you his affections. 

“I’m sorry…” you whispered, wrapping your arms around yourself. Daryl’s gaze softened. 

“What fer?”

“For blocking you out…this whole time you’ve been here for me, wanted to be here with me and I’ve given you nothing…” You couldn’t even begin to utter the words. The anger. The shame. “I’ve seen how weary you are of this place. How much you blame yourself for things that have happened. I’m sorry for not being there for you. For not giving you anything, ever.” 

A few seconds passed by Daryl in stunned silence. 

“Y/N….” he whispered. You don’t know who moved first, but now your bodies were touching. “Ya are ma’ everythin’...everythin’ ya’ do, with me and for me... yer’ laugh, yer’ smile, talkin’ ta me…it’s more than I could’ve ever asked for in this life…”

You looked at him. For the first time in months, you really looked at him. It was hard to form words. As you gazed into his piercing blue eyes, yours grew blurry with unshed tears. Daryl's explored yours, trying to decipher the feeling there. 

You'd never been more touched and more loved than in this moment. 

Loved. 

It dawned on you just how much you really loved him.…

The weight of his gaze had you looking down, discreetly wiping your eyes of such emotion with your hand. Grabbing his hand in yours, you managed to find that trust you two had shared so deeply, and allowed yourself to give in to it. 

“It was really rough out there,” you began. Daryl hesitantly squeezed your hand, but once you squeezed back, he intertwined your fingers. The very act spurred you on. “This was a group of men,” you said, a fire in your eyes as you pointed to your cheek with your other hand. “It's not even what they tried to do…it's how after, there was no going back…”

Daryl didn’t utter a word. His very presence was like a beacon of warmth, fuelling the anger in your eyes. Daryl’s anger also heightened. 

“I’ve never…mutilated…anyone like I did then, ever. I didn’t even know I was capable of it.”

You heard a soft grunt from Daryl. 

“Now, I just have a festering anger at anyone who tries anything…it’s like I don’t care anymore. Those people at Terminus…I just wanted them all fucking dead.” You said with a jarring resolution that Daryl could nevertheless understand. 

Daryl recalled the moment he saw you at Terminus. If he was scared shitless, he couldn’t even begin to imagine how you felt with the knife to your throat. But your next utterance interrupted his thoughts of that day. 

“They fucking deserved it, that night in the woods…” you seethed. “But I couldn’t look at myself after. There was so much blood…it was just everywhere. I got some of them in their sleep, slit their throats, some of them woke up to me cutting em’ up…”

There was a far away look in your eyes, as if you were reliving the moments. Daryl saw goosebumps raise on your arms, even though the evening breeze was warm. 

Daryl had an inkling, but he needed to know what they did. He wanted to kill the rest of them himself if they lived. 

“What’d they do ta ya’?” he gritted through his teeth. His grip on your hand tightened. It was now that you broke eye contact. 

“What do you think? They tied me up…touched me, left me by a tree afterwards. I managed to free myself in the night…”

Daryl gripped both of your shoulders firmly. 

“They all dead?” 

You nodded. 

“Good.”

Daryl’s response was terse, but was filled with sad understanding, passion and something else you couldn’t quite place. You were filled with shame. Not only about what they had done to you, but the fact that you were shoving this all on Daryl too. It’s not like he could do anything about it —

“Ya thinkin’ too loud,” Daryl hummed. You turned your head a bit away from him, trying to distance yourself further in hopes to hide your embarrassment. Daryl chewed his lip. “They fuckin’ deserved wha’ was comin’.” 

You inhaled a deep breath. The smell of night time filled your nostrils, with an incredibly subtle undertone of cigarette smoke and leather vest seeping in. Your lungs were filled with familiarity. It was comforting. 

The warmth in your chest being ignited spurred on memories of the prison, when you and Daryl would spend nights close together in the watchtowers, talking about nothing and everything. Usually he’d be smoking a cigarette, wearing his signature vest, and the smell lingered then too. 

You remembered how different you were back then. How innocent. How removed you were from the horrors of brutal killing and maiming. You never had a thirst for blood then, when someone did you wrong. Now you were harder. More cold. It concerned you. 

Daryl’s hands gently rubbing your arms brought you back to him. 

“I know,” you replied curtly. “But that’s not even what keeps me up…it’s like ever since we got here, my mind hasn’t been able to let go of that ‘feral-ness.’ I still think about how I got all that blood on my hands. And I can't get rid of the paranoia that something else bad is gonna happen…” 

Daryl grunted in agreement. “Ya’ shouldn’t be so hard on ya’self. The fact yer’ thinking ‘bout it makes ya’ gud. And I feel paranoid too, bein’ here...but Y/N,” Daryl made you look at him. 

“Nothin’s gon’ happen to ya’. Nothin bad’s gon’ happen as long as I’m with ya’. I won’ let anyone do anythin’ to ya’, alrigh’? Ya’ don’t gotta worry.” 

The way he was looking at you now made a familiar fluttering erupt in your stomach that you hadn’t given yourself the privilege to truly feel. A small smile emerged on your lips. Looking into his eyes now, you noticed they were electrified with emotion. You were sure yours mirrored Daryl’s by the way he was looking at you, an equal mix of intensity and appreciation there. 

Daryl drew his gaze to your eyes, down to your lips, and across to your scarred cheek. He brought his hand up, and cupped that same cheek again, touching it with a graze so gentle, he could've thought his finger and your cheek were one. 

“I meant what I said before,” he whispered. The smile on your face moulded into an expression of shy curiousness as you leaned into his warm touch. “Ya’ are ma’ evry’thing…have been fer a long time.”

Somehow, Daryl’s sincerity was filled with such profound emotion, that hearing him say it was like a punch to the guts. His words winded you, rendering you almost speechless. 

Before you could respond, the music in your earbuds picked up, adding to the ambiance of the moment. As if the universe was attempting to serenade the intimacy between you two, you turned up the volume, and recognised the song immediately. Smiling a big, genuine smile, you slowly stood the both of you up, placed one earbud in your ear, and the other in Daryl’s. 

“Surely you know this one,” you said, a playfully soft glint in your eyes. Daryl could only look on with surprise.

The opening piano riff filled his eardrums. Of course he knew it. You moved to slowly sway with him. 

🎵 I know it sounds funny but I just can’t stand the pain

Girl, I’m leaving you tomorrow

Seems to me girl you know I’ve done all I can

You see I beg stole, and I borrowed 🎵

Daryl could hear you quietly humming along. It was beautiful. You both swayed with each other as the chorus filled your ears, smiles adorning both your faces. Daryl’s hold on your hips tightened as he found more comfort in your movements, slowly caressing the spots there. Your hands tightened around his neck, bringing your faces that bit closer. Mouthing the words, you looked at Daryl. He grew the courage to sing the next verse to you. 

“I wanna’ be high, so high,” he rasped. You looked at him in pure awe and something else he couldn’t pick. “I wanna be free to know the things I do are right —”

“I wanna be free-ee!” You interrupted, “Just me…oh baby…”

As the bridge in the song played, the tension between the two of you reached new heights. Your heart started racing. You could feel Daryl’s pulse also racing underneath your palms. Daryl’s pupils were almost completely dilated. 

As the guitar solo played, Daryl pulled you in close, connecting his lips with yours. Immediately, your mouths melded together as if you’d kissed hundreds of times before. The kiss was so soft, yet so passionate. Your hands moved to hold Daryl’s jaw and the back of his head, and he ran his own hands up your back. 

The sensual tone of the guitar matched that of the smoothness and sultriness between the two of you at that moment. It was as if the alluring quality of the solo gave you both an unwavering confidence about how each other felt. 

As the chorus broke through your ears again, your mouths disconnected, and you both heaved in large breaths. You had never seen larger smiles on the other ever. Daryl gazed at you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. Pulling his hand from your behind, he slowly dragged his thumb across your bottom lip, and you caressed his jawline. 

You savoured the final melodies of the song. You couldn’t help yourself looking at Daryl’s smirk, leaning in to give him a few more soft pecks there. Chasing you for more as you pulled away, Daryl displayed to you the fondest expression you’d ever seen. 

You let a breathy giggle escape your lips. “You’re more than I ever could’ve asked for too, D.” 

[on-twd-writing]

Failed to protect you

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warning: death! angst, the pike scene (S9E15)

Readers pronuns: She/Her

Description: instead of Henry Alpha took the reader and Daryls worst nightmare becomes reality.

Italics is for the flashback. It may not be the correct order of the heads.

Failed to protect you

The wind was strong and cold.

Siddiq words still echoed in Daryl's head, Alphas words as well, and he had a strange feeling in his gut. Something was wrong – something was terribly wrong—and for the first time in years, he felt something like fear. Terrible fear. He couldn’t really grasp it, and Daryl hated it. Not knowing what was going to happen.

The calm before the storm.

Soon the top of the hill came into view, and the further the small group walked, the clearer the picture got. Trees? Stones? No, it was something else – sticks with something secured on top of them. Still, he couldn’t make out what it was exactly.

This place was scary… uncertain… unholy…rotten…

Finally, the picture and the horror got clearer. Especially the horror in front of them. There was no other word to describe the scenario. A line of sticks with heads on top, one after another – ten in total. Daryl could hear Yumiko's cries; he could hear the distraught sounds of Michonne and Siddiq arching in pain. Carol, who was next to him, gasping for air.

Daryl's eyes went along the different heads… Tammy Rose… Rodney, he took a deep breath…

Tara.

Strong Tara, witty Tara – the one who understood him. They had some similarities and a strange understanding of each other. He had liked her; she had been powerful and determined and didn’t take the shit from others. She has endured so much.

As yet she always has followed her heart. "No…" came it from Carol next to him, as she laid eyes their dear, dead friend. The pain in Daryls chest grew with every person he recognized. Every life that has been taken. Erased as if it were nothing. And as if this wasn’t enough, they had secured the head on the sticks to mark the line of territory. A cruel act of violence and power. The archer recognized the young Addy and Enid, who had their lives in front of them. Who still had so many things to experience. They never hurt anyone; they were good people. They were all good people.

And… "No, Daryl, stop!" And now he knew why he had this odd feeling in his gut the whole time. Yet Carol's words didn’t stop him from letting his eyes wander further the line of piked heads. It was too late any way. Next to Enid's cut-off head was another stick. The hair was softly blowing in the cold wind. It was you.

No doubt.

He remembered how he had hugged you before leaving the kingdom earlier that day. He had buried his nose in your hair, which was now softer than while they were on the road. He recalled your words. "Are you sure I shouldn’t come with you?"

You had smiled at him, caressing his cheek. Moments like this were rare, you two weren’t much into PDA, but the situation was different. It felt bizarre to be here, but it felt safe. You were happy and wanted to believe in a good future for the two of you. Despite the horror that was awaiting outside. "Yeah,..ya should enjoy this…little thing here." He was waving his hand around, looking over your shoulder. It felt surreal to have something like a fair after everything that was happening. He didn’t even go to one when he was a child. Merle had called them bullshit, and his parents had other things to do than take care of their children. "This little thing here has been hard work." He chuckled and pressed a kiss on your forehead for a few seconds. His fingers were gently combing your hair, and he could feel the softness at his fingertips.

If he knew he could have saved you by taking you with him… Carol was trying her best to pull Daryl away, who was still staring at your head. Your mouth was slowly opening and closing. There was blood on your face, your eyes pale and stared into nothing. Your head… your head was all that he got… "Let me know when you’re back." He nodded while you smiled. Your lovely smile, the way your eyes would light up when you looked at him. No one ever did this, people used to look at him with disgust, anger, or fear. Gradually, this has changed to friendliness and hope, but you? You always looked at him with bright eyes, like he was someone who was worth something. And now he hasn’t been able to protect you at all. The woman who meant the world for him – who didn’t just mean something to him but everything. He stared at your head, unable to move at all. Suddenly, the world around him went numb. He couldn’t even feel pain anymore, there was…nothing. Nothing at all. You were dead, and he hasn’t been able to protect you like he had promised you a thousand times. He wasn’t with you when you died. He couldn’t be there for you. In his mind the wildest and cruelest scenarios started – how did you die? Did they make you suffer? Has it been fast? Did you scream for him for help, but he never came? Were you alone? Scared?

"She…Y/N…" "It’s …Daryl, don’t…"

Yumiko also appeared in his gaze, and that was when his legs slowly gave in. He sank on the cold floor, and his view got blurry. He didn’t notice the tears in his eyes. He didn’t feel anything at all.

