mydearestdaryl

[mydearestdaryl]

thinking of writing a Bridgerton au series where I'd replace the characters with twd characters. idk if that makes sense or if it's been done before, but it'd be a fun project!

#twd daryl dixon #twd fanfiction #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #twd #twd au

[mydearestdaryl]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 ‧₊˚ ✧

Summary: Drabbles of Heather being walking baby fever.

Warnings: None, I think, hehe.

Pairing: Daryl x Greene! reader (they're in love, they just don't know yet).

Setting: Prison.

A/N: I try but can't find the inspiration to write Mama pt. 2, so here's this compilation of a few short drabbles of Heather in the prison era to make up for it. I tried to explore more of her bond with the entire group, not just reader, which was very fun to write and I hope you enjoy reading it as much. Thank you for reading!

Grandpa's magic.

Little Heather was growing. She was almost 2 and a half years old, which meant she was more talkative, independent, and enjoyed playing and having fun more than napping; the opposite from her infant days.

The toddler was currently tucked in for a nap in the bottom bunk of the cell she shared with Carl, Daryl reading her latest favorite story from a book you found for her: Cinderella. “An' they lived happy ever after, night-night baby,” Daryl said, before kissing Heather's head and getting up from his spot on the bed.

“No night-night!” Heather announced, kicking the sheets off her and sitting up. She yawned, evidently tired, but fully determined to resume playing bubbles with Beth as they had been ten minutes ago. “Bubbles, Daddy,” she suggested, her little legs dangling off the bed as she pointed at her shoes; a silent request for her daddy to get them on.

“No bubbles, Heather, yea gotta take a nap, ya'll get all cranky if yea don', like (Y/N),” he joked as he watched you walk by, earning a sarcastic ha-ha from you.

“No nap,” the toddler stated, jumping off the bed to get her shoes on herself. Behind him, Daryl heard a laugh, finding Hershel slowly crunching down the hallway, “Ershel help!” Heather exclaimed as she saw him too, lifting a shoe up and waving it at the grey-haired man.

The old man, laughed again, turning to hobble on his crutches into the kid's room. “How may I assist you today, young lady?”

“I need ma shoes on,” the little one said, holding it up so Hershel could take it.

“Well, I heard it's your nap time,” Hershel mentioned, sitting at the edge of the toddler's bed and slowly lying down on the bed. “I was going to take a nap myself, but I was looking for some company so we could share some cookies when we woke up.”

Curiously eyeing her daughter to see if the old man's trick worked, Daryl lightly snorted as he watched her gasp excitedly, rushing to the edge of the bed and trying to climb up, succeeding with help from Hershel.

In a scene far too endearing, the toddler crawled on top of the old man, using his chest as a pillow and holding him comfortably as she allowed her tired eyes to close now without a fight, “night Ershel,” she mumbled, her excited smile fading into a resting expression as she quickly fell asleep.

“Yea actually got cookies?” Daryl asked in a whisper, brushing a strand of hair out of his baby girl's face.

“Glenn found some Oreos on yesterday's run,” Hershel whispered back, closing his own eyes too, fixing the pillow under his head. “I might as well rest a bit too,” he mentioned. “I'll let you know when she's up.”

With a nod, a mumbled 'thank you,' and a gentle pat on the older man's shoulder, Daryl left his daughter's cell.

There was a weird feeling in his chest, but it wasn't bad. He just never thought her kid would have such an amazing grandfather figure. He was more determined now to find the deer Hershel had been talking about craving a few days ago.

So much love.

Toddling into the kitchen for dinner after story time with her dad, hand inside his, Heather beamed when she saw you, running to you as fast as her tiny legs allowed her to hug your leg. “I love you, (Y/N)!” she exclaimed.

“Aw, I love you too, munchkin,” you happily replied, picking her up and hugging her while tickling her neck with your nose, eliciting the sweetest laugh from her. Then you set her down on the floor again, and she rushed to Beth.

“She jus' learned what it means,” Daryl explained, taking a seat next to you.

“I love you means,” Daryl started, pausing as he thought of the answer. He was not sure since he had never truly experienced something like that. Maybe during his childhood, when his mom was alive. Perhaps even the way he felt for you now… it came close. Hell, maybe it was.

“'S when someone makes yea feel real happy like yer heart smiles when you're with 'em. An' they make you feel good about everythin', like things are gonna be alrigh",” he explained. “'S when you wanna kiss them face all the time, an' give em hugs,” he added, kissing his daughter's face over and over until she pushed him away playfully.

“Love you, Bef,” the tiny human said to your youngest sister.

“Love you, Heather,” Beth giggled, placing a kiss on the toddler's cheek, who received it happily and went on to her next 'victim.'

“Love you, Cawl,” she stated confidently despite the R's still being a bit tricky for her. She hugged the fellow kid, who hugged her back before tickling her. She chuckled, trying to tickle Carl back.

“Love you, Cawol,” she said to the older woman as she ran to her. Carol's face softened and responded by ruffling the girl's hair.

“Me too, little one” Carol uttered.

“Love you, Wick,” she told Rick hugging his leg, still a bit unable to pronounce his name, making the former cop exhale a laugh, “and I love the baby,” Heather added in a whisper, feeling rather grown as she was now the oldest baby in the group.

“Right back at ya, kid,” Rick said, playfully poking her tummy. Her eyes scanned the room, searching for the remaining group members.

“I love ya, Glenn,” she threw herself into the young man's awaiting arms, getting twirled in a bear hug that made her laugh out loud. When her feet touched the ground again, she immediately ran to your other sister, “I love you, Maggie,” she said while the latter placed a kiss on her forehead.

“Love you, Heather,” she replied with a big smile.

“I love you, Ershel,” Heather giggled as she reached up to be held by the old man, who happily obliged.

“Love you too, sweetheart.”

Still smiling, she ran back to Daryl, chanting as she approached him, “And I love you the mostest, Daddy!” He welcomed her into a big embrace, repeatedly kissing her cheek, tickling her neck with his beard as usual, and making the kitchen echo with her sweet, childish laugh.

Tiny human, big feelings.

“Hey, Heather, check this out!” Carl called the little girl, excited to show her his new slingshot. However, the toddler was too focused on her tea party with Bunny, her plushie, to respond or even look at him, so the boy decided to shoot the smallest rock in his pocket near her direction to get her attention.

Big mistake.

Not proficient enough with his aim, Carl shot the rock straight at Bunny's head, knocking its eye off. A gasp escaped Heather's little mouth before she screamed in terror.

All the adults gathered in the kitchen where she was with concerned expressions to see what the fuss was about, Daryl being the first to get there. The hunyer eyed Carl suspiciously for a second before he kneeled next to his daughter, wide, scared eyes scanning her in search of an injury.

“Wha's wrong, sweetheart? Yea hurt?”

You approached the scene, placing a hand on Carl's shoulder to ask if he was okay, Rick doing the same on his other side. The poor boy looked so guilty.

“Bunny, Daddy!” Heather sobbed, showing her father the one-eyed toy before holding it close to her chest as she cried in her daddy's arms. “Cawl hurt 'im!”

“I- I didn't mean to! I just wanted to show her my slingshot,” Carl confessed, his voice growing quiet at the end, dropping his head when he noticed Heather's uncharacteristically enraged glare toward him. “I'm really sorry Heather, I can fix i-” he started, kneeling to her height and trying to reach for the toy, but she yanked it away.

“NO!” She shouted, tears still streaming down her chubby cheeks as her dad lifted her up, trying to shush her. “Bad Cawl!”

Gulping down the urge to scream at the boy for making his baby girl sad—breaking cycles, as he heard you say once, Daryl simply patted his shoulder with a frown, “Go on, le's give 'er space ta calm down,” he suggested to everyone; the crowd soon dispersing, going on about their chores.

“Daddy, fix it,” Heather pleaded as her tears and hiccups subsided, nearly 10 minutes later.

“Y'know, I'm gonna need Carl's help with this,” he winked toward the boy, who had been sitting nearby with his dad, resolute on getting the toddler to forgive him. “Whaddaya think, sweetheart? Carl wants to make it better too.”

“'Kay, but be caweful,” she warned them, reaching for Rick to hold her as Carl darted to Beth's cell to borrow her sewing supplies while Daryl got the patient ready on the table. Rick blew raspberries on the girl's tummy, successfully making her laugh again and distracting her from the eye surgery performed behind them.

“All done!” Carl presented it proudly, getting Heather's attention, although she still stared at him with resentment. “He's good as new, see?” Carl added, handing the plushie to her gently. Taking it in her tiny hands, she inspected her treasured toy.

“Heather, I'm real sorry. Can Bunny, you, and I be friends again?” Carl begged, finding her gaze when she tried to avoid his eyes, making her giggle as she was doing it on purpose.

She considered with toddler wisdom. Carl did fix it after all, and Bunny was all ready to play now. Humming while tapping her finger pensively against her delicate chin longer than necessary just because, she finally agreed, “Ok, we're fwiends.”

Wriggling excitedly out of Rick's grasp, she grabbed Carl's hand and dragged him back to her tea party to play. No slingshots were allowed this time, though.

Taglist: @ledgeria16 @poisonmedixon

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon imagine #twd daryl dixon #daryl dixon #daryl dixon headcanons #daryl dixon x reader #twd #twd fanfiction #daryl dixion imagine #dad!daryl

[mydearestdaryl]

Ms. Perfect

↝a/n: this is an old idea that I had in the back of my notes app. Oops.

↝pairing: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader

↝warning: death, widow!Reader, apocalypse, mean! Daryl, swearing, not proofread

|| Disclaimer: I do not own Daryl, or any character from The Walking Dead. I only own y/n and any characters I create with my own brain. ||

↝⎙ 4.23.24

Daryl wasn't sure why he hated you so much. You were nice to everyone around you, even understanding. But the sight of you makes the blood in his veins boil.

It became a routine; you and him sniping at each other, digging up trauma neither of you really wanted to. He just got under your skin. Like now.

“Sorry, in case you haven' noticed, the world ain't all rainbows and sunshine anymore. We don't shit money to buy the newest thing. Life is different, Doll. Get used to it.” He drawled, his eyebrows scrunched together.

There he goes again.

You weren't even talking to or about him, but he had heard you. That had been enough for him to butt in, apparently.

Ever since you had stumbled your way into Daryl's group early on, Daryl had had it out for you. At the creek, he would be pointing out how your hair had to have been done recently. Your jewelry, clothes, how smooth your skin looked from the expensive moisturizers and night creams you had to use, your newly manicured nails- ignoring the dirt and blood underneath-, and the shine in your eyes. You didn't have the shine at first, but when you would hang out with Carol, you would smile, and the recent glazed look was gone.

Your eyes shone brightly like the stars in the countryside. Not that you would know. You probably never had the chance to see how bright the stars shone in the city.

You were unbothered by the people at the campsite, keeping to yourself. You didn't have to worry about anything when the world was built for your liking and convenience.

Daryl despised you and that god-awful rock on your finger that could feed him for probably 6 months to a year. He glared at the ring every chance he got—so much so that you eventually yanked it off, throwing it in the murky pond.

Even after leaving the campsite, you stayed with the group, arguing with Daryl along the way.

“I get it, you're used to having people do everything for you, but we're not always going to be with you, Princess. Sorry life now is so much different from your perfect life before.” For a quiet guy, he always had so much to say to you. All negative.

You bit your cheek, glancing from Maggie—who you were originally talking to—to the dirty man in front of you. "Yeah-I had the perfect life. I had the fiancé that I couldn't wait to marry. I had the apartment that I had the luxury to design with my mother, gushing about the difference wallpapers." You smiled at the memory. Your mother had been so happy for you. "I had the fluffy dog that had its own room. I had the dad who would always talk about playing catch with his future grandchild. I had the money where I didn't have to worry about anything in life." You didn't falter as you felt behind your eyes begin to burn. " I did, alright? I had the life that almost every little girl dreams about. But it was yanked out of my hands, like everyone else's. One day, I didn't wake up to my fiancé kissing me, or the smell of burnt toast-- cause he didn't know how to cook. I woke up to him nowhere in sight. Instead, I heard yelling outside the door, car horns honking outside of the windows. When I opened the door, I saw my neighbors with white eyes, growling and clawing at the skin of the man I was going to marry and grow old with. His screams will haunt me 'til the day I die. But you will not ever hear me feeling bad for myself. I did have the perfect life, but that doesn't matter now. So, get over -yourself-, cause I am just trying to survive just like you."

