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#daryl x reader
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Daryl Dixon’s little girl, the sweetest little girl in all of Alexandria.
If you had told him years ago, that he’d be starting his own family, he probably would have cussed you out. Now, he doesn’t even remember the last time that he was able to properly see the floor.
There was quite literally nothing that kill the undying love he had for his daughter, no matter whatever snarky disapproval was thrown at him, there was nothing at all that made him happier then being a father, a husband.
He would do anything for his girls even if that meant handing you his very last fucking heartbeat, there’s nothing that Daryl Dixon wouldn’t do for his family.
。・:*:・゚★
。・:*:・゚☆
。・:*:・゚★
I haven’t stopped thinking about daddy daryl and I hope this isnt like baby fever or something bc truth be told I absolutely fucking hate kids so 🎀
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fluffy-dixon · 2 days
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Imagine a protective Daryl. Warnings: Persuasive language, awkwardness and uncomfortable, Angst, attempted SA.
Spencer was trying his absolute hardest to convince you to come over. He invaded your personal space, touching your arm and even trying to caress your face in a slimy attempt at persuasion. "Come on doll, let me treat you just for one night," he purred, his voice dripping with false charm.
"No really, I'm good." you recoiled, replying in a firm, negative tone. Undeterred Spencer pressed further.
"Please sweetie? You know you want to, I can show you a great time." He winked lasciviously, sticking his tongue out the side of his mouth in a vulgar manner.
"Leave me alone, I said no!" Panic rising in your chest, you raised your voice slightly, hoping someone would overhear and intervene. Spencer had managed to corner you between his arms, crowding your body in a predatory stance.
"Oh come on now, what else have you got planned-" he started, but was cut off as Daryl Dixon suddenly rushed past in a blur.
Daryl pushed you safely behind him with one hand while punching Spencer squarely in the face with the other. You heard the satisfying smack of his fist making contact. Spencer crumpled to the floor with a grunt.
"She said no and if you EVER come near her again, lay a finger on her, speak to her or EVEN look at her in the wrong way - I'll kill'ya" Daryl growled through gritted teeth, grabbing Spencer by the scruff of his neck and glaring into his eyes from just inches away. After a few tense moments, he dropped Spencer's limp body and turned to you pulling you protectively into his arms and away from the ball of mess on the floor.
"You okay baby?" His voice gravelly and rough.
"Yeah, that was kinda hot though"
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dixons-sunshine · 2 days
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daryl and wife reader having a mini 3 year old daryl and shes sassy like her mama also shes really smart and daryl just being the best father and husband to be ❤️❤️
Daddy's Little Girl | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
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*GIF isn't mine*
Summary: Life in your little home in Alexandria was amazing. You had a wonderful husband and a beautiful daughter you couldn't be more proud of, especially since she brings out parts of your husband you couldn't help but admire.
Genre: Fluff
Era: Alexandria, post Saviour war, post the building of the bridge
Warnings: None.
Word count: 965
A/n: This sucks so bad. I didn't really know where to go with this and scrapped so many attempts, so I'm sorry for the bad quality. I hope this is still somewhat enjoyable at least.
Rick never went missing in this because I'm in my feels after seeing him look for a gift for RJ.
It's not a major plot point, but there are mentions of Rick in this. Also, my default name for any fics involving Daryl having a daughter will be Hazel because I've grown to love the nickname I came up with for my last Dad!Daryl fic, which is Hazelnut.
As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests, as well as Scud Frohmeyer requests.
“No, Daddy. You can't.”
“'Course I can,” Daryl retorted playfully, taking the purple crayon from his daughter's hand. “Yer not even usin' the crayon, Hazelnut. Yer jus' holdin' it while yer colourin' with the red crayon. I need the purple more than ya do righ' now.”
Hazel huffed and folded her small arms over her chest, sending Daryl her version of a glare that the archer found absolutely adorable and amusing. “Not fair, Daddy. Gonna use it soon.”
“Until then, I'll use it. Once you need it, jus' ask, alrigh'?” Daryl told her, and chuckled when he saw her huff again and reluctantly continue to draw with the red crayon.
Daryl looked up and locked eyes with you, amused smiles on both of your faces. You were seated on the couch with Dog's head resting on your lap, fixing up one of the archer's favourite shirts while he entertained your daughter as she waited for Michonne to come pick her up for a sleepover with RJ. Daryl looked back down at his piece of paper and continued on with his drawing while you continued on with fixing up his shirt.
You silently listened to Hazel's happy babbling, smiling fondly at the father and daughter duo drawing stick figures and shapes. Suddenly, Hazel huffed again and threw the crayon down in frustration, crossing her arms over her chest.
“What's wrong, baby?” you asked, glancing at your daughter.
“I don't want to draw anymore,” she declared, crawling over to Daryl and clambering into his lap for a hug.
Daryl instantly dropped the crayon in his hand and embraced her, pulling her into his chest. Hazel nuzzled her face into his neck, giggling at the kisses Daryl placed on her face.
“It tickles, Daddy,” she giggled, bringing her small hands up to his stubble.
Daryl smiled and abruptly stood up with Hazel in his arms, eliciting a yelp of surprise from her that was quickly followed by more laughter. Daryl spun her around while placing more playful kisses all over her face, careful not to drop her. Dog jumped up from the couch with a happy bark, circling around Daryl as he wagged his tail happily.
You laughed at the shrieks of laughter that fell from your daughter's mouth. “Don't drop her, Daryl,” you warned him when he stumbled slightly. You turned your head when you heard a knock on the door.
“Never,” Daryl replied, placing one final kiss on Hazel's cheek before placing her down on the floor. He ruffled her hair before stalking over to the door, you getting up from the couch and trailing behind him.
Daryl opened the door and the two of you came face to face with Michonne, who had RJ perched on her hip. She smiled at the two of you in greeting, rubbing RJ's back soothingly.
“Hey, guys. Is she ready to go?”
Daryl hummed and turned around, calling out to Hazel. “Hazelnut! Auntie Michonne's here!”
You grabbed the sleepover bag that you had placed near the door earlier that day and handed it over to Michonne. Hazel's footsteps got louder until she ran up to you, hugging you before hugging Daryl. She then turned to Michonne and took her outstretched hand.
“Bye, Mama. Bye, Daddy.”
“Bye, sweetheart. Be good for Michonne and Rick, okay?” you greeted her.
She nodded and took off with Michonne, happily conversing with RJ while they walked. You closed the door and locked it, turning around to face Daryl. The archer smiled at you and pulled you into his arms, hugging you tightly.
You were confused but soon hugged him back, nuzzling your face into his chest. Daryl placed a soft kiss on the top of your head before resting his chin there, slightly rocking you side to side.
“Not that I'm complaining in the slightest,” you mumbled, pressing a kiss against his chest. “But what's with the hug?”
Daryl remained silent for a moment. “S'jus' 'cause I love ya. And I can't believe how lucky I am to have ya and Hazel in my life.”
“Well, believe it, Dixon. I love you so much. So does daddy's little girl,” you replied, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips.
“I love ya both too. Yer the most important people in my life. I'd die fer ya.”
“Hopefully it never comes down to that. You're dying a very old man if I can help it,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck.
Daryl wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “Dun' worry. I ain't plannin' on dyin' on ya anytime soon.”
You smiled at him. “Good to know. That's really good to know.”
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norman-fucking-reedus · 20 hours
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Guys I’m thinking about Rick and Daryl fighting, like Daryl is definitely a professional little brother and spends all day wrecking havoc upon Rick (and maybe a few others)
also I know Daryl is a hardcore hair puller. In the bed and in fights. When he and Merle would fight, it was like a second nature for his hands to latch onto to curly hair, yanking the strands and on one occasion knocking his head into a wall
me when rickyl but also brotherhood
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
On the outside, Daryl Dixon was quiet, dark, and mysterious. He was a dusty book that had been closed and locked tight for decades, never opening up no matter who or what tried to pry. Most people would think that he was just one of the ones that never expressed any type of concern or emotion, but really, Daryl’s just a silent person. Until someone he knows pops into the picture.
“Get tha’ fuck off me! Get tha’ fuck off of me!” His voice rang out through the community alongside side Dogs chaotic barking.
People rushed out of their homes at what they thought were very distressed cries, Carol’s bow loaded and almost aimmed as he stepped out onto hers, only frowning deeply when she saw what all the ruckus was.
Daryl and Rick were wrestling in the dirt, the huntersman pinned down underneath the officer in a very uncomfortable looking position. Dog was barking at the two of them, tail wagging in the air as he stood in a playful position, standing over his defeated owner.
“Blah blah blah. You’re just a sore fucking loser” Rick laughed at him, pointing a finger in Daryl’s face, and pulling it away when his sharp teeth clamped down. “Gon’ make mah dog eat you alive” The man grumbled and squirmed.
“Gonna make the walkers eat you both alive” You sighed from where you had approached behind Rick, Dog now eagerly lapping and jumping around you as you too stood over your defeated hunter. “Seriously?” You shook your head and pushed Rick off the man, watching the way he dramatically fell over. “He started it! I was bein’ nice” Daryl frowns, and so does Rick, sitting up to face Daryl who had childishly wrapped himself around your leg. “Nuh uh, no! This asshole tried sticking mud down my pants!” Daryl cackled at the sentence and you knew he was gulity.
“You two are grown ass men” You huffed, shaking your leg slightly only for Daryl’s to tighten his grip. Absolutely wonderful.
“He needs to be put in time out” Rick grumbled, and you wondered if you were getting paid for this. “Time out?”
“Time out?” Carol approached, bow and arrow no longer in hand.
Daryl pointed at Rick, while Rick pointed at him, both men staring daggers at each other. “Him! He fucking started this!”
You share a look with Carol as the men bicker, and it’s quite funny untill you feel a sudden emptiness at your leg, and Daryl is hurling a ball of mud at Rick, who unfortunately catches it with his face. “Now I can really call ya ‘shitface grimes’” Daryl laughed as he climbed to his feet, standing behind you as Rick wiped his eyes clear, immediately locking them on his target.
