#daryl fluff

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

"I can't leave ya alone for one minute, can I?" Daryl said, stopping the doorway and looking in at you.

"Who? Me?" you asked, playing dumb. "I don't know what you're talking about!" you laughed. You leaned down and ruffled Dog's thick fur. He was laying across the bottom of the bed, his head resting between his paws, his ears on alert.

"Ya know he ain't allowed on the bed. He's filthy and he stinks," Daryl drawled, coming into the room.

"Sometimes so do you," you teased him. "And I still let you in the bed."

Daryl shot you a look, but couldn't fully suppress his amusement, especially with the grin that was plastered on your face. It was impossible to be sour when you were grinning at him like that. "Dog, get down," he said, his tone demanding. Dog didn't move. "Dog! Off! C'mon!"

The Malinois raised his head, but only blinked at Daryl.

"Sonofa—Dog! I said get down!"

You giggled and leaned forward to pet his soft ears and scratch under his chin. "I don't know what you expected. You're the one who trained him to protect me. He's just doing his job and keeping guard," you cooed, fussing over the good boy.

"Yeah, well he can do his job from the floor," Daryl growled. "C'mon," he said, seizing Dog by the collar and giving him the encouragement he needed to finally get onto the floor with a gentle tug.

Dog whined, but circled a few times and laid down on the rug.

Daryl shook his head, but the corners of his eyes were crinkled in a smile. "He's damn near as stubborn as you," he said, shooting you a look.

You flopped back on your pillow and adjusted the blankets. "I think you're just jealous that you have to share my attention with him," you joked.

"Am I that transparent?" Daryl laughed, climbing into bed beside you. "Damn," he said softly, leaning over you and caging you beneath his body. "Ya figured it out..."

You stared up at him, wide-eyed, your whole body suddenly bursting with tingles. "Well, you've got me all to yourself now..."

Daryl brushed his fingers tenderly through your hair, giving you a heated look. "Damn right."

Prompt: "I can't leave you alone for one minute, can I?"

[sleepyangelkami]

WICKED d.dixon

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 2.1K

DARYL DIXON X FEM!READER

 ☆ SUMMARY - you were sensitive, daryl was hot headed. daryl often carried anger in his voice to protect you, never did you think he'd use it against you.

 ☆ WARNINGS - yelling, argument, sensitive!reader, blood, gore, fighting walkers, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

the prison had fallen, tensions were rising. it was just you and daryl on the roads now, attempting to find your group again. you should have noticed the way he shook his head earlier or the way he sighed loudly and squeezed his eyes shut.

you cursed yourself for not knowing sooner.

daryl dixon was never a man that anyone could say was overly patient. but when it came to you, he’d wait years for you to utter a mere sentence. he was suddenly as patient as they come. but that didn’t change his true nature.

you’d been separated from the group for quite a while now. it was just the two of you on the roads.

at first, you’d been silent as a mouse, wondering if everyone was okay.

soon after, you realised that it was daryl who was also just as silent. you began speaking, in hopes of raising his mood. you assured him, the group had found their way back to them hundreds of times before, this would undoubtedly be no different.

but daryl didn’t so much as glance at you, barely letting out a grunt before turning his head. obviously, your plan in trying to lift his mood only dampened it.

however, you didn’t stop there.

and you should have, you really should have.

perhaps if you’d spent less time talking and waffling on, he wouldn’t be as angry as he was. perhaps if you’d just listened to him and nodded with your head bent, he wouldn’t have snapped.

albeit everything was happening so quickly.

you hadn’t even registered the infected make their way out. it took only moments before your life practically flashed before your eyes.

daryl’s back was against yours, his own knife out as he plunged it into walkers heads. in return, you attempted to do the same, holding the knife at it’s base with shaky hands. but you weren’t strong nor brave like daryl was. when fighting, it was obvious just how different the two of you were, how different you’ve always been. and you couldn’t lie as to say it wasn’t throwing you off your game.

not that you ever really had game.

a walker grabbed at your shoulders causing you to let out a fearful whimper. you used the time you had to plunge the knife into it’s head. your eyes widened as you missed the brain, blood spurted out into your face and onto your clothes. you took the knife out and tried again, this time the walker fell limp at your feet. 

before you could so much as try and attempt to take out another walker, one practically lurched onto you from the side.

daryl felt you hit against his back and cursed you. you were so damn clumsy and usually, he was okay with it. more often than not he’d smile at you, kiss your hurt forehead and tell you that you must begin looking where you’re going but now, he was anything but comforting. if anything, it took everything in him not to spin around and yell at you then and there.

but he didn’t, merely because he was too preoccupied with killing the walker in his hands. he plunged the knife forward, hitting two walkers and piercing straight through their heads. with a separate hand, he shoved the knife into another.

he couldn’t deny the relief that flooded his veins as he took out every last walker on his side.

he rolled his eyes before readying his arms, beginning to spin around and just knowing you’d need help. 

his eyes widened at the sight of you on the ground.

foot pushing up against a walker, you attempted to get it away. while another was crawling on you, you could have let out a whimper, knowing your knife had been tossed away from you.

there were too many.

as if the ‘big man in the sky’ had answered your prayers, you closed your eyes shut at the feeling of blood spurting out onto your face. finally, you peeled them open upon the sound of groaning and gargling coming to a stop. the sight of daryl dixon came into view, he’d taken out every last walker.

and he did not look pleased.

“daryl―” you couldn’t so much as get a word out. before you could even try to defend your cause, he was speaking. 

“are you fuckin’ stupid?!” daryl was an angry man, through and through. he channelled that anger, using it for things like this, taking out walkers or any other said enemy. never, had you been on the receiving end of his bellowing voice. “you ain’ gonna fucking make it out here if you need me watching your back every other second!” 

you could feel your eyes sting, pathetically.

you didn’t want to cry nor did you want to let daryl see you cry, not like this. he’d wiped your tears a thousand times over, even if it was because someone was yelling at you. you’d claim that it’s no big deal, that you were being dramatic and he’d always swoop in, telling you that it’s not dramatic and nobody should yell at a ‘flower like you’. you wondered what changed. “i was trying.” you uttered out pathetically once more, voice all broken.

“wasn’t tryin’ enough!” his hand roughly grabbed yours, practically hoisting you up from the ground. you let out the smallest of whimpers. not because it hurt but because you’d never seen him this angry at you. “are you hurt?” but his voice was anything but caring. it seemed as though you were just another burden to him.

instead of replying, you merely shook your head, it was bent down so he couldn’t see your watery eyes.

but he took it as a well enough response, because he cleared his throat, pocketing his knife. “we have to keep moving.” you wondered if he’d fallen guilty after his words spat you in the face, you guessed he did because for the duration of the walk, he kept glancing back at you, as if to see if you were still so upset.

and you were.

perhaps it really was a silly thing to be upset about. but daryl knew how much you hated yelling. he was well aware of all the baggage it came from, the flashbacks it may have caused. he knew you better than anyone, he’d been the one to wipe your tears from the same thing many times ago. 

deep down you knew he was only yelling because the emotions were high. he was worried about the kids of the prison, everyone else. he was worried about rick and carl, carol and judith, everyone there was to worry about, he was doing the worrying. he got in his head like that a lot.

but that didn’t change the fact that he’d yelled at you so easily, as if he’d been dying to all day. 

and could you so much as blame him anymore? you had been talking his ear off. no doubt, because you thought you were doing the right thing but you tried to put yourself in his shoes. you’d get annoyed too, right? 

the difference between you both?

you never would have so much as dreamed about talking to him the way he spoke to you. 

“there’s a cabin around here, we’ll hole up for the night.” he received no response, so he turned his head. “y’ listening?” 

once again, you didn’t speak, merely nodding. he sighed before turning his head and squeezing his eyes shut. he didn’t apologise, stubborn to the end. he didn’t often apologise to you, probably because he never found himself in a position where he had to but you were the complete opposite, always apologising profoundly for everything you did, even if it hadn’t been your fault.

you wondered if he wasn’t apologising because he wasn’t actually sorry.

he used his hand to beat down on the door, waiting to hear groans and gurgles. when he didn’t, he opened the door, peering inside. it was safe.

he let you go, watching as you practically scurried inside, ready to get away from the horrid outside world. maybe you were ready to get away from him. he found guilt eating at his insides, like a walker biting into flesh. the thought of you being angry with him was worse than the thought of getting bit right about now.

but he knew you, knew you more than anyone. and he knew you weren’t angry with him, you were merely upset.

stubborn as he was, he needed to make it better for he shouldn’t have yelled at you, as annoyed as he was.

after lighting a fire, he made his way towards the kitchen, where he somehow knew you’d be. as if he could sense your presence and everywhere it loomed. he could have spotted the back of your head from a mile away. there you were, stood in the kitchen in front of the sink, you must have been checking if they had running water. surprise, surprise, they didn’t. 

he leaned his body against the door frame, head gently landing on it as he watched you. you were yet to notice his presence, your hands scrubbing dryly at the other. there was blood coating all over your hands, not your own, walker blood. you needed it off and you needed it off now.

daryl knew how you got, always fussing over getting dirty as it was but when it came to walkers, you didn’t want any of it on you. it was always a challenge when the group was willingly putting walker guts all over their coats to disguise themselves.

he’d had enough of watching you, opting to walk inside the room. “c’mere, angel.” you heard his words, freezing up and he could only feel guilt eat at his bones. he carried a cloth, slightly damp. you allowed him to take your hands in his own, cloth gently working against the dirtied skin. “y’alright?” you didn’t respond, nodding.

you hadn’t so much as opened his mouth since he’d yelled at you. 

“baby…” and then he heard it, the mere sniffle that had you turning your head. 

“‘m okay.” voice cracking showing that you were not, in fact, okay. 

he could only frown at you. he felt you try to move away but his hands kept you still, grasping your own and keeping you in place. he waited in silence until you were ready to look up at him. when you did, he almost wished you’d hadn’t. your eyes were red rimmed and watery. you’d been crying. no longer was there that judgemental piece in his eyes. instead, you could only catch the guilt swarming in them.

“‘m sorry.” was the words that you practically clung to, that left his mouth. “‘m so sorry, baby, c’mere.” you felt his arms wrap you up.

you were too upset to argue.

so instead, you allowed him to take you into an embrace, hell you threw your arms around his neck to hold him impossibly closer. there was that gentle feeling again, the one you’d longed for so much. but you couldn’t have asked, no. how could you ask for comfort from the same person that’d hurt you in the first place?

thankfully, daryl made most of your decisions for you.

“‘m sorry.” you croaked out. “i wasn’t looking and then the walker just came out of nowhere and i swear i tried―”

daryl was quick to cut you off.

your head was held in his own dirty hands. though you hated the dirt on yourself, there was almost a comforting feeling to the dirt on him. perhaps it was the familiarity. “you ain’ got nothin’ to be sorry for, alright? nobody should yell at you, ‘specially not me.” 

you didn’t know whether to agree or not.

“you did what you could ‘n i’m proud of you, y’know that?” you felt your eyes begin to get watery again, god you wished you could stop crying. as if he could read your mind, he spoke, “‘n it’s okay to cry, i was bein’ an asshole.” 

you sniffled before giggling slightly. “you were.” 

he couldn’t help the way his lips turned up at the sound he’d missed so dearly. “yeah, i was, wasn’t i? ‘m just… worried, y’know? for everyone. not everyone has a flower like you in their group.” 

you shook your head with a sniffle, ignoring his words directed to you. “they’re gonna be fine, we’ll find ‘em.”

“yeah, we will.” he nodded, as if whatever came from your mouth, he could suddenly believe. you had that effect on him that he’d never tell. “but right now, i jus’ care about you, alright? c’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.”

and how could you deny hands once so angry, now so gentle?

main masterlist/daryl's masterlist

[catnteawrites]

Y/N: "I made you a flower crown!"

Daryl: "Do I look like a little girl to you?"

Y/N: "Okay, sorry." *tries to take it back*

Daryl: "Don't touch my flower crown."

[emeline2020]

Somethin’ Stupid - D.DIXON

DESC : After a few too many drinks at a get-together in Alexandria, Daryl finds you slightly drunk outside of the Grimes house.

CONTAINS : fluff, romance, love confession (kinda???), alcohol and drunk reader

SEASON 9

You rubbed your thumbs against the cool glass, feeling the indents and patterns made onto the bottle. Not much liquid was left at this point, and this was around your third bottle.

It was a warm night, a full moon and a sky of stars beamed down on you as you sat on the porch, the little wooden bench a bit uncomfortable.

You were outside the Grimes House, taking a break from the now dying-down party Rick had thrown. Just about everyone was in attendance, and just about everyone was drunk out of their minds, and they began to stumble back to their own homes in Alexandria.

You laughed, watching Rosita wobble with an arm over Gabriel’s shoulder as they walked down the dark gravel paths of Alexandria. The two of them were all laughing and smiling.

The bright lights from inside the house through the windows were the only things providing illumination on your surroundings.

You could hear Michonne’s familiar laugh from inside, the sound of bottles being gathered for disposal. Then, the door creaked open.

You looked up, the added light coming from the door making the buzz in your mind a bit more painful. You scrunched your eyes and nose, staring at the figure exiting the Grimes Home.

It was Daryl, with his long shaggy hair and angel vest. Your lips quickly curved at the sight of the man. His steps were more even and firm than most, clearly not as intoxicated as the vast majority including yourself.

“Hi.” You smiled, still clutching the beer in your two hands.

“Hey. Wha’cha out here for?” He asked, the sounds of a plastic water bottle crumbling in his hand as he made his way over to you, taking a seat next to you on the wooden bench.

“Too bright in there. It’s giving me a migraine.” You explain, bringing the brown bottle to your lips. He reaches for your right hand, holding it in his as he carefully and slowly pryed the bottle from your hand. Clearly trying to avoid riling you up.

He moved the brown bottle next to him on the ground, and unscrewed the cap off of the plastic water bottle and placed it in your hand, “Ain’t too bright. Ya just drank too much.”

You would’ve argued for the beer back, but it seemed like too much work. You made a grumbling noise, taking a sip of water. Daryl chuckled softly, rubbing a hand on his stubble and watching you.

“Are you a moon guy?” You asked suddenly, leaning back on the bench and staring into the dark night sky. Daryl raised and eyebrow, but mocked your position, leaning his head back to see what you were seeing.

