#daryl dixon one shot

[gutsby]

Best Served Cold

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Since your fiancé can’t seem to keep his hands off of Lori, you decide Daryl is the perfect way to make him pay. Revenge sex has never felt so good.

Warning: NSFW. Attempted SA. Unprotected p-in-v. I don’t condone cheating (unless it’s on abusers lol). Semi-public sex and getting caught doing it in a tent 🫣 Based on this kickass idea from @dilfsandmartinis (I'm so sorry it took this long for me to post the story) !! 💓

Your man returned to your tent that night like he did most others: slick with sweat and too tired for sex. At least not again, not with you. He would undoubtedly claim to have been checking the perimeter, standing guard like a good leader should, but any blind man in that quarry camp could’ve seen he was just boning Lori.

A lot.

You were really more offended that he thought you stupid enough to abide by his lies than the fact he was fucking someone else. That part wasn’t new—his dick never knew how to stay in one hole longer than a month or two—but in an apocalypse? With his newly-deceased best friend’s widow? That was low, even for Shane.

Which was why you felt no compunction yourself as you slipped quietly from your tent toward the water’s edge that night, pink vibrator clutched tightly in hand.

Useful little thing that it was, a six-setting suction device that worked wonders on your clit, even underwater. You figured since Shane couldn’t be bothered with you or your sexual pleasure so long as the former Mrs. Grimes was occupying his time, you’d make use of this sex toy instead and start really leaning into the “self care” you’d been craving for so long.

The water was warm all the way up to your chest, and the air around you tepid. You moved around, treaded in place, and finally reached comfortable bearings a couple yards from shore. You relished the solitude and silence.

The moment you felt the toy come to life in your hand, you couldn’t help but smile. Exhaling as you brought the tip close to your center.

“Shit.” Even the gentlest setting too harsh on your clit, you nipped your lower lip and bit back a whimper.

You swirled it lightly on your inner thigh, tried painstakingly as ever to acclimate yourself to the buzz of the rubber, but damn were you sensitive. Almost too tender to be touched, too ripe with excitement and aching for the feel of something on you, or in you, or just barely skimming the surface of your skin underwater.

A low moan escaped your lips the second the head drifted back to your clit. Your toes curled into rough, rocky terrain underfoot, and your breaths started to quicken. You made a gentle motion with your hips—a sweet, semi-circular thing you’d been doing over Shane’s lower half as long as you could remember—begging for more friction, needing more of that mechanical hum.

You pressed the button for a higher setting. The peaks of your pleasure soared to new heights.

You were helpless to the trembling of your knees and felt immensely grateful for the water’s aid in keeping you straight. You pressed the rounded tip of the toy even tighter to your core and didn’t heed a thing around you as you sighed several expletives under your breath. A jolt of bliss washed over your body.

Your eyes had just started to close in the first throes of that wild sensation, when a new sound startled you.

“Ya done pissin’ or what?”

You shot a look toward the shore and saw a slightly less-than cheery individual standing at the edge of it, the toes of his boots grazing the incoming waves.

You froze in place. You hardly knew what to say.

“Ain’t safe fer you out here ‘n you know it. Come on.” Daryl beckoned you with one hand and started to turn.

At what point was it appropriate to tell him you were naked?

You thought he could surmise from the fact you were neck-deep in the water and refusing to move that maybe something more was keeping you in. Daryl seemed clueless, however.

“I ain’t got all night, kid,” he snorted, “’f you don’t hurry, Shane an’ the rest of ‘em’ll be out and— ah.”

Ah.

At the last, he stepped on a pile of clothes folded neatly on the shoreline nearby, undergarments and all.

So this wasn’t a midnight swim or a late night piss at all, but a full-blown skinny dip. He should have known you weren’t the bikini type.

Awkwardly, almost begrudgingly, Daryl gathered what clothes of yours he could and chucked them closer to the lake. Then he turned on his heels and stalked up the beach without another word—fuming, it seemed to you. Once averted, though, Daryl’s face betrayed a look of horror. Like a parent who’d just stumbled upon a box of condoms in their daughter’s sock drawer after swearing she was still a virgin.

In the few short weeks since you’d been thrown together in this mess, Daryl had practically taken to you like family. He hated Shane ‘Shit-for-Brains’ Walsh most days, it was true, but the fact that you were you, and times were tough, and nothing seemed to occupy Daryl’s mind quite like the thought of keeping you safe, that he had to keep you close at all times. He just hadn’t imagined your proximity would turn this intimate so suddenly.

“Keep up,” he spoke more sharply than usual. Didn’t even wait for you to dry and dress completely before snagging your hand in his.

You glanced at your taut, hardened nipples poking up through the damp material of your tank top and suddenly wished you’d brought a towel. Or a bra. Your shorts, too, clung to your ass like a second skin and made you feel extra bare before Daryl’s eyes—even if he hadn’t spared a look at you once as you’d traipsed behind him through the woods.

When you tripped, he held you up; when you nearly ate shit over several rocky spots, he carried you over them. His eyes never strayed toward your body, though.

Once you’d made it to the clearing where your group had made camp, Daryl lowered you to the ground and still couldn’t find it within himself to look your way. You shuffled uncomfortably on your feet, now standing inches away from the tent you shared with Shane.

“Thanks for...that,” you said, flatly.

Daryl managed a curt nod.

Before you turned in, you decided to venture a look at Daryl’s chest, and you felt an influx of embarrassment. The taupe-colored cutoff he wore as a shirt was soaked with water. Instinctively, you brushed your fingers over the stain—as if touching it might dry the fabric, or else mask your humiliation at being the cause. You tried not to evince a hint of surprise at how sturdy he felt.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Daryl.”

You hadn’t thought any man was capable of looking more afflicted than Daryl did before, but somehow, incredibly, he appeared even more ill at ease when you touched him. You immediately retracted your hand.

“’S’okay,” he managed. He would’ve given anything not to be where he was, or who he was, at that moment.

Just when another apology leapt to your tongue—feeling even worse that you might’ve crossed a physical boundary you shouldn’t have—a twig snapped close-by.

You and Daryl jumped in your skin. You turned toward the source of the sound.

Shane was tugging his pants into place, pulling the zip up in haphazard fashion as he marched out of the woods.

He’d either been blowing Lori’s back out (again) or off to take a piss in the bushes. By the looks of his dazed and drowsy expression, you guessed it was the latter.

“Got a nice rack, doesn’t she?” Shane observed, careless as ever.

He walked past the two of you and unzipped the tent.

“I was jus—” Daryl started.

“Don’t care,” Shane cut in, “Goodnight.”

You were amazed at the level of nonchalance your fiancé exhibited. On finding you soaked to the bone and touching another man in the middle of the night, the old Shane probably would’ve laid Daryl flat on his ass.

But overprotective, possessive Shane was no more.

Before disappearing into the tent, Shane reached for your elbow. You barely got another glimpse at Daryl as you were ushered inside.

The tent was re-zipped in an instant, and you assumed Daryl would be quick to leave the scene, too.

You turned and saw Shane fumbling to unscrew the lid of his canteen. Taking several big gulps before re-fastening the top, tossing the jug to the side, and letting out a sigh.

“You get a look at the hard-on he had?” Shane chuckled.

You almost choked on your spit.

“What?”

“Pitched a tent in his pants bigger’n this,” he returned, gesturing to the polyester enclosure overhead. Then he got back to his feet, walked over to you, and kept going, in spite of your perplexed expression, “He must really wanna fuck you.”

You blinked up at him, unsure if you were more baffled by Shane’s serene demeanor or the fact that you hadn’t noticed Daryl’s boner. You decided to overlook the erection for the time being.

“And you don’t...care if he did?” Instantly chiding yourself for the twinge of indignation in your tone.

“Nuh-uh,” Shane said. His hands came to rest comfortably on your hips, and he seemed to be hearing your words without really comprehending what you meant. As usual.

If he picked up on the irritation in your voice, he didn’t show it. He just rolled the denim of your shorts between his fingers and pulled you closer.

“This,” he hummed, fingers sinking between your legs, “is not for him.”

And Shane was community dick. Made sense.

You didn’t attempt to conceal your annoyance this time as you rolled your eyes and pushed his hands away.

“Well maybe if Daryl asked nicely…” you trailed off, starting toward the bed.

Shane stopped you before you could. He took a firmer hold of your sides and showed the first real hint of jealousy in his eyes. You were almost glad to see it.

“No,” Shane said, shaking his head. Then, snaking his touch back down your legs—with the fabric of your shorts fisted in his hands this time—he continued amidst your quiet protests.

You were gripping his wrists, trying to keep them from moving any further. But Shane was insistent.

“He wouldn’t get to ask nicely, because I’d blow his fucking brains out before he ever got the—”

“Shane.” You were actively shoving his hands off now. You didn’t mind this envious side coming back to the surface, but you would not, under any circumstance, be Shane’s sloppy seconds the same hour he’d fucked Lori.

“No. You— you smell like—” you cut yourself off before the woman’s name could leave your lips.

“Like what?” Shane snapped. Suddenly intrigued to hear what you had to say.

You tried to wriggle out of his grip, but when you couldn’t, and when he pressed you again, you sputtered some nonsense about his drinking—how he reeked of booze, not Rick’s wife.

“Thought you liked it when I fucked you drunk,” Shane grinned, voice dripping with condescension, “Said it gave me stamina.”

You’d said no such thing. You groaned lightly as Shane managed to pull your panties and shorts, together, to your ankles. When he started to take them off at your feet, he hardly seemed to notice your nails dig in his shoulders, silently begging him to stop.

“Think I should invite Daryl back over? Let him watch me fuck you stupid?” Shane’s mouth was hovering close to your center, hot breaths fanning over your lower half.

In any other situation, you would’ve craved him here: on his knees, ready to suck and lick and dick you down like he always used to do. But things were different now, you had to remind yourself. Apart from the walking dead invading your world, there was no Rick in the picture, no semblance of platonic feelings between his widow and your fiancé—you felt physically sick at the thought of Shane touching you now. You tried to stand the instant he threw you on the bed.

“Shane, I don’t wanna—”

“Fuck? Yeah, I figured,” Shane shrugged as he tried to peel your shirt off your body.

“Then quit,” you hissed. You were starting to fear the fabric might tear if you held on any tighter.

When it seemed evident you weren’t going to give in on the top, Shane let go and turned to his pants instead. Pinning you down with one hand, he unbuckled his belt as you whimpered and pleaded that he stop. The sounds only made the mound in his pants more pronounced.

The two of you had dabbled in CNC before, but this was not that. No safeword, no fallback, no trace of consent between you, and to be frank, you were starting to get scared. The second Shane freed his cock from his boxers, you felt a surge of panic rise to your chest.

“Fuck— STOP!” Without thinking, you jerked your knee.

You hadn’t meant to hit his balls so hard. But you did. And he folded in half, seizing with pain, while you took that as your chance to slide off the bed, slip on your panties—and hightail it the fuck out of there.

Shane’s cries pierced the night air like a blade through rotted flesh. You stumbled, half-blind in the dark, and blazed a reckless path through the tents all around you. Weaving in and out of neighboring spaces, searching desperately for any lone, dim glow of a lantern to tell you someone was awake to hear your pleas if needed. But sadly, no tent was alight but yours, and the entrance to that was presently being torn open once more as Shane staggered out there himself.

“Y/N!” he bellowed.

In your haste, you’d tripped over Glenn’s knapsack. You scraped your knee, scrambled back to your feet, and tried with everything in you not to make a sound as you retreated further from Shane’s voice.

You probably looked feral, weaving in and out of tents with your knee leaking blood and your pupils grown wide with fear. You scampered fast across the rocky campgrounds and made a beeline for the woods.

Until Shane’s footsteps fell heavy mere feet away.

Quickly changing course, you dove for the nearest tent and ripped it open. When you slipped inside, zipped it up, and went crab-walking backward like a panic-stricken animal, you hardly saw much of anything else.

Had your pulse not been pounding in your ears and your gaze not glued to the front of the tent, you likely would’ve gotten a pretty good laugh at the sight behind you.

At the very least, a chuckle or a smile or a slightly sheepish blush would’ve been supplied in a second, seeing someone wide-eyed and holding his cock in a death grip just inches from your rear.

You’d unwittingly scrambled into the tent of a man who’d just been beating his dick off furiously to the thought of you—and there you were, sitting pretty in pure, unadulterated fear for the sight of your fiancé any second now. When you turned your head, your hand flew to your mouth.

“Dar— oh!”

Like before, your heads snapped in the direction of a new sound, quick to sense that it was Shane, and this time, you went crawling over to the archer without a second thought. Hardly noticing his pants were down, you leapt into his lap.

“Y/N—” Shane hissed as he tripped over something outside. You heard a clatter and a bang, the sound of a few curse words sputtered in vain, and a groan. Daryl’s arms snaked around your sides and pulled you closer.

“What’ve ya gone and done this time?” he whispered.

“Told him no,” you murmured back.

You pretended not to feel the singe of Daryl’s gaze boring straight through the side of your head. Then a little lower, to your near-bare lower half and shaking legs. It didn’t take long for him to piece together what had happened.

“Y/N,” Daryl started, far louder than you could bear. You shushed him swiftly, ignoring the flare of anger in his eyes that told you he was currently conjuring up fifty different ways to kill Shane and just aching to act on it.

“Don’t. Please,” you said.

“Did he—”

“No. I...kneed him in the balls before he got the chance.”

“Oh.”

Shane was pacing outside, like he knew you were somewhere close. He called your name every now and then, drew near enough to send you rigid with fear. Then Daryl would hold you tight, stroke your hair, or else just graze his lips on your shoulder to let you know he was there, and eventually, the fright would subside. You nestled yourself into that touch and felt something far kinder than fear for the first time in a long time.

You felt aroused.

Ever more inspired by the sound of Shane stewing, fuming outside within earshot and the nudge of Daryl’s member against your barely-clothed core. Well…you were tempted, to say the least. You just weren’t sure if Daryl would be on board for being your lightning-quick rebound fuck of the night.

You sighed as his hips moved gently against your own.

“You think maybe—” you started.

“Yeah?”

“—you might…tell me what you were doing before I barged in here?”

Even in the dark, you could sense a blush creeping up his neck. You loved to see a man like Daryl flustered.

“Oh, uh, that?” he said in half a chuckle. Glancing down at his groin and going back and forth between two thoughts in his mind, most likely. Tell you the truth or come up with a half-assed lie on the spot.

“Just…jerking off to you.”

He never had been any good at a bluff.

Your face visibly brightened in the dim glow of the tent. You tried not to let your elation get too far ahead of you, though, lest your voice raise above a whisper and draw Shane’s attention.