Daryl doesn’t wanna admit that he didn’t think Rick would just go right around you, yelling when the officer took a swipe at him. “Stop it yew shit eater!” Daryl ran away with Rick hot on his heels, Dog sprinting right alongside them and barking excitedly.
“Can you imagine a small mini version of all that?” You shake your head, smiling softly at Carol. “You have got quite the character on your hands. Clinging to your leg? He must love you” You laughed, peering up the street where they had run off too, a cloud of dirt forming as they tussled, and from Daryl’s very loud screams he was probably getting what he deserved. “Dealing with him? He better love me” You scoff, knowing that your giant manchild loves you more than life itself.
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
Each press of the cotton to his skin makes him hiss, and he winces at the burning sting of alcohol. “No more fights” You frown softly, tilting Daryl’s head as you cleaned his wounds, gingerly placing bandaids over them. “But he-“ “Yes I know he started it, he also finished it” Daryl pouts, legs swinging off the countertop. You stick a bandage over his nose, and kiss his forehead. “All better. I want you in this house before it’s too dark, okay?” Daryl drops onto his feet, and plants a quick but eager kiss on your lips. “Yes mama” He tosses over his shoulder as he snatches his crossbow off the floor, barreling out the door with Dog. You watched them go, a smile tugging your lips. It faded at the sound of a Rick’s high pitched scream.
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
looks around because I dont know what happened and because I really like childish Daryl now and wanna write more
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star-wrote · 2 days
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Daryl and reader’s first summer together ? Mood board or headcanon or whatever you like babes 😏🫶 I picture they’ve been together for the fall and a very long harsh winter, and the summer comes around and readers energy just starts to burst in response to the warmth and sunlight, and how that might look for them as a couple 🌻💛😁
Summer Lovin’
Characters: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader | Pre-Prison Era/After Farm Fell
A/N: tysm for the request love !! i adored writing this <3 also i’ve found that i struggle with staying in tenses so this switches from past to present tense :/ whoops
Warnings: typical TWD violence, poor mental health, fluff, angst
Word Count: 750
not my character | images from pinterest
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Winter in the apocalypse sucks.
The group had been on the road for months now, grieving the loss of the Greene Farm; the loss of safety. Which also means the group was going through the harsh winter without a whole lot of warmth. Abandoned shacks and small campfires can only do so much.
You had been cold for too long, and you were sure that Daryl had grown annoyed with you complaining about your frozen toes when you huddled up against him at night.
Worst of all was your mental health. Obviously there’s always an air of depression, (it is the end of the world) but your thoughts were getting dangerously close to “hey let’s jump off that bridge!”
You didn’t want to burden Daryl, but after his gentle prying, you reluctantly agreed to tell him your thoughts. He did his best to reassure you, and he held you a little tighter that night.
Finally, the group had found the prison, a place that could be a forever home after the walkers get cleared. The weather had warmed up too over the last few weeks, and it was finally starting to feel like summer.
It was a pretty calm day, most of the group decided to relax for a day outside before trying to get into the prison. You recall passing a pond not too far from the prison walls. Deciding it was warm enough for a swim, you grabbed a blanket and your knife.
“Where are ya goin’ with that?” Daryl stepped in front of you, nodding at the stuff in your hands.
“Swimming. Wanna come with? I need a bodyguard.” You suggest while smiling up at him.
He grunts out what you have come to know as “yes,” and grabs his crossbow. “Ya sure it’s warm enough?”
You shrug. “Don’t care, I’ve waited long enough.”
He must’ve read your mind because he leads you out past the walls and to the pond that you saw while traveling with the group. You both quickly survey the area for walkers, feeling relieved after there seem to be none.
You strip down to your underwear and toss a smirk over your shoulder to a blushing Daryl, then giggle and wade your way into the pond.
Taking a moment to pause, you admire the sun reflecting off the water. You felt so happy in the warmth of the sun that you could cry.
Daryl watches from a distance, smiling at the peace and happiness that seems to be radiating off of you. He knew you had a tough time on the road during the winter. He was worried about you, but now he’s just glad that you’re smiling.
You swim and float around the pond for about thirty minutes, and then decide that you want to lay on the grass to dry off in the sun. You sigh as the warm grass envelops you.
“Come join me?” You smiled up at Daryl who was sat on a rock.
“Thought I was yer bodyguard.” He said while walking over to you anyway. He found out a long time ago that he couldn’t handle denying you anything.
You giggle as he groans as he lays down next to you. You start to cuddle into him but he gently shoves you away.
“Yer soakin’ like a wet dog righ’ now, dry off first.”
You roll your eyes with a smile, but comply. While putting on your t-shirt, you spot a patch of wildflowers and gasp. You run over to them.
This makes Daryl sit up immediately and grab his knife, anxiety filling his veins. He then sees that you found flowers and relaxes.
Walking over to you, he scoffs. “Scared me half to death, girl.”
While you were smelling the flowers, Daryl crouched down and picked one. He gently moved your hair out of your face and tucked the flower behind your ear. You blush and kiss his cheek.
“I’m glad yer feelin’ better. Was worried ‘bout ya.” He looked away for a moment, then back into your eyes. “Don’t know what I’d do without ya.”
You felt your heart flutter. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
You hugged him tight and stayed like that for a while. You started to hum a song and swayed in his arms.
Daryl scoffs and loosens up so you can sway his body for him. “Whatcha doin’ girl?”
“Dancing with you, duh.”
He smiles and tucks his head into your hair. “Please never stop bein’ you, sunshine.”
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darylsdelts · 15 hours
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Hi, how are you?? Would it be alright to request a drabble where Daryl and his partner keep trying to have some alone time between their jobs in the Commonwealth but keep getting interrupted by Judith, RJ and Dog? And when things get hot and heavy at night, one of the kids has a nightmare and wants to sleep in their bed?
Thank you and take care lovely <3
DarylxFem!Reader
warnings: p in v, poorly written smut.
this is something I think about a lot, tysm for the request!!
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You’d settled into the commonwealth now. In the beginning, it was difficult, you had grown so accustomed to hilltop and being surrounded by people you already knew, and most of all, you were used to being with Daryl all the time. 
Things were different now, Daryl had some big important job that didn’t leave him much alone time, he was surrounded by dumbasses all the time and if you knew Daryl then you knew how much he struggled to push through the days sometimes.
You’re job wasn’t as big as Daryl’s but it was important to you because it helped you feel like part of the community. You worked in the ice cream truck and you loved it, it wasn’t a demanding job, it was simply just scooping ice cream and seeing the smiles on the kids faces when you handed it to them. Daryl had described it as ‘the perfect job for you’. He knew you were capable of so much more but he also knew that his girl deserved a break and he’d be damned if he took your little ice cream job away from you, there was no need to overexert yourself now you were here, so he was just glad you were enjoying yourself, even if he didn’t particularly have the best time at his own job.
You were the one to pick the kids up from school whilst Daryl was the one who ushered the two Grimes’ to get ready quickly in the mornings, since he had to get up early anyways. Daryl rarely got any days off and it was showing, he was becoming short with people, not being hurtful or rude but he was just exhausted and quite frankly just wanted to sleep as soon as he got home which left very little time for the two of you but you understood.
One morning, you woke up from Daryl planting a soft kiss on your forehead. Opening your eyes and staring at him, you were confused. He wasn’t in his gear or in his black attire, he was just wearing his worn black jeans and button down with his leather vest.
“Mornin’, darlin’” he swiped some hair off your face.
Your eyebrows furrow, “why aren’t you- why are you still here?”
Daryl scoffed with a smirk.
“Ouch…” he chuckles, “ain’t got work today, gotta day off to spend wit’ ya”
Instantly, a grin took over your face, reaching your arms out to your partner which he gladly took in his calloused hands and pulled you to sit upright.
“Want ya to get ready… gon’ be just me n you today, okay?”.
God, you love him so much!
“Okay…” you reply with a soft giggle.
Halfway through your shower, you feel a sudden surge of panic.
You rush out of the bathroom to find Daryl sat at the small table in the kitchen area.
“Daryl! Where are the kids?! It’s the weekend!”
Daryl looks up at you and nearly chokes on the water in his mouth when he sees you stood stark naked.
Then he stifles laughter.
“Christ girl… they’re with Carol. Ya really think id just lose em?” He raises his eyebrows and can’t help his eyes from darting between your chest and your face.
“Get back in the damn shower, been in there long enough anyways… hurry up”.
Ten minutes later, you’re dressed and ready to go… wherever Daryl plans on taking you.
Just as you leave the apartment complex, Daryl almost bumps straight into Carol, who was coming the opposite way with RJ in tow, looking teary-eyed.
“Daryl… I’m sorry, I know you had… plans, but RJ’s not feeling so hot and he just keeps asking for you”.
As RJ lets go of Carol’s hand and quickly latches on to Daryl’s, you can hear Daryl sigh.
“Nah… s’alrigh’… thanks Carol”, Daryl ruffles RJ’s hair and then turns back towards the apartment complex, walking in without another word.
Lord knows he’s pissed off, not at RJ, but just at the world but… what’s new?
Once inside, you tell Daryl to go sit down whilst you deal with RJ, tucking him in and giving him some medicine. After he’s all snuggled, you tell him to shout if he needs anything and then you shut the door, making your way to Daryl.
He’s sat in the same chair as earlier, he looks up at you as you stand beside him.
Cupping his face, you lean down to kiss his cheek, “its okay, we can still spend time together inside…”
Daryl forces a smile and nods, you’re always the positive one and he loves you for that but he wanted to do something nice with you today.
You spend the rest of the day taking care of RJ and playing a real old, shitty board game with Daryl (who doesn’t play by the rules) until Judith came home from being Carol’s care all day.