“Huh?”

“Are you a moon guy? Or a sun guy? You seem more like an asteroid guy if I’m being honest.” You stated calmly, clutching the plastic bottle.

He turned to glance at you. You were still staring up at the sky, so he turned back to the sky, “Dunno. Sounds like somethin’ stupid.”

You furrowed your eyes, sending him a glare, but quickly turning your head back to the sky.

“What are you?” He asked, genuine curiosity in his voice.

“No clue. I can never decide.” You sigh, your eyes moving from star to star.

Daryl paused, turning his head to the left, still at a horizontal angle the same way yours was. He just watched you for a few seconds.

“Stars.” He said, his gruff voice gentle and soft sounding.

Your eyes widened a bit, you turned to face him, but now he was staring at the sky, “You think I’m stars?”

“Mhm.”

You raised an eyebrow in thought but made a humming noise, seemingly accepting his answer.

“Okay then. We can be binary stars.” You shrug, a happy tone in your voice.

Daryl sits up, giving you a weird look with a raised eyebrow, “I ain’t gay.”

You sit up, and can’t help but scoff a laugh, “Not what that means, hun.” You take another sip of water, staring at the specs of light just above the gate to Alexandria. Daryl follows your gaze, staring at the same stars as you.

“Wha’s it mean, then?” He sounded confused, reaching an arm around you. He carefully avoided making contact with you, but he still held his arm over the back of the chair, hoping maybe you would lean back onto his arm.

“Binary stars are stars that spin around each other. They get so close, that they appear as one sometimes.” You smile widely, staring into the black above you.

Daryl just watched you.

“An’ you think tha’s us? Two stars tha’ circle each other?

You turned to meet his eyes, drunk confidence flowing through you.

“Yeah.”

And that moment, the moment you nodded your head with such faith in what you said is when Daryl Dixon knew he was in love with you.

He watched you for a few seconds, before turning and shaking his head.

“Tha’s somethin’ stupid if I’ve ever heard it.” He mumbled, rubbing his right hand over his eyes and face. He was worried that if he didn’t spit out some sort of judgement or insult, he would say something even stupider.

Something stupid like him admitting just how in love he was.

[mrdixon]

love to keep me warm

pairing: established daryl x f!reader

wc: 1.3k

warnings: none!

summary: you replace daryl’s coffee with hot chocolate

A/N: first holiday fic is a soft one sorry smut lovers…. stay tuned for christmas. i wanna cuddle him and give him kisses.

masterlist

It was so white outside from the snow, and so cold. Luckily Daryl was bringing in some wood for the fireplace, but that didn’t stop you from putting on your fluffy socks and huge sweater. Humming to yourself as you slid around in the kitchen making a hot chocolate for yourself.

The front door opened and Daryl dropped some logs onto the floor by the door, he grumbled and shut the door while shrugging off his poncho.

“’s fuckin’ cold out there,” he muttered, shaking his head before walking over to you. “Ya look comfy,” he glanced you up and down. You chuckled and took a sip of your hot chocolate and nodded.

“I am,” you beamed and handed your mug over to him. He furrowed his brows, taking a sip and giving it back to you.

“Too sweet, ya like yer coffee like tha’? ‘s pure sugar,” he drawled to which you laughed and shook your head.

“It’s not coffee, it’s hot chocolate.” You put the mug down and watched as he walked back over to the logs.

“Tha’ explains it,” he mumbled under his breath and picked a few logs up to take them over to the fire place, “can ya make me a coffee?”

You rolled your eyes as he went to start a fire, grabbing a mug and boiling some water. You walked over to the cabinet to get the instant coffee, but your hand accidentally grabbed the hot chocolate. You grinned to yourself as you discreetly poured the contents into his mug, pouring the boiled water into the cup before stirring it together.

You brought both mugs into the living room, placing his on the coffee table and sitting on the couch with yours in hand. He turned and smiled slightly as you settled on the couch. He grabbed a blanket and draped it over your legs before grabbing his mug and sitting next to you, kissing your forehead.

“Thanks,” he hummed and took a sip before pulling the mug away, dumbfounded. “Wha’ the fuck did ya do to my coffee?” You laughed, placing a hand on his knee whilst taking a sip from your own mug.

“I made you hot chocolate instead,” you raised your brows playfully. He frowned, sulking into the couch as he took another sip.

“I wanted coffee,” he grumbled. You chuckled softly and reached over to run your fingers through his hair, leaning forward to place a soft kiss along his hairline.

“And I want you to fall asleep. You’ve worked a lot today with all the snow outside, caffeine keeps you awake.” You murmured, rubbing his cheek with your thumb.

“Yeah, tha’s the point.” He grunted, still taking small sips from his mug. “This shit’s too sweet.”

“Can’t hurt to have sugar once in a while,” you hummed, leaning back against the couch and listening to the crackle of the wood burning in front of you.

“If I wanted somethin’ sweet I’d have you,” he mumbled which earned a gentle nudge from you as you placed your mug down.

“Stop complaining and drink it,” you heard a small grumble of annoyance from him, but he kept drinking it. You sighed, leaning on his shoulder as you both sat in silence, enjoying the warmth. You could hear him sip his hot chocolate occasionally, his arm wrapping around you. You hummed happily as his thumb rubbed at your waist, slipping his hand under your sweater and you flinched back at the cold. “Your hands are cold!” You giggled.

He rolled his eyes chuckling and placed his mug down on the coffee table before pushing you down on the couch, his cold fingers tickling your warm skin under your sweater. You laughed, trying to push him away but his body weight held you down. He pressed his palms flat against the sides of your body, you squealed as the cold sent shivers down your spine.

“Daryl!!” You laughed, trying to kick at his stomach. He grunted and pushed your legs apart, placing his hands on your hips and moving down. You narrowed your eyes and tugged his hair. He looked up at you and rolled his eyes.

“’m not doin’ tha’ righ’ now,” he grumbled and lay between your legs, his head resting on your chest. “’m sleepy, yer plan worked.”

You chuckled, relaxing as his weight settled over you, your fingers moving to caress his head gently. He huffed and nuzzled against your chest, his big arms wrapping around your waist. You reaches down and pulled the blanket over the both of you, his head tilting upward to look at you. He rested his chin on your chest and his bottom lip jut out a little. You smiled, cupping his cheek with one hand while the other rest on the back of his head.

“Go take a nap, I’ll be right here when you wake up.” You grinned, rubbing the skin underneath his eyes. “You're heavy anyway.”

He snorted, squeezing you tight and burying his face into the crook of your neck, leaving a trail of kisses that went up to your chin. “I love ya,” he whispered and placed a sweet kiss on your lips before returning to his previous position. You hummed softly, combing your fingers through his hair while he closed his eyes. His cheek was pressed against your chest and you leaned over to press your lips against his temple, holding your lips there while your free hand rubbed his back.

“I love you too,” you whispered, leaning back against the armrest of the couch. While it appeared he was sleeping, his thumb rubbed just under your ribcage in acknowledgement. The wood crackled in the fireplace, the smell of it filling your nose with comfort, feeling especially warm and cozy with your boyfriend’s weight on you. You wanted your hot chocolate but with his weight on you, it’d be a difficult stretch, but you tried anyway. You grunted, outstretching your arm towards the coffee table, your fingers so close…

A longer arm joined yours, reaching out to grab your mug and place it in your hands. Your head craned to see Daryl, his eyes still closed, handing your mug to you. “Now stop movin’.” You chuckled, ruffling his hair slightly with your other hand before moving up a bit to take a sip of the warm liquid. His arm returned at your left side, both hands now squeezing your waist to keep you in place. You giggled slightly at the feeling, finishing the rest of your hot chocolate.

“Okay wait, I need to put this back on the table.” You grinned.

“Don’ ya dare,” he muttered and grabbed the mug from you, placing it on the table before dragging you under him so you two could cuddle. You breathed out softly, lightly dragging your nails up and down the sides of his face. He practically melted and put his entire body weight on you, not that you mind. You felt a kiss on your collarbone, chuckling.

“You don’t wanna finish your hot chocolate?” You teased, grooming his hair back. His face scrunched up in annoyance but he didn’t stop you, just continued to press kisses along your collarbones.

“I already did,” he mumbled to your surprise. You said nothing else and just continued to run your fingers through his hair absentmindedly, not even flinching when his hands crept underneath your sweater again. “Yer not cold anymore?”

You glanced down at him, his eyes closed and his face tinted pink from the warmth, and probably from you. His hands mimicked yours in his hair, his hands dragging up and down your sides lightly, the feeling slightly tickly. “Mmh, no. Got my love to keep me warm.” Your eyes fluttered closed as he leaned up to press a long, sweet kiss against your lips. Keeping them closed even as he pulled away. His head went back to your chest, and you could feel him nod against your skin. Silence washed over you both as drowsiness took over, the both of you slowly drifting off to sleep as you lay under the blanket by the fire.

[scudslut]

A Summer Wasting

daryl x fem!reader

wordcount: 0.8k

warnings: nothing, just pure fluff 🫶🏻

The falling sun felt warm against your skin as you walk through the prison courtyard. You’ve always enjoyed the Georgian sunsets growing up; after a long day of brutal heat, the world gave a soft reprieve, illuminating the sky in its vast colours for anybody to enjoy, pessimist or not.

These days it was hard not to be… with death looming around each corner, the scent constantly coating the air that you’d honestly forgotten a time it hadn’t.

You found yourself searching for things. Things you could mindlessly enjoy, to bring small happinesses into this dull life. You took note of the sky as you walked, sunsets.

You continued, closing your eyes momentarily as you walked, trying to immerse yourself in that warm light fully. Right now you were looking for a mirror of sorts, figuring one of the car windows would serve you best in your task. Spotting the rusted Jeep closest, you head towards it climbing onto the hood.

You had just finished showering and remembered how much you loved braiding your hair as a kid, finding the simple task so peaceful whether you knew it back then or not. You remembered how happy you’d be waking up the next morning, taking them out to let the soft waves cascade down your shoulders. Braids, you had noted.

Situating yourself, you take in your reflection in the windshield and begin parting your hair in two sections to make twin French braids. The dirt-covered window didn’t offer much but it was enough.

Humming quietly under your breath, you start the process, folding each strand over and under and over again, listening to the crickets as they began their nightly melodies. You’re so invested in your movements, that you almost miss the sounds of footsteps on gravel approaching you.

“What are ya doin’ on there,” Daryl grunts, confusion and slight annoyance mixed within his tone.

“My hair,” you answer curtly with a small smile, you thought it was quite obvious.

He eyed you momentarily, seemingly still lost as to why you could be seated on the beloved Jeep. “Fer what?”

You finally turn to him, your hands holding your spot in the braid to not lose it, “Because I wanted to, and they look real pretty in the morning when I take them out,” you answer, turning back to your reflection, finishing the first braid.

“Ain’t gotta doll yerself up for the walkers y’know, they’ll eat ya just fine,” he quips causing you to huff, now in your own annoyance.

“It’s not for anybody but me, Daryl. It makes me happy, which isn’t something you come across easily these days,” You sigh.

Silence falls between the both of you, the crickets becoming even louder. You feel the vehicle dip beneath you and quickly snap your head around. You watch as Daryl plops himself up on the hood behind you, arms crossed over his knees, staring at you intently.

“What are you doing?” you ask bewildered. It wasn’t unusual for the two of you to spend time together, it was just that typically you were the one to initiate any of it, following him around like a lost puppy the majority of the time.

“Wanna watch ya,” He simply replies, motioning for you to continue.

The next day you had spent in the gardens, tending to the small amount of crop your group had managed to accumulate since you took the prison. The sun once again was ruthless in its heat, beating down like drums and causing your wavy hair to stick to your neck.

You stood up from the soft dirt, dusting off your legs when you felt a presence sauntering up beside you. Lifting your head your eyes meet the familiar blue ones you had been gazing into just last night.

“Hey, Daryl,” you smile, receiving a small nod in return. He seemed to be contemplating something, unsure where to look as he chewed on his bottom lip. “Something I can do for you?”

He quickly shakes his head, ears already pink in embarrassment, “Nah, I- uh… I jus-,” he fumbles, “Ya look nice is all.”

The grin that overtakes your features is unavoidable, your heart swelling at his sweet compliment. You of course felt disgusting, sweaty, and mud-drenched from working all day, but the happiness that washed over you was unmistakable.

“Ya think?” you giggle, referencing to your dirty skin, “Good enough for the walkers?”

It’s small, but you catch it — the shy smile he hides as he bows his head in affirmation, “Oh ya, gonna start callin' you walker bait now,” he teases back and you can’t help the fit of giggles you break out into.

You share a few other words before he heads off toward the watch towers for his afternoon shift. You stare at his leather wings as his figure retreats in the distance, a fuzzy glow filling your senses.

Daryl, you note.

[myhappylittlesideblog]

Breathe It In

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: Daryl takes you out on his bike for the first time.

A/N: Hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading!

“Y’ever rode one before?” Daryl asked. 

You shook your head, attention running over the hot, glinting chrome and black metal. Every inch of the motorcycle was covered in dust but you knew it was an impressive piece of machinery, especially in Daryl’s eyes. And it was big. Longer and taller than you ever really noticed, now that you were the one about to climb on top of it. 

“No,” you said to Daryl. “Never even seen one up close before you got this.” 

“Ya don’ haf’ta come with me. Once we git another car, we can-“

“No, it’s fine. I’ve done scarier, right?” you said, thinking just of the past week and all you’d faced. 

He gave a curt nod. Then he swung his leg over the motorcycle, the toe of his big boot finding the kickstarter immediately. His jeans hugged his body as he hiked his knee up unnaturally high before putting all his weight on the lever, slamming his leg down and starting the bike on the first try. He twisted one of the handles as the engine revved to life as he settled in the seat. 

He looked at you, gaze cutting over his bare arm, thick with muscle. “I’ll hold it steady. Foot rests are there,” he said, pointing low on the bike to the small pegs you would use. “That’s the engine-“

“That’s the engine? The whole thing is just… right there?” 

“Where else would it be?”

You shot him a glare. “I don’t know. Enclosed somewhere maybe.”

He huffed a laugh. It made his hair fall in his face, but you could see his blue eyes studying you as he continued his explanation. 