“Yeah? What about?”

Daryl never thought it possible for a woman’s enthusiasm in a question to turn him on, but yours did. He looked to your lips and swallowed, suddenly at a loss for how to answer.

“I…well…”

“You’re fucking dead to me, Y/N. If you don’t—”

Your fiancé’s voice was as close, and as terrifying, as it had ever been. You eased Daryl onto his back.

“Were you thinking of this?” you teased.

You made that soft semi-circular motion with your hips and watched a brand new face contort with pleasure. The footsteps outside hardly registered in your mind any longer, as your attention was singly focused on Daryl.

He fought a groan in his throat as you grazed your slick heat over his length.

You coated him with your arousal quicker than even you had expected. You knew you were turned on, but never had it been like that, where you were damn near dripping sweet nectar all over a man’s cock. You let a little whine leave your lips.

You couldn’t help it; your cunt rocked back and forth over Daryl’s fat, throbbing cock and made obscene sounds as you did. The archer’s hands found your hips and gently guided you up and down as his own moans struggled to break loose.

You could’ve stayed like that forever, you figured—if you hadn’t been so fucking wet that the head of his cock slipped inside of your heat the second you and Daryl bucked your hips together. An inch was quick to stretch to seven before you could think or blink or do anything else but groan in pleasure, and suddenly, he was bottoming out inside you.

“Fuck!” Daryl hissed.

“Daryl!”

“Daryl?”

Fucking Shane, of all voices you didn’t want to hear in that moment. Fortunately, he’d heard Daryl’s voice alone and not the sound of your moan, calling his name at the same time, for entirely different reasons, it seemed.

Daryl gritted his teeth as you bounced on his cock,

“Yeah?”

“I’m looking for Y/N. You seen her, brother?”

Seen you, felt you, fucked you, yeah—he had.

Daryl closed his eyes and tried not to blow his load on the spot as you squeezed around him.

“No— no, I haven’t. Not since earlier,” he grunted.

“You sure?” Shane pressed, dissatisfied, “I heard her running around this way.”

You braced your knees against the ground and rode the man beneath you even harder, taking every ounce of resentment you felt toward Shane out on Daryl’s cock. Fuck if revenge sex didn’t feel nice when the object of your ire was standing right outside the tent.

You almost wanted to moan, wanted to whimper, but were quick to think better of it the longer you spent moving up and down his length. Seeing shades of lust in his eyes like never before, you just couldn’t bear the thought of having to pry yourself off any time soon.

Daryl sank his fingers into your thighs and sighed, leaving ten perfect crescents in their wake.

“Don’t you fuckin’ stop,” he murmured.

“Could ya— could you come outside and help me look?”

‘Come the fuck on’ seemed to be the silent, shared sentiment between you and Daryl as your bodies writhed fast against each other and your highs came close into view. You braced your hands against his chest and begged him not to answer with your eyes, but you also knew Daryl couldn’t not say something to him, either.

“I…I’m sure she’s fine.” Daryl tried, weakly.

He flipped you over so you were flat on your back, hands careful not to make much noise or cause you discomfort as he did. Cock never leaving your wet, greedy hole, he found it easier than ever to resume the pace you’d made above him—now pounding you quietly into his sleeping pad.

You gripped his back and, simultaneously, bit down on his shoulder to keep from letting out a shriek when he grazed a particularly sensitive spot inside you. Tried not to whine when he hit it again. And again. And again.

Shane was growing impatient. Hovered close to the front of the tent so you could see the outline of his shadow.

“You got something better to do, Dixon?” he snapped.

Yeah, fuck your fiancée, Daryl thought with a smirk. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him even deeper.

That light, airy feeling preceding ecstasy was close at hand. You wanted to give in—let the levee break and just relish the sweet sensation quick to follow—but you knew you couldn’t. Knew yourself too well to be a screamer not to hold on a little longer, until Shane had left.

But the way Daryl’s cock was pumping in and out of you at present made it hard, to say the least.

“Just…tired, ‘s’all,” Daryl groaned close to your ear.

“Tired from what?!” Shane jeered, “Wrist been hurtin’ from how hard you’ve been jerkin’ it to Y/N, huh?”

You almost burst out laughing. Daryl quickly cupped your mouth. Fucked you harder to shut you up.

And shut up you did; but not for long, you feared. The faster he pounded you, the more that coil in your stomach came to swell, and soon enough you might—

“Eat shit, Walsh.”

“Just help me out. Please.”

Daryl shook his head and fucked you harder, much to your chagrin. You didn’t want him to stop, but you needed him to, in truth, or that swollen thing inside of you just might get the better of you and burst. You pressed your hands to his chest and tried to whimper something softly, but Daryl just hushed you with his hand to your mouth and kept on at that breakneck pace. Your eyes rolled back, your legs started to shake, and if Daryl hadn’t had to tear his attention away to say something to Shane, he might have seen how close you were to blowing your cover…before it was too late.

With one more stroke inside your wet, sensitive hole, you felt a cord inside you snap and a flurry of wild, unbridled bliss take over, stronger than you’d felt in ages.

A shriek desperate to escape your throat, your teeth raked down Daryl’s flesh with the force of it, and, instinctively, the man yanked his hand away and yelped.

You hated to do it, but the feeling was just too good. Your lips parted to release one of the most lewd and obscene sex screams of your life—with Daryl’s name following over and over as you came.

Daryl’s eyes grew to half the size of his face, it seemed. Stilling inside you, feeling your sweet, hot juices flow down him in waves, he sat there and couldn’t quite decide if he was more turned on or terrified.

When Shane tore through the fabric of the tent and charged inside, he figured it out pretty quickly, though.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon one shot #daryl dixon imagine #daryl x reader #the walking dead #twd daryl #twd fanfiction #twd imagine #smut #shane walsh #shane walsh smut

[feral4daryl]

ughhhhh daryl dixon in sleeveless shirts!!! it makes his big biceps look so fucking good 🥵🥵 he could punch me in the face and i would say thank you daddy

#daryl dixon #norman reedus #the walking dead #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon twd #norman reedus smut #daddy dixon #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl twd #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl imagines #daryl drabbles #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl dixon one shot #daryl x reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl smut #daryl dixon wallpaper #daryl dixon x you #norman reedus x you #norman reedus x reader #daryl x you #daryl oneshot #daryl fluff #daryl dixon fluff

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 9,640 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Pre-apocalypse Warnings: Language, alcohol use by adults, references to drug use (no specifics), violence (no details) A/N: This is a special request for @winchestershiresauce <3 Summary: Based on watching your interactions, Daryl thinks you, a bartender at a local dive, may actually have a thing for his older brother Merle, but a series of events at the bar may begin to show him otherwise

“Get the fuck out! And if you come back, it isn’t going to be your drink hitting the fucking floor!” you yelled after the man who had burst through the exit and was now hurriedly stumbling his way across the parking lot and on to who knows where. You sighed and slung the bat up over your shoulder, catching the door with the palm of your hand as it swung back toward you. Behind you, the bar’s regulars were watching with amusement as you shook your head, clouds on your countenance. That guy had grabbed his last ass under your watch…

“I see we’re off to a helluva start tonight,” drawled a familiar voice to your left. “Need any help, darlin’?”

You looked up to see the Dixon brothers climbing off their bikes. Merle was the one who’d spoken. Daryl hardly ever said anything beyond his drink or food order and even now he seemed to be busy fiddling with something in his saddlebag, though you noticed him looking over his shoulder in the direction that man had just stumbled off.

“Merle Dixon,” you greeted him. “Are you going to behave tonight or do I need to keep my bat handy?” you joked, pinning a smile on your face as he wandered toward you.

“You know me, sweet thing,” Merle said. “You can’t get anythin’ as good as this without a heap of trouble mixed in.” He grinned widely at you.

“Alright,” you laughed. “You better come in and sit down. Would a beer at least bribe you off starting shit for a little while?”

“Might be a start. But I think you could find some better ways to keep me occupied. And it’d put you in the best damn mood of yer life,” he flirted. Merle was incorrigible. He held the door as you stepped back inside with a light laugh.

“Uh huh, I’m sure, Mr. Casanova.” He followed you up to the counter where you stowed your bat on a low shelf. Hopefully that would be the only time you needed to wield it for the rest of the evening…

Daryl was a few strides behind his brother but he too sunk down on a bar stool that had a small tear in the shiny green vinyl. He laced his fingers together on the bar top and cracked his knuckles. You always found it hard to get a read on him and his fiddling hands. Was it anxiety? Was he just one of those people constantly filled with the urgent need to move? You couldn’t tell. You gave him a smile and his bright blue eyes immediately dropped down to the countertop. That was typical too. The man was a smokescreen.

“What can I get you two? The usual?” you asked, already reaching for the glasses.

“Yeah, but gimme a burger and fries with that, would you, baby?” Merle said, flashing you what he clearly thought was his most charming smile.

“Same here,” Daryl drawled too, glancing up briefly. “Please.”

“Comin’ right up,” you said sweetly. You filled too large beers from the tap and put them down in front of the brothers and then went to drop the order ticket for the cook in the back.

One of the waitresses, a young brunette named Bobbi met you at the window looking a little harried. She slid an empty tray through and caught your eyes. “Thanks for throwing that guy out,” she said softly. She was the one he’d been harassing.

“Don’t even mention it. That guy was a scumbag. Are you okay?”

Her cheeks reddened a little but she nodded.

“If anybody gives you even a hint of trouble tonight, you come tell me straightaway, okay? Are you good to keep working? Do you need a break?” You were always protective of the waitresses, knowing well how quickly things could get out of hand with a bunch of drunk, testosterone-soaked idiots.

“No, no. I’m okay. Thanks. Thanks a lot, Y/N. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you looking out for all of us.”

She was still relatively new which made you feel even more protective of her, and you nodded. “We get a rough crowd in here, but there’s a line. That asshole crossed it.” You gave her another reassuring smile.

She noticed the Dixons up at the bar. “I see your admirer is back,” Bobbi said, nodding toward them.

You followed her gaze and laughed. “Oh, yeah. Merle Dixon. That’s his brother, Daryl, next to him.” You shook your head a little. “I’ll have my hands full in a couple hours once Merle’s good and boozed up. Just wait. I better get back.” You gave her shoulder a friendly squeeze as you slipped past her and slid behind the bar again. A few patrons were waiting for drinks and you hastily arranged glass pint glasses underneath the velvety stream of amber liquid and buzzing foam.

It wasn’t long before the Dixons’ food order was ready and you were setting warm plates down in front of them. The burgers were greasy and always overcooked, but the fries were surprisingly good. “Anything else I can get you boys?” you asked, grabbing Merle’s already empty glass and placing a few paper napkins on the counter.

Merle gave you a sly look. “I got a few things on my mind that I’d like from ya,” he said.

You reached across the counter and took one of his fries, dipping it casually into his ketchup and taking a few slow bites. “I’m sure,” you said cocking an eyebrow. You wiped your hands on a towel and straightened up. “But I meant from the menu,” you said, shooting him a look.

Daryl was watching the interaction surprisingly intently, his blue eyes darting between his older brother and you. Part of him wished for just a tiny bit of the bravado that Merle never had in short supply. There was something about you that always made his heart quicken—some combination of your take-no-shit attitude and the kindness you still seemed to possess that went right along with it. But he could rarely seem to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth.

“I can’t order off-menu? Why the hell am I here then?” Merle laughed.

“For the views,” you quipped, winking at him as you dried a glass. You moved down to the other end of the bar to assist another patron and Merle and Daryl’s eyes followed you.

Merle let out a low whistle. “She ain’t wrong about that, is she, little brother?” Merle said, thumping Daryl hard on the back before taking a huge bite of his burger. Daryl redirected his eyes away from you and back to his own plate, not saying anything. “Think it’s about time I followed up on all this talk with some action for that girl,” he laughed, dragging some fries through his ketchup.

“Be the first time you followed up on a damn thing,” Daryl snarked, unsure of what exactly came over him at that moment.

“What’d you say to me, boy?” Merle snapped, puffing out his chest. “Say it again!” he growled.

“Nothin’,” Daryl said, picking at his meal. “Forget it.”

“That’s what I thought,” Merle growled. “You ain’t even man enough to say more than two damn words to a woman. Sit here and talk shit to me…” He took another huge bite of his meal.

Daryl let it drop. It wasn’t worth it. Merle could flip a switch from silver-tongued schmoozer to rabid dog in an instant and everyone around would suffer, including you, and that was the last thing he wanted.

Business in the bar was steady well past the dinner hour. The Dixon brothers were still up at the counter. Daryl was only a few beers in but Merle had been putting them away. It was getting nearly time to cut him off from any more alcohol when things turned bad with the simple sound of the entrance door swinging open.

As usual, all the regulars looked at the new arrivals and before you even knew what happened Merle was on his feet and lunging at one of the men. He had his hands around the guy’s throat in an instant.

“Merle!” you yelled after him. Your voice was drowned out in what was immediately a full-on melee between the Dixon brothers, several other regulars, and the newcomers. “Shit,” you swore, reaching for your bat. You rushed around the counter and grabbed Bobbi by the shoulder. “Get the other girls and go into the kitchen!” you yelled over the brawling. You were still rushing toward the fight and she gave you a terrified glance. “And send that lazy ass cook out here! Go!”

Brandishing your bat, you started toward the fight with your heart pounding. You pulled the plug on the jukebox and the loud rock music stopped. You slammed your bat down on the nearest table top right about the time the cook, a skinny white guy named Mike, skidded to a stop beside you, gripping a length of metal pipe in his hand. He was staring slack-jawed at the mob of men throwing fists and shoving each other around.

The percussive noise of your bat making contact with the table startled the men fighting enough for you to yell over them and be heard. “Take it the fuck outside and off our goddamn property!” you roared, wielding your bat up on your shoulder. “I don’t give a shit if you want to kill each other, but you aren’t doing it here!” The color flared in your cheeks.

More jostling and raised voices again, but it spilled out into the parking lot and you heaved a small sigh of relief. A few of the regulars had fallen back, apparently thinking better of brawling and simply returning to their beers, but not without a good many welts on their knuckles and faces.

“Fucking morons,” you muttered under your breath.

When you returned to the bar counter, you were surprised to see that there was a generous stack of cash left for you on top of the Dixons’ bill. The wrinkled bills were far more than was needed to cover the food and beer. The tip was sizable, and you needed it.

You sighed and pushed a hand back through your hair as you fingered the stack of bills, your bat rolling a little back and forth on the dark oak counter. “Fucking Merle…” you muttered again, rolling your eyes. You put the correct amount into the register and tucked the rest into your waistband.