You and Daryl do your job as make shift parents, getting the kids to bed and then the two of you go to bed together. Daryl holds you protectively against his chest and you can sense he’s upset with how the day panned out. And, just to top it off, dog decided to bark at a bird through the window at one AM, causing the entire family to wake up. You offer to be the one to get up, close the damn curtains and get the kids settled again but Daryl being Daryl, is stubborn as hell.
“Shhh... Just go back to sleep, I got it”
You groan inwardly, knowing that your man will be grouchy the next morning.
And boy were you right.
Not being able to treat you to a nice day was pissing Daryl off to high heavens, but that mixed with three hours sleep after having to get two children back to sleep and a dog to stop barking, was a recipe for disaster.
Your man was running himself into the ground and you knew that if you didn’t do something soon, he’d get overwhelmed and most likely have some sort of mental break down. There’s only so much the great loverboy Daryl Dixon can take!
A few days later, you’d managed to work your magic. 
Daryl had the afternoon off and the kids both had sleepovers to attend.
And so did you and Daryl.
Daryl got off from work at two, bursting through the door and practically ripping his gear off. He was stressed.
As soon as he sees you, he walks over to you but just stands in front of you, no advances.
As you look over his face, you notice he looks about ready to cry, so you squeeze his biceps then rub his shoulders, reaching up on your tiptoes to give him a kiss.
His strong hands wrap around your waist and pull you closer, deepening the kiss. He starts to guide you backwards until the back of your knees hit the mattress and your fall onto your back.
Daryl practically growls, he’s HUNGRY and it visible in his eyes.
He lifts you to the centre of the mattress, leaning over you and kissing at your neck, sucking and nibbling as you emit desperate whimpers, you’re both just as needy as each other.
Daryl wants to kiss every part of you but he’s already painfully hard in the confines of his trousers and he’s so fucking pent up he’s afraid that if he keeps up the foreplay, he won’t last much longer.
Standing on his knees, he undoes his pants, pulling them down swiftly, along with his boxers, his impressive length springing free, his tip producing a fat bead of precum.
“Bend over.” Is all he says.
You do as you’re told, of course, getting onto your hands and knees, arching your back and pushing your ass out for your man.
Grabbing the skirt of your dress, he pushes it up to your shoulder blades, making sure its out the way.
He spreads your soft ass cheeks with his calloused hands, running his thumb over the wet spot on your panties.
“Such a good, fucking girl fer me, aint ya?”
You whine as a reply and then he’s pulling your panties to the side, running his thumb through your wet slit then stopping to massage at your clit.
“Please…”, you whimper out.
His hand leaves your pussy, gripping at the base of his cock and guiding it to your folds, pushing in without another warning.
“Fu-uuck… so fucking tight y/n…”
Daryl holds your hips in a grip like a vice, pounding into you from behind whilst he grunts with each thrust. He leans down to kiss your back, his hands leaving your hips to slide up the front of your dress, squeeing your tits.
Daryl’s grunts turn into whimpers as he gets close, but then you both hear the front door open, followed my a chirp voice.
“Uncle Daryl, Aunt y/n…?” Judith’s steps can be heard coming towards the bedroom as she searches for the both of you.
“Ya gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me”, Daryl quickly pulls out, throwing a blanket over you and then roughly pulling up his pants.
“Aye, Jude just- just wait out there, kid!”
So she does, and when Daryl exits the room he’s met with a knowingly raised eyebrow.
“Don’t gimme that, ya ain’t s’posed to be ‘ere”
“I had a nightmare… I wanted to come home”
Daryl expression softens.
“Ya walked back here by yerself, in the dark?”
Judith nods, clearly a little shaken. “Can I sleep in your guys’ bed? Please?”
Daryl sighs but ultimately gives in, making sure you’re decent before leading Jude in.
Daryl was not happy that Judith had walked home by herself in the dark, not telling the adults she was with, but he was less happy about the fact he left you hanging.
But that would have to be solved another time, now Daryl had lost all horniness… almost being walked in on by your ‘kid’ does that to a man, specially when the plant themselves right in the middle of you and your girl.
Judith fell asleep pretty fast between the two of you.
You reached across the sleeping child to squeeze Daryl’s hand, whispering a meaningful “I love you”.
Sure, Daryl was a little down that he couldn’t love on his girl like he wanted to but boy was he lucky, and he was smart enough to see that. He was grateful for his little family, so he returned the gesture. 
“Love ya too, baby”
“Ssssshhh!”
You and Daryl scoffed at Judith’s demand, but followed suit, falling asleep eventually.
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God this felt so rushed! Alsooooo I struggle so much with tense so I’m sorry about that lmfao.
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renren-006 · 2 days
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Sunshine Optimist | Daryl Dixion x fem reader
plot: you were sunshine and he was scared of getting burned.
word count: 1305
a/n: heyyyy here is another daryl story hope you enjoy!
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Daryl was always jealous of your optimism, the way you constantly thought things would get better or that the world wasn't as screwed up as it seemed. 
Every time the group had a bump in the road, you were there, telling everyone that things would turn around; most of the time, you were right, and when you were wrong, Daryl was the only one to remind you of it. You liked him and never let his words hurt you too much, not when you knew he was just hurting. Daryl didn't let many people in, including you, but when he did, you knew it was because of your optimism that he did. 
You were like sunshine in his eyes, and he was afraid of getting burned. 
You thought he was like the night sky, dark, but with a few shining stars, the dark wasn't that intimidating. 
The prison was the first shining star in Daryl's world. He hated that he believed your optimism then and loved that you were right. He grumbled about it to Carol so often that the woman would just laugh and shoo him away to go figure out his feelings. Daryl knew he liked you, you made his world light up, and he also knew he could never tell you. He did the only thing he knew how to do when he had feelings: push them and you away so he wouldn't have to worry about it. 
That only made things worse for him. 
You knew he pushed you away, you could feel it and see that whatever he was feeling scared the shit out of him. Rick even tried to comfort you about it.
“He's scared,” Rick said as he walked up beside you. You were standing on the gravel road watching him ride off on his motorcycle after another failed conversation with the man. Rick put a hand on your shoulder. “He's…not good with his feelings”
“I know. Just wish he would talk to me.” You told the older man. “I like him but sometimes it hurts too.”
“Sometimes love hurts” 
“That's not helping this situation Rick” you told him sarcastically. 
“I know. I'm sorry. Daryl…he's like a deer, startle him and he’ll run” 
“That's probably the best way to describe him,” you said laughing. Rick smiled, patted your soldier, and walked back to helping the others with walker controle. 
Daryl kept burying his feelings for you, deep, deep down. He felt his skin burn when he was near you, so he never put himself in that situation. That never worked because you would seek him out more than he wanted you to. It took 6 months of being in the Prison before something happened that forced him to feel what he was trying not to. 
You joined Daryl, Michonne, and a few of the new people at the Prison on the run. You rode with Michonne in the pickup truck while the others tagged behind. Daryl rode beside the truck, failing at not watching you in the passenger seat.  You knew he was watching, knew you wanted to be on that motorcycle with him, but knew you needed to let him come to you. 
Once you arrived at the store a few miles from the prison and looked to have not been raided, you all made your way inside. The building was dark and muggy, and it sounded like a few employees didn't make it. You took care of the ones on your side of the store. Daryl closes behind, keeping an eye out. You glanced around before motioning to Daryl to hand you one of the bags to start filling. You got about halfway down the aisle when a Walker jumped you out of nowhere. He didn't bite you, but shit, he scared you. 
“Fuck” you cursed as the walked pushed you back twords the wall, making you knife fummble out of your handsat the supprise. Daryl jumped into action shoving the walker off you and killing it before it could get a taste of skin. Daryl jumped back over to you looking over every inch of skin.
“He didn't get me. He didn't get me. Im fine” you told him, repeating the phrase over and over till he looked you in the eyes. “Daryl, im fine”
“You ain’t comin’ out ‘ere again” he said seriously, “No more runs”
“You can't bench me Daryl” you told him turning from fright to anger. 
“Hell I can” he said back. 
“No. I'm not yours, Daryl. You have made that very clear. You can't come back and act like you care,” you said angrily, letting all those pent-up months of feeling like nothing to Daryl out. He stared at you blankly, realizing how horrible he must have made you feel, always shoving you away.
“I….” Daryl started, wanting to scream at himself for what he had done.
“No. Im done” you told him pushing the man off you, “i'm going over there, stay the hell away Daryl”
Daryl stared blankly at where your body had previously been before you walked off, grabbed your knife, and continued on to the next row, far away from him. For the rest of that run, you stayed away, walking to another aisle whenever he tried to keep close. Michonne picked up on the energy shift between you, too, without having to say anything.
“If she doesn't want you around Daryl, it's because you pushed her so far to do so” she told him.he nodded back, knowing it was his fault and that he caused it. “You have to fix it. No more shoving her away” 
“I know”
“Good. Now get back to work, we leave in thirty” Michone said. 
That night Daryl found you at your guard tower sitting outside watching the stars. He knocked on the window on the corner wall by you. Glancing over you raised it was him, you rolled your eyes.
“I thought i said to stay the hell away Daryl” you said, a bit of venom dripped in your voice. Something Daryl had never heard from you. 
“I know, Im sorry”
“Sorry isn't going to cut it” You told him, “For months you have pushed me away, made me feel worthless to you and I pushed through but you have no right…”
“I know,” he said, cutting you off. “I was afraid of getting’ hurt y/n” 
“Hurt?”
“yer sunshine and I'm…”
“A starry night,” you told him. Holding his gaze. “You're like the stars in the night sky, bright enough to make the darkness not so scary. I always thought you were, but then you changed.”
“I…I couldn't stand yer optimism” he said, “ya made me feel…”
“Made you feel what”
“Like my heart was gonna explode” he said, crouching down by you, “yur makin me feel optimistic about the world” 
“I like having that effect on people” you told him, “I like having an affect on you”
“Ya do” he said, “Ya make me feel happy like I haven't been in a while” 
“Good” you said and pulled him down to you, crashing your lips onto his. You pulled away from him, “Tell me your sorry again”
“I'm sorry Y/N” he said, the husky voice of the redneck sent shivers down your spine. 