“The exhaust pipes are down there too- careful a’ those. They get hot.” 

“Okay, so butt goes there,” you said pointing, “feet go there and don’t touch anything else.”

“‘Cept me.”

You straightened, shooting your attention back to him. “Hm?”

“Gotta hold onta somethin’. Come on, let’s go.”

You wondered if you had flushed as red as he did at his words. He was looking at his fingers wrapped around the handlebars, knuckles turning white, but you saw the pink wave crawling up his neck from his vest and landing around his ears. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m comin’,” you said, sidling up to the bike. You tried to sound teasing, but you just sounded nervous. And it wasn’t just the heavy machinery making adrenaline rush through you.

He held his hand out flat for you to grab and support yourself as you flung your leg over the side of the bike. The moment your bottom landed on the back of the seat, you felt Daryl’s wide hand around your calf, moving one of your feet into place on the pegs. It was only then you realized there were only two foot pedestals for four feet. You’d have to share. 

Once he’d moved you into place, he tapped your knee, signaling you to stay put. A cold rush of air kissed the spot his hand had just kept warm. 

Your legs pressed against the back of his body as you sat behind him, your feet on the outside of the pegs, while his thick boots stuck to the inside. Nearest to the hot exhaust pipes, you noticed. He was keeping you away from them. 

“Good?” he asked. 

“Yeah, I’m good.”

The motorcycle growled loudly at the will of his hand. Just a twist of his wrist and the bike was primed to speed off. 

He turned his head, not quite looking at you, though even then you could see his smirk. “Better hold on,” he said. 

You took the back of his jacket in your hands, balling up the leather around his hips into your fingers. “Kay,” you said, bracing yourself a bit. 

His foot rocked and his fingers squeezed, releasing the clutch and picking the gear. He twisted the handlebars, revving the engine and making the bike shake under you. To you, it was just a lot of noise and practically unnoticeable movement. To someone with motorcycling experience, it was a warning of oncoming power and swiftness. But you had no idea.

Without warning, the bike jolted forward and sped off so quickly it almost left you alone in the dirt, your grip slipping from Daryl’s jacket. 

Before you could fall off though, you hugged close to Daryl, palms open and sprawled over his chest and belly in panic. After the initial shock, however, the bike was a smooth ride as it kicked up dry Georgia dust behind its tires. That’s when you realized Daryl’s shaking and trembling wasn’t from the rattling of the bike, but from his chuckles. 

You heard his laugh even over the buzzing bike and rushing wind. It was a rare sound. Low, but free, like the rumble of an engine on a long, twisting summer road. In half mock, half true indignation, you lowered your hands to rest around his waist, meeting in the middle around his belt. Leaning up to his ear, you called to him. 

“You’re a real dick sometimes, Dixon!”

“Told’ya ta hold on,” he answered, giving your clasped hands a pat. 

“No kidding.”

He shook again. Though this time you couldn’t hear the soft chuckles that emanated from him, you knew they were there. You felt it. Just like you felt the affection radiating from him as he twisted his fingers in yours until they were interlinked. 

Before the outbreak, you never would have ridden a motorcycle. They were too dangerous. In fact, the thought of even looking at a contraption like this one, something Daryl had practically made with his own hands, without a safety helmet would never have crossed your mind. 

These days, things were different. Every day was a threat. But this, being with Daryl and sharing his pride and joy felt like the safest thing you could ever do. He was holding your hand and your arms circled him tight as you rode safely past anything questionable. 

You laid your head on the back of his shoulder and breathed it in- the freedom, the safety, the gas smell on his jacket and the smoke in his hair and you closed your eyes. And you felt his hand squeeze yours as if he was doing the exact same.

[celtic-crossbow]

Those Summer Nights, When I Look in Your Eyes

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Commonwealth (No France) Warnings: Sexual Situations; Vague Smut

Summary: Daryl's childhood had lacked so much and at the beginning of the turn, he had never known love beyond Merle's version of it. Now, he had it all and he would never let them wonder how much he cherished them.

A/N: For @louifaith, I hope this is close to what you imagined for our archer. 🩵 - Also, I have Daryl calling reader "pip" because someone suggested him nicknaming her "pipsqueak" in another story and it has just stuck with me. I was as vague as possible about reader’s age but let me be clear - she is above 18. I don’t write for huge age gaps. I don’t judge those that do and I do read them. I just do not write them but I have no control over where your mind takes you. Anyway, the song he hums is attached. ;)

Life was good. 

For thirteen years, there had never been a point in time where Daryl had felt like he could say that and genuinely believe it. For an entire year, the Commonwealth had thrived. Not a single threat. The walls held. The governing unit was fair and compassionate. It really was like the old world. 

But not for Daryl. 

In the old world, he had been a drifter. A useless drifter walking in the shadow of his brother. No job, no friends, no purpose. And he had, at that time, liked it that way. 

Not anymore. 

Because now he had a job. He had friends. He had a family. He had a purpose. And he had everything he had lacked growing up. He had love, and not just Merle’s variation of it.

Carol had taken over Lance’s position when Ezekiel and Mercer had stepped up to govern. She had pulled Daryl aside and asked him if he wanted to stay in their reformed force, giving him the choice. His decision was to promptly decline. So they put their heads together to come up with something. 

Daryl possessed many skills, most of them learned by doing throughout the years. He had one condition that he would not negotiate on, however. 

Daryl’s time outside the walls was over. 

He agreed to train hunters to take his place and conceded to three weeks on the road with volunteers that he left up to Carol’s choosing. There was more than enough trust between them for him to be comfortable with who she would deem worthy to provide for the community. 

Then he was given the job of overseeing construction and structural upkeep, equipment maintenance, and of course, a seat in the governmental advisory council. He was nothing if not adaptable and took to his position quickly, finding that he liked it. He was respected and his suggestions for the good of the community were heard and considered. 

If he chose to hunt or ride, it would be for leisure but he’d hardly needed it in the past year. Domestic life had tamed the inner need to hide or escape that had been ingrained throughout the years even before the turn. 

Years ago, you had tumbled into his life. A hot mess that he had spent many a day battling the urge to absolutely throttle. You had a stubborn streak a mile wide that made his own nothing more than a small trail. He absolutely couldn’t stand you. 

Funny thing, time. 

Now you wore his ring and proudly carried his last name. You had wanted the ceremony, even if his proposal was lackluster. He had been seeking you out after the end of the Whisperers. 

“Where’s Y/N?” At first no one answered. He barely parted his lips, intent on asking again with a little more well placed ardor when a woman he recognized as a former Hilltop resident spoke up.  “I saw your wife! She’s over with the children!” He muttered his thanks and took a single step before you were finding him.  “Daryl!” Your body collided with his, knocking the air from his lungs. His heartbeat lowered regardless, feeling you there in his arms, alive and breathing and whole. “I couldn’t see you in the herd. I was about to come find you but Jude, she made me promise to stay.” “M’here. An’ they’re gone” He tightened his arms around you and rested his cheek on the crown of your head.  “So I’m your wife now, huh?” He felt the shift of your facial muscles against his chest, knew you were smiling.  “What of it?” He grunted. “Ya wanna be?” He felt his heart skip a few beats when you lifted your head to smile at him, beaming and beautiful.  “Of course, I do. Might as well be at this point. We sound like an old married couple.” Daryl snorted and then shrugged. “Then I guess we are.” “That simple?” “That simple.” When you grinned, he knew you would never let it be that simple. 

You got your wedding, simple and intimate, with only the few remaining people that were closest to the two of you. When Gabriel said the words, you got your ring, too. Oh, the hell and herds Daryl had gone through to get them. Matching bands, camelot black titanium. Crafted to withstand the way the world was. 

He was twisting the ring round and round as he walked home, tired from a full day’s work and more than ready for the weekend with his family: you, Jude, RJ, and his little River. His boy was nearly two years old, the spitting image of Daryl with a heaping dose of your attitude. 

You were younger than Daryl, still at an age where pregnancy and giving birth was not considered risky beyond the state the world was in and the lack of some resources. It was horrifying yet the best news he’d ever heard in his self-proclaimed useless life.

River Merle came along right in the midst of the unease in the Commonwealth. When they had taken you and River along with Jude and RJ, it had required all the power Carol possessed to stop Daryl from losing his goddamn mind. He was prepared to rip out entrails with his bare hands and use them to strangle each and every trooper that stood between him and his wife and kids. It was not a good time to support Pamela. 

It all worked out in the end when, bruised but alive, the people took back the Commonwealth.

And now, here he was. A husband. A father. A boss. A survivor. 

Life. Was. Good.

“Ya home, Pip?” The words habitually rolled off his tongue the moment he opened the door and stepped inside. Jude and RJ were watching a movie, the elder looking over with a hey, Uncle Daryl before turning right back to the television. It was the weekend. No reason to bug them about homework. 

“Where else would we be?” You called from the kitchen. Daryl unlaced his boots, was in the middle of pulling off the second one when you came out with River on your hip. “Someone’s cranky today.” 

“I ain’t cranky.”

“I’m not talking about you but assuming I was says a lot.” You smiled softly, passing off the baby while simultaneously stealing a kiss. “Hi.” 

“Hey.” He nearly melted, probably would have if you weren’t situating a small human right against his chest.

“Get a room.” Judith was rolling her eyes when Daryl shot her a harmless look. 

River’s little arms went straight around his father’s neck, his little hiccups and sniffles muffled against Dary’s shirt. “S’wrong, lil’ man. Mama houndin’ ya over veggies like she does me an’ RJ?” River pulled back, rubbing his left eye with a chubby fist, looking at Daryl with a scowl that he knew very well adorned his own face more often than not. Even being so content with his life, he couldn’t seem to rid himself of what you called his resting bitch face.

“Daddy.” Was all the boy said before burying his face back into Daryl’s shirt.

“He had a nap?” Daryl was jostling his son as little as possible while ridding himself of his precious vest, tossing it over the back of ‘his’ chair at the dining table. His large hand covered a wide expanse of the small boy’s back when he rubbed soothing little circles, following you into the kitchen. You shook your head and took the lid off the pot on the stove. The scent of meat and herbs wafted toward Daryl and his mouth watered, but first thing was first.

“He wouldn’t go down. I think it’s a daddy day.” You smiled at the sauce but it wasn’t meant for the pasta topping at all. Daddy days were Daryl’s favorite. River wanted absolutely no one but him. The baby would fuss during meals, refuse to nap, and absolutely forget about bath and bedtime unless Daryl was there.

“I got ‘im then. See if I can get ‘im down for a bit.” Daryl was ducking and angling his head to catch River’s attention, finally earning a shy smile when blue met blue and the archer scrunched his nose and stuck out his tongue. Pressing a kiss into the mess of wavy hair, he noticed you standing with your back against the countertop, a certain type of smile on your face.

“What?”

“Nothing. You’re just sexy.”

“Pfft, stop.”

“We are so playing chess tonight.”

Daryl arched a brow. “Yeah?” 

You nodded, your smile morphing into something else entirely; something sinful. “Oh, yeah.”

Dinner done, older kids in their rooms after teeth brushing and goodnight hugs, Daryl sat in the nursery with a sleepy River resting his head on his father’s shoulder while the chair gently rocked. The baby’s hair was only the least bit damp but he smelled of the lavender lotion that you always seemed to have near the changing table, instructing Daryl to use it after baths and before bed because it was calming.

Bathed and in a fresh diaper and pajamas, mini-Daryl was beginning to drift off while his father simply rubbed his back or kissed his cheek or even held a little hand just to count the fingers over and over. Soon enough there would be potty training and pre-school—Carol had said that was still a thing in the world now and yes, they had one in the Commonwealth—so for now, Daryl just wanted to soak it all up, take it all in.

River would likely be the only baby the two of you would have, so not a single second was being wasted or taken for granted. You kept a daily journal of simple things that some might find trivial but Daryl knew he’d be reading that journal often enough to wear the ink right off the pages. Sometimes, he missed things because of work, but in the end, that’s what happened when you were a parent, he supposed. His old man didn’t care about milestones or daddy days, and his mama wasn’t around for bath time or boo-boo kisses. River would have it all. And as long as they were his to care for, so would Judith and RJ. In fact, since the baby had Daryl, you were currently reading a story to Rick and Michonne’s son before bed.

Man, if Rick could see Daryl now. Would his brother even recognize him? God, would his brother even recognize him? He let his mind drift for a moment to Rick and Merle, just long enough to keep them close and then he was back to River, pressing a kiss to a chubby cheek. 

You would always rock and sing to the little one but he didn’t need that from Daryl. There was just something about their bond that didn’t require words and hardly even movement. It had been that way since the moment you had pushed him into the world. He had cried, red-faced and angry and cold while Tomi leaned to put him onto your chest. You had your time with him, cuddling and nursing, his little sounds still expressing his discontentment with the change from your warm womb to a loud, bright world.

They had Daryl take off his shirt, which he didn’t understand until you explained better than any doctor or nurse could. The moment River was pressed against his skin, the connection was apparent to anyone who saw. The baby went silent, wide eyes mirroring the ones Daryl himself had. He had felt guilty for the longest time that River wanted you to feed him and then he wanted his daddy back immediately. He still had his mommy days and you said that was enough.

You were always supportive, never angry or jealous. You’d share the moments with him while he enjoyed them with you. 

It was all what he’d never had, so he’d make sure River, Judith, and RJ never went without it.

His eyes were slow to open, squinting at the traitorous window that dared let the morning rays creep across the bed and to his pillow. It took a few sluggish blinks to remember what day it was and that he was free to go back to sleep until River required either you or him. With a deep breath, he stretched his arms above his head and looked at you, still wrapped around him with your head on his chest. Naked. Still so very, very naked.