Daryl watched your eyes gloss over, your nostrils flare. You were rightfully pissed. And right. He hadn't heard you weep for your past-- ever. You had jumped right into survival mode as soon as he laid eyes on you. You had held your own too- most people called you a badass, Daryl wouldn't let himself verbally agree. With that, you turned and walked away. Maggie shuffled awkwardly, glancing from you to Daryl. She wore a disappointed frown.

Weeks. You ignored his existence for weeks, 2 weeks to be exact. Everytime he would go up to you, you would walk away. Even if you were in the middle to a conversation. The person you were talking to wouldn't mind, really. They would've known about your bitter back-and-forth. They wouldn't think anything of it.

Daryl just wishes you would give him a chance to at least try to apologize. After you had let your walls down and told him about what the end of the world was like for you, he felt bad - pathetic, even. He was so jealous about how you lived before the outbreak, he didn't care about how it had affected you. He should've.

The moonlight led him towards your house, his hands fidgeting. The streets were silent, everyone already in bed. He hadn't been able to sleep. The thought of you kept him up in a different way than before.

His knuckles hovered over your door. You had to be in bed. Was it worth it? You would probably be too tired to yell at him. He knocked.

It took a minute for the door to open. You stood, rubbing sleep from your eyes, a sleep frown on your face. At the sight in front of you, your hand dropped, your sleepy eyes immediately rolling in annoyance. "Oh my god-" You tried to close the door, but his boot caught it before it could close all the way. "Move your foot, Dixon."

"Listen." His eyes were pleading, something you weren't used to. You kept the door open when he reluctantly moved his boot. " 'm sorry."

You scoffed, Sure, you are."

" 'm serious. " He looked at the floor as he brought his hand up, turning it and showing his hand. "Not sure why I kept it." At the sight of your ring, tears bordered your eyes. Your head pressed against the side of the door as your body shook with a silent sob. Daryl didn't look at you. He let you grieve for whatever you wanted to in that moment. He let you have that moment. After your sobs died down, his calloused hand took yours, opening your hand and dropping the ring into your palm.

"You're a dick." You hiccupped.

"I know." 

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I don't give permission!]

[mydearestdaryl]

a daughter omg <3

can't imagine the pain she's going through, though. it must've be so traumatizing for her and the baby. :(

Blood Ties Chapter 29

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Slightly graphic depictions of labor and childbirth A/N: Maybe a cliffhanger. Maybe not. You'll have to read to find out! ;) Daryl is definitely ooc in this. I'm sorry, I tried to get as close as I could to how he might react. Also, the saying he uses is one we use in the south that means "how is that relevant?" You'll know it when you read it, lol.

“About 4cm now. Progressing nicely.” Hershel informed, wiping his hands on a cloth that Carol had provided. 

Rick and T-Dog were out doing yet another night run in the van. It was also low on fuel but the map showed another town close by. Fuel, gloves, and other necessities were on the list. Glenn was on watch with Daryl for backup if anything happened. It wasn’t an ideal situation but it couldn’t be helped.

Thumper was calling the shots at that point. 

Before the men had left, Daryl had confiscated all the blankets except for those that were for Lori and Carl. When Glenn began to complain, one look from the anxiety-driven archer had brought the young man very close to hiding behind Rick. While some blankets were used for your comfort, others were fashioned into a tent-like structure over the bare branches of a decently sized bush. You needed some sense of privacy. 

Carol and Lori had dug through the maternity clothes that hadn’t been lost on the road and found a button up dress. It was comfortable and made things much easier than leggings. 

After your immediate needs had been met, Daryl then perched himself just beside your shoulder and hadn’t moved since. 

“S’the number we’re aimin’ for?” He asked with frustration lacing his tone, making sure the blankets were back over you and tucked tight to keep you warm. He had been muttering to himself how he wished he had made time to read the rest of the books. Daryl was not a man that liked being in the dark on anything. It made him feel helpless, as you had learned over the last several months. 

“She needs to be at 10cm and the baby needs to be in the correct position before she can push.” The old man positioned the ear tubes of the stethoscope before pressing it against several spots on your belly. “Heart beat is strong. Everything is looking good.”

You had remained quiet until that moment. “Do I just—I don’t know—lay here?”

“Walking encourages the cervix to dilate and soften. Once you dilate a little further, the contractions will likely be stronger, whether painful or not.” The calmness that man practiced really made you want to strangle him with that stethoscope. “Make sure you don’t go alone, and—”

“She ain’t.” Daryl snapped. 

Hershel shot him an admonishing look. “As I was saying, take breaks. Sleep when you can. I’ll check you periodically. You’ll need to keep timing the contractions, son.” Daryl nodded. “Sip small amounts of water, no food. Keep me informed of any changes. And as unpleasant as it may sound, if you feel the pressure and urge as if you may need to have a bowel movement, call for me immediately.”

You, as well as Daryl, reared back, lips curling. 

“The fuck that gotta do with the price’a fish?” The archer queried, not so nicely. 

“Settle down. The pressure from the baby’s head moving into the birth canal can feel similar to that.” Shaking his head, Hershel shuffled his way out of your tiny tent. 

Finally alone, you turned onto your side and scooted your upper body toward Daryl. He stretched out his legs so you could rest on his thigh. 

“Get some rest.” His hand wiggled beneath the blanket and rubbed up and down the length of your upper arm, but moved to your belly when another contraction took over. Without prompting, he slid his warm palm around to your lower back and applied the least bit of pressure, rubbing small circles. You buried your face into his thigh to ride it out, but you had to admit the light massaging helped, if only a little. 

“You’re supposed to be—” You were panting when you rolled your head to remind him, but found the watch already lifted to eye level, his gaze shifting from it to your stomach. 

“Sleep if ya can. I got this.” His brow was furrowed in concentration, your heart swelling and warm. Any worry you had entertained of him running when things got real, just gone in an instant. He was there. He was there. 

“I’ll try.” You whispered, the pain finally an afterthought. You felt him slide his hand back to the side of your stomach before you let yourself succumb to exhaustion. 

“Sorry, Sunshine. Doc says up, so up ya get.”

You let Daryl take your dead weight and pull you up by a grip beneath your arms, making it as difficult as possible so you might get to stay in your warm little nest. You were still at 4cm. Hershel had said you had to start walking to help labor progress. 

“This isn’t fair.” You whined, rubbing your back once you were upright. The pain that accompanied each contraction had lessened but was still ever present. “Can’t you walk and I dilate?”

Daryl snorted. “Don’t think that’s how it works.” He placed a careful hand on the small of your back and kept your pace, slow as it was. 

“Okay, then how about if it gets worse, I kick you in the balls and punch you in the kidneys so you can participate properly?” You were only half joking. 

“If it gets ya through this, I guess.” The archer shrugged. You regarded him with a skeptical brow arched. 

“You’d really let me do that?”

“Hell nah, but s’the thought that counts or some shit like that, right?” He didn’t even try to dodge the smack you aimed at his shoulder. 

“You’re hilarious.” You deadpanned, even as you leaned into him while you strolled in circles around the perimeter. The moonlight caught the watch in his right hand, his finger tapping against the casing. Bless him, he was taking his role of supportive partner very seriously. You gasped when the next contraction came, stopping to bend slightly and breathe through it while Daryl secured an arm around you and flipped open the watch. 

When it was clear you weren’t falling, he slid his hand to the middle of your back and massaged the length of your spine using gentle pressure from the heel of his palm. He never said much—if anything—during the episodes themselves, but kept you informed of the timing of each one. 

“Oh, goddamnit, this one sucks.” You managed through clenched teeth. You swayed slightly when it was over, grasping blindly for the man next to you. 

“Thirteen minutes since the last’un. A minute, twelve.” He was slow and careful when turning you back toward camp. “Let’s getcha back to Hershel.” 

You shook your head. “One last loop, then we can go back.” Daryl didn’t say anything but you felt him tense. “I’m sure. They’re just getting a little more painful in the stomach, less in the back.” 

He still hesitated. “Alright. One more.”

Hershel stepped into your path before you started the second loop, allowing Daryl to fill him in on the last contraction. 

“Do one more. Rest. And then again.” The old man ordered curtly. 

Once he had vanished back toward the small fire, you mocked his words. “Rest and then again.” Daryl shook his head beside you. “I mean seriously, how much help can walking actually be?”

“Fuuuuuck!” You were digging your fingers into the blankets below you, swatting away Carol’s hand when she tried to dab your face with a piece of cloth. Daryl was sitting beside, wide-eyed and lost, the watch forgotten by his leg. Hershel was between your knees, sporting his medical gloves that had been brought back by Rick and T-Dog. 

The archer cleared his throat. “She alright?” 

“Do I look alright, Daryl?!” You hissed, making an admirable attempt at breathing the way Carol was instructing. The contraction finally ended and you fell back onto the folded blankets. “I’m sorry.” You found his worried blue eyes easily and fumbled for his hand. 

“S’okay.” He whispered, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb. 

“She’s at 6cm. We can still time the contractions but I think she may need your attention more than that watch does now.” Hershel reached for the item and placed it in his pocket once Daryl handed it over. “Keep moving but stay closer, no more perimeter walks.”

Daryl nodded, you whimpered. 

“I’ll be back soon to check again. If we’re lucky, things will move a little faster now that you’re in active labor.” Hershel left the tent while Carol fixed your dress. 

“I know it hurts, but you two will have little Thumper in your arms in just a matter of hours.” She smoothed your hair and tucked it behind your ears. “You’re doing great.”

“I don’t feel like I’m doing great.” You murmured, ducking your head almost bashfully. “I’m really sorry I snapped at you, Daryl. It just—well, it hurts and it’s hard to think.”

“Ain’t mad.” He tried for a half smile but it was weak. “Better than gettin’ kicked in the balls, I reckon.” You laughed and squeezed his hand. “Guess we oughtta getcha up again.”

“I’ll help.” Carol offered. You could see that a refusal was on the tip of Daryl’s tongue but he never voiced it. With Carol under one arm and Daryl under the other, you were pulled upright. 

Your body already felt wrung out and sore, and the epic finale hadn’t even begun. Still, you allowed Carol to pass you off to Daryl. 

“We movin’ on? Be better to find a house or somethin’.” He looped an arm around your back, following as you shuffled your way around. 

Carol shrugged, not touching you but keeping up with your small strides. “Both vehicles have fuel but Hershel isn’t sure we should move her. He thinks the baby will come soon and she needs to be kept in one place.”

You groaned, letting your head fall back in frustration. “She is right here. And if my opinion matters, I’d rather not—” The contraction came on strong, halting you suddenly with your hand fisting into the lower part of Daryl’s vest. The archer stepped around in front of you, rough but gentle hands grasping your wrists to guide your arms to his shoulders. 

“Try to breathe. Sometimes humming or even moaning helps, like an outlet.” Carol advised while rubbing your back. 

Your head fell forward against Daryl’s chest, a deep but quiet moan muffled against the firm muscle beyond his shirt. His hands had fallen to your hips, his body followed you as you swayed back and forth. The episodes were growing more intense, coming closer together and lasting longer. It wasn’t difficult to surmise that things would be growing more difficult to handle. 

“Ain’t nothin’ we can do for ‘er?” Daryl asked quietly above you, each word blowing his warm breath over the top of your head. Carol must have answered in the negative because his fingers flexed against your hips. 

The skin of your belly was pulled so tightly that you swore it would tear open, the muscles feeling as if they would pulse right out of the gaping hole your torn flesh would leave. 