Mike was in the kitchen again cleaning up and the waitresses had filed back out once the coast was clear. It was nearing closing time and you began your final chores. Bobbi started wiping down the tables and putting up the stools and chairs as the patrons filed out, many on unsteady legs.

It wasn’t long after you’d rushed the brawl outside that you heard sirens distantly approaching. You rolled your eyes. Bobbi looked concerned and you drifted over to her, a rag in hand. “Don’t worry about it,” you said. “Not our problem.”

“What the hell happened?” she asked you. “I looked up and suddenly there was just a mob there by the door!”

You said goodbye to the last man out and locked the front door behind him. “If I had to guess I’d say it was a rival MC situation.”

“MC?”

“Motorcycle club,” you explained. You paused thoughtfully. “Or drugs. Could’ve been drug-related. You never know out here. These guys find the dumbest reasons to have beef with each other.” She looked concerned and it drew a dry laugh from you. “Rethinking your new gig?”

“Maybe a bit,” she admitted, smiling sheepishly.

“You’ll be used to it in no time… Come on. Let’s walk out the back together. Time to go home.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

“Why the hell ya always gotta pick a goddamn fight?” Daryl growled at Merle. He rubbed at a sore spot on the side of his jaw.

Merle was worse off than Daryl, sporting an eye that was already swelling shut and some split open knuckles, but he was feeling almost nothing with the amount of alcohol (and probably something else too) burning through his veins. He collapsed back on one of the beds in the shitty motel the Dixons were calling home for the week. “Ehh, that guy had it comin’. Sonofabitch owes me money and he’s gonna pay up,” he said carelessly, flinging an arm over his eyes. “‘N I don’t want that jackass in my territory, eyein’ up my girl.” Daryl knew his brother was talking about you and he rolled his eyes at his older brother for what felt like the tenth time that night.

“Yer girl?” Daryl scoffed. “Merle, ya only see her at night when she’s gettin’ paid to bring ya fuckin’ drinks. Yer girl…” he grumbled.

“Ah, you dun know a damn thing about it. Just wait… tomorrow…” he trailed off for a moment, “tomorrow ‘m done with all the talkin’…” Daryl stifled another snarky response. Best not to push his luck with his older brother, even as drunk as he was.

Daryl couldn’t understand what the hell you saw in Merle, but you did certainly seem to take his advances good-naturedly and perhaps even encouraged him. But it made no fuckin’ sense to Daryl; Merle was one of the regulars who caused the most trouble at the bar, and it always ended up sucking Daryl right in too. He felt some sense of responsibility to make sure Merle at least didn’t get killed… Blood was blood. Merle was the only family Daryl had left.

It was hardly 30 seconds after he flopped down that snores were emanating from his brother’s sprawled form. Daryl balled up one of Merle’s shirts that was laying in the middle of the dirty carpet and threw it at him. It landed over Merle’s face and the snores stopped briefly before resuming even more loudly.

“Fuck,” Daryl muttered, flopping down still fully-clothed on his bed, hugging the pillow. He had a feeling sleep would be hard to come by.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Your shift the next day started later in the evening and by the time you came in, the bar was already crowded. You knew within moments, too, that Merle was in rare form—already drunk and laying on the charm thick through slurred sentences.

Things were going fine until a few newcomers stepped in again, all of them wearing cuts that belonged to an MC you’d never seen before. Merle spun on his stool and glared. You could see his mind turning quickly even as soaked in liquor as it was.

“Hey—” you said, leaning over the counter and snapping your fingers in front of Merle’s face to break his scowl. “Eyes on me, tiger. You better not start shit in my bar two nights in a row or I’ll stop being so happy to see you coming around.” You hoped you could warn him off and prevent another night of chaos. There was probably a 50/50 chance of it working.

He grinned at you toothily. “Oh, that just ain’t possible, darlin’. We both know I’m yer favorite.”

“If you keep pickin’ fights and runnin’ off my customers you won’t be anymore,” you said, giving him a warning look.

He shot another glare over at the men in the corner booth but waved a hand and returned to his whiskey. “Ah, they ain’t worth my damn time anyhow.”

The man was unpredictable. Maybe he was just too drunk to be bothered. You breathed a sigh of relief and hazarded a glance at Daryl. You wondered if you needed to worry about him… As soon as you caught his eyes, which were strikingly blue, he stared back down into his beer. Hmm. Probably not? Now that you thought of it, Merle was always the one causing the violence… You couldn’t think of a single instance where Daryl had sparked a brawl. Sure, he went in after his older brother but so did the rest of the fucking bar. You couldn’t really blame him for that.

You straightened up. “You two alright? I’ll be back in a minute.” You grabbed the nearest server. “Watch the bar for me real quick?” They nodded and you hurried to the staff bathroom. You adjusted your clothes and checked your hair and makeup in the mirror before heading back out and down the hall toward the counter again.

And there was Merle standing at the end of the hallway, leaned up against the outdated wood paneling with his arms crossed, clearly waiting for you. He had a smug smile fixed on his face and you cocked your head slightly as you approached. “You waitin’ for little ol’ me?” you asked, flashing him a charming smile. “That drink empty already?” His tall frame was blocking most of the hall and you felt a bit of a nervous jitter in your stomach as you stopped in front of him. He was an intimidating figure.

“Actually, doll, I was waitin’ for little you,” Merle drawled. “I was thinkin’—how ‘bout I stick around after closin’ tonight and you and I can—get to know each other better…” A sly smile crept onto his face.

You tried to keep the smile fixed on yours. You were propositioned by some cocky drunk damn near every day, and sure, Merle flirted with you shamelessly, but this seemed more serious than a drunken pass. You tried to think fast about how to put him off. “I’ll be dead on my feet at closin’ time. You know ya’ll are a handful! Besides, is that really your best idea for a first date? Here? Where I work? Come on now, Merle. You need to be a little more creative than that,” you teased him. You still couldn’t get around him and back to the counter.

Daryl was watching everything from the bar top and he was soon on his feet, trying to figure out just what the hell Merle was doing blocking you in the hallway.

“Anywhere with me is a wild ride, sweetheart,” Merle replied with a wink.

Shit. He was not taking the hint. Damned liquid courage. “Well, you sure do know how to make a girl blush, even a hardened, cynical bartender like myself,” you said with a coquettish laugh. Your eyes raced to the narrow gap next to him. Could you just squeeze by? Right as you were wondering this, Daryl appeared over Merle’s shoulder.

“Hey!” he said, nudging Merle hard in the back of the shoulder. “The fuck are ya doin’? Let her by! My goddamn beer is empty,” he said, wiggling the empty bottle at his older brother.

Merle frowned, but straightened up and stepped aside. You brushed past Daryl, and as you did, you caught his eyes. There was something knowing and meaningful in that glance. He hadn’t interrupted because he needed another beer… In fact, you had no idea that Daryl had leaned over the bar and poured the rest of it down the drain before intervening.

You gulped and slipped back behind the bar as Daryl and Merle sank down on their preferred bar stools again. You slid another beer over to Daryl and caught his eyes when Merle was craning his neck to see who had just come in. “This one is on the house,” you murmured to him.

He only gave you a stiff nod and then went back to shredding the little cocktail napkin into a littering of paper snow in front of him.

Much later, it was nearly closing time and you’d stepped out back briefly to catch some fresh air. The night breeze felt heavenly after being in the suffocating din of drunken conversation and stifled by the tangy smell of beer all night.

The door next to you suddenly swung open and you straightened up from where you’d been leaning against the wall, surprised to see the younger Dixon brother stepping out. He fished a hand into his pocket for his lighter and quickly lit the cigarette dangling from between his lips. A puff of smoke drifted lazily upwards toward the velvety blackness.

You shifted, hugging your arms around yourself, a little uncomfortable being alone with him. He was, after all, a complete stranger and based on the behavior of his brother you didn’t really know what to think about him… There seemed to be a bubble in your throat and it was uncomfortable. You held off as long as you could before clearing it, knowing the noise would draw attention to you again.

Daryl gave you a sideways glance and you stared straight ahead, subconsciously pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth and chewing on it a little anxiously.

He looked back down toward his boots and tapped the ash from the end of his cigarette. His free hand scratched absently at a non-existent itch on the back of his head. Then, he was glancing at you again. “Hey, uhh— ‘m sorry ‘bout Merle…”

You looked over at him and met his eyes, surprised. Oh. Maybe he wasn’t like his brother…

“He can be a real fuckin’ asshole sometimes, always startin’ fights and shit,” he drawled, glancing back out over the dim back parking lot. “And blockin’ yer way like that earlier,” he shook his head and his face contracted into a scowl. “He was way outta line.”

You nodded. “Thanks… by the way. For the save back there.”

Daryl nodded and gazed down at his boots again as they shuffled in the gravel. “He’s my brother but—” he sighed heavily, shaking his head again, “—I dunno…” he trailed off. “Sometimes I think maybe I’d be better off not hangin’ ‘round him at all.”

You watched him curiously as he took another drag on his cigarette and blew the smoke up toward the starry night sky again. “He certainly doesn’t seem to mind conflict,” you said.

“Yeah…” Daryl mused. The silence stretched between the two of you for a minute or so and then you both turned at the sound of approaching tires on gravel.

Great. You recognized the car immediately. It belonged to the owner of the bar, who also happened to be your manager. You had to stifle groaning out loud. Daryl’s eyes followed the red sport car as it did a loop in the parking lot and stopped abruptly beside the two of you near the back door. The passenger side window rolled down.

Daryl watched curiously as you stepped forward slightly. The guy behind the wheel rubbed him the wrong way immediately with how he spoke to you.

“The bar empty or somethin’? What the hell are you doin’ out here? And who the hell is this, yer boyfriend?” he demanded, looking between you and Daryl. Daryl felt his face flush involuntarily at the implication.

“I’m on my break. Bobbi’s watching the bar,” you said, struggling to keep the distaste out of your tone. “He’s a customer smoking a cigarette. What’s the problem?” you retorted.

“Yeah, yeah, sure he is…” the guy said dismissively. Your fists clenched involuntarily. “Listen, I need you to be here at nine tomorrow,” he said.

“Nine? I’m closing tonight and then you want me back here at nine in the morning? The bar doesn’t even open until two. And isn’t Mark supposed to open?”

“I said nine, didn’t I?” he snapped. “There’s a delivery coming in and I’ve got a full schedule tomorrow. I need you to be here to sign for it and then move the merchandise into the storage room. And don’t forget to restock up top. Jesus, you’d think I don’t pay you or something…”

You hastily tucked your hair behind your ear, a somewhat nervous habit. “Well, can’t Mark do it? I’m probably not going to be out of here until 3 am tonight with cleaning and then—”

“If I wanted Mark to do it, I’d ask Mark. I’m asking you!” he snapped.

You bit down on your cheek hard. “Fine. Fine… I’ll be here at nine.”

“Good,” the guy said gripping the steering wheel again. “Was that so hard?” His tone was plainly patronizing and Daryl felt his blood heating up just listening to him. The next moment his window was rolling up and he was speeding away with a spray of gravel that nearly hit you.

You stepped back, swearing a little under your breath, and turned back toward the door. “Full schedule?” you repeated, glancing over your shoulder and watching the taillights of the car disappear around the corner. “Dick…” you muttered.

“Mmm,” Daryl hummed, shifting. “What could he possibly have goin’ on? Hair plug appointment?” he drawled.

You laughed. You actually laughed. And Daryl’s heart jumped a little at the sound for some reason. Maybe it was the way your face and eyes lit up. “Safe bet. Well, I better get back,” you said, reaching for the door handle.

“Guy’s a douchebag,” Daryl said, dropping his cigarette and grinding it out beneath a boot.

You looked back at him over your shoulder. “Yeah. Lot of that going around this place at the moment. You’re a breath of fresh air,” you said, shooting him a small smile. “Night, Daryl.”

He simply nodded and watched you slip back inside, trying to ignore how that smile you’d shot him had felt like a shot of bourbon, warming him up from the inside, leaving a satisfying burn all the way to his core.

_ _ _ _ _ _

“The hell ya think yer goin’ this damn early?” Merle growled, apparently awoken by Daryl moving around the room.

Daryl pulled his jacket on and glanced over. “Dun worry ‘bout it,” he drawled.

“Hey—pick me up some damn breakfast on yer way back,” he murmured, rolling over again. “Make yerself fuckin’ useful for once.”

Daryl shook his head and headed for the door. “Dunno when I’ll be back. Get yer own damn breakfast. Hey—way to follow through with Y/N at the bar last night, too,” he said, unable to resist getting in a dig.

Merle sat up and squinted unhappily at him. “Ain’t my fault you fuckin’ interrupted!” Judging from the slur in Merle’s words, he was still half-drunk.

“Yeah, that was the problem. Me interruptin’. Not that she is so far outta yer league—” Daryl had to duck out the door and pull it closed behind him in a hurry. The sound of Merle’s cup splashing and clattering against the door punctuated his exit. He’d probably pay for that later but at the moment it felt worth it…

Across town, you were waiting for the delivery truck to arrive at the bar, sunglasses on and a giant coffee in one hand. You were exhausted. You’d barely managed any sleep by the time you’d gotten home and showered the smell of beer and cigarettes off yourself… You were just signing the clipboard for the delivery driver and eyeing the enormous pallet of product you were going to have to somehow muster the energy to haul inside when the drone of a motorcycle and a cloud of approaching dust caught your attention. “Thanks,” you said vaguely, handing the clipboard back to the driver, squinting into the much too bright sun to see who was pulling in on a motorcycle this time of day. To your surprise, it was Daryl Dixon.

He pulled up close to the building and climbed off, adjusting his leather jacket and ducking his head as he walked over. You eyed him with confusion and curiosity as he walked through the cloud of dust left by the huge delivery truck. “You’re a bit early. Like, 5 hours early,” you said, taking a long sip of your coffee. “Bar doesn’t open until two.”

Daryl watched the delivery truck drive away in a cloud of dust and then eyed the pallet stacked with boxes of beer and liquor bottles. “Ya think that’s why ‘m here? For a drink at nine in the mornin’?” he drawled.

You lifted your sunglasses and met his eyes. In the brightness of the morning sun they looked like tropical pools. You felt some stirring in the center of your chest. You didn’t think you’d ever really looked at him before… “I don’t know why you’re here,” you said truthfully.

Daryl shuffled his feet in the gravel. “Because your manager is a dick,” he said.

You laughed with some surprise and nodded. “True.”

Daryl glanced again at the pallet. “He really expects ya to move all this inside on yer own?” he asked, somewhat incredulous.

“I mean, we have a dolly but—yeah. He’s an ass.”