“And that you won't ever push me away like you did”
“I promise,” he said, smiling at the way you were making him tell you what you already knew was true. You pulled the man back and kissed him deeply. He pulled you closer to him, picked you up, and carried you into your tower. The sounds and moans that escaped your guard tower that night were heard across the starry sky, which seemed to smile down towards the Prison.
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scudslut · 7 hours
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Ok hear me out. Reader and Daryl go on a run for supplies with a few other people. Reader makes a mistakes and almost gets seriously hurt/ near death experience. Daryl gets pissed at reader, maybe yells at her. Reader laughs it off and acts like she doesn’t gaf. Daryl later finds reader all shaken up and crying by herself. Love if you don’t, love if you do!
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stay with me
daryl x fem!reader
wc: 2k
warnings: typical twd gore/violence, mentions of death, mentions of trauma/ptsd
a/n: absolutely love me some good fluffy angst, thank u nony❤️ i hope you like it:))
As much as you tried to prepare yourself for the inevitable situations runs would put you in, the blood-chilling reality of it never got any easier. No amount of mental prep could stove off the sounds and smell of the dead, nipping ravenously for a taste of your sweet living flesh.
Of course, over time you’d learned just to shut your brain off and fight. Fight as hard and tirelessly as you possibly could, but mistakes could still be made. Shit happened, whether it was your fault or not.
Hours earlier, a group of you went a few miles east of the prison; Daryl having spotted a little strip a few days prior, not too overrun that he thought might be loot-worthy.
It was a simple run really. Keep close, hit a few shops in and out, then head back home. That’s it. Follow the plan, get as much useful shit as possible, and get the fuck out of there. You guys had it down to a science at this point, runs becoming so second nature it was almost too easy to let your guard down nowadays.
“Hey D, I’m gonna go check the storage room back here. Might have something we could use,” you voiced to your partner a few isles down, still keeping your tone as low as you could.
“Gimme a sec, I'll come help ya,” you heard him say but you kept moving. You two had already cleared the main area, you could handle a walker or two if there actually was any behind the small door. You figured you would’ve heard something by now, some sort of banging or grumbling to announce their presence, but there was nothing, the coast presumably clear.
You should have waited.
Crossing the few miscellaneous isles you reached the back door, giving it a small rattle. Still complete silence, not even the faintest groan or shuffle. Knife at the ready, hand clamped over the cool metal handle, your heart rate picked up a notch as it always did before opening into the unknown.
“You got this, come on,” you muttered to yourself, before throwing the door open, bracing for attack. The door flew wide, only to reveal a dark, empty room. Squinting through the dimness, a few high, dusty shelves were visible, stocked with all sorts of canned goods. Fuck yea, that was certainly useful.
“D! Come look what I found!” you rasped, dropping your knife into its holster and shuffling in. You unslung your backpack from your shoulders, digging through it for a flashlight excitedly. It’s been so long since you’ve found this much canned food, surely enough to keep the group well stocked through most of the winter that was approaching. A loud creak from the left caught your attention as you sped forward. Hands finally finding purchase on the flashlight, you flicked it on, scanning across the room to the sound.
Dust caked the air, making the already dark room fuzzier and your eyes took a minute to adjust. You took a few smaller steps closer, peering wearily ahead and then you saw them.
Beady, soulless eyes staring back. A whole rickety staircase of them, heads turning one by one to the light source in your hand.
“Oh fuck.”
There had to be at least 10 of them that you could see, the top of the stairs pitch black and unrevealing.
Your feet stumbled backward, hands desperately reaching for the knife at your hip, dropping the flashlight in the process. It rolled and caught under your heels, knocking you on your ass as the corpses advanced, jaws snapping.
These were those moments. When you felt your heart in your throat, brain stuttering on action. Time moved so slowly that the fragments were almost visible and every thought screaming in your mind sounded like gibberish. You know you should move, is that what it was screaming?
The first one got to you, grabbing your leg trying to crawl up and finally, you were kicking, scrambling, grabbing onto the knife and slamming it into its skull with a loud squelch.
“Daryl!” you yelled. You needed him. Now.
3 more dropped before you, slinking towards you and you were trapped — the first corpse lying heavily over your midsection.
“Yea, yea girl. I heard ya,” you heard him respond, still sounding a few isles away.
No no no, this was not how you were gonna die. Not today. Please.
You kept stabbing, each kill taking everything out of you as you struggled against the body weight atop you. They just kept piling, you could hardly feel your legs anymore, the circulation surely cut off below your knees. And more were coming, a never-ending stream of hunger.
Another one landed before you and you had just enough time to catch its shoulders before it was inches away, snapping at your neck. Your arms burned, tears welling in your eyes as you realized this could be it. You didn’t know how much longer you had before they gave out and rotting teeth would be sinking into you, tearing you apart.
The walker kept snapping, so close you could see the layers of rotting flesh peeling from its face. You had been close to walkers before, had stared into the lifeless eyes too many times to count, but this was different. More were coming and the face in the reflection of its eyes was barely recognizable — terror painting every feature you’d known on you distorted.
The bones cracked in its left shoulder and it dislocated, dropping down to centimeters from your skin.
“No,” you sobbed quietly. Daryl wasn’t going to make it, you knew that. He was going to walk in and find his girl as dinner. You hoped he just booked it, and didn’t waste his time trying to save what would long be gone.
The walker fell limp in your arms and you flinched harshly, expecting excruciating pain to follow as it bit. But there was nothing.
“The fuck are ya doing! Get up!”
Daryl was suddenly right before you, ripping each body off your aching limbs and you were now acutely aware of the larger pile by the stairs, all with arrows and stab wounds littering their heads. When had he gotten in here?
You didn’t hear his words, adrenaline coursing so loudly through your system that all that could be heard was a loud, shrill ringing.
“Goddammit girl, wake the fuck up!” he shouted, grabbing you by the shoulders in an attempt to lift you. Your brain caught up then, as he harshly placed you on your feet. Walkers scattered the floor around you, and a grumble at the stairs announced it wasn’t the last of them.
Daryl reached down, grabbed your dropped items, and shoved them in your dumbstruck hands. “We’re gettin’ outta here, now,” he seethed, dragging you along and slamming the door behind you both, crossing the lines of isles quickly to the front entrance.
The fresh, afternoon air hit your nose in a gust and the last of the fuzz chipped itself from your senses slowly.
“Hope yer fuckin happy with yerself. Can’t ever listen to a goddamn word’a mine, can ya?” Daryl quipped beside you. His eyes were slits as they dug into you, so fuming you could see the heat radiating off his skin in the early autumn brisk.
He was angry at you, you knew that. But you also knew it was because he was scared. Hell, you were fucking terrified to stone back there, but if you wanted to calm him down at all, you knew you had to act unfazed.
Gathering any remaining wits about you, you took a deep inhale, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting them.”
He didn’t respond, wouldn’t even look at you anymore as he began to pace the graveled parking lot.
“Hey don’t stress Dar. I’m alive, we’re good,” you attempted to soothe further.
“Don’t stress? Yer a real piece a work, y’know that! Always fucking up everyone’s shit cause ya don’t wanna use yer brain, huh?”
Well, that did not go as you expected.
The rest of the group had started shuffling out of the other shops around you, making their way to the vehicles.
“Jeez, you need to lighten up,” you brushed past him, head high. You couldn’t let his words affect you, not with all the other emotions coursing as well. You didn’t understand what he meant. You had never put anyone other than yourself in danger, how could you possibly be fucking over everyone else?
You decided to wait in the car as the rest of the group went back for the cans, tag-teaming whatever walkers remained. The loot had decently filled both trunks and everyone was happy to call it a day and head back.
Your eyes followed Daryl as he jumped into your car, eyes trained on the windshield, “Ya alright at least?” he muttered glancing at you briefly while shifting the car into drive.
“I’m good, you big grump,” you huffed with a tight-lipped smile. “That much food will last us a long time. I believe a thank you is in order, don’t you think?”
You were not good. Not at all, but there was no reason to worry him anymore, putting him through enough today as it was. Your hands were shoved tightly under your thighs, so he couldn’t see the tremors racking through you.
You had smelt death so many times it didn’t bother you much anymore. Today you had smelt your own. Saw your life in that walker's eyes, mere seconds away from demolition. It was safe to say you were shaken to your core.
The journey back was silent, both not in the mood to chat for very different reasons, and the whole time you were trying to keep each breath of yours steady.
You helped unload as much as you could, before slipping away discreetly to your cell. You didn’t want anyone to see you like this, you felt kind of pathetic honestly. This was life now, it had been this way for a long time now, you shouldn’t be so shaken up as you were but the terror just wouldn’t leave your body.
Panic washed over you once again as your eyes hit your dim cell. Your mind was quickly slipping back into those last moments, the darkness and dust all too similar. The fear you had felt coating your veins icily and your breaths started to become agitated. There was nowhere else to go though. If you left the cell someone would see you.
Subconsciously, you backed yourself into the corner of the room, crumbling down to the floor with your head in your hands. Deep down you hoped your hyperventilating would knock you out. You didn’t want to think anymore — see it anymore. Tears were burning the back of your throat as you held down sobs, feeling the walker's hands and weight atop of you all again.
A small yelp escaped you when the hands became real. Pressure on your shoulders and waist and your head snapped up from its hiding spot, reflexes already prepared to fight whatever presence was with you.
“It’s jus’ me, hey, hey,” you heard through your panic, his blue eyes just recognizable through blurry tears. “S’okay, relax.”
You couldn’t calm down this time, vicious sobs finally breaking their way out of your frame. Running was your first thought; you didn’t want anyone to see you like this, Daryl or not. Emotions were never a strong suit of yours and would always find yourself dealing with them in private, away from sympathetic words and pitying eyes. But Daryl was never like that, he drew you in and held you tight, uttering no more words other than the ones to confirm it was him. If you asked him to say more, he would, but he knew this was what you needed. Someone to ground you back onto Earth and out of whatever images tormented your head.