He was barely in the bedroom door before you were pushing him against it, almost catching his fingers when he attempted to mute the sound of it closing at his back. You had his shirt unbuttoned and your mouth on his before he could even take a breath. “I told you,” you panted against his lips, “we’re playing chess tonight.” Daryl grabbed the back of your thighs and lifted you easily, spinning you to press you against the door. “Goddamn right, we are.” The first round was a frenzied bout of moaning and skin slapping skin, hands covering mouths to keep the noise down. Your nails had left gouges on Daryl’s ass and back, clawing at him for more. You weren’t unscathed. A bruise was blooming on the curve of your right breast, a perfect black and purple bite he had inflicted at some point. It ended with you lying across Daryl’s torso while he was flat on his back with the pillow halfway over his face. Panting and sweating while the sheet covered neither of you where it mattered. Why it was anywhere near either of you was anyone’s guess. The second time was slower, every second savored. Your fingertips memorizing his face while his hips rolled into you, back arching to push himself deeper. His lips were on your forehead, your eyelids, your cheeks and mouth. His fingers danced down your ribcage and back up to your breasts, gentle caresses while he pressed his lips over the mark he’d left earlier. You didn’t have to try hard to roll him over. He went willingly, his hands going straight for your hips. You let your fingers roam his chest and stomach. His scars were yours to explore, he’d given that power over to you long ago. The marks no longer held him prisoner after you’d shown him how to be free. You were incredibly attracted to the way his body had softened with age and he worshiped each wrinkle and stretch mark that time and pregnancy had gifted you. You loved each other wholly, without condition. 

And you laid where you had collapsed, goosebumps on your skin from the cool morning air. Daryl didn’t want to go back to sleep, so he laid there, watching you and just enjoying the silence with the knowledge that his family was safe. That you had survived together and built something so precious.

When River began to fuss, it was Daryl that slipped out of bed and left you to rest a bit longer. He had no qualms with being the one to get up earlier to take care of the baby.

The weekend went by fast, as it often did. Sunday night, he found himself sitting on the couch after the kids were all asleep. He had helped clean up after dinner and was contently watching you pick up toys and fold laundry. He didn’t step in to help because he had no intention of allowing you to continue for long.

“What?” You finally inquired, obviously catching him staring.

“Nothin’.” He smirked, huffing a laugh that came out as an exhale through his nose. You were still regarding him when he stood and beckoned you with a finger. “C’mere.” Your pretty eyes narrowed but you placed the unfolded towel on the top of the pile in the basket and stepped into his space. Daryl wasn’t romantic, truly believed he didn’t have it in him to be anything near it. Still, when he guided your arms to his shoulders and lowered his hands to your hips, he watched you melt.

“There’s no music, Daryl.”

“Don’t need it.” He shrugged, just swaying back and forth with you, pulling you closer until you rested your head against his chest.

“The formidable Daryl Dixon is dancing with me when there’s no music playing. This’ll make the papers. It’ll be the headline.”

“Stop.” He chuckled, pressing a kiss into your hair. He was smiling when you sighed, somehow pressing yourself closer to him. You didn’t react at first when he started to hum, whether you were in shock or just relishing the moment. Maybe both. You let him continue.

It was an old tune, one from a favorite album released more than a decade before the first walker rose from the dead. The tune was slow and deep, his chest vibrating with every drone. Finally, you pulled back just enough to look up at him, the corners of your mouth perked.

“What is that?”

“How dare ya! S’Ozzy, woman.” He feigned offense but was tenderly tucking your hair behind your ears.

“I’ve never heard it.”

Daryl scowled playfully before scrunching his nose. “Remind me why I married ya?” You wrapped yourself around him and with the fondest smile he had ever let cross his face, he held you tighter.

“Because you love me.”

“Yeah.” He breathed. “Yeah, I do.”

[darylmydix]

730 DAYS | daryl dixon [coming soon]

“we protect our people. we’ll protect you–i’ll protect you.”

“don’t make promises you can’t keep, daryl dixon.”

summary: 2 years since you’ve been trapped with the saviors as one of negan’s many wives, and 2 weeks since you’ve made your escape into the world of the living dead, anticipating whatever fate awaits you; but when you meet unlikely hero, daryl dixon, he saves you and brings you to alexandria. it’s a paradise you’ve longed for, but how long will this freedom last until negan finds you?

pairings: daryl dixon x f!reader

warnings: smut, violence, blood and gore, sexual assault, mentions of noncon, use of deadly weapons, fluff, angst, murder, slow burn-ish, strong language, torture, decapitation, s6-11, 18+, minors dni.

author’s note: so i started watching twd again, which i haven’t watched in years but now that i’m a grown woman i’ve been feigning for daryl lmao, he’s so fine idcidcidc.

000

[snailss]

MARCHWERES PROMPT 6- WET DOG PLEASE GIVE CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM.

Main Masterlist

Daryl Masterlist (includes marchweres)

Prompt list by: @marchweres

CW: Poor writing, short, swearing, reader is referred to as ‘woman’ once but it is otherwise gender neutral, mentions of scars, characters are naked but it is still semi sfw, slightly suggestive, not proof read, lemme know if i missed anything!

Daryl was filthy.

The man was a walking biohazard, his clothing stained with grime and walker guts, yet he still refused to hop in the bath, stating that it was ‘fuckin’ pointless’ until after he had shifted for his hunt later. In a point of desperation to get him clean, you told him you would join him.

Which leads you to now.

You’re slowly rubbing shampoo in the mans hair while he grumbles about something incoherent, his words garbled. There’s a smile on your face while you nod along to the stories of his run, your hands massaging his scalp lightly with each pass of his hair. Despite him being taller than you, you’re behind him, his back pressed flush against your bare chest.

Slowly, you rinse the suds out of his hair and move down. You pour some soap on your hands and begin to rub his back, loosening the tight knots and stress out of his muscles. Your fingers trail lightly over his scars, being sure to kiss the occasional one before you pass by it with the soap.

With open mouth kisses, your lips trail up to his scent gland, sucking against it softly and giggling at the small whine he lets escape. Such a big, strong man, all just to be unraveled by the slightest touch.

“Shit, woman..” his voice trails off, his torso melting into your body and leaning against you.

You hum in acknowledgement, kissing and sucking his neck, leaving a nice plum coloured mark on his throat. The procedere forces a groan out of Daryl, and you think that maybe, just maybe, you should bathe with him more often..

A/N: I’m still new to writing, so please be kind in the comments! I wanted to try some Marchweres Prompts, so here we go!!

[kdogreads]

Perfect to us

Dad!Husband!Daryl x Reader fluffy smut

Summary: Daryl and his wife, y/n, enjoy a quiet evening with with their little family before spending some nice time alone.

Word count: 2181

Warnings: praise!kink, smut (18+ only), all of the pet names, oral (fem-receiving), unprotected sex (don’t be like them), please let me know anything else

A/N: Another addition to the Dad!Daryl series. Very fluffy to start, with some steamy smut closing it out. Oof, I just love Daryl and as a dad 😮‍💨

Read the first part here

Enjoy and thank you for reading!

————————————————

You were enjoying a warm evening around a bonfire with your neighbors when y/b/n started to fuss.

“Wha’s wrong, Ass Kicker?” Daryl asked, eliciting a few laughs from the friends around you.

“How many times do I have to tell you that is not her name, Daryl,” You teased back at him. He grinned and planted a kiss onto your forehead before turning his attention back to your baby who was already being distracted by one of the other kids.

She had grown more and more tired as she played with the older kids who loved helping her crawl and try to walk, or giving her little pieces of chocolate bar to gum on when you weren’t looking. Daryl would put his finger to his mouth, signaling them to stay quiet, but nodding and motioning for them to break her off a small piece. You always pretended not to notice, but you’d smile at Daryl from your perch on his lap while the children giggled behind you.

Your head was tucked into Daryl’s shoulder while he rubbed small circles into your back with one hand and lazily held both your hands in your lap with the other. A cool breeze danced around your skin and he pulled you closer into him.

One of your neighbors was playing a worn guitar and singing old country western songs. Carol stood up at the end of a song everyone was singing along to, except for Daryl, of course, and said goodnight to your friends. She crouched next to y/b/n and planted a kiss on top of her head before walking over to you and Daryl, placing a hand on your shoulder to say goodnight to the both of you.

Y/b/n crawled her way back over to the two of you and let out a small cry. You uncurled yourself from Daryl’s lap and bent down to pick her up.

“Someone’s ready for bed, hm?” You cooed as you wrapped her up in your arms, her eyes already fluttering just from the comfort of your touch.

You took a step away from the group before Daryl put a hand softly on your arm.

“Stay,” He started softly, lifting the sleepy baby from your arms, “I’ll put her to bed.”

You smiled and planted a soft kiss on her temple and gave your husband’s strong bicep a squeeze. He said a few quiet ‘good nights’ before waving the tired baby’s hand at the small group. A smile grew on everyone’s faces while a few let out a chuckle or wished her sweet dreams.

You sat back down in the camping chair you’d just been sharing with Daryl and enjoyed a few more songs. Some you knew and some you didn’t, but no one minded whether it was a familiar tune or not, you all just enjoyed the music and the company.

After a few more minutes, the group began whittling down to just a few and you decided to head back to the small house you shared with your family.

You turned the doorknob expecting to see Daryl in the kitchen pouring you some drinks or on the couch making arrows, but he wasn’t downstairs.

You lugged your way up the staircase, tiredness beginning to weigh down your limbs, and peaked your head into your shared bedroom, but he wasn’t there either.

Finally you made it to the next door, the nursery, and carefully opened it up. There you finally found Daryl, head hanging down in front of him while he held your baby in the rocking chair, both fast asleep.

You stood in the doorway for a moment, taking in the precious view in front of you. Your whole world right there in that old rocking chair, shoulders slowly lifting and falling in harmony, looking more peaceful than you’d seen anyone look in years.

Finally you took a few steps into the room and placed your hand gently on your husband’s shoulder.

“Hey,” You whispered quietly, causing him to startle slightly, but relax again once he remembered the precious cargo he held in his strong arms.

He put his large hand over yours and slowly stood up to place her into her crib. The two of you stood in the doorway again for a moment, together this time, and watched her sleep. Daryl snaked an arm around your waist and pulled you to his chest, savoring every second of this rare, sweet moment with his girls.

After just another moment, the two of you made your way back to your bedroom and stripped off your clothes before climbing into bed. The Georgia heat was no joke in the summer, even at night, so you slept with windows cracked open for a breeze and usually with no more than your underwear on.

“C’mere,” Daryl whispered to you while you slid over to him, wrapping your arms around his broad chest while he pulled you closer into him.

You let out a content sigh and settled further into your comfortable position, both of you happy to be wrapped up in one another.

“I never thought I’d be any good at it, ya know,” Daryl began, “Still don’t.”

“Good at what?” You asked, your voice full of worry while you looked up at him with furled eyebrows.

“All this. Bein’ a dad, husband. Just don’t wanna let you down,” He answered in a quiet, small tone.

“Baby,” You began, shifting your body to be face-to-face with your husband and cupping a hand around either side of his sun-worn face, “You are perfect to me. A pain in my ass most of the time, but perfect.”

He let out a chuckle and danced his fingers up and down your bare sides.

“You are the best daddy to y/b/n that she could possibly have. Hell, you might be the best dad left in the whole damn world, Daryl,” You cooed to him before planting a strong kiss onto his lips.

“Stop,” The word escaped his lips between kisses, “Don’t give me a big head, now.”

You laughed into his lips and pulled away again slightly.

“There’s no one else in the world who could take care of us the way you do. Please don’t think any less, honey. You are perfect to us,” You desperately reassured him, your heart breaking inside to think he doesn’t know how good of a man he is.

“You girls are all that matters, hm,” He hummed into your lips, “I’ll never need nothin’ else.”

Your kisses grew hungrier and hungrier as your mind wandered, trying hard to remember the last time you had an intimate moment alone with no baby, no walkers, no neighbors. Just the two of you.

Daryl’s grip on your sides became stronger before he slid one hand down to your round bottom and flipped you over to your back, his lips never leaving yours.

You drew your hands to his hair and pulled it out of his face so you could see his eyes as he traveled down your body leaving kisses on all of your favorite spots.

“Dar,” You sighed as he paused on your hardened nipples. Kissing around them gently before taking one into his mouth, tongue swirling around while his hand kneaded into the other.

“Let me take care of you, sweetheart,” He whispered into your stomach, sending shivers up your spine.

You let out a sharp breath as his lips met the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. Daryl’s strong hands slid down your body once more to slowly spread your legs apart, leaving him access to your glistening folds.

All you could do was bite your pillow to keep from crying out as he ran a finger up and down your core, drawing the slickness around with each swipe.

“My good girl,” He hummed into you, his warm breath dancing over your aching entrance, causing you to squirm under his grasp, “So ready for me, hm?”

Daryl dove into your folds before you could react, sliding a finger into you and his tongue circling around your throbbing clit.

You held back your moans of pleasure as best as you could, knowing a noise too loud would ruin this time together.

Daryl ran a hand up to your breast and played with it while looking up at you from your aching core. Your hands tangled into his long hair as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, lips forming a small “o” around your sensitive bud.

It was only another moment when you felt the spring inside you winding itself up, ready to burst. Daryl felt your breath hitch and picked up his pace, intending to make you explode with pleasure.

“Dar- baby, I- I’m-“ You sputtered out, trying your hardest to hold on to the intense pressure he was causing to build up in your stomach.

“Let go,” Daryl breathed onto your clit, “Cum for me, sweetheart.”

His words caused the coil inside you to snap, your senses filling with the white hotness of an orgasm. Your eyes strained shut and your hips ground harshly into his mouth, dragging out the waves of pleasure as long as you could.

Daryl rode you through your high, pumping his fingers in and out of you, tongue swirling around the slickness that slid out of your entrance around him. He kept the pace until your legs relaxed beside him and your walls stopped clenching around his calloused fingers.

He worked his way back up your body, retracing all the kisses he’d left before while you fluttered back down to earth, body still reeling from the intense pleasure you just felt.

His lips met yours again and kissed you with the same eagerness as before.

“Please, Daryl, take me,” You whispered into his lips, “Take me now.”

“My sweet girl,” He praised as he lined his throbbing tip up with your entrance, “Anythin’ you want.”

He slid his hard cock slowly into you, taking his time to fill up your aching walls. You gasped as his thighs finally met yours.

He began slowly at first, carefully sliding all but his tip out of you before plunging back into your dripping folds. His hands planted firmly on either side of your head, allowing him to take in the view of your lust-ridden face.

His pace picked up as you breathed out his name once, twice; fingers twisted into his hair so you could pull his lips to yours.

“So beautiful like this, y/n,” He hummed into your neck, planting kisses all along your salty skin, “All laid out under me like that, pretty girl.”

Your moan caught in your throat as you felt the pressure building again, pushing you further towards another orgasm. Daryl’s pace wavered for the first time before picking back up, faster than before.