Daryl started to pull off his leather jacket, ready to help, and shook his head. “Those better be some damn good hair plugs he’s gettin’,” he drawled.

It drew another laugh from you and his heart jumped in his chest. “You showed up here just to help me with this?” you asked, disbelieving. “Why would you do that? You don’t work here. I don’t understand,” you mused aloud.

He ducked his head, shrugging and shuffling his boots in the gravel a little. “Ain’t got anythin’ better to do…” he drawled softly. “And it’ll get me away from Merle for a bit.” He hazarded a nervous glance back up at you. You were staring at him inquisitively.

At length, you shook your head, still in disbelief as to why he’d volunteer for such a shit job. “That makes no sense to me, but whatever you say,” you laughed. “Lemme just grab the dolly from inside,” you said. Daryl watched you disappear through the doorway and couldn’t help but notice the curve of your hips and the way they gently swayed when you walked. His body responded with what felt like an internal lightning bolt of electricity that was impossible to ignore. He gulped and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. Uh oh.

In under an hour, you and Daryl were both around the bar counter inside with big glasses of ice water in front of you, thoroughly sweaty and rosy-cheeked. The task was thankfully completed.

“I wish there was some way for me to pay you for your help. It would have taken me probably three times as long on my own,” you said, looking across the bar-top at him. He shook his hair from his eyes and shrugged. God, your expression was soft. If you kept looking at him like that he didn’t know what would happen…

“S’nothin’,” he drawled, a little abashed suddenly.

“No. You were a huge help. I’m so grateful, Daryl.” Shit, he liked how it sounded when you said his name. He wished you’d say it with every damn sentence. Uh oh. Again. Was he seriously catching feelings? He hardly knew you… “I’m running on hardly any sleep and I was about ready to quit before I even started when you walked up,” you insisted.

Daryl simply took another deep drink from his glass.

“Hey—at least let me make you some breakfast,” you said earnestly, straightening up. “Nobody will notice if I pilfer a few ingredients from the kitchen and I do make a mean breakfast sandwich.”

Daryl was hungry. He hadn’t eaten anything… He nodded. “Alrigh’. Sounds good,” he agreed.

In no time you had whipped up two egg sandwiches on sourdough with bacon and cheese along with home fries. You slid a warm plate across to Daryl and gave him a smile. “Bon appetit!”

He dug in unabashedly. “Mm,” he hummed, his mouth full of potatoes. “S’really good. Thanks.”

“It’s literally the least I could do,” you said. You smiled a little to yourself at the way he ate, eagerly and appreciatively. “So, are you and your brother from around here?”

Daryl wiped his mouth on his sleeve and took another big gulp of water. “From not too far,” he said.

You nodded and waited, expecting him to elaborate, but he didn’t. Instead of pressing him further, you decided to just enjoy the somewhat goofy sight of him enjoying the food. He finally seemed to realize you were watching him and his blue eyes glanced up. He cleared his throat and shifted on his stool. “Uhh, are ya from ‘round here?”

You laughed lightly. “It’s okay, Daryl. You don’t need to feel obligated to make small talk with me. I won’t be offended.”

“No, it ain’t that I—uhh… I just ain’t good at small talk,” he murmured, looked somewhat abashed. He had finished his food and hastily wiped at his mouth with the napkin, suddenly worried he was a mess.

You shrugged. “I think you’re doing fine,” you offered with a smile.

He let out a dry laugh and nodded. “Sure. Whatever you say,” he drawled. “So, what’s with yer manager anyway? Guy seems worthless. I dun think I’ve ever even seen him in here. Does he ever work?”

You rolled your eyes and sighing. “No… he doesn’t. And he basically is worthless. He owns the place but me, the other bartender Mark, and the kitchen staff pretty much take care of everything, but he gets all the nice profits. I think the last time I’ve even seen him inside the building was when the cops busted up a drug ring,” you said wryly.

“Mmm,” Daryl hummed, nodding. “I think I kinda remember that. Was about a year ago?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Was Merle implicated in that?” you laughed.

Daryl let out an amused scoff, more of a breath than anything. “Prob’ly shoulda been if he wasn’t. Who the fuck knows…” he trailed off. The silence suddenly felt thick between the two of you and Daryl found himself nervous. He cleared his throat a little anxiously and stood up. “Well… I should get goin’. Let ya get outta here at least a bit before ya gotta work later, righ’?”

You nodded. “Unfortunately,” you sighed.

Daryl nodded. “Hope ya can get some rest before then. I bet the regular crowd in here is a real bitch to deal with on no sleep.”

“Since you helped me finish that stocking and stuff earlier than I would have on my own, I just might have time for some sleep before my shift. Thanks again,” you said, giving him a warm smile.

“No problem,” he murmured ducking his head. “Thanks for the breakfast. Was really fuckin’ good. Maybe ya should open up some place for brunch,” he joked.

You laughed, brimming with light, and Daryl was realizing that—oh shit—he definitely had some like feelings for you. Where the hell did this come from? And when did they start? Had it been this way all along? His heart skipped a beat at the sound of your laugh. His palms felt sweaty when your eyes met his. “Not a bad idea,” you said with a smile. You wiped off the bar absently. “Well, I’ll see you later, Daryl.”

“Yeah. Later,” he managed. He turned and walked out, and you found yourself watching his broad shoulders and the wings on his vest until you couldn’t see them anymore.

_ _ _ _ _ _

“Where the hell ya been all day?” Merle growled when Daryl drifted back into the shitty motel room. “I been starvin’! Ya didn’t bring me some damn food? What good are ya? Huh?” He shoved Daryl lightly in the shoulder.

“I ain’t yer errand boy, Merle! Ya got a damn bike. Go get yer own fuckin’ food!” he argued.

“Ah, whatever… ‘Bout time I need a damn drink anyway. Where the hell were ya? Tell me ya scored some more cash. My stash is gettin’ low.”

“No,” Daryl said, pulling off his leather jacket. Merle swore not so under his breath.

“Well? What the fuck were ya doin’? Go somewhere just to jack off?” he asked with a hearty chuckle.

Daryl only glared at his brother and headed for the bathroom, followed by the sound of Merle’s laughter. “Fuck off,” he growled. He slammed the door and started the shower. Something about knowing he was going to see you again later that night put the idea in his head that he should get cleaned up…

_ _ _ _ _ _

“Another whiskey and coke for you,” you said, sliding the drink over to Merle, “and a beer for Daryl,” you added, giving the younger Dixon a wide smile that had him feeling slightly lightheaded. “Can I get you boys anything else?”

“How ‘bout yer home address?” Merle slurred, “so’s I can stop by later tonight? I make house calls and ya won’t ever find a better medicine…”

Your eyebrows lifted. “Merle, the way those words are slurring, I have a hunch you won’t be doin’ anythin’ but passin’ out later,” you teased him. “I think I might have to cut you off after this one.”

He waved a hand at you and pounded half his drink, throwing his head back and nearly slopping some liquid down his front. “Dun worry ‘bout a thing, sweetheart. I can handle my liquor.” This statement was punctuated by him slipping off his stool clumsily and nearly falling to the floor.

You watched, shaking your head, as he meandered over to a group of other bikers standing around the pool table. “Incorrigible, isn’t he?” you said to Daryl.

Daryl shook his head, a regretful look on his face, embarrassed on his brother’s behalf. “He shouldn’t talk to ya like that. ‘M sorry…” he drawled.

You waved it off, your cheeks coloring a little bit from Daryl’s obvious care and concern. He’s definitely different than his brother. “Compared to some of what I get, that was pretty tame.”

Daryl’s brow was still dark. “Hmm,” he hummed, chewing a little on his bottom lip.

You looked up as the door burst open with a bang and a familiar figure stepped in. Daryl followed your gaze and glanced over his shoulder to see a rather large man entering with a swagger that clearly showed he thought he had the run of the place. Daryl’s eyes shot back over to you as you swore under your breath.

“What is it?” he drawled.

You reached for your bat underneath the bar top and Daryl found himself on guard. “He’s not supposed to be in here. I’ve thrown him out too many times so I finally banned him. He’s bad news… He nearly killed someone last time with his bare hands.” Your brow was creased with anxiety.

Daryl could read the worry on your face as you made your way around the bar, bat in hand, and approached the towering man. The younger Dixon stood up, watching carefully, ready to step in if shit seemed like it was about to go the tiniest bit sideways. His eyes landed on Bobbi, the newest waitress. “Hey, go get the cook from the back,” he drawled. She nodded and rushed off to grab Mike. Daryl paced over slowly as you confronted the guy, telling him firmly he needed to leave, your bat perched up on your shoulder.

At first, Daryl thought he was going to refuse. Fists clenched, he was ready to step in and knock the guy out if he needed to—or at least try; the burly man probably had about a hundred pounds on Daryl. To his surprise, the big guy simply fixed a long stare on you and then smiled in a way that turned your stomach. You gulped.

“No problem, sweetheart. I’ll just come back when the time is right,” he said, winking at you. A shiver shot up your back as he turned right around and busted back out into the parking lot. The door slammed closed again with a loud snap.

Your posture was stiff and your expression uneasy. Daryl paced over to stand beside you and you finally glanced at him, though the furrow remained between your brows. You gulped again. “What the hell do you think that meant?” you asked in a low voice.

Daryl sighed and shook his head. “Dunno. But I dun like it. Can’t be anythin’ good.” He glanced back toward the door as if he expected the man to come busting back inside at any moment. “Ya really oughta have security here to keep ya safe,” he mused aloud.

You scoffed. “I’ve told the manager that I don’t even know how many times. He doesn’t give a shit as long as it’s not him being threatened. All he worries about is his damn profit.” You shook your head and headed back behind the bar, replacing your bat in its usual spot. Daryl drifted up to the counter again. He noticed that your eyes kept flicking over to the entrance, almost on their own.

“Hey,” he said softly. Your eyes snapped back to his face. “I’ll hang out tonight at close. Make sure ya get to yer car safely,” he said.

“Oh—Daryl, you don’t have to do that. There will be at least one other waitress here—”

“Dun take this the wrong way, but I dun think any of yer waitresses could take that guy,” he said dryly.

You nodded and let out a wry laugh. “Yeah… and you could?” you asked curiously. Sure, you’d seen him fight in the bar before, going in after Merle, but this guy was huge.

Daryl shrugged and ducked his head a bit shyly. “Dunno. Maybe if I borrow yer bat… but better me than you.”

That stunned you a little bit. Your lips parted slightly and you looked at him with curiosity again. First, he shows up to help you move all that inventory and now he was gonna wait around to make sure you were safe? Who was this Daryl Dixon? You felt as if you were continually seeing him in a new light. “You’d fight that guy for me?” you asked suddenly.

His blue eyes shot up to yours and he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “I ain’t sayin’ I could win…” he drawled.

This pulled a disbelieving laugh from you and you shook your head. “Daryl… I had no idea you were such a knight in shining armor. You might be a little out of place in here with the rest of these degenerates,” you joked.

He ducked his head, shaking it a little. “Nah… ain’t nothin’ like that. Just—ya know… that guy was a fuckin’ creep…”

You smiled at him fondly, leaning slightly forward on the bar top, and he felt a wash of heat spread over him from his chest outwards. “Any chance you can start coming in every night?” you said with a smile. And Daryl couldn’t decide if you really meant it or not, but he allowed himself to daydream that you did.

Daryl stood beside you, later that night, watching as the last waitress got into her car and pulled out of the lot. At some point during the evening, Merle must have wandered out of the bar. The best Daryl could hope was that he’d somehow find his drunken way back to the motel. For now, it was just you and Daryl. He took another drag on his cigarette and blew the smoke up toward the inky black sky.

You glanced over at him for a long moment and then reached up and took the cigarette dangling from between his fingers and tossed it down onto the asphalt. You ground your boot down on it, extinguishing the thin curls of smoke. He looked from the ground back up to your eyes, his brow furrowed. “You should quit those things. They’ll put you in an early grave,” you said, fiddling with your ring of keys.

He let out a noise that was part hum and part huff. “Maybe tha’s the point,” he drawled, his voice a little extra gravelly.

“Oh, come on. I’d miss your handsome face around here too much. Don’t do that to me.” You gave him a small smile that Daryl didn’t feel was forced… His stomach lurched nervously and he ducked his head, nodding. “You’re watching out for me, so consider this me watching out for you,” you said.

He hummed a non-committal noise. You smiled at him. His heart jumped.

“I’m gathering that you’re a man of few words,” you commented, cocking one eyebrow at him.

He shifted his weight a little anxiously. “Maybe ya shoulda asked Merle to stay instead,” he drawled. “He never seems to have a shortage of shit to say…”

You laughed lightly and nodded. “Yeeeeah… that’s definitely true,” you agreed, fiddling with your keys again.

Daryl was giving you a long, thoughtful look and you felt your cheeks flush a little under his gaze. He was handsome… Those blue eyes seemed like they could see right into you. “What?” you prompted him, smiling a little nervously with the way he was staring at you.

He mumbled something and shook his head, turning back to stare at his boots again. The only sound was the chirping of crickets in the long grass at the edge of the parking lot and the distant, somewhat haunting call of a whip-poor-will.

“No! Come on! What is it? I can tell you were thinking something!” you insisted

He shook his head. “I dunno… s’nothin’.”

You crossed your arms and surveyed him. “It was obviously not nothing, Daryl.”

He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, considering you again. “S’just… what’s up with you and Merle anyway?”

You cocked an eyebrow at him and let out a dry laugh. “What do you mean?”

“Well, ya kinda seem like ya encourage him, ya know, but then the other day—” Daryl ducked your gaze again, suddenly running out of courage. This shit wasn’t any of his business anyway. “Never mind. Forget it…”

You suddenly understood and nodded, smiling at him. “Daryl, I’m just doing my job,” you laughed. “And if flirting with Merle gets me a bigger tip, which it usually does, then I can pay my rent more easily. It has nothing to do with me actually wanting to date him.” Daryl’s eyes lifted and met yours again. You nodded as if to say ‘duh’. “Your brother is a routine pain in my ass, in fact,” you finished, cocking an eyebrow up.

There was a queer expression on Daryl’s face and he’d suddenly gone still, an abrupt change from his previous nervous shifting.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re judging me right now,” you said, already getting a little defensive.

“Huh? No! Nah, it ain’t that. It’s just—uhh, never mind,” he said, ducking his head again. “Nothin’.”

“No, tell me! Come on!” you insisted, moving around to stand in front of him.