So that’s what he did. Held you for hours as your body expelled all its terror and lingering adrenaline. He’d give quiet coos through each wave of shakes, grabbing a blanket to warm you through the cold sweats. And finally, once the fear faded to exhaustion, he scooped you up off the stiff concrete and into your soft cot.
“Stay with me?” you rasped, throat parched and raw from crying.
It wasn’t a second thought for him. He was never truly angry with you, and he knew you knew that. He needed you safe with him.
“Always.”
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shinydreamerblizzard · 10 hours
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Daryl dixon smut for my pookies 🙊
Daryldixonxfem!reader💞
Daryl was out on a run with Rick and Carol since about 10:00 A.M. to around 6:40 P.M.
he had always been kinda skittish about having rough sex. But tonight he had no fears. His eyes were glossy from his arousal. His dick hard in his baggy jeans ad he walked in the door, his crossbow over his shoulder. He'd sling his crossbow onto the floor and walk towards the kitchen, where you stood and made hot cocoa in the microwave. Your tight white night gown hugging your hips as you lean onto the counter your hair messy. He'd walk up behind you, placing his hands on your hips. Then he'd let out a grunt. "Hey".... He'd groan as he pressed himself to you tightly, his belt jingling as he pulled it off of him with another moan. You would reply "hmm"...."hi, baby" with a soft giggle. He'd get excited and unzip him pants, letting his cock spring out. The pre-cum trickling down his length. He'd push your night gown up over your hips, getting full view of your lacey white panties. They're so tight on you. He feels insane, especially since he never gets this sexual this easily. But oh, he can't help it. He pulls you into him more. He'd take his calloused hands and tug down the rim of your panties. He would softly and gently line himself up with you while lovingly taps your right hip. He then softly kiss your neck as he pushed himself in. You'd let out a loud whimper. It felt so fucking good. He'd moan deeply as he'd begin thrusting inside of you, making soft slaps as you pounded. He'd slowly speed up. Making sure your ok while he's at it. You soft, plush ass would softly clap as you moaned. He'd finish in you, letting his cum drips from your pretty pussy. Then he'd clean you up, and drink hot cocoa with you.
(Srry if this is bad, this is my first😬)
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louifaith · 15 hours
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Daryl Dixon is the kind of father who has a horrible story about learning to swim, imagine him telling his kid how his father was an idiot while teaching him and Merle.
Then he is quite sweet and patient as he is teaching his child trying to make them feel safe (for the sake of the two of them to be honest)
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allagogtoreblog · 1 year
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feral4daryl · 4 months
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masterlist || MDNI
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sweet scent.
perv!daryl x fem!reader
summary: while looking for his crossbow around the house, daryl ends up finding a pile of your dirty clothes and... used panties of yours. and when no one's looking, he decides to have some fun with them.
warnings: EXTREME AGE GAP (daryl is in his late 30s/early 40s and reader is 18), not entirely proofread, smut, mean!daryl sort of, corruption kink, daryl being an absolute pervert, panties sniffing, daddy kink, masturbation, cussing, daryl imagining himself doing the dirtiest things to you (unprotected p-in-v, squirting, face fucking, praising, loss of virginity, cunnilingus and i think that's pretty much it)
word count: 2.8k
a/n: please proceed with caution, this piece of work portrays a few extreme or unusual fetishes, so if you're not comfortable with any of those i've listed above please do not ready this. the idea that inspired this work originally belongs to @dilfsandmartinis.
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if there was something daryl absolutely hated, it was the feeling of uselessness.
since andrea had mistaken him for a walker and shot him from afar, grazing his head, useless was exactly how he felt, having to lay down on a bed the whole day and night, doing absolutely nothing but be left alone with his own thoughts. and oh, what a disgraceful fate.
everytime he wasn't focused on hunting, fighting or surviving in general, the farmer's sweet younger daughter flooded his mind. your hair, your face, your stupidly adorable sundresses, everything about you was so... distracting.
daryl wasn't ever the kind of guy to simp for a woman, but that one specific girl made him feel emotions and sensations that were hidden deep within his being for years, maybe even decades. feelings he thought had vanished from his heart a long time ago were now blooming all over again, like he was some stupid teenager looking at a playboy magazine for the first time.
there was something about your innocence, your adorable mannerisms, your sweet voice and your kindness that had awakened something in him, something he wasn't quite sure what it was.
no, he wasn't exactly a young man. and while being aware that you were very young, he couldn't help but feel so guilty for having those feelings. whenever you bended over to pick something up, he had to fight demons not to have a glimpse of your panties. he often wondered how could you be so careless by exposing yourself like that, even if you didn't do it on purpose.
and there was him again, thinking about you. it's like no matter how hard he tried to push those thoughts away, they were like water, always finding a way in.
he huffed, feeling defeated. he knew he was still recovering from the incident, and that he should rest, but why was he following orders around anyways? he wasn't a damn puppy. plus, everybody else had left him there to go looking for sophia. he wanted to be able to help too. he was alive after all, and if he was alive, he believed he should be on his feet.
so that's what he did. he slowly lifted his right foot, resting it on the floor, then he did the same with his left one. his body reluctantly lifted itself up, and he immediately could feel the consequences for laying down for so long, his back killing him and his vision a bit foggy. anyways, he ignored any discomfort and started walking slowly, his head still a little dizzy.
then, he remembered he needed his trustworthy crossbow, he couldn't just leave unprotected like that. he looked around the room he was settled in but it was nowhere to be seen. he knew it was still in the house, so he left the room. he started walking down the corridor, his eyes attentively looking for any signs of his crossbow. he was even starting to think that his mates might've hidden it to force him to stay in the house when he spotted a halfway open door.
his calloused hands pulled it open, revealing a small bedroom, all pink themed and stupidly decorated. no, his crossbow wasn't likely to be there, it just looked like it belonged to one of hershel's daughters, but it was like something was calling him in.
he stepped in the room and it almost looked messy. the dressing table on the corner had lipsticks, combs, all sorts of make-up and girly stuff all piled up and... a perfume.
it was happening again, images of you flooded his mind and it was like he could almost smell you. oh, your sweet scent had the power to make him hard like nothing else. just by looking at that small bottle, just by imagining your scent, he could feel little shock waves travelling all the way down to his cock, threatening to awaken it.
he knew it was wrong, so fucking wrong thinking about a much younger girl like that. and it was even worse considering that you were the daughter of the man that provided him shelter in such difficult times. it felt ungrateful.
when he saw you for the first time, he didn't think much of you. he was actually careful, treating you like the stranger you were. and even when time passed, he never really got close to you. now and then you tried to share a word, even if just a little bit, but it seemed useless since he would reject all your attempted approaches. he didn't hate you like he tried to after acknowledging his disgusting desires for you, but he just couldn't allow himself to interact with a girl that made him sick to his stomach for all the wrong reasons.
your sweetness was almost annoying. the entire world had gone to shit, for goodness sake! dead bodies walking around and eating all the people they could find. how could you act so clueless all the time? daryl even wondered if you had ever seen a walker before, if you knew what was really happening out there. after all, it was very obvious that you were a daddy's girl, always protected under your father's wing.
but strangely enough, acknowledging that only made him protective towards you. he was always somewhat watching, always around you making sure you were safe and he barely knew why, he just felt like he should.
so he didn't stop himself from reaching over to your small perfume bottle. the design was very simple, no labels to be seen, time had probably faded it away. the cap was baby pink and heart shaped, and when he removed it, he immediately brought the bottle to his nose, giving it a gentle sniff.
fuck.
now, he was 100% sure that was your room. the fragrance was the same one that filled his nose and made him drunk in you everytime you walked by. he wondered if that was the scent he would feel if he ever hugged you, burying his face into your chest.
in that moment, he couldn't think about anything else, not rick, not carol, not his chores, not surviving, not even sophia. you were everything that he had in his fucked up mind.
he wouldn't feel so fucking guilty if his thoughts were only about your innocence and sweetness, but they were also dirty as fuck. countless were the times when daryl imagined groping you, running his hands all over your delicate body, feeling every texture, squeezing every junk and listening close to your every little whimper. he would pull your hair, gently at first, just to get it off your face and neck so he could pamper them with little wet kisses, gently scratching his teeth along them. he imagined he'd have to keep you on your feet himself, since you'd struggle to because of how weak your knees would get at all the sensations he would provide you and...
wait, no.
what was he thinking? was he out his fucking mind? he needed to stop those absolutely disgusting thoughts right away. he couldn't keep having those thoughts about you, not when you're out taking care of such important business with the others. he put the perfume bottle back on the dressing table, determined to let all that go. he knew he couldn't just let himself get so distracted like that over something so mundane and unimportant as his own sexual desires but then...