Not a word left his lips—not a single one.

You strolled next to him, closer to the gate. Daryl pushed the bike along beside him. "I miss riding the bike with you." He huffed. "Gonna take ya on a ride soon." You stopped at the gate. "I won’t forget that, Daryl." "It’s a promise, Y/N." He leaned toward you and kissed you again. You couldn't help but grin against his lips, feeling the stubbles of his beard against your skin. It was a lovely kiss. And for this brief moment only the two of you existed.

You took a step back, letting him sit on his bike. You enjoyed the view, and Daryl seemed much more confident on his bike. You remember the countless rides between the different communities. Through the woods. His hair, which was grazing your face now and then… being close to him. You knew you didn’t have to hold on to him that close while riding the bike but you wanted to enjoy those moments. And the archer never complained.

You remember the stops by the lake during the summer. Taking off the boots, walking through the water, splashing each other with water. Like the two of you were getting back the missed time.

The time you have spent in prison. At the sanctuary. The fight against Negan. Losing too many people - Carl, Rick, Sasha, Glenn, Abraham...

Daryl and you missed so much of these blissful moments, together you fought so much and endured so much pain. Maybe this was a happy ending the two of you truly deserved. You've got everything back for this brief moment. You weren't killers. You weren’t the person the world have made you. You were just Daryl Dixon and Y/N Y/L/N and it was alright. Even Daryl allowed himself a moment of freedom. And the freedom was taken. By the whisperer. By your death. He felt trapped in this moment. Now and then Carol's or Yumiko's face would show up in his vision talking to him, yet his eyes were focused on your chopped off head. He died with you in this moment.

[chyckles]

First times

━ A Daryl Dixon drabble

━ Pairings: daryl dixon x fem!reader

━Summary: Where you tell your boyfriend your little secret: you're bisexual. You end up sharing little stories about your past.

━ Words: 1.2k

━ Warnings: Suggestive if you squint (the characters just had sex and they talk about past relationships), cursing, my bad English (I'm from Spain, English is not my first language, my grammar sucks), mention of a shappic kiss (not sure if this has to be a warning, just in case), maybe ooc Daryl? he's complicated

━ A/N: You can imagine this story in any era, but just keep in mind that they mention Merle in past tense, so he's not around anymore. I personally imagined it in Alexandria post-Negan.

This is just a sweet conversation that came to my mind at like 3:00 AM? Just knew I had to share it with the world.

masterlist

You're resting your head on Daryl's chest while he hugs you with his right arm and caresses your lower back. You just had an amazing night and are enjoying a comforting silence, one of those silences that only you two understand.

"Can I tell you something?" you ask suddenly.

"Mhm" he simply responds, with his eyes close.

"It's kind of stupid, I have never told anyone. Not even my family knows"

He opens his eyes, now curious.

"What is it?"

You feel your cheeks getting hot as you look up at him.

"I... because I don't know how the rest of the world would react to it, it's... It's something that I've been struggling with my whole life"

"C'mon, woman, just say it" he says.

"Okay..." you nod, returning to your initial position "I'm... I'm bisexual"

He's silent for a moment.

"What is that? Some kinky stuff?" he says confused.

You chuckle, surprised at his response, expecting anything but that.

"No! You really don't know what it is?" you ask, looking again at him.

He shakes his head, embarrassed.

"It's... it means I like men, but I also like women" you explain to him.

"You mean...?" he raises his eyebrow. He had stop caressing your back.

"Yeah" you answer with a nervous chuckle. You look away, feeling embarrassed. You really have never tell anyone, afraid of what they'll say.

He nods and returns to caressing you, drawing circles in your skin.

"You're not gonna say anything?" you ask confused.

"I don't have anything to say. You aren't in love with any woman, right?"

"Of course not"

"Then that's it" he says, shruing and closing his eyes again.

"You are not... mad?" you are still confused. You really thought he was gonna act differently.

"No, why would I be? My brother, he was the kind to get mad at those things. He thought love only existed between a man and a woman. I don't believe that shit. Nothing to get mad at here"

"I didn't mean it that way, I know you're not like Merle. But... you don't see me differently?"

"No" he says as he kisses my forehead.

You return to rest your head on his shouder, with a smile on your face, now feeling relief. After some minutes, he speaks:

"How did you find out?"

"You know high school wasn't the best period of my life, right? Didn't have a lot of friends. Well, there was this girl... the prettiest girl on high school, at least for me. She always smiled at me, asked me about my day... She was my only friend, so I thought what I felt for her was normal. Then I saw her kissing that guy... and I knew in that moment that I wanted to be him. I felt so jealous... just as you feel when I talk with Charlie, the guy from-" I start teasing him.

"I remember him" he grunts "An asshole"

You chuckle and kiss his shoulder.

"I hope she's okay. Cassie, was her name. I never saw her again after high school"

Daryl kisses your forehead again. You stay silent for a moment again, and then you ask:

"Who was the first girl that you liked?"

"I don't even remember her name, was a long time ago" he starts "She was Merle's girl and-"

"What?" you ask with a gasp and a smile, looking at him "You fell for your brother's girlfriend?"

"I wouldn't call her a girlfriend, he only wanted her for the sex"

"Aww, and you wanted her for real, like, actual feelings"

He turns a cute shade of red "Whatever"

You kiss his chin with a smile.

"Aww, I can picture you. How old were you? Like, 14? Cute, cute, cute"

"Shut up, woman" he's redder than ever now.

You chuckle against his neck, loving teasing him.

"It's just... picturing young Daryl in love makes my heart all warm"

You stay silent after that, just enjoying each other presence.

"You know..." you remember "Actually, my first kiss was with a girl"

"Mhm?" he asks, urging you to continue talking.

"We were at this girl's birthday party, I don't even know why they invited me... Anyway, everything was normal, then she asked me to go to a lonely room in her house. She kissed me without saying anything more. I was so confused but returned the kiss because, God, she kissed well" you chuckle.

Daryl hasn't stop caressing your skin all this time, and he gives a sweet squeeze to you.

"Turns out it was a bet" you say sadly "They all laughed at me after that"

"Assholes" he grunts.

"Yeah" you chuckle "I still remember her despite it, wonder where she is now"

"I hope bitten to death by a damn walker"

You playfully slap his chest.

"It was just a stupid teenager bet, it's not that serious"

"You didn't deserve it" he says, and you look up at him again with a sad smile. You stretch to give him a kiss in the lips.

"What about your first kiss?" you ask as you return to rest your face in his chest.

"It really isn't a nice story. We both were drunk, it just... happened. Don't remember a lot about it. Just remember that we ended up having sex"

"Was it nice?" you ask.

"What? The kiss or the sex?" he jokes.

"Both"

"The kiss was... intense. Not the best, not the worst. The sex... hell, let's just say that it was quick" he says embarrassed.

"You have learn a few things since that moment, then" you say with a smirk, trying to make him feel better.

"Yeah" he agrees, giving you another kiss in your forehead.

"My first time..." you start "At least that was nice. He isn't the best sex I've had (you take that spot for sure), but he was really sweet. Understood that it was my first time and went easy on me. Was not memorable, but at least it wasn't bad"

"Have you ever... done anything with a woman?"

"No, I was so scared to tell anyone that I liked women that never really tried to flirt with one. Why? That would turn you on?" you tease looking at him.

His face turns red once again and he doesn't answer.

"The thought of me with another woman turns you on?" you bit your lip, loving teasing him "You know, there's nothing wrong with that, nothing to be embarrassed about"

He stares at you, biting the inside of his lip, nervous.

"I didn't mean it that way, I was just curious..." he finally says in a low voice.

"Sure" you smirk, but let it die there. You don't like to pressure him. "So... in summary, we both had horrible first kisses"

He nods.

"And not memorable first times" you continue.

He nods again, now with a smile.

"We have grown a lot since that" you say with a smile, looking at him "Now the kisses are honestly perfect, and the sex is actually pretty memorable"

"Mhm" he says, pleased. You kiss him again. This time, the kiss lasts longer.

"Thank you... for not judging me" you say "You're the first person I have told all this to, you know?"

"I know, and I thank you for trusting me, sweetheart"

"I love when you call me that" you say blushing, not used to hearing this word out of his mouth.

"That's why I only tell you it on moments like this, wouldn't be that special if I called you it all the time, hmm?" he smirks.

"You're one of a kind, Daryl Dixon" you chuckle as you kiss him sweetly.

After a long kiss, you return to your initial position, this time with your hand in his chest, to feel his heartbeat.

[carabalism]

family

pairing daryl dixon x teen!reader platonic

synopsis y/n had toughened up very quickly. whether that was purely survival instincts, or the result of her brother’s abuse, she was much tougher since the start of everything.

warning(s) verbal abuse, physical abuse, reader is shane’s sister - aged around 16-18

masterlist

shane audibly laughed at her weak attempt of standing up to him, a cruel smile flashing across his face, “really? that what you think?”

“she’s fine..” y/n muttered.

shane grabbed her by the jaw, squeezing her cheeks together more aggressively than he should, “you listen t’me and you listen good, whatever rick says you listen to me, you listen to just me, y’understand?”

y/n struggled in his hold, which visibly upset him. he pushed her down to the grown forcefully and struck her face with the back of his hand, “you think that hurts, just wait until you see what’s out there! you gotta wake up, y’hear me?!”

when y/n let out a sob instead of responding to him, he crouched down and grabbed her by the face again. his voice was quieter this time, but more intimidating, “i asked you a question, answer me.”

“y-yes, i understand,” her speech was muffled, but she got her words across.

“i don’t want to hurt ‘ya, okay? but you gotta listen to me, i’ll do whatever it takes to protect you.” y/n wanted to cower away from the intensity of his stare, but she nodded dumbly hoping it would placate him.

“good.” shane finally let her go, nodding to himself before rubbing the back of his shaven head, “good.”

y/n jumped up in bed, her heart pounding in her chest. it took her a few moments to realise where she was and to realise she wasn’t in any danger. a sigh of relief escaped her lips, her grip loosening on the knife under her pillow, but not completely letting go.

the loss of her brother had truly shaken y/n to her core as well as the revelation that rick was the one to do it. she could still remember a time when she called rick ‘uncle rick’ and times where the grimes family had shane and her over for dinners. it would never come out her mouth, but she almost felt relieved that he was dead. he wasn’t the same as he was before, the world changed for the worst as did he. they all knew it, y/n knew it too.

he haunts her dreams often.

the more time y/n spent in the world, the more the daunting realisation that shane was actually right came upon her. he may have been losing it, but he was right. she had to fight if she wanted to make it in the world, she couldn’t depend on anyone else to protect her. sophia had done it and that did her no favours.

“y’okay?” y/n’s vision snapped to the front of her cell, where daryl had leant on the doorway. her grip tightened on the knife, but only for a moment before she realised daryl was not a threat to her.

“fine.” y/n muttered, letting her grip finally loosen on the knife. she slipped it back under her pillow and rested her hands on her legs.

“heard ya get up… wanted to check if y’er a’right.” daryl’s eyes focused on the ground, but his words were genuine.

“i’m fine,” y/n nodded, “bad dream s’all.”

daryl grunted in response, nodding in understanding, “i get it.”

“thanks for checkin’.” y/n anxiously fidgeted with her hands. she knew daryl, along with the group were well aware of shane’s less than favourable treatment of her towards the end of his life.

“my brother.. he was the same..” daryl looked at y/n’s eyes briefly, “my dad too.. but i get how y’feel ‘bout shane… he’s blood, ain’t nothin’ that can change that.”

“he used to be great,” y/n sighed, allowing her mind to reach back into a time before walkers roamed around, “he’s always had his moments of being a total asshole, but he always cared… ‘bout me.. would’ve never laid a hand of me if it weren’t for trying to keep me alive.”

“it ain’t ‘bout keepin’ you alive,” daryl paused, unsure if he should speak on the subject, “he laid hands on ya, ‘cause he weren’t all there.”

y/n frowned, “i know.”

“most i’ve heard you talk in a while,” daryl decided to change the subject. he was no stranger to the uncomfortableness that came with the confrontation of abuse. he’d go through the worst times in his life all over again than open up to anyone about it.

