Daryl - Blog Posts

pls pls share your yumyulack/daryl headcanons and or ship prompts i’m very interested :3333

Marshmallow and Daryl as humans

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Prompt List

6 - “Why are you following me around like a lost duckling.”

19 - “Can't you just not work today?”

Daryl Dixon x Daughter!Reader

Words: 1027

Warnings/Notes: None

Not my image

It had been a long week up till now. The group was busy working in Alexandria. Some people gardening, others building up the wall or keeping watch. You woke up to an empty house, your father already out and working. You walk down the stairs as he comes in the door.

“I figured you’d be up about now. I’ll make ya some breakfast and then I gotta head back to work.” Daryl walks over to you after setting his bow down on the bench by the door. “What d’ya think of that?”

“Can’t you just not work today?” you complain to him all the time about how much he’s out and helping out.

“Pumpkin, we talked about this, I have to help out.” Daryl picks you up and carries you over to the kitchen. 

“But you’re always goneeee.” you drag out the end of your sentence. Adding a whining tone to your voice. Daryl sets you on the counter as he gets out the waffle maker.

“Hey, wha’td I say bout yer whinin’.” Daryl doesn’t look at you, but you can hear the sternness in his voice.

“Sorry daddy.” You fiddle with your fingers while you wait for him to turn back around. When he does he has the waffle mix and other instruments in his hands. 

“Yes!” you say with excitement, your fists shooting up.

“Figured you'd be excited.” He comments with a smirk as he begins mixing the batter.

you sit on the counter and help with what you can as your dad makes you waffles. You two have a great time talking and your cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

Eventually the waffles are all done and you two sit at the barstool and eat them. You watch as your dad eats only a couple and gives you the rest of his syrup.

“Why didn't you eat as much?” You pause shoving the waffles in your mouth to talk. 

“I had some food earlier this morning, so I ain't that hungry.” He says with a small smile.

You smile and shrug, shoving more waffles in your mouth. 

“Alright kid, I gotta get back t’ work.” He stands up and ruffles your hair, placing a kiss on the top of your head. 

“Can't you stay home today?” you finish eating your waffles and turn around to face him in you chair. 

“We talked about this kiddo, I gotta do this.”

“Then I can come with you?” you mouth shoots up in a smile and you run towards the stairs. “Lemme grab my stuff.”

You don't even give him a chance to say anything before you run up the stairs and grab your little messenger bag. You shove in your coloring book, a normal book, and some extra little things. 

You come down the stairs to him dressed back in his boots and jacket, standing with his arms crossed, his bow hanging off his shoulder.

“Alright, c'mon.” he says, nodding his head towards the door. 

“Hang on, I gotta put on my boots.” you plop on the floor next to the shoes, which are only yours and Daryl's at the most. 

When your done tieing them up, Daryl helps you to stand and hands you your pocket knife. He got it for you a while ago and wont let you leave the house without having it on you. 

“Ready?” he asks.

“Ready.” you look up and smile at him. 

He only nods before opening the door and holding it open for you. He shuts it behind him and walks alongside you. Today he has to get the bike ready so he can go out scouting with Aaron eventually. You two walk along the sidewalk, watching the few birds fly by or someone else on a walk. It's times like this that you miss with him. Even before Alexandria, when you were always on the run. You get to be with him all the time and do everything with him. You don't like being alone in the house all day every day.

When you make it to Aaron's house he greets you with a snack and juice.

“Thanks!” you say with a smile. Even after all the waffles you had just 20 minutes ago you eat the fruit he handed you right away and sipped on the juice. 

You follow Daryl into Aaron's garage and see the bike Daryl has been working on.

“Are we gonna be able to ride it just like your last one!?” You look at him with and excited expression plastered on your face.

"Eventually, I might change some things to make it easier, and we need to find you a helmet if we can.”

“How are we gonna find a motorcycle helmet for me?”

“I dunno kid. Even if it was just a bike helmet. Any type of helmet really.” He sits on the stool and begins messing with parts.

“How ‘bout ya sit in that chair over there and color or someth'n.” He nods towards a chair in the corner. 

“I think I'm gonna watch you.” you set your bag down in the chair and stand by where Daryl was working. You stay for a while like that day. Following him when he goes to the workbench or the other side of the bike.

“Alright kid, why are you following me around like a lost duckling?”

“I just wanna see what your doing, and I miss when we were together all the time.”

He stops what he's doing and looks up at you from his seat.

“Pumpkin, why didn't you tell me. I could have taken you with me more.”

“I dunno. I just figured you weren't alway gonna be this busy.”

“I get it, and I'm sorry. I didn't really notice that you wanted to come, I thought you would like having your own space.”

“I just miss you sometimes.”

“Alright, I'll tell you what, tomorrow we'll have a just us day. We can do whatever we want.”

“Alright.” a smile breaks out on your face and you giggle in excitement.

“Alright kid.” Daryl has a smirk on his face as he continues to work and you continue to watch.

Hope you enjoyed it!!

—--

@sofia-stark

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Thanks again and see you soon.

Prompt List

13 - "You fucked up, and now you have to fix it. I'm not just going to pretend you didn't hurt me."

Daryl Dixon x Daughter!Reader

Words: 1789

Warnings/Notes: same as show

Not my image

Daryl found you when you were little. Back when they first found the prison. He raised you like you were his own. You argued a lot, most of it is harmless. It wasn’t even arguing, just bickering. That’s just the way you two got along. You both loved each other and you both knew that. He introduced you as his daughter whenever it came up, and so did everyone else. Most of the time you agree on things. Sometimes things would come up and you would get mad at each other, like when you first started going on runs. Or when you started helping in battles. Or smaller things like overworking yourself or something. You two would have your argument, end it out of anger, not speak to each other for a little while, and then make up and come to an agreement. Daryl usually ends up giving in, just because he wants you happy. However, there are times that he’ll do whatever he thinks is right and won’t let you get a word in. That’s when you get really pissed, you ignore him for a little while, and usually, he lets you have your space. You always end up going back and apologizing anyway. 

After a little while of living in Alexandria, you get more and more comfortable living with everyone. Carl tries to get you to hang out with him and the other kids but you try to keep your distance. You convince yourself that you won't like hanging out with them anyway. You learn of different ways to sneak out of the walls. You learn when to sneak into the armory and when not to. You get good at listening to people around you and sneaking around them. The only thing you can’t do is sneak around Daryl. You’re a teenager of course you’re going to be rebellious, but you also want to go outside. You don’t want to get weak. You had talked to Carl in the beginning about training together, but he just follows his dad around all the time.

Eventually, you learn your father’s schedule as well. You learn when he’s home and when he’s not. When he’s outside the walls and when he’s not. You learn when to sneak out and when not to. You learn when Olivia records what's in the armory. Not to brag but you’ve gotten really good at sneaking around.

One day you decide to go out. Daryl is supposed to be out working around Alexandria for a while and Olivia is out helping as well. You sneak out of your and Daryl’s house and head towards the armory. You're careful to check your surroundings, making sure no one sees you, and if they do you act as casual as you can. You make it over to the armory and sneak in through the back door. Thankfully there are no surprise visits today. You grab your pistol and some ammo before sneaking back out the door. You put the extra ammo into the backpack you packed full of snacks and extra stuff. You’re careful when going through the courtyard, making sure to make it look like you're just going for a walk whenever someone sees you. You get to the spot you always use to climb over, the beam positioned so you can easily climb back up it. You do one last check before climbing up and over the wall.

After spending a while outside you realize that your dad will probably be getting home soon. You turn around and start to make your way back. You’re about halfway when you hear rustling to your side. You freeze in place and look around for a second. You don’t hear the growling of walkers or any other kinds of movements for that matter. 

“Hello?” you call out. You get no response so after a couple of seconds you decide it was probably nothing. You glance around one last time before continuing on your walk. It’s only after a few minutes that you hear the rustling again. 

“Ok, whoever is following me I know you're there.” you stop again and turn to where the rustling was. Suddenly you hear a whining in your ear and look to the tree you're standing next to to see an arrow a little too close to your head. You whip your head in the direction it was shot from and see Daryl stepping out from behind a tree.

“What the hell?” you stare him down as he walks closer to you.

“Don’t “what the hell” me! What the hell are you doin’?” He rips his arrow out from the tree.

“I just wanted to go outside for a little while. It's fine.” you snap at him. He of all people should understand not wanting to get weak.

“It’s fine!? Don’t tell me it’s fine. You could’ve died and non’ us woulda known.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t. I’m out here all the time and come back without a scratch.” you realize what you just said all too quickly, and as it hits your face, your father realizes it too.

“You what?” He stops pacing around and looks you dead in the eye.

“I come out here while you're gone at work sometimes. It’s no big deal.” you suddenly feel very defensive. “ I come back every time don’t I?”

“You could’ve gotten killed. What the hell?! You think you can just do fuckin’ whatever!? I’m here to take care of you. I can’t do that if you're trying to get yourself killed every goddamn day!” He points at you with the arrow still in his hand.

“I’m trying to make sure I don’t get weak. You can sit inside those walls and pretend there aren't walkers out here but you’re gonna get weak and when that happens I’m gonna be the one who fucking makes it. I’m gonna be the one protecting everyone else.” you can feel yourself getting more and more angry.

“Goddamn it! I’m not getting weak kid I’m trying to get us somewhere safe!” he starts his pacing again.

“And that’s fine! But I’m older now, you can’t expect me to just sit around. And I can do what I want! It’s not like you’re my real father anyway.” you realize what you said immediately and cover your mouth with your hands. “I’m sorry.” you whisper. 

Daryl just stares at you, you can see the hurt and betrayal on his face.

“Dad I’m sorry.” You feel the tears welling up and you can see the hurt in his eyes.

He stands and stares for a moment longer before he turns and starts walking back toward Alexandria. 

“Please, I didn’t mean it. I wasn’t thinking. Please listen to me!” you feel tears rolling down your face and you start sniffling. 

He just keeps walking so you trail behind him. You two walk in silence the whole way. Not a sound from each besides your occasional sniffle.

When you get back you both enter the house without a word and he goes straight to his room. Usually, you two will sit and eat and talk before going to bed. Yet you stand alone in the kitchen. You eat an apple in silence before heading up to your room and lying in bed. You expect to fall asleep with no problem, however, that’s not the case. You lay in bed for hours. The day’s events running over and over in your head. Eventually, you fall asleep, but you wake up again two hours later. The night goes on and on like that. Sleep for a couple of hours, awake for a couple.

Eventually, you wake up and head downstairs. Usually Daryl would either be there or would leave a note. Yet, no Daryl, and no note. You go through the whole day just sitting around worrying. You decide to go for a walk later but you end up just walking in circles around the neighborhood. 

At night when Daryl gets home you have dinner already ready. Set out on the counter and everything. Your waiting behind the counter when he walks in. You look up and smile as he shuts the door. You watch as he takes off his boots. As he hangs up his jacket and sets down his tools. And as he completely ignores you and walks up the stairs to his room. 

It goes on for multiple days like that. No talking, be barley even looks at you. After about a week your sick of it, so you decide to confront him.

“Dad, why won’t you talk to me? I apologized.” You ask him when he walks in one day.

“You never apologized kid.” He doesn’t even look up at you to say it, just continues to take off his boots.

“But I did. I apologized over and over. Right after it happened to. I didn't mean it, you know that.”

“No.” He just stays where he's sitting, both of his boots resting on the floor next to him. “No kid, I don't know that. I care for you. I know we don't say i much but I do. And when you said that it hit. Hard. You fucked up, and now you have to fix it. I'm not just going to pretend you didn't hurt me”

“But I'm trying, I said I was sorry, I tried to  make you dinner. I've waited for you every day thinking and worrying about what I said. I haven't even left the house since!”

“And how the fuck do you tink I can trust you right now!” He stands up surprisingly quick, making you take a step back. “You can’t be trusted right now. How do I know your not sneaking out every day still?”

“Because I can almost guarantee that you have someone watching the house at all times if not yourself.” you pause for a moment and can feel the tears welling up in your eyes. “I, have tried to make it up to you. I have thought on what I said every second since I said it. I never meant it. I will never mean it. Daryl, you have been my father for years now. Not whatever dude I barely remember anymore, you. You're my dad and I really, really mean it.” 

You have tears streaming down your cheeks and you can see the water in his eyes. Not that he would ever let you see him cry. He slowly steps toward you and reaches his hands out to you. you let him pull you in, he wraps one arm around the top of your shoulders and his other hand rests on the back of your head.

“‘s ok kid, we'll be ok.”

—--

I hope you enjoyed it!!

Thanks for reading, as always like, comment, and re-blog to support your writers and other artists.

Thanks again and see you soon.

Till the End - Ch. 3 - Pt. 2

Chapter 3

Shes Only Six

(notes - episode re-write y'all better love this. jk have ur own opinions lol but I hope you enjoy.)

photos from pinterest, moodboard by me

Crimson watches as the people around her pull out guns. She sees Hershel and the other young girl heading back for the door. She freezes. Unsure of what to do. The panic hit. The dead people are coming towards her, everyone is running around, and the world is just being too loud. She can hear Rick yelling at everyone, and at Lori, to get out of there. To get away from the walkers, but her feet are just stuck.

“Crim!” she suddenly hears a voice call her name. She snaps out of whatever trance she was in.

“Crim go with the others!” She turns her head for a moment to see Daryl yelling at her to follow Lori and the others. She suddenly takes off. She follows where Hershel and the younger girl go. She runs between the walkers, their limbs coming after her and their moans filling her ears. She catches up with them quickly, as the man is on crutches.

“Come on!” The younger girl yells at her and she runs up and grabs her hand. From there she helps Crimson up the stairs and into the gate. Herschel follows shortly after, taking out a walker with his crutch before making it safely into the gated area. She watches with them as Lori, another woman, and the young boy make it into a safe area.

When the walkers are gone Crimson waits with Hershel and who she learns is Beth for a while. Hershel tells Crim that Rick, Daryl, and who she learns is Glenn will make sure it’s safe.

Suddenly they all come running out, including two men she hasn't seen before. Hershel starts talking to them but Crim doesn’t listen as she bolts down the steps. At least as fast as she can for her size. She runs up to Daryl and clings to his leg like it will save her life.

“Wha the-” Daryl looks down at her with a bit of surprise on her face. He’s about to shove her off but then he hears a sniffle, and then another. Then suddenly he can feel her body shaking.

“Listen kid, ‘s gonna be alrigh’’” He puts his crossbow over his shoulder and leans down, picking her up. “Yer ok, ‘s gonna be ok.”

Crimson stops crying but shes still shaken up. Suddenly Rick stops talking, who she didn't really realize was talking in the first place. Everyone turns to look at the woman and the boy exiting one of the gates, with a baby. Daryl turns to face the direction of them, Crimson staying tucked in the crook of his neck. She watches as everyone starts crying, as their worlds seem to fall apart. Daryl feels her cuddle in even closer and he holds her head in his hand.

“‘Ts gon be alrigh’ Crim, ‘ts gon be alrigh’.”

Everyone stands around for a long while, letting everyone process the recent birth and death. After a little while Daryl sets Crim down and kneels in front of Rick. Crim watches as he waves his hand in front of Rick. Trying to get his attention. After it doesn’t work he gives up and tunes into everyon’s conversation about the baby.

“What’re we gonna feed it? We got anything a baby can eat?” Daryl gets up and walks toward Hershel. He looks over the baby for a minute before talking again.

“The good news is she looks healthy. But she needs formula. Hershel looks over to Daryl. By now Daryl is standing next to Crim again, and she's back to hugging his leg. Daryl rests a hand on the back of her head, still paying attention to Hershel.

“And soon or she won’t survive.” Hershel continues.

“Nope. No way. Not her. We ain’t losing nobody else. I’m goin' for a run.” Daryl says as he pulls his bow over his shoulder. Crimson clings harder to his pants, not wanting him to leave her again.

“Crim, I'll be back. You’ll be alrigh.” Daryl comforts the child.

“I’ll back you up.” Maggie says, followed by Glenn agreeing.

Daryl nods in their direction.

“Okay, I think we’re going. Beth.” He pulls her slightly away from the group.

“Kid just lost his mom, his dad ain’t doin' so hot.” Daryl lowers his voice as he says it.

“I’ll look out for him.” She agrees.

“Yea, and one more favor, introduce yourself to Crim and look out for her while I’m gone, she ain’t too comfortable here yet.” Daryl adds. Beth just smiles and nods in agreement.

As Daryl continues giving orders, Crim just stands and waits. The people still put her on edge, but she’s getting more used to them, although that outbreak was a huge scare for her. Suddenly Rick is up and running into the building, and everyone else is going everywhere. She doesn’t know exactly what to do or where to go. Daryl runs off with Glenn and Maggie, and Hershel, Beth, and the kid are all huddled around the baby. And just like that, she’s alone. She watches Daryl and Maggie take off on the bike, leaving Glenn behind.

Thanks for reading and as always like, comment, and re-blog! Hope y'all enjoyed!

-----

Part 1

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Till the End - Ch. 3 - Pt. 1

Chapter 3

Shes Only Six

(note - y'all better love me for this one it is partially an episode re-write.)

photos from Pinterest, moodboard by me

Thanks for reading and as always like, comment, and re-blog! Hope y'all enjoyed!