“Shit.” You whimpered, your voice finding its way back during the last dregs of pain. You almost didn’t register warm hands gliding up and down your sides, a smaller hand on your back. “I don’t want to have the baby here.” You argued weakly. “It’s too open. Things will be too chaotic, too loud.”

“I know, Sunshine, but the doc says—”

“I don’t want to risk Thumper here in the open, Daryl. With—with walkers or people.” With enough strength having returned after the pain, you lifted your head, eyes pleading. “Please.”

The archer was visibly upset. He was just as vulnerable as you were at that moment, torn between what he felt was right and what Hershel said was for the best. His tongue wet his bottom lip before he pulled it in between his teeth, looking to Carol for guidance. 

“Could lay down the seats in the van. Use the back.” He suggested. Plenty’a room an’ if we need to move fast—”

“I don’t think that’s unreasonable.” Carol agreed, rubbing your back in a few soft strokes before beginning to move away. “I’ll go talk to Hershel. You two keep walking.”

You watched her go, turning your gaze up to Daryl when he shifted back to your side to urge you along. “Gotta keep movin’.” You groaned, dragging your feet with your head falling back in frustration. 

You were in the middle of a contraction, when you heard it. A snarl, a raspy growl much too close. You were already clinging to Daryl and breathing through the pain that was readying your body for Thumper’s arrival, but you’d have to let him go. He had to protect the baby. And to do that, he had to protect you. 

But he didn’t move. He was nearly vibrating, rigid beneath your hands on his shoulders. He was just as scared as you were, even more so. He knew he could take the walker but that would mean letting you go. He needed to protect you but he wanted to support you. He had told you he'd never let you fall and you knew he had meant it.

“Go.” Your hands slid from his shoulders, down his chest before they released him completely to clutch your belly.

His boots disappeared from your view of the ground but you couldn’t focus after that. The pain was growing in intensity, immobilizing you with your lips tightly pressed to withhold the cries that vibrated behind your teeth for release. You couldn’t, you just couldn’t make a sound. You’d attract more, endanger everyone. You’d endanger Thumper. Daryl. 

There were scuffles. More snarls. Tears were threatening your waterline. Pain was coursing through you like a serpent, slithering around each muscle and tendon and pulling them tight. You felt disappointment and guilt over all the agony when your mouth fell open with a guttural moan, your will to cut off the scream that begged to follow barely holding true. 

“D—Daryl.” You cried out. And he was there, hands on your face, your biceps, your belly. 

“M’here. M’here. Gotta move, though.” He swept you up with the slightest strained noise. “Gonna getcha to the van. Gonna find somewhere safe for ya.” The pain was fading. You could focus on the dark blood on his face, the dirt and grime. 

“Herd?” You whispered. 

“Ain’t your fault.” His expression emanated fear and stress. “The hatch.” Someone was with him. The small hands that opened the back of the van and spread out the blankets, those were Carol’s. She sat a pile of smaller blankets and squares of fabric toward the indents on the floor where the seats had been stowed. 

“Get as many in the truck as you can! In the cab and the bed!” Rick was calling out at the same time that Hershel climbed into the van. Daryl was careful when he placed you inside, climbing over you before pulling you further in to make room for Hershel and Carol. 

Through your haze of exhaustion, you saw Rick climb in the driver's seat and Maggie beside him. That meant that five others had to somehow fit into the truck. 

“Is everyone okay?” You asked, eyes pleading with Daryl for an honest answer. 

“Yeah, they’re all good.” He nodded, smoothing a hand over your hair. 

The van was moving, though you didn’t realize when it had started. Hershel was between your knees when another contraction came. It felt like only moments had passed since the last one. In the safety of the van, though you couldn’t be bothered to consider that, you bowed forward with a scream. Daryl gingerly worked your fingers loose from the blanket to take your hand. 

“She’s at 9cm. This baby is coming soon.” Hershel didn’t move this time, he and Carol began sorting things that you couldn’t see. Panting, you leaned to the side, knowing Daryl would be there. His arm wrapped around your shoulders and squeezed. 

“What—” He swallowed audibly. “Tell me what I need to do.” 

“Just be with her.” Carol poured some water from a bottle onto a piece of fabric and passed it across you for Daryl to take. “Wipe her face, put it behind her neck.”

The archer’s hand was trembling fiercely when you felt the blessed cool cloth touch your forehead. The moan that left you was not one of pain but utter relief. “Oh, that’s nice.” You breathed. Your skin was on fire, every cell of your being felt twisted and wrong. But that trembling cloth wiping at your face grounded you, centered you around what your body was preparing to do. 

You were so close to being a mother. 

But that didn’t stop the scream that ripped from your throat when the next contraction tore through you. You sat up, propped on your elbows with your eyes screwed shut. Tears leaked from the corners, the wailing cutting off into wretched sobs when you felt Daryl’s forehead fall against the crown of your head, his mantra of m’sorry m’sorry m’sorry shattering you into a million shards. 

You couldn’t tell him it was okay. You couldn’t remind him why you hurt. You couldn’t reassure him that he was the one you wanted and you were more than happy to do this with him. For him. You didn’t have the breath. 

“Don’t push, Y/N. Not yet.” Hershel’s tone was even but not cruel, his gloved hands on your knees. 

“It fucking burns!” You shrieked, squeezing Daryl’s hand until you were certain you felt the bones shift. The contraction let up, the fiery sensation dulling but ever present. 

“What’s happenin’?” Daryl sounded breathless. Terrified. You were still catching your breath when you looked up at him. His tan skin was white as a sheet, no color in his lips. His blue eyes were brighter than you’d ever seen them. From tears or fear, you couldn’t be sure. 

“The baby’s in the right position. Y/N, it’ll be time to push soon. It’ll be very important for you to listen to everything I say. Can you do that?” Hershel wasn’t looking at you, between moving around things Carol was handing to him and keeping a constant eye on your progress. Distantly, you wondered why it was Carol at his side and not Maggie. Maybe because you were close with Carol? For your comfort? 

“Yeah. Yeah, I can.” You turned your attention back to Daryl when his grip on your hand loosened slightly. He swayed, the pallor of his skin growing more concerning. “Daryl?”

The archer shook his head almost violently. “M’good.”

“Okay, I just—oh, fuck, already!?” You grit your teeth as your stomach tightened, a visible shift beneath the fabric of your dress. 

“Maggie, can you climb back here?” Hershel requested calmly. His eldest said nothing but maneuvered her way into the back and on your opposite side. “I fear we may lose Daryl at any moment and Y/N will need support.”

“Ain’t goin’ nowhere.” Daryl snapped but it was a weak effort. He inhaled deeply and began squeezing your hand to keep you from dislocating his fingers. 

“Here.” Carol passed him an opened bottle of water. “Drink a few sips. You’re white as a ghost.”

You were barely aware of everything happening around you, shaking almost violently to refrain from bearing down until Hershel told you to do so. It was bordering on excruciating. 

“Jesus Christ, it feels like you’re holding a flamethrower to my fucking pussy!” 

Hershel sighed while Maggie and Carol chuckled and Daryl snorted out a quiet nice, Y/N. 

“It’s just the birth canal stretching to make room for the baby.” The veterinarian explained coolly. 

“Just?” You mocked. “Just, he says while it’s my—oh Jesus fuck!” With all the presence of mind you could summon, you managed not to start screaming at Daryl for putting you in that position. You knew that beyond the pain and fear, you wanted Thumper in your arms more than anything in that fucked up world. 

“Okay, Y/N,” Hershel patted your bare knees just at the tail end of the contraction to ensure he had your attention. You had fallen back against Maggie while Daryl held the cool cloth against the back of your neck. His hand was vibrating your skull to the point that you nearly asked him to move away. “You’re ready. On the next contraction, you need to push.”

“God, your calm voice makes me want to kick you in the teeth.” You didn’t mean it—mostly. Hershel must have known that because he chuckled. You could feel the next contraction already building when the van lurched to a stop, throwing everyone in it. 

“We got a herd in front of us!” Rick called from the front. 

“Go ‘round it! Turn ‘round! Just keep ‘em off us!” Daryl yelled as the pain peaked. “Fuck!” He bellowed when your hand began to shake with how hard you squeezed his own. 

“Push!” Hershel shouted over the bumps and jerks of the van doing whatever Rick had deemed best. “Good, good!” He began to countdown from ten while you screamed.

You were being torn open. Thumper was going to rip you in half on their way out. Your throat was raw, surely bleeding from your wails. When the old man reached one, you fell back against Maggie but Daryl’s hand was there too. 

“Maggie, Daryl, hold behind her knees. Help support her legs. It’ll keep her hips open.” Both moved forward, taking you with them to sit you up a little straighter. Daryl had to release your hand to hold you and your leg. The archer hissed with the pressure against his abused palm. “Perfect. Alright, Y/N. A nice, strong push this time.”

You almost snarled. “Last one wasn’t good enough?”

“Easy, Sunshine.” You felt Daryl's lips against your temple and yearned to keep them there. 

“I’m sorry, Hershel.” Once again, the man simply smiled. Lori has told you that childbirth in the movies was often dramatized but so far, you weren’t seeing the truth in that statement. When the contraction reached a crescendo, you leaned forward while Maggie and Daryl held your legs steady. The pain was extraordinary. You almost wished you could see what was happening, but any train of thought was derailed with Hershel’s next words.

“The baby is crowning!” 

Gasping, you swallowed hard, glancing at Daryl—who had a front row seat to what was happening—and then back to Hershel. “Crowning?”

“The head will be out soon.” 

“All this and we don’t even have the head out?!” You screeched, just as your stomach rippled into a rigid mound and you were pushing again. This pain was different. Thumper was definitely ripping you apart. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! It burns!”

“S’that—” Daryl cleared his throat and swallowed, swaying on the spot. “S’that normal?”

“Perfectly normal.” Hershel glanced up at the archer, back down, and then up again. “Carol.” He needn’t say anything else. The other woman was moving to grab the back of your leg and let Daryl fall against her so he didn’t smack his head on the side of the van.

You were completely unaware, your entire focus centered on the inferno between your legs. There was no way any woman would willingly do this unmedicated. Never in your life had you wanted drugs more than you did in that moment. Thumper. Thumper, Thumper. You chanted internally, even as your vocal chords vibrated harshly with your screams. And just as you thought you would lose consciousness from the pain, it lessened. It hadn’t disappeared but comparatively, you would take that over the prior. 

“The head is out!” 

Panting, you smiled but then fell into confusion when you saw Carol beside your leg and Daryl slumped against her. “Daryl? Daryl?!” You shifted but Maggie held you still. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine.” Hershel chuckled. 

“Who knew a man that could gut a walker without batting an eye couldn’t watch his baby’s head come out?” Carol smiled but began to act, jerking her shoulder to jar the archer. “Daryl. Daryl, wake up. You don’t want to miss this.” He stirred and started to lean back. “Think you can take a look without losing it again?”

“Shuddup.” He shook his head hard, grunting. His hand was the first thing to move, sliding beneath Carol’s to take hold of your leg. Then he was looking at you. “M’sorry. That was—fuck, m’a pussy.” Maggie was moving your hand and pulling you forward as you watched your partner. 

Then your fingers were touching a soft, albeit slimy, head. 

You gasped. “Daryl.”

The man gulped, but then sat up on his knees a little. You watched the fear and apprehension melt away into awe, his jaw loosening, eyebrows rising, and eyes beginning to shine. “S’that—”

“That’s Thumper.” You were able to say before Hershel announced your miniscule break was over. He didn’t need to say a word, your body was already letting you know. Daryl’s hold felt stronger now and he was watching with an awestruck intensity that just made your heart want to explode even as you rode out the waves of agony. You were going to be a little family.

Then, out of the blue, you could feel something was different, wrong.

“Her—Hershel—Ow, fuck—” You fingers clawed at Daryl’s chest, his wet eyes going wide with concern. The contraction ended and you were gasping and swallowing convulsively, feeling nauseous regardless of your lack of food. Daryl’s eyes were darting back and forth between you and the old man. “Daryl, something—something’s wrong.” You could tell the baby had not moved an inch during the pushing, but not only that, it felt like they had actually pulled back toward your opening. 