“Ya feel so good, sweet girl,” Daryl’s rough voice filled your ears as the spring in your stomach wound impossibly tighter.

“Cum for me, baby,” You whined into his ear as you began giving in to the pressure, “Please.”

Moans escaped both of your lips as your walls clenched down on him. Your body rocked as the hotness of another orgasm overtook you. You gasped as Daryl quickly pulled out of your spasming walls and warm ribbons of his seed landed on your stomach.

His lips crashed into yours to dull the sounds coming from your throats as you both rode out the final waves of pleasure together.

He slid down beside you and planted another soft kiss on your lips.

“What, don’t want another little one to chase around?” You teased him breathlessly, chest still heaving from your high.

“Hell no, crazy woman,” He shook his head, lips curling into a small smile.

“God, I love you, Dar,” You sighed, a silly grin still on your face.

“I love you, sweetheart,” Daryl breathed into your ear before sliding out of bed to grab a towel.

He quickly cleaned himself up before walking over to your side and wiping the sticky liquid off your skin. He was just about to climb back into bed where you’d slid over to make room for him when a loud wail escaped from the room next door.

Daryl let out a low growl as his head fell onto your chest. You laughed lightly as he brought his eyes back up to yours.

“I’ll get ‘er,” He sighed as he stood up and slid his boxers back on. You smiled sleepily at him.

“Girl whines almost as much as her mama,” Daryl teased, a smirk on his face as he stepped towards the door.

“Screw you, Dixon,” You spat back playfully, sliding the thin blanket over your tired body while shaking your head.

“Right back at ya, Mrs. Dixon,” Daryl smiled at you again before stepping into the hallway towards your baby girl, ready to soothe her as long as she needed.

You rolled over to your spot in the bed and let your heavy eyes fall shut, contentedly sighing as you drifted into a calm sleep.

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 6,924 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: the prison Warnings: language, mild gore (killing walkers), really none! it's mostly fluff! Summary: Daryl realizes how touch-starved he's been and exactly who he wants to satisfy that with. Really just sweet, vulnerable Daryl.[he is baby in this fic 100%]

Daryl startled awake, shooting straight up on his bed.

“Wow! Sorry! I was trying to wake you up gently!”

He looked up at her with a steely glare. Then he let out a sigh and his shoulders slumped, the frantic alarmed feeling passing quickly as he realized it was just Carol. “The hell ya wakin’ me up for at all? I didn’t fall asleep until the sun was nearly up,” he growled, swinging his legs down over the edge of the bed and planting his feet on the floor. He still had his boots on.

She gave him a sympathetic look. “Sorry… but I really could use a hand. The water line is clogged up with mud again. The others are going to keep the herd on the fence occupied and thin the numbers down while I try to clear it. I could use you to watch my back.”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, alrigh’. Just gimme a few minutes. I’ll meet ya out in the yard.”

“Okay, Pookie” she teased him, smiling. She reached to affectionately smooth a hand over his tousled hair but he deflected it hurriedly and shot her another look that made her laugh. “I’ll see you in a minute,” she chuckled.

“Yeah, go on and get outta here… Pain in my ass,” he grumbled, climbing to his feet.

As Carol’s footsteps retreated outside his cell, he glanced at his reflection in the cracked mirror hanging on the cell wall. His hair was a mess and he did what he could to hastily smooth it with his hands before abandoning the effort with a grunt. He hurriedly grabbed his crossbow and fixed his knife in its sheath at his hip. Relacing his boots to make sure they were tight, he called it good and made his way through the prison.

As he stepped outside into the sunlight, he could already see that things were busy despite the early morning hour. Rick and Carl were in the garden plots with Hershel and everyone else seemed to either be chopping and stacking firewood or working down on the fence. It was rare for Daryl not to be the first one awake and it left him feeling off-balance. He hadn’t been sleeping hardly at all and it must have finally added up to pure exhaustion since he’d actually caught a few hours until Carol woke him.

His blue eyes, squinted against the light, searched for you out of subconscious habit. He spotted you alongside Glenn and Maggie on the fence. He felt his heart skipping a beat.

The gravel crunched under his boots as he headed to meet Carol who was waiting at the gate that led to the alleyway between the fences. She greeted him with a tight smile. “Ready?”

“Yep. Good to go,” he replied.

Carol opened the gate and Daryl followed her in. Soon they were passing by you, Glenn, and Maggie putting down walkers through the chainlink.

“Are you alright, Daryl?” Maggie called out, shading her eyes with a gloved hand. “I thought maybe you were sick or somethin’,” she said.

“Yeah, unusual for any of us to be up before you,” Glenn agreed, leaning on the metal rod in his hand.

“Christ, ev’rybody’s got somethin’ to say about it,” Daryl retorted. “Can’t a man get a couple hours of sleep for once?”

You turned after putting down a particularly large and loud walker, gore dripping off the end of the sharpened makeshift spear in your hand and you wiped at the stray strands of your hair that were sticking to your face with your arm. You skin was already glistening with sweat despite it being far from the hottest part of the day. You smiled at Daryl, squinting against the sun. “I didn’t say anything,” you laughed.

“Yeah, well thanks for that,” Daryl said, meeting your eyes. “Yer the only damn one…” He gulped, always a little nervous when your full attention was on him.

“Alright, alright,” Carol said, laughing. “I think we’ve teased poor Daryl enough for actually sleeping. Just keep the herd down this end, away from the water line, okay? We’re heading out to clear it now.”

You all nodded and returned to the task at hand. Daryl couldn’t help glancing back at you over his shoulder a few times, until he slipped out of the hole to the outside behind Carol and closed it back up behind him, lacing the sturdy wire back through the fencing and pulling it tight.

Carol pulled the water line up out of the creek and began twisting apart sections of it to clear out the mud and muck. “Yuck… no wonder we were hardly pulling any water in,” she said, shaking a particularly large chunk of red Georgia clay out of the nozzle.

“Mhm,” Daryl hummed, chewing on his bottom lip. His eyes scanned the surrounding tall grass and trees for any approaching stray walkers, but he found that they continually seemed to return to you on the fence almost on their own.

“Hey. Hey!” Carol was suddenly laughing. “Did you hear me?”

“Huh?” Daryl’s eyes snapped back to her. “Sorry.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him and a small, perhaps slightly knowing, smile curved her lips. “Distracted?” she asked.

He shifted. “Are ya done?”

Carol laughed to herself again and dusted off her hands. “Yeah, I think so.” She walked back to the stream with the end of the hose and dropped it back into the creek. “So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?” she asked as the two of them started back up the slope toward the fence.

Daryl shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe work on my bike. Probably due for a tune-up,” he drawled, slinging his crossbow back over his shoulder.

She nodded. “Sorry I woke you up. I was shocked you were still sleeping to be honest. I waited around a bit but—"

“Nah, s’alrigh’. I probably needed to get up anyway,” he replied, glancing ahead toward the fence again. The herd of walkers was dwindling with the efficient work of you and the others but the bodies were piling up on the outside now. Clean-up duty would be needed.

“Well, you should head inside and eat something,” Carol said. “I know you haven’t had anything yet today.”

He ran a hand back through his hair and nodded. “Yeah… maybe in a bit. I think ‘m gonna start pilin’ up those carcasses. We’ll need to burn ‘em later and it ain’t no good havin’ ‘em up against the fence, attractin’ new walkers.”

Carol stopped. “Oh. Yeah, true. I’ll help. Looks like they’re about done anyway,” she said.

He nodded and they strode over, dew down in the longer tufts of grass wetting their boots and hems. There were maybe six walkers left clawing at the fence and they were quickly cut down to three as he and Carol approached on the outside. Daryl pulled his gloves from his back pocket and tugged them on as Carol walked over, watching the last upright body fall onto the pile a moment later.

“How’s the water line?” you asked, gripping the fence, the tips of your fingers poking through.

“Should be all cleared out now,” Carol said. “Nice work,” she said, referring to the pile of bodies at her feet. “Daryl and I will start pulling these away from the fence and piling them to be burned.”

“Alright. I’ll come help,” you said, setting down the metal rod you’d been wielding and briefly wiping at the sweat glistening on your forehead with your forearm again.

“You sure? You’ve done more than your fair share of hard labor today,” Carol said. “Looks like Maggie and Glenn are already heading back up to rest.”

“Yeah, it’s alright. I don’t mind,” you said. “It’ll go faster with three of us.”

“Alright. Come on out! Thanks,” Carol said, giving you a grateful smile.

You nodded and hurried to let yourself out the makeshift opening to the outside. Daryl had already dragged away four bodies in the time it took for you to make your way over. You offered him a wide smile that had his heart jumping and he paused before he grabbed another walker, lacing the fingers of his gloves together in a nervous gesture. “Ya alrigh’?” he drawled. “Ya ain’t gotta help with this. Ya did a lot of work on them from the other side,” he said. Your cheeks and chest were flushed red with heat and effort and the cotton of your t-shirt was clinging to your damp skin.

You shrugged. “I’m all good. It’ll get done sooner this way,” you said. He watched your eyes flickering up over his face a couple times and he became suddenly self-conscious.

He cleared his throat. “What?”

You laughed lightly. “Oh—it’s just—you’ve got this one piece of hair sticking up—it’s been defying gravity since you first came out here. I’m just a little surprised it’s still hanging in there,” you joked. You pulled your gloves off and stepped up to him. “It’s just sticking straight up,” you laughed again, attempting to smooth it gently.

An electric shiver ran up Daryl’s back as your fingers combed through his hair. “What’s it matter?” he drawled, attempting to sound gruff and not what he was actually feeling… which was completely jittery. “Ain’t like ‘m tryin’ to win a beauty contest out here.”

“Oh, so you want to be a unicorn? Got it,” you teased him, redoubling your efforts and using both hands and your fingernails to try to combat the stray strand, but it only sprung right back up. You laughed again, your eyes crinkling at the corners. A fluttery feeling burst between Daryl’s lungs. You sighed and shook your head, stepping back and crossing your arms, surveying him. “Nope. Won’t cooperate. I guess you are stuck as a wild unicorn today,” you said. “At least until it comes in contact with a wet comb.”

“Comb? I dunno if I’ve even got one of those,” he joked. “Thanks for tryin’,” Daryl said, half-sarcastically. You only flashed him another grin. You pulled your gloves back on and headed back to the fence to grab a walker. Carol stopped beside Daryl and he grabbed the body she was dragging by the ankles and helped her swing it onto the newly-formed pile. She gave him an appraising look when she stood up, her eyebrows lifting slightly. “What?” he asked.

“No, nothing,” she said, smiling vaguely. But it certainly wasn’t lost on her that when she had attempted to ruffle his hair, her hand had been pushed away brusquely.

Daryl ducked his head and went back to work. You were still at the fence when he walked up beside you. You were attempting to untangle a disgusting mass of limbs to pull a single walker out. Your nose wrinkled and you let out a noise of disgust. “I don’t think I will ever get used to the smell of them,” you mused aloud.

Daryl looked up, about to respond, but suddenly your feet went out from under you and you were landing hard on your back, all the breath pushed out of your body. “Y/N!”

There was a surprisingly strong hand that had emerged from the pile of bodies gripping your ankle and low, muffled growls emanated from a walker beneath the heap that was not quite dead.

Daryl jumped into action immediately, stomping his boot down onto the grasping arm until it released you and then quickly tugging you away by gripping you under the arms. He collapsed down on the ground behind you and you came to rest partially against him, still gasping for air as your lungs had not yet returned to normal, still seized up from the fall. You found yourself completely unaware that you were laying back against his chest as you just focused on trying to breathe. Daryl didn’t dare move.

Carol came running over at full speed. “Oh my God! Are you okay?!”

All you could do was nod urgently, unable to talk still. You pressed a hand to your chest and willed your lungs to start drawing in air again. Your heart was pounding.

“Fucker didn’t scratch ya ,did he? Please, tell me he didn’t…” Daryl gasped. “Carol, check her ankles quick!”

Carol quickly bent over you and looked, sighing with relief. “No, she’s clean.”

It was about that time that your lungs started working again and you realized you were sort of on top of Daryl. “Oh, shit,” you breathed, sitting up and turning. “I’m sorry. I—I’m leaning on you,” you said hurriedly.

Daryl shook his head, his brow still furrowed deeply. “S’alrigh’. Are ya okay? Ya sure?”

You nodded, trying hard to slow your breathing and heart rate. “I’m okay. Just startled me more than anything.”

Daryl climbed to his feet and offered you his hand. He pulled you up. You both watched as Carol kicked a body aside and plunged her knife into the head of the walker that had grabbed you and was still moving. “Got him,” she said, straightening up, her knife dripping blood onto the grass.

It was then that you realized your hand was still in Daryl’s. He hadn’t let go. You could feel the calluses on his palms from digging with the shovels the week before and the calluses on his fingertips from drawing back his crossbow. His thumb was closed gently over the back of your hand. He seemed to have realized then that the moment had passed when he should have relinquished his gentle hold on you and he suddenly drew back, wiping his hand on his pants as if that would rid it of the electric tingle on his palm. “Are ya sure yer okay?” he asked again.

“Fine. I’m fine… just knocked the wind out of me for a minute,” you said.

“How was that one not dead?” he growled, moving to peer down at the body.

“Here,” Carol said, pointing at the neck. “Looks like whoever was trying to put it down just missed the back of head.”

Daryl straightened up, looking worried still. “We’ll have to remind ev’rybody to be more careful on the fence. What if somebody had gotten bit ‘cuz that fucker wasn’t quite dead?”

“It could’ve been my fault,” you said quickly. “I was working the fence too.”

“Well, I doubt ya need the reminder now,” Daryl said seriously, giving you a concerned look. You only nodded. “Look, why dun ya just head back up to the prison for a bit. Get outta the sun and get some water.”

You cocked your head as you looked at him. “What? No,” you laughed. “You think that’s enough to scare me off? Hell no, Dixon,” you said, already smiling at him again. “Let’s get this shit done.”

Carol smiled and shrugged. “You heard her, Dixon,” she teased, leaning down to grab another corpse by the wrists and pull it away.

The pile moved away from the fence and ready to be burned, you and Carol were about to start back to the prison when there was a rustling in the brush nearby. A scraggly looking walker wandered out and started toward the group of you, reaching up with hands that were missing several fingers.