“rich comin’ from you, ain’t it?” a small smile spread across y/n’s lips.

daryl scoffed, a grin on his face, “don’t have to be a smartass.”

y/n chuckled, it was quiet, but daryl could hear it. it had been a while since he saw the young girl smile, even laugh at something. it was refreshing to see that she still had it in her to be youthful.

“rick uh… he’s awful sorry ‘bout your brother,” daryl pursed his lips, figuring out the right words to say, “he ain’t send me here, don’t worry… but.. i can tell.”

y/n exhaled a long breath, “it wasn’t his fault, i knew it was going to happen sooner or later anyways… he was cracking, the fear was breakin’ him down.”

daryl grunted in acknowledgement. it was an undeniable fact that shane has cracked. daryl tried to pinpoint a time where it might have happened, but it was hard to say. he was almost always the way he was, but somehow at the end practically unrecognisable.

“he might’ve been an asshole, but he was family,” y/n’s voice shook, “now my family is gone.”

daryl shook his head, “no. y’er family is here. rick, carl, glenn, hershel… they’re family now.”

y/n flashed him a sad smile, he knew that was his way of saying the two were family, but being too introverted to dare to say it out loud, “you don’t think the others hate me?”

daryl’s face scrunched up in confusion, “why’d you even think that?”

y/n chewed on the inside of her cheek, “everyone hated shane… what if they’re lookin’ at me like i’ll end up like him.”

daryl scoffed, shaking his head, “don’ think like that, they ain’t even considered tha’.”

y/n frowned, “how can you be sure?”

“merle was a bigger prick than shane,” daryl rolled his eyes, colourful memories of merle flashing through his mind, “th’people here don’t care ‘bout who y’er related to, they care ‘bout who y’are.”

y/n smiled, trying to blink away the tears that came whenever she thought of her brother, “didn’t take you for a public speaker.”

“shut up,” daryl scoffed, but a small smile sat across his lips, “y’gonna be okay?”

“mhm,” y/n nodded, tucking herself under a sheet, “thank you, daryl.”

he nodded and uttered out a ‘you’re welcome’. he stood at the cell door for a few seconds before leaving back to his perch. she was a good kid, no matter if she saw it or not. the group knew she was, she had proved it to them several times. daryl and carol had always kept an eye out for her, especially whilst her brother was nearing his end.

[scarisd3ad]

Promptober day 19 - “I don’t do costumes”

Pairing - pre apocalypse! Daryl Dixon x reader

Warnings - none

a/n - daryl and reader are maybe 18 possibly 19 in this fic couldnt really see older daryl having an reason to go to a halloween party so i decided that high school is really the only reason d wouldve gone to one.

Promptober ‘23 masterlist

Main masterlist

Taglist

"c'mon D just for the night" I whine as I hold up a batman costume to match my cat women costume. it really wasn't a full costume, when I bought them, I knew Daryl would refuse to wear any type of body suit type thing. so, I bought the mask that would've gone with the full costume and then headed to Walmart to buy a tee-shirt with the batman logo on it. he lets out a sigh as I push out my lower lip in a pout "Please D for me?" he sighs as he shakes his head.

"I don' wear costumes"

I let out a disappointed groan, "seriously dar? it's not even really a costume. think of it as a themed outfit" I roll my eyes as a walk out of my- no our bedroom because even though I live with my parents Daryl spends most of his nights here with us. his family was horrible, and my parents loved him like a son, so we were able to break the no boyfriends staying over rule just for him. I sit on the couch with my arms crossed over my chest, and a sad pout on my lips. Daryl was a stubborn guy; he thought the costume was embarrassing even though everyone else there was going to be dressed up too.

"Fine I-I'll where the fuckin' costume"

I look up to see Daryl stood in the hallway that led into the living room. a glimmer of happiness flickers in my eyes as I smile "really?" he walks over to the couch and sits next to me. "mhm for you."

when we get to the party, he takes the mask off immediately, but he had fun even though he swears he didn't.

Taglist

@leonkennedylefthand @maexyn @truecobblepot @mfnqueen1 @zoey5252 @nezukos-number1fan @bxbyyyjocelyn @dr3amyk1ng

[chokeholds-illegal]

Fantasy (Chapter 3)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader

Era: Season 5 -- The group is new to Alexandria

Summary: Since arriving in Alexandria, everyone is trying to adjust. One morning, when you come home from a hunt before dawn, you accidentally overhear your best friend and housemate, Daryl, indulging himself. What happens when you discover his favorite fantasy is... you?

Warnings: smut (minors, DNI!), mentions of typical TWD gore and violence, innocent & inexperienced Daryl, unprotected sex, past hurt/trauma, size difference kink.

[angst, romance, SMUT.] Daryl is soffftttt, sexy, and adorable. This is the chapter where things finally get... graphic.👀

Word Count: 3.7k (I got a little carried away OK)

Chapter 1: here

Chapter 2: here

---

Upon approaching the house, you and Daryl both slow your steps. We can't get ahead of ourselves. Your hearts are pounding in you chest, cheeks flushed in the darkness. You hadn't said word to each other since your suggestion to come back to the house, both silently swimming in your own surreal thoughts.

Your eyes scan the house for signs of movement. Although it had only been 30 minutes or so after Daryl's admittedly-dramatic exit from dinner, it seems that Rick and Carl had already cleaned up. The windows of the first floor are dark. On the second floor, where Rick's room is, you can see a figure through the closed curtain milling about. The light in Carl's attic space also appears to be on.

"Gotta be quiet," you whisper to Daryl, who has been assessing the house as well.

Wordlessly, the two of you creep up to the front door. Your mind is spinning; it's a funny feeling, sneaking around like horny teenagers trying to avoid their parents. It's surreal. You realize that you never thought life could be this simple again.

You watch as Daryl silently twists the handle and pushes the door open. Tiptoeing, literally, you follow Daryl's figure through the kitchen and down the stairs to the basement. You send a silent prayer that that one creaky step won't betray you again. Your eyes, now deprived of the moonlight, falter, and you nearly lose your step in the darkness. Luckily, Daryl's strong back in there to catch you.

"You okay?" he asks in an almost impossibly quiet voice. You nod and give him a shy smile.

So odd, you think to yourself. You can't even remember a time when Daryl made you feel shy, and now, here you were, acting like he's your high school crush.

Intoxicating.

Once the door to Daryl's bedroom is closed, and you're safely inside, you hear Daryl sigh a breath of relief. He slowly turns to you, as if unsure what to do now. His brown hair is a gorgeous mess, falling into his face. His feet shuffling a nervous dance -- fuck. He's so damn irresistible.

You make the first move, closing the gap between you with haste. Your hands rise to cup his face. His cheeks are burning, despite the chilly night air you'd just come in from. His large, work-worn hands waste no time coming up to hold to your waist. With every movement, your inhibitions seem to float further and further away.

When he dips his head to press his warm lips into yours, he tastes like moonlight, strawberry, and faint tobacco. You feel lightheaded from the realization that this is really happening. From the way Daryl's chest is pounding against yours, you know his head is spinning, too.

Your hands wander upward, gripping hungrily at the hair at the base of his neck. With that, he lets out that same soft, uncontrollable whimper. He pulls back in surprise at his own abandon, and you smile at him with amusement.

"Shut up, " he retorts with a tiny smile before rejoining his lips with yours, harsher this time.

You giggle, careful not to raise your voice above a whisper, as Daryl walks you backwards towards the bed.

Daryl's space is plain. It's just his bed, a shamble of blankets and a crumpled pillow, and his crossbow leaning up against the corner of the room. It's so perfectly... him.

He lightly pushes you onto the bed, and for a moment, he just gazes down at you through his disheveled hair. His dark eyes are blown wide with lust, and suddenly you realize how much larger he is than you. Tall, broad, and covered in beautiful lean muscle. Of course, you always knew the man was a force to be reckoned with, but now, with him towering over you like this... You think about how easily he could take you. How easy he could have taken what he wanted all this time, instead settling for pumping himself into his fist. Arousal pulls at your belly with the thought.

Of course, though, you knew it wouldn't have been easy. Physically, maybe, yes. But you knew Daryl's insecurities would have never let him make a move unless he was deadly certain you felt the same. Maybe others would see that as a short coming, but for you, it was just one of the many reasons why you adored Daryl. There was something so soft in him, under that steely exterior. A wave of gratitude washes over you, that you're here now, witnessing this side of him.

Daryl lowers himself down on the bed over you, leaning you onto your back. He takes care not to put all his weight on you. His lips collide with yours again as you wrap your legs around his waist. You can't help but groan when you feel his erection through his pants, pushing against your core where you need his most. A shaky breath escapes his lips as well.

You grip at the fabric of his shirt as he starts experimentally rutting forward, rubbing his hardness against you. It's as if your bodies are moving on their own, beyond desperate for some kind of relief. It had been so long for you; you hadn't touched someone like this since before the world went to shit. You need Daryl.

Suddenly, Daryl's movements slow. He removes his lips from yours, leaving the two of you quietly panting in the darkness. Worry sets in.

"What's wrong?" you whisper, trying to make out the expression on his face. "Are you OK?"

At first he doesn't reply; in fact, he's not even looking at you. Did I do something wrong? You desperately need him to speak. Finally, after a long pause of silence, he starts to move himself off of you, coming to sit on the edge of the bed.

Shit. This was a mistake. I knew it. A million thoughts are scrambling through your brain as you hurriedly come to sit beside him, the edge of the mattress dipping under your combined weight.

"[Y/N]," Daryl finally says. His voice sounds small and far, far away.

"What is it? If you changed your mind, it's --"

"No, no," he cuts you off with a swift shake of his head. "I want to."

You're confused now. This is the Daryl you hated seeing. The quiet, pained, ashamed Daryl. You bring your hand slowly to his cheek and turn his head to face you.

"Tell me."

His eyes finally meet yours, and your heart shatters at the hurt in his brown irises.

"I want you. But what if I can't... make you feel good?"

You furrow your eyebrows, shaking your head lightly. No.

"I'm no virgin," he blurts out when you don't reply. Daryl straightens his posture a bit, clearing his throat and gathering his courage. "But... it's been a long time. I mean, even 'fore shit hit the fan, before that. And I ain't never done it like this."

"Like this?" you ask gently, wanting to fully understand his anxieties.

"Sober. In a bed instead 'a on some couch in some tweaker's apartment. With someone I actually care 'bout."

The last part comes out softly, as if the words physically stung to say aloud. Your heart swells with thankfulness for his confession and trust in you. The honesty. For the man before you, laying himself bare in the most intimate way possible.

You kiss him. It's soft, and nothing in the world has ever felt more right.

"If you want this, then I want this. And I don't care if I don't come, if that's what you're worried about. I just want you."

Daryl seems to physically melt at your gentle words. The tension in his muscles eases, and the ever-so-slight quivering in his bottom lip fades. A touch of confidence seems to return to his expression, and you beam with happiness when his hand wraps around your waist once more.

"Tell me to stop. And I'll stop. Don't matter when," Daryl breathes out, swiftly moving back over you. Your breath hitches in your throat, both from surprise and arousal, as you're pushed back down into the bed.

You swallow his kisses, which quickly become more and more heated. You graze your teeth against his bottom lip, eliciting a deep moan from the back of his throat. Soon, your hands are at his hips, frantically unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans.

The whimper -- that fucking whimper -- that escapes his lips when your hand accidentally brushes against his underwear-clad member has you in shambles. You're certain that your panties are completely, utterly ruined. Daryl stands up for a brief moment to slide his jeans off. The tent in his boxers look painful, straining. So, you lean forward and hook your fingers into the waistband.

"Can I?" you ask, meeting his wide eyes with yours. You'd never seen him nod so quickly.

When his erection springs free, you groan at the sight. He's huge: long and thick and as hard as a rock. His cock is beautiful, perfectly shaped with a slight curve upward. The head is shiny with slick, and a bead of precum is sliding -- so erotically -- down the shaft.

Something feral takes over you as you dip your head down without another word. A too-loud gasp rips from Daryl's lips, as you lick a thick, wet stripe up his cock. You hope that the two floors of distance between you and Rick was enough to stifle the sound. Daryl quickly brings his arm up to his mouth, biting down on the back of his wrist to keep quiet. His head tips back in pure ecstasy. You wonder if anyone has ever done this for him before.