Daryl shifted uncomfortably and lifted a hand to scratch at a non-existent itch on the back of his head. “S’just… Uhh—Merle dun tip. He’s a real cheap sonofabitch… If he thinks he can get away with not payin’ for somethin’, he will… Ain’t no way he’s leavin’ extra money behind…”

“What? What do you mean? But there’s always—” you stalled out as the realization hit you and you registered what Daryl was saying. Your hand went to the wad of cash in your back pocket, left on the bar that very night. “Oh. Oh, shit… There’s always a big tip, and you hardly ever said a word to me and Merle was always so flirtatious! I just assumed—Oh, shit! I’m sorry, Daryl. I—I didn’t know it was…”

He waved it off, shrugging. “I ain’t tippin’ ya for the recognition.”

You gulped, still feeling awful that you’d made such an incorrect assumption. All this time, it was Daryl leaving you the huge tips on the bar top with their bill. “Then why do you tip me so much?”

He shrugged. “Ya work hard in there and ya put up with a lot of bullshit doin’ it. I dunno—buncha loud, rowdy, drunken bikers and criminals. I mean, how many times have ya had yer ass grabbed?”

“This week or just tonight?” you joked dryly.

He shook his head, but you noted he didn’t look amused. “Exactly,” he drawled. “Ya deserve the big tips. Just dun ask me where I got the money…”

You nodded, giving him a tight-lipped smile. “Deal. And thanks. Thank you… I literally got my car fixed a couple times just with that tip money. It really does make a difference, make my life a little less stressful. So, thank you.”

“Dun mention it,” he said shyly, avoiding your gaze. “And for real, dun mention it to my brother because if he finds out there was more cash he coulda used for drugs and booze, I’ll be in some deep shit,” he said with a small laugh.

“Consider it just between you and me,” you smiled.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl parked his bike in his usual spot, the headlights illuminating Merle slumped back against the door, apparently asleep or otherwise passed out. Daryl rolled his eyes. Merle stirred and shielded his face from the bright headlights of Daryl’s bike and then stumbled clumsily to his feet as the engine shut off.

“Where the fuck’ve you been?” he spat at his younger brother. “Ya got any idea how long I been sittin’ out here waitin’ for yer dumb ass?”

“Waitin’? Where’s yer key, Merle?”

“Hell if I know! Somebody musta taken it off me!”

Daryl rolled his eyes and produced his own room key from his pocket. “Uh huh… somebody stole yer room key… ‘m sure.” Merle shoved him from behind as he was trying to fit the key into the lock. Daryl had to throw out a hand to stop from colliding with the door, and he spun to glare at his older brother. “Stop bein’ a dick!” he barked.

“Well, where the hell ya been anyway?” Merle asked him. “You been disappearin’ a lot this week! Dun tell me ya finally found some girl who’ll look at ya twice.”

Daryl was so sick of his brother’s bullshit that it just burst out of him. “I was with Y/N at the fuckin’ bar! Jesus, shut the fuck up, Merle!”

Merle froze momentarily and then scoffed. “She hardly spares you a glance, boy!” he said, laughing hard.

Daryl pushed into the room and Merle waltzed in behind him, kicking the door shut hard after he crossed the threshold. “You and Y/N? Oh, that’s funny, little brother,” he said smiling toothily.

“Ain’t a joke,” Daryl said, pulling his leather jacket off.

Merle stalled out, seemingly considering Daryl’s words more seriously. “Ya better be lyin’ for your sake,” he said slowly.

“Why?” Daryl snapped, sitting down on the edge of his bed and pulling off his boots. “She ain’t yours. She ain’t nobody’s but herself.”

Merle was suddenly standing over Daryl, his fists clenched. “Ya better be lyin’, boy…” Merle said again.

Daryl glanced up at him. Jealous. Merle was jealous and pissed. Daryl only stared up at him defiantly.

_ _ _ _ _ _

After a couple days off, you were back working an early shift on Tuesday. Business was always slow in the afternoon, but you weren’t complaining. It was nice to have a tame shift after so much turmoil and chaos the previous week. There was one old regular in a back booth, nursing a whiskey and keeping to himself. The jukebox was droning old cowboy country and you were content to sip ice water and flip through a magazine on the bar top.

You glanced up lazily at the creak of the hinges and were surprised to see none other than Daryl Dixon striding in with the sunshine at his back. Alone.

You straightened up, a curious and surprised expression on your face, the magazine already forgotten in front of you.

He gave you a boyish half-smile and wandered over to his usual spot, sinking down on the bar stool. You bit your bottom lip subconsciously and then smiled at him. “I’m a little surprised to see you in so early on a, uhh… Tuesday,” you said. “Not your usual time.”

He shrugged and glanced around. “Damn. Place is really slammed, huh?” he said dryly, one corner of his mouth twitching up. You laughed and grabbed a glass for him.

“Beer?” you offered.

“Sure,” he drawled, tapping a finger a little nervously on the bar top.

You filled his glass and slid it over, then gave him an expectant look.

“What?” he hummed, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

You laughed again and shrugged. “Nothing, I guess… Just wondering why you decided to come in today. Alone.”

Daryl spun the glass in his hands, leaving a little series of condensation rings across a small area of the dark wood. He gulped. He couldn’t answer that question directly. He wasn’t brave enough to say ‘just to see you.’ “Merle was already back at the motel the other night when I got back,” he said.

You decided to let him get away with the seeming topic change. “Oh, good. I was afraid he was passed out in a ditch somewhere.”

“Nah, unfortunately not. And he’d lost his damn key so I had to hear about him waitin’ on me…”

“Ah. So, he wasn’t too happy then.”

Daryl shook his head. “No. And, uhh, he was even more pissed when I—when I told him I’d been with you.” His blue eyes shot up to study your face and he was pleased when you rolled your eyes… Over the last couple days, he’d slingshot-ed between convincing himself he wasn’t imagining some spark of chemistry with you and being absolutely sure he had it all completely wrong. Surely, you’d just been flirting with him the way you’d been flirting with Merle, right?

“I hope he wasn’t too much of an asshole to you,” you said, leaning forward on your forearms.

Daryl shrugged. “Only a little more than usual,” he drawled. He spun the glass in his hands and decided right at that moment, because of the way you were looking at him, to throw all caution into the wind. “When, uhh—when d’ya get off today?”

Your face slowly lit with a smile that nearly staggered Daryl off his stool. “Who wants to know?” you teased him.

He rolled his eyes. “I do…”

“I’m off at six today,” you said, that smile still plastered on your face where you thought it might stay forever if what you thought was happening was actually happening.

“Any chance ya’d wanna, I dunno… go for a ride on my bike or somethin’?” He cleared his throat, nearly vibrating with nerves as he waited for your answer, holding his breath.

One of your eyebrows lifted. “Merle’s not coming, right?” you joked. Daryl let out a gravelly laugh.

“Nah. Promise.”

You grinned at him and then bit your bottom lip again. “Then count me in.”

Daryl ducked his head and stared down into his beer, fluttering excitement in his chest. “Alrigh’. Sounds good.”

“Daryl.”

He looked up at you again, a questioning expression on his handsome face.

You leaned forward onto the bar countertop and grabbed gentle hold of his lapel, giving it a tug until the two of you were mere inches apart. Daryl’s eyes flickered over your face, confusion and disbelief coloring them a darker blue. After a moment, you closed the gap and pressed the soft pillow of your lips to his. He seemed to melt beneath them and in a second was kissing you back.

He had a struck look still on his face when you pulled back. He gulped. “Why’d ya—” he couldn’t get the rest of the question out.

You shrugged, straightening up behind the bar again. “Thought we’d just get that out of the way. Now we can both relax,” you said with a soft smile.

Daryl gulped again and then managed a vague nod. “Is it six yet?” he asked, that sweet drawl of his like warm maple syrup.

You grinned back at him. “I wish.” The end of your shift couldn’t come fast enough.

#daryl dixon one shot #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles

[darylsfavoritegirl]

Can you do a Daryl fic where you fuck and then he says he’s not into labels :( and it makes u sad and comfort

I love this idea !!! lesss goo

A/N: Sorry if these are taking longer than you thought!! im putting myself all in between the breaks i manage to get from school lol. I liked this personally, not sure if i managed to put out a good "comfort" though but there you go anon!

Your eyes flickered at Daryl's scars covering his entire back alongside of his tattoos that looked very much like to having been done by an amateur. You had been wondering their story for a long time now, yet never had the courage to question him vulgarly.

You moved your legs restlessly under the thin sheets, feeling his seeds sticking to your thighs and dripping onto the bed.

He was never at ease with such things. From the very beginning of your "relationship" that is, just warming eachother's bed on these aggravating days of the apocalpyse, where former human beings becoming foes to the geniune humanity. Hence, you always had to wait for him to leave first. There'd be nights so lewd, so scarlet that he'd feel adequate enough to let his guard down now and then. He'd fall next to you on the bed. He'd try to maintain his heaving chest as he'd cover up his downer body with sheets and would just lie down, your bodies so close to eachother, so warm that you'd feel sheltered against his bare skin. And then, he'd bend down to grab his denim jeans and take out the pack of cigarattes you'd looted from a walker's jackets earlier.

At times, there'd be enough to last you a week but at other times there'd be so little amount that you would share one. He would pass a cigaratte to you that he had taken a long drag of. You'd draw the cigaratte to your lips, savoring the tip of the cigaratte he'd moistened with his lips.

But on this specific night, both of you were high on joints. These thoughts entangled your mind as your attention shifted on the flexing muscles on his back while he put on a t-shirt.

You spoke your mind, without giving it a second thought nor being aware of his upcoming run with Glenn and Rick tomorrow early in the morning.

"Why don't you sleep here?" You uttered low, tracing your knuckles across the downy sheet incase he'd turn to face you, you couldn't dare.

"Why, are ya need in company?" He grunted in a headlessness manner as if to drop a joke. You despised how he practically didn't pay any attention to it.

You felt blood rushing to your face. The humid already made it unendurable to stay under the sheet and now this. You took deep, instable breaths.

"No." Your voice was unexpectedly trembling slightly. You shook your head as you scoffed. Now, he was facing you.

"It's just..." You were already in remorse, wishing you hadn't even started this conversation in the first place. You bit the inside of your cheek as you cracked your knuckles out of apprehension.

You felt his piercing gaze sticking upon your forehead, yet you rejected to meet with his gaze until you found something to say that didn't make you look, perhaps, desperate.

"It just gets lonely in this side of the prison." You uttered, finally lifting your head to see him buckling his jeans. You had expressed this countless times in conversations with a different context. Rick had decided to put you in a cellblock away from the others when you first joined them and he didn't change his decision ever since.

"Gon' ask me ta snuggle, too?" He quipped, a subtle sly smirk played on the corner of his lips. He tapped on his pockets as he scanned the small cell for his belongings that he might've dropped.

A sense of indignity overwhelmed you, leaving you feeling overstimulated. You couldn't grumble. He wasn't a boyfriend that owed you courtesy after screwing your brains out. He wasn't someone like that after all. Nonetheless, you loathed at the thought of a huge difference between men and women. How insensitive they could be, how insensitive he could be.

You were very well aware of your relationship, you'd both made it clear to not turn this into anything it wasn't. However, you couldn't resist the longing yearning in your heart.

"Jerk." You simply said as you turned your back to him. You placed your hands under the pillow, resting your head on it. All those thoughts, yet "jerk" was the only thing you made it through your lips. You locked your eyes on the shabby wall, slowly breathing as all you were hearing was his movements behind you. He was so dazed that he couldn't comprehend you nor your course of actions.

"Got'a get sum' shit done in the mornin'." He spoke to himself as he was wearing his leather boots.

"Ya know, with Glenn n' Rick." He added followed by his grunts as he leaned forward to tie his bootlaces.

"The sun shines on this side of the prison, too. You know?" You uttered quietly. Your tone must've caugh his attention as he stopped tying his laces and leaned back on the chair bit by bit. He sighed as he rested his hands on his knees.

"What the hell 's dis all 'bout?" He spoke low with an irritated tone. He scowled at not getting an answer from you.

You wrapped your hands around you, staring at him with softly quaking brows. He stood there with a clenched jaw, eyeing you with squinted eyes.

"Now ya dun' talk?" He spat, chewing his bottom lip as he grabbed his jacket on the bedside table.

"Ya damn well kno' how ta kill a good night." He scoffed derisively, hearing a exasperated sigh from you.

He turned his head to you, giving you a spine-chilling glare.

"Don't ya?" His voice grew taller as you observed the vein throbbing on his neck.

"Keep it down." You exclaimed, shifting your position on the bed in a rush. The bed sank under the weight of your knees as you incompetently tried to cover yourself with the sheets.

His eyes flicked through your bare body for a brief moment as he forced himself to look you in the eyes. You felt subjected to his deviant gaze, a sense of shame flooding your every cell.

"Nah." He firmly uttered.

"Rick threw ya in dis cellblock for a reason." His tone above a whisper.

" 'Cuz ya stir up sum' drama."

"All the damn time."

"Dun' miss a chance, like clockwork."

He locked his eyes on yours. Dark shadows roaming his face. Your face got hot as you had to wait to process his words, what they could've meant.

"Those joints have caused you a mental block." You hissed, not understanding even a bit why he would've say something like that.

"Fuck off." You shrugged your shoulders as you threw your body on the bed, leering at the ceiling.

"It ain't tha'." He uttered, you could sense him leaning against the wall.

"Then what? All this because I asked you to sleep with me?" Your hands met over your chest, crossed. You could hear his shallow breaths, contemplating the best thing to say. You knew he'd fail. A moment passed as neither of you spoke. He took a deep breath

" 'S cuz ya wanna go for childish fantasies." He grunted.

"Like 's sum' kinda game." He spoke, one could sense the palpable thickness of weariness in his voice. It was like he had questioned it a thousand time before you even brought it up. His heavy words lingered in the air, unraveling all the things he never even told you. You could sense it.

"It isn't." You abruptly begged. You needed him to know that you understood his way of seeings things, his way of seeing you. You knew you shouldn't corner him. You didn't.

"Forget it." He huffed with exhaustion as he left the cell.

"Night." You mumbled, knowing he didn't even hear you. You didn't even bother to get up and grab your clothes lying on the floor as you were nothing but flabbergasted. Your eyes were glued to the ceiling, hearing the cicadas singing outside of the prison.

A tear rolled down to your temple and your hand shifted to the side of your face reflexively. You sniffed your nose and shook your head in apace. You got up slowly, sitting on the edge of the bed fully naked. You sticked your eyes to the wall infront of you, fearsome of even uttering a word to yourself in this godforsaken cellblock.

You reached your hand to the panties he threw to the floor as all you could hear was muffled conversations from people on watch. You exhaled, the futile argument which broke out of nonsense didn't support your brain to not grow more lethargic thanks to the joints.