Daryl unsheathed his knife with a well-practiced movement. “I got it,” he said, jogging over to put it down with a skillful stab to the head. He paced back, wiping his knife on his pants. “I’ll ask Rick where he put the gas/oil mixture for burnin’ this later. Ain’t no reason we gotta do it in this sun. Let’s head back up,” he drawled.

You nodded in agreement and pulled your gloves off, glancing at him with a half-smile. “Hey, do you have your bandana on you?” you asked.

“Mhm,” he said pulling it out from his back pocket and offering it to you. “Why?”

You took it, stepped in close to him, and dabbed at a spray of blood on the side of his neck from the walker he’d just put down, wiping it away. “You didn’t feel it?” you laughed. “Apparently it was a juicy one.” You held his bandana out to him again.

“Thanks,” he said, feeling his face flush a little with heat. He noticed Carol watching the interaction with that same vague smile on her face. He ducked his head and cleared his throat. “Alrigh’. Let’s head back inside them fences… One close call is more than enough for today.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

When Daryl saw you again in a few hours, he could tell you’d cleaned up after your morning shift on the fence. Your hair was down, framing your face and was shining in the sun. There was no more sweat or grime clinging to your skin anymore. You waved as you caught his eyes already on you and he gulped as you made your way over.

Daryl, on the other hand, was still just as filthy as he had been when you all left the pile of walkers outside the fence behind, perhaps moreso. His hands were covered in oil and grime from working on his bike. He felt suddenly self-conscious as you stopped beside him in your fresh clothes.

“I was looking for you,” you said.

“Me?” Daryl straightened up next to his bike.

“Yeah. Carol said you haven’t eaten anything all day,” you said pointedly, your eyebrows lifting.

He shrugged. “Just ain’t gotten around to it yet, I guess,” he drawled, fiddling with the tool in his hands.

“I see. You’re just entirely too busy to take care of yourself?” you retorted. As you talked, you reached out and wiped away a smudge of oil on his forearm casually.

Daryl, however, couldn’t be casual about the spark he’d just felt from that little touch of your fingertip. It jumped up to his arm and seemed to have made its way to his heart, because it was now racing. He gulped.

“Well, what if I fix you a bowl of something and bring it out? You worked hard this morning. You should eat,” you said, cocking your head at him. “We can’t have you suddenly passing out out here and faceplanting onto the cement,” you teased him.

He fixed his blue eyes on you for a long moment. “Ya ain’t gotta do that. ‘M almost done out here. I can come in and—”

You grabbed his arm again and Daryl almost stepped backwards from the way his body seemed to react to your touch again. It was nearly overwhelming. “Daryl, what I asked was if you would eat it if I brought it out. It’s a simple question,” you said, shooting him a playful look. “So?” Your hand was still on his arm. It was light and gentle, but he could feel the softness of your skin. He stared at it for a long second and then managed to clear his throat enough to respond. “Y—yeah, I’d eat it, I guess.”

“Good,” you said, nodding. “I’ll be right back then.” You disappeared back inside.

Rick happened to wander by carrying the gas can for burning the pile of walkers just a minute later. Daryl was bent over his bike, muttering expletives under his breath. “Ho—watch out!” Rick said suddenly, and Daryl shot up as he felt Rick’s hand brush his back.

Daryl jumped, spun around, and shook him off. “What the hell, man?” Daryl growled.

Rick laughed and held his hand up, palm out. “Sorry! You had a huge horsefly on your back! You’re welcome.” He shook his head. “With that reaction next time I might just let you get bit,” Rick joked.

Daryl shook his head. “Sorry. Ya just startled me is all.”

“It’s alright,” Rick replied. “I’ll go take care of those bodies.” He gestured with the gas can.

Daryl nodded. “Alrigh’. Be careful out there. Fire will probably bring more of ‘em in.”

“I’ll take Glenn out with me,” Rick said, and then he was off.

A moment later you were back with a bowl of food for him. It was some kind of noodles with some venison and a few fresh tomatoes from the garden. “Alright. Break time, Daryl,” you demanded. “I need to make sure you actually eat, since apparently you won’t.”

Daryl tugged his bandana from his back pocket and mopped at the oil on his skin the best he could.

You set the bowl in his hands and your fingertips brushed his skin. You didn’t seem to notice. For Daryl it was impossible not to. “Thanks,” he murmured, grabbing a seat on a nearby concrete block.

“No problem.” You came and sat down next to him, sighing good-naturedly and looking out over the green grass of the yard. Rick was just lighting up the pile of walkers outside the fence. A breeze was blowing the tops of the trees around, sending the leaves fluttering and changing their hues. Fluffy clouds drifted by lazily.

Daryl dragged a hand across his mouth. “Mmm. S’good. Thanks,” he murmured, hurriedly taking another bite. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he’d started eating.

You smiled at his voracious eating habits and leaned your chin on your hand, your elbow propped on your knee. You reached over again with your free hand and attempted to smooth that same stubborn strand of his hair that had been sticking up all day. Goosebumps rose up Daryl’s back.

“Thought ya gave that up as a lost cause,” Daryl said through a mouthful, holding absolutely still while your fingers were in his hair.

“I did. Was just… I don’t know,” you shrugged, smiling. “I kind of like it.”

He shot you a look like you were crazy.

“What?” you laughed. “It’s endearing!”

“Yer nuts,” he joked, ducking his head again and turning back to his food. He didn’t see you biting your bottom lip as you looked at him, a fond and soft light in your eyes.

_ _ _ _ _ _

That evening, most of the group was gathered around a bonfire out in the yard. You’d all roasted scraps of venison from a deer Daryl had shot the day before, supplemented with vegetables from the garden and everyone was full and happy. Carol was rocking Judith and cooing over her. Maggie, Glenn, and Beth were playing a rowdy game of cards. Rick and Carl seemed content to watch the people they loved enjoying themselves and you and Hershel were off to one side talking about plans for fall crops when cool season time rolled around again.

Daryl was the only one who had wandered away by himself and seemed to be standing watch on one of the guard platforms. You noticed his broad-shouldered silhouette against the sky and excused yourself.

He turned at the sound of steps on the rattling metal stairs and straightened up when he saw you come around the corner.

You looked up and smiled at him and his heart jumped. “Hey,” you greeted him.

“Hey. Everythin’ alrigh’?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said, nodding. You came to stand beside him at the railing and leaned forward on your forearms. “You okay? Were we all too rowdy down there?” you asked.

“‘M good. Just thought somebody should be on watch, ya know?”

“Mmm,” you hummed, nodding.

“It doesn’t always have to be you though,” you said. “You take on a lot. You’re allowed to relax too. Your worth as a person isn’t tied to what you can do for the group.”

He looked at you with a semi-startled expression on his handsome face.

“And I see now that you needed to hear that,” you said your eyebrows lifting. “It’s true.”

You turned and looked back out over the shadows settling into the yard and the warm orange glow illuminating your found family.

Daryl was chewing on his bottom lip thoughtfully. He lifted a hand to rub at his right shoulder, wincing a little as he rotated it.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nah, s’nothin’. I must’a tweaked it when I was movin’ my bike this afternoon. Tha’s all. S’fine.”

“Hmm. Alright. Turn around,” you said, straightening up.

“What?” Daryl asked, one of his eyebrows quirked up with the question.

“I said turn around,” you said again.

“Why?”

“Just turn around!” you laughed. “What, are you scared of me?”

“Maybe a little,” Daryl replied, a half-smile turning up one corner of your mouth.

Your hands landed on your hips and you cocked your head at him with attitude. He surrendered and turned so his back was to you.

Your hands landed gently on his shoulders and you worked your fingers into his stiff muscles. They seemed to melt beneath your touch. “You are tense,” you said. You moved to massage his sore shoulder and you could feel that one specific spot seemed particularly tight and inflamed. Your touch became gentler and Daryl’s eyes shut. He was almost leaning into the light workings of your hands. “How’s that feel?” you asked him.

All he could get out was a satisfied hum which made you smile.

“You definitely pulled something over here. You’ll have to go easy on it for a bit.”

“Mmm,” he hummed. “Maybe ya can just keep doin’ that ‘til it’s all better,” he drawled.

You laughed lightly. “I take it this feels okay then,” you said.

“Mhm,” he hummed again.

You smiled to yourself. The man deserved a little TLC. After all, you had scared the shit out of him when that walker grabbed you. You’d never forget the sound of his panicked voice yelling your name.

Just then, there was more clattering on the stairs and your hands left Daryl’s shoulders as you both turned to look. Carol came around the corner and stopped short. “Oh—sorry. I hope I’m not interrupting, um, anything,” she said, smiling.

You felt your cheeks flush and Daryl was feeling the same thing in his chest and face. “No. Not at all,” you said, leaning back against the railing.

“I was just looking for Daryl,” she explained.

“You found him,” you said. “I should head back down and see if Rick needs help getting Judith down for bed anyway.” You glanced back over at Daryl and gave him a small smile. “Night. See you in the morning. Night, Carol.”

Daryl watched you go until you disappeared into the deepening darkness. Then he felt Carol’s eyes on him. He turned at looked at her and her expression and postured, crossed arms and all, could only be described as smug. “What?” he asked, nestling the edge of his thumbnail in between his teeth and biting down.

“I’m really sorry if I did interrupt something,” she said pointedly.

“Interrupt what?” he drawled, a little irritated.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head at him. “Let me just ask you something. How come eight out of ten times if I go to ruffle your hair or wipe a smudge of something gross off you, I get my hand smacked away, but Y/N always seems able to make contact, hmm?”

Daryl’s brow furrowed. He simply stared back at her. Internally though, his mind and his heart were working in overdrive.

Carol laughed. “You don’t have to answer. I think we both know why,” she said with a satisfied smile.

Daryl sighed and ruffled a hand back through his wavy hair before resuming his position leaning on the railing next to Carol.

“You do like her though, don’t you?” Carol asked.

Daryl only continued to stare out over the dark yard, chewing on his bottom lip in that signature way of his. Carol’s smile widened and she nodded.

“I thought so.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

“Well, you beat all of us awake again today. I guess everything is back to normal,” Glenn said, kindly reaching out to give Daryl a friendly pat on the shoulder as he passed him. The archer flinched and Glenn gave him an apologetic look. “Sorry,” he said quickly.

“Oh—nah, s’alrigh’,” Daryl drawled. “Just startled me… And yeah. Hope ya slackers had a good snooze. Some of us gotta get shit done around here,” he joked, shouldering his crossbow and heading toward the door to leave.

You happened to be coming back in with Judith in your arms and Daryl nearly ran into you, stopping short to avoid the collision. You laughed and greeted him, one of your hands reflexively landing flush in the center of his chest and staying there until the two of you had side-stepped around each other.

Glenn came to sit beside Maggie again, handing her the cup of tea he’d just gotten for her. “Did you see that? How he flinched?” he asked, a little sadly, his head indicating Daryl before the archer slipped out the door.

“Mhm,” Maggie nodded. “But did ya see that?” she asked, a faint smile tugging on her lips now. She nodded toward you across the room where you were sitting with Judith.

Glenn shook his head. “No. What? I was at the stove.”

Maggie’s smile widened. “Daryl nearly ran into her. She put her hand out and it landed right in the middle of his chest and it stayed there until they made their way around each other. And it almost seemed like Daryl didn’t want to step away from her. He didn’t flinch. He may have even moved in closer. He couldn’t stop lookin’ at her,” Maggie said.

Glenn nodded slowly, his eyebrows lifting as realization dawned on him. “Well, last night… the two of them disappeared from the bonfire... You don’t think—?”

“I don’t know,” Maggie laughed jovially. “But if they aren’t, they should. Daryl needs that. And he’d be good for her too. He’s always been so protective of her and you can just tell there’s somethin’ there.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

It was late afternoon when you spotted Daryl taking a break out in the yard. He was sitting on the stump used to chop wood, the axe leaning up against the wood pile nearby. Having just finished sorting some of the newly discovered supplies with Carol, you were ready for a break yourself.

“Hey,” you greeted him, tugging another round of wood over next to him.

“Hey,” he returned, watching you take a seat beside him. He found himself wringing his hands a little nervously.

As you settled in next to him, your arm floated behind him for a moment, your palm gently rubbing across his shoulder blades, almost giving his back a gentle scratch, and then tapering off down his spine in an affectionate gesture. Daryl froze, fluttering bursting to life in his chest again. Electric tingles ran up his back. He swallowed hard. “Why d’ya do that?” he asked suddenly.

You turned and gaze him a questioning look, the small smile dying on your lips. “Do what?”

“Ya know, ya rub my back or—or try to smooth down my hair—”

Your eyes went a bit round and then your brow furrowed, casting shadows over the rich color of your irises. “Oh. Does it bother you? I’m—I’m sorry, Daryl. I probably should have asked you if you were okay with me breaking the touch barrier like that with you. I’m really sorry if it makes you uncomfortable. I won’t—”

“What? No. No, it doesn’t—I, uhh—I just mean—” Fuck. How could he explain this without having to confess all his deeply held feelings for you on the spot? “It’s—it’s nice… is all,” he finished lamely.

Your expression relaxed. “Yeah?”

He nodded, pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth. “I just—I ain’t ever really had anybody that—that did that kinda stuff with me, ya know? I mean—” he broke off. He didn’t want to go there. He’d had sex. He wasn’t completely inexperienced, but it had never felt anywhere near as intimate as your fingertips brushing his arm did.

Your lips formed a soft pout and the worry lines in your forehead reappeared. “You mean, touched you… affectionately?”

He nodded a little, keeping his eyes fixed toward the horizon, unable to look at you in that exact moment. “Yeah.”

Your heart ached. You nodded. “I see…” you breathed. You paused thoughtfully for a moment. You thought of all the people in your past who had touched you with love of all kinds—your parents, your best friend, hugs from extended relatives and friends, playfully holding hands as a child, touches with past partners… To think Daryl had never really had any of that broke your heart. You turned toward him and your fingers landed lightly along his jaw, gently turning his face toward you so you could see his bright blue eyes. You clasped his face for a moment and his eyes closed for just a split second. He actually leaned into the touch of your palm and you felt another pang in your chest. “I’m sorry,” you said softly, your fingertips trailing off his skin. “You should have had people your whole life touching you with love and friendship and care. And I’m so sorry you didn’t. We all need touch. It’s something fundamental to us as humans.”