After another firm lick, you take him into your mouth. The salty precum coats your tongue, making you moan quietly. The vibration of your moan elicits another gasp from the man above you. Daryl's free hand swiftly comes down to palm your scalp, fingers grasping desperately at your hair. You relish in the feeling of being able to make him come apart like this. You bob your head once, twice --

"Fuck, [Y/N]," Daryl frantically chokes out, both of his hands coming to grip your shoulders. "You gotta stop, or I'm gonna be finished righ' now."

You remove your mouth from his member, wiping a bit of droll that had spilled past your lips. You're about to make some quick-witted jest about how you've barely touched even him yet, but you're just as ruined as him. Years now, without being intimate with another human, has left you both oversensitive and frantic.

You pull your shirt and sports bra up and over your head, letting the clothing drop to the ground. Daryl's discarded his own shirt, and is on you before you can process it; his large, calloused hands roam your body like a wild animal.

"So damn gorgeous," he breathes out roughly, pushing you down into the bed and peppering your soft neck with kisses and nibbles. "Wan' make you mine so badly." Your hands roam over him, feeling his innumerable scars -- old and new -- underneath your fingertips. You grab at his shoulder muscles, trying to ground yourself.

But it's too fucking late. You're already lost to the sensation of his bare chest on yours, his mouth working hungrily at your skin, the clean, pine-like scent of him... You're a goner.

Daryl's head travels lower to your breasts, making you gasp out quietly. Your eyes fall shut as his mouth and hands explore your left breast, then the right. The valley in between them, and then finally, his lips close around your nipple. Your back arches off the bed as you writhe beneath him.

"Daryl," you moan out. "That feels so good."

He continues to pleasure you, alternating between your nipples. His lips and tongue work in tandem until your legs are shaking. After taking his time on your breasts, Daryl comes back up to your face, planting gentle kisses on your lips. His care and attention to detail make you feel weak. How long has he imagined doing this?

When Daryl's hands begin to roam lower, tracing the edge of your pants, you waste no time unbuttoning them and pushing them off your legs. Your panties are soaked, and when you remove them next, the air is cool on your wetness. When you peer up at Daryl's face, he's staring down in awe. The shininess of your arousal coating your pussy and inner thighs makes him suck in a sharp breath through his teeth. The way his eyes are trained on your wetness gives him the appearance of a wolf in heat. So focused, so lustful.

What he does next makes your heart beat even harder. Daryl, the huge, rough man who would never kneel for anybody, sinks to his knees on the hard floor. He pulls you to the edge of the bed until is face is face inches from your throbbing pussy. He's so close that you can feel his breath on your core, teasing. Slowly, timidly, Daryl brings his middle finger to the dripping entrance of your pussy. The feather-light touch makes you bite you bottom lip.

“Can I taste you?” His voice is so soft, almost pleading.

“Please, Daryl,” you reply breathlessly. “Taste me.”

Carefully, he dips his head to your cunt. Painfully slow, he licks at your slit. He can't help the moan that escapes when your juices coat his tongue. When Daryl's tongue finds your clit, an involuntary "fuck" slips from you. He feels so damn good.

"Shit. Even better than I thought you'd taste."

"More. Faster," you beg.

Daryl instantly complies. He continues to swirls his tongue around your sensitive bud before experimenting with his lips. He gently sucks on your clit, making you see stars. Delicately, he slides his middle finger -- which had been teasing at your entrance -- into your pussy. One knuckle... two knuckles. You feel yourself clench around his finger. When he adds his index finger as well, you cry out with pleasure.

"Daryl! Fuck."

"That feel alright?" he asks, pausing and meeting your eyes.

"Yes, fuck... So good," is all you can manage to reply. You hadn't had anything besides your thin fingers in your pussy in what felt like a lifetime, and you're unimaginably tight. Daryl's digits opening you up and stretching against your walls is ecstasy. You shiver at the anticipation of what his cock will feel like.

"Tell me what feels best," comes Daryl's voice again. So sweet, so needy.

"When you swirl your tongue... do that again. And keep fingering me," you reply, pleasure clouding your mind. "Please."

Daryl follows your instructions without a word. And fuck. He catches on quick. As his mouth works your clit, he begins to curl his fingers upwards inside you. When his fingertips push against your g-spot, you gasp out and shiver. Your knees threaten to clamp together, but Daryl's free hand holds your legs apart.

You're in heaven.

As you feel the knot of pleasure in your stomach start to grow, you frantically grip at Daryl's shoulder.

"Come here. I need you," you gasp out, clawing at him. "I need you inside me, Daryl."

As he rises from the floor, you shuffle backwards on the bed a bit so you're not so close to the edge. His cock is covered in precum again, leaking streams of the clear liquid. As Daryl climbs on the bed, you take the moment to admire his beautiful physique: tanned skin over hard muscle, shoulders and arms that can lift you with ease... The best part though is his face. His dark eyes half-lidded with overpowering arousal, lips covered in your juices. He looks like an angel.

He lines himself up with your entrance, rubbing the head of his cock through your drenched folds. Daryl's gorgeous mouth is hung open in awe.

"Do you still want this?"

"Yes, yes, Daryl." The words come tumbling from your mouth. "I want you so badly. Fuck me."

That's all the encouragement that Daryl needs. He begins to push into you, so painfully slowly. You grip his hips in a vice, needing something to steady yourself. His forearms frame your head, surrounding you in his scent. The feeling is indescribable; Daryl's cock is so big, and so desperately hard. He slides in easily with your combined juices, yet he moves at a snail's pace, not wanting to hurt you. A litany of curses fall from his lips.

When he's about half-way into your pussy, Daryl pulls back. When he thrusts forward again, it's faster. You cry out in pleasure, attempting to muffle your voice against his bicep.

"I'm not gonn' last long," Daryl admits, his light southern drawl dancing on the shell of your ear. "Fuck. I've wanted this for so long, [Y/N]. You have no idea."

"Go slow," you whisper to him, tears pricking in the corner of your eyes from ecstasy and pain. "It's okay."

Daryl continues his controlled thrusts, venturing deeper and deeper into you until your pelvises meet. The burn you had initially felt is replaced only with pleasure. You moan out his name as he fills you over and over again.

"[Y/N], oh. Fuck," Daryl growls, face buried into the crook of your neck.

You can feel every groove and vein on his cock as it pistons in and out. You shut your eyes, stars filling your vision. All you know is this very moment: the feeling of Daryl inside you, his mouth sucking and kissing desperately at your neck, the heat radiating off of him. You think back to what he had confessed earlier, and wonder if, maybe, you've never had it quite like this either. Bliss fills you, growing.

Soon, Daryl's movements start to lose their controlled nature. He trusts in harder, more sloppily -- his need starts to take over. His hips collide with yours hungrily, and his moans transform into whimpers. You know that he's close.

"Just a bit more, babe," you moan encouragingly, tangling your fingers in your hair.

Suddenly, you feel his teeth as they bite at your earlobe. You let out a shuddering gasp. It's enough to sting, but not enough to truly hurt. It drives you crazy. Before you can process the sensation fully, you're there, too, the knot of pleasure in your stomach snapping and sending you over the edge. Your orgasm rips through your body, making your pussy flutter wildly around Daryl. Your ears ring as you ride out your ecstasy, but you still manage to hear Daryl's voice.

"[Y/N], oh, god. I'm..." is all he can muster before swiftly pulling out of you and releasing on your stomach. You watch in awe as Daryl pumps himself onto you, covering your skin in glistening ropes. His face is contorted into the most beautiful picture of pleasure you've ever seen.

He lets out one final groan before letting go of his cock. As you both catch your breath, you can't help but admire how absolutely gorgeous Daryl looks. A slight sheen of sweat makes his hair stick to his forehead. The heaving of his chest and back as he tries to slow his breathing. And finally, his dark eyes that open to meet yours.

As if suddenly realizing that you're covered in his spend, he hurries himself to the bathroom attached to the bedroom through an open door. He returns a moment later with a wet hand towel. You reach you hand out for it, but he ignores it. Instead he carefully cleans you himself, wiping the warm towel over your stomach and breasts. He does this wordlessly, taking his time, focusing to make sure there's none left. When he satisfied with his work, he tosses the hand towel into the corner of the room.

You reach out again, this time, for his body. You beckon him into arms, and he allows you to lay him down on the bed beside you. Daryl is so warm, so secure and safe. Your entire body buzzes with contentment as you lie there, limbs tangled together.

As the ringing in your ears fades to nothing, the feeling of disbelief slowly starts to creep back into your mind. Did this really just happen? You decide, right then and there, that you don't care if this was all just a dream. You could die right now and be happy.

Finally, Daryl speaks.

"Was that okay?"

Despite the tinge of concern in his voice, you can't help but chuckle. You lay a delicate hand on his cheek, letting your eyes lock on one another.

"Daryl, that was perfect," you assure him. "You're perfect."

Your easy, content smile seems to make its way to Daryl, who allows to return a happy grin. You nuzzle closer to him, enjoying the warmth between you.

"I wasn't lyin'," he suddenly says after a few moments of silence. "I've been wanting you for a long time."

You run your fingers through his messy brown hair, savoring every moment of this unexpected intimacy. After all, it's not just about sex. This quiet -- just laying together, holding one another, laying hearts bare in the silence of the night -- is something you never thought you'd get again.

"When did you start seeing me like this?" you ask curiously.

"Hmm. I don' really know," he admits. "It's like I jus' realized one day that I always wanted to be around you. I dunno. The quarry, maybe."

You whip your head to look at Daryl, shocked by his casual confession.

"The quarry? Like outside of Atlanta?"

He shrugs lightly, a bit of pink returning to his cheeks. "Yeah. Maybe since then. Now, hush. Remember, we ain't the only ones in this house."

You scoff at him, smiling in disbelief. Atlanta. It felt like so long ago -- was so long ago. You settle back into him, letting his strong arms engulf your body.

"All this time..." you whisper, feeling sleep start to tug at your eyelids. "Let's not waste another day."

---

Sorry Part 3 took so long, yall! Life got crazy! This is probably the last part of this Fantasy storyarc, but I'd love to write more chapter of this "world" if people are into it. :)

tags:

@graniairish

@moonlightreader649

@idkseraphine

@noneofitmatterswithoutyou

[writella]

hi! s10 is so fun so enjoy it when you start it! can i request a daryl smut of any kind?

Before We Leave

Synopsis: Here’s one about you sitting all sweet on Daryl’s lap because I have not stopped thinking about him holding you in his arms and giving you all the kisses after reading this headcanon! ♡

Details: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader, set during the period between seasons 8-9, kissing, smut—grinding, thigh riding, fingering, making a mess when you have places to go (such sillies). Mostly proofread. Feel free to give feedback!

A/N: It’s been a minute, guys, I know :( and to ava, so sorry for the wait ♡ I hope you like this and I can’t wait to get to season 10 too!! And know that I definitely still have your initial request in mind for later on!!

First, you noticed his hair: ever so endearingly disheveled, the waves falling so effortlessly as they did in their shaggy way; and then you noticed his skin— it shined. Normally, this would have been because of work and sweat from the late spring heat, but he was clean, he had showered today. He even changed his clothes, and surprisingly, his light beard was trimmed, his face was washed too– it illuminated with his small lazy smile that appeared as you came through the door. He looked so nice and ready to go. Your handsome man. He was waiting for you.

He wore a dark blue long-sleeve, the buttons at the start undone, exposing the top of his chest as he always preferred. And his sleeves, only just big enough to be slightly loose around his arms; they were rolled up at the forearms. It looked good. Though the better fit was his equally loose vest that was layered on top. Seeing it reminded you of how much you missed it. It took him so long to get it back from Dwight. It’s only now that you’re realizing how it fits again, how well it suits him. It’s not that he needed it of course, but you did love how it completed every outfit he wore, making it just so him.

In fact, everything about him was so, so—

“Hey,” he calls to you, his voice itself a finger snap to your attention, “you alright there?”

“Yeah,” you respond, meeting his eyes as you pathetically try to joke, “Just can’t think of the last time I actually saw you sit. We’re always… fighting or doing something aren’t we?”

“Mmhm.” He smiles inwardly. Your staring was nothing short of obvious, and you both know it: You were leaning against the door frame, eyes wide and lingering, trailing over him as he sat on your desk chair. But to him it was sweet, honestly. Almost humorous to see. It was nice to see you smile over nothing other than looking at dumb old him, or at least that's what he assumes of himself. He should know better by now than to think like that, but it's still just his way sometimes. You were in love with him though, and he loved you; and you liked looking at his dumb old face, and he knew that. That's why he doesn’t mind your gazing. That’s why he says, “C’mon,” patting his lap, knowing you wanted to come closer; his eyes catching how much yours went lower and lower, changing from innocent peerings to just a little something else, something more.