Crimson wakes up and looks around her cell once again. She realizes she has a pillow and some blankets on her bed that weren't there before. She looks around and misses her bright colorful walls and all of the toys sitting back at her house. She slides off of the bed and immediately stands up on her toes. Her bare feet froze at the touch of the cement floor. She quickly slides on her shoes and relaxes her feet. Crim walks out of her cell and looks between the railings on the balcony.

She sees Lori and another young girl helping an old man with crutches. The lower half of his leg seems to be missing. A young boy soon follows after, and she decides to follow them. She waits till they're through the prison door before running down the steps and following them.

She watches as the two girls speak words of encouragement to the man, and help him as he stumbles up the stairs. They get him out the door to outside and she quickly follows up the steps after them. She pulls open the heavy door and Lori turns around, hearing the door open again. Lori gives the girl a smile before quickly turning her attention back to the older man. She looks over to the boy and sees him staring at her. Not in a rude way, but not inviting her with open arms either.

Once Crimson makes it out of the gate she paces herself behind them as the older man, who she discovers name is Hershel after one of the men yells at him, gets used to walking on crutches. She looks past the man who yelled at Hershel and sees Daryl standing there with his crossbow. She raises her hand slightly and waves at him but gets no response.

“That girl you found seems to like you.” Rick comments at Daryl, not severing his gaze on his wife.

“‘Er names’ Crimson. Crimson Mills I think. She thinks her parents are coming back to get ‘er. She thinks they’re still alive.” Daryl pauses and watches the girl for a moment. “She hasn’t seen ‘em since they wen’ out scavenging days ago.”

“That’s too bad. You’re gonna have to take care of her, make sure she’s alright.” Rick turns for a moment to look at Daryl with a smirk. Rick knows that Daryl isn’t gonna be the best at it, but the kid seems to like him.

Suddenly Rick turns back around on his feet as he hears his son scream walkers, and shortly after hears a scream from Crimson. Rick, Daryl, and Glenn take off down the path in the direction of their family.

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Part 2

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Chapter 3!!!

For those of y'all in my Google Classroom Till the End chapter 3 is up! For the rest of you, it will be up 12:00 am EST, 10/14. If you'd like to join my Google Classroom it's attached to my pinned post or there is a separate post somewhere.

#13 from the prompt list please!

Hey Anon! So I was going to start working on this, but then I realized that I didn't know how you wanted it done!

If you're new here, I usually write Daryl x Daughter!Reader. However, I didn't know if you wanted that or just Daryl x Reader. I promise I'll get started just as soon as you get back to me. Or the second option is since a lot of my followers are here for Daryl x Daughter!Reader, but some may want it the other way, I write the same start and when it gets to the ending just switch it up to fit both and write "2" different fics.

Let me know what you want tho and I'll get right on it.

It's a Prompt List! - For Daryl Dixon

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Ok, so I actually love prompt lists because then I already have an idea for each one y'all just get to help me decide! These are for Daryl Dixon as he is the only character I'm writing for right now. If you join my Google Classroom you can find the prompt list there too. I'm only posting on Tumblr on scheduled dates, but on the Google Classroom things are posted when finished, even if they were requested on Tumblr, so if you wanna get things ahead of everyone else I suggest you head there. There is an info post attached to my account somewhere as well as on the pinned post.

“We will get through this. I promise.”

“Please come home.”

“Is that my shirt?”

“You can’t promise that.”

“Why are you so damn nice to me.”

“Why are you following me around like a lost duckling.”

“I love you, and that scares the shit outta me.”

“Stop pretending to be ok.”

“I hate it when you cry.”

“Why do you hate me so much.”

“Hey, can you help me out with something?”

“Sorry doesn’t just fix everything.”

“You fucked up, and now you have to fix it. I’m not just going to pretend you didn’t hurt me.”

“Why won't you tell me when you’re not ok?”

“I want to go home.” (Hospital)

“I hate this stupid bed.” (Hospital)

“Just a few more days, and you can come home.” (Hospital)

“I’ll stay right here the whole time.” (Hospital)

“Can't you just not work today?”

“I’m sorry it took me so long to realize I love you.”

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Parenting 1 - Headcanons - Daryl Dixon x Daughter!Reader

Parenting 1

Daryl’s Daughter

Daryl Dixon x Daughter!Reader

Words: 312

Warnings/Notes: none but whats in the show

Partially inspired by @rue-dixon so go check them out too <3

Not my image

Daryl wouldn’t want you out without a way to protect yourself. He would take you under his wing and teach you everything. 

If you're the same age as Carl you would know how to shoot before him, which would start a rivalry.

Daryl would have to scold you not to bring it up around him.

He would protect you with his life, always ready to get between you and a walker

When you have a nightmare he would be there to comfort you.

You wake up sweating, calling for him. He comes running right away.

Holding you and just telling you it's okay over and over again.

Letting you lay with him when you want to.

If anyone asks he couldn’t get you to move. Over time he just accepts it.

Whenever he hugs you he puts his hand on the back of your head.

Kisses to the top of your head during hugs, only when no one can tell.

When you are little you just follow him around like a lost puppy.

He wouldn’t want you going on runs, ever, period.

If you do he makes sure to go on every one for the first while.

If it’s one of the times the group gets stuck out on the road, he wouldn’t let you more than arm's length away.

He would always worry whenever he was away from you for too long.

Always uses nicknames for you, some just from your name, others like “kid” or when you were younger “duckling” because you always followed him around.

Always makes sure to listen when you need him to.

As you get older and need more space he has to learn to give you that too

Trusts you with his life, and you trust him with yours.

He knows you can handle yourself

If you ever got kidnapped or killed, no mercy

Period

—--

Hope you enjoyed it!!

Thanks for reading, as always like, comment, and re-blog to support your writers and other artists.

Thanks again and see you soon.

Till the End - Ch. 2 - Pt. 2

Chapter 2

The New

photos from Pinterest, moodboard by me

Once your eyes adjust to the light you see that inside is all grey. They have shelves and racks of food and bottles of water. You follow Daryl down the steps and towards a table. You watch from a small distance as he unpacks the food he took from your house and sets it all on the appropriate shelves. “C’mon, let's get you settled in somewhere.” Daryl says after putting everything away. He tries to use as gentle of a voice as he can and less sharp movements. “Can’t I stay with you?” Crimson asks, catching up to Daryl as he walks through a door. When they enter the room Crim realizes they’ll be staying in cells. The thought scares her a little, but not as much as benign alone outside. “Nah kid, yer gettin' put in yer own cell.” Daryl sounds a little ruder than he means to, but no way was this kid sleeping in the same cell as him. He saved her and that's it. “Oh, ok, well where’s your’s?” Crim is slightly saddened that the man won't let her sleep near him, it would make her feel a whole lot safer, Something about him just feels like she can trust him, like he will keep her safe no matter what. “Up ‘ere.” Daryl mutters, pointing up the stairs. “Can I pick one next to you?” Crimson asks, looking up at him with as much of a puppy-eye look as she can muster up. Daryl stops for a second and looks at her. Does she really think that look is gonna work on him? It is kinda cute, and she is only little. No, snap outta it, he thinks to himself. Why was he suddenly sympathetic towards this random kid? “Pick whichever one ya want.” Daryl waves his hand in the air as he runs up the stairs and into his cell. Although Crimson can tell that he doesn’t like her, he is the only person she knows around here. She slowly walks up the stairs and peeks into Daryl’s cell. She sees him throwing the bag he used on his top bunk, then turning and sitting on his bottom bunk for a moment. Crimson then realizes she’s spying and backs away. She checks the cell to the left of his and it’s empty. She decides that this will be her cell. She takes off her backpack and puts it on the bed. She then sits next to it and takes out Moo Moo. She sits and observes the empty walls for a while, swinging her legs and talking to herself in her head. Some time later Daryl opens the curtain that divides her from the rest of the cell block. He sees the young girl passed out on her bunk, Moo Moo under her head for a pillow, and her feet are still hanging off the edge of the bunk. Dary enters the cell as quietly as he can. He grabs the pillow out from under his arm and places it at the head of the bed. He then lays down a thicker blanket he had on his bed, it's not like he needs an extra blanket anyway. Daryl sets the rest of the blankets he brought in on the end of the bed. He carefully removes Crim’s shoes, thankfully they were easy to slide off. He then picks her up and moves her to the center of the bed. While he’s moving her he realizes it's only the middle of the day, but he then also realizes that he doesn’t know the age of this kid, and she may be used to taking naps every day. By the time he snaps out of his train of thought he’s put the other two blankets over her. He puts her shoes on the floor at the foot of her bed and puts her backpack on the table on the opposing wall. He grabs the stuffed animal from where it has fallen on the floor when he picked her up and sets it next to her. He stands there observing for a moment before swiftly exiting the cell.

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Part 1

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Till the End - Ch. 2 - Pt. 1

Chapter 2

The New

photos from Pinterest, moodboard by me

Daryl looks down to once again check on the little girl riding in front of him. When he sees that she's okay and isn’t scared, he goes even faster. Crimson has a huge smile on her face, the ride on the bike is exciting and new to her. It scares her at times, like when he turns and the bike leans, but it’s still fun. When Daryl pulls back up to the gate Crimson is giggling from the way the bumps make her feel, and if you look close enough you can see a smirk on Daryl’s face. Daryl slows down and uses his feet to keep the bike steady. Rick and Glenn come running up to the gate and quickly slide it open. Daryl hits the gas once again to get the bike inside and stops a small way up the path. He waits for Rick and Glenn to close the gate and come around to the front of the bike. Rick and Glenn are taken by surprise when they see the small girl grinning in front of Daryl. They both look confused and share uneasy glances. Crimson stops smirking and sinks back into Daryl’s chest when she notices the two seemingly angry men looking at her. “We’ll talk later.” Daryl looks between the two and takes off after getting a nod from Rick. “How are we gonna take care of another kid?” Glenn turns to look at Rick with his head slightly to the side. “I have no idea.” Rick watched Daryl drive up the road some before turning to look at Glenn. Glenn just smirked and shrugged before walking off to continue working, Rick following shortly after. Daryl pulls through the open gate and parks his bike by the other cars. He pulls the kickstand out and slowly and carefully leans the bike on it, making sure Crimson is stable enough to stay on it. Lori and Carol come out at this time and see Daryl lifting the girl off the bike. Daryl glances up to see them walking out and decides that they could probably comfort her and get her cleaned up better than he could. “This is Lori, and that there is Carol.” Daryl looks down at the little girl, who seems more frightened of them than she was of him. “They can help get ya cleaned up and settled in.” Daryl steps around her as he talks, getting the supplies he found off the bike. He hoists it on his shoulder and watches how Lori interacts with Crimson. “Hi, I’m Lori. This is Carol.” Lori bends down in front of the girl, not too close but within arm's length. Carol simply smiles down at the girl. “We’re gonna take you in and get you cleaned up. And then you can pick out your own room, how about that?” At that moment the two girls were just too close for Crim to be ok with. She has a worried and scared look on her face and quickly rushes to where Daryl is standing next to her. Crimson grabs a small part of his pants, just enough to where she will know if he moves. Lori just stands up and smiles. “Looks like she's attached.” Lori comments before patting Daryl on the shoulder and walking back into the prison. Carol gives Daryl a nod before heading to where Rick and the others are. “Well, I guess yer stuck with me.” Daryl looks down at the girl and gives her a small smirk before nodding for her to follow him into the prison. “Not that I know what to do with ya.” he mutters under his breath before opening the gate, letting you through, and closing it behind him. “Follow me I guess.” Daryl half mumbles to you before leading you inside. -----

Part 2

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Google Classroom - Daryl Dixon

(and the rest of the walking dead)

Please come and visit! We would love to talk and see you around!

All of my work is collected here, as well as a place for us to talk, for you all to share your work or what your working on, get help, and of course, to talk about whatever we want!

Link: https://classroom.google.com/c/NTI5ODk0MjU4Mzc1?cjc=4o3eotm

Class Code: 4o3eotm

Till the End - Chapters and Links

Main Moodboard

All Moodboards - On Pinterest

Intro

Chapter 1: Endings and Beginnings

Daryl finds a girl who has just lost the only people she has left

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Chapter 2: The New

When they get back to the compound, Crimson is scared, and wont leave Daryl's side

Part 1

Part 2

Chapter 3: Shes Only Six

Currently in the Works

Jo's Library

The Walking Dead:

Till the End - A story about Daryl Dixon and his found daughter Crimson as they navigate this new life, as well as taking care of another person.

The Meeting - Daryl x Daughter!Reader

Learning Moments - Daryl x Daughter!Reader

Sick Day - Daryl x Daughter!Reader

Parenting 1 - Daryl x Daughter!Reader

Prompts 6 & 19 - Daryl x Daughter!Reader

Prompt 13 - Daryl x Daughter!Reader

Till the End - Ch. 1 - Pt. 2

Chapter 1

Endings and Beginnings

photos from Pinterest, moodboard by me

“I gotta go on another run soon, we’re gonna run low on supplies.” Daryl looks up at Rick from his gun. He woke up early this morning to clean it before going out. “Alright, you want me to go with you?” Rick looks at him over his water bottle. “Nah, I’ll only be out a bit.” Daryl finishes cleaning his gun at that moment, clicking everything back into place. Rick only nods at Daryl before walking back towards his cell, most likely to get Judith. Daryl nods back and walks in the opposite direction towards the door to the outside. Daryl has a funny feeling in him today, like he’s going to find something that he shouldn’t. Or at least that he wouldn't normally find. He shakes the feeling out of him as he grabs his jacket off of where it's hanging on his bike’s handle. He checks his bags and sees that he has a little food and two water bottles. That should last him long enough to go to the closest town. He slides onto the seat and turns on the bike. Glenn meets him at the gate to slide it open and they exchange a nod as Daryl takes off towards the road. He enjoys the calming ride through the forest and down the open road. When he reaches the neighborhood he easily rides past the walkers and parks in front of a house with a closed door. Its front gate is closed and the front door is shut as well. Which means either people are hiding out in there or someone died inside. He holds his crossbow in one hand and opens the gate with another. There are no walkers in the yard and it doesn’t look like any have even tried to get in. The yard looks fine other than some overgrown grass and weeds. No sign of struggle anywhere. He reaches the front door and knocks a couple of times, if someone is still living here he’ll just leave and go to another house. No one answers and no walkers can be seen or heard from where he's at. “Alright.” he mutters to himself, fine with the idea that this house might be full of stuff he can use and that he may only have to go to one or two others before heading back. He slowly opens the door and peeks inside. When no one and nothing comes at him he goes all the way in. Daryl holds his bow up, ready to shoot. He walks through the living room, a coloring book with crayons lying out on the table. An empty cup sits next to it, and that's when he realizes. There's condensation on the cup. No dust on the table, or at least not as much not as much as there should be. Daryl walks up and touches the coloring on the book. The crayon rubs off on his finger. “Someone was here? With a kid?” He mutters to himself again. He turns around and still holding up his bow, walks into the kitchen. He scans the room before opening the door to the small pantry. Then he realizes it’s fully stocked. He looks in the cupboards and sees that they're fully stocked as well.

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Part 1

Part 3

This is kinda the sucky intro chapter to the story but thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!

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Till the End - Ch. 1 - Pt. 3

Chapter 1

Endings and Beginnings

photos from Pinterest, moodboard by me

“Why are you in my house?” Comes a voice from behind him. Daryl spins around and aims towards where the voice came from. He sees a sharp movement from lower towards the ground and aims his bow lower till her can see. “P-please don’t hurt m-me.” A small girl has tears running down her face and is hugging a stuffed cow close to her. “Your ‘ight. I ain’t gon hurt ya.” Daryl lowers his aim off of the girl and looks her over for a minute. “Where's your parents kid?” Daryl looks around the corner to see if someone is about to come in after her. “They left a couple of days ago and haven't come back.” The girl sniffles as she talks, making it take longer for her to respond. “Sorry kid but they're probably gone.” Daryl decides to talk to the kid since he doesn’t think she’s going anywhere else, at least not for a while. “You mean they're not coming back?” The little girl looks like she’s about to start crying all over again and Daryl is too busy taking cans and jars out of the girl’s pantry to realize it. “Nah kid, they’re-” Daryl stops when he hears the girl start crying again, this time harder. “Ah, shit. Look I’m sorry. I’m not used to kids.” Daryl kneels on the ground in front of her in hopes that he can calm her down. He doesn’t know what else to do, yet before he can come up with anything the girl leans her body onto his. Daryl’s body tenses and freezes on the touch. He sits like that for a moment before he cautiously moves his arms around her. “What's your name kid?” Daryl speaks as softly as he can, realizing that his voice may scare her. “Crimson.” She says through her sniffles. “Daryl Dixon.” he simply says back to her. “Oh, Crimson Mills. That's my full name.” She pulls out of the weird hug slowly, just enough to see his face. Daryl keeps his hands on her shoulders, as if she may run away. “Alright Crimson Mills, would you like to come back to where I’m staying? I hate to break it to you, but your parents probably aren’t coming back. But I’ll tell you what, we can leave them a note so they can find you if they do come back?” Daryl tries to sound as nice as he can, and he tries to read her face but he can’t tell if she's going to start crying again or not. Instead of replying, Crimson just nods her head. “Alright, do you want to write the note?” Again, Crimson just nods in response before she runs off. Daryl sits for a moment, lost in thought. What the heck were they going to do with a kid? He only wastes a second more before packing up the rest of the kid’s food. By the time he’s brought the bag out to his bike, he sees that the girl has left the note on the counter. She had come down a little earlier to ask where to put that her parents could pick her up. He told her to just write the prison, and they would know where it was. She came out the door with the backpack on, full of the things that Daryl had helped her pack. Some clothes, her coloring book, her string that she used to make bracelets, and she held her stuffed cow, who he has learned is named Moo Moo, in her arms. “Ready? I ain’t wain all day.” She only nods yes in return and shuts the door to her house behind her. When she sees that none of the monsters are close, she walks to the gate. She glances up at Daryl, sending him a worried look. “ ‘Ts alright, they won’t get ya” He opens the gate for her and lets her through before closing it behind her. He lifts her up and sets her on the motorcycle seat, in front of where he will sit. He shows her where to lean forward slightly and hold onto the handlebars. “Ready?” Daryl looks down and expects her to only nod, but to his surprise, she responds. “Yes, I love motorcycles.” He sees the giant grin on her face and almost smirks himself. As they take off towards the prison Crimson doesn’t even realize that her parents are with all the other monsters watching as they drive by. Her thoughts stuck to the fact that she was riding on a motorcycle. She is only six.