“I know.” Hershel’s voice had lost the calm and was taking on an emergent edge. “The baby is stuck.”

Panic flashed over Daryl’s face in the form of anger. “The fuck ya mean stuck?!”

Still trying to catch your breath, sweat dripping into your eyes, you thought for certain Daryl was going to jump across your leg and attack the old man. Thankfully, he remained at your side. Trembling and breath stuttering, but he wasn’t moving. 

“Shoulder dystocia. The baby is turned in such a way that the shoulders can’t fit through the pelvis. Carol, I will need your help, please.” You were already on the edge of the next contraction when Hershel nearly barked “Y/N, don’t push.”

“What the fuck’re ya doin’?” Daryl snapped, leaning over your leg to investigate. So many emotions were battling for dominance in his expression that you couldn’t even begin to imagine how he was feeling.

“Daryl, please.” You pleaded, trying your hardest not to sob. For once, you cared nothing about being self-reliant or what the group thought of you and how much you needed Daryl. As you fought through the pain and against your body’s natural insistence to push, you just cried. Daryl kept a hand below your knee, too afraid to move unless Hershel gave the okay, but he leaned as far as he could to hold you without influencing your position.

“S’okay, Sunshine. S’gonna be okay.”

“Y/N, listen to me. I can feel the shoulder.” Now, the veterinarian’s tone was just downright frightening. “Maggie and Daryl are going to pull your legs back on the next contraction. I’m going to apply some pressure above your pubic bone. It’s not going to be pleasant, but if I’m correct, the head should come and then the baby. I need you to push with all you have, do you understand?”

You pressed your cheek further into Daryl’s chest and nodded, hiccuping through ragged, exhausted breaths. When the contraction began to tear through you, Maggie and Daryl reacted immediately, pulling your legs toward your belly while you curled inward with a guttural scream. Hershel pressed into the area just above your pubic bone, the pressure only compounding the whirlwind of pain you were already caught in. And then it was over and you let the two supporters take your weight.

The van rocked again, but was ignored. Hershel looked at Carol gravely and shook his head. 

“S’that ‘bout?” Daryl hissed, trying hard for your sake not to lose his cool.

“It didn’t work.” Before Daryl could speak, the old man continued. “We’re going to try one more time. If it doesn’t work, there are a couple of other things we can try but time is of the essence. The baby isn’t getting the oxygen they need like this.”

“Whatever ya gotta do. Just take care’a both’a ‘em.” 

Hershel nodded. “Alright, same thing, Y/N. A big, big push for me.”

You shook your head, exhausted. “I can’t.” You whispered, your eyelids heavy as hope attempted to flee and you accepted that once again, the world would take from you. It would take from Daryl. “I’m so tired.” You felt movement beneath your left leg and then Daryl’s hand was grasping your chin, firm but gentle. 

“Hey. Cut that shit out.” He wasn’t angry. He was using the same tone you’d heard him use when he had told Thumper to cut you some slack. When he had started communicating with the baby. “Ya’ve gone through hell an’ back for this an’ I ain’t lettin’ ya quit at the goddamn finish line, ya hear me?”

“I’m tired, Daryl.” Your face screwed up in pain as the next contraction began to build.

“Nu uh. Ya ain’t gonna bust into my life an’ fuck up my world six ways from Sunday, make me love ya an’ this kid, an’ then just give up. S’you an’ me an’ Thumper. S’what ya said!”

You blinked at him, slowly starting to sit up.

“I’ve seen ya be a badass before, Sunshine.” Your breaths were coming faster, the contraction nearly on top of you, but you only had eyes for Daryl. “Be a fuckin’ badass now.” His hand left your face and went back to your leg, pulling it toward you at the same time Maggie moved the right one. 

You screamed so loud that you were certain the rocks and bumps of the van were due to your wails alone. Something shifted, you felt it and it hurt. You were on fire and aching at the same time. When the contraction ended, you still felt painfully stretched and bruised and uncomfortable. “Did—did it work?” You panted, grasping desperately for Daryl’s shirt.

“The head is out, the shoulders are turned. One more big push, Y/N. Just one more.”

You breathed harshly through your nose, trying to amp yourself up. Maggie and Carol were throwing encouragement your way, but you didn’t hear them. You only felt Dary’s breath against your ear, his stubbled cheek rubbing against your skin.

He whispered, only for you to hear. “I love ya.” Kissing your temple, he moved back to his spot and when you looked at him, exhausted and crying, the corner of his mouth twitched and he nodded.

You could do this.

When the next contraction ripped through you, the world went silent. It was only you and the pain, white hot and all consuming. You were indeed being torn in half but if it meant Thumper would take that first breath, would open those little eyes to see the world—fucked up or not—then you would gladly be wrenched into pieces. 

The moment the baby slipped free of you, you felt the emptiness. You still hurt, but the worst of the pain was suddenly absent. Sound and sight came back to you in an onslaught that had you sucking in a breath like your lungs had been starved. 

“Is—Hershel, the baby?” You asked, trying to move as Daryl and Maggie lowered your legs. The archer was leaning across your knee. You couldn’t even tell if he was breathing, but his eyes were wide and darting. 

“Doc—”

The ferocious first cries of the distraught newborn echoed throughout the van. Maggie had moved behind you to keep you sitting up while Daryl had staggered backward and fallen on his ass against the interior wall, eyes on the little thing that Hershel was looking over intently. Maggie reached over your shoulder and began unbuttoning your dress, whispering in your ear as she moved.

“The baby needs to nurse, bond with you on your skin and it’ll help when you have to push out the placenta, okay?” You blinked at her, concerned. “It’s okay. It’s nothing like what you just went through. One or two small pushes and it’s out.”’ You nodded robotically, watching Hershel maneuver some sort of tape around a slimy cord.

Thumper was not happy. They were probably cold and that thought made your heart ache. Your baby should never be uncomfortable. Daryl was slowly, clumsily making his way toward you, but wasn’t taking his eyes off the baby. When he was sitting beside you, Hershel finally leaned over you and placed the squirming, slippery baby on your chest.

“Congratulations. You have a daughter.”

[mydearestdaryl]

𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐲𝐚 (18+) ‧₊˚ ✧

Summary: Daryl needed some love and you gladly gave it to him. Warnings: TWD violence, gore, blood, character deaths, explicit language, smut (oral f receiving, unprotected p in v, simple aftercare). Not proofread. Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f! reader smut + fluff. Setting: Quarry. A/N: I read a post some time ago that said that Daryl in season 1 just needed some kisses to calm down and I couldn't agree more so I wrote this. It's also my first time trying to write smut, so I am so sorry if this sucks, and I was so hesitant to post it so please be nice lol. 😞

“Ha-ha, funny girl,” T-Dog deadpanned, rolling his eyes and suppressing a laugh. It was the third bad joke you told in a row, and he was starting to find them funny.

“I really am,” you replied, finally catching your breath after cackling at your joke.

“Okay, Eddie Murphy,” T-Dog, added jokingly, making you giggle as he placed a bunch of firewood you'd been helping him split for the past 40 minutes. “Let's head back.”

“I just thought of another one!” You exclaimed as you walked next to him. His groan of annoyance made you laugh before you even told the joke. “What do you call a fish with no eyes?”

“I. Don't. Know.”

“A fsh,” you replied after a dramatic pause, hardly able to contain your laugh as he gave you a side-eye. “I-” you started but commotion from the camp reached your ears, making you both stop. You recognized Daryl's voice.

Sharing a confused look with T, you both picked up the pace, coming into view with what seemed like a heated discussion between Daryl, Shane, and Rick, the man who joined the camp yesterday.

“Rick Grimes,” he introduced himself to Daryl.

“Rick Grimes,” Daryl mocked him, “y' got somethin' yea wanna tell me?”

“Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof hooked into a piece of metal,” Rick stated. “He's still there.”

You stayed in place, watching as T-Dog slowly took a few steps closer to the scene. Daryl hummed as he turned around, pacing shortly before he spoke, clearly growing irritated, “Le' me process this.” He paused shortly as he turned to face Rick again. “Ya' sayin' you handcuffed ma brother to a roof, and you left 'im there!”

Rick gulped before admitting. “Yeah.”

Suddenly, Daryl tossed the squirrels he was carrying toward Rick, the latter swiftly dodging them before Shane jumped into action, tackling Daryl to the ground. Next, Daryl pulled a knife from its holster and swung it at the former cops.

In the blink of an eye, Shane put Daryl in a chokehold, while Rick snatched the weapon out of his hand. “Yea best let me go!” warned Daryl, struggling in Shane's grip as the cop brought him to the ground. You walked closer toward Carol as your eyes remained on the scene, but decided to walk to the other side as you noticed Ed was next to her.

“I think it's better if we don't,” Shane replied, almost mockingly.

“Chockehold's illegal,” Daryl added, face red from the struggle.

“You can file a complaint,” Shane mocked him. Rick kneeled before the restrained man as Shane spoke again, “c'mon, man, can keep this up all day.”

“I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic. You think we can manage that?” Rick spoke, trying to find Daryl's eyes. “You think we can manage that?” the cop repeated when no answer was obtained.

Panting, Daryl grunted in agreement, finally getting Shane to release him; more aggressively than he should've, in your opinion. Sitting up quickly, Daryl pointed at Shane warningly as Rick continued: “What I did was not on a whim,” he explained. “Your brother does not work and play well with others.”

“It's not Rick's fault,” T-Dog spoke up, his leg bouncing anxiously as he confessed. “I had the key... I dropped it.”

“Couldn't pick it up?” Daryl retorted. His voice was calmer, but you recognized in his stormy eyes a hint of grief. Nobody else cared about Merle when he was everything had, and you couldn't imagine how terrible this situation was for him, even when you didn't like Merle yourself.

“Well, I dropped it in a drain.”

Dropping his head, Daryl slowly got up, gathering his composure again. Anger returned to his expression as he walked past T-dog, “'f it's s'posed ta make me feel better, it don't,” glaring daggers at the 'culprit.'

“Maybe this will,” T went on to say, “I chained the door to the roof so the geeks couldn't get at him... with the padlock”

“It's gotta count for something,” Rick added, backing T-Dog up.

Drying a tear as soon as it came, Daryl took a deep breath. “Hell with all y'all!” he screamed. “Jus' tell me where he is, so's I can go get 'im.”

“He'll show you,” Lori commented, staring into her husband's eyes. “Ain't that right?” Rick's eyes left his wife's after a few seconds, finding T-Dog's shortly before nodding.

“I'm going back,” he declared, almost solemnly, hands on his hips as his eyes met Daryl's again. The younger Dixon clenched his jaw before walking past everyone to get his crossbow and stomping to his tent.

You didn't notice you went behind him until Dale stopped you by grabbing your wrist. “What are you doing, honey?” the older man questioned. He'd always been kind and sweet to you, so you gently released yourself from his grip.

“He's upset,” you explained, and he seemed to understand as he nodded reluctantly, but understandingly. On your way, you grabbed your half-full water bottle, and slowly approached the edge of the camp, where the tent of the Dixon's was.

You found Daryl sitting on the chair outside his tent, shoulders hunched forward, fists clenched with anger as if grasping the last shreds of control. His head bowed low and his eyes were shut tight. You caught the way his body shook softly with quiet sobs. You stilled, not daring to interrupt this stolen vulnerable moment.

After another minute, he abruptly stood up, drying his tears before cursing loudly while kicking the chair he was sitting in. Suddenly, you hesitated to approach him and decided to turn around and leave, but his voice reached your ears before you took one step.

“Whaddaya doin' here?”

You took a deep breath before turning back around and walking up to him, your water bottle hanging from your hand. “I- uhm, I just wanted to say I'm sorry about Merle, and-”

“Ya don' even like 'im,” he snapped defensively.

“No, I don't,” you confirmed, “but I like you, and he's your brother. Even if my brother would annoy the shit out of me before, I loved him, and... I'm sorry you're going through this, Daryl,” you took a few steps closer, eyes on his the whole time.