You’re hesitant at his invitation, but smiling like a kid. It's true you couldn’t help how good his thighs looked and how good the fingers that splayed over them were— rough and thick— their feeling on your skin taking you back to the past— but his noticing… Well, it just makes you blush. It makes you take slow footsteps, one in front of the other as you come closer to him, bashful and snickering. Once you’re near enough he holds you by the hips and you skip to meet his movements towards him. He turns your backside to him on the right side of the chair and sits you down, horizontal from his forward figure.

“Silly,” he calls you, flicking your nose as he taunts. It’s gentle and harmless even in his typical, slightly grumbled tone.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, your wrists and hands curling at his neck, your side pressed into him. He feels bigger when you’re in his arms like this. As if he can comfort you or sheild you from anyone or anything— and you know he could. So safe is what you feel with him; the sigh you let out proves it. The fighting may have finished almost a year ago now, but moments like this are truly what feels like peace. And with that, your mind drifts backwards again. Realizing how you don’t remember the last time you’ve sat like this. With him. Just holding you.

One of his hands holds your thigh while the other grounds you by the lower waist, nearing your hip. You turn your face to his, raising a hand, parting some of the hair in front of his forehead, holding his jaw and you kiss him. You put your tongue between his lips. It’s quick but tender. There is a tiny trail of spit between you two as you let go. Tilting your head, you look at him with an already happy and dazed little smile. You don’t remember the last time you got a good look at him either. And you’re not talking about any of the times you’ve looked at him while simply talking or standing by him, that was almost all the time; but for so long standing next to each other was to cover one another in a fight, kill a walker, but this— this was simply because you wanted to, because he was yours, and you loved him, and you could.

He goes in to meet your lips first this time, holding you by the neck and jaw with one hand, and the other is at your back making you lean in closer. You give in to him, let him take the lead. Your feet curl under the chair and you smile into his indefinite kisses. It makes you accidentally nip at his lower lip which turns into him intentionally biting your lip thereafter. It’s just a bit harder, but he might have done it a tad more sharply than he intended.

“Ow,” you hiss, hushed and soft between breaths, but he’s already soothing the area at the corner there, giving you a lick and little pecks before returning to what he was doing before: kissing you and kissing you.

“You’re fine,” he tells you dryly in between.

Your hands lowers to his chest, feeling his collarbones, then down to his heart. Your fingers rest on the exposed skin there, then trailing lower, ghosting over the closed buttons. You want to, but maybe you shouldn’t. It wasn’t exactly the time.

Originally, you had come home to shower and change: Everyone was having dinner together at Rick and Michonne’s tonight, the first time in a long time. In fact, it was Judith who requested it; she said specifically how much she wanted all of her friends to be there. And you couldn’t disappoint the sweet girl who gave you a construction paper and crayon written invitation, asking you to promise Uncle Daryl would come. The ticket was for both of you, a little picture of you two holding hands at the bottom. ‘Pretty smile you,’ and ‘grumpy pants him,’ she explained.

It was hilariously perfect and it made your heart leap. You and Micchone laughed for a whole minute about it and you hugged Judith immediately after.

Though you couldn’t believe that she could possibly think Daryl wouldn’t come. Of course he’d do anything for her, and you would too, so just as much, ‘Of course,’ you told her, ‘We’ll even be there 10 minutes early so we can pick seats next to you,’ you had said.

But now you’re here, in such a cliche you’d roll your eyes at if you weren’t so in the moment, with Daryl touching up your leg and you allowing it. For once, you’re the one all dirty in your work clothes. And the longer you kiss him, and the longer he holds you on his lap, the more you feel it; the want, the need. You’re getting restless and you’re struggling to weigh the options in your mind.

You lived in Alexandria, helping Rick, Micchone, Rosita… And Daryl, he was sent off to head reconstruction at the Sanctuary: you two don't get to see each other as often as you’d like.

And the Sanctuary wasn’t a place you particularly liked visiting anyways, especially not at first, and he didn’t blame you. But you had still talked to him about trying it, staying there. Maybe a week, maybe longer, maybe seeing if someone else can take over your Alexandria responsibilities, but honestly, he didn’t want you there either. He didn’t even want to be there. Every week that went by was another step closer to talking to Rick about leaving.

Still, moments like this are when you wonder about asking again, if you should be the one to finally move instead… The thought fades as Daryl now groans slightly into your mouth, you had pushed yourself down on his groin which elicited the dark sound, and you moan into him in response. Your hand gripping tightly to his bicep and his digs into your side, holding you tight— you’re losing the ability to think.

His tongue is twisting with yours, and his hand goes lower on your hip, the other deeper into your hair. You’re starting to have a heat pool at your center and you're squeezing your thighs together.

Daryl can sense it and feel all of it: the indecision, the squirming– your feet shuffling and curling against each other, your legs slowly swinging up and under the chair as you do so, as your continue to melt into his lips.

And he does feel it too, though he’s better at not showing it, but you do start to feel him shifting underneath you. An erection starts to harden as your hand goes lower on his chest and the little sounds of you humming into his mouth become more sexy, more desiring, than simply sweet as you continue.

He lets go, slipping his fingers between your knees, “We don’t gotta do too much.”

This makes you laugh. You’re still looking at him all dopey eyed, and more than slightly needy despite your words terribly trying to fight it, “What’s just enough then?”

His hand moves up along your inner thighs as an answer. His fingers trail up until they reach the center, and press into you at the inseam of your jeans. You start to buck up to his movements just as they begin. You even put your own hand over his, pressing into yourself more, your head tilting back. You bite your lip, whining lightly.

“Like that?” He asks, your neediness surprising the both of you.

“Last time I saw you was last week— for a day,” you’re speaking between light, out of breath pants, “outside- scavenging- no time.” Leaning forward into his touch, pretty sounds trail out, “-uh, mmm.”

You continue to grind against his hand harder, adding your other hand on top of his for more pressure until he says, “Get up.”

You stand, starting to undo your jeans and Daryl pushes the back of your chair further against your desk and starts to unbuckle his belt, but right before he finishes, you stop him. You grab his hands, “Wait,” you tell him, slipping off your shoes, and discarding your pants until you sit down again, straddling his lap.

There was something about the way you could see the outline of his bulge by how his pants laid on him, and the nice friction you knew the jeans would cause underneath you that felt so enticing. And more importantly, his bulge looked huge, fat even, you wanted to sit yourself perfectly right on top of it, making sure you could feel it all squish deliciously into your pussy lips with only your thin underwear covering you.

You begin to rock, pushing down against him. Your tiptoes reach the ground, helping you dig in and your hands go to grab onto his shoulders. Daryl holds your hips, thumbs pressing into your back, helping to roll your body into his.

His legs shift beneath you and it makes you think about his thighs again. How yummy they would feel just like his bulge…You have a little bit of time, right? Never mind- you’ll do it fast.

You get up once more, now placing yourself on his left thigh and you start rocking against him again.

Daryl quietly lets you, his hands go under your shirt and you let him take it off, leaving you in only your underwear while he’s fully clothed. He doesn’t mind letting you do what you want right now, he’s enjoying it. Grunting lowly, loving how he can watch you in your blissed out state: your open mouth, your sloppy humping and riding, how you're whining and panting as he touches up your stomach, how you’re so needy that you take one of his hands higher to caress your breast. He licks his teeth, “Need it bad, huh?” He tenses his quad, applying pressure so perfectly, just as you’d been thinking about for days. “Huh, sweetheart?”

“Think about you everyday, Daryl.” You sound just a bit too pathetic, but he eats it up, a small wicked grin coming to his face just looking at how much you wanted him. Not only thinking about his cock stuffed in you, but even how you wanted his thighs too? Just him in general? His poor girl, so deprived of him. He hated being apart, but fuck did he love how desperate it made you when he visited, desperate for him, desperate for him to give it to you or let you have it in any way. It gave him ideas of what he would do to you after you got back from dinner.

Your knee is centered in the middle of his thighs, pushing against his groin with each roll of your pelvis and the rock of Daryl’s hands as he pushes your hips forward, both helping you reach that point of pure bliss, going hard and deep, while giving him just a bit a release from the tension he feels because of you.

You close your eyes, head tilting up to the side lightly, mouth agape. “Ah, mm-” Your frustrated sounds then turn into you sighing so light, so sweetly, “I missed you.”

His hand reaches the side of your face briefly, rolling over your hair and cheek, “Missed you too.”

You knew your underwear was more than damp at this point, but you hoped the dark denim of his pants would mean it wouldn’t be that bad. You were lying to yourself honestly, but you did have wipes anyway, and… Was it bad to say you wanted to soak his jeans? For him to see the mess you made? Remember how big of a spot you created for later? There was no mistake, he had to spend the night. Having dinner in Alexandria made it so that it was too late for him to go back to the Sancutary afterwards. You wondered what he’d do to you later, what you’d let him do. He did miss you, he said it himself after all. And you feel his stare on your lower stomach as you continue to roll yourself on him, as he watches your clothed pussy make a mess of his jeans. And he sees the way his unintentional grunts and slight growls to the sight of you make your head tilt back, mouth opened so wide like you were already preparing to suck him off.

Your eyes are closed, your open mouth allowing a string of “ahs,” to come out as you continue to rub yourself against his muscle, wiggling a little, back and forth, going in a circle for a second to get more attention onto your clit, feeling yourself get wetter and wetter from your boyfriend’s big, and thick thigh. Your knee digs into him harder and he uses one hand to push it against him more.

After he lets go, one of his hands slips into your underwear, placing his middle finger over your clit, rubbing fast circles into it as much as he can as you continue to rock down on both thigh and fingers now. The extra friction feels so good. You’re whining, your panting, holding onto his shoulder with one hand, the other hand grabbing onto your desk, trying to stabilize yourself as you attempt to go faster, your movements becoming more erratic. “Daryl, please,” you whine, “help me.”

He places his free hand on your ass, kneading it forward and his other hand tries its best to circle into your pussy as much as it can.

As his middle finger continues to circle your clit, his two other fingers push into either side of your labia. “Go on,” he encourages, “Already made a mess. Make it bigger.” He moves his hand to your hip again, pushing you down. “You got it.”

Then he starts bouncing his leg, you bounce along with him, trying to rock as hard as you can. You start moaning louder, it’s continuous, you’re getting closer, you see yellow white light behind your eyes as a release takes over you, it’s hot and you can barely breathe, you almost wail as you coat his hands, ruining your panties, soaking his jeans. It felt amazing.

You huff out heavily now, finally opening your eyes to see Daryl take his hand from beneath you, licking his fingers clean. Wet popping sounds come out after he sucks each one, looking you directly in the eye. “Mmm.”

You blush gingerly at him. Getting up you see the large wer spot on his pant leg. It wasn’t a circle, it was ovular, taking up half the area of his thigh. Your teeth clench, you thought it would be big, but… you didn’t know it would be that big. This wasn’t something you could quickly clean off. “I guess it’s a good thing you keep your extra clothes here?”

He keeps his face straight, he figured as much would happen, but it was fun to see you squirm. “These were my extra clothes.”

“Oh.”

You should have let him take his pants off.

[celtic-crossbow]

Spencer: You’re looking gorgeous as usual, Y/N.

Y/N, laughing nervously while looking around for Daryl: Uh, thanks?

- Several hours later -

Y/N: You’ve been quieter than usual today.

Daryl, sharpening a knife: Can’ plan a murder out loud now can I?

[lilgoblinbitch]

inspiration given by @yummymeee (you are giving me good ideas thank you thank you lovely 🩵)

☾₊˚ ༘⋆

daryl wasn’t one to fuck a girl on his motorcycle, yet here he was. letting you bounce on his cock while a cigarette hung off his lips.

“‘atta girl,” he praised you, a hand roughly gripping your ass as you slid up and down his thick length. his other hand was taking the cancer stick from his lips and puffing the smoke out, clouding your vision temporarily.

you ceased your movements just to snatch the cig from daryl’s fingers and bring it up to your parted, panting mouth.