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Part 1

Part 2

I promise it gets better, this is kinda just the sucky intro chapter

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Till the End - Ch. 1 - Pt. 1

Chapter 1 Endings and Beginnings

photos from Pinterest, moodboard by me

Crimson sits coloring in her book in her living room. Her parents went out a while ago and haven’t come back. Although when she thinks about it they’ve gone out for a while before and come back every time. Plus, at the age of six, a kid isn’t thinking about how long their parents have been gone. Crimson finishes one page after another as she waits and waits for her parents to come back. Just like she does every time. She tried to go with them one time. She was curious and wanted to see what they did every time they left the house. She was never allowed to go outside anymore. She got to open the upstairs windows sometimes, and the fresh air was always nice but she wanted to go outside. She saw people walking all the time. Up and down the streets. Sometimes they would walk with each other. She didn’t understand why they never talked to each other or why they just bumped into each other until she went out.

Going outside was the most terrifying thing she's ever done. She watched as what she once thought were people attack her parents. She watched as they stabbed each and every one. Over and over again. Until she couldn’t watch anymore and she ran inside. She hasn’t looked out a window since. And now she's finished another coloring page since her parents have been gone. Eventually, she looks towards the window and it’s dark. Now she starts to worry, a weird feeling rising up in her stomach. She decides to go upstairs and put herself to bed, thinking her parents would be proud to come home to her already in bed. She changes into her pjs and even reads her book to herself, or at least she tries. She puts her book on her bedside table and grabs her favorite stuffed animal cow. She named him Moo Moo when she first got him. It’s been her favorite ever since. She gets under the blankets and pulls them up to her neck. She grabs Moo Moo and pulls him under with her. She pulls him in close, snuggling with him, her little body curled into a little ball. “Goodnight, Moo Moo.” She quietly says to the stuffed cow, as if it would speak back. Crimson’s eyes quickly grow tired, and she quickly falls asleep.

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Part 2

Part 3

This is kinda the sucky intro chapter but I hope y'all enjoyed anyway. make sure to go look at pt. 2

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Till the End - Intro

Intro Welcome to the Beginning of the End

It was the end of the world. For anyone and everything. Seriously, it was the end. The ones who are still here are the ones who made it past. We completed the game and then we just kept going. It was hard though. It still is. Sometimes we're too busy running for our lives to even think about the fact that we are running from our lives from things we never thought possible. And then there are other times when we're so bored and don't have a clue what to do with ourselves. I like it when we're in the middle. When we're going on adventures and when we get to see what there is in the world, and when I get to train with Daryl. But not to the point where we're literally running for our lives. I just want you all to know my story. Our story, and how we made it past the end, and then we made it past the end again, and again, and again. My name is Crimson, Crimson Rue Mills, and my father is Daryl Dixon. I was 6 when this whole thing happened. I mean the end of the world. When the walkers showed up. You know what I'm talking about. Anyway, here's my story if you wanna listen.

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Sick day

Sick Day Daryl’s Daughter Daryl Dixon x Daughter!Reader Words 1174 Warnings/Notes: Sick, passing out, none other than the show

not my image

You wake up one morning feeling dizzy and nauseous. You roll over and look to see if Daryl is still in bed or if he’s already out and about. You see his pillow and pile of blankets but not him. “Daryl?” you call out, hoping he’s somewhere near the tent. When you get no response you decide to get up and look to see if he’s in the camp or out hunting. You climb out of your tent and realize you are more dizzy than you thought and your head hurts like hell. “Daryl?” you call out again, this time holding your hand up to your head. You get no response and try to walk farther towards the rest of the camp but your head is spinning and you can barely stand up right. “Y/n? Are you ok?” you hear someone say before you fall to the ground and pass out.

“Someone needs to get Daryl, now!” Lori says with a firm tone, and one of the people goes running off. Lori is still holding the girl from when she caught her, breaking her fall moments ago. “What happened?” a young Carl comes running up beside his mother. “We don’t know right now but I need you to wait by the rest of the group. That goes for the rest of you too.” Lori waves them all away with her hand. “She could be sick and we don’t want everyone else to get sick as well.” As everyone is walking away Lori picks up the young girl and brings her back to Daryl’s tent where she had been staying. She puts the girl on her cot and checks her head and neck for a fever. That's when she felt that she was burning up. Just as Lori was about to leave and see if they had found Daryl yet he came running up to the tent. “Where is she? Is she ok?” He seemed frantic and worried. “She's right here, Daryl. She is burning up and probably has a fever, which means she might be throwing up and coughing a lot later.” Lori tries explaining to him but he doesn't seem to be listening as he sits down and feels her for himself. “Daryl, are you listening? You're going to need to keep an eye on her.” “Yea, I hear ya.” “Ok, let me know when she’s up and I’ll heat up some soup for her. Don’t let her eat sweets or drink any pop or anything.” “Alright, I got it, will you just let me sit with her?” Daryl said it a little louder than he meant to, and probably a little too harsh, but he really just wanted to make sure that his girl was ok.

When you wake up the first thing you feel is Daryl’s hand in yours. You slowly open your eyes and it feels like the sun is too bright and the world is spinning. “D-Dary-l?” You croak the words out, and it takes all of your strength to do so. “Hey, it's ok kid, I got ya, you're ok.” he shoots up so he's right up next to the bed. “E-Everything h-hurts.” you take long and deep breaths after talking. “It’s gonna be ok kid, don’t waste your energy talkin’. I got you.” Daryl moves one of his hands up to brush your hair out of your face. He keeps it on your head after, moving his thumb over your forehead. He keeps his other hand interlocked with yours. You look into his eyes for a while before drifting off to sleep.

It’s been an hour before you wake back up. “Hey kid, how ya’ feelin’?” Daryl smiles at you from his spot on his cot. “Not any better.” you let out a couple coughs before continuing. “Can I have some food?” “Oh right, Lori told me to tell her when you woke up, I’ll be right back.” He leans down and kisses the top of your head before unzipping and stepping out of the tent. “Alright.” you reply, although it’s more for yourself since he can’t even hear you.

Daryl returns a couple minutes later. “Lori is gonna make you some soup. Said it’s got healthy stuff in it.” He smiles as he says healthy stuff. You smirk back. He always jokes with you about how you two eat things differently or act differently from everyone else. “Can you read me my book while we wait? Please?” You're still smiling and it melts his heart that little bit more every time. “I guess, which one do you want?” He always pretends to be grumpy about doing things for you. Things that “show his emotions” as you like to call it. “Y-you pick.” you let out a couple more coughs before settling down facing him. He only gets about halfway through when Lori knocks on your tent. “Hang on.” Daryl sets the book down next to you and clears everything off your foldable table before quickly opening the tent and taking the soup from her. “Thank you, Lori.” He gives her a quick nod. “I appreciate it.” She gives him a smile before looking down at you. “And how are you doing? Feeling any better?” She smiles at you. You just shake your head no in response and turn back to face the rather large bowl of soup. “Alright well I’ll leave you two alone then. Get some rest y/n.” Lori looks up and exchanges a nod with Daryl one last time before zipping the tent back up and leaving. “Can you sit up? To eat?” Daryl kneels by your bed again to help you sit up if you need. You simply shake your head no and struggle a little but sit up as much as you can. “Here.” Daryl holds the pot by the handle and gets a spoonful. You expect him to hand it to you but instead he brings it up to his mouth and blows on it. He then takes the whole thing into his mouth. He sits and chews for a moment before nodding his head slightly and getting another spoonful. He brings it back up to his mouth and blows before bringing it up to yours. You take a bite and chew. You smile at the warmth in your scratchy raw throat. He repeats this process with you over and over again. Eventually you finish the soup and he sets the pot back down. “Want me to finish the book?” he reaches over and grabs it, holding it up in front of you. You just nod yes and he gives you a little smile before starting to read again. You lay back down and let Daryl’s voice carry you to sleep. Once Daryl saw that she was asleep he carefully pulled the blankets up to her shoulders and tucked her in. He sat there for a moment after. Just watching her and thinking. Eventually he gets up and lays in his own cot, ready to get some sleep himself.

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Commissions: Open

Meet Crimson Rue Mills

Photos are from Pinterest, mood board created by me.

This is Crimson, also known as Crim. She was only 5 when the world ended. Yet in a way, it was when hers began.

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Her story is currently in progress. As always like, comment, and re-blog to support your writers and other artists on Tumblr

Thanks for taking the time to view my work, see you next time.

But imagine Daryl comforting you after you freak out because you just barely escaped a bunch of walkers and you're having a panic attack and you can't breathe and the world is just too much in the moment and you can't take all the noise and you just need someone to hold you so he pulls you into his lap and covers your ears and tells you that you're ok.

The Meeting

Daryl’s Daughter

Daryl Dixon x Daughter!Reader

Words: 1486

Warnings/Notes: None but what happens in the show

not my image

You sit in the closet's darkness, afraid to move even an inch. You can hear them outside, moving and groaning. You hear the wind as it blows through the house's open windows. Your parents were nowhere to be found. They put you in the closet in a hurry. It scared you when it all started, they jumped up in a rush after watching the TV one day. They grabbed you and a pillow and blanket off the couch and ran straight towards the closet under the stairs. They practically threw you in there with the pillow and blanket. They told you not to make a sound or move an inch till they got back, before shutting the door. You could hear them talking, something about a disease, and leaving for supplies. You sat and listened as their footsteps went all over the house, upstairs and downstairs. Up and down the halls and in all the rooms. Eventually, they came down the stairs with something heavy, you could hear it thudding. After a minute of them talking about things you couldn't hear, they open the door and tell you to come out. You don't remember the conversation much. Something about getting supplies and then coming back. You begged them to take you with them but they just kept saying no. They then gave you your backpack filled with whatever they were running around the house for. The thing is, they left with suitcases and bags and never came back. It's been weeks, and you are still too scared to leave the closet. You’ve gone through what they gave you a million times. 2 shirts, 1 pair of pants, 1 pair of shorts, 5 pairs of underwear, 5 pairs of socks, 2 books, 1 notebook, 2 pens, a pair of scissors, and all of your mom's colorful string. They also gave you a pillow, blanket, your favorite stuffed animal, a sweatshirt, a pair of shoes, and a ton of food and multiple waters in another bag. Your mom had taught you how to make bracelets with the string so for the past couple of weeks you've kept yourself busy coloring, reading, and making bracelets.

You awake from your sleep to hear a loud bang. You shoot up, holding your stuffie close.

“Hello?” you hear a deep voice shout out. You don't say anything or even breathe too loud.

“Anybody home?” the voice calls out again. Your heart feels like it's going to pound out of your chest as you listen to the footsteps run all around your house. They get right outside the door and stop in front. Time seems to slow down as they reach for the handle and turn. The door swings open all of a sudden and you look up to see a man looking down at you with a crossbow pointed straight at your head.

The man suddenly lowers his weapon and kneels down in front of you.

“Hey kid, I’m not going to hurt you.” He hangs his bow over his shoulder and reaches his arm out to you. “My name is Daryl, Daryl Dixon, what's yours?”

“y-y/n y/l/n” you stutter out.

“That's a nice name y/n, do you wanna come with me and we can take care of you.”

“My parents said to wait here.” you tell the man you know as Daryl.

“I hate to break it to you kid, but they aren't returning. If you want to survive you have to come with me.”

“Can I bring my stuff and wait for them with you, I’ll leave a note so they can find me.”

“Sure kid, just try and hurry.” he stands back up and turns to look around the house, we gotta go so pack your shit quick.”

“Hey! My mommy said that a naughty word.”

“Whatever kid, just hurry up and pack.” Daryl turns and points at you before turning back around and walking around your house collecting random things. You quickly pack up your things and write a note to your parents. You leave it in the closet and shut the door. 

“I'm ready,” you say as Daryl comes walking down the stairs.

“Alright, let's go.” he glances at you before nodding towards the door and walking towards it. You quietly follow after him. He opens the door and checks around before leaving. You continue to quietly walk after him.

After a while, he stops and kneels in front of you.

“Alright kid, I need to check this last store before we head out. There's gonna be walkers so I need you to wait out here got it? If one comes at you scream for me and run inside the store ok?”

“Ok.” you nod your head before sitting against the wall where he showed you to sit.

“I shouldn't be long,” he says before checking through a store window and going inside.

You wait outside for a little while before you start to get bored. To take up some time you decide to look around. You didn’t plan on going far, just to look at the street. You end up wandering further than you thought and can't seem to find your way back.

“Daryl?” you call out. You hold your stuffie close and turn yourself in circles. All of a sudden you see someone rounding the corner. But it's not someone, it's one of the other things. You still don't know what to call them, you just know that they're bad. You scream for Daryl again but there's still no reply.

“Daryl, help please!” you decide to run so you start running. You don't know where to you just let your legs carry you. 

“Daryl, please help!” you trip over a rock while looking pack and the walker is almost on top of you. That's what Daryl called them right? Walkers? You start sliding backwards but you bump into a car. 

“No! Daryl Please!” you scream one last time before closing your eyes and covering your face. And just like that it was quiet. The moaning and scraping of the walker's feet was gone. You slowly open your eyes and peek through your arms. There you see Daryl with a knife in his hand. 

“C’mon kid, I told you to stay there,” he says, a little louder than he meant. The girl looked frightened already and yelling probably just made it worse.

“Look kid, I’m sorry, but we have to get back, it's going to get dark soon,” he says, kneeling down. “C’mon” he reaches for you and before you know it he’s carrying you down the street. Before you know it you passed out on his shoulder. 

Daryl continues to carry you down the streets till he gets to his motorcycle. You wake up when he bounces you a little and stay awake enough to sit up on the seat while he puts his findings into the side bags. When he's done he sits down behind you and makes sure you're sitting right.

“Alright kid hold on.” he starts up the motorcycle and the sound wakes you right up. You hold onto the middle of the handlebars right where he showed you and he takes off. You enjoy the ride down empty streets and through the forest. After a short ride, you arrive at what looks like a camp. You see many people coming out of the tents and the woods to look at you guys coming in. Daryl parks the motorcycle and picks you back up. You get shy with all the people around you and snuggle your head into the crook of his neck. You can feel people looking at and talking amongst each other.

“What are we gonna do with her?” you hear one man say.

“How is she still even alive by herself?” you hear another say.

“We can talk about this in a minute, right now I’m going to get her some food and water and let her sleep in my tent. She's had it rough today.” Daryl only stands there for a second more before walking away. You peek back at everyone and see men and women, and even a couple of children. You quickly look away and turn to face in front of you. Daryl opens a tent and brings you inside.

“Here, eat this.” he sits in front of the cot he set you down on and opens a can.

“It’s fruit, kids like that, right?” you nod and take the can from him and look inside. From what you remember it looks to be pears. You quickly scarf them down and take a couple of sips of water from the water bottle he hands you.

“Thank you,” you say after swallowing a swig of water.

“No problem kid, get some rest.” he pats your head before opening the tend and closing it behind him. It doesn't take you long to fall asleep.

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Commissions: Open

Learning Moments

Daryl’s Daughter Daryl Dixon x Daughter!Reader 1263 Warnings/Notes: None

not my image

“Eat up.” Daryl says as he throws a plate of food in front of you. “I don’t like broccoli.” You cross your arms and whine. “I don’t care, you have to eat.” Daryl stands above you with his hands on his hips. “The other kids are eating just fine.” He waves his hand in their direction where they’re eating with their families. “I will eat I just don’t like broccoli.” you look up at him with a pouty face and your arms crossed. “I don’t want it.” “Fine, don’t fuckin’ eat.” Daryl throws his arms up and walks away towards the tent you two have been sharing. You watch him until he zips the door shut and you see his shadow lying down on the bed. You look back down at your food and stare for a minute before picking up your spoon and eating the funny-looking soup Daryl had heated up for you just a little earlier. You take a spoonful and chew. It was the perfect temperature. Not too hot, not too cold. The perfect temperature and it didn’t taste too bad. You continue to eat and realize that he always makes things a good temperature and gives you the better of the things he found or hunted for that day. After a little while you finish the soup and look over at Carl sitting with his mom and dad, and the other kids sitting with their families. You watch as the other kids eat the food without complaining and they finish and go play after. Lori waves at you and you smile and wave back before quickly looking back down at your food. You pick up one of the pieces of broccoli and realize that he heated it up for you. You chew and swallow, chew and swallow. It's still nasty, and you still hate it, but you know you're not supposed to waste food.