The world around you started to spin, leaving you out of kilter as you had to screw your eyes shut. You wore your bra and as you were done with clasping it, you drank what felt like a gallon of water.

You topped it with a dirty t-shirt and left your body uncovered to the humid of the south on your bed.

What did he think? That you were gonna be just fine with just fucking. How long before you started to feel things, that you wanted more.

You blamed yourself, too soon you thought. Maybe it wasn't. There was no way to know.

You woke up to the sun breaking through your eyelids. You fell asleep to overthinking hence the penetrating headache. You swallowed dryily as you tossed your body to the water bottle next to you and gulped it down agressively to a point where it dripped down your neck to the floor.

You spent your day within the fences of the prison casually, helping people run errands and talking about the run three of the solid men in your group went.

You were in the hall where you kept your food in, cleaning your pistol and weapons so that they're more handy. You furrowed due to your focus on the weapons when you heard a few sighs out of relief drawing near to the hall.

You lifted your head, awating to see who it was with your growing curiousity. Your face loosened at the sight of Daryl and lowered it to your weapons once again, exhaling subtly.

He put his crossbow and poncho on the table, fixating his eyes at you. You wrinkled your forehead, trying to ignore his existence but you were only growing to be distracted even more, with him standing there and observing you.

You suddenly lifted your gaze, exhaling exasperatedly with your hands sagging between your knees. Dirty rags and utensils accumulating a thick layer of dirt on your hands.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a second, sighing dramatically.

"...What?" You huffed, wishing nothing but to be left alone.

" 'M sorry." He muttered under his breath, making it impossible to be heard.

"You're what?" You let out a frustrated growl with his fancy words.

" 'Bout last night." He shrugged his shoulders indifferently, concealing every bit of an emotion peeking on the way.

"What about it?" You forced a downward smirk, trying to seem cool.

"C'mon." He simply said, looking rather bewildered with you. He looked as if he didn't know where to put his hands or what to do with his body.

"Your fine." You huffed, focusing on the weapons.

"I's bein' a dick 's all." He begged, taking a step towards you.

"Yeah you were." You scoffed tauntingly, not looking at his direction. You observed his boots and exhausted steps drawing towards you as you maintained your focus on the dirty rag in your hand.

"Ya kno' I'ma set things right." He was so near you that you had to raise your head to look at him. You were sitting on the frontstep of smaller cellar in the hall, he looked down at you. Your eyes filled with a flamey look as he stayed put.

"Per usual." You forced a sham smile, wishing he'd sense the sarcasm in your tone.

Seeing that he wasn't getting out of the way, you instantly got up as you rolled your eyes. You leered at him.

"Will you please get out of my way?" You hissed, maintaining a stern eye contact like a rock.

He remained silent without blinking.

"Dun' do dis." He mumbled.

You felt heat rising to your head, slowly gritting your teeth.

"So now it's my fault?" You barked between your heaving chest. You digged your nails into your palm, your face getting redder each second.

He remained silent once again as he placed his burly left hand to your waist, burying his forehead on your shoulder. As you were at the brink of pushing his body, hands softly grabbing him by the shoulders.

"A herd nearly took us out today." He breathed against your skin.

Your hand fell loose down his body as your eyes widened and you let out a soft sigh. His hair tickled under your chin as you felt him breathing shallowly against your skin. Your eyes fixated on the entrance gate as you didn't know what to say or do.

You felt your eyes twitching along with your bottom lip as his hot breaths send shivers down your spine, your body flooding with goosebumps.

"Almost got Rick." He added after a few second that felt like a decade.

"I'm sorry. I- I-" You made it out through a shaky voice as he lifted his head, his hand still gripping your waist.

"Ain't yer fault." He slowly ambled toward the table where he left his crossbow on.

"Jus' made me get mah head al' together." He spoke as if there was no one in the hall. He slunged his crossbow on his body and rubbed his face as he let out a frustrated sigh.

"There ain't no reason ta be a damn douchebag." He added, eyeballing you as he placed his hands on his hips.

You were left with thousands of feelings, thoughts lining in your head leaving you stay put like a statue with no form of life whatsoever. Your brows were raised, lip bottom still trembling yet you managed a hold on it. He threw his poncho on his shoulder as he got close to the hall gate.

"Come to my cell tonight." You insisted with soulful, intense eyes right before he left.

You saw him nodding his head discreetly as he chewed on his bottom lip.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon one shot #daryl fanfiction #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead fanfiction #twd daryl #twd imagine #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon walking dead #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon headcanon #daryl dixon blurb #daryl dixon gif #the walking dead fandom #the walking dead fic

[thewalkingthread]

Space (Daryl's POV) - D.D.

part one

pairing: daryl dixon x reader

summary: things aren't the same between you and daryl.

warning: still sad

a/n: i am planning on doing a part 2 but i needed to give you daryl's side first (also, I know this is in 3rd person, but it's giving a bit of insight on Daryl's thought process so I'm labeling it as his POV)

Daryl sat outside on the porch, staring into the sunset, his mind lost in a maze of thoughts and responsibilities. He pulls the cigarette snug between his fingers to his lips. As he took a drag, the smoke curled into the air, surrounding him before disappearing into nothing.

You were inside the house, with RJ and Judith, the sounds of laughter and the occasional clanging of pans echoed from inside the house. RJ and Judith were a constant reminder of the world they were trying to preserve, but the weight of responsibility had carved a gap between you and him.

Daryl knew things haven't been right between him and his lover. He's known for a long time now, but he doesn't know how to fix it. Daryl couldn't pinpoint the exact moment things took a turn, the exact moment he started to pull away from you. It just sort of happened. Things would be easier if he simply just stopped loving you, but that wasn't the case.

In reality, Daryl loved you so much that it hurt him. He loved you so much that he didn't know what to do with it, he'd never loved anyone like this before.

The absence of Rick and Michonne took a toll on Daryl. He's the one that took the biggest hit, for obvious reasons. Suddenly he had two kids, suddenly everyone was asking him the important questions. Suddenly he wasn't just a redneck with a crossbow, he was a leader- the leader. He could feel the weight of everyone's expectations, the burden of leadership now resting solely on his shoulders. He was a tracker, a survivor, but a leader – that was a role he never asked for, a role that felt like an ill-fitting mask.

The pressure was suffocating, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he was failing, not just as a leader but as a partner.

There were too many things that needed to be fixed, too many people to please, too many walkers to be killed. Daryl felt like everything he was doing just wasn't good enough.

He knew it wasn't fair. He knew the community deserved a good leader. A leader that knew what he was doing, someone that was a natural born leader, someone like Rick Grimes. Daryl knew he wasn't no Rick Grimes. Daryl knew it wasn't fair to the kids. They deserve to be raised and loved on by their parents.

Most importantly, he knew it wasn't fair to you. You, who had stood by his side through thick and thin, weathering the storms of this apocalyptic world together. You deserved more than a love burdened by the weight of his insecurities and doubts.

Even knowing that, Daryl couldn't bring himself to take action in his own home. So the gap between the two of you grew with every passing day.

The front door swings open, "Dinner's ready!" RJ sticks his head out of the doorway, sending Daryl a toothy smile.

Daryl grunts, "Be right there." RJ runs back inside, leaving the door open. With one more drag, he snuffed out the cigarette and heads inside.

Judith is setting out plates while you bring the food to the table. Your eyes meet his and it's almost instinct for you to immediately look elsewhere. Everyone takes their place around the table, Daryl taps the top of the kids heads as he passes. With a slight hesitation, Daryl places a small kiss to the top of your head before settling in his own seat.

"Thanks for cookin," Daryl mumbles to you. You're looking at him with slightly wide eyes before you nod at him with a small smile.

After dinner Daryl volunteered to clean up around the house, relieving you from your regular routine so you could relax a bit before bed. Admittedly, Daryl took his time, not exactly rushing to get everything in order.

Daryl locks all the doors and turns off all the lights before entering the bedroom. The bed was empty and the bathroom door was wide open. Daryl pauses in his place for a moment, debating whether or not he should go back downstairs and wait for another hour.

Daryl shakes his head, stepping towards the bathroom before he could psych himself out. You were laying in the bathtub with your eyes closed, completely relaxed in the warm water.

Your head turns at the sound of his footsteps and your eyes lazily open to see Daryl leaning against the bathroom doorway. He offers a a half smile, feeling a twinge of guilt for intruding on your relaxing time.

You close your eyes again, resting your head back on the rolled up towel. Daryl shifts towards the sink, starting his nighttime routine.

"Do you want to join me?" Your voice cuts through the silence. Daryl glances over his shoulder towards you, who still kept your eyes closed. Daryl stood up straight, clearing his throat slightly.

"Yuh want meh to?"

"Wouldn't ask if I didn't want you to, hotshot." The nickname that you coined him early in your friendship tugged at Daryl's heart. Without a second thought, Daryl rid himself of his clothes.

You sat up in the tub, allowing room for Daryl to slide in behind you. It was strange for the both of you, being so close, so intimate. You let yourself settle into his body, as stiff as you both might be in this moment.

You rested your head back onto his shoulder, soaking in this rare moment between the two of you.

"Y/N... We should t-"

You shake your head, quickly shushing him.

"We do." You agree with him. "But not right now. Just want to enjoy this."

Daryl hums lowly, before allowing his body to relax. With unsureness, his hands wrap around you, landing on your stomach and pulling you close to him.

This is the closest the two of you have been in months, yet it still felt like you were miles apart.

#daryl dixon #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fic #the walking dead one shot #twd #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon one shot #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fandom #norman reedus #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixion x reader

[velvetcloxds]

come over- more twd request for you, daryl and sunshine!reader braiding his hair and him forgetting to take it out before getting to work in the morning

OH, SUNSHINE | D.D.

word count: 1k

warnings: soft daryl my beloved, age gap, alexandria era, little suggestive at the end- not exactly as requested, also added some dbf!daryl, quickly proofread

You giggled as Daryl grunted for at least the hundredth time since he was very cruelly persuaded to take a shower with you, you being there the only thing that was convincing enough to let you wash his hair for him, a deep conditioning only allowed after the promise of letting him kiss you all over while you worked. His hair was longer than it was in the prison, very much so, and with the aid of the hair dryer his hair looked prepped for some fancy advertisement you’d have seen posted on a wall somewhere before.

“Stop that,” you cooed, the cigarette he flicked out the window long forgotten as soon as his eyes landed on you, you were sprawled out on the bed they’d assigned him, all clean and perfect in a shirt that should’ve been his, but he didn’t mind seeing it on you instead. He had half the mind to check if the door was locked again, knowing you shouldn’t be in here, shouldn’t have been in there with him either, but hell what a sight, he’d face whatever reprimand his selfish feelings would earn him for savoring the delicacy that you were. He fiddled again, trying to tuck his hair behind his ear but the softness was unfamiliar, slipping right back and earning another little huff and puff from him. “Come here,” you beckoned, sitting back against the wall, unfolding your legs so he could settle between them.

He was slow in his descent, hesitant, careful as always knowing who you were, who you belonged to, his best friend, your father, fast asleep in the room next door. But he moved still, on his knees in front of you, raking his eyes over your features as the most delicately hopeful smile rested on your lips. You were much less hesitant, gentle hands reaching out to smooth out his hair, the fuzziness from the conditioner making his grunting more understandable.

“Can I braid it for you,” you breathed though you knew he wouldn’t mind, ever the stubborn man that he is, he could never say no to you, never fuss as much as he is used to doing, not with you, it felt wrong to be anything but perfectly agreeable to your every wish and desire. “It’ll be less frizzy,” you had one of those smiles on your face again, like the one that coerced him into the shower, into his room, into his heart.

Now he wasn’t all that excited for the concept of it all, he’d briefly considered an issue coming up in the middle of the night and he’d have to face the dead or the enemy while sporting a braid but selfishly it would mean he’d get to feel your fingers digging through his hair, scraping at his scalp, cooing him in a way he’d only allow from you.

“Alright,” he gave in and he was putty in your hands in an instant, melting down onto his elbows to let you work, eyes full of disbelieved wonder as he watched you and he couldn’t fight himself placing a kiss onto your bare thigh, humming as he stole a few more, looking up at you through his lashes.

“Is this better, baby?” you sighed, performing some sort of magic with the end of his braid to tie it off and make it stay in place, fingers gripping his shoulder to guide him up, bring him closer, humming just the same as he gripped onto your waist. He kissed at your neck, trailed his lips up your jaw, your cheek, pausing as he hovered by your ear as he whispered inaudible praises- you fought a giggle at the softness of him, so unfamiliar yet so natural. “Dar,” you wanted to see him, unhappy with him hiding even as he was so close to you. He kissed the hair above your ear, grunting differently this time, a smug little sound as his hands drifted up your shirt, rough flesh scraping against your silky skin.  

“Yes, sunshine?” he shifted to look at you, not surprised when you cupped his cheeks, brushed your nose against his, and scrunched said nose when he pinched at your sides.

“I love you,” you knew you weren’t allowed to say that out loud, whisper it maybe, draw it in small hearts on his hand when he reached for you in secret, write it on notes to sneak into the pocket of his leather vest but never out loud- it was a dangerous thing to say, to admit, loving him shouldn’t be something you were bold about. “You love me too,” you added, and his brows dipped, he wanted to disagree, remind you that this wasn’t the plan, wasn’t what either of you signed up for but he couldn’t find the words to lie to you. So, he kissed you again, harder, forceful with the softest, gentlest reminder of love. You held onto him tightly, scared he’d leave if you didn’t, brave as you felt him guide you down into the pillows pulling lightly at the material of your shirt.

“Say it again,” he whispered into your mouth and you smiled when he pulled away, looked you over, the heat creeping over your skin, burning against his own and you knew it was crazy to be so caught up in him in the midst of it all. “Again, say it again.”

“You love me,” you dared him he had that smug smile again, tilting his head to demand more. “And I love you,” he hummed, pleased with himself, with you obliging him. “You going to show me how much?” how you managed to say that with such an innocent little expression was beyond him, but he wouldn’t stop giving you what you want now, and never would.

“Let’s hope this braid of yours holds.”

And it did hold, right up to the morning when he'd forgotten he had it in the first place, the night before having much more memorable moments that took root in his head. You were the last one up, making sure to sneak into your room to get some real clothes before going downstairs where you found a blushing Daryl eating a piece of toast. He was the center of attention, jokes coming from all around even from your dad, and your little hairstyle was to blame. His frustration eased ever so slightly when you ever nonchalantly stilled next to them.

"I'm sorry," you whispered and he knew you were, knew you felt extremely silly for making people laugh at him over what was supposed to be an act of love. He handed you the plate with his other piece of toast, shrugging as he licked his fingers clean.