“did i tell ya ta stop?” daryl grumbled. this time he placed both hands on either side of your hips and thrusted up into you, vehemence in his mannerism. a whine sneaked past your lips which hugged loosely around the cigarette, while daryl proceeded to jostle his hips against yours.

you took a hurried hit from the cigarette and offered it back to daryl. he caught it in his grasp but before tucking it back between his teeth, he smashed his lips onto your own, the menthol on your tongue a lingering taste on his own. yours bodies pressed together, the stifled cries of pleasure vibrating into daryl’s hot mouth as he steered your hips, plowing himself into you.

it was like a scene from steamy romance film — a careless woman unable to resist her intriguing biker-archer loverboy with a somewhat cloak-and-dagger personality, so she decides that seducing him in the middle of the night on his motorcycle is the right approach to her longing. unironically you probably had watched a movie similar to that back in the day; you lived for anything to do with passionate romance in literature and film.

and now, your lust for passion manifested into this moment, with your core hugging around daryl dixon’s throbbing cock that was pounding into you, while you were rocking on top of his sleek leather cushioned bike.

daryl’s hands kept their place on your hips, which you were certain would end up leaving marks on your skin. but that didn’t concern you, because the way the archer was ramming his cock into that precious spot in your sopping cunt made you high. so fucking high off his cock.

your tits bounced with each thrust of his hips underneath you. the cig was dangling from your mouth, the spark in it slowly starting to die due to lack of use. daryl noticed and swiftly took it from your mouth, placing it in his own, all the while his assault on your yearning hole quickened and became harsher. he couldn’t help but reach a hand up to your breast, fondling the hardened bud with his fingertips while kneading the flesh with his palm.

all of the stimulation was becoming overwhelming. “unhh, dar, gonna cum,” you whined, your upper body losing its strength. your shaky hands anchored your body by grabbing a hold of his stiff and broad shoulders. in your fucked out state you finally gave in and fully collapsed your weight into him, tits pressing against his hard chest as he bouced your bruised hips on his large cock.

daryl grunted with each thrust, the intensity of his pace escalating. your throbbing clit rubbed against his pubic bone, sending waves of pleasure coarsing through your blood. eventually daryl pulled you steadily by the hair, lifting you off his chest, “need ta see yer face,” he rasped, husky voice leaving you even more of a crumbling mess.

you bit your lip and gripped daryl’s shoulders to steady yourself and ultimately keep you from cumming right then. he took notice in your desperate fucked out state and slowed his thrusts. the cigarette in his mouth was almost down to a nub, so he took one last puff and let the smoke bombard both of your glistening bodies, then tossed it to the ground.

“i gotcha. ‘m gonna—“ he released a heaving groan, his voice giving out from the way your tight walls clenched around him. “‘m gonna fuckin’ cum in ya if ya don’ stop tha’”

your mind was hazy, legs trembling around his waist, ready to release yourself onto his bulging member that greedily fucked your hole.

“please, daryl!” your eyes brimming with tears, the sensations swallowing you whole. sweat dripped from the bangs that hung over his eyes, and under the dim glow of the firepit you could see in his eyes that he was ready for release.

daryl brought a hand down to pinch your clit. “go ‘head, cum f’me ya dirty girl.” and that was all you needed to hear in order to spill out all over his cock, making a wet mess in his lap. his hand reached back to your mouth, muffling your whimpers to ensure no walkers would barge in on the lewd scene you two were creating. soon he pulled your slick folds off his cock so that he could release his load onto your stomach.

the two of you were a sweating huffing hot mess. “wow, dixon.” you brushed the sweaty hair away from your face, “didn’t really think you’d actually fuck me on your precious bike.” you slung a leg over the motorcycle, feet hitting the leafy forest floor and bent down to ruffle through your bag for a cloth to wipe your stomach with.

daryl’s eyes followed your body. “couldn’t help it.”

you smirked, knowing you truly won if daryl dixon actually allowed you on his bike, let alone fuck your brains out on it.

hastily he grabbed your hips and forced you back onto his lap, another cigarette already somehow magically lit up in his mouth. “sit down, i ain’t got to hear bout yer day.”

you would call this an ideal evening — one which continued with you blabbering on endlessly while daryl admired your presence and the comfort of your thighs on his lap.

perhaps he’d end up going for a round two later.

☾₊˚ ༘⋆

[rickgrimeswifey]

Hi! I love your work, if your free can you possibly do a Daryl x reader fic of Y/N announcing her pregnancy to him?

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A/n: Merry Christmas everyone! I was in the mood for drama today, you can tell by the way this turned out... anyways I hope you enjoy!

Category: Tiny bit of angst, definitely emotional though

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader

Season: Early season 6

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of sex, verbal argument

Word count: 1.4k

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Y/n's hand shook as she waited for the result to show itself on the stick in her hand. Her and Daryl had talked about maybe having a family in the future, but she didn't know if he wanted one this soon. They'd been together for two years, they'd met at the prison where they fell in love. When it fell they escaped separate ways and didn't see each other again until after terminus.

As soon as they saw each other they held each other close for hours, not wanting to risk getting away from each other again. Daryl couldn't stop holding onto her for a second, she was everything to him. After Beth passed he became more distant, he was grieving and blaming himself thinking that all of it was his fault. When Y/n tried to tell him otherwise he'd just get upset with her and walk away.

The group were on the road a long time, during the time they were on the road Daryl began coming back to his old self. Except that he was frustrated all the time because there was barely any food to be found. Then Aaron welcomed them into Alexandria. At first they thought it was a trick but soon realized that the people here couldn't do any harm.

Once Daryl had been given his job here and settled in, he had a chance to relax and breathe for a moment. That's when he began to come back physically to Y/n. Once he saw her all dressed up for Deanna's welcome party, he couldn't help but to not have his hands all over her. Telling her how beautiful she was and how much he loved her. Ever since that day he had not been able to keep his hands off her. Y/n didn't mind though, she was happy to have Daryl back the way he used to be before Beth passed.

Y/n and Daryl repeatedly having sex everyday led to her becoming pregnant. The timing couldn’t be more perfect in Y/n’s mind since they had established that Alexandria is really a safe zone. Here they will be able to raise a child safely. But then again Daryl might not be as thrilled about these news.

She was currently sitting in the bathroom staring at the pregnancy test in her hands. Just like Lori she had sent Glenn to get it for her. When she looked back at it after a minute the little screen had changed to two lines. She was pregnant.  Daryl wasn’t home yet and wouldn’t be for another couple of hours. Therefore Y/n had time to think and eventually overthink the way to approach this subject with Daryl.

The hours she waited for him to come home went by fast. Y/n was incredibly nervous, these hours had made her think more and more negatively for each passing minute. What if Daryl didn’t want to have a child and breaks up with her? What if he gets mad? What if he gets distant again? All of these thoughts were soon about to be answered as Y/n slowly walked down the stairs, careful not to make a sound. She approached Daryl from behind while he was sitting in the kitchen on a stool with his back facing her. Once she was close enough to him she put her hands on his shoulder then rubbed her hands down his back, massaging him. She knew he was tired, it was quite obvious by the way he hunched over the kitchen island. An approving grunt escaped Daryl while Y/n rubbed his back. He loved that she always knew exactly what he needed after a long day of work.

When she removed her hands from him he turned around and looked at her. Scanning over her features before standing up and bringing her into a hug.

“Ya okay?” he drawled before pecking her on the neck with his lips.

“Mhm…” Y/n hummed leaning into his chest, hugging him extra tight.

“Ya sure? Ya don’t seem so good.” Daryl questioned, pulling back to look at her.

She frowned looking off to the side avoiding eye contact with her boyfriend.

“Hey… tell me what ‘s goin’ on?” He softened his voice as he pulled her face to look at him.

Y/n stared into his eyes, he was worried about her. He always was, that was one thing no one missed about Daryl, he was very caring and overprotective of the people he loved.

“Let’s sit down Daryl…” she sighed, pulling him into the living room.

She sat down onto the couch and placed her hands nervously onto her thighs. Her breathing heaving as she thought about what to say. Daryl noticed her nervousness and couldn’t help but to assume the worst. He didn’t sit down but just stared at her. He’d been through betrayal and women cheating on him before. All of those conversations always began exactly like this.

“Please sit. It’s important.” Y/n tried to get him to sit down, him standing and staring at her didn’t ease her nerves.

If anything it just made her far more nervous. She knew Daryl was thinking about something by the way his expression had changed into something else. He seemed anxious and angry. That was his way of showing that he was nervous by getting upset and quite irritated.

“I don’t know how to say this… but-” she began but was cut off by a furious Daryl.

“What are ya ganna tell me? Huh!? That ya have been goin’ around spreadin’ yer legs for someone else?” He pointed his finger at her, spitting as he began shouting.

Y/n sat there flabbergasted. Was that what he really thought of her? She knew Daryl had it rough and that he had trust issues but not like this. She felt bad knowing he’d been cheated on before although that didn’t stop her from growing angry at him for assuming something like that. All this stress didn’t help her react and tell him that he was wrong, instead it probably only made him think she was cheating on him even more as she said;

“Daryl please listen-”

“Nah! So it‘s true!?” He paced around in front of her fuming with anger. “Yer fuckin’ someone else?”

All Y/n could do was panic, this panic making the words get stuck in her throat. She couldn’t do or say anything while Daryl just stared at her, burning daggers through her skull.

“Fuck!” He yelled and threw the nearest object he found across the room. “Was it Spencer? I’ll kill that little fuckin’ brat!”

He began to walk out of there when he realized she wasn’t answering, heading towards the door. That’s when Y/n’s body finally let her react, she couldn’t let him walk away thinking she’d cheated.

“Daryl stop!” she pleaded and began to cry while grabbing onto his arm.

He shoved her off, making her stumble backwards until her back hit the wall. She didn’t know what she was so afraid of in telling him the truth. A simple conversation led to this huge fight all because of that she couldn’t deny his suspicions from the lump in her throat. But something clicked inside of her when she saw him reach for the door handle on the front door. It was really now or never. She knew she’d never have a chance to talk to him ever again if she let him leave.

“I’m pregnant!” she yelled out, causing Daryl to stop his actions immediately.

He spun around in a second and stared at her once again.

“What did ya say?” he drawled in a low tone.

“I’m pregnant, I haven’t cheated on you. I never would, Daryl please…” she began to plead again.

“Yer pregnant?” he asked, not believing what he was hearing.

“Yes… I was just so nervous of what you would think- I mean I was thinking maybe you would leave me I don’t know… I just-” Y/n began explaining with her voice shaking, she was cut off by Daryl sprinting up to her and pulling her into a warm hug.

“I would never leave ya. Even if ya would have cheated on me, I probably wouldn’t have been able to stay away from yuh.” Daryl reassured her while rubbing his hand up and down her lower back. “I didn’t hurt ya when I pushed ya off me, did I?” he asked, pulling his head back to look at her in worry.

“No, you didn’t…” she sighed, breathing in his scent through her nose. “So what do you want to name the baby?” she smiled up at him.

Daryl chuckled before shaking his head at her. “We have a lot more to figure out before we get to that.”

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Tag list: (click here to be apart of it!)

// @slut4glenn // @nobody_somebody_me //

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[suniloli]

BOILING POINT p3

7 Feb 2024

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.8K (dayum)

Warnings: Swearing, sexual themes, crude language, description of blood and violence, angst

Setting: Prison (between s3 and 4)

Summary: It’s the next day at the prison, and you’re feeling good. However, something is said which is way over the boundary of acceptable. Is this truly it?

Author Note: Final part! And obviously who wants to read a fic of two people fighting for like 72 years? I know most readers probably wouldn’t act this way. But too bad >:) I’m thinking this might be a bit out of character for Daryl…but it amuses me so why not? I hope the carrot joke makes sense. I also hope the 'pay off' isn't rushed. (This gif is funny) -Sol

Part 1 / Part 2

Surprisingly, the next morning you were much more chipper. The sun was shining brightly through your cell curtain, and you could hear the chatter and laughter of people in the prison. Today’s gonna be a good day you smiled to yourself. 

You tried to forget yesterday. You guessed crying it all out and venting to Rick must’ve allowed your brain to finally come to the beginnings of peace, and to let go of this whole thing with Daryl. He didn’t want a relationship with you anymore. And, who cares if he wanted one anyway? It’s hurting you too much. It’s hurting you both. 

You were done. 