“I ate all my food.” You say as you unzip and walk into your and Daryl’s shared tent. You get no response so you just put your plate and silverware next to the others to be cleaned tomorrow. You climb into the cot and pull your blankets up around you, hugging your stuffed animal close. “Goodnight Daryl.” you say before drifting off to sleep.

You wake up the next morning and turn over to look at Daryl’s cot. As always, he’s not there. Probably out hunting or something like that. You get up and change into your clothes for the day. You exit the tent to find Carol waiting by a tree nearby. “Hi, Carol.” You wave and give her a small smile. “Hi sweetheart, would you like to come to wash the clothes with me and the girls?” She asks me, getting up from her spot under the tree. “Sure, let me grab Daryl and I’s clothes real quick.” You say before running back into the tent to gather everything.

“Alright, let's go.” you come out a couple of minutes later with a rather large bucket full of a mix of your and Daryl’s clothes. “Alright, c’mon.” she nods her head in the direction of the rest of the camp and starts walking. “Wait, do you know where Daryl is, I should probably tell him where I’m going.” You ask while catching up with her. “I don’t know, but I’m sure it will be fine. I bet we’ll be done before he even gets back and then you can surprise him with your hard work.” She smiles down at you. “Alright.” you walk with Carol to the quarry where some of the women are already at work cleaning things.

“Carol, will you teach me how to clean this stuff, I don’t really know how?” “Of course, just do what I do.” “Ok”

You spend a good portion of the day cleaning with everyone. You realize that it’s a break from all of your normal activities, which at this point are boring and repetitive. You’ve finished cleaning all the clothes and ran back up to get the dishes. You're halfway through the dishes when you hear familiar shouting. “Y/N! What the fuck!?” you shoot up and spin to face the shouting. You see Daryl coming down the hill and he looks pissed. You stand there in shock, unsure of whether to move or not. The other women have gotten up at this point and are gathering around to see what's going on. “What the fuck are you thinking!?” He screams again and is still coming towards you at a quick speed. “Hey! What are you screaming for?” Lori steps up and runs up towards him, meeting him halfway. “Get outta my way Lori, this is between me and the kid.” “No, you have no right to scream at her.” Lori has her hands on her hips and she looks pissed too. “Lori, this is between me and my kid, if she keeps fucking disappearing we're gonna have a problem.” He points at you over her shoulder. “Now let me talk to my kid.” “Ok, so that's what this is about.” She lets out a sigh. “Daryl, I would be pissed if Carl just walked off too, but screaming at her like that is only gonna scare her.” Daryl takes a second to process what Lori has just said before you see his body relax. “Sorry, she just worries me sometimes.” “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.” Lori gives him a look before stepping out of the way so he can get to you. “Listen, kid, I’m sorry for yelling, can we talk for a minute?” He kneels down on one knee so he's face to face with you. You just nod in agreement and follow him as he starts to walk back up the hill.

You make it back to his tent before either of you say a word. You sit on your cot and wait for him to say something. After a while of watching him sit on his cot and stare at the ground, he finally says something. “First off, I’m sorry for yelling.” he pauses and glances up at you. “And second, I didn't mean to scare you, I just got worried when you weren't where you were when I left this morning and you weren't doing activities with the other kids.” He finally looks back at me and holds eye contact. “I'm sorry too. I knew I should have asked I just didn’t know where you were and Carol said you were ok with it.” “Ok kid, just next time come find me or leave a note, ok?” “Ok.” you say back, agreeing with him. He holds his hand out towards you and you stare at him blankly, not knowing what he’s doing. “It’s called a handshake, kid.” he reaches out slightly farther and nods at you to do the same. You extend your arm to meet his and he gently grabs your hand and shakes it up and down before letting go. “I washed all of our clothes by the way, Carol and the others taught me how. I thought it might be of some help.” “Thanks, kid, you would have never caught me doin’ that.” he smiles at you and moves over to sit next to you on your cot. You suddenly lean over to hug him and he puts his hand on your head. “If anyone catches you huggin’ me your dead by the end of the week.” you can practically hear the smirk on his face. “Got it.” and now your smirking too.

-----

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Commissions: Open

I regret nothing

Pope Sweet Jesus- It's Daryl Dixon naked Lord Have Mercy and every woman who loves Daryl Dixon- MY PRAYER HAVE BEEN ANSWERED!!!! I found this pic on Facebook. Poor Daryl 😪

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Daryl Dixon x F!Reader Smut: Teasing will get you Somewhere

Gif found on Pinterest unknown credit

Warnings/Mentions: Blue balls, Dark/Rough!Daryl, sexual teasing (Daryl receiving) rough sex, spitting, choking, manhandling, biting, blood blisters, spanking, bruising, it might smell like dubcon but it's not

Summary: Reader wants to see Daryl at his breaking point, teasing and depriving him of release until he gets there. 

Notes: I loved writing this so much. While trying to think of a plot for dark!Daryl I remembered this idea/prompt someone had like 5 years ago where the reader teases a guy until he cracks and just goes crazy. I think it was a fanfiction, but I looked through my bookmarks and ao3 history and couldn't find anything like this so if you know what I'm talking about please let me know!!

All you wanted from the start was to see Daryl snap. He was such an aggressive loudmouthed man, but not in the way you wanted him to be. 

He'd started flirting with you to appease Merle, the man who'd instantly noticed how you swooned around Daryl. The younger Dixon didn't believe him, of course, but he approached you to avoid the harsh blows of Merle calling him a ‘belly-up pussy’ along with more distasteful slurs. 

His way of “flirting” was a lot like Merles at first. Offensive, inappropriate, you know the rest. You'd been patient enough to politely explain that you weren't like the type of women that would fuck Merle after he called them a 'sweet piece of Georgian ass', and he took the hint. 

Daryl was shockingly sweet after that. He was less verbal after learning vulgar compliments weren't the way to go, but it turned out alright for you in the end. He began looking after you like you were his full responsibility. Making sure you were fed first, bringing home clothes specifically for you, along with any other treats he thought you might like. 

It was great, aside from him never making a move on you. He gawked like you were an alien when you started dressing for his gaze, Bobby Brooks shorts, pretty tank tops, even shaving your legs once in a while. But he never made a move. 

That simply wouldn't do. 

It was late one night and you'd slipped into his tent. 

“The hell you doin'?” He cursed, wiping the sleep from his eyes as you zipped up the flap behind you. 

“Can't sleep, Carl won't stop coughing.” 

You'd been sharing a tent with Lori and Carl ever since you arrived with T-Dog. It wasn't a complete lie, Carl was coughing up a storm, sick with some chest cold, but that wasn't the reason for your lack of sleep.

“I got some earplugs.” He sat up and began shifting through his bags. 

“No, it's okay. Can I crash here tonight?” You asked innocently, kicking off your casual flip flops that you saved for night time piss breaks or trips to get water. 

Daryl tried hiding his surprise . The stutter in his voice gave him away. “Uh, sure, I guess. S’long as ya dun snore.”

You behaved for an impressive amount of time. Lying in silence, not moving an inch, waiting for him to loosen up before quietly shifting backwards until your back was pressed up against his chest. 

His heart felt seconds away from collapsing in on itself when he felt you. He'd popped a semi when you'd taken off that big T-shirt he'd given you, and now it was bordering on a full on erection.

You waited until you felt his body relax, which took longer than you originally estimated, and then wiggled your hips. 

The reaction was immediate. He sucked in a breath through his nose and made this choking sound. He grabbed your hips, only for a split second before yanking his hands away like he'd been burned. 

You wiggled again, pushing back until the feeling of the outline of his dick against your ass was ingrained into your memory. 

It didn't take long to wear him down, not at all. He let out a strangled groan and rocked into you, his self restraint long since thrown out the window.

And then you stopped.

He nearly gasped at the loss of friction. The feeling was so devastating that it sobered him, and his cheeks burned with embarrassment. 

“Wha-” he panted. His fingers loosened their hold on your hips and twitched against the fabric of your pajama shorts. “Why'd ya stah- stop?”

“I'm sleepy.” You said plainly, pulling the thin sheet up to your shoulders in emphasis. 

Daryl caught his breath behind you, struggling to make sense of it all through his confusion and disappointment. He grumbled something that sounded like it held an attitude, though sadly that was the extent of his protests. 

You needed more. You needed him to tear your clothes off and ravish you like the animal you knew he was. The Daryl that feverishly humped you like his life depended on it was cute, but you needed the Daryl that he was in his daily life. 

The only way you could think of was to force it out of him, even if it did torture the poor man in the process. 

You kept up the innocent teasing for a while. You took a break after Merle went missing, you knew your limits and his. You weren't a total selfish piece of shit. Only when you arrived at the farm and he began talking to you again did you resume your game of “teasing Daryl until he cracks”.

“How's it look?” You gave a cheeky smile as you turned in a circle with your hands on your hips. 

You'd put on the pair of green cargo shorts he'd found you. They weren't very practical, holding only four pockets, which was less than normal cargo shorts, but they were scandalous. The fabric hugged your ass tight enough to look damn near pornographic. 

“Didn't realize they were that tiny. Christ.” Daryl muttered with pink cheeks. “Jus’ give ‘em ta Beth. 

“Oh god. Can you imagine her face? That girl is still wearing pants in late summer. Her daddy would kill me.” You snorted and turned back to face him. “I'm keeping these bad boys. The fabric is soft. Wanna feel?” 

“Already felt em when I took em.” Despite his words, he set down his knife to free up his hands. 

“Give me your hand.” 

The poor boy was so eager to feel you that he practically threw his hands in yours. When you placed his palms on the sides of your shorts he seemed to snap to life, dropping the nonchalant attitude to rub his thumbs over the fabric covering your hips and thighs. 

You tried to keep the smug smirk off your face, and failed miserably. He was turning himself on just by touching the clothing that covered your pelvis. 

Suddenly, you pulled away, feeling your heart lurch in your chest at the way his face dropped.

“Thanks again. I've been needing new shorts.” 

“Yeah. Uh-huh. S'nothin.”

It went on like that for a while. 

One night you climbed into his tent again with the ruse of being cold, and he didn't mention the fact it was a warm seventy degrees that night. You were wearing nothing but an oversized T-shirt and panties, and made sure to make Daryl aware of this when you slid your knee over his thigh. 

Nothing happened that night either, nothing other than pretending to sleep while he palmed himself through his jeans. 

Another time you put on those green cargo shorts and offered to tidy up his camp, an offer he was quick to accept just so he could watch you needlessly bend over to grab random objects to place somewhere else. 

Once you even made out with him. Late at night in his tent, things got hot and heavy and you straddled him, wearing the same oversized T-shirt and panties, washed since then, of course. 

He was nervous at first, you could tell by the way his hands trembled on their way up your sides. You kissed him slow and sweet, nothing too extreme, not until he pushed his hot tongue against your lips. 

You let him in and groaned at the enthusiasm he showed. He kissed you like you were still teenagers, up in the loft of some barn hiding away from Daddy. 

“Shit.” He panted against your lips. He moved his hands down to your waist and pulled you down hard, groaning when he got that first taste of friction he so desperately craved.

“Slow down.” You breathed. Your body betrayed your words, your hips rolling down gentle and slow, just enough to feel the outline of his aching cock through your clothing. 

“Why?” He muttered before pressing another kiss against your lips. “Wha's stoppin’ ya? I got condoms. Glenn's got the pill. S'fine.” 

You pulled up and away from his lips. He looked so pretty beneath you all desperate like that. It still wasn't what you wanted. 

“I don't know, Daryl-” Your voice choked into a whine when he moved under you, the friction momentarily rendering you speechless. 

“Can't ya feel what yer doin’ to me? Huh?” He snapped his hips again, forcing out another whine. “S’all for you. C'mon now.”

“Not here Daryl.” You tried to keep your voice level and firm. “Not in some tent where we have to be quick and quiet.” 

“Le’s go somewhere then. Anywhere ya want, don't care. Tell me. I'll take ya.” 

Truthfully, that almost made you give in. But it still wasn't the Daryl you wanted to experience. He was desperate, but not desperate enough. 

“Not tonight, Daryl. It's too late and Shane's on watch. He'll have my ass if he catches us sneaking out.” 

Daryl growled in frustration, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead. “Won't get caught.”

“Yeah, sure. Let's just wait another night.” You pressed a kiss against his cheek, innocent enough, contrasting painfully with the way you ground down against him one last time before sliding off.

Part of you started doubting your plan. Daryl was too reluctant, too full of self doubt, too terrified at the aspect of losing whatever fun thing you had going on by pushing your limits. Even though you had no problem pushing his. 

His patience amazed you. Any other man would've thrown you to the side after the first few times, or ignored your “wishes” and dove right in. He didn't know that's what you wanted. You couldn't blame him. 

How could you tell someone like Daryl “I want you to fuck me with enough desire and aggression to give a nun a heart attack”? He'd been too gentle during foreplay, too submissive, you were beginning to think he was a virgin. 

Maggie gave you a dress. You didn't know who it once belonged to, her or her sister, but it was one of the cutest things you'd ever laid eyes on. A pretty moss green that went right below your knees, laces up your stomach the same color as the dress, and thankfully, no sleeves. 

The domestic look had Daryl in shambles. You looked like a farm wife from a damn magazine, it took everything he had in him not to fuck you behind the barn like he wanted. 

He took you out that day. On a ‘food supply run’, as he called it. You weren't anyone's first pick for runs, which you understood, you were easily distracted. It was your biggest fault.

So when he asked you specifically, and you alone, you were barely able to contain your excitement. 

The first place you stopped by was an old farmers corner store to pick up enough food so you didn't come back empty handed. A few canned goods, stale snacks and three cans of soda. 

He left that in the back of the truck when the two of you stopped by a house. A very nice house, to your surprise. 

“Can't believe this place hasn't been trashed.” You commented while rummaging through the kitchen. “No more food, but there's some lighter fluid.”

“Hm.” Daryl grunted. After securing the front door he found you still in the kitchen, chewing on a mouthful of gum. 

You'd shoved about three long sticks in your mouth. “Want some?”

He eyed the gum wrapped in silver paper before taking it from your outstretched hand with a gruff thanks. 

It was hard to focus on, his heart felt like it was in his throat, it was hard to swallow, and his jaw ached from his aggressive chewing. He'd done everything you wanted, got birth control; condoms and plan B. He found this nice house that same morning, almost immediately after seeing you walk outside in that dress. He even cleaned up the master bedroom for you, dusting off the sheets and beating the pillows, opening the windows to air out the room. 

There was no way you could wave him off now.

Oh, but you found a way. It was a talent that needed to be fucking studied. 

You were digging through the dresser in the upstairs bedroom when he approached you. You ignored the sound of the door shutting and locking behind him, pretending to be very interested in the contents of the bottom drawer. 

His hands found your sides. Your skin tingled as he pulled you to your feet and pressed you against the dresser with his palm on your lower back.

He went to kissing the back of your neck. His lips were light and soft, contrasting the anxiety bubbling in his gut. 

“Hmm.” You hummed. He brushed your hair over your right shoulder and went back to kissing your neck, peppering them all the way to the point of your left shoulder. 

“Missed ya'.” He muttered, pushing his hips forward to drive home his point. 

You tried not to laugh with pity at the feeling. He was already hard? Poor thing. 

“We're supposed to be looking for food.” You chided playfully. You shifted your ass and earned a low grunt of appreciation for the friction. 

“Then why’re ya in the bedroom?” He challenged. When you didn't respond he smirked against the skin on your neck. 

His hands didn't wait for permission. He bent his knees so he could grab the bottom of your dress, gathering it in his fists and pulling it up and over your ass. He sighed at the sight, you were wearing the type of panties he'd only ever seen on a clothing rack or behind a screen. Black soft fabric, tight and with lace around the hem, hugging your curves just right. 

“Daryl, come on.” You chuckled, but made no attempt to move. “They're gonna wonder where we went.”

He laughed, the sound dry and humorless. “Don't give a shit. They'll survive.” 

“And what is it you wanna do so bad that's more important than feeding our people, huh?” You mused, placing your palms on the dresser he was pushing you harder up against. 

“Ain't my people.” He quipped and ground into you, dying to make you feel how desperate he was for you. 

You choked back a moan. “You didn't answer my question.” 

“Want ya. Right here.”

“Want me to what?” 

Daryl sighed and released his hold on your dress to grip your waist. “Wanna fuck ya nice an’ good. Make y’feel what y’been missin’.”

You groaned. Your grip on the dresser turned white-knuckled as he pushed against you again. 

“Yeah?” Your breath trembled past your open lips. “What else?”

Daryl pressed himself closer, until his mouth was right at your ear. “Wanna feel what ya’ been keepin’ from me. Taste ya'. Shove my dick in that pretty lil’ mouth n’make ya sorry.” 

His words had an obvious effect on you. Your knees trembled and your breathing was louder, more shallow. 

But he still hadn't cracked. 

The curiosity was eating you alive. You couldn't give in now, not when he was so fucking close. You turned to face him and gave a ghost of a smile, trying your best to look sympathetic.

“Maybe some other time.” 

His eyes widened and his eyebrows scrunched tightly together. His nostrils flared as his pupils darted over your face, looking frantically for the slightest sign telling him it was a joke. He looked hurt, confused, like you just slapped him in the face and called him a slur.