He carefully studied your face, searching for a lie, but finding nothing but the truth.

He frowned deeper, angrily huffing out a breath before turning away from you to rant. “He's jus' so fuckin' stupid! Nobody can fuckin' stand him an' he still can't keep 'is fuckin' mouth shut!” he yelled, pacing from left to right, hands dancing through the air practically independently, punctuating his words.

“Why he gotta be such a fuckin' idiot? Not even when we gotta surv-” mid-sentence, your hands found his cheeks, and with utter sweetness your lips impulsively found his, silencing his words.

He stilled, hands slowly dropping to his sides, body completely tense.

You quickly pulled away, opening your eyes to find his eyes slightly wide and totally confused. Your hands left his face and you took a step back, your eyes awkwardly looking anywhere but at him. “Fuck, Daryl, I'm so sorry,” you started, a knot of anxiety growing in your chest. “I don't know why I did that... well, I know why, 'cause I like you, but I shouldn't have, I'm really, so s-”

Your rambling was interrupted by his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to connect his lips with yours. This time he was more relaxed, and the kiss was slower. His hands slid down to gently grab your hips, pressing his body to yours.

Your arms snaked around his neck, dropping your water bottle in the process, and allowing your lips to part when his tongue requested entrance into your mouth. Enjoying the taste of each other, with his exploring hands getting acquainted with the curve of your hips and hips, yours tracing his strong shoulders and arms, time stilled for a moment, but you loved it. The kiss grew almost desperate and the grip on your hips got stronger.

Unhappy to pull away, but needing to do so to breathe, you found yourself gasping as his lips left yours. You smiled brightly, cheeks rosy, and he smirked while dipping his head. “Also, I brought you water,” you added, grabbing the bottle from the ground, and dusting off the little dirt that stuck to its side before handing it to him.

“Thanks,” he nodded, taking it from your hands before opening it, downing the liquid, and emptying the bottle.

“You're gonna find him,” you reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder and a quick kiss on his cheek. He smiled and nodded once again, muttering a thank you. You sounded pretty convinced, which gave him the confidence he needed when he left on the search for his brother later that day.

Everybody screamed as they tried to avoid or fight the walkers emerging from the thick, dark forest. The evening that had started so peacefully turned into the perfect scene of a terrifying horror movie without warning.

Things moved fast and slow at the same time. It was a blur.

Tunnel vision activated, solely focused on surviving and protecting your group, moving on automatic pilot as you dug your machete countless times into the head of those flesh-hungry monsters.

You didn't even notice when it ended, barely feeling the pair of strong hands gripping your shoulders and shaking you slightly; his voice sounded distant as he asked if you were okay over and over, but you couldn't answer. You weren't sure if you were okay, the adrenaline didn't let you feel your body.

He finally snapped you out of your trance with a more forceful shake of your shoulders. “What?” You asked, brows knitting in confusion.

“Yea bit? Are ya alright?” Daryl questioned, nearly manhandling you as he searched and scanned for bites or scratches on your neck, lifting the sleeves of your flannel, making sure the skin of your arms was intact.

“I didn't get bit or anything,” you shook your head, still a bit gone.

Cupping your face to study your eyes, he quickly pulled you into his arms, and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. You felt finally safe now. You wrapped your arms around his torso, closing your eyes and hiding your face in his neck.

After everyone agreed to get some rest and leave the cleaning for tomorrow, Daryl offered to stay in your tent with you that night.

He helped you into your pajamas, and you cuddled as he told you what happened in Atlanta. Then you simply lay in silence, legs tangled, your face on his chest. You played with his fingers and he watched you adoringly, rubbing soothing circles on your hip with his free hand.

You looked up and made eye contact with him. Gently he cupped your chin, leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss. Your hand went up to cup half of his face, returning the kiss with equal passion. It was almost needy but slow. It felt like he needed the confirmation that you were both here and okay.

Tongues met in a slow dance, and his hands reached down to cup your ass, easily moving you to lay on top of him. You couldn't help but moan as your body completely pressed against his, but it also made you want to feel more.

Several moments went by before his hands slid under your shirt, caressing the soft skin of your back, and you broke the kiss in need of oxygen, immediately latching your lips onto his neck, sucking and kissing.

He hummed in satisfaction, reaching a hand up to keep your face on his neck, which was all the confirmation you needed to keep going. You were in heaven, but it was cut short when he stopped suddenly, pulling his hands out of your shirt, and cupping your face again for you to look at him.

“You sure 'bout this?” he asked, his face stern as he waited for your answer.

You nodded hastily, licking your lips. “Yeah, I am. Are you sure?”

“'M sure,” he said without hesitation.

His hands found the back of your thighs and moved them so you could straddle him as he sat up. “Need ta feel ya,” he whispered in a husky voice, sending a shiver down your spine as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a passionate kiss.

His hands caressed the dip of your waist up and down under your shirt as you made out. You buckled your hips up unintentionally but did it again on purpose when you heard him groan into your mouth.

You were straight-up grinding onto his hips before he pulled away from your mouth, “patience, doll,” he whispered as he took your shirt off. His hands went to your breasts like magnets, kneading and massaging the curves shamelessly as he peppered your neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses that trailed down to pop a tit inside his mouth.

Your clothed cunt clenched on air, and you closed your eyes and sighed, enjoying the attention, and you could feel his excitement making a tent in his pants.

He slowly shifted the position, you back now on the mattress.

After he decided both tits had been given enough attention, though he would've stayed worshipping those beautiful mounds all night, his mouth trailed lower and lower, hands smoothly pulling your shorts and panties off at the same time, while his tongue and mouth kissed and licked the skin of your stomach.

His eyes met yours as he kissed your thighs, silently asking for permission to go further. “Please,” you whispered, surprising yourself by how needy you sounded, but then again, you did feel like you needed him right now.

He wasted no time, and in less than a second his mouth was latched to your clit. Tongue swirling on it and sucking, making you gasp. He used his whole face, pushing himself deeper and moving his head side to side as his tongue flicked over your sensitive pearl quickly. Hungrily. You arched your back involuntarily, fingers finding his hair to pull while simultaneously pulling him closer.

With a hand holding your hip down, he sucked a few more times before he licked a strip down to your entrance where his tongue began to fuck you. His thumb replaced his mouth on your clit, rubbing at the same speed as his tongue went in and out of you. You moaned and whimpered and cursed, trying to keep quiet, but were unsuccessful.

“Quiet, sunshine,” he whispered, his free hand reaching up to make you suck on two fingers to silence you, and you happily obliged. Your legs wrapped around his head as he continued his ministrations, the familiar knot forming in your stomach.

“Fuck, Daryl, I- wait,” your back arched further, legs pulling him closer, contradicting your plead as he moved faster and faster, going back to sucking on your clit and fuck you with his fingers. He hummed and the vibrations brought you closer. “So close.”

Your pitch was higher and higher, the knot tighter and tighter. All it took was a final, flick and suck of his tongue while feeling him moan against your cunt before pushing you over the edge into a shattering climax. The free hand covered your mouth as the other slowed down, prolonging your pleasure until your body relaxed and you came down from your high.

“Fuck,” you looked at him with hazy eyes.

“Fuck,” he said as a confirmation, looking down to see a damp spot on his sweatpants. He came just by eating you out. Fucking hot.

“Come here,” you said, pulling him into a kiss. He gladly kissed you back as you slid your hands under his shirt, trying to pull it up, but he stopped you, grabbing your wrist.

“I-” he started, looking away from your eyes and chewing on his bottom lip. “I have- I...”

“You don't have to take it off, it's okay.”

“No, I wan' ta, jus'” he sighed, slowly taking the shirt off. He was thankful his back was away from you. At least you wouldn't have to see the worst yet. “My dad... was a drunk,” he reached to touch, kind of trying to hide, one of the scars on his shoulders, but you gently pushed his hand away, tracing the scar with your fingertips before looking up at him. You smiled and kissed him shortly, before kissing the scars on his shoulders.

“You're so strong,” you whispered.

His heart was beating fast but in a good way. His lips found yours again as he settled himself between your legs. Your mouths, now familiar with one another, found a rhythm as he started to pull his sweatpants and boxers down.

His erection hit your thighs, leaving a wet trail on your skin from his previous orgasm, making you pull away from the kiss. You bit your bottom lip at the sight; he was thick, and the size was a bit on the bigger side. “All for you, baby,” he whispered, as he pumped himself a couple of times.

He rubbed the tip on your clit and entrance, spreading your and his juices all over your cunt. “Ya ready?” he asked, slapping your cunt with his dick gently. You nodded, eyes darting between where you needed him and his lust-filled eyes. “Nah, need ya to speak up.”

“Please, Dar, I'm ready. I need you.”

He hummed in satisfaction, leaning forward to prop himself up with his forearms around your head, kissing your cheek, before slowly pushing into you. You moaned and he groaned. Wet and slippery from the previous orgasm, the stretch felt like pure bliss for both of you. For a second he stilled, letting both adjust as he breathed in the scent of your neck.

He grabbed both your hands with one of his and pinned them above your head, starting to move when you wrapped your legs around his hips. “Feel so good, doll.”

He started slow, savoring the moment but also nervous to hurt you. But soon, he picked up a rhythm and started moving faster. Your boobs bounced beneath him as he kissed and worshipped your neck. You felt so deliciously full as he thrust up into your tight, dripping heat, moaning and whimpering underneath him.

He was in heaven, eyes inevitably closed as he fucked you, but he wanted to keep them open to look at you. To him, you looked like a masterpiece just like that.

“Harder,” you breathed, and he obliged. Your skin met over and over and the sounds filled your tent. He grunted, reaching down to rub on your clit, eliciting a gasp from you. “Oh, right there,” your voice was getting higher, letting him know you were close. “Don't stop, fuck, please, don't stop.”

“I won', baby. I gotcha,” he moaned. “Fuckin' love this pussy.”

His thrusts became more and more urgent, each one hitting that sweet spot that made your body arch and your toes curl. If your hands weren't inside his gasp you'd be grasping the sheet beneath you. With one last flick of your clit, you shattered.

His mouth claimed yours to silence your cries of pleasure. Pure ecstasy filled your body, and prolonging your high, Daryl continued moving inside you, until he, too, reached his peak, quickly pulling out and releasing himself on your stomach.

Spent and breathless, he collapsed next to you, who was in the same state as him. Your body tingled with the remnants of your passion, and you couldn't help the smile on your face as he kissed your temple lazily.

Your eyelids were too heavy to notice when he pulled out a little rag from somewhere and cleaned you up, then you felt him put your clothes on again, and his too. All too relaxed, you nestled into his embrace as he pulled you into his arms, both falling asleep in a matter of seconds.

Taglist: @ledgeria16 @poisonmedixon (forgot to add it when I first posted, sorry!)

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon imagine #twd daryl dixon #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon headcanons #twd #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixion imagine #twd fanfiction

[mydearestdaryl]

Cleansing The Mind, The Soul And The Body | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF credits to @reedusmcbridedaily.*

Summary: Getting Daryl to take a shower or a bath when he wasn't in the mood was never easy. It took a lot of skillful convincing and even some bribery. Luckily, as his wife, all it took was a batting of your eyelashes and he was putty in your hands—and you took this to your advantage.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Alexandria; post Saviour arc, pre the building of the bridge.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of past abuse, Daryl's scars.

Word count: 1.6k

A/n: A fic born from this idea by @louifaith. Hope you like this! This was originally supposed to be a 500 word blurb but I got carried away lol.

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The sun was almost completely gone from the sky. The first stars of the night sky were twinkling brightly outside the window of the bathroom in your shared home with Daryl, and the calming, cool breeze was flowing in through the slightly open window. The water was starting to fill up the bathtub, and you meticulously added just enough bubble bath liquid you had found on a run a few weeks prior.

Behind you, Daryl was reluctantly slowly undressing himself, carelessly tossing his shirt into the laundry hamper. He was grumbling to himself under his breath, making you laugh lightly.