...he spotted a basket filled with clothes when he turned around to leave. his mind immediately started to rush all over again, and for the 100th time that day, he turned careless. he slowly approached it. shorts, tops, pants and so on could be seen at the top of the pile.
in that moment, he had totally forgot why he had entered that bedroom or even left his bed in the first place. he couldn't even remember the existence of his crossbow or his duties.
and then... he gets an idea. he starts going through the pile of dirty clothes and in no time, he finds your panties. they were white with a pink ribbon on the front, a clear reminder of your innocence. for a moment, he just looks at it, contemplating the possibilities. then, he remembers seeing you in it when you bended over to pick some off the floor the day before. he remembers catching a glimpse of it under your yellow sundress when you went to change his bandage.
that meant that those panties had been freshly worn.
if just your perfume ignited such vile desires in him, he couldn't even imagine what your natural scent could do to him. and he was oh so curious to find out. he still felt guilty, but that man had been sex deprived for so fucking long, he didn't even masturbate very often. he knew damn well he was about to commit a big mistake, maybe even starting something he was sure he couldn't finish, but he finally made up his mind.
he flips the small piece of cloth over, eyeing the soft-looking lining of the panties. he gulps, feeling his mouth water right away. god, what was he doing? what was right, what was wrong wasn't even important to him anymore. he just wanted to embrace his sickness.
there was a small stain on the lining, probably from you wearing it. just that sight alone was enough to get him off, and once again, he found himself having to face that tingling sensation inside his pants. he knew damn well what that meant and what was about to happen. but honestly, he couldn't give a single fuck anymore.
in one quick motion, he brought the fabric to his face, giving a long sniff while he rolled his eyes to the back of his head. that fucking scent of yours got him drunk the moment it filled his nostrils. so intense, so feminine and raw, daryl couldn't remember the last time he felt that type of pleasure, or if he had even felt anything like it before.
it made him needy like a horny teenager. he felt himself going back to puberty when all he could think about was jacking off day and night. and it was all your fucking fault.
daryl palmed himself through his denim pants, never taking your panties off his face not even for one second. the natural scent of your cunt was more than successful to make him hard as a rock, the sensation of being in his pants started to get uncomfortable as his dick grew bigger and bigger.
just palming himself wasn't enough.
he slowly unbuttoned his pants and unzipped them, inserting one of his hand in his briefs to catch his hard cock in it, freeing it for the first time in a while. his angry-red tip was literally pulsating while a clear and sticky liquid dropped down his length.
he wasn't able to hold a small grunt as he wrapped his calloused hand around his cock, the rough sensation of his fingers causing him to feel a jolt of pleasure so fucking delicious and guilty at the same time. the archer brought his hand to his mouth, catching some of his saliva to use as lube.
oh, how he wished you were there. he'd make sure you'd get his cock nice and wet with your spit so you could rub it up and down. and then, without warnings, he'd just shove it down your throat, forcing you to prove how much of a good girl you could be just for him.
and just for him. he wanted you all for his own. daryl never really liked to share, specially when it came to a girl like you, so princess like, so adorable looking. your plump lips looked so fucking perfect, and they would look even more wrapped around his big cock.
knowing how fragile you were, he knew you would definitely choke and gag on him, struggling to fit all of him in your mouth. he would whisper sweet encouragement words to you like “tha's it, tha's ma good girl”. he imagined how he would hold your head in place and keep a hand on your throat so he could feel his cock while he aggressively pumped it in and out, making you drool all over him. “just like tha', yeah, show daddy how fuckin' good ya are fer him”.
in his imagination, you would look up at him with those big doe eyes of yours, with a mix of uncertainty and desire to make him proud. “am i doing this right, daddy?” he could almost hear your voice saying it whenever you would take him off his mouth to catch your breath for a moment, never disconnecting your small hand from his thick length.
he started pumping faster, squelching sounds were all that could be heard in that silent room, a proof of his degeneracy. the grunts and stifled moans were only getting harder and harder to hold back. he was sticking those panties to his face and sniffing on them like his life depended on it, like he was a desperate virgin.
a virgin. he wondered if you were one. you sure looked like it, your dad never let you out of sight for long enough for you to try something like that, he supposed from what he knew about your relationship. he imagined how would it feel like to be the one to pop your cherry for the first time.
oh, he would teach you so many things, everything he knows. he would guide you through it all along, teaching you where to touch, where to kiss, where to lick. he would make your virgin little cunny cum so many times it would get all puffy and red. he even wondered if he could make you squirt, stuffing you with his fingers, brushing against your sweet spot over and over again until you were a quivering mess, squirting all over his skull tattoo. and yes, he would make you lick his fingers clean, your sweet little tongue dragging across them, and then, he would kneel down in front of you, not wanting to waste a single drop of your sweet release, attacking your sensitive clit and slit with his lips and tongue.
fuck, fuck, fuck.
he was so fucking eager to taste your slick, to revel in your salty taste. he imagined how fucking good the smell he was getting from your panties was from the actual source. he would lick it all, your lips, your slit, even your ass, but he would give special attention to your little clit, flicking his tongue on it, making it cum again just for him. he would never grow tired of it.
and when he felt you were finally ready for him, he would bend you over just like you used to do so absentmindedly. he would be gentle at first, but knowing himself, he knew he wouldn't be able to hold himself back for too long before absolutely railing the shit out of you, making you cry out and scream his name in pleasure and pain.
and when he flipped you over on your back, he would be able to see the bulge on your lower belly caused by his big cock inside you. just by imagining that he felt himself getting close to the edge. he would press his hand on it, making the little room inside your pussy even tighter. fuck, he imagined the sweet sounds you would make just for him.
all those dirty thoughts and your sweet scent from your panties were more than enough to make shivers run down his spine and his whole body tremble. he kept his eyes shut tight as he licked a stripe on the lining of your panties, trying to get some of your delicious taste. meanwhile, he hadn't stopped his hands not even for a second, harshly rubbing his cock up and down until it was too much.
in a strangled moan, his cock started shooting spurt after spurt of thick cum onto the floor, the dressing table and pretty much anything that was around. he couldn't remember the last time he had such an intense orgasm, the sensation making his mind completely empty except for your image.
his movements got slower until they stopped and he let go of his now sensitive cock. he sighed after catching his breath. he was left with that afterglow and the feeling that he made a huge mistake. suddenly, he felt dirty like before. he opened his eyes slowly, removing your panties from his face and putting them in his pockets. yeah, he knew it was wrong, but he was still planning to keep them for later.
then, when he averted his gaze to the mirror on his side, he saw...
you. standing on the doorframe with a shocked look on your face.
“u-uncle daryl?”
[PART TWO]
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a/n: i know, i'm disgusting. i'm sorry. (just a quick reminder, english isn't my first language, so please excuse any grammar mistakes or awkward phrasing lmao, and tysm if you read it this far)
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fluffy-dixon · 2 days
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Image some impromptu dancing with Daryl.
Another 'social event' had been organised within the walls of Alexandria, you and Daryl found yourselves at an evening gathering, drawn there by the promise of a fire’s warmth - you both loved a fire. Carl played a collection of old CDs softly, merely to fill the silence, the crowd mingled with ease. It had been ages since you'd all listened to some music, naturally always wanting to keep quiet to try and minimise the attention of walkers. Yet, you and Daryl, ever the outsiders, stood apart, gazing into the fire’s dance - in your own little word. His arms encircled you, wrapped protectively around you while his lips pressed butterfly kisses along the curve of your neck.
Then, subtly, Daryl began to sway, pulling you from your zone. You faced him, the firelight casting a warm glow over his rugged features and muscular frame, his eyes heavy . Hand in hand, you both began an awkward yet earnest slow dance. Missteps and stumbles were shared, laughter mingled with the crackling of the flames, as you twirled under his gentle lead. You were two idiots trying to dance but two idiots utterly in love and devoted to each other.
"Lets never do that again Dixon" you laughed into his chest.
"Agreed".
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dixons-sunshine · 20 hours
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Snitches Get Stitches | Young!Daryl Dixon x Young!Fem!Reader
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Summary: Things were going great between you and your boyfriend. You adored each other and everyone in the trailer park could see how perfect you were for one another. Well, almost everyone. Daryl's brother and father seemed to feel otherwise.
Genre: Fluff, Angst.
Era: Pre outbreak.
Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams universe.
Warnings: Swearing, sexual comments, Merle being an asshole, Daryl's father is a warning himself, abuse.
Word count: 2.2k
Requested by anon.
A/n: I created a little universe :) I didn't think people would like my young!Daryl stories so much, so thank you! I'm gonna start labeling my young!Daryl fics SSHD if it's part of that universe.
As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests, as well as Scud Frohmeyer requests.
It was late in the afternoon. The people in the trailer park were beginning to prepare to settle down for the night. Parents were calling their kids inside and people were returning from their jobs. However, beyond the trailer park and in the woods that surrounded it, you and Daryl were seated on the ground, basking in the peacefulness of the wilderness.
“Okay... I spy with my little eye, something blue.”
Daryl hummed and scanned his surroundings. “Tha' flower?” he guessed, nodding towards the flowers in front of you.
“Nope,” you shook your head with a grin.
“The berries?” he guessed again, pointing towards the bush holding the aforementioned berries.
“Try again,” you said with a smile, leaning your head against his shoulder.
Daryl wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer and tighter against his side. He rested his chin on top of your head. “The sky?”
“No.”
“Then wha' s'it?” he asked.
“Your eyes,” you whispered, leaning up to press a kiss against his jaw.
Daryl faked an annoyed groan, but the small smile on his face betrayed his true emotions. “Tha' ain't fair. I can't see my own eyes.”
“It still counts,” you shrugged.
“Whatever ya say, sunshine,” Daryl replied with a roll of his eyes, an affectionate smile on his face. “S'my turn now, righ'?”
“Yeah,” you nodded.
“Alrigh', then. I spy somethin' beautiful,” he said, placing a kiss to the side of your head.
You smiled at him. “Don't use my methods against me, Dixon. Is it me?”
“Ain't anythin' more beautiful here. 'Course it's ya.”
“You're cheesy, Dar,” you giggled, nuzzling your face into his shoulder.
Daryl smiled softly at the action, his heart fluttering in his chest. He placed a kiss on top of your head. “Only fer ya, pretty girl.”
You laughed softly before focusing on the flower Daryl pointed to a few moments prior. You withdrew from his hold and got up, picking it from the ground before sitting down in front of your boyfriend. You held the flower up to his face and smiled.
“It matches your eyes,” you said softly, your eyes flickering between the flower and Daryl. “But your eyes are still more beautiful.”
Daryl ducked his head as a blush spread over his cheeks. You smiled and reached to cup his cheek in your hand, gently urging him to look at you. His eyes met yours, and time stopped for a moment. His eyes flickered between your eyes and your lips, before he acted on his urge and leaned in to kiss you fervently.