There it is. 

“You-” he choked out, “Y’aint serious?” 

You forced a nod. 

“Why?” The way he raised his voice sent a bolt of pleasure through your core, and you had to fight back a whimper. “Got everythin’ ya needed. Went through the trouble’a findin’ this place, ain't gotta be quiet, ain't gotta worry ‘bout walkers or someone hearin’, the hell else you want from me woman?” 

You couldn't stop yourself from whimpering. You bit your bottom lip and tried to steady your breathing, but when you stole a glance at his face and saw the expression held there your lungs shifted into overdrive. 

He looked so fed up. 

“What are you gonna do about it?” You whispered. 

Daryl sneered in contempt. “The hell can I do ‘bout it? Not gonna beg.”

You swallowed hard. You slowly shook your head, your chest rising and falling dramatically, your body still trapped between his arms, his hands on the dresser behind you. 

“Don't want you to beg.” 

You pressed a hand between his legs and he let out a strangled groan, his elbows swaying as they threatened to give out. You flexed your fingers to massage his length, and pulled away. 

His eyes shot open and just as quick his hand wrapped around your wrist, yanking you back to his bulge and nearly breaking your fingers in the process of shoving them down the waistband of his jeans. 

After unbuckling his belt he was able to cram your hand down deeper, forcing you to feel him. 

You gasped when your fingertips made contact. You didn't know a dick could get that hard. It felt just as firm as any other extremity. 

“Daryl.” You let out a long sigh as you gave a half assed attempt to pull your hand out. His grip on your wrist tightened. 

“Hmm?” The teasing tone of his hum made your clit throb. 

“We can't-” You didn't get to finish your sentence before he scoffed and picked you up. Like actually picked you up in his arms, bridal style. He threw you on the plush bed where you bounced a few times, and dove into you.

“S’enough.” He muttered. He pulled your dress up over your waist and looped his fingers through the sides of your panties. You thought he'd hesitate, take a look at the expression on your face and back off, but he didn't. He tugged them down your legs and tossed them off the bed in a random location. 

“Ain't some pussy ya’ got on a leash.” His fingers snaked between your legs, beelining for your cunt. He groaned in surprise, his eyes rolling back at the feeling. You were beyond wet at this point, his aggression had your folds like a slip n slide with lube instead of water. 

You bit back a moan. His fingers spread your folds, smearing your wetness around, his thumb pressing down against your clit. 

“Fuck!” You gasped. Your hips instinctively shifted to the side from the overwhelming sensation, but a firm grip on your waist quickly snatched you back. 

“Think y'can do whatever the hell ya’ want, and I'll jus’ sit back an’ let ya’?” He didn't give you time to answer. He pushed a finger inside you, and both of you hissed at the feeling. “Ffuck. Shit ain't like that no more, princess.” 

Any other time you would've snapped at the insult, but his finger digging around inside you had your mind blank. 

“Wha’s wrong? Huh?” He twisted his finger and you cried out. His voice was sickly sweet, something that should've pissed you off but only fueled your arousal. “Got nothin' to say?” His finger curled, a movement that held no thought behind it, though the way you gasped and arched your back had him repeating the action. 

Then he started mocking you. “Oh no, not now, it's not right, I'm not ready!” He scoffed in disgust. “Like ya’ a lot better when ya’aint speakin’.” 

Oh, god. You should be fuming. You should be spitting venom right back at him, but this is everything you'd wanted from him. It was all going according to plan. 

Maybe he knew that, or maybe he didn't. Either way he was behaving just as you'd imagined countless times, rough, mean, cruel and demanding. 

“C'mon, try a little bit.” He growled after leaning down to bite at your open neck. “Go on. Tell me it ain't the time. Tell me.”

You were nothing but a puddle under him. Your hands became too restless and reached up to grab at him, balling your fists in the back of his shirt.

Never in your life had a man treated you like this. No matter how bad you teased and gave subliminal signals. They would either indulge in your teasing, respect your wishes and back off when told to, or kiss and plead until you relented. 

Finally someone was fucking you like you had always wanted. Or, they were about to. 

The knuckle of his thumb had been digging into your clit for a good minute now, and despite how uncomfortable it could feel at times, you came quickly. 

You sucked in a sharp gasp and locked your legs around his waist, trying to pull his finger in deeper, or make his knuckle grind harder. 

Daryl groaned into your neck as you came around his finger. His hips jerked forward and bumped against his hand between your thighs, knocking his digit in deeper. You yelped, not expecting such a sharp sensation during your warm and soft climax. 

He withdrew his finger and you whined. 

“Sh-sh-sh.” You didn't think a hush could sound so condescending. “Got somethin' better. Gonna make you regret not takin’ it sooner.”

You said it before you could stop yourself. “You don't have it in you.” 

His eyes flicked up to your face as he pulled his zipper down, a look on his face that sent chills across your bare legs.

There was slight amusement, slight relief, as if someone finally gave him permission to show off and prove himself. Lips parted into a breathy smirk, tongue peeking between his teeth, and one eyebrow raised. 

Your eyes dropped to his pants when he pulled his cock free. It looked just as you imagined when you'd touched it only minutes ago, standing at full attention against his lower stomach.

You let out a sigh when you saw it reached his navel. 

Daryl leaned down until he was level with your pussy. You heard it before you felt it, the sound of him spitting, and then warm drool dropping right on your sensitive clit.

You squealed in protest, trying to raise yourself on your elbows, but he stopped you with a hand on your chest. With his free hand he smeared his spit over your already soaking folds, even going as far as to push some inside you with his finger. 

“Ew!” You gasped. 

You felt a tingle. Subtle at first, you just assumed it was the salinity of his saliva, and then more prominent. You were close to panicking until you saw the wad of white gum shoot out of his mouth, landing with a smack against the hardwood floor. 

At least you knew the source of the tingling. You swallowed your own gum, the same way you'd completely forgotten about.

The skin around your cunt buzzed when he slapped the tip of his dick on your clit, and you squirmed beneath him. He steadied you with the same hand on your chest. 

“Wait.” You inhaled deeply. He didn't wait though, he just pushed into your clenched hole, ignoring your whines.

“Ssss-shut up.” His voice trembled. He used his free hand to wrap around the base of his dick, holding it straight as he slowly pushed in further. 

“Y-you said you had condoms.” 

Daryl let out a loud groan as he sank into you. His right hand on your chest increased in pressure as more and more of his upper body weight bore down on it, forcing the air from your lungs. 

He was so thick, and it had been years for you. The burn was incredible, in such a pleasurable way that you should've felt ashamed to enjoy. You tried to moan, but nothing came out aside from a strained breath. 

“Ain't nothin' gonna make me feel rubber instead’a this.” He grunted. He rolled his hips forward and finally pulled his hand off your chest to roll the dress up and over your body. 

“F-Fuck.” His whimper was strangled in his throat. Being completely naked under someone who was fully dressed had you clenching around him, earning another whimper from said man. 

“Should feel ‘shamed, keepin' all this from me.” 

You didn't. Not one bit. 

“But I know ya'aint.” 

You furrowed your brows, momentarily stunned by his apparent mind reading abilities. He jerked his hips forward and your face fell slack, your jaw dropping and your eyelids falling shut. 

His thrusts were harsh, but far too slow for you to get anywhere. You grabbed his shirt and used it to pull him down, desperate for more stimulation. 

Daryl happily obliged. His breath was hot on your ear before he took the lobe between his lips, sucking and licking the flesh. You gasped as he bit down on it, and you could sense the smirk on his lips. 

“Daryl?” You breathed, the name breaking on your tongue with another thrust. 

“Jesus.” He groaned, thoroughly annoyed. He released your ear and pulled back to look at you, frustration evident on his face. “What?”

“Thought I was gonna regret it.”

Your words had his upper lip twitching and his eyes widening ever so slightly. 

“Yeah?” He huffed. “S'gonna be like that?”

He rose from your chest, shifting until he was sitting on his boots. His hands grabbed onto your hips and yanked you down on his dick, forcing a cry from your dry throat. It took him a few seconds to position himself, leaning back just a bit, his grip on your hips tight, and then he started fucking you in a ruthless pace. 

It wasn't what you were expecting. Your mouth dropped into a long gape and your eyes shot open as he pounded his pelvis against yours, driving his dick so deep it reached places your fingers never had. 

Each thrust had a gasp burning in your lungs, and those gasps quickly grew to embarrassing moans. Now that you were ashamed of. If you had the ability to stop it you could, but the way he was thrusting into you rendered you utterly unable to control yourself and the sounds you made. 

“Get up.” 

You weren't sure why he even spoke, because he was moving your body by himself before you could process his command. He pulled you to the side of the bed and turned you over on your stomach, bending you over and shoving his dick back inside you so fast you shrieked. 

Your feet flew up behind you, smacking against the back of his thighs. If you could've seen it you would've laughed. 

The new angle was paralyzing. His dick was no longer tilted against the spot under your stomach, the spot that had you a drooling mess seconds ago. Now it smashed against a deeper part of you, a part that had you groaning with each frustration fueled thrust. 

“Fuck.” Daryl groaned, his pace slowing to give momentary reprieve. He wasn't as young as you, and even though he was always out there doing a hundred times more labor intensive activity, he needed a second to catch his breath. 

There was still an itch yet to be scratched. While he regained his bearings you fought to think of a way to say it without actually saying ‘i want you to hurt me and fuck me till I cry’. You'd already humiliated yourself enough. 

When he began picking up the pace again, you reached for the hand beside your head and bit down on his knuckles. Not gently, either. You bit down so hard he could've ripped a tooth out with the way he yanked his hand away.

“The fuck?” His voice was barely below a shout. “Ya’ crazy bitch!” 

There was no retaliation besides a particularly forceful thrust, to your irritation. 

“You baby.” You managed to grunt out. “Barely bit you.” 

“Barley bi-” he scoffed, looking down at the hand he now had splayed across your lower back. There were deep pink imprints from your teeth over his index finger knuckle, and the skin around it turned a bright red. 

You felt his fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling your hand away from its grip on the bed sheets. Your heart hammered quicker than his thrusts when his breath tickled your skin, and then he bit you. In the same spot you bit him.

It wasn't nearly as hard as you bit him, but you still whimpered at the ache. 

“Point stands.” 

Daryl couldn't believe what he was hearing. His jaw set and he dropped your wrist. 

The smug smirk you'd been keeping to yourself fell when your hair was suddenly twisted in the fist of his right hand. With just that leverage alone he pulled your upper body up, and his left arm snaked around your torso to keep you flush against his chest. 

He yanked your head to the side. You gasped. 

“This what ya’ wanted, huh sweetheart?” He breathed against your ear and drew back until his dick nearly slipped out before slamming back in.  

“Mmm-oh god yes.” You blurted out between moans. 

“Jus' had to ask.” He managed a chuckle. 

“More.” 

He furrowed his brows, but kept up the slow and deep pace. He couldn't imagine what else he could give you. He was fucking you hard enough to bruise, he was pulling your hair, what, did you want him to start beating you? 

He dipped his head down to bite your shoulder, holding back just enough so that he wouldn't give you an actual wound. 

You have to consider that biting someone with enough force to actually break the skin takes a lot. Skin isn't like the flesh of a fruit. It's tough, and would require chewing to break through. So for him to stop right before that point meant he was biting you so hard you got blood blisters, and the pain was all you could focus on. 

Your wail of genuine pain had him pulling back like he'd been shocked. His thrusts slowed, and through ragged breaths he spoke, “Shit, m'sorry. M'so sorry.” 

“No.” You gasped. Your shoulder felt like it was on fire, and your walls cleaned around him in response. “So good. Feels so good.”

Daryl let out a huff in relief. “Ya’ weird as shit, yanno that?” 

“Mhmm.” You groaned, pressing your ass back tightly against him. “More.” 

He took a deep breath to steady himself and pushed you back down on your stomach. He had to work himself up to it, the idea intimidating. Once his thrusts were back to their former sharp pace he raised a hand in the air. 

You tilted your head to the side so your cheek was pressed against the blanket. When you saw his right hand held up, your heart leapt. You never nodded so quickly. 

Daryl ground his teeth together, glancing down at your ass, your face, and back to your ass again before smacking his hand against it. 

It was barely a love tap. 

You groaned, wiggling your hips and earning a moan from him in response to the feeling on his dick. 

He took the hint and gave another smack, harder, but still not giving that burn or satisfying ‘smack’ sound you wanted.

“Daryl, please.” You whimpered. “Hurt me. I'm not made of glass.” 

You barely got the last word out before he slapped you. Open handed, fingers spread and slightly curved to mold perfectly against your asscheek. You yelped and instinctively tried scooting up the bed, held back by his left hand on your hip. 

It clicked in his head then. No wonder people liked spanking so much. His palm tingled and he could see a faint handprint start to color your skin. And the way you reacted, that sound you made, your body trying to get away from him, it made his dick twitch. 

“Fuck!” You cried out after another hard slap. The pain fully distracted you from the ache in your shoulder, white hot pain spreading across your ass and up your spine. 

“Such a baby.” He meant it to sound patronizing, but he was still too amazed by the new turn on he'd discovered, and the words came out breathless. 

Your whimper bled into another cry as he spanked you again. 

And again. 

Again, again, until you were on the verge of tears, sobs bubbling from your wet lips as you tried to squirm away from him. 

As if you actually wanted to. Which you clearly didn't. You were practically gushing around his dick. 

He rubbed his palm over the deep red skin, barely soothing the blinding burn he'd left behind. “Goddamn.” 

“M'gonna cum.” You were literally drooling. 

He snapped his attention away from your ass and back to you. “Whaddya want, huh?” He quickened his pace once again, jolting forward to press his body against your back. You whimpered at the way he moved, his dick pushing deeper inside you. 

“More, please,” you stuttered, trying desperately to work your hand under your body, which proved to be difficult due to his weight on top of you. 

Daryl noticed and lifted your hips with his hands. He shoved your eager arm out of the way and rubbed your clit with his own fingers, fast and deep in a way he assumed you'd like. 

You moaned under him, arching your back, feeling him slip in further. It was as if he grew another inch every five minutes. Or you grew another inch deeper, and he was staying the same. Either way he was deeper, and it felt immaculate. 

The rise to your climax was slow, but powerful. You were fully prepared to gently tip over the edge and slide down in bliss. 

That was before he slapped your pussy. Then you fell down gasping. 

Daryl held onto your body like you were a wild mustang, trashing and twisting under him in ecstasy. He withdrew his hand and grabbed your hips again, resuming his brutal pace, clamping his teeth down on the back of your neck to keep your bodies anchored together. 

It took a while for you to come down from your high. When you did it was violent, the pure bliss smashed away by burning overstimulation. 

“Fu-uck!” You heaved in deep breaths. “Daryl s’too much, can't, wait!”

“Ever since that night ya’ came in my tent, blue ballin’ me like that,” he growled against your neck, “-been dreamin’ ‘bout havin ya’ like this. Fallin’ apart. Face full’a tears. Ain't stoppin now.” 

He wasn't bluffing. He didn't stop. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, ramming into your abused cunt, only slowing to shift in positions so you were on your back. 

The air felt amazing against your chest. Daryl ripped that feeling away with gnashing teeth, biting your hard nipples and alternating between sucking and pinching.

The house had to be surrounded by walkers by now. There was no way it wasn't, you were crying and moaning like you were getting paid for it. 

“Oh, god.” You wailed as another orgasm built up quicker than ever inside you. “Oh please, fuck, god!”

A jolt of pleasure shot through your core when Daryl's hands wrapped around your throat. 

Now, Daryl was no stranger to strangling someone. He'd choked plenty of people out before.

In fights.

He was unaware there was a different type of choking for pleasure. Instead of squeezing the sides of your throat with his thumb and fingers, he wrapped both hands around your neck and fucking strangled you. 

You squeezed your eyes shut so tight they ached as you came. Your orgasm had started off blinding, overwhelming every inch of your body, but Daryl's crushing grip soon muted the tail end of your climax and filled your ears with a deafening ringing. 

Daryl pulled his teeth off your nipple and panted against your ear. “Lemme cum inside ya’, sweetheart.”

You could barely process what he'd said. You forced your eyes open against the pressure induced burn, trying to find his face, only to see the side of his head. 

“Can't pull out.” He growled and released some of the pressure around your throat. Oxygen and blood flooded your head, leaving you dizzy and with black around the edges of your vision. 

“Can't, m'sorry. Oh, huh-  fuck!” His voice was strained as every muscle in his body tensed up. His hips surged forward, stuffing his dick balls deep to coat the end of your walls in his cum. “Mmm-fuck s’good. So good. Ohhh, Hah-” 

He choked on his moan. He moved his head, replacing his hands around your neck with his mouth, kissing and biting at the tender skin as he spurted ropes of hot cum inside you. 

Your body broiled under his crushing form. Your thighs relaxed from their clamped position, falling off his waist and dropping to the bed beneath you. Your lungs ached and your throat was raw, but your pussy buzzed so intently it felt like you had a vibrator pressed against it. 

“Oh, god.” The tone was full of dread and you forced yourself to focus on Daryl. 

“What?” You croaked. There was a stabbing pain in your neck from Daryl choking you out like you were a man his size. 

“Yer all fucked up.” He whined. He traced his fingers across your throat. “S’bad. Oh fuck.”