“Whatever you want to say, you can say it to my face, Dixon,” you joked, turning the faucet off and turning around to face your half naked husband.

Daryl rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Nothin',” he answered, slowly stepping out of his jeans and boxers and walking over to the bathtub and settling into the bubbly water. “Let's just get this fuckin' over with already.”

You chuckled affectionately, settling onto your knees beside the bathtub and bringing a hand up to brush through his hair. Even though the archer didn't admit it, the warm water of the bathtub was soothing the aches in his body. And your soft hand gently threading through his hair had him practically melting into the water. Despite originally being against the idea of having you bathe him, insisting that he wasn't a little kid and he didn't need someone cleaning him, if he was already so content with just your hand in his hair, he didn't even want to know how relaxed he'd feel if you were to gently wash him.

Daryl subconsciously leaned into your touch and let out a small, content sigh, eliciting a light laugh from you. “Relaxed? I thought you didn't want this. Didn't you say that you "didn't need to be babied" and that "this would be a waste of time"?”

Daryl grumbled under his breath, lightly swatting your hand away. “Shut up,” he mumbled, trying to hide how his lips twitched up into a smile.

You giggled and leaned over the bathtub, catching his lips for a quick, tender kiss, before pulling away again. “Okay, handsome. What first? Body or hair?”

“Hair,” Daryl replied slowly, suddenly feeling hyper aware of the fact that he was naked and vulnerable in front of your eyes.

You nodded and carefully got to work on his hair, wetting it and carefully applying shampoo, working it into his hair while lightly scratching his scalp. “I love your hair. Long hair really suits you.”

“Yeah?” he asked, looking at you.

“Yeah. It compliments your features perfectly. I love it.”

Daryl closed his eyes and basked in the caring, loving moment. However, he couldn't help the nervousness that creeped up on him. The scars on his body were on full display, but luckily the ones on his back were hidden from your view for now. He chastised himself for feeling so insecure about his scars—you were his partner for two years before you became his wife a couple of months prior, and a loyal companion and friend for two years before that, dating all the way back to the quarry. You were well aware of his scars and about his father's abuse, and always worshipped him and reassured him that his scars were nothing to be ashamed of, but that didn't stop his insecurity from creeping up from time to time.

And what should've been a loving, tender moment could potentially be ruined by his insecurity.

While applying the conditioner to his hair, you noticed his now opened eyes staring ahead at the wall, his eyebrows furrowed together as he subconsciously crossed his arms over his chest, right over his scars. You instantly knew what was going through his mind, and you took it on yourself to lift his spirits.

You gently cupped his cheek with one of your hands, prompting him to look at you. His beautiful, ocean coloured eyes locked with your eyes, and you could clearly see the turmoil within their beautiful depths. It made your heart ache to know that someone caused the man you loved so much harm. If his father was still alive, Daryl wouldn't have had to worry about a confrontation with him. No, you would've given the man a taste of his own cruel medicine and after that, you would've killed him.

“Baby,” you whispered softly. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”

Daryl could feel a blush creep up onto his cheeks. He scoffed and ducked his head, letting his wet hair fall in front of his eyes. “Stop,” he mumbled, but he couldn't help the small smile that crept up onto his face.

You giggled and tucked his hair behind his ears. “You are! You're so beautiful, Daryl. I can't believe how lucky I got with you. I won't be surprised if every woman here has a crush on you. Well, except Tara, but other than her...”

“Nah,” he denied and shook his head in disagreement. “Ain't no woman who would give me the time of day 'cept ya. 'Sides, even if there were, I ain't need no other woman. I already have the perfect one.”

You smiled and leaned over for another kiss, this one lasting longer than the previous one. You pulled back with a soft laugh, admiring the man who you'd come to love above everything else.

“And you swear on your life that you're not a romantic. That last line was smooth, Dixon,” you mused, grabbing the soap bar that smelled like lavender and turned back to the archer. “Is this okay?” you asked, motioning to his body.

Daryl's heart swelled at your thoughtfulness. You never wanted to do something that would make him uncomfortable, and he appreciated you for that. Nobody understood him quite like you did.

“Yeah, s'fine,” he replied with a nod, pushing that nagging voice in the back of his mind away. You loved him, every part of him. If you didn't, you would've run for the hills a long time ago. You weren't freaked out by his scars. You loved him for him, scars and all, and he'd be damned if he let his self deprecating thoughts ruin a good, loving moment.

The two of you remained in a comfortable silence for a few minutes while you continued to wash his body. However, when he slowly sat forward so that you could wash his back, you broke the serene silence with your loving, soft whispers.

“You're so strong, Dar,” you whispered, gently tracing your soapy fingers over his scars. An involuntary shiver traveled across Daryl's spine, eliciting a small giggle from you. “You're a warrior. You've been fighting to live the life you deserve even before the dead started rising. You've been surviving for far longer than most of us. That makes you so fucking brave, baby. And I know you don't feel like it, but you deserved to be loved, and you are loved. Rick loves you. Michonne loves you. Carol, Maggie, Rosita, Aaron, all of them. But I can assure you, nobody loves you as much as I do. I've never loved anyone as much as I love you. I'd die for you. I'd kill for you. I'd do anything for you.”

Daryl inhaled sharply. He swallowed hard, willing the lump in his throat to go away. Hearing that from you was exactly what he needed in that moment. He knew it would be a long journey for him until he actually believed he was worthy of love, worthy of your love, but with you by his side, he knew he'd get there eventually.

“I love ya,” he whispered, staring into your eyes to let you know he meant it. He truly did love you. Nothing could ever change that.

“I love you too,” you answered with a smile, gently rinsing the soap from his back before grabbing the handheld showerhead and instructing him to lean his head back. You carefully rinsed the conditioner from his hair, bringing an end to the bath time.

You grabbed a towel and shook it out, using it to dry your husband. He looked at you in amusement but allowed you to do so, not-so-secretly enjoying the attention you were giving him. You then grabbed the fresh pair of boxers and handed it to him, as well as a pair of flannel pants. He got dressed in them and turned back at you.

“Lift your arms,” you instructed, watching the man lift an eyebrow at you but complying nonetheless. You helped him slip his shirt on, and after he was dressed, you wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled your face into his clothed chest.

Daryl wasted no time in returning the hug. He tightly wrapped his arms around you, placing a kiss to the top of your head before resting his chin there. He gently rocked you from side to side.

“Dar?” you whispered, catching his attention.

“Hm?”

“Do you wanna cuddle?”

“Mhm.”

“You wanna be the little spoon?” you asked, giggling as Daryl's arms tightened around you. You already knew what the answer was without him having to say anything. “C'mon. Let's go to bed, handsome.”

[mydearestdaryl]

surrogate comfort

summary. daryl comes to your home, finding peace between your legs before you relieve his homeward bound struggles

warnings. smut (just a little fem!reader receiving oral), angst, mentions and descriptions of abuse, commitment, young!daryl

MINORS DNI (18+), I DO NOT CONTROL YOUR CONSUMPTION ON THIS BLOG 👻

divider credits. @cafekitsune

An undeniable sensation pooled in the apex below your abdomen, causing your eyelids to flutter slowly open from your slumber. Your brows drew firmly together as your mouth gaped wildly open, releasing silent sounds of pleasured expression. But you were forced by the consuming reality in your brain to push the face that rested against your thighs, and the heavenly lips that had already landscaped the area of your cunt in prior situations.

Daryl hadn’t fallen asleep beside you, he had sullenly returned to his poisonous putridity of his home the eve before, dreading his father’s exploitive rage. As much as you wanted to continue receiving the fantastic oral that he was perfectly tainting your body with, you were commended by your saint lifestyle to shuffle away, rejecting his efforts of keeping his face attached to your most intimate area.

“D.” You addressed him by the initial, reaching beside you to pull at the dangling string of your bedside lamp so that the bulb would create an ambience that would aid your eyesight, rather than squinting in his direction through the consuming darkness. Daryl melted his face in the tousled sheets that rested raggedly beside your legs, chewing anxiously on his bottom lip.

He just wanted to see you, and get lost in one of his all time hobbies so that he wouldn’t need to bring acknowledgment to the repetitive reason as to why he had snuck in your home with the key that you had gifted him in the dead of night. “Daryl… look at me honey.” With concern filled empathy, you combed through his brunette locks with your fingers, squeezing your thighs together so that he wouldn’t be able to visualise his sacred escape for the moment.

This was important, far more important than any sexual activity. It took him a couple of minutes to finally build up the strength to comply with your soft demand; you weren’t forcing him, he was well aware of that fact, however he resented skulking away from your embracing and delicate nurturing, and thus he drew his face upwards, his blue and bruised eyes connecting with your orbs that unfortunately did not hold shock.

His father was sadistically cruel, he never let up on a chance to unleash his pent up frustrations and anger out on his sons, it was why Merle had joined the military - to escape the man that had raised them without any aspect of love. It didn’t matter that you were half nude due to his skilful appearance, you shuffled down the bed towards him, crossing your legs as you brushed your fingertips across his shoulder that was clothed in a shirt made of tired fabric, and he restrained a wince.

“Oh honey.” You cooed, seeing a horizon of purples and blues and deepening greys that harshened his features. “You can stay here, for as long as you need. I’d hate for you to keep going back there, so…” You braced yourself to say the words aloud, aware that Daryl was a young man whom was easily shaken. “Why don’t you move in?” You would never hurt him, emotionally or physically, no matter what situation that you found yourselves in.

Your blood boiled like there was a stove interlinking your veins to your arteries as you thought of any man bringing such abuse upon their child, but especially horrid old William and his treatment of Daryl. The bruised son’s lips conveyed his emotions in a wobbling manner, as he allowed his well constructed walls to lower, and water glazed in his eyes. He held you, and sobbed, and sobbed, until he was all out of frustrated tears, and you knew then, he would be using that silver key every day.

[mydearestdaryl]

Question for Daryl readers and writers: How different do you think Daryl and Carol's relationship would be if Daryl met his s/o in the quarry, too? or if he already had a s/o pre-apocalypse

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

[mydearestdaryl]

"You're one of the good things in this world"

"That's what Glenn thought"

"And he would know because he was one of the good things too"

[mydearestdaryl]

I can confirm

daryl pre-apocalypse dating headcanons

divider credits. @cafekitsune

he would be nervous to date you, especially with the looming opinions of his father and merle lingering in the back of his mind, but it didn’t matter, he loved you and wouldn’t let anyone, especially them stand in the way of him finding his own happiness

each day he saw you it would put a smile on his face that he would try and hide but fail to keep from your sight

daryl wouldn’t be very much into pda, except if it was in a crowded area (he hated those), so he would hold your hand and when he’d get more stressed he’d squeeze your hand

motorcycle dates where he’d take you to the middle of nowhere

he would teach you how to hunt (unless you were against it), and how to shoot his crossbow

^^ he would put up targets for you to practice on against trees and would love to wrap his arms around you to help with the angle of which you held the weapon

he would love cuddling with you since he’s a touch starved bby whilst something random is playing on the television

he’d dance with you slowly and softly in the kitchen of your apartment with the radio on, to some old song that neither of you had ever heard

he would apologise profusely if you cleaned up after him (e.g. clothes and boots on the floor, toothpaste cap open, toilet seat up etc)

on the weekends you would just order pizza for dinner

if you were having any trouble with your car, he’d tell you to screw the idea of taking it to the garage and deal with it himself

he’d adore to see you smile at the most random things, like if you saw a child with a balloon or if he was the reason he would swoon even more

he would sleep with either his head on your chest using your boobs as a pillow, or you’d be spooning

if you have any scars he’d kiss them all each morning and night

smoking together before bedtime or with your morning coffees

neither of you had much money, so your little home wouldn’t be much, it would give small cozy cabin in the woods vibes, but it would be perfect

he’d let you trim his hair (on his head and facial)

feeling as though he has to protect you from merle and his friends, knowing that they made comments about you and your body from time to time

he would get insecure if anyone checked you out, and so you would reassure him without any irritancy he was the only one you wanted

showering together

him being scared to show you all of the scars across his body, especially the ones on his back. but during the first time when you scatter his flesh with kisses, he is no longer afraid, instead it becomes like a therapeutic massage

he would get you a promise ring, not something expensive but thoughtful and state that one day it would be replaced with a diamond

[mydearestdaryl]

my favorite boy <3

Seizing for a part two of young!daryl head cannons omg😩

Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU Headcannons Part Two | Young!Daryl Dixon x Young!Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine.*

Word count: 853.