"Don't be," he whispered right back just in time for Rick to come through with another joke that had you biting back a smile of your own as the kitchen filled with laughter. "Something funny, sunshine?" he dared loud enough for the room to hear and you were the one to shrug, hiding the fondness in your eyes by taking a bite of the toast, humming at the taste, content as he accidentally rested his shoulder against yours.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x yn #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon drabble #daryl dixon blurb #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon one shot #daryl dixon fic #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead fluff #twd fluff #monique's writing events #monique's homesick sleepover #right where queue left me

[dftreed]

Burdened

Summary : Short Daryl one shot where the reader comforts him after a run gone wrong

Warnings : Mentions of death and classic apocalypse centered misery

Word Count : 1.4k

(Not proofread)

You could almost sense the mourning before you’d even found the source of it, feel it crawling up your skin and leaving you completely unsettled as you laid in the bottom bunk of your cell.

It wasn’t unusual to feel this way normally but things had been simpler lately, you’d go as far as to say they’d even been better lately. You’d admittedly let your guard down a little bit with all the new arrivals to the prison. The clubs for the children, actual shifts on the fence or keeping watch and group dinners giving you a sick sense of normalcy that you foolishly leaned too deep into.

You were well aware of the fact a group had gone on a run today and you were a bit dizzy now despite the fact you were just laying in bed, overwhelmed with the heavy silence that only came when something terrible had happened.

It took you a few hours of feeling like this before you were finding the courage to stand out of bed and hesitantly leave your cell in search of the bad news. You figured it would be better to find it yourself instead of letting it creep up on you.

The silence was even louder outside of your cell but at least you could hear some signs of life and stop tricking yourself you were the only person left on earth. Rick instilled a pretty strict curfew into the newcomers but considering you were on the council and had been around since the quarry, you got a bit of a privilege when it came to wandering around at night.

Now you could clearly hear the people throughout the prison getting ready for bed, mothers singing their babies to sleep to try and drown out the moaning from the fence line outside, people cleaning their guns or sharpening their knives.

It reminded you of how things used to be back before the newcomers, even before the prison. You never were very good at sleeping and you can distinctly remember laying awake in your makeshift camps and listening to the sounds of your family. You’d memorized how Rick’s breath catches in his sleep when he’s having a nightmare, the way Carl snored slightly when he was flat on his back and especially the fact that you rarely saw Daryl sleep at all.

Daryl was similar to you in your worst habits and tendencies and not sleeping was one of them.

You’d catch his eye from where you were sitting up against a tree or a peeling wall of a abandoned house the group had settled in for the night, only holding each others gaze for a split second of acknowledgment before he was going back to sharpening his arrows and sticks.

It was startlingly similar to how he looked now as you approached him on the perch, knowing he was the best to go to if you wanted the news as bluntly as possible. Glenn would try to sugarcoat things to protect your feelings and Tyreese might just get emotional himself.

Daryl was looking up when he heard footsteps approaching but he didn’t look at all surprised to see that it was you, watching you for a few seconds longer than normal as you made your way over to him and sat on his makeshift bed on the floor. You left some space between the two of you considering you weren’t exceptionally close outside of the trauma bond you’d built over the years.

You didn’t take his emotional distance personally knowing that was just another way the two of you were similar, prone to holding people far away to avoid any damage when things went wrong.

You were studying his expression as he went back to carving something into a piece of wood, frowning softly when you saw clear signs of the damage you were referring to. His tense shoulders gave him away even more and suddenly you were almost afraid to ask what had happened.

“Was it one of us?” You were asking softly and he jumped a little at the sound of your worried voice, lowering his hands and stopping what he was doing so he could turn his head and look at you.

You were panicking internally and running through the faces of the people you’d seen leaving earlier, trying to rule out who might’ve not made it back.

He was chewing on his lip and shaking his head so subtly you almost missed it, and you would have if you weren’t watching him so intensely. Your eyes flickered down to the way he was running his thumb alongside the blade of his knife and you were instinctively reaching down and wrapping your hand around his wrist before you had a chance to talk yourself out of it.

Both of you tensed up at the movement and you were beyond aware of the fact this might be the first time you’d intentionally touched Daryl.

You’d been on the back of his bike a handful of times where he had awkwardly grunted out instructions for you to wrap your arms around his middle and there was a dozen instances where you were having to patch up his cuts or bandage parts of his body.

But those were very different scenarios compared to you purposefully reaching out and touching him gently.

He seemed to agree with your inner turmoil considering he was still extremely tensed up and staring daggers at where your skin touched. You were starting to rethink it and just in the process of removing your hand from his wrist when he was clearing his throat and turning his fist over, showcasing his palm to you.

You glanced at his face again for confirmation but he was refusing to look at you and you figured that was the most you were going to get, lacing your fingers in his and whispering the question you’d asked to him again.

“Zach.” He was eventually answering after another full minute of silence and he spat the name like it was stuck in his throat.

Your mouth parted in shock and you were embarrassed about the small gasp that ripped its way out of your throat, immediately using your free hand to cover your mouth. He was looking at you now and almost like he could see the question you were about to ask on your face, he was speaking again.

“Told her already.”

You nodded softly and squeezed his hand without thinking about it. Frustration with yourself was building up considering you couldn’t think of the right words to comfort him but you also knew him well enough to know he wasn’t necessarily looking for reassurance. Even if he wasn’t in the room with Zach when whatever happened happened, you could sense the guilt and blame coming off of him in waves.

“He was a good kid.” You were eventually settling on something you both could agree on and he let out another low grunt of acknowledgment. “It wasn’t your fault Daryl…. whatever it was.”

“Weren’t even there.” He was shutting down your attempt to ease his mind and you could feel his hand tensing like he was getting ready to snatch it from you.

You were quickly turning your body a little bit more so you were facing him, not just sitting shoulder to shoulder. Your other hand was coming up to touch his arm gently while simultaneously squeezing the one that was still holding his to try and stop him from closing off on you again.

“I didn’t need to be there to know that if it was in anyway your fault, it wouldn’t have happened.” You were speaking firmly to make sure he understood that you meant what was being said, tone just rough enough to try and talk some sense into him. “You carry enough as is Daryl, lessen the load.”

He was looking at you from the side of his eye, bangs in his face now that his hair was getting longer than you’d ever seen it. You couldn’t tell if he was teary eyed or if it was the soft flame of the lantern lighting up his gaze but your heart shattered a bit anyways.

You were glad to see him nod in acceptance to your words and although you didn’t necessarily believe he actually was taking them to heart, you were just happy he had acknowledged what you were saying. He’d heard somebody tell him it didn’t all need to be his burden every time somebody was lost.

This time he didn’t flinch when you squeezed his hand again, not even when you were leaning your head on his shoulder softly and listening to the sounds of the sleeping prison together.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl dixon one shot #daryl x reader #daryl dixon fluff

[holdmytesseract]

Anyone got coincidentally a cute dad-to-be!Daryl idea I could write? 👀

I mean... We all need dad!Daryl in our lifes, right? 👀

#daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon #daryl x y/n #daryl imagines #daryl dixion imagine #daryl x reader #daryl dixion x reader #twd fanfic #daryl dixon one shot #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x pregnant!reader

[littlegodzilla]

Hi!

It's me again, as I said my inspiration is coming back to me again and I have a few new ideas and some requests to write and post so here I am!

This time I come with another AlphaDaryl one shot.

I hope you like it!

*

Marked.

AlphaDaryl Dixon x OmegaReader.

One shot.

Warnings: Bad language. Violence. Fighting. Marked Omega. ABO Dynamics. Smut.

Words: 5800

Summary: You and Daryl are together but you don't think that Daryl is fine with it.

Taglist: @phoenixblack89 @browneyes528 @pncnsc @lilythemadqueen @darylsgarden @srhxpci @green-eyedladywrites @xxtinasxxblog @hail-yourselves

(I can here this gif...)

"Help! Please somebody help me!" you screamed as you ran.

"Come back here, bitch! We both know you are craving it!" he trails behind you licking his lips in a lewd signature.

His scent like Alpha reaches your nostrils, choking you, your mind clouds wanting to submit to his demands, but you fought against it, you weren't going to let him bend you over. Running you managed to put distance between you, your legs were tired, but you weren't going to stop. You screamed when you felt arms lift you off the ground making you lose your balance. You kicked, scrambled and even bit him on the arm, he cursed loudly and slammed you against a wall in an attempt to block you.

"Stop the fuck, ya whore!" he shouted and hit you harder. "I'm gonna make ya mine, ya're close to yer heat."

"No! No, no, please! Somebody help me!" you screamed again in the hope that someone could hear you.

"Merle, let her go!" You heard a voice on the other side of the alley, You tried to look for where it came from. "Stop it, Merle, don't be an asshole!" you heard his voice again.

You were shaken as the newcomer pushed this Merle guy off of you. You saw them struggle, fight, actually one of them, the one chasing you didn't seem to be in his full faculties as he moved clumsily, perhaps drunk, but his instinct had dragged him to you anyway. That day you had finished your shift early, you felt you were close to your heat cycle and you didn't want to have problems with the company so you agreed with your colleagues to have those days off and they all agreed. However you didn't get very far because of that Merle who had been chasing you.

"Leave her alone!" You heard again, the other man stood next to you to protect you.

"Come on, lil'brother, don't be a pussy!" You yelled at him trying to dodge him. "She's an Omega about to go into heat and she's gonna be mine."

"Ain't gonna touch her! She ain't wanna ya to touch her, don't ya see? Get the hell out of here, Merle."

"Get the hell out of here? Who do y'think ya are to order me around, Daryl?" Daryl, that was the name of the man protecting you. "Have ya forgotten who the big brother is?"

"That's the least of it, now, Merle, get a hold of yerself and let her go." Daryl was intensifying his own Alpha instinct to try to control his brother and you felt dizzy.

"No, I'm gonna fuck her, I'm gonna give her what she needs and..."

"And then what, ya'll dump her and find someone else?"

"Exactly, we are Alphas and the Omegas exist to please us." He smiled a sickening grin and Daryl growled at his brother's words. "Get out of the way."

"No..." His hand closed around your wrist and you trembled hard. Daryl felt his instincts spiraling out of control by the minute. Merle reminded him more and more of his father every day, Daryl felt like he was losing him with each passing day, but he wouldn't let him hurt you too. He'd been through that scenario before. "Not this time."

Your eyes widened as the Alpha that was meant to save you, pulled at you, his mouth closed on your neck and his teeth buried into your skin. You cried out in pain and even felt some pleasure as his lips brushed your neck. You closed your eyes and clenched your fists, the heat, the need that was beginning to form in your stomach due to the heat began to subside, his Mark as your Alpha was beginning to take effect on you, calming you down. You moaned softly letting yourself be done, holding onto his arm. Merle's lecherous smile turned into a grimace of distaste and he glared at his brother with hatred.

"She's marked now, she belongs to an Alpha, ya can't touch her anymore. Leave her alone."

*

You touch your scraf as the memories stop, bringing you back to reality. It's been several years since all that happened, Daryl protected you from his brother by making you his Omega, but it was clearly a mistake. Neither of you deserve the life you have. Bonded together without really wanting it, united only to keep desperate Alphas away from you. There is nothing else. Daryl hasn't touched you since. Even that time he didn't touch you. He gave you the scarf he always carried with him and advised you to cover your neck with it.

"If ya ever find yer true Alpha, I will break our bond." He told you. "But if they see yer Mark no one will come near."

You never found that destined Alpha, and your bond forced you to stay close to him, even though you went on with your life as usual, you had that constant feeling of wanting to know where he was, you weren't the only one, Daryl had it happen to him too and he would come visit you every day at the restaurant where you worked, sit there for a couple of hours and then leave.

Merle never bothered you again, but it was a big price to pay for both of you.

After that, death rose up and began to walk the world forcing the living to flee what they had always known as home and regroup in small groups to survive. You traveled with the Dixon brothers for weeks until you arrived at that quarry meeting a larger group. Everyone had their own story, everyone accepted and protected each other, Merle wanted to steal their supplies to escape and you didn't agree with his plan.

You traveled for a long time all together, things got complicated, they got better, at the CDC you thought you really would be safe, but it was just another trap, there you saw Daryl drunk like he hadn't been for a long time, you also saw him scared wanting to run away from there, save your lives, even today you can still feel his fingers squeezing your wrist so hard when you were running away from the CDC you thought he would break your wrist.

"Daryl..." You said to him one day in prison, when the Woodbury people settled in with you. "If you ever find your Omega, tell me and I'll break our bond." You told him the same thing he had told you long ago, you know you can't do that, but you just wanted him to understand what you meant.

You wanted to give him the freedom he deserved, because Daryl wasn't a bad person, he cared about all of you, he cared about his people, he cared about everything being under control. He deserved to find that person who truly loved him. Who valued him as he deserved.

He didn't say anything, he rarely responded to what you said, but that day he was particularly serious and distant.

Then you found Alexandria, and the number of new people you began to meet grew and grew, and deep down you were afraid that he would really find his Omega. You can't say for sure if it was selfishness or fear of being alone, but your stomach always churned at the thought of it.

Here you live now, you adapt little by little, you all have assigned tasks, some more exciting than others, but you're all still together and alive and that's the most important thing. You go out on patrol with Gleen, Noah and Tara; Rick and Michonne are the new police, the kids are studying, Daryl has become friends with Aaron and Eric and they have helped him ride a motorcycle to go recruit people with Aaron. To tell you the truth it's the first time you spend so much time apart, it's not uncomfortable, it doesn't make you feel anxious or sad, but it's strange, because every time you see him come back your heart is racing.

"Hey, hi." You hear a voice next to you and you turn quickly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, I'm Spencer. Deanna Monroe's oldest son." He introduces himself and stretches out his hand towards you.

"H-hello, sorry, I was just thinking about...my stuff." You squeeze his hand and introduce yourself, you actually already knew each other, not officially, you had seen him at the party Deanna had thrown to welcome you, but you didn't get too close to him.

"I guess you're nervous, it's normal, it must be the first time."

"What? I'm sorry, I didn't..."

"I was talking about your... about Daryl. He's your Alpha, right?" He points to the scarf around your neck and you feel your cheeks burn. "It's been a long time since we've seen an Omega around here, your essence is very weak so I figured you were bonded to someone..."

"Y-yes, Daryl and I are..." You press your lips together and lower your gaze.

"Yes... you are a very particular couple, I don't know many bonds between Alphas and Omegas, here most of us are Betas or some Alphas, but I've always heard that the bond between you is strong and passionate, that you are loyal and faithful couples, you are always together..."