“Calm down.” You sat upright after he pulled back enough for you to do so, his dick dragging out against your trembling walls in the process and making you hiss.

“It's okay. I'll just tell em a walker got the jump on me. We've all seen them grab throats. It's fine.” You pressed a kiss to his worried lips. 

“Gonna tell em a walker did that too?” He pointed an exhausted finger at the bite mark on your shoulder, which was now in the early stages of a deep bruise, not to mention the blood blister in the shape of his teeth.

You laughed softly. “Fuck no. I'll just skip the tank tops for a week or two.”

That seemed to settle him enough and he nodded, moving to lay on his back. 

“That was amazing.” You broke the long silence. “Seriously. You're the first man to ever… you know.”

Daryl furrowed his eyebrows and looked up at you. “Huh? Y’never…?”

“No! I mean…” you sighed. “Never had a man make me come.”

Now he was at full attention, sitting upright and leaning back on his palms. “Nah, no shit.”

“I'm serious.”

He let out a light scoff, shaking his head in disbelief. “Jesus.” He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he watched you climb off the bed to grab your thrown panties. “Me too.”

You glanced over your shoulder as you stepped into them. “Really? You never…?”

He nodded, going back to biting his cheek. 

“How'd you last so fucking long?”

A cocky grin crept across his lips at the compliment behind your words. He was worried he didn't last long enough. And you just asked him how he held on so long.

“Jerked off like, ten fuckin’ times today.” 

That meant he knew he was going to fuck you today. Heat spread through your core again, despite how worn out you were. You smiled and climbed back on the bed to smother him with kisses. 

“You're so fucking hot.” You mumbled against his lips, which were moving weakly against your own. 

“Says the bitch that wouldn't fuck me.” He chuckled. 

“Just wanted you to make the decision for me. It's a lot hotter that way.” You hummed, pulling your swollen lips away from his. “It worked.” 

“Psh.” He rolled his eyes and began stuffing his soft cock back in his jeans. “Put yer clothes on. Place is probably crawlin' with walkers. Le’s get the hell outta dodge before anymore show up.”

Now that Daryl was in on your little game, you couldn't wait to play again. 

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams @my1fx @jinx-nanami

Daryl Dixion x f!Reader Nsfw: Fingers in your Mouth

Warnings/Mentions: Oral, Daryl gets you off with his boot, gagging, throat fucking, he forces your mouth open

Summary: Your attitude and snarky remarks earns you a red face and watery eyes after Daryl accepts your challenge.

Notes: I love rough Daryl I love rough Daryl

Your attitude was going to get you killed, or worse. Or better. 

Yeah, this was a lot better. 

You weren't really a ‘brat’ per se, but there were times when people were acting so dramatic and over the top that it drove you to catching an attitude. 

Like back at the farm where Shane, Lori and Rick were having their melodramatic soap opera. You called them out on it, and got a lot of shitty looks. 

Or when Daryl would get overly grumpy and start pulling away from everyone. You called him out on that too. What you didn't know was that he was looking for a reason to go off, and you calling him a cliche lone wolf that needed to get laid was the perfect reason. 

“Need to get laid, huh? S'that what you think?” He laughed in your face, throwing his hands up for emphasis. 

You mocked him, tossing your arm like you were throwing a basketball in a hoop. “Nah, I know it. I know your type. Sleezy redneck who'd fuck any bitch that would give him the honor. Shit ain't so easy out here, and that's why you're treating me like a goddamn mosquito buzzin’ all up in your face.”

He watched you, his eyes following your hands as if he expected you to pull out a gun and start waving it around. He hung his crossbow over his shoulder and folded his arms as you spoke, nodding like he was actually paying attention.

“Ya' done?”

You laughed and rolled your eyes. “Go get your dick sucked. Better yet, go fuck that redhead that lives across the street.” You referred to the Alexandrian resident, the one who had been drooling over Rick, Daryl, and Abraham the day you all arrived. 

“I got a better idea.” 

He snickered at that, and started unbuckling his belt.

You narrowed your eyes and tilted your head, your hands immediately going to rest on your hips. “What? Gonna go on a week-long hunting trip and come back even more of an asshole? Speak to the trees?”

Your eyes widened. 

“Woah, dude.” The laugh that came from your mouth was dry and anxious. You held your hands in front of you, palms out in surrender. “Wasn't serious.”

“Nah, I think you were.” He slipped the leather through the buckle, and began walking towards you. “Melissa's at home. Don't feel like walkin’ all that much for a shitty blow job from that dumb bitch.”

“So you'll walk three feet for a shitty blow job from a not dumb bitch?” You swallowed hard, glancing over your shoulder at the outer walls behind you.

Maybe you shouldn't have followed Daryl out of Alexandria to bitch at him for leaving the shower a muddy mess. 

Now he was in front of you, working on the button of his jeans. 

You didn't want to seem like some desperate whore, but fuck, it had been a real long time for you too. Last time you saw a dick was when you caught Merle pissing on the side of the prison while you were on watchtower duty. That was... what, seven months ago? You had no fucking idea. 

“C'mon then. Make me feel better.” His voice was low then, the same tone he'd use when challenging someone. Daring someone. 

You shifted your feet, watching as he didn't go any further than unzipping his jeans. 

Oh.

Your heart sped up when you came to the realization that he was fucking with you, he didn't actually expect you to suck his dick. He was trying to make you uncomfortable, get you off his back so he could go back to brooding in the woods. 

Your lips spread into a smile, and you took one last glance over your shoulder before bending your knees and kneeling in front of him. 

You grabbed onto the hem of his boxers and pulled them down, watching as his dick, semi hard, rolled out. 

Above you he grunted, obviously taken aback by your actions. He was stiff, almost paralyzed in shock as you grabbed onto his dick and gave him a few long strokes. 

You looked up at him, a shit eating grin on your lips. “Look at that.” His dick was already hard as a rock. All it took was a few lazy strokes. “Didn't think you'd be so easy.”

You wiped the grin from his face the second you got your tongue on him. He choked on his own breath, grabbing your hair as he fought to keep standing. 

Finally he reacted, his eyebrows raising and a grin of disbelief on his face. You knew what he was thinking. ‘Says you’. Says the one about to suck his dick five seconds after he jokingly told you to. 

When you started taking his dick in your mouth, he lost the fight. He pulled away and walked a few steps backwards until he bumped into a tree, and only then did he finally slump towards the ground. 

He raised a shaky hand and beckoned you forward with a curled finger. 

Your heart leapt up into your throat and you had to force yourself to walk forward calmly, and not trip over the numerous branches and twigs littering the forest floor. 

It was hard to act calm seeing Daryl slumped against the base of a tree with his cock out. And he had this look on his face, rather, his eyes. Slightly narrowed with his head tilted back, watching you through his lashes as you approached him. 

They were the sexiest bedroom eyes you'd seen in your entire life. 

You crouched in front of him between his spread knees and reached out to grab his cock again. All the confidence you had a few moments earlier was completely gone, drained from your body the second he looked at you with that darkened expression. 

His knee jerked ever so slightly when you hunched over to take him in your mouth. It was cute, the way he was so responsive to you. If you weren't so turned on (and intimidated) you'd find it endearing. 

You did your best to make him squirm and moan, sucking the tip of his dick with as much pressure as you could manage, swirling your tongue around the head, using your other hand to massage his balls, and it worked.

Confidence was slowly building back up inside you the more you heard him sigh and gasp. That was until you saw his right leg slide up, and felt the tip of his boot between your thighs. 

You gasped through your nose, your jaw quivering around him. 

“Easy, hmm?” He breathed, a hand reaching down to push your hair from his face. The boot thing was unintentional, just an accident. But now that he'd seen you react to it, it was his top priority before cumming down your throat. 

Making you squirm and moan.

You tried to clench your thighs shut, maybe slide down onto your stomach, but that was foolish. A stupid idea. He was wearing steel toed boots and he simply nudged your knees apart, the tip once again sliding against your jean covered cunt. 

The moan that vibrated around his length was filthy, you couldn't help it. You also couldn't help pushing your hips down, and the second moan that came after the feeling of pressure against your clit. 

Suddenly, his boot applied a little too much pressure. You gasped through your nose again, and without even meaning to, grazed your teeth along the head of his dick. 

He cursed, his body jerking up and his hands balling up fistfuls of your hair. 

You popped your mouth off of him, shooting him a glare. “I didn't mean to. You were being too rough.”

“Don't, don't fuckin’ do that.” He hissed, using the grip he had on your hair to give you a rough yank. His version of punishment. 

His eyebrows raised, and his thumb gathered the bit of drool you had on your bottom lip. “You never stop bitchin’, even with a dick in your mouth.”

You scoffed, and did something you shouldn't have. 

You lowered your head back down, and grazed your teeth along his shaft, pulling your lips back in a playful sneer.

He didn't like that, and he sat up straighter. 

His thumb went from your bottom lip to your mouth, shoving all the way back to your molars. He shifted it sideways and slanted, forcing your mouth to stay open, and slipped his dick back in your mouth. 

With his other hand he tightened his grip on your hair and began moving your entire head up and down his length.

You wanted to pull off of him, call him a fucking asshole and tell him to jerk himself off, but his boot was rubbing against you again and much more gently than before. 

The grip he had on your hair wasn't something you could get out of, even if you really wanted to. 

He was considerate at first, moving your head slow and not too low. Just enough to tease the back of your tongue. You'd gotten used to it, finding ways to make it more comfortable, even with his fingers prying your mouth open. 

Just as you'd worked up a routine, he snatched it away from you with a thrust of his pelvis. His tip hit the back of your throat and you gagged, your hands flying up to grab onto his hips to steady yourself. 

He allowed you a moment to breathe, and accept your fate, make any adjustments you might need to before he carried on.

“Like the sound of that.” He grunted, thrusting up and down your throat again. Spit dribbled out the sides of your mouth, bubbles bursting and tears forming in your eyes. “Lot better than your goddamn yappin'.”

You gagged again, feeling his dick slip dangerously deep down your throat. You inhaled deeply through your nose, trying to steady yourself, but his thrusts were relentless. 

“Wha’? Got nothin' to say? Not gonna bite me again? Go on, make my day.”

You weren't sure where this persona came from. It was extremely uncharacteristic of him, but truthfully, you didn't really know Daryl. And no one knew what he was like in bed. No one besides you, now. 

Maybe he was just on edge with all the drama happening in Alexandria. All the deaths and constant fighting. Maybe you were right and he did need his dick sucked, and maybe he already knew that. 

As if he thought you'd actually try to bite him again, he crammed in his index finger, sliding it beside his thumb to force your mouth open even wider. Your jaw ached, and so did your tongue, but there wasn't much you could do. You made your bed. 

The gagging got worse and more frequent the longer it went on. His grip on your hair was brutal, holding your head up in the air, hovering over his pelvis so he could fuck up into your mouth like it was his own fist, and not an actual human. The thought had your stomach flipping, and a muffled moan vibrated around his dick again. 

He groaned long and deep at the feeling. His boot snapped back to life, rubbing up and down against your jeans until your hips took over, grinding down on him to the point he didn't have to move it anymore. 

You were embarrassingly close already. It was mostly due to the fact that you were getting off on Daryl's fucking shoe, but also due to how rough and filthy he was being. 

You'd always thought he'd be the shy stoic kind of man when it came to sex, the same way he was normally. Not whatever sinful monster he was now. 

When you came, you gripped the belt loops of his pants and held on for dear life. Your orgasm was brutal, bulldozing out of your core and sending shockwaves up your torso, buzzing down to your sore clit. You groaned around his dick, grinding your hips down like an animal in heat, not even noticing the way Daryl had stopped moving completely. 

You took a moment to gasp, nearly choking on your spot, and once your shivers stopped, Daryl pulled your head back down, cramming his entire dick down your throat. 

You gagged around him, your throat spasming and clenching when you felt his cum dribble down it. You were both thankful you'd missed lunch, because that exact moment would've had the contents of your stomach on display all over his pants. 

The noises that came from his mouth made up for it. Good lord, they were beautiful. Breathy moans on the way up, and then a drawn out whine that caught in his throat, and he had to swallow hard, panting heavily before letting out that last trembling whimper. 

He drug his fingers out from between your teeth, leaving a thick drizzle of spit slapping against your chin and falling onto the crotch of his jeans. You practically yanked your head away from him, gasping for air and whimpering at the exhaustion shaking through your body. You were fucking shivering from the constant gagging, your abdomen having spasms of their own from fighting the urge to vomit bile. 

You'd never forget the sound of that. 

He looked almost guilty, looking at your poor face. Wet swollen lips, tears running down your red cheeks, your hair a complete mess and your mouth turned into an unintentional frown. 

“Shit.” He breathed, stuffing his dick back in his pants before taking a handkerchief from the pocket of his shirt to wipe your tears, and then the drool. “M'sorry, christ.”

“No, s’okay.” You slurred, your lips twitching into a lazy and satisfied grin. “Was hot. Really hot.”

“Yeah?” He raised his brows, his eyes narrowed in cautious hesitance. 

“Yeah.” You nodded, turning your head to the side as he wiped your jawline. 

He was silent as he took care of you, fixing your hair and offering you water. You could tell he still felt bad, which tugged at your heart. He'd done a complete one eighty after coming, it was sort of sweet. 

Your suggestion worked, that was for sure. 

You glanced down the end of the hall before looking at her, fighting away a smirk. You raised your hand, made a circle with your fingers and moved it towards your mouth in the unmistakable ‘blowjob’ movement. 

He didn't sulk so much the next few days. He actually had dinner with you and the others, which wasn't unusual, but the way he contributed to small talk was. He stayed in Alexandria for a week straight, not even going out to hunt. He was satisfied sticking around and helping out within the walls. 

“What'd you do?” Maggie whispered, her hand still on your wrist from pulling you aside after seeing Daryl laugh. Like, a genuine Daryl laugh. 

Her eyes widened and a laugh burst from her lips. Then her smile faded. “You're serious?”

“Yes.”

The two of you erupted into giggles, and she punched your shoulder playfully. You had to pretend that it didn't hurt. Heavy handed farmer's daughter. 

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams @my1fx @iloverocks @jinx-nanami

Daryl Dixon x f!Reader: Together Apart Ch. 6

(Hes sitting next to you in this pic :D)

Warnings/Mentions: History of abuse, neglect, strong language, mentions of character death, alcohol and drug abuse, ptsd, shared trauma, reader is cold, angst, fluff, eventual smut, slowburn, angst, SMUT Summary: You search for Daryl after Negan's lineup. You didn't understand the trauma he went through, and eventually you decide enough is enough, and you leave. Notes: The last chapter! Somewhat proofread. Filled with tensions overflowing and then some sex. I had a lot of fun writing this and want to thank @louifaith again for allowing me to write out her idea. It's also pretty long because I didn't want to break it into two chapters, it didn't really make sense that way. Longish read, but longish smut at the end if you're just here for sex and want to skip ahead.

When you found out he left on some halfcocked revenge mission, you were pissed. And then you learned nearly everyone else had gone too, you were pissed and confused. 

The rare presence of the others had become more common than the familiar presence of Daryl. He was gone more often than not now, either out with Aaron or off with Rick. Even when he was home, he was never really there. He didn't laugh at your crude insults about others anymore, he didn't want to spend all day with you out hunting in the woods. It looked like was also making an effort to smoke less, often declining your outstretched cigarette. He was the one who got you to smoke once. You used to hate it, but eventually associated the smell of tobacco with him, and you grew to love it.

You couldn't read him like a book like you once did. He'd become overly serious, distant, and uncharacteristically concerned with the well-being of others. 

You had half a mind to just leave. The only reason you hadn't left months ago was Daryl, but the way he was treating you felt like a slap in the face. It hurt. For the first time in so long you hurt. You felt utterly and completely alone, leading you to once again close yourself off from the others, spending all your time hunting or scavenging for substances in the city that could make you feel better. You scored an unopened bottle of painkillers, something you once hated, and drowned your sorrows with a stuffed nose and a foul post nasal drip. 

The savior issue never really seemed like a big deal to you when it first arose. Some asshole raiders trying to make a point, you didn't give a shit. Rick and Daryl would handle it like they always did. 

You took a deep drag from your cigarette as you watched the front gates being opened, two heavy duffle bags over each of your shoulders. You’d come to terms with it, you were leaving, and that was it. You weren't some obedient housewife that didn’t mind the absence of Daryl, you were his best friend and you couldn’t put up with the dramatic emotions anymore. You were fully prepared for the conversations that would ensue, a list of reasons you should stay, maybe some light pleading, so when you saw what came from those gates you froze. 

The muscles in your jaw throbbed as you listened to Rick's pitiful attempt at retelling you what happened, his eyes red and puffy, his hair wet and matted to his forehead. He couldn't, so he gave up, and drug his feet into the house, moving in a way that closely resembled the dead. Carl followed, and you realized Maggie was missing too. Your heart dropped. 

“What the fuck is wrong with him? What happened?” You gaped, looking from face to face, searching desperately for an answer, only to be met with the ghosts of their former selves. You spotted Aaron and realized he was almost never out without Daryl, and your confusion snapped violently to panic. Michonne was really the only one who wasn't too shocked to speak. She told you everything in great detail, her words cold and harsh as she made her anger towards your insensitive behavior well known. Each word she spoke felt like a curse, spitting at you with such venom you'd never had directed towards you before. You deserved it. 