You were close together, your knees almost bumping together.

Daryl’s eyes flickered between yours. “Yeah… I dun think I realized that until—pretty recently,” he said. “But ya don’t, uhh—I mean, I’ve noticed ya don’t… do the same thing with ev’rybody. I mean—not—not exactly the same,” he ventured.

“You noticed?” A small smile came back to your face. “No. You’re right. I don’t,” you agreed. You gave him a significant look and his heart began absolutely pounding in his chest, like he was running for his life, hard and fast.

“Oh…” he drawled, his eyes going suddenly unfocused.

“Yeah,” you said with a laugh, your cheeks heating with a blush. “Um, listen—come find me after dinner tonight. I’ve got first watch in the guard tower. Alright?” You stood and Daryl found himself looking up at you, wishing you wouldn’t go.

He could ask you to stay… but he just nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Alright. Tonight.”

“Great,” you said, flashing him a smile that made him glad he was sitting down already. You would have nearly knocked his knees out. How was he going to make it through the rest of the day? The waiting would be excruciating…

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl looked up at the guard tower and could see your silhouette out on the platform against the warm splash of color from the setting sun. Inside the tower, a lantern glowed softly, illuminating the windows. He made his way up the winding stairs, trying to swallow his nerves to the best of his ability, but he found it wasn’t much use. He wiped his hands on his pants, suddenly aware that his palms were sweaty.

He pushed into the tower and found the door out onto the platform standing open. You looked over your shoulder at the sound of his boots and smiled at him, before returning to leaning on the railing, staring at the hues of salmon and orange and deep reds blazing across the sky as the sun sunk behind the trees at the horizon.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” you asked, meaning the sunset.

Daryl licked his lips nervously, but he was looking at you. “Yeah,” he drawled.

“I like how the sky is never the exact same. No two skies are alike. Something is always different with the colors or the clouds or the particular shade of blue. It makes me feel like even though the world has gone to complete shit… it hasn’t really. You know?”

Daryl leaned onto the railing beside you on his forearms and drank in the scene, humming his agreement. “Mhm.” He nervously shifted. “Um… why’d—why’d ya ask me up here?” He couldn’t stand the strenuous anticipation and wondering any longer.

You turned giving him a sympathetic smile. “Sorry. You’ve probably been wondering all day. Well… I was wondering if I could kiss you and this seemed like a nice place to do it—private, nice view, stars will be out soon, unlikely to be interrupted…”

Daryl thought he must have heard you wrong. “Wait—what?”

You smiled at him, your eyes sparking with light. “I’d like to kiss you, if that’s alright?”

He stared at you. “Ya wanna kiss me?”

“Yes,” you nodded.

“Huh… well—what if I wanna kiss you first?”

You gave him an amused look, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Then, I’d say this works out for both of us?” you laughed.

He ducked his head for a moment. “Cuz I’ve wanted to kiss ya for—for a long time now. Prob’ly longer than you’ve wanted to kiss me,” he admitted. He shot a cautious look at your expression but you still just had that serene smile on your face.

“Daryl—” you said, stepping in toward him and gently taking hold of the front of his vest, “I don’t care who initiates it, but I’d like it to happen n—”

You didn’t get the last word out, because Daryl’s lips landed flush on yours and his hand was tangling into your hair, the other landing lightly on your waist. He seemed a little tense at first, nerves maybe, but quickly you melted into each other, your knees weakening, and he tugged you against him as your arms looped around his neck.

Your hearts were racing in time together and you were both breathless when you broke apart, pulling back only enough to breathe. Daryl’s fingers drummed anxiously on your lower back.

“Was… that alrigh’?” he asked.

“Alright?” you repeated. “It was perfect,” you said.

He looked relieved. “Good. ‘Cuz… it was for me too,” he said softly. “And I’d like to do it again, if tha’s alrigh’?”

You grinned and arched into him, crashing your lips against his. This kiss was fiery and hungry and you didn’t break apart for a long time. Daryl held your body firmly against his and the two of you moved without any clumsiness or reticence, reading each other easily and sinking into it.

The sun was now nearly completely gone and the first stars were appearing in the inky sky. The moon was rising. You bit your bottom lip, looking up at Daryl. “I was hoping you’d stay until my shift is over.”

“Mmm,” Daryl nodded, his hands still on your waist. “Alrigh’. But s’gonna be hard to keep watch with ya distractin’ me.”

“Well, there are two of us… only one of us really needs to be watching at a time,” you joked, laughing lightly. You stroked your fingers through his wavy hair, brushing it away from his face, and his eyes closed at your touch. “I brought a blanket up to sit on. Come on.”

Daryl settled down on it first and then nudged his head in a way as to request that you sink down against him. His arm draped behind you and landed on your hip. His fingers moved a little absently, feeling your softness and angles. “Thanks,” he said suddenly.

“Hmm? For what?” you asked, looking over at him and catching his eyes for a moment before he ducked his head and shrugged.

“For bein’ you and… bein’ the way ya are with me,” he drawled. He didn’t know how to voice that as long as he’d known you, every little touch you gave him, innocent or maybe more, felt like nothing he’d ever felt before, and he found himself craving it, craving you. But he’d never known for sure, beyond the doubt instilled in him, if it was one-sided or not. Now, he knew.

"You don't have to thank me. You deserve to feel wanted, Daryl. You are." You smiled at him and then tucked yourself against him, your head resting under his chin, your hand moving softly on his bare arm, leaving tingles in its wake. The last light of the sun disappeared and was replaced with the cool glow of the moon and endless stars, and the two of you soaked in each other. Daryl seemed more confident as the minutes passed and drank you in, slowly touch-starved no longer and hoping he would never be again.

[sleepyangelkami]

SICKENED d.dixon

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 2.1K

DARYL DIXON X FEM!READER

 ☆ SUMMARY - when you don't show up to your lunch date with daryl, he suspects somethings wrong and makes his way across the commonwealth, only to find you sprawled out in your bed, temperature high.

 ☆ WARNINGS - fever, mentions of being sick, emetophobia, vomit, throwing up, daryl is mentioned to be quite a big older than reader, reader is mentioned to have hair, mention of anxiety, (1) use of y/n, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

daryl dixon was something of a fearless warrior, and also a fearful worrier.

you liked the commonwealth, as much as one could when filled with the doubtful thoughts that whoever was in charge, would soon betray your people. when you got to the commonwealth, daryl was the one who seemed most worried. you were worried too, until you tasted the cotton candy they had to offer and you were sure this was a good place.

daryl became a trooper while you worked at the bakery, alongside your good friend carol. carol was possibly one of the best workers in there. you liked to think that your baked treats were nice but nothing could ever compare to carol’s sugar cookies. 

with you and carol being so close, she knew you and daryl had been itching to spend more time together. while you could enjoy the commonwealth as much as your ability would allow you to, you couldn’t deny the fact that you missed daryl. it seemed as though he was always working, always picking up shifts or being given them by the governors son. 

for some reason, he threw tasks at him like he had something to prove.

nonetheless, daryl worked tirelessly and endlessly until finally, he got a day off.

the kids would be in school until three, so you both decided that it was finally time for you guys to spend some time together, just the two of you.

you’d walked into the bakery two days early, grinning from ear to ear though carol was already changing your shifts, putting her on yours so you’d get the day off. when you’d stared at her with an open mouth, she’d only winked. “daryl told me.” she’d shrugged.

everything had fallen into place smoothly.

daryl was old enough, much older than you, he’d been on plenty dates before and he’d been with you for what felt like forever.

yet he still couldn’t stop the nerves from swarming in his stomach.

he’d arrived to the caffé early, at least he thought he was early seeing as you were nowhere to be seen.

then a couple moments went by, one of the workers walked himself outside to where he was sitting, asking him if he was ready to order.

daryl suddenly felt worry eat at his stomach, and it was nothing like the nerves from before. there was pre-apocalyptic nerves like taking your girlfriend out on a date and then there was the post-apocalyptic nerves, the sullen worry that something had gone terribly wrong.

he cleared his throat, glancing at the menu in front of him. “‘m waiting for someone.” he gruffed out to which the waiter smiled.

the man had a cloth draped across his arm, looking sufficient as ever. daryl thought he looked stupid. “right. take your time.” 

though it appeared to be you that was taking your time.

daryl worried easily. perhaps it was due to how many people he’s lost. perhaps it was because nowadays, it seemed like you were the only one that truly mattered to him anymore. nonetheless, he barely waited a half hour before slinging back on his sleeveless leather jacket, face screwed up as his boot covered feet found themselves stalking across the town.

he owned a little apartment, one that had rather noisy neighbours. you owned a large, three bedroom house, always inviting daryl and the kids over. truth be told, the kids rathered your house than they did his little apartment.

daryl didn’t know how he ended up standing in front of your house so quickly but he didn’t bother to try recall his events, instead, he brought his fist up to the grey door, knocking down on it harshly.

he received no answer.

worry ate him from the inside.

you were fine, you were fine. you had to be fine.

as fine as you may have been, it didn’t stop him from applying his body weight on the door, shoving it open. he watched as your lock fell broken on the ground, pursing his lips and making a mental note to buy you another.

the common wealth was strange and so was having to worry about money again.

the man found himself walking up your stairs. he called out your name once, then twice. 

he received no answer. 

it wasn’t until he stood in front of your bedroom door, creaking it open when he felt slight relief.

he could make out the strands of your hair that sat atop your baby pink pillow. he walked further into the room, your curtains were still closed. then, he could make out the way your brows had strewn themselves together.

your face looked uncomfortable.

he wasted no time in waking you. “baby, get up.” his large hands were placed on your smaller body, gently rocking your body. it was unlikely for you to be sleeping this late, you were the kind of girl that went to bed early and rose the same. 

you woke with an uncomfortable noise leaving your lips, a type of whimper as you screwed your eyes shut.

“wh’s wrong, hm?” instead of being angry that you missed your date, he instead sat himself on the bed, fingers brushing away the strands of your hair. his brows furrowed when he placed the back of his hand on your forehead, feeling the scorching skin. “you’re burnin’ up.” 

you offered up to response to that. “what time is it?” your voice was scratchy and broken, blinking heavily and slowly as you tried to rise from the bed. 

instead of helping you up, he practically forced your body back down to the bed. “why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” 

your lips turned into a type of pout. “did i miss our date?” you’d been looking forward to it for ages.

“no matter about lunch.” he waved you off, focusing on the more important task at hand. “how long you been feelin’ like this, sweetheart?” the way his tone seemed to rest so gently was enough for your insides to feel almost warm.

you shrugged your shoulders, feeling drowsy as ever. “a day… i think.”

a sigh left his lips. he’d been so preoccupied with his new job that he’d hardly had time for anything anymore. I mean, it was you who was getting judith and rj up in the morning, making sure they were dressed and ready for school. by the time he woke, you’d have them off and made his breakfast. 

“daryl…” his eyes snapped back to you, ridding his thoughts. “i don’t feel so good.” 

and there it was.

the sick-anxiety.

“okay, let’s get you sat up.” he helped you into a seated position beneath the blankets, your brows were scrunched together, eyes weary. 

he knew how anxious you got when it came to being ill, that was why he was thankful you never did. 

“how’s the stomach, huh? not feelin’ good?” you only shook your head at him, eyes beginning to sting. “okay, that’s okay, jus’ relax f’me.” 

your eyes were slightly wide and watery as they followed his movements. he crossed the room, grasping the bin that sat by your door. he glanced inside, taking out the single piece of plastic and placing it on the desk as a later problem. 

now that the bin was empty, he manoeuvred it towards the bed. 

“think you’re gonna be sick?” you looked a little green but shook your head nonetheless. he nodded before peeling the blankets back, sitting his body next to your own. sick and all, all he’d ever want is to be close to you. “why didn’t you tell me? could’a helped.” 

you shrugged your shoulders, placing your head against his strong arm. “i missed the date.” you spoke all pouty. 

he couldn’t help the way his lips quirked up. even in your own sickness, all you worried about was that damned date. “‘s just lunch, darlin’.” placing your hair behind your ear. “can get it any day.” 

in attempts to not look too bummed out, you glanced down to his hand which he’d interlinked with yours. “not with your job.” 

he caught on to the sadness etched in your voice right away. he cleared his throat. “‘s just for a little longer, promise.” 

it took a couple moments for your breathing to become slightly shallow. his eyes traced over you gently, waiting for any sudden movements. even though your mouth hadn’t so much as opened, his hand was still inching towards the bin that sat at the edge of the bed. “daryl.” your voice sounded much more broken than before. “‘m gonna…”

he didn’t need to be told twice.

skillfully, the man grabbed the bucket before your sentence could even finish. he placed it on the bed before you, helping your head hover over it as you emptied the contents of your stomach into the bin. he heard you half cry while throwing up, and he shushed you quietly.

“‘s okay, you’re okay.” while you held the bin, he used one hand to gather your hair, keeping it away from the sick bucket while the other hand rubbed gently up and down your back. “doin’ so good.” you could barely hear him now. his words were muffled and fell against deaf ears as you focused everything on finishing.

he waited until your head rose from the bin before taking it from your grasp, shushing you and helping you towards the bathroom.

sooner or later, he ended up flushing the contents down the toilet, using pieces of kitchen paper and antibacterial spray to wash the bin out while you brushed your teeth.

he’d been praising you the entire way while you stayed silent, sniffling.

it was no secret that the anxiety was eating you from the inside out. he knew this was the hardest part, though. the first time is always the worst but hopefully it was only a bug and it would subside in a couple hours. 

once you finished with your teeth, placing the toothbrush against the counter, you turned back to the man. he simply gave you a look of sympathy. “c’mere.” 

and you didn’t have to be told twice.

you kept your head hidden in his arms, letting the fat tears fall against your cheeks. you felt so stupid for crying, it only made you cry more. and that caused daryl to shush you. “It’s okay, it’s all over, baby.” though it mightn’t have been, he still chose to keep the positivity. he didn’t judge you for the way you cried like a downright baby, instead, his hands moved to gently caress you, lips pressing kisses against the crown of your head and sweet nothings falling from his lips. “did so good, my brave girl.” and hearing his words did help, it lulled you in a way that beat the anxiety that crawled up your throat.

he waited until you’d calmed down a little before tucking you back into bed.

it didn’t take long for sleep to succumb over you then. he sat with you for many moments after that, gently playing with the loose strands of your hair and not the ones that were stuck to your face.

with the fever that you had, he assumed a headache would only follow.

deciding to be careful enough not to wake you, he crawled out of the bed to grab you some aspirin, knowing you’d need it by the time you woke.

and he was right.

as soon as your eyes had peeled themselves open, you were whining. he couldn’t help but smile at you, such a whiner. but it was okay, because you had him to shush you and coo at you, telling you everything would be alright. 

after your relentless whines, he reached over to the television, grasping the remote and switching it on. “what’re we watching?” you asked, yawning to yourself. today had been a long day, and you hadn’t even made it out of bed.

daryl was thankful that carol was taking the kids after school and keeping them for the night. while it was supposed to be for other reasons, he was still glad that he could spend the time with you, even if you were sweating like a pig. “what do you wanna watch?” 