So, no matter what happened, today was going to be good. You could feel it. 

Normally you hated doing stuff in the garden, but today it was quite therapeutic. Bound to have some mighty tan lines with the sun beating down on your singlet-bearing skin, you fixed up your gloves. Wiping a bead of sweat from your hairline, you adjusted your sunglasses and pushed yourself up from your crouched position. Sighing contentedly, you observed the hustle and bustle of the mid-morning prison activity. 

There were plenty of people in the courtyard sitting together in groups talking and laughing, sharing in the day’s glow. You could see Carol and some other women conversing and preparing some stuff in the outdoor kitchenette. Across the other side of the grounds, Glenn was teaching a group of people some combat skills. Turning around, you looked up to the watchtowers and saw Maggie and Sasha. You reciprocated Sasha’s wave and Maggie’s smirk and turned around when you felt a presence behind you. 

“Hey Beth!” you greeted with a pat on her shoulder. 

“Hey Y/N. Bringin’ round some water to everyone.”

“Thanks,” you said, eagerly grabbing a glass and chugging it within a couple of seconds. Handing it back to Beth with a grin, you added, “What? It’s hot out.”

Giggling, she agreed and placed the tray on the ground. “I can already see the burn on your shoulders…don’t be turnin’ into a lobster now!”

Nudging her with your elbow, you feigned offence. “I tan beautifully, thank you very much.”

Your banter was interrupted by a group of people from Woodbury. A few hey’s and friendly exchanges were made, mainly between Beth and them. They were a bunch of younger teens, some of which you recognised. The one with glasses was Patrick, who you liked because he was fond of Carl. And another was Zach. He was the one giving Beth rather flirtatious glances. Cute. 

You waited until they left before speaking. “You get along pretty well with that Zach guy…” 

“Hmm?”

You smiled. “Zach. The guy who was giving you flirty eyes.”

“What?! No he wasn’t…” Beth looked down shyly. 

“Uh, yeah he was. The dude was flirting with you big time. For the record, I think it’s cute.”

“Do you think so?” Beth asked. Oh, to be a teenager with a crush again. 

“YES. FYI, we’re living in the apocalypse. So if I were you, I’d go for it. Time is truly of the essence these days…” you mused. 

“I’ll make you a deal…if I make a move, you have to too.” 

A huff of air escaped your nostrils. “With whom exactly?” You humoured. You realised what she was hinting at until it was too late. 

“Daryl of course. And for your information,” Beth paused, a cheeky expression taking over her face. “I saw the two of you that one time…behind the stables…”

“Uhhh…” 

“My window was open…” she said sheepishly. You didn’t say anything. “He likes you, I can tell — ”

“That was a mistake. What…happened…meant nothing.” You tried to divert.

“As you said, time is of the essence. You should talk to him.” You could see her deliberating something in her mind. The next second, she brought you in for a tight hug which caught you off guard. “I…heard yesterday…it ain't very nice what he said. I’m sorry…”

Slowly returning the embrace, you took a long breath. “Well, I’m over it.”

Looking up at you, she sighed and gave you the best puppy dog eyes she could muster. “Well," she began, in an attempt to lift the mood, "As long as you know that I love you Y/N, and I’ll never let you go!” She squeezed tighter around your waist. 

“Get out of here!” You laughed, trying to push her off and away from you. “Go hand out some more drinks!” Beth released a hearty laugh as she picked up the tray and headed to the other workers. 

You looked down at your half-full bucket of harvested veggies. You sighed deeply. You just couldn’t escape him.

Fuck. 

It was much closer to lunchtime when you approached the main courtyard. It was as if the people could sense that it was going to be served soon. However, as you approached, the delicious smell emanating from the kitchen space would’ve had you all antsy too if you’d been around. 

“Howdy ladies,” You drawled. “Stew smells ab-so-lutely divine. Delicious. Delectable.” Placing your yield in front of an amused Carol, you pinched a carrot and munched on it slightly obnoxiously. Receiving a look of feigned disgust from her, you were satisfied. 

“You like the letter D I see” she quipped. You hadn’t noticed someone standing by your side when you pointed your carrot to her and tried to keep a straight face. 

“I certainly do like the D. But the kind exactly like this carrot. Thick…real girthy…”

A beat of silence before Carol burst out laughing. Your laughter was getting difficult to hold. You could feel the air being held captive in your lungs as you attempted to hold your breath. Eyes still sparkling, she looked a little to your right, pointing with the utensil in her hand. 

“Like his D, I’m sure…”

You turned to see none other than Daryl, who seemed to be waiting with a pained expression. Based on his odd-looking grimace, you awkwardly assumed he’d heard everything. 

Carol…you bastard. 

You looked back to Carol, whose mischievous smirk turned slightly perplexed at his demeanour. Unbeknownst to you, Carol was thinking about her and Daryl’s conversation yesterday, and how she’d seemingly gotten through to him. She thought that you two had talked and ‘made up’. Guess not…

“Real classy, ain’t ya?” he spoke under his breath. 

You got it wrong. Today was not going to be a good day. 

As Daryl nearly threw a cut of raw meat down on the bench for its use in the stew, you attempted to keep it nonchalant. 

“Lighten up Daryl,” you smirked, pausing for a couple of seconds. He looked up at you. You couldn’t help but stir the pot. Just a little. If not for yourself, but for the reaction of your friend next to you, you told yourself. “It’s not like I’m missing out on anything,” you said sarcastically, giving Daryl’s body a once over. You were about to ignore him and continue with Carol until you heard his voice, more of a growl than an actual utterance. 

“Don’t seem like ya missin’ out on any dick lately.” 

You could sense a silence overtake the people in the kitchenette. You don’t think you’ve ever heard Daryl be that vulgar before. But, you were incensed at his insinuation. Did you hear what you thought you did?

“......What?”

Daryl went to stalk off, but you moved forward, gripped his forearm, and turned him back around harshly. 

“WHAT?” 

“Ya heard me.” He spat. You were completely baffled. You had no idea what he was talking about. You did what you could to try and remain calm. 

“What. Are you fucking on about?” you said slowly. You attempted to clench your fists at your sides to subdue the growing feeling. Your heart rate was beginning to rise. This was not good. And you still hadn’t even finished your carrot. 

Staring you up and down, he seemed to consider you. But just as the softness in his eyes was there, it quickly vanished, and in its place was something sad and bitter. 

Daryl aggressively chewed his bottom lip. “How bout’ ya just go find some desperate dick to warm ya bed.”

“Daryl!” Carol chastised. You glanced at her, at a complete loss for words. 

You were barely aware of the growing crowd of people who were wondering what the commotion was about. However, that was your last straw. You’d had it with him and his emotional back and forth. Daryl’s face was looking punchable as fuck. 

Holding back tears, it was like something possessed you. “You FUCK —”

"Y/N!" Carol yelled. Before she could stop you, you landed a beautiful left hook to Daryl’s nose. Immediately a rivulet of red poured from his nostrils. Daryl was stunned, to say the least. 

“Uugghh!” Holding his face, he removed his hands to look at them. Daryl immediately moved forward to push you. “What tha' hell Y/N?!”

Luckily for you, your adrenaline had given you ultra instincts. You didn’t even register the pain in your hand as you deflected his own. Out of pure anger, you managed to shove both of you to the ground. 

Half straddling him, you managed to lay a few good punches into his face, before Daryl realised his strength. Kneeing you in the guts, momentarily winding you, he flipped you over, and mid-flip his right hook made contact with your left eye. You could feel your eyebrow split open and felt something warm gush down your face. 

You could vaguely hear children screaming and yelling in the distance. You thought you could see a crowd of people running towards you, but you were too blinded by your hurt (and blood). The both of you got another few good hits in until it became what could only be described as a cartoonish scuffle on the ground. It would’ve been comical if not for the blood and damage you’d inflicted upon the other. 

“Fuck you, Daryl!!” You screamed. “Ooof!” Daryl had managed to pin you to the ground, holding both of your arms in place. Wiggling and squirming, you used all of your might to attempt to get out of his grip. 

Daryl, just as fuelled, looked down at you from above. Time seemed to stop. You looked pained. There was blood pooling over and into your whole left eye. He was sure he looked just as bad, if not, worse. But what made him pause was seeing tears escape and roll down the sides of your face as you cursed and screamed and writhed like a maniac. He barely registered the “fucking get off me!” you hurled at him. 

Just as he was about to loosen his grip, two sets of hands pulled him roughly away, two other people doing the same to you. 

“That’s ENOUGH!” Rick bellowed. Sasha and Maggie rushed to wave off the circle that had surrounded you. 

“The hell’s wrong with you?” Carol scolded, shocked. She tried to tend to you, but you pushed her away. 

Trying to wipe your face of the blood there, you pointed your finger at him. “You’re such a prick!” 

Daryl stayed silent with his signature steely expression, breathing heavily.

“I’m done with your shit! Whatever is fucking bothering you, you better talk, or…or you’re fucking dead to me…” He watched as a lone tear made its way down your cheek. It moved, tracing the underside of your jaw, before trickling off into the depths below. 

One second. Two seconds. Ten seconds passed. 

You sucked in a sharp breath. He thought he saw disappointment in your expression. Rick, Carol, and Glenn were glancing at each other exasperatedly. They dared not move in case you both started up again. 

“Say something for god's sake.” 

Daryl’s expression softened, however, his gaze was as piercing as ever. He wiped his nose and winced in pain as his fingers came back bloodied. He didn’t know where to start. 

You scoffed. You began to walk back towards the prison. 

“I remember tha’ night on tha' farm.” Daryl suddenly declared. Rick glanced over at Daryl with an understanding gaze, and subtly motioned with his head to Carol and Glenn to leave the two of you alone. You however stopped dead in your tracks, your back to him. “I think bout’ it all tha' time.” 

You slowly turned to look at him. He was met with your inquisitive, yet fiery gaze. 

“What’s your fucking problem then?”

Daryl saw so many pictures flash through his mind. He saw his childhood home burning to ashes, his mother inside. He saw his dad and that leather belt buckle shining in the light of the window. He was reminded of Merle, who left him all alone to bear it all on his own back, literally and figuratively. Suddenly, Merle morphed into his older form, and his insults echoed in his mind. Daryl replayed Merle dying and leaving him for good. He replayed you leaving him. 

Daryl’s shoulders sagged a bit. The more he thought about the bad things in his life, the more he was reminded of the good in it. Daryl discovered that in his redemption, Merle had truly loved him. Right now at the prison, he had a found family who cared for him, and would probably die for him. He had you. He was so lucky to have you. He never dared entertain the thought, but you’d probably die for him too. He’s the one who pushed it all away. Daryl didn’t want you to hurt him, and leave him like everyone else did. 

So, to answer your question: he was the problem. 

After a couple of seconds of contemplation, Daryl spoke quietly, but resolutely. 

“Me. Ma’ problem is me.”

“What does that even mean, Daryl? Because I’ve been trying to fix things this whole time, and you keep pushing me away!”

Daryl raised his voice. “We ain't’ ever gon’ be good anyway!”

You observed him for a long moment. You’d had deep conversations with him before. You knew of his past and he knew of yours. You knew he had it rough before the end of the world. But Daryl was a fighter. He kept on, even in hard times. Deep down, he was a shy, compassionate, and in your opinion, mistakenly self-conscious man, the latter of which you attributed to his upbringing. Knowing that you’d gotten so close, just for him to reject everything the two of you went through together made you even more frustrated. 

“So you think everything we’ve been through was for nothing then? The way that we were means nothing to you?” With slightly less fire, you added, “The things we’ve done and what you’ve said to me…you never meant any of it?”  

You could see Daryl struggling to bare himself completely. But when he looked up and into your pleading eyes, you saw the last of his defences crumble away. His next words were almost whispered in the wind. 

“I meant it. And I still mean it.”

“Then why have you been so unfair?”

“‘Cause ya just gon’ end up leavin’ me!” He admitted. Daryl abruptly moved so he was in front of you. In your periphery, you saw him raise his hand, but he moved it back down to his side again, seemingly thinking against whatever he was going to do. 

It was all so real now. Daryl pushed through his combativeness. This time, he did reach a hand up to your face, and ever so tenderly wiped the blood out of your eye from under your brow. You held back a flinch. Daryl caught it. However, he spoke his words so gently you would have never guessed that the two of you were involved in something so violent mere minutes before.