You weren't a good person like them. The deaths of Glenn and Abraham didn't make you cry, go through all the stages of grief and have a mental crisis, in the moment she told you they just felt like problems you’d deal with later, you didn’t have the time. Not when you still had no idea where Daryl was. 

Despite not being a good person, you reacted to the news in a way that was very impressive by your standards. You didn't scream at anyone, or punch Gabriel in the face, you just threw your already packed bags in the car and set off. 

You chain-smoked an entire pack of cigarettes the first hour of searching. You never did find the saviors home, even though you didn't stop searching to sleep the first few days. You found the location of the massacre, a few shredded pieces of clothing and blood stained dirt. You were brought to furious tears at the thought of the scenario where you were in Daryl's position, and him yours. Your first assumption was that he would've already tracked you down by then, him and his one man army breaking you out and taking you far away from the entire state. Then the second, and more daunting assumption, would he even look? Would he be too busy taking care of Rick and the others, the task of rescuing you put on a back burner? 

You told yourself maybe you were just impulsive and stupid, maybe Daryl in that scenario was just being smart and careful, you were just a guns blazing idiot who didn't think far into the future. 

It felt like you'd been out there for weeks, living off a diet of cigarettes and various illegal substances. You nearly stuck a knife in the face of  a woman who was unlucky enough to walk into the same store you were in. 

“No, please, don't.” She sniveled pathetically, her hands raised to the sides of her head in surrender. “I don't have anything. Please. I can take you to my camp, we've got food and water and medicine-”

“Dude, shut up. Just thought you were a walker. Goddamn.” You sheathed your knife and stood back, the tip of your tongue held between your teeth in thought. “But I'm hungry as fuck!”

She took you back to her camp, which was extremely impressive. And just in time, too, your stomach growled noisily and you felt the small waves of hunger nausea begin. 

“Put your gun away, please.” She pleaded in a hush whisper as you stood in front of the wooden gates. 

You looked to her with furrowed eyebrows, your cheeks hollowed out as you pulled on your twentieth cigarette that day. You really needed to cut back. “No.” You muttered around the cigarette, eventually sighing and slinging your rifle over your shoulder with a dramatic eye roll. 

The sight of Rick and Maggie chatting outside with a small group of others felt like you'd been slapped in the face. They looked just as stunned as you were, pausing their conversation. You stood there for about ten solid seconds before the silence finally broke. 

Rick opened his mouth to speak but you raised your hand, stopping him. “Don't have time. Just gonna eat and leave.” 

“Daryl's here.” The sound of Maggie's harsh voice halted your route to the front of the mansion. You couldn't hide the look on your face, an intense ‘this better not be a lie’ mix of anger and disbelief. She pointed up to your previous destination with raised eyebrows and you took off. 

He almost punched you in the face when you jumped him. He was still wet from a shower, littered in various sized bandages and bruises, wearing a fresh set of clothes. He smelled like laundry detergent and cheap flowery shampoos. 

“Holy shit I thought they killed you. Holy shit. Mother fucker.” You babbled into his chest as he squeezed you so hard your back cracked. 

It felt indescribable being in his arms again. It also felt incredibly different. You'd hugged him hundreds of times but something about this particular hug stood out. It was desperate and deep, you didn’t worry about coming off as soft or being too much. Your fingers dug into the sleeves of his shirt around his biceps, your face buried into his chest, and his hands were all over you. He couldn't decide where to touch you, your arms, your face, your hair, your back, they would move from place to place as he cemented into his mind that you were really there, there in his arms, holding and petting him like you'd always done before. His mind flashed with images of him back in that cell and his throat tightened, the slightest whisper of a whimper sounding in the back of his mouth. He held you tighter and kissed the top of your head, rocking you in his arms for a few silent moments as you pulled yourself together. 

“Where the hell you been? Rick said ya left with all your shit.” His voice was tight, the way it would get when he would try not to cry, along with raising in pitch a little. 

You looked up and smiled softly, seeing him through a sheen of wet tears. “Doesn't matter.” You hummed as you stroked his cheek. “Really. It doesn’t. I've been looking for you, only reason I'm here is because some bitch thought I was robbing her and told me about this place. Couldn't keep looking if I was starving.” You buried your face back in the fabric of his shirt and sighed deeply. 

“Told ya, I ain't leavin'. I ain't dyin’ neither.” His warm words in that deep rumble resulted in your racing heart finally slowing its pace. 

“What happened? Are you okay?” You pulled back from his chest to look up at his face. He looked miserable, it broke your heart. He looked away from your gaze, unable to keep eye contact, which was something he never struggled with before when it came to you. “Daryl?”

His head immediately dropped and his forehead collided with your shoulder. Your heart banged against your ribcage and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, stroking the back of his neck and kissing the side of his head while he stifled his soft sobs.

“Let's leave. C'mon.” You parted from him, only to be pulled back by his grip on your wrist. 

“Y’jus’ got here.” Daryl furrowed his brows, his eyes wet with tears that he quickly blinked away.

“Yeah, to eat so I could keep looking for you. I've found you, so let's go.”

“Go where?” 

You gritted your teeth as his grip on you loosened. “Anywhere else, I don't care.” You said through clenched teeth, your gaze intensifying. “We're done with this shit. Not our problem anymore. Let's go. I'm not letting these people get you hurt again. Never, Daryl.”

Daryl had never been the reason you cried, at least, that's what he thought. So when you started cracking at his rejection, his heart shattered. Every bone in his body yearned for him to hold you, bring you back into his arms and make the pain stop. It hurt even more to see that you weren't just upset, you were pissed, disgusted at the fact that you were showing such weakness in front of the same person who made you cry. 

“I gotta. ‘Jus need to do this.” He attempted to comfort you after your rage at your perceived betrayal faded into tears of defeat. “M’doin’ it for us. Ya gotta trust me on this.” 

There was a small glimmer of hope then, and you allowed yourself to feel it. You were desperate to believe him, and desperate to believe everything would turn out alright. Rick and everyone else would deal with Negan, you'd scratch that burning itch for revenge, and everything would be okay. 

Rick did deal with it, that much came true. At the cost of his son's life, he defeated the saviors.

You were more than willing to fight. You’d been dying for a purpose, and being a soldier in the war against Negan was exactly what you needed. You looked like a cheesy action movie protagonist with two long arm guns on your back and two pistols in each hand. You used more ammo that day than you had in your entire life. God. You wished Merle had been there to see you and Daryl. 

You didn't get the revenge you so desperately craved. You absolutely lost it when Negan was defeated. After Daryl decided against killing Dwight, you lunged at the man like a rabid fox, fully prepared to end his life with just your teeth and hands, only to end up clawing and wriggling in Daryl's grasp. You could've gotten over that eventually, it would take a really long time, sure, Dwight was a brainwashed cult member and did what he did because he was told to. And he'd get his, even if you had to restrain yourself. Fine. It’s fine.

But Rick sparing Negan? 

No. Your reaction to that earned you the reputation of the group's feral animal. You shared the same reaction as Maggie, but unlike her giving up after a while of being held back, you ended up earning a matching set of rope bracelets and anklets.

“You'll have to kill me.” Your throat burned as Daryl tossed you in the back of a blue Toyota camry. He nearly had to force Dwight into the passenger seat at gunpoint, the terror in the backseat scaring him more than the thought of death. 

Your spit was red and thick as it smacked onto Dwight's battered face, blending with the blood that made him unrecognizable. He was barely able to get to his feet after Daryl's threat of death if he was to return, blindly picking up the car keys in the mess of blood spattered leaves. 

The relationship between you and Maggie quickly became a deep friendship as you plotted to kill Negan. Neither of you were allowed to see him in his cell without someone to stand guard, but Maggie even moreso. With enough time you were able to get down there alone, gun in hand, only to be stopped by Michonne, who had apparently come for the same reason. 

“I haven't seen you much before. What's your name.” Negan's eyes followed you as you paced back and forth in front of his cell, seething from the fact that Michonne wouldn't let you kill him yet. She had her own unknown motives, which didn't really matter to you, but all this talking was driving you insane. 

“You don't need to know my name.” You muttered, cutting your eyes at the man. “You look so much smaller than I remembered you looking in that field.”

He winced at your words, placing a hand over his heart in mock offense. “Oh, sweetheart. That hurts. Actually, I've been told I'm pretty impressive.”

He watched you as you continued pacing, your hands sweaty and your eyes wild with rage, confusion, and confliction. A smirk spread on his face. “Look at you. Like a lion in a cage. Well, I’m the one in the cage, but. Coulda used a psycho bitch like you. If you were on my side that day, phew!”

You pulled your gun from your waistband and pulled the trigger. Negan raised hands and jumped. Your heart dropped when you were met with an empty click. You inhaled sharply through your nose and pulled out the clip, which was completely empty. 

Daryl. He dragged you out of the basement, thankful he’d unloaded your guns the night before. He wasn’t stupid, he knew what you were planning. He didn't care that you were pissed, Rick wanted Negan alive, so that's what he was going to stay, even if he did want the prick dead.

It didn't take long for you to pick up on Daryl's trauma. He was good at hiding it from others, nothing much had changed aside from him being quieter. But once your selfish rage had settled you noticed small differences. He slept closer to you at night, no longer on the other side of the mattress, and his nightmares became more violent. He'd thrash in his sleep, tossing and turning and sweating, you found yourself waking him up more times than you could count. Each time he'd get real quiet, maybe from shame, and walk outside to smoke a cigarette. You'd follow him each time and sit quietly on the porch steps, not caring that he didn't offer you a hit. He looked like he needed all he could get. 

You saw him crying with Carol once. His head dipped down and his forehead pressed against her shoulder. If it had been long ago you would've felt hot at the sight, assuming he obviously must've felt closer to her since he hadn't cried like that with you since his capture, but you weren't as shallow and selfish as you once were. Your heart ached for him, wishing he would open up and tell you what happened, you could comfort him too, you wished you could tell him that. 

“Wanna go hunting?” You asked one day, picking up your new hunting rifle, a Savage model 99 that you'd replaced your broken bow with. Daryl shrugged from his spot on the chair beside your bedroom table, not looking up from his work. He was almost always making new bolts in his free time then. He had a pile of twenty-two sitting next to him. 

“Come on, I'm craving venison.” 

He inhaled deeply, his shoulders sagging. 

“Seriously, we haven't hung out in forever man.”

“Hang out?” He said it like you asked him for a ‘playdate’. “What're ya, twelve?”

“No, I'm an adult who misses you, jackass.” You muttered, kicking one of his boots across the floor closer to him. “You've made two hundred arrows in the past week man. I think you can take a break. Yeah, don't look at me like that. I've counted.”

It was when you were alone in the woods that he broke down. You hadn't even asked, he just told you after you took down a buck. He didn't cry at first, he gave a vague retelling, it was only when he felt your arms wrap around his shoulders from behind that he cried. His head hung low as his chest shook with quiet sobs, his hands laying idle and nervous in his lap, his eyes looking down at the stump he sat on. You rested your head in the crook of his neck and held him for a while, your fingers occasionally giving his biceps a reassuring squeeze if his breathing grew too ragged. 

“I'll kill him. I promise. I'll find a way.”

When you were fifteen you skipped school for the first time. Your freshman year, Daryl's too. It was one of the only times you hung out that wasn't just the right time, right place. He was the one who talked you into it, since the two of you shared a history class. He brought cigarettes and a wild assortment of drugs, no doubt nabbed from Merle. 

“We should do this more.” Daryl had said as you walked the power line trails in the woods behind the school. He shrugged when you looked at him, his gaze falling to the grass in front of him. “Hang out, I mean.” 

“Yeah, we should.” You flashed a rare smile, earning one from him as well, the purple skin around his eye wrinkling. 

You never did. You were too busy with school work and getting beat on by your withdrawing mother. Daryl wasn't really busy, in fact, he was alone most of his teenage years. Always alone out in the woods. Sometimes he'd miss school for a week, living in his father's tent deep in the forest, spending his time learning to live on his own. His father never noticed, not until the school called and he got one of the worst beatings he'd ever gotten. You saw him at school a few days after that, one of his last days before he dropped out. 

He looked awful. Busted lips, bruises all over his arms, light purple handprints on his neck, and deep purple blotches around his eyes and jaw. The school called the police, but nothing ever happened. Daryl told them it was from a fight with some kid, and they happily accepted that answer, eager to miss out on the paperwork. 

“We should just leave.” You said after he pulled the cigarette back away from your lips to take a drag of his own. 

“I would.” He muttered as he held the smoke in his lungs, watching the kids in the far off soccer field chasing the ball. His legs dangled off the edge of the school roof, occasionally swinging a bit. 

“I would too.” You wouldn't. Not until you got your brother back. You looked at him, feeling an unfamiliar twist in your heart when you saw the way he flinched under your sudden gaze. “I'd kill him if I could.” 

You truly meant it. Even though Daryl was barely an acquaintance at that point, you would have killed his father if you got the chance. Daryl didn't mean much to you to be brutally honest, you didn't care to form a deep friendship with anyone, but you shared the bond of trauma from parental abuse and that was deeper than any normal friendship. He could leave, never see you again, and you wouldn't be upset, but if you ever had to witness his father touch him it would shatter your soul. 

You promised yourself you'd kill anyone who ever hurt him after that. You almost murdered Andrea when you found out she shot him. You risked being eaten alive by walkers just to make sure the Governor was really dead. You beat Dwight until Daryl dragged you off, if he hadn't done that you would've killed him. 

Things got a lot worse after the day of your failed assassination attempt. Daryl was never home anymore, either at Hilltop or Ezekiel's kingdom. You had reached the point of considering leaving again. The emotional rollercoaster you were going through was taking a heavy toll on your already fucked mental health.

He could see the effect his absence had on you, and it made him feel like shit. There wasn’t much he could do, he had so many responsibilities and he would never ask you to come with him and Rick every time they packed up and went on long trips every five seconds. It felt selfish to him, he didn’t know that you’d be more than happy to accompany him. 

His hands on your tense shoulders as you sat on the edge of your bed did wonders to loosen you up. You set your gun down beside you and looked up to him, forcing a smile. 

“C'mon sweetheart. Wanna show you somethin’.”

He took you on a long walk in the woods to a secluded pond that once belonged to a fisherman, obvious by the raggedy dock and small wooden shack filled with all sorts of fishing tools. There was still homemade canned fish in his cupboards. 

“Gonna stay here for a few days. Jus’ you an’ me.” 

You watched him over your can of trout, chewing slowly. “Really?”

Daryl shrugged and stabbed his fork into his own can. “Yeah. Ya need it.” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “We need it.”

Your heart swelled with warm joy, a smile spread on your face and you tried your best to contain the satisfaction his gift had given you. You missed your best friend more than anyone you’d ever missed before after your baby brother. You’d come to terms with the more than likely possibility that he was dead, and so were your parents. It took a long time and many different weeks spent searching when you were back in Georgia. 

You had a fantastic time with him. You fished all morning, talked all afternoon, and ate your fill of fresh and canned fish. It wasn't long before you set up your bedrolls in the middle of the shack and blew out your candles. It felt amazing to sleep next to him again, you couldn't properly put into words how much you missed him. The feeling of his large warm body next to yours as you fell asleep had you thinking that it was all worth it. He was making an effort to spend time with you again, and with that effort came the sparks of hope, hope that you were getting your best friend back.

You woke up the first night spent with him in the fishing shack to see moonlight seeping through the holes in the tin roof. You rubbed your blurry eyes and sat up, propping yourself up with an elbow on the floor. 

“Daryl?” You murmured sleepily as your eyes came to focus in the dim light. His bedroll was still beside yours, albeit empty. You waited a few minutes before walking outside, assuming he just had to go piss or something. 

Ten minutes passed before you walked back into the shack, now carrying a small candle to light the room, cursing when the wax dripped down your knuckles. The amber glow illuminated his bedroll, bringing attention to a small white square. You leaned down and picked up the piece of paper, squinting in effort to read his handwriting. 

The pain in your chest was deep and dark. Growing up you had grown used to being disappointed by your parents and people around you. It never surprised you. Even now you didn’t expect much from people, but Daryl was that exception. So when you read his little apology, claiming Rick called on him through his walkie to request his help in the Kingdom, you decided you’d had enough.

He had been in the Kingdom for about two weeks until you heard from Rick that they were back.

“We're leaving.” You seethed the moment you stepped into your new shared bedroom with Daryl. It was upstairs in one of the apartments in Alexandria, no longer the basement in Rick's house. You had a nice king sized bed, lots of dressers and shelves, a big ass tv, and even a gaming console that once belonged to Carl. Daryl had only slept in that bed three times since you moved in months ago.

He sighed your name and stood from his seat at the table, setting down the disassembled gun he'd been cleaning. “No we ain't. Cut that shit out.” 

“I can't be here anymore. I can't. I can't.” You began hyperventilating as you ripped the dresser drawer fully out, falling to your knees and quickly grabbing the clothes that spilled out. 

“Stop.” When you didn't comply he made you stop, grabbing your wrists and forcing you to look at him. He spoke in that serious tone that felt like a stab to the chest, his eyes burning holes into yours. “I'm not leavin'.” 

You froze at his words. Your mouth opened and your lips trembled, your breath catching in your throat. The words never came to you. You just stared at him with wide eyes and a horrified look of disbelief.