You instantly reciprocated, deepening the kiss. Daryl's hand came to the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair as he pulled you closer. The two of you were lost in the moment, and the kiss would've gone on forever, had it not been for the fact that air was still a priority.
You pulled away first. You leaned your forehead against his and smiled, your breathing heavy from your previous actions. Daryl's hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb softly caressing the skin. However, the sweet, tender moment was interrupted when the two of you heard a rustle in the grass behind you.
Startled, you turned around in the direction of the sound, your eyes scanning your surroundings nervously. However, Daryl only placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, turning your attention back to him.
“Dun' worry. S'jus' a squirrel,” Daryl assured you, pointing up at a tree where a squirrel was seated, curiously watching the two of you.
You sighed in relief. “Sorry. I don't know why I'm so jumpy. It's not like it's the first time we've come out here.”
Daryl shook his head in dismissal. “S'alrigh'. Ya dun' have to explain yerself to me,” he reassured you, before getting up and offering his hand to you. “C'mon, tha' was probably a sign we should be headin' back. S'gettin' late.”
You took his hand and allowed him to pull you up. You interlaced your fingers and together the two of you made the short journey back to the trailer park. Sooner than you would've liked, you and Daryl were stood in front of your trailer. You turned to face him and gently cupped his cheek, your eyes filled with worry.
“My offer still stands, by the way. You can stay over. My mom won't mind,” you told him.
Daryl shook his head. He brought his hand up to grab your hand that rested on his cheek, kissing the back of your hand before letting it go.
“Nah, s'alrigh'. I've been stayin' over a lot recently. My old man's gettin' suspicious, and I dun' need him findin' out 'bout us. I dun' wanna risk the chance tha' he might hurt ya,” he replied, pursing his lips.
You gave him a tight-lipped smile and nodded, your heart beating faster in worry at the thought of Daryl having to return home to that sad excuse of a father. The two of you had been together for a good number of months and you had yet to officially meet William Dixon, and you doubted that you ever would—and that was okay by you. You doubted if you could have a civil conversation with the man who hurt the guy you loved so badly, so Daryl's apprehension of you meeting his father was more than alright by you.
“Okay. Try to be safe, alright?” you responded, taking a step towards him. “I love you.”
Daryl smiled softly and leaned in to place a sweet, tender kiss on your lips. “I love ya, too,” he said when he pulled back, caressing your cheek softly one more time before turning around and slowly walking back towards his trailer home. You glanced at his back one more time before descending up the trailer steps and into your home, shutting the door behind you.
Unbeknownst to you or Daryl, the older Dixon brother had come to ask his younger brother's assistance in one of his escapades. He had waited on one of the benches in the trailer park for Daryl to make himself known, knowing that he made himself scarce from home during the day and only returned later in the day. But Merle was extremely surprised when he saw Daryl walk you back to your home, and even more surprised that the two of you had exchanged a kiss.
Merle hopped up from the bench and onto his motorcycle, speeding off into town to find a payphone. Merle wanted to confront his brother about you, but there was no way in hell that he was going to enter that godforsaken trailer ever again. A phonecall would have to do.
In the Dixons' trailer, the loud ringing from the phone interrupted the tense silence. Daryl, not wanting the phone to wake up his drunk and passed out father, quickly sprung up from his bed and darted out of his room and into the narrow hallway to answer the phone.
“Hello?” he whispered into the phone, his eyes nervously darting to his father that was passed out on the couch in front of the television.
“Hey there, Darylina. Mighty glad it was ya tha' answered.”
Daryl's jaw clenched at the sound of Merle's voice. “Merle,” he angrily grumbled into the phone, his hand gripping the cord of the phone. “Wha' the hell do ya want?”
Merle's laughter could be heard from the other line. “Now tha' ain't no way to talk to yer big brother, boy. Have a tad more respect, why dun' ya, huh?”
“Wha' do ya want?” Daryl repeated in frustration.
“Jus' thought I'd tell ya tha' I swung by earlier. I waited my whole life away waitin' fer ya to get back. Got quite the show when ya did.”
“Wha' the hell are ya talkin' 'bout?” Daryl inquired, confusion evident in his voice.
“Saw ya kissin' tha' girl. 'M proud of ya! Ya finally grew some balls and got yerself some pussy.”
Daryl could feel his blood run cold. His heart stopped beating for a moment and his eyes widened in shock. Merle had seen him with you. He was going to make your life a living hell now, more so than when you were just Daryl's friend.
“Cat got yer tongue, Darylina? Dun' go all quiet on me now, boy. Now tell me, is tha' pretty face any good in bed? She looks the type tha' knows wha' she's doin'. Probably fucked every guy in tha' trailer park fer all ya know, and yer jus' another one on her long list,” Merle taunted, a cruel laugh escaping his lips.
Daryl felt his blood boil. “Dun' talk 'bout her like tha'! She ain't some piece of meat or an object, so dun' objectify her. She ain't like those women ya fool 'round with when yer high or drunk. And she's so much more than jus' a pretty face. She's smart, kind, funny and she actually cares 'bout me. She's everythin' those women ya fuck ain't, and it clearly shows.”
Merle whistled on the other end of the phone. “Wha', yer tellin' me ya actually care 'bout her? Tha' this ain't some hit and run?”
“No!” Daryl exclaimed.
“I bet Dad doesn't know 'bout her, huh? Wha' would ya do if I told on ya, baby brother?”
“Fuck off, Merle. Go to hell,” Daryl responded before hanging up, his fists clenched in anger at his older brother. Never before had Daryl been so angered by Merle that he had wanted to punch him, but he had crossed a line. He brought you, Daryl's girl, into it. That was unacceptable.
“Ya done now, boy?”
Daryl froze in place. He slowly turned around and came face to face with his father, the man having an unreadable expression on his face. Daryl cowered instantly, his eyes darting to the ground to avoid his father's piercing stare.
His father looked at him before shaking his head, a wicked chuckle escaping his lips. Daryl shut his eyes in anticipation, knowing that the first blow to his face would come soon enough.
“Ya got yerself a girl?” he asked, taking a step towards Daryl.
Daryl instinctively took a step back. “No, sir,” he said quietly, refusing to look his father in the eyes.
Then it happened. William Dixon's fist connected with his son's face, sending Daryl reeling backwards. Daryl quickly regained his footing, his face already throbbing in pain, but he knew better than to show it. His father would only hit him harder if he did.
“Dun' lie to me, boy. Ya think 'm deaf?”
“I ain't lyin', sir,” Daryl responded. “I ain't got a girl.”
His father hummed. “Jus' someone yer screwin', then? Someone yer tryin' to knock up?”
Daryl shook his head. “No.”
That was met with another blow to the face. Every question his father asked him that could potentially reveal who you were was met with refusal and denial, which inevitably lead to another beating. Daryl's father soon grew tired, the alcohol in his system taking its toll on him. He flopped back onto the couch, soon passing out again.
Daryl's body hurt all over. He was certain that there would be prominent bruises all over his body the next day and the cuts on his face stung, blood oozing out of them. When he was sure that his father was passed out again, he quietly left the trailer and walked over to yours.
He walked to the back of your trailer to where he knew your bedroom's window was. He quietly knocked on your window, hoping that you weren't asleep yet. He was relieved when he saw your lamp flick on and heard your footsteps approach your window.
You opened your curtains and saw Daryl outside, blood trickling down his face. You gasped and opened your window, helping Daryl climb inside. You gently ushered him over to your bed and urged him to sit down, heading to grab the first aid kit from the bathroom.
As Daryl watched you return and start to clean up his wounds, not pressing him to tell you immediately what happened, he knew that he made the right choice. He'd take a thousand beatings if it meant keeping you safe. You were his sunshine, and he'd do anything to protect you.
Even if it meant getting hit by his father to ensure you remained anonymous.
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kimjun · 4 months
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girls are like “I want a boyfriend” but reject everyone because none of them are their comfort characters
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fordaryl · 3 months
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REMEMBER.
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minors dni. 2.6k words. smut. daryl dixon x fem!reader. protective daryl. hint of size kink. strength kink.
It's easy to forget his strength when his touch is always so gentle. When you're safe, he lets you forget everything he's capable of; the reason you've both made it this long.
Safety lets you forget.
And then—when it inevitably all it all goes to shit again—you remember.
"Get in!" he calls through the wall of bodies separating you. He keeps the attention of most of them, but there's a few stumbling in your direction—too many for you to handle alone. "Now!" he shouts as he takes another growling walker down.
It goes against every instinct you have—to leave him to fight this alone. But this was his domain. This was when you did whatever the fuck he told you to do. It was how you survived.
You drag the door of the container open, grunting as the heavy metal fights back. It's a makeshift prison cell, one that was supposed to be filled with live bait for the walkers. It would be if it weren't for Daryl. He was almost single-handedly dismantling whatever fucked up enterprise you'd both stumbled upon.
One of them reaches you before you'd manage to push the gate open enough to slip through.
One is fine. You can handle one.
Turning around to deal with it gives you a split second to check in on Daryl. He's making a dent in the mass of bodies, but it's not enough. Not with the shouts of the living making their way closer.
You kick the walker you've knifed back into the mass of bodies approaching, giving you just enough time to slip through the crack you've made in the sliding door and slam it closed behind you.
Locking it is another story.
You have no hope of accomplishing that.
Still, it's enough for now. It's enough to let Daryl keep his focus where it needs to be as you deal with as many as you can through the bars.
Then one gets shot down. Daryl, is your first thought. But then two are shot down at once. And then the voices reach your ears. Voices are bad. Walkers you can handle. The living was another story. Nothing stoked the fear constantly simmers in your gut like the voices of the living.
They shout over each other, calling directions as they pick off the mass with a spray of bullets. You can't see Daryl anymore. He's either dead or hiding.
Hiding. Hiding. Hiding.
You shift back into one of the dark corners of the container as the shouts draw nearer.
“What the fuck happened?! Don't shoot them you dumb fucks! Get any you can back into holding!”