Looking at the damage he’d caused, he felt an overwhelming sense of guilt and shame. It only spurred on his thoughts of the previous night. “I won’ ever deserve ya’ anyways with how I’ve treated ya’. You’ll be better off with Rick or some other guy —”

You shook your head in disagreement.  

“How could you have ever thought that I wanted to be around someone else? Has it not been clear this whole time how much I...like you?”

Daryl began biting his lip anxiously. It was clear to him, but deep down he refused to believe the extent to which you did. 

“I appreciate you so much, Daryl! That’s why this whole thing’s been killing me! To have someone hurt me so much when things were so good…” He felt your head slowly shake against his hand. You inhaled deeply. “I’ve never hit anyone like that before. You just...you made me so fucking angry!” You abruptly grabbed his wrist and shoved his hand away from your face, taking a step back. He saw a hurt flash in your eyes again. “How dare you just insinuate that I’m what? A slut? That I’m sleeping around?” You were pacing now. “What business is it of yours anyway?” You sassed. “You’ve been so dismissive and rude that you shouldn’t even —”

“Goddamnit woman!” Daryl exclaimed. Surprisingly, he managed to stop you in your tracks, your mouth shutting with a clink of your teeth. “I’m scared alrigh’! I’m scared that I’m gon’ mess you up! That I’ll never be good enough fer ya’...I’m…I’m scared that somehow, somethin’s gon’ happen to ya’, or somehow, ya’ gon’ be taken from ma’ life like everyone else...”

For once, you were the one with nothing to say. 

All Daryl wanted to do at that moment was give in to his desire for closeness. His desire for your touch once again. But he was still in the grips of insecurity. “And cause’ I’ve been such an asshole, ya’ve moved on and I don’ blame ya’. A-And seeing ya’ with other people…I ain't ever gonna be worth your time…” 

“Are you seriously telling me that you’re not good enough for me? Daryl, if anything…never in my wildest dreams could I have conjured up a man as good as you in my own life.” 

Etched into his face was still disbelief in your words. How many times did you need to tell him? 

“No matter how much you infuriate me and piss me off,” you started, “No matter how things are between us, I’m never going to leave you. Ever.” 

Daryl’s breath caught in his throat as he listened. He struggled to process the weight of your words. 

“Nah, nah...I don’ think ya’ —”

“I'm fuckin' in love with you Daryl!” You yelled. “Is that blatant enough? Do you get it now?” 

All he could do was look at you. Even all bruised and bloodied, even with your dishevelled hair and stressed demeanour, you were the most beautiful thing to him at that moment. Your eyes began to well up with tears. Your voice broke when you spoke next. 

“So just please tell me if you want this to end, because I can’t do this back and forth anymore —” 

Daryl purposefully strode over to you, and cut you off by grabbing your face, giving your lips a very chaste kiss. It took a couple of seconds for you to realise what was happening. When you did, your body moved into his, and you placed your hands on his sides, slowly snaking them around his back. 

This kiss became more intense. More desperate. So much more emotion and feeling was expressed in this melding of your mouths. You both had been away from each other for so long, that once you touched again, it was like you became addicted. 

“Mmmm…” you moaned against his lips. 

Before it could get too hot and heavy, Daryl breathlessly pulled away. Still cupping your face, he looked directly into your eyes. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that I didn’t sort ma’ shit out. That I caused ya’ so much pain.”

“I’m sorry too…”

“Nah…it’s ma’ fault. And ya’ still stuck around. This whole time...ya stuck around...”

You both caught your breath, staring into each other’s eyes. You missed looking into those circles of blue. You missed this feeling. 

“I love ya’ Y/N. I always will.” 

You ducked your head and placed a delicate kiss on his lips. He chased yours until both of your mouths were granting the other entry. This time, the kiss wasn’t as rough, but it was just as intense, if not even more passionate. All you could hear were the wet sounds of your tongues tasting each other. Your hand moved from his back to his shoulders, feeling the rippling muscle there. 

One of Daryl’s hands moved from your cheek to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss still. His other made its way across your shoulder to your waist, which he gave a loving squeeze. It was like now that you’d come together again, you just couldn’t stop. 

Your little bubble of heated desire was interrupted by the sounds of…squealing? 

Roughly breaking apart from each other, you looked to Daryl who seemingly thought the same thing you did. Still gripping onto each other's bodies, you both turned your heads towards the commotion and immediately flushed with embarrassment. 

Your main family stood not too far away, hollering like idiots. There were a bunch of kids screaming, but excitedly. You were certain that you’d scared them with your brawl earlier. Now they seemed joyous. Most of the people from Woodbury just stood around and stared in shock. 

You looked down shyly and softly pushed Daryl’s body away from yours. “Asshole…” He was back to chewing his thumbnail. Some of the two things you both had in common was your stubbornness and your hate of being the centre of attention. Especially like this. 

“Finally…ain’t that a sight for sore eyes…” Rick mused. 

Carol was still a bit dazed at her two best friends beating each other up. “Leave it to them to sort it out with their fists…”

“They did more than sort it out! ” Beth laughed. 

Daryl removed his thumb from his mouth. “You might wanna get ya’ eye checked out...” he grunted, nodding to the bruising around it. 

“You might want to get your nose set back into place.” You retorted. 

For the first time in a long time, you heard one of your favourite sounds. A deep rumble escaped from Daryl’s chest. His laughter was the most beautiful music to your ears. 

You beamed at him, unable to hide your admiration. 

Today may have been shitty. You may have been bruised, battered and sore. Daryl equally so. But this moment right now wasn’t just good.

It was brilliant.

[chyckles]

What we once were: chapter 1

━ Chapter One of "What we once were"

━ Pairings: daryl dixon x gn!reader

━ Words: 1.3k

━ Warnings: the reader is autistic, the reader is married, SLOW BURN (I mean it, Daryl isn't even in this chapter), my bad English (I'm from Spain)

━ A/N: This is the most self-insert shit I have ever written. From the reader being autistic, to her having hispanic backgrounds. There are, of course, things that doesn't have nothing to do with my life, to begin with I'm not married, but the reader is. Sorry if you can't relate at all with this character, all of this is just me being delulu.

Also, I write this character based on my experiences as an autistic person, I'm not an expert in the matter. Sorry if I make mistakes or make anyone feel uncomfortable, it's not my intention.

I promise it would get better as the story continues, this is just an introduction.

Message me if you want to be added to the tag list. Specify if you want to be added to the series tag list, daryl dixon tag list or all my works tag list.

Oh, and tell me if you prefer short chapters like this one or longer ones.

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You can't say you're a very brave woman. You get scared pretty easily, actually. You're the kind of person who can even get scared of their own shadow. Your husband always found this amusing. You didn't. It always made you embarrassed, always made you feel weak.

But now, even your husband is afraid of the things that are happening in the world. How could he not? Dead things are walking the streets, wanting to have a meal out of the people who haven't been bitten yet. It's a situation that would scare even the bravest of people, so you, of course, are terrified. Even now that you have found a group of people that would have your back, you feel like you would never be safe anymore.

Everything started a few months ago. First, it was just some rumors on the news. Some stories about people coming back to life, you didn't believe it: you have always been a pretty incredulous person, or you see it with your own eyes, or you don't believe it.

Then it all went to shit pretty quick.

Then, you were at your house, eating dinner with your husband, your parents and your in-laws. The next moment, you were getting in the cars, running away from the city of you didn't know what. You were almost hyperventilating, the sudden change of situation making you feel anxious, and the sound of the helicopters and planes making you overstimulated. Your mother, thank God, was there for you the whole time. Holding your hand, saying reassuring words in your ear and making all the bad things go away. You almost felt like a child again.

Sadly, you lost your husband's parents in the traffic.

You four, even so, kept together and strong. Hearing the bombs in the background, destroying your past life and murdering all of the people who couldn't get out of the city; you made your way through the forest, heading to the only place you could think of at that moment: a little camping site not far away. The place where your husband asked for marriage.

You weren't the only people who decided to go there. There was a small group of people. Different people, with different backgrounds, all of them bought together because of the end of the world. They easily let you stay with them. For what you could feel, they were all good people, maybe except a pair of brothers who joined the group a few days after you. The older brother especially, he gave you the creeps, and that was never a good sight.

Despite this and against all odds, your husband adapted pretty quickly to this new life of yours. You didn't.

You are sitting by your tent, one that this kind man of the group, Dale, gave to you. You are hugging your legs against your body, looking at the distance.

"Hey" you hear that voice that you could recognize anywhere.

"Hey" you say, trying to sound normal.

"How is my pretty lady?" your husband asks while sitting next to you.

"I'm not a lady" you smile. He always calls you pretty weird things.

"Oh, but you are" he chuckles, putting his arm around you. You loved physical contact, only when it came from people you trusted, and of course he was the one that you trusted the most. You rest your head on his shoulder, and keep smiling despite everything. "What's on your mind?"

"I miss our home" you confess "I miss waking up to go to work, getting out with my friends and watching movies with you"

He kisses the top of your head.

"I know, honey. But this is our life now" he smiles sadly, and you know he's thinking of his parents. "We have to be strong, at least we have each other"

You nod against his shoulder.

"I just… you know how much I despise changes. I know it's hard for everyone, and I just feel like I'm being a burden, sitting here all day while you all help around here"

"You're not a burden. That you adjust to things a little different than everyone else doesn't make you that" he rubs your shoulder.

"But I'm the only one who's not helping. God, I don't even know the names of most of the people here"

"Why don't you talk with your mother? She's been helping the women with laundry, cooking and all that. Maybe she can find you something to do, that way you won't have to talk to anyone new" You nod again, unsure "They're all good people. Lori, Carol, Sarah… Good women, they won't judge you"

"Because they don't know me yet" you murmur, but he doesn't hear you.

"I'm gonna go help the men cut firewood for tonight, Daryl brought nice meat this morning. Talk to your mom, things will get better soon, you'll see" he kisses the top of your head again, gets up and leaves you alone with your thoughts.

You sigh.

You hate having autism. You know you should not, that you should accept it as part of yourself, that you should love this part of you that makes you different from everyone else. But you can't. Not when having autism makes you run away from things, when having autism makes you isolate yourself, when it makes you hate yourself.

You get up and go search for your mom, with these thoughts still in your mind.

You find her by the river with the rest of the women, doing laundry.

"Mamá" you say in Spanish, approaching her. Your father is Spaniard, so there are a few words that you say in spanish. You're not fluent in the language, though.

"Hey, honey" she says getting up, with a bright smile. She's always so positive.

"Can I help?"

The rest of the women look at you, they haven't seen you except in the nights, by the fireplace, they don't even remember having heard your voice.

"Oh, we're fine. We don't need more hands" she smiles "Why don't you go help Sarah? She was about to go to get some berries, she knows where they are. It is better if we don't go to the forest alone"

You look at her uncomfortable. You don't know Sarah, only have seen her at nights, by the fireplace. But after thinking a moment, you nod. You hate socializing with people you don't know, but you hate even more feeling like a waste of space.

"Sure"

Sarah approaches you with a big smile. She's a pretty woman of your age. Brunette, with blue eyes.

"This way" she says as she starts walking.

"See you later" you say to your mother, and then follow the girl. You walk in silence, until Sarah breaks it.

"I'm Sarah, I don't think we have been presented yet" she smiles "You're Y/N, right?"

"Yeah " you nod awkwardly.

“You’re a shy one, eh?” she chuckles “Don’t worry, I can talk for the two of us”

You smile awkwardly, but don’t say anything because you still feel uncomfortable. You’re used to people like Sarah: extrovert and full of life. You don’t dislike these people, but always feel weird around them.

As you approach the forest, Sarah keeps talking:

“What did you work at before all of this? I was a nurse, always loved helping people”

“I worked in a bookshop” you shrug “Nothing special”

“Oh, but it is. I love reading, you know?”

You look at her with renewed enthusiasm, reading is one of your special interests, you’re always excited when you find someone who likes reading as much as you.

“Really? Not a lot of people read nowadays”

“Yeah, it’s sad, right?” Sarah looks at you “Because it’s such a fun activity”

“Indeed! I have a lot of fun reading. If it’s fiction, you feel like escaping to another reality. If it’s non fiction, you always learn a lot of things. There’s something really special about reading, I wish people could see that”

“What is the last book you read?”

And just like that, bonding over books, you made a new friend.