Daryl didn't speak either. He stood his ground, maintaining a firm gaze, his grip on your wrists slowly loosening. 

It hurt. And that made you angry. 

“Who even are you anymore?” You hissed, tearing your hands away from him and shooting up on your feet. “I never see you anymore, you're cold, distant.” He got to his feet, accepting each blow of your words with this calm face that turned your anger into lividness. 

“You promised me you'd never leave me. You promised you'd always be the one thing Daryl, the one thing that wouldn't change, wouldn't leave, wouldn't hurt me, I kept my promise!” Your finger hammered against your own chest in reference. “You say you're never leaving but you already left! I can see it in your eyes, don't look at me like you have no idea what I'm talking about.” Your face burned. “I can see it. The pity, the disdain. The only reason you haven't just kicked me out is cause you feel like you're obligated to me now, or maybe you're scared I'm some loose canon and I'll burn this fucking house down-”

Daryl had heard enough, he lurched forward until he was inches away from you, his nostrils flared due to his increasingly heavy breathing. “You're fuckin’ delusional!” He spat. “You don't think this is hard on me too? Don't think I'd rather be out there livin’ in some cabin with you? That shit ain't happenin’, these people are family. I ain't leavin' ‘em neither. Shit don't mean I don't care ‘bout ya anymore. We ain't in Atlanta, ‘ts not like that anymore. Ain't just me you ‘n Merle.”

“We should've just left. We should've just left.” You repeated in a breathy whisper, your glazed over eyes locked on his chest. 

“Yeah? Well, we didn't, now we can't. Now I won't.” The purposeful enunciation of the last word was the straw that broke the camel's back, and he immediately regretted it as soon as your eyes squeezed shut. “G’damnit.” 

“Fine.” Your breath was shaky, and you resumed packing. 

He found it impossible to stop you, impossible to move. In reality all it would take from him was a simple request for you to stay, but he couldn't even manage that. It felt like watching a fire you started get out of control, he knew he still had the power to stop it, but he was too stunned to move. 

You zipped up the same second duffle bag you'd packed with the same intention on leaving, just as you'd done before. This time though, it wasn't the same. It felt too final. You knew it would be the last time. Daryl did too, and he still didn’t stop you.

You’d set up camp deep in the woods down a dirt road that led to a pond. You slept in your car with your campfire a few feet away, a pot of wild carrots and rabbit simmering over the coals. It smelt amazing due to your stolen beef bouillon cubes, but you didn’t really have the motivation to eat. You flicked away the first cigarette of your last pack and stared into the red hot coals, watching them ebb and glow until the flash of something large and dark caught your eye. 

You stared in disbelief as you watched his figure move through the thick trees, making his way over to your little camp beside the car you'd stolen from Alexandria. He had a heavy bag with him. 

He plopped his bag down next to your fire and sat down, helping himself to a bowl of your stew. He said nothing, not even looking up at you as he finished your supper.

“The hell are you doing here?” 

He looked up at you and sucked the grease from his fingertips, the empty bowl now discarded at his side. You had no idea how he’d managed to get his fingers coated in rabbit fat, it was fucking soup and he used a spoon. “Ts’it look like?”

You couldn't move, your feet glued to the debris of the forest floor. Your mind spun with questions. If he was actually willing to leave with you, leave all those people behind, why had he shut you out? Why had he changed? What changed? 

“I don't want you here. It's an obvious act of charity.” You finally spoke, watching as he lit a wrinkled cigarette. “You told me yourself-”

“Will ya shut up?” He squinted up at you through the burn of smoke. “Jus’ walked six  damn days to find ya. M’not leavin'.” 

You sat on the opposite side of the fire in silence. He scooted around to sit next to you, and held his cigarette up to your lips. You took a weak pull and sighed. After a while of not speaking, you broke the silence. 

“You're so different. Changed so much”

He nodded at your words, his head tilted down to stare at the leaves between his legs. “Had to.”

“Why?” The question burst from your lips so quickly that it surprised you. 

“You.” He took a deep pull off his cigarette and blew it out the opposite side of his mouth to avoid blowing it directly in your face. “This ain't the kind of life you deserve. Tryin’ to get that for ya. That little house ya dreamed of living in, one with a screened in porch for plants ‘n shit. Life that ya ain't spendin’ hungry, cold, scared.”

He paused for a moment, taking another long drag. “Wanted me to be better too. The kinda man to pick ya flowers, take ya on dates, all that stupid shit.” He flicked the spent cigarette into the fire and leaned back against your car door. 

If it was possible, you were feeling every emotion all at once, in such a rapid and disorienting fashion that it looped back around and made you too shocked to feel. 

He delved deeper, explaining that he felt you deserved better than who he once was, Merle’s echo, a loud and angry asshole, then turned into a cold and traumatized shell, never allowing himself to feel vulnerable with you again. When he finally broke out of it and realized exactly what he wanted, he worked on himself in a determined attempt to be the man you dreamed of marrying as a kid.He worked on your surroundings as well, making sure to eliminate any possible threat in every colony that had even the slightest chance of risking your livelihood. But more importantly, he wanted to be yours. The type of husband you described when you were thirteen years old, cleaning the blood from his swollen ear one of the nights he slept on your back porch. 

“I'm not gonna be like my mom.” You had said firmly, tossing away the bloody tissue paper. “I'm gonna get a good husband and I'm not gonna mess it all up like she did.”

“A good husband?” He questioned curiously, wincing as you dabbed his ear with rubbing alcohol. 

“Yeah, like…. He'll take me on dates, open doors for me, buy me cool stuff, uh….” You trailed off in thought. “He's gonna build me a house too. With a screen porch that I can put a hundred plants in, and he won't be allowed to smoke in it. Oh, he won't smoke, actually. Or drink, or do drugs. He'll never hit me or yell at me like my mom did to my dad, and to me. He'll be handsome too. And smart.”

You were brought to the present with a jolt as Daryl’s hand touched your knee, making you jump. You didn't notice your eyes had started watering and you quickly went to discreetly dab them dry. 

“Guess I fucked up. M’sorry. Was a real piece of shit.”

“No,” your voice broke as you stopped him, grabbing his hand on your knee and giving it a squeeze. “Complete opposite of a piece of shit. I had the wrong idea, I should be the one apologizing.”

“Tsh. Nah.” Daryl waved you off and shook his head. “Should’a told ya. Wasn't thinkin' right.” 

The two of you sat in thoughtful silence until the embers began to grow dim. The forest was thick, so even though the sun was visible as it sank lower and lower, it soon became too dark to see properly. 

“My…” you broke the silence, searching for the right word. “Aspirations have changed since then.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Several seconds of silence.

“How'so?”

“Well, I don't care if he smokes, or does drugs, or curses or can't take me out on a date. He doesn't have to build me a house, but that's still an option.” Daryl snorted, and you went on. “But he does have to own a crossbow, ride a motorcycle without a helmet even though I tell him to, and he definitely needs this,” your finger tapped on the skull tattoo on the back of his hand before sliding up his arm to stroke a line down his back, “and these tattoos. And this.” You touched the mole over his upper lip. “And he definitely has to slur all his words together because of his accent.” 

“That's all, huh?” He joked softly, watching you draw your hand away from his face. “Y’got some low standards for a husband.”

“Oh, right, I forgot. He also has to go back to his family, because that's where he belongs.” There was a quick flash of hurt on his face, his lips parting and his eyes narrowing, so you continued. “And because that's where my dream house is going to be built.” 

In all your years knowing Daryl Dixon, you'd never been sexually intimate. You'd never had sex, flirtation only being reserved for playful teasing banter, you'd never really kissed, aside from that one night at the Greene farm. You'd laid with each other multiple times, more often than not sleeping curled up together in the woods or on the floor of some house. Despite never being sexually intimate there was an unspoken mutual understanding of your relationship, you were together, but not in the traditional standard sense. Neither of you ever had interest in a relationship with anyone, that was simply out of the question. Why have a partner when your best friend is everything you need? 

He became your partner at some point, maybe that's why it caused so much anguish to the both of you when you left. But it was only that night that you solidified it. And the next morning, and in the back of the car on your way back, and on the hood of the car, and after your shower back home, and after dinner, on your bed, on the floor, a second time after that, right before bed, and again the moment you woke up. 

It started with a kiss, which just so happened to be his second ever kiss, the first being you in the back of Dale’s RV. You wouldn't have ever guessed, the way he kissed with so much passion and vigor felt akin to a man kissing the same pair of lips he'd kissed his entire life. And you would have never guessed he was a virgin. 

Each touch was as if he was handling precious glassware. He never took off any of your clothes, he'd just gently tug at your shirt until you got the hint and undressed yourself. 

At some point you moved to the back of the car, he laid you down and closed the door behind him. Your soft pants and gasps quickly led to the windows fogging over, and by the end of it there were beads of precipitation dribbling down the glass. 

He led graciously. His fingers were gentle but firm against your clit through your panties, working hard and with determination to give you the orgasm you deserved. He obeyed your requests for ‘circles, ah, softer, to the left, more’, and before long he was a master in the art of making you come. 

Daryl wanted to give you oral, but you quickly pulled him back up, shaking your head as you gasped for air. “N-no, please. You. Need you.” 

It was shocking that he didn't feel embarrassed when he came early. You'd reached down to stroke his cock, only getting in a few strokes before he pulled away with a strangled gasp, spilling his hot cum on your bare stomach. He didn't have time to feel embarrassed because only seconds later you were taking him in your desperate mouth, giving it your all to make him hard again. 

He didn't take long. After stiffening in your mouth he eased your head away, maneuvering you on your back in such an effortless way that it made you look like you weighed nothing. Due to your wetness and unimaginable arousal it didn't hurt at all when he finally pushed in after rubbing his cock all over your desperate slick flesh. 

You cried out anyway. Your jaw dropped and your eyes rolled back, clutching at his bare shoulders when you felt his pelvis fully connect with you. 

“F-fuck.” You groaned as your eyes rolled back, digging your fingers deeper into his skin.

He let out a moan then, a light and vulnerable sound. You could feel him shaking on top of you as he fought not to finish again. It broke your heart, knowing he wanted to have sex with you so badly, to please you like you had him. 

You stayed as still as humanly possible while you waited for him to move. 

Daryl’s breath slowed and he moved, finally. He fucked you slow at first, slow and deep thrusts that managed to bury his dick further and further inside you each time. With each thrust he let out either a shaky whimper or a deep grunt, and soon he was picking up the pace, fucking a moan out of you each time he drove his throbbing cock back inside. 

When his hand connected with the warm skin of your torso you whimpered, tossing your head back against the car seat. His hands stroked your sides, rough and dirty fingers scraping against your nipples and breasts. He gave one a firm squeeze, eliciting a sharp moan from you, one that he eagerly swallowed down with his hungry mouth, kissing you deeply and feverishly. He was breathing heavy through his nose, hot puffs of air sending waves of heat across your upper lip and cheeks.

A rough slam of his pelvis against yours sent the tip of his cock so deep it was almost painful, your gasp choked in your tight throat, your thighs squeezing the life out of his torso. He groaned at how responsive you were, his hot wet lips sliding down your face to start kissing your neck. 

Daryl was quiet in the sense that he didn't say much. He groaned and whimpered, sure, but he hadn’t said a word since entering you. Which was totally fine by you, but you were a sucker for dirty talk. It was one of your favorite parts of sex.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” You whined, hoping to get a response. He just grunted, a possible returned compliment, his head not moving from the crook of your neck. 

A noticeable increase in his pacing had all thoughts vanishing from your mind in a puff of smoke. You could feel the side of his jaw clenching against your neck, the skin hot and prickly with stubble, the friction eventually becoming uncomfortable. As if he could read your mind he raised his head and looked down at you, the tip of his tongue peeking between his teeth, looking like a man in deep, oh, deep, concentration. 

“Fu-uh-uck-” You babbled, your heavy eyelids shutting against the brutal force of his thrusts. You grabbed onto his biceps again and held on for dear life, giving them a squeeze each time he gave a really deep thrust. 

“That’s it.” Your heart jumped in your chest at the sound of his voice, it was gravely and sounded from the base of his throat. You felt your lower stomach do that delicious flip sensation, your clit throbbing in response to his voice. 

“Mmm’god.”

“I know. I know.” He breathed, taking a second to readjust himself between your legs before going back to his artistic thrusting. He was grinding against you then, barely pulling out, using the full weight of his hips to force himself as deep as possible while he ground into you. You couldn’t speak, could barely breathe, it was a miracle that a virgin could fuck like that. He was a savant at something he’d never done before. You came hard around his throbbing dick, your walls clenching down so hard that it ripped his orgasm straight out of his body. 

You gasped, your fingers tightening around his flexed biceps as your orgasm shook through you in violent waves. You moved your hips on your own, grinding up and against his pelvis to draw your pleasure  out for  as long as possible. 

Daryl wasn't expecting it, he just came. His jaw dropped and he held onto the nearest body part, which just so happened to be your neck. He didn’t choke you, which came as a slight dismissible disappointment, he just held onto you with his large hands as he finished. It was so sudden and unexpected that he couldn’t control the sounds he made, better for you, he let out this beautiful high moan that sent flashes of Daryl in Atlanta behind your closed eyes. His body shuttered and jerked as every single rope of his cum flooded your insides, coating your vice like walls like spilled paint. 

You didn’t give him time to recuperate. You squirmed under him, swapping your positions, and took his softening cock in your mouth. He groaned under you, grabbing you by your hair to pull you away, only to shudder when he felt his cock growing hard again. You smirked against the tip as he gently pulled you back down.

Halfway through he tugged you off of him, the two of you switching spots once again. You whined when you felt his lips connect with your puffy clit, your mind swirling as he used the flexed tip of his tongue to drift between your slick folds. 

“Oh god, daryl.” You panted and ran your fingers through your sweaty hair to push it back over your head. You were either extremely sensitive due to the two orgasms, or he was an extremely skilled pussy eater. Either way you came fast, clenching your thighs around his head to clamp his mouth tight against you. He didn’t ease up as you came, his tongue and lips pulling tricks you didn’t think possible, drawing out your orgasm longer than any time previously. 

He slid up between your legs, planting kisses from your wet mess up your stomach to your chest. He suddenly bit down on one of your nipples, gentle at first, but the moan that came from your lips had him tightening his teeth.

You were under the impression that he would ease you down from your high with light kisses and soft touches, but apparently, he had other plans. His cock plunged back into you before you had any idea what was happening, and he quickly set a fast and intense pace. His hands slipped around both of your wrists and pulled, using the leverage to both fuck you deeper and keep you firmly in place.

If you could’ve seen the state you were in, you’d be a red hot embarrassed bitch. Your mouth was hanging open, your eyes fluttering between open and closed, sounds coming from your throat that envied any moan and whine to ever come out of a woman's mouth. Your hair kept falling back in your face each time his hips slammed into yours, no matter how many times you hastily pushed it away or tucked it behind your ears. You looked at him for as long as you could, but you were too stimulated, it was too hot, he was too beautiful, you had to let them fall shut as you came again.

As cliche as it sounds, your final orgasm, for that night at least, was world shattering. You didn’t care how loud you were or what types of faces you were making. Your body was completely out of your control, your brain on pause as it struggled to deal with the flood of dopamine and oxytocin. 

Daryl wasn’t looking any better, he’d ran miles before and came out looking more put together. He huffed as he came inside you yet again, his dick twitching with each spurt of cum. He braced himself on his elbows on either side of your body, his head drooping down as he managed a few sloppy thrusts. He muttered something then, something you were too fucked up to make out through his thick and slurred accent.

When he finally drew his red and tender dick out of you his heart seemed to skip a beat. The two loads spilled out the second he withdrew, trickling down your folds and over the swollen head of his dick. That was a sight he’d remember till the day he died.  

You fought to catch your breath after he all but collapsed on top of you. It was pure bliss for a few moments, and then it was too hot and too close. Before you could say anything he lifted himself off of you, still waging his own war against his lungs. 

“Getting old there, huh?” You teased, sliding up into a sitting position after grabbing your panties. Yeah, he's old, it's not the fact you just did the same amount of exercise as swimming across the atlantic ocean.

“Shut up.” He breathed as he wiped his damp hair from his face. 

After a few moments of silence, apart from the sounds of your breathing, you dressed yourselves and began loading all your shit into your car. 

“You really walked six days? No bike, no car?” You questioned as he plopped down into the driver's seat, the flame of his lighter illuminating his face. The smell of cigarette smoke had you leaning over and he pressed the filter against your lips. 

“No bike.”

“That’s kind of stupid.”

“Huh. Rich.” He smirked around the cigarette at you before glancing over his shoulder to watch the dirt road as he reversed.

“Yeah, true.”

Your life wasn’t magically fixed after that night, and neither was Daryls, but it did get a lot easier. You zipped up your coat but your shoes were still full of snow, that kind of better. A lot of shit happened, you had your arguments, but no fights. After RIck died you ran off together looking for his body, for Daryl’s closure, living off in the woods somewhere with a dog that liked to growl at you. He was over possessive of Daryl, and so were you, so the two of you were butting heads often.

He never did build you that house, but you moved into one of the newly built homes in Alexandria. He did build you a back porch, which looked great for someone who’d never built an entire screened in porch before, even if it did look a little raggedy in some spots. He even brought home pots for you to plant ‘shit’ in, as he said. 

Daryl wasn’t home often, which didn't bother you anymore, because you were out there with him. 

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