“you pick.” nuzzling into him even further. 

it was as if his touch could heal all. he still found himself chuckling. “you’re letting me pick? maybe i like sick y/n even more than the better one.”

you tried not to frown. “don’t be mean.”

daryl only laughed to himself, gently pressing a kiss against the frown of your head. “‘m sorry.” now you found yourself rolling your eyes. “your forehead’s still hot.” he commented, lips pressed into a thin line. “we gotta do somethin’ to bring down that temperature.”

you furrowed your brows, looking up at him with doey eyes. “how?” 

he ripped the blankets from your body.

“hey!”

main masterlist/daryl's masterlist

[sinsandsweetness]

congrats on 1k babes!!!

i'm pickin a lil drabble, hyperfem reader and daryl? i just love that lol dynamic they're so opposite 💕

cw- mentions of blood/injury (not towards the reader)

When he walks in the house, he’s hit with the smell of something sweet. Marshmallows and pecans or something or other. The wick of the candle is still glowing when he walks over to the coffee table and puts it out. Very confused that you haven’t answered. He calls out a hello once more.

Still no answer.

He figures you’re just busy. Out with Rosita or maybe at Ricks, looking after Judith. But it was unlike you to leave a candle burning.

He’s only two steps from the bedroom when he hears it. Footsteps.

Lots of them. Shuffling on the shag carpet. He slowly draws his knife and carefully opens the door. Just enough to see inside the bedroom.

It’s only you. His shoulders immediately relax and his arm falls to his side. Retracting the blade back where it belongs.

You have headphones on. Huge ones with a cord attached to an iPod sticking out the back pocket of your denim skirt. You’re dancing. Not just a little head nod. No. You’re fully rocking out. Hips swaying as you jump up and down, humming along to who knows what Rick downloaded onto your iPod. And you still haven’t noticed your audience.

He can’t help but smile. Leaning up against the doorframe. Watching you move. Your hips. Your waist. Your arms going above your head as you spin yourself around.

He looks around the room and finds it a damn mess. Clothes are everywhere. Hangers on the bed. Makeup bag poured out on the dresser. Daryl shakes his head with a huff of amusent. He leaves you alone for two days…

“Oh shit!” You physically jump back when you finally see him. Heart rate skyrocketing before you realize the dark haired man is just your boyfriend. Dressed in full leather. Dirty and bloody with a brand new shiner on his eye and a busted up lip.

“You scared me,” you whine, pulling your headphones down and around your neck. Placing a hand on your heart as you regain your breath. Trying to calm your racing heartbeat down.

He chuckles, licking his bloodied lips and moving to join you. He settles right in front of you as you lean back on the dresser. One hand going to your hip, the other tucking some hair out of your face.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to.” He gives you a sweet smile as he nudged a denim clad thigh between your legs.

“Dare… your face…”

“Huh? Oh- s’ nothin,”

Your brows pull together in an disapproving scowl.

“Daryl, those stitches were fresh. I did a really good job and you split ‘em already. It hasn’t even been a week.” Your voice is both full of concern and irritation. You’d finally perfected your sutures after hours of practice with Denise. You let the man leave the walls for two days and bam. His handsome face is fucked. Again.

“I know, m’ sorry.”

You pause for a moment. Hands going to fidget with the zipper of his jacket.

“Well?” You ask, irritated.

His own face sets in confusion.

“The other guy…?”

“Oh- uh,” he shakes his head, “you don’t wanna know, baby.”

You gently bring a hand up to his face, the soft pad of your thumb running over his lip. He doesn’t mean to flinch when you brush the part where his skin has split, all red and swollen.

“Tell me,” you whisper, leaning in and pressing a sweet, gentle kiss to his busted lip. Wishing it was that easy, that you could heal him with a simple token of love.

He lets out a deep sigh and closes his eyes. Pressing his forehead against yours, rough hands tightening their hold on your waist.

“It’s over. Doesn’t matter.”

You nod hesitantly. Wrapping your arms around his waist, underneath his jacket. His torso is warm against your touch.

“Are you okay?” Your voice is soft. Genuine.

He moves to kiss the top of your head, and pulls you into his chest. The clean perfume of your shampoo envelops his senses, and he wants nothing more than to breath you in and hold you close for the next 48 hours.

“I am now.”

[emeline2020]

Keeping Guard - D.DIXON

DESC: You and Daryl have been together for a few years now, and currently live together in the Commonwealth with Judith and RJ. After a long days work as a soldier, Daryl just can’t seem to fall asleep.

CONTAINS: no smut, fluff, mild kissing -

SEASON 11

“I can feel your eyes on my back, Dixon.” You groan softly, tiredness consuming you. You faced away from him on the bed, lying on your side.

You could hear Daryl scoff, a hint of laughter within the noise he made. You turned your head a bit, glancing at him in the dark. He sat against the headboard of the bed with one knee up, his arm resting on it. It took your eyes a second to adjust, but before long you saw his shirtless chest, scars and tattoos scattered on his skin.

“Go back to sleep.” He whispered, his raspy voice causing your heart to beat a few extra times per minute.

“Why aren’t you asleep?” You asked, turning fully to face him, your side still against the mattress. He sighed, his bare chest rising as he looked away from you.

“Jus’.. wanna make sure you’re sleepin’ okay.” He said, turning to face you again. Usually, you could tell when Daryl was lying about something. About his reasoning for doing something, anything. But this time, you really couldn’t tell.

“I would be sleeping a lot better if you would get some, too.” You said softly, tilting your head at him from your pillow. He didn’t say anything, just stared at you for a few more seconds. He always stared at you that way. Like you were everything special on earth.

“Please?” You whispered again, pulling the blankets up and giving him space to crawl next to you under the covers.

He took a second to consider it. Consider dropping his guard to sleep next to you. He didn’t consider it for long, before shuffling downwards, moving away from the headboard of the bed. You smiled happily as he reached a muscular arm around you, holding onto your left hip and turning you back around. You laughed softly as he flipped you.

“Why do you always insist on being the big spoon?” You asked, a bit of laughter still flowing through your voice.

“Ya wanna be the big spoon? Ya can’t spoon someone twice yer size..” He grunted, wrapping his arms around your abdomen, his calloused finger tips gently traversing your stomach until his hands reached each other around your body.

“Stop boosting your own ego. Ya know you’re not twice my size.” You grunted, getting slightly frustrated with his comments. He made a noise, clearly disapproving of your comment. You squirmed slightly in his grasp, moving to get comfortable. Daryl held you against his body, his chest on your back and his breath on your neck.

“Stop movin’ so much.” He grunted, his hot breath sending tingles down your neck. His voice sounded frustrated, but you could practically feel the smirk on his face as he held you tightly. He had a liking for getting under your skin.

“You’re holding me like your gonna give me the heimlich,” You complained despite the butterflies swirling in your stomach. You reached down to try and pull at his arms in a failed attempt to losen them. He just gripped you tighter, his muscles bulging against your skin.

You let out a sigh in defeat, allowing him to clutch to you the way he was. Your arms dropped at your sides, moving closer to his body for more comfort. You could hear him chuckle gently, his breath hitting the back of your ear.

You went to shoot out something snarky, but as soon as you opened your lips Daryl shifted slightly, moving you up by your waist so your back was now against his upper chest. He placed a long, soft kiss on your neck.

You hummed gently, still feeling annoyed with him but not exactly annoyed enough to stop him from what he was doing.

He let out another amused breath, before continuing to kiss your neck, his lips pecking your skin.

His right hand moved over onto your hip, while his left still rested against your stomache. He moved his thumb gently in circles on your hip, still kissing at the skin on your neck.

“So fuckin’ perfect..” He whispered into your skin as he continued to place pecks all over your neck, deepening them slightly. He knew you didn’t like when he complimented you, because you never knew what to say back. He assured you that you didn’t have to respond at all, he simply just wanted you to know how much he loved you.

But that just sounded like a shitty excuse for the way he would fluster you with his words.

You hummed again, but this time it sounded more like a moan as his lips wet your skin.

“Okay, okay, go to bed, Dixon.” You scolded him a bit, playfulness in your tone.

“Fine, fine… Love you.” He said, kissing the space beneath your ear on the beginning of your jaw bone one last time.

“Love you too.”

[mrdixon]

Slow mornings

pairing: established daryl x f!reader

wc: 1k (WOW)

warnings: mention of sexual content (very suggestive oohhhhrrr)

summary: the morning after, he cant get enough.

A/N: HI IM WRITING A SERIES DONT FRET and i just wrote this because i woke up and thought of him. also i was like so ready to post this and then SCREAMED because i forgot to make a gif.

masterlist

You scrunched your face up feeling the warm Virginian sun on your skin, squeezing your eyes shut as you rolled over onto your side. Once your eyes adjusted to the bright light you looked over and saw your boyfriend, laying on his stomach asleep.

It was a bit of a shock to see him still in bed next to you, usually he'd wake up early and be up and about. You couldn't blame him for sleeping in though, after your night of pure, rough passion. You shivered remembering his skin on yours, the ghost of his lips still lingering on your neck.

You tucked your arm underneath your head, watching his sleeping face. His lips parted a little and you could hear soft breathing from him, his hair messily resting over his eyes. You reached forward, gently brushing the strands of hair out of his face. He grumbled low in his throat, keeping his eyes closed as he threw an arm over your waist, dragging you closer to him. You sighed quietly, wrapping your arm around his head and burying his face in your neck to which he accepted with zero resistance. His lips started to slowly pepper kisses along your throat, brushing over the marks he left the night prior, sending shivers down your spine as your hand closed in on his hair gently.

“Morning to you,” you murmured softly which earned a grunt from him. His hand roamed behind you, his nails tracing over the curve of your back, goosebumps rising on your skin. The kisses on your neck became more urgent, pressing his lips hard against your flesh and taking a deep breath.

“Mornin’,” he muttered against your neck. Nibbling one of the hickeys on your collarbone before pulling back slightly to look at your face, his hand retracting a bit to thumb at the side of your breast. He chuckled at your appearance, hair still messy, your eyes tired. “Ya look beautiful like this.” He ran his fingers through your hair, getting caught in a few tangles on the way down, leaning in to peck your lips.

You kissed him back tenderly, softly. His hand stilled at the back of your head as he groaned into the kiss, pulling back before burying his face in your neck once again.

“We should get up soon…” you mumbled while giggling, a soft sigh leaving your mouth when he dragged his tongue along the marks on your neck. He pinched your waist playfully, biting the area where your neck met your shoulder.

“Don’ wanna get up,” he grumbled, kissing your chin. You laughed, catching his lips with your own before pulling back, his chin resting on your chest as he looked up at you.

“Fine, five more minutes.” You grinned, your hand tickling the side of his face to which he swatted away. He grabbed your waist, flipping you both over so you were on top of him.

“Make it half an hour,” he whispered, pulling you closer so he could press his face into your breasts. You giggled lightly, tugging his hair and pulling him away.

“We have work to do, wouldn’t want Michonne up our asses huh?” You pointed out to which he scoffed, shoving his face back in your breasts.

“Wouldn’ mind if it meant I got to be inside you again,” he said, muffled. You smacked his head lightly, “hey. I got needs woman.”

“Sure you do,” you sighed dreamily. As much as you wanted to continue this, you had to do some work. Muttering an apology you started to get off of him, but you didn’t get far before he pulled you back on top of him, his big arms wrapped around your back.

“Wha’ do I gotta do to convince ya?” He murmured almost pathetically, but you knew better than to point out his tone of voice. You looked down at him, meeting his captivating blue eyes, ones that begged you to stay in bed for awhile longer. He bit his lip once you didn’t respond, leaning in to nuzzle your cheek with his nose. Kissing your jaw gently as his hands rubbed your lower back, his eyes remaining on yours. “Please? (Y/N)…”

You stroked the side of his face, rubbing his stubble with your thumb. He was being so needy all of a sudden, he usually wasn’t. You placed your palm on his jaw, tilting his head up and leaning down to place a light kiss on his lips. As you pulled away he chased after your lips slightly, his shoulders drooping. How cute.

“(Y/N)…” he mumbled, grabbing your wrist and rubbing it. “Let me in ya…” You sighed, leaning down to kiss his forehead.

“No,” you whispered gently, earning a loud grunt from him. He bit your neck quite harshly, a yelp escaping you.

“Please…” he whispered, now kissing over the bite he just gave you, massaging your lower back. His hand moving to cup your ass, his breath shaky. “I’ll do anythin’… Just let me have ya..”

You smirked, running your fingers through his messy hair and tugging his head back. “Anything?” You grinned to which he nodded eagerly, you leaned down to kiss his lips. His hands on your sides, caressing the sides of your breasts while his tongue fought with yours.

He tried to flip you both over at one point but you held your ground, biting his bottom lip which made him groan deeply into your mouth. You rocked your hips against his teasingly, his hands slowly inching over to cup your breasts, but you swatted them away.

“Okay fine, we can stay in for a bit. But I’m on top.” You grinned to which he rolled his eyes, nodding reluctantly.

“Fine ya little minx.” He grunted playfully, shivering when your nails tickled down his back.

“15 minutes… that’s it,” you whispered above his lips, his breath mingling with yours. He groaned, rolling his eyes.

He grumbled, pressing his lips to yours and pulling you down onto him. “Nah, 30 minutes. ‘s a slow mornin’.”