Any second now... any second they'd find Daryl and your world would end. The living were different. The living were monsters of a different kind.
"They're bunched up around this one!" someone shouts.
You hold your breath.
"Well check it out then!" another demands.
Oh, fuck. You grip your pistol. Your aim was decent. You could take one out, maybe two. But there's a whole group... and they were coming for you.
You scramble to the other far corner as the last of the walkers are cleared from the entrance, hoping to take advantage of the darkest shadows. Daryl would be watching... waiting. Any extra moment you could give him could be vital.
"You better come out now," a man calls from outside. He's just out of your sights, prepared for you to be armed and ready to fight. You'd hoped to have the element of surprise. "I ain't asking."
You know what'll happened when they find you. It's the same thing each time. You're prey to people like these—something to hunt in a world without consequences for that kind of thing.
Your silence buys you less than a minute before the first of them are dragging the metal gate open. If you shoot, they'll shoot back. It's not something you'll survive cornered like this. So you bet on them being the same as the rest. You let them know you're prey.
"Please," you call, as meek and afraid as you can manage—vulnerable. Not a threat. "I'm—I'm unarmed."
Then a bright light blinds you.
"What the fuck?" one of them exclaims. Then, "Where'd the fuck this little thing come from?"
There it was. Little. Thing. You were nothing. You're not a threat. You'd bought Daryl more time.
"Come on out, girl. Come on." They call you like you're a dog, something less than human. That's how they see you. Something to use.
You take a small step forward, still blinded by their flashlights. Daryl was alive. He was alive and hiding and he was waiting for something.
You just had to stay alive.
"What do you... want with me?" you ask, still taking tiny steps towards the light. Weak. Vulnerable. No threat.
You get muffled laughter in response. Guards down. Distracted.
"What do we want? We want a little fun, honey. That's all. Just a bit of fun."
They're flash lights drop as you approach the entrance. They've pulled the gate all the way across.
Five. You count five. If you kill two...
"Why is she alone?" one of them questions. He's younger, a little less distracted.
The rest ignore him. Then one of them has you by the arm, dragging you the rest of the way out of the makeshift cell. They're hands send a wave of repulsion through your body as they grab at you, pulling you around and shoving you in front of them. They may as well be the undead the way their touch feels against your skin.
The young one doesn't move out of the way when you reach him. Instead he stares into you, suspicious and angry. "Who are you with?" he asks. Even then, his gun is lowered. Even to him you aren't a threat.
"Get the fuck out of the way," the man gripping your arm says, clearly irritated and impatient.
"But—"
"Now."
His eyes narrow, but then he steps aside—his back pressed to the wall to let the rest of the men past. It's now that you get a look down into the pit of walkers, the one's they've managed to recapture rather than take out. They reach up towards you, hands grabbing for you.
Then, only a few steps later—you're stopped. The man with his hand wrapped around your elbow leans over your shoulder, his rancid breath invading your nostrils as he speaks. "You alone?" he asks. "You tell me right now."
You blink away the burn threatening to pool tears in your eyes. Were you alone? If you were...
The man's grip tightens, the only warning you get before you're forced to your knees and staring down into the pit of hungry walkers. "Speak," he demands, nails carving into your skin. "I'd hate to waste you like this."
There's two other men behind you. Three surrounding you in total. You could take one out for sure. They hadn't even searched you for weapons. They expected nothing out of you at all.
But then there'd be two, only counting the ones in reaching distance. How long would it take the other two further away to aim their guns in your direction?
You were dying tonight if Daryl was dead, that was certain. Your only hope was that he was waiting and watching... but what would he be waiting for...
Your pistol sits at your hip, a comfortable weight.
You take a deep breath. You could wait to die. Or fight now and hope that's the moment he's waiting for... if he's waiting at all.
The man holding you drops to one knee behind you. He leans over to speak in your ear. You wouldn't need to rely on your aim for the first kill, only any that followed. It was a headstart you weren't likely to get again. You reach for your pistol and before the man can open his lips and taint your senses with his rot once more, you shoot him through the underside of his jaw.
Your ears ring as his body drops. But you were ready. The men behind you aren't.
You were nothing. Prey.
The few seconds that affords you are priceless. You manage to shoot one more through the head before he can get hands on his own weapon.
The third is another story. His gun is pointed at you for what must be milliseconds. They drag though, those moments with an enemy weapon pointed at your head always do.
But then Daryl is there, strangling the man with a rifle and shoving his body into the ground with a force that reverberates through the metal. It's only when he snaps the man's neck you spot the bodies behind him.
He'd been waiting for you.
You watch him stand, hair hanging in his face and his chest rising and falling with his deep breaths.
Then his eyes are on you.
Then his hands.
Those hands... the same ones he'd used seconds earlier to break a man's neck. His fingers are feathers across your skin as he brushes the hair back off your face. "Okay?" he asks, soft and a little shaky.
You nod.
"You did good," he says, that deep gravel back in his voice. "So good, sweetheart." His hand makes a trail down to your neck, gentle and slow over your pulse point to rest at your clavicle. "We gotta go," he says. "Stay close for me, yeah?"
—————
The first time after is always the same—after you're forced to remember. It adds something to the way his gentle hands feel as he reaches over your hips to dip between your legs. To the way his body feels pressed up behind yours.
His thick fingers slip between your slick folds as he holds you tight against his chest. Heat. It's an overwhelming heat. He crowds you, practically curled around you.
"You like that sweetheart?" His voice is almost sweet as his lips graze your ears and his long hair tickles your skin. "Huh? You like that?"
You nod with a small whine, pressing your hips back into him—desperate.
He sighs, finger prodding over and over at your swollen entrance—a teasing little hint of what's to come. He dips in slightly, his calloused fingertip pressing into your slippery, spongy entrance just enough to have you whimpering his name.
"Fuck," he grunts. "You need me here? Huh? You all fuckin' empty?"
"Yeah," you whine with a desperate nod. "Empty."
His grip around your ribs tightens for a moment before he's pressing you into the ground—cushioned by the few blankets you carry. He's rolled you onto your belly as he covers you completely, his warmth seeping into your skin from his calves to his hot breath on your neck.
"What do you need?" he asks. As if he doesn't know; as if he didn't always know.
"You."
"Hm?" he hums, sweet and coaxing. "How?"
You reach blindly to find his wrist, gripping it firmly. "Hold me tight," you gasp between jagged breaths. "Please... Please."
His weight is heavy over you as he drops his lips to your neck, a silent acknowledgement of your pleas.
Then he's scooping you up, lifting you and rearranging you exactly the way you want him to. Because he fucking knows.
He has you pressed to his chest with your tits against his skin as he lays back into the makeshift bed you've created for the night. His arms wrap around you, one across your shoulder blades and the other around your waist—secure and firm. His fingers press sporadically into your skin a little more than needed, like he's testing his grip on you; like he's testing he has you in his arms good and tight.
Then he hooks one leg under yours, a gentle guide to part your legs just the way he needs.
"You ready for me, sweetheart?" he breathes against your temple as one of his hands leaves you. It's temporary, you remind yourself. He'd be wrapping you up securely as soon as he'd buried himself deep; once his cock was guided safely into your throbbing cunt.
You nip at his neck in response, chasing with a delicate lick at his salty skin. "Please," you ask softly.
Then he's adjusting you against him a little, ensuring you're exactly where he needs you to be. "I got you," he says as his leaking tip prods at your entrance. "Got you," he repeats. He mumbles this way as he teases; as he plays. This was what he did: pushed you to the brink of desperate sobs as he guides his cockhead over your slippery, throbbing cunt... over and over.... and over...
Saying he liked you needy was an understatement.
Then, eventually, he slips inside. Just the tip.. and not far. Just enough so that he can wrap his arms around you again. Just enough that he can have you whimpering his name as he prevents you grinding down to take him deep inside.
This is when he gives you a hint of his strength. It's easy to keep you from your goal, his strong arms pressing you into his torso a little harder each time you attempt to resist.
He keeps you there, just with a taste of that fullness—a taste of having him as close as it was possible to be. "Kiss," he says, simple and a little croaky.
You obey, pressing your desperation between his lips. It's messy and interrupted by moments where you simply need to breathe, heavily—his lips chasing yours as you attempt to catch your breath.
"Daryl," you gasp eventually. "Now. Please."
His grip around you tightens a little as you drop your face to his neck.
Then he pulls you down to meet his cock, to fuck himself deep. It's hard, exactly like you need it—exactly the way he knows you want it. You bite into his neck weakly as he keeps you there, stuffed full—the thick throbbing length of him stretching you out so completely.
Then, "Like that?" he asks, that sweetness back in his voice—like he's offering you a gentle back massage instead of holding you down on his cock.
You nod weakly in response.
His fingers press into your skin moments before he's moving, fucking himself with your cunt as he pulls you down to meet his messy thrusts. You're completely pliant like this, all control relinquished.
He's got you.
His breathing is quickly transformed into uneven pants as he attempts to grunt broken sentences into your ear. "Sucking me in... sucking at my cock with your messy little cunt... aren't you, baby? Hm?"
One of his hands moves to your hair occasionally, a temporary and seemingly subconscious attempt to get a better grip—or just to hold you closer. His fingers tangle in the strands, never tugging hard—never hurting.
"My girl," he grunts. "My needy little girl."
It's only when he's nearing his end that he flips you onto your back and you get a real display. He grips your hips and tugs you down to meet him as he uses you, each thrust a slapping of skin and punching a helpless sound from your lungs.
Strength. Everything you've been forced to remember.
"Daryl," you gasp. "Daryl, fill me. Please."
His fingers dig a little more into your skin, his hair falling over his eyes. Then his lips part, a grunt... a broken, "Fuck."
He falls over you as he floods you, his cock twitching and pumping you full—just like you asked. But even then, even as he loses himself, he catches his fall—arms landing either side of your head to cage you in. "Got you," he gasps out between desperate lung fulls of air. "I got you."
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