A/n: Here's a part two of my personal headcannons while I mentally prepare myself for the scene I'm about to write in my newest fic. Hope y'all like these!

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

★ So it's quite common for us Daryl writers to have him call the reader "Sunshine", but I feel like it explains a lot about how he feels about you in this.

★ He definitely called you sunshine long before you actually got together. It's because Daryl sees his life as a bad thunderstorm, but you're the ray of sunshine that breaks through the devastating downpour.

★ Of all the things he loves the most about you, his favourite physical thing about you is your thighs. Whether you guys are watching movies on the couch and are cuddling, whether you're with him when he's driving, whether you guys are doing more... not-so-family-friendly activities, it doesn't matter. He loves gripping them. It's his absolute favourite.

★ Despite that, however, he's definitely a boob guy. He just can't hold them when you're in public, so your thighs share first place with them.

★ He definitely is also enamoured with your smile. It just makes his day so much better whenever he sees it.

★ He wanted to drop out of high school, but you talked him out of it—it wasn't easy, and you promised him that you'd support him either way, but he decided to stick it out and graduate.

★ In the first part, I mentioned that you and your mom lived with your grandparents until you were six. I definitely headcannon that your grandparents didn't love you and were deeply disappointed in your mom—they are really conservative and couldn't come to terms with the fact that their daughter got pregnant at 18.

★ They were abusive to you. Whether it was physically or mentally, that I'll let y'all decide for future fics.

★ Despite that, you remained positive. That was over a decade ago and you had refused a long time ago to allow them to be an anchor around your neck.

★ You talked to Daryl about them a while after you officially got together.

★ You told them about what they did and that made Daryl realise why you were so patient and caring with him. You understood.

★ On a more lighthearted note, Daryl has an unhealthy obsession with playing little pranks on you.

★ He's usually a serious guy, but with you, he allows himself to let loose. He plays pretty innocent pranks on you, like swapping your toothpaste out for mayonnaise. Never anything that could hurt you.

★ You always returned the favour, though, and that started many prank wars between the two of you.

★ Daryl isn't a great dancer, but sometimes he'll pull you into his arms and just sway with you, with or without music.

★ You absolutely loved it, even if you didn't understand why he did it.

★ “D, not that I'm complaining, but what's this about?”

★ “Jus' 'cause.” He never revealed more than that.

★ He would never tell you this, put he loved wearing face masks with you.

★ He kind of loved the way his skin felt afterwards. However, he loved how giggly you would get whenever he put up a "fight" and then finally agree to it.

★ He would always agree to it, but he allowed you to think you convinced him to change his mind. He'd let you have that just to see your radiant smile and hear your radiant laugh.

★ He lives for forehead kisses. Whether it's him giving them or receiving them from you, he doesn't care. He just loves them.

★ You and Daryl had both walked in on your mom being all lovey dovey with a man and teased her endlessly for it.

★ She always teased you and Daryl, so it was only fair to repay the favour, you had told her once.

★ She knew it was all in good fun, though, so she didn't scold you for it.

★ Your mom and Daryl are close. Not in a gross way, but in a familial way. She sees Daryl as her son-in-law.

★ She worked a lot of nightshirts at the bar and more often than not walked in the next morning to find you and Daryl acting all romantic in the kitchen.

★ Has she accidentally walked in on you and Daryl having sex? She would never tell...

★ She has met William Dixon, as stated in the previous part, and absolutely hated the guy for what he was doing to Daryl.

★ She may or may not have been the reason why he had a flat tyre once and was late to something.

★ She had grown to heavily dislike her parents for how they treated her when she got pregnant with you. She vowed to herself that if you were to get pregnant at that age, she would never make you feel like you were worthless. She may have been a kid having a kid, but she loved you dearly and couldn't imagine her life without you.

★ She knew she wasn't always the best mom, but she tried her best and hoped she was doing okay.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

Okay, so here's part two. I might make a part three?

[mydearestdaryl]

it's a need.

normalize wanting to hold men like babies and kiss their foreheads <3

[mydearestdaryl]

mouth watering.

jesus christ.

[mydearestdaryl]

SAME. My favorite authors have been liking and reposting my first fics. My heart can't take it.

When I read a fanfic I like, the author becomes a mini celebrity to me. So when an author with a work I like kudos’ or comments on my own fanfic I just-

[mydearestdaryl]

young Daryl written by you is perfection 🤍

Imagine this…. for the young daryl X young reader au

Reader has a camcorder which she carries around when her and daryl go on little trips and they end up finding it again after years for whatever reason and it’s a nice little fluffy scene where they relive earlier times together before everything

A Trip Down Memory Lane | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine.*

Summary: While unpacking your things for your new apartment with Daryl, you stumbled across an old video camera you had used to film little moments between you and Daryl in your teen years. A visit down memory lane gives Daryl the push he needed to ask you something important.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Pre outbreak.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams universe.

Warnings: Swearing.

Word count: 1.5k

A/n: This request was so cute! I hope you don't mind that I paired it with another idea I had. It just seemed like it would fit perfectly. And I made Daryl romantic in this because he's a romantic deep down.

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“Dear god, what the fuck was I thinking? That style was horrible!”

Daryl laughed at your comment, pulling you closer into his side. “I think ya looked cute. Kinda like Minnie Mouse in a way.”

“That doesn't make it any less horrible. Polka dots and frilly pink headbands are not my thing,” you laughed, skipping to the next video on the video camera you had found.

You and Daryl were in the midst of unpacking the boxes with all of your things. The two of you had just recently found a cheap enough apartment to rent and were busy organising everything when you had stumbled upon an old video camera that you had used when you were teenagers. Everything else was quickly forgotten as you and Daryl sat in the middle of what should be the living room, surrounded by a bunch of boxes as you took a trip down memory lane.

“Fuck, please tell me tha' ain't me,” Daryl groaned when a younger version of him appeared on the screen. “Jesus, buddy. Ya ever heard of sunlight? It'd do ya good to work on yer tan. Ya look like a fuckin' sheet of paper.”

You chuckled at the comment, nodding your head in agreement. “You do kinda look pale in this.”

“Looks like I needed at least 50 blood transfusions. M'surprised I didn't drop dead back then,” Daryl agreed, shaking his head in disapproval of his former self. “Can't believe s'already been a decade. Feels like jus' yesterday when we were back in yer mom's trailer.”

“Time flies. Now we're moving in to what is hopefully our last apartment for a while. You've got a great job down at that motorcycle repair shop and I've got a great teaching gig,” you replied, placing the video camera down next to you.

Daryl nodded. “Mhm,” he agreed, before giving you a playful smile. “Dun' know 'bout yer gig, though. Those five year olds are gremlins. They're gon' eat ya alive when ya start on Monday. Ya dun' stand a chance.”

You faked an offended gasp and shoved him lightly, eliciting a laugh from him. “I'll have you know, Mr Dixon, that I'm more than capable of handling a couple of five year olds. I've been doing it for two years.”

Daryl smiled and pulled you closer into his side, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “Yeah, I know. S'those high schoolers yer plannin' on teachin' one day tha's gon' eat ya up. Teenagers are the real ones ya should look out for.”

“Luckily that won't be for a while. I'm quite content on just teaching the little ones for now,” you responded, nuzzling your face into his chest. “And teenagers aren't that bad. Most of them are just misunderstood. Some of them are in situations a lot like—”

Despite cutting yourself off, Daryl knew exactly what you meant. If it were any other person, Daryl would've gotten pissed, but it wasn't just any other person. It was you, the love of his life, the person who's stuck with him despite everything, because of everything. He wouldn't fault you for one slip up. God only knows he'd said so much worse a couple of years ago, but you forgave him.

You were amazing to him like that.

“Situations a lot like wha' I went through,” Daryl finished for you, letting out a deep sigh.

“Sorry,” you hurriedly apologised, pulling back slightly to look into your boyfriend's eyes. “I didn't mean to bring it up. I—”

A tender kiss to your lips shut you up instantly. When Daryl pulled back, he gave you a reassuring smile. The last thing he wanted was for you to feel like he'd get mad at you for one minor slip of the tongue.

“S'alrigh',” he reassured you. “M'not mad. And yer righ'. There's way too many kids tha' go through wha' I went through. Tha's why any highschool would be lucky to have ya. Ya could help a lot of kids in situations like tha'. No, ya will help a lot of kids in situations like tha'. Jus' like ya helped me.”

You smiled and gently cupped his cheek, bringing him into a sweet kiss. “I love you,” you whispered when you pulled away, resting your forehead against his.

“I love ya too. More than ya'll ever know,” he responded, before pulling away and reaching for something in his pocket. “But maybe this will give ya a glimmer of how much I love ya.”

You gasped in surprise, happy tears welling up in your eyes. A choked up laugh escaped you, ecstasy flooding through your body as your eyes flickered between the man you loved and the small, round object he held delicately between his fingers.

A ring.

“I know this ain't the most expensive ring out there, and it dun' have some big diamond in the middle tha's worth more than this apartment, but m'hopin' s'enough. If I could get a better one, I would, and I will someday. Someday when I finally get promoted and yer teachin' high schoolers, when we dun' have to worry 'bout rent and shit like tha'.”

You smiled through your tears, another small laugh escaping. “Daryl—”

“Nah, please let me finish 'fore I chicken out,” he cut you off. When you nodded, he continued. “Ya've always been there fer me. Ever since we were twelve and ya started joinin' me by tha' river. When I needed ya the most, ya were always there with a reassurin' smile and a willin' ear. Then ya became my girlfriend ten years ago, and despite everythin', ya've stuck with me. Despite my outbursts, my baggage, my brother...”

You laughed at that. “I really don't like your brother.”

Daryl chuckled and nodded. “I know, but ya stayed. Fer ten years now, ya've been by my side. Yer my best friend, my partner in crime, the love of my life, and there's no one I wanna spend the rest of my days with than the beautiful, kind, funny, smart woman right in front of me. Yer my ray of sunshine, the one who always manages to make me feel better.”

Daryl adjusted himself until he was on one knee in front of you. Your breath got caught in your throat, and you scrambled to sit on your knees, your eyes sparkling in wonder as the ring glinted in the light.

“Sunshine, would ya do me the honour of bein' my wife?”

Words completely eluded you at that moment. You quickly grabbed his face and brought him into a kiss, that particular kiss conveying more than words ever could. When you pulled away, you smiled softly at him.

“Yes, I'll marry you. You didn't even have to ask.”

Daryl let out a sigh of relief and pulled you into his arms, hugging you tightly. “God, tha' was nerve wrackin'.”

You laughed as you pulled away from the hug. “I bet. You know, for a man of few words, that speech was kind of incredible. It definitely beat the one I had planned for you.”

Daryl frowned in confusion. “Wha' speech fer me?”

Nervously, you reached into your own pocket and pulled out a silver band. Daryl's eyes widened in surprise as you showed him the ring you had.

“I was kinda getting fed up with waiting for you to pop the question, so I was gonna take matters into my own hands.”

Daryl let out a laugh of surprise and shook his head. “Wow,” he mused. “Gender roles be damned, huh?”

“Damn straight,” you agreed, before motioning to the ring in his hand. “You can slip the ring on my finger, Mr Dixon.”

Complying with your request, he slipped the ring onto your finger. Before you even had to ask, Daryl extended his left hand to you. You smiled and slipped his own ring onto his finger.

Looking at the ring, Daryl smiled fondly. “Ya continue to surprise me everyday, Mrs Dixon.”

“I'm not a Dixon yet,” you reminded him, allowing him to pull you into his arms for the millionth time that day. “But I could be one soon. Maybe tomorrow, even.”

“Ya suggestin' we elope?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at the idea—an idea that sounded absolutely perfect to him. “Yer mom would kill us if she found out.”

“Well,” you began, admiring the ring on your finger. “It's better to ask for forgiveness than permission. Besides, we don't need some elaborate wedding to show how much we love each other. All we need is each other, and someone willing to officiate. We can go to the courthouse tomorrow.”

“Tha' sounds absolutely perfect,” Daryl agreed, pressing a kiss to your head.

“By the way, if you buy me another ring in the future to replace this one, I will be pissed. This ring is perfect.”

“Whatever makes ya happy, Mrs Dixon. I love ya.”

“I love you too.”

[mydearestdaryl]

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 ‧₊˚ ✧

Summary: Daryl realizes he is in love with you (fluff mostly). Warnings: TWD violence, blood & gore, character deaths, explicit language. Pairing: Daryl Dixon x reader. Setting: Prison. A/N: Not thoroughly proofread, and English is not my first language, so please point out any mistakes if you find any! Thank you for reading!

You were pretty. So pretty to his eyes and to the eyes of anyone else with an ounce of common sense and the ability to see—he was sure of that.

He believed you were everything he was not. At first, he envied it a little, but now he admires it.

You were spring and sunshine. The flowers when they're in full bloom. You were a breath of fresh air. You were art. You were a masterpiece made by an artist who was in love. You were a poem written as the vows of a groom deeply enamored. You were a perfect first kiss. You were love.

Not only was your face pretty but your heart and mind were too. You were smart, compassionate, and kind. A real-life angel, as many would say. Those wings that decorated his vest would suit you a lot more than him.

He had never felt this way before for anyone, but he figured most people probably felt like this for you as well, because who wouldn't. He firmly believed it was a natural reaction to your pretty and kind self. Human nature.

He could stare at you for hours. Listen to you for hours. And if only he could touch you… no, what was he thinking?

Now Daryl watched as you folded the laundry, chatting with Maggie, who you were sharing this chore with. He was supposed to be killing the walkers at the fence with Carol, who was looking at him with a knowing smirk while she actually did the task, which he hadn't noticed he stopped doing because of the trance he was currently in.

He only snapped out of it when he heard Carol giggle next to him.

"Wha'?" he squinted his eyes, returning to the task as if nothing happened.

She chuckled at this, poking one last walker through the fence before they walked back to the cell block. "You're so in love," she teased him, shaking her head before grabbing her rag from her pocket to dry the sweat on her forehead.

His frown turned into a scowl, but behind it she found genuine confusion. He spared a quick glance in your direction, watching as you tried to apologize between bright laughter while Maggie scolded you; the folded laundry on the floor now. It made the corners of his mouth twitch, a smile threatening to appear, but he managed to avoid it.

His eyes returned to Carol's, who had witnessed the scene and looked at him again like she knew. He scoffed, a hand flying up shortly in a dismissive gesture. "Yer crazy," he huffed, making her laugh as she followed him.

The sun was setting, and everybody now sat at the table or steps of the kitchen while enjoying a hearty stew made by Beth and Hershel. Rick was holding Judith, eating next to you, who did the same while talking to Rick and playing with the baby, and Daryl found himself staring again. He just couldn't stop.

As if sensing his eyes, yours made contact with him, and he froze, almost choking on the piece of carrot he was swallowing, making him cough. You made him feel so dumb.

Next thing he knew Carol was handing him a glass of water. "Can't have you die choking on veggies in a world full of walkers," she joked as she sat next to him. "Especially not before tomorrow, right?" the woman added, wiggling her brows teasingly.

His eyebrows met. "Tomorrow?" he asked breathlessly after drinking the whole glass of water at once, drying his mouth with the back of his hand. She nodded. Oh! "Ah, yeah, righ', tomorrow," he said casually, as if it wasn't a big deal. But truly, he was nervous as hell.

Tomorrow you'd be going with Daryl to hunt for the first time in months and for whatever reason it made him feel pretty fucking nervous.

"(Y/NNNN), I can't find the last word, Glenn, Beth, and Maggie tried to find it too," Carl complained, plopping down next to you with the crossbow book you gifted him in his hands, "I swear it's not here, they're lyin' to us," the pre-teen said, looking genuinely exasperated, making you laugh.

Oh, that laugh. So airy and clear. It made your pretty eyes shine. He liked it when they shined, but not because of tears. You were pretty when crying too, but only when the crying was because you were happy. He hated when you cried out of pain or sadness; it made his heart all sad and heavy too.

A loud clear of a throat brought him back to reality. Annoyed to stop looking at you, he looked up, and he found Hershel. The same smile as Carol was wide on his face. "Sorry to interrupt," he said.

For how long did he stare? Because Carol was now picking up the dirty dishes with Rick's help. "These got mixed with my clothes," the vet explained, handing the hunter a couple of folded button-ups, new ones that Glenn got him on his last run after Carol asked him to. Daryl nodded gratefully and was about to get up and leave when Hershel sat next to him on the steps, a hand on the hunter's shoulder.

"You know..." the older man started, his gaze on you as you laughed with Carl, "this world offers few but precious joys these days. When we find someone who makes life a little brighter, who eases our burden even a small bit, that's a gift we'd be fools not to embrace."

Daryl glanced at Hershel, his eyes pleading for answers underneath uncertainty. Hershel continued, "Love gives us purpose to keep fighting. It soothes our souls when times are darkest. Don't be afraid to open your heart, son. Life is too short and brutal not to seize happiness where you find it."

Chewing on his bottom lip, Daryl nodded, his eyes on you until you waved at Carol, Hershel, and him, wishing everybody goodnight, Carl did the same when you silently reprimanded him for not doing so.

"I love 'er?" Daryl asked, but it sounded more like a confession. Hershel laughed before he slowly got up from his seat.

"That's a question only you have the answer to, son. Goodnight," with a pat on Daryl's shoulder, the man made his way to his cell.

That night Daryl stayed up for hours deciphering his own feelings. It scared him to be in love with you because any outcome could be negative. You either felt the same and it would make him feel worse if something ever happened to you; he'd have more to lose. Or, you didn't feel the same and he'd be rejected, which would make him feel like shit.

But, like Hershel said, happiness was worth a shot, especially in this world, where it was a rare thing to come by. So with a new determination, he allowed sleep to take him, not noticing the smile on his face as he fell asleep.

The next morning he woke up before the sun, as usual. Throwing on yesterday's jeans after figuring they were clean enough, and a clean button-up with cut-off sleeves, he headed to the kitchen, pleasantly surprised to find you there already.

You were making coffee and smiled when you saw him approaching. Butterflies.

"Hi, Dar," your soft voice greeted him as you handed him a cup of coffee. The coffee was a little old, but it felt like a luxury nowadays. He nodded in response and as a thank you for the coffee. "Oh, look, I washed this one yesterday!" you mentioned, fixing the collar of his shirt quickly.

"'S getting dirty again today, sorry 'bout that," he added, finishing his drink and placing it on the counter, attempting to avoid eye contact. He heard you saying something like 'It's okay' while getting your bow and arrows. Once both were ready, you headed out, saying goodbye to Glenn and Maggie who were on watch.

The walk to the woods was silent, but not uncomfortable. He knew you were still sleepy because getting you to shut up was an issue when you were awake enough. Not that he minded your talkativeness, he actually found it endearing, but it wasn't ideal for hunting.

As you crept through the woods, Daryl seemed lost in thought. When he found a deer trail and pointed it out, you noticed his hands were uncharacteristically unsteady. "Ya wanna try leadin'?" he asked, surprising you.

Remembering everything he'd taught you before, you led the two of you, following the trail, and keeping an eye on the ground in deep concentration. You were doing pretty good, earning many quiet compliments from him.

Suddenly Daryl's hand closed around your wrist, stopping you.

"Wait. I...there's somthin' I gotta say," For what felt like the first time today, he looked into your eyes, his icy blue eyes looking particularly warm. "Been thinkin'. Thinking 'bout how...when we're together, the bad shit disappears, even just for a while."

Your heart swelled at this rare show of vulnerability. Still he struggled to voice deeper feelings. Your hand found his own and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Daryl's throat bobbed in a swallow. "What I'm tryin' to say is... yer important to me. More than most. An' I was wonderin'... I... If," he sighed, why was this so fucking difficult?

Looking away, he chewed on his bottom lip, but you stopped him, grabbing his hand and placing it on your chest where he could feel your heart. "I'm nervous too," your voice was quiet, but it grounded him, "'cause I feel the same way, Daryl."

His eyes bounced between your lips and your eyes, "yea do?" you nodded and hummed.

"I'm sorry I didn't say anything before, but I... I don't know, I get a little shy around you," you shrugged, taking a deep breath.

His eyes widened subtly, looking like you just told him something absolutely insane. It made you giggle. "Why?"

"Because you're handsome and strong and smart and perfect and I really like you," your hands gently cupped his cheeks, tilting your head to the side a little, adoring eyes tracing his features. "I love you."

That was the confirmation he needed to lean forward, trapping your lips with his in a slow kiss, almost hesitant. Your hand found the back of his head, pulling him closer. His lips molded perfectly against yours, and his strong hands felt perfect as they found your waist, his thumbs rubbing circles on your clothed skin.

It felt like fireworks inside you.

He pulled you even closer, his tongue seeking entrance to your mouth which you gladly allowed. The taste of him almost made you melt. You wished you could tattoo the sensation of his kiss into your brain and remember it forever.

Only because of the lack of air did you pull away, breathing heavily and with dilated pupils. "I love ya too, sunshine," he confessed, smiling in a way you hadn't ever seen before. So perfect.

Taglist: @ledgeria16

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

[mydearestdaryl]

love this

That’s the least I could do for ma girl (Drabble)

Warnings: period, cramps, pain, just that.

You laid in the small bunk located in your cell, wrapped around a blanket, you hated that time of the month. At one moment you’d feel cold, in the next you’d be burning. Right now taken with cramps you seeked some warmth around your belly to help soothe your pain. With Woodbury joining the prison, the meds were scarce and you couldn’t have the luxury ibuprofen could give you.

That was how Daryl found you, tangled in the blanket on bed. “Hey sunshine, why are ya like this?” He sat on the bed and caressed your arm.

You laid facing the wall and curving on yourself as if you became smaller you’d feel less pain. “I have cramps…” you said, your voice weaker than you intended it to be.

“Do ya want some meds?” He asked and took some hair from your face. He supported himself with one arm and inclined over you so he could look at your face.

“We don’t have meds Dee.” You said the obvious. “And I don’t want you out there risking your life to get some or none.”

“What can I do to make you feel better?” His hand on your cheek, his thumb rubbing on your face.

“Nothing, don’t worry. It’s gonna pass.” You said. What you really needed was his arms around you, and he being a human heater warming your lower back and belly.

“If I lay with ya, do I help?” He asked genuinely trying to make you feel better. It’s not like he hadn’t seen you like this before. He had, but you weren’t a thing before, so he did what he could finding meds and trying to casually give them to you without saying it was because he saw you suffering and it broke his heart.

“Ye… no, I… what if I get you dirty with my blood? No, it’s better not.” Your face heated with embarrassment and you avoided his eyes, just like a teenage girl trying to hide her period from the boys. Daryl had already even went on run just to get you some pads when you didn’t have it, and now that you were dating, here you were all embarrassed.

“I don’t care. It’s gonna be the purest thing I’ve been ‘dirty’ with. Have you ever noticed what makes us dirty nowadays?” He said already taking his boots off. “That’s the least I could do for ma girl.” He was already laying with you, your back against his chest getting the so needed warmth.

You guided his hand that was in your stomach down and put it on top of the place where you felt the pain, while he gave you small kisses on your head, cheek, neck and shoulder. Little by little he felt you relaxing against his body as you felt more comfortable and the pain was subsiding. “Better?”

“Much better”