It's not a lie at all, you are faithful and loyal to Daryl, he has saved your life so many times you can't count them, he has always cared about your well being and comfort, and you have always been grateful for it, you know you can never repay him in full, but even if you could, you know Daryl would never ask you for anything.

"Daryl and I don't..." You close your mouth for a moment and sigh. "Our bond was a mistake, he Marked me to save me from an Alpha who wished to rape me..." You whisper without taking your eyes off your shoes. "I knew that Marked by another Alpha no one would ever bother me again, but that cursed us both..."

"Wow, I've never heard a story like that. You mean... he doesn't have feelings for you?"

"We've learned to live together, I think... but nothing more."

"You're kidding." He snorts in amusement and you give him a confused look. "I'm sure he wouldn't let you go even if you asked him to."

"What? no, Daryl and I have a pact, if either of us..."

"Wanna bet? I say Daryl wouldn't give you to just anyone who asked." He smiles challenging you, you look at him blankly.

It's a stupid bet, why would you bet against him? You don't know what Spencer's intentions are, you don't even know if he's serious, but you don't want to play along. You know what the truth is, if you were to talk to Daryl right now and tell him that there was another Alpha in your life, he would accept it, you're sure he would even celebrate, because that would mean getting rid of you, you would stop being a problem, you would stop being a nuisance for him, a burden. No, that bet is nonsense.

"Hey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you..." You hear Spencer and realize you're crying. You quickly wipe the tears from your cheeks and shake your head.

"N-no, it's okay, it's just that I doubt Daryl would stop you..." You whisper and he moves closer to you, rests a hand on your man and your body shudders.

"You want us to find out? You might be in for a surprise." He insists again, you don't understand why he cares so much, for a moment you thought he was a jerk like his brother, but you were wrong about him, he really seems worried about you.

"O-okay..." you don't even know why you're accepting that. You gasp as you feel his arms wrap around you, he wraps his arms around you and his Alpha like essence starts to choke you. "Spencer..."

"Relax, it's so he doesn't smell you, I feel like he's close and if he smells you then we won't solve this doubt."

"No..." You start to get overwhelmed, Spencer's smell is intense, you don't like it, not even having him around, he's not a dominant Alpha, but he makes you nervous.

"Hide." He says turning away from you and points with his head. "He's coming."

You don't want to play along, but you finally hide seeing Daryl approaching down one of the nearby streets, you tense up and wish you could get Spencer's scent off of you, but he son of Deanna walks straight towards the other Alpha and you freeze.

"Hey, Daryl, do you have a moment?" He calls out to him, the hunter stops and gives him a sidelong glance, he's loaded with his crossbow and a backpack, maybe he's going on some new expedition.

"Not much, Rick's waitin' me."

"It'll just be a moment, I want to talk about your Omega." You can see from where you are as Daryl's whole body tenses, he frowns and clenches his jaw, he takes several steps towards Spencer, but stops.

"What about her? what has she done now?"

That offends you, he says it like you're a continual nuisance, you may not have known how to defend yourself at first, like many of the people, but now you know how to shoot, track, you've even once hunted when Daryl had been out for a few days in search of larger prey, so his comment is uncalled for. You hear Spencer snort in amusement.

"Nothing, but you're clearly an awkward couple." He looks at him and Daryl twitches nervously. "It's clear that your bond is somewhat imposed, isn't it?"

"That ain't matter to ya." He growls clenching his fists.

"Yes, it does matter to me. I'm an Alpha too." Spencer starts to speak, Daryl takes a few more steps towards him.

Spencer is taller than Daryl, but that doesn't seem to matter to the hunter, he moves intimidatingly towards him, his essence as an Alpha flares for a moment, dominating over Spencer's who growls and lets out his own essence so he doesn't choke on the archer's.

"She's forced to be with you, I don't know why, but neither of you want what you have. I want to be her Alpha." Despite Daryl's intensity, Monroe keeps talking watching him tense up even more. "Break the bond with her, set her free and..."

"Shut the fuck up." Daryl's voice sounds extremely low, gravely charged with pent up anger, the archer trembles as he holds back. "I swear, if ya finish that fuckin'..."

He falls silent because something hits his nose. A smell he would recognize anywhere, a smell that has been with him for years, a smell he has always protected and now...now this guy he knows nothing about reeks of it, why? His forehead collides against Spencer's and makes him take a step back with a roar.

"What did ya do to her? why do ya smell like her?" He demands to know and Spencer smirks in amusement, as he expected, Daryl wasn't going to let you off that easy.

"Why do you think that is? She's let me get close. She doesn't believe in your bond, she doesn't feel attached to you. I'm sure she'd do anything for..."

He can't finish the sentence, Daryl punches him in the mouth so hard it knocks him backwards. A startled gasp escapes you, Daryl blocks the other Alpha against the ground, throwing punches at him one after another. You run out of your hiding place to go to him, you grab his arm to stop him from punching Spencer.

"Daryl! Daryl, stop it!" You yell at him.

"Get out of the way, I'm gonna kill him!"

"No! Stop it, please, it was all lies!" you yell again and get Daryl to move. "Nothing happened! Spencer didn't touch me! What the fuck is your fucking problem?!?" You yell at him punching him in the chest.

"My fucking problem? Ya say he ain't touch ya, but I can feel him on ya! I can smell him on ya!" he yells also walking towards you.

"Th-That's not... nothing happened..." You understand that it's your word against his, but you can't understand why he's been like this, you really expected him to agree and let Spencer take care of you, even if it was all a lie. "Oh my God, Spencer..." You walk over to the other man wanting to help him, but Daryl grabs you and pulls you away again.

"Get away from him!"

"Daryl!"

"Listen to me, Omega!" he towers over you, this is the first time he's used his influence over you to subdue you. You feel your lungs run out of air for a moment, your mind loses control and you lower your head in submission. "Go home, take a shower and get that smell off ya."

"No..." You try to fight his influence, but it's too strong. Daryl walks towards you, his forehead resting on yours.

"I said go home and..."

"And I said no..."

"Fuck woman!" He roars fed up with your refusals.

Daryl holds your arm tightly, his gaze falls one last time on Spencer and he starts walking home again dragging you along with him. You scream and kick trying to get loose, to no avail. Daryl is angry, you can feel it. The expedition he had pending with Rick will have to wait.

*

He opens the door to the house that is now yours and throws you inside, he closes it again violently, you adopt a defensive posture, you don't know what's going to happen, but if Daryl wants to fight, you'll fight, you don't care. He has gone overboard with Spencer for no reason, he didn't need to hit him like that.

"Have you lost your mind?!"

"Go upstairs and take a fucking shower."

"I said no."

"What the fuck is yer problem, woman! If I tell ya to do it, do it!"

"And I told you no! What the fuck is your problem, Dixon? Spencer was pulling your leg, he just wanted to..." You fall silent because you don't know if telling him that the whole thing was a bet would make things worse.

"What, Spencer wanted to, what?" he growls again looking at you through his hair.

"Nothing...he didn't touch me, you didn't have to be so violent with him."

"He wanted ya as his Omega, ya sting like him."

"That's not true, for God's sake Daryl, listen to me."

"No, I gave y'an order; go upstairs and take a shower." He towers over you again and you get dizzy.

"Cut it out, you're a fucking prick! You Marked me without me being able to object to it, you say you did it to protect me from Merle, but you're just like him!" you yell again, sick of it all. Daryl frowns, chews his lip without looking away from you, snaps and shakes his head.

"I'm like Merle? Is that what y'think?"

"Yes..."

"Fine, then I'll be Merle."

You look at him with fear as he approaches you with a determined step, the front door is blocked with his body, your mind traces a quick plan to escape from him through the kitchen, but Daryl is faster and grabs you by the shoulders, lifting you off the floor, climbing on his shoulder as if you were a sack of potatoes. You scream and twitch wanting him to let go, kicking, hoping to hurt him, but he resists. He climbs up the stairs being careful not to throw you as he moves forward and reaches the bathroom. For a moment you want to call for help, to call Carol or the rest of your classmates, but you are no longer a child, you can solve this on your own. When you reach the bathroom, Daryl abruptly releases you and locks the door.

"Get in the shower."

"I said no, Daryl, I'm not going to argue anymore."

"I'm not going to argue either, so get in the fucking shower or I'll do it myself."

You grit your teeth again, ready to protest once more but Daryl is not for jokes or more fighting, his jaw is so tense you think he'll dislocate his jaw. You snort violently and start unbuttoning your shirt.

"No, with the clothes, everything reeks of Spencer." He tells you and takes off his crossbow leaving it by the side of the door.

'No' is back in your mouth, this all seems absurd to you, but his influence is still weighing on you, he's not forcing you, but he's not giving you options to change your mind either, you sigh long and do as he asks. You open the shower door to get inside and close it again. As the water falls on your head you feel Daryl's scent cease to haunt you, you watch as he takes off his backpack and sits down on a small chair in the bathroom. He doesn't look at you, he lets you shower quietly, but he doesn't leave either. You rub your body over your clothes, Spencer's scent slowly dissipates from your clothes, but your skin still has a different scent. Fuck Daryl, you're not going to listen to him anymore.

You take off your shirt and pants, you leave it to the side of the shower and bend down to scrub the clothes with the soap, later you will wash your body, you feel like you are getting more and more pissed off, having a washing machine you are doing there show because your idiot Alpha is not able to leave you alone, his anger is not letting him act rationally dragging you in the process. You are angry and you want to scream. You want to know what's really going through his mind.

Daryl is looking down at his hands, he doesn't want to lift his head and look up by mistake, yet he catches out of the corner of his eye that you move and bend down inside the shower to rub your clothes on the side. He swallows hard as he realizes you are half naked, only your underwear covering your nakedness. Since he Marked you he has never looked at you or touched you again, he has always been careful not to get too close, he knew that if he touched you he might not be able to contain himself.

*

Daryl is frustrated, moving his hands nervously on the surface of the table in that restaurant. His gaze fixed on Merle who doesn't even pay attention to him, his older brother's eyes fixed on you, you move back and forth tending to your assigned tables, carrying plates of food and pitchers of beers.

"Look at her, Daryl." Merle tells you without taking his eyes off you. "A young Omega working here."

"Is that why we came here, because of her?" he tries to sound annoyed, but he's not an idiot, he knew you worked there, Merle isn't the only one who's been watching you.

"Because of her? What's wrong with ya, lil'brother? What's with that tone, are ya pussy?"

"No, I'm ain't a pussy, but ya made me push yer fuckin' van over here, for..."

"By an Omega, didn't ya hear me? How many Omegas do y'know in this neighborhood, Daryl?" He wants to answer but Merle steps forward. "Exactly, none, they're either old or claimed. This one I'm gonna have fun with."

"What do ya plan to do?" He scowls at him, he doesn't want his brother to hurt you.

Daryl met you by chance, just like his brother, one day when he left the shop where he works he went with his buddies to eat at your restaurant and you waited on his table. He's sure you didn't even notice his presence, with a huge smile you were nice to them, you took care of their order and brought their food, you didn't treat them any different than other tables you waited on, but Daryl followed your every move feeling something strange tighten his stomach.

"She's pretty, isn't she?" A companion said to him. "She's an Omega, you know, and you don't have a partner yet, maybe you could..." He tried to encourage Daryl, but Daryl grunted and shook his head, fixing his gaze back on his plate.

No, he couldn't do that, he didn't know you at all, he wouldn't know how to talk to you or what to talk about, he couldn't come up to you and just ask you to be his. That just wasn't right. However his brother now is just what he wants to do with you, but he doesn't intend to claim you, he just wants to have fun with you and then throw you away like a cigarette butt. No, if he can help it he won't let that happen.

Ever since Merle told him about his plans with you, Daryl has become a shadow inside the restaurant, he knows he is being paranoid and that he shouldn't be doing this, you don't know each other at all and he watches every step you take as if he were a predator, even though in reality what he was doing was preventing the real predator from getting close to you.

That day Daryl arrived late, work had dragged on in the workshop and he had not been able to leave earlier, when he arrived at the restaurant he did not see you serving your usual tables. A coworker approached him smiling mischievously.

"She left a while ago, her cycle has started and she's taken a few days off to pass the heat." She wiggles her eyebrows teasingly, but Daryl doesn't laugh, he knows it's bad news.

"Thanks." He growls and quickly runs off in search of you, he knows Merle won't be far behind and will be looking for you.

*

He knows that his decision to mark you was a mistake, it was selfish. He never thought about whether you were okay with it all, he only thought about defending you from his brother, marking you would prevent him from being able to hurt you, but it wasn't fair to you, forcing you to be with him, Daryl set a distance between you, he would come to see you to make sure you were okay, he was even serious when he told you he would let you go if you found your Alpha. But the world went to shit and he just can't let you go.

Because he likes you and those feelings have been intensifying the more time you spend together. When death started walking the Earth, Daryl didn't think twice about going to find you at the restaurant. There were several infected people trying to get into the kitchen where you were defending yourself by pouring boiling oil over them. Daryl killed several of them with his crossbow and helped you out the back door.

The living together between you really started from the time you arrived at camp with Shane and the others, Daryl thought maybe he could make your bond stronger if you got to know each other better, but you were both stubborn, the stress of the situation pushed you over the edge and most of the time you ended up arguing. He only marked you, he never fully claimed you, which means his influence over you is not complete, that's why you are able to talk back to his orders and not be dominated by his essence, Daryl tries not to use it on you because he knows he has no right, but that day has been the straw that broke the camel's back. Knowing that Spencer wants you for himself, that he wants him to remove his bond to claim you himself, that makes him sick. Because he wants to finally claim you too, he wants you to be completely his, but he can't force you, he needs to know that you want it too.

Yet he can't stop looking at you, your cycle is near, he can feel your heat altering your Omega essence, altering his own. He bites his lip several times before he rises from the small chair and removes his boots, his pants and his fingers hesitate for a second as he grips his vest. You've seen his scars, he knows, at the Greene farm you were by his side when he had the accident with the horse and Andrea shot him. He smiles at the memory of that, the split lip and the blonde's black eye when he went back to his tent. He sighs and ditches the vest walking to the shower, opening the door slowly.

You haven't even noticed his presence, concentrating you rub the skin on your arms to get rid of a smell that you don't even notice, but you're sure Daryl does. You startle when you feel his hands on your shoulders and quickly turn around.

"D-Daryl, what are you...?" you gasp when his mouth connects with yours.

It's a slow, soft, tentative kiss, neither of you quite sure what to do. Your hands tighten on his waist as his tongue brushes your lips asking for permission, in between you open your mouth and the kiss intensifies, Daryl nuzzles your neck as he leans you against the shower wall, water pouring over your heads, but your mouths don't part, your tongues tangle, your lips collide wishing you could melt. Daryl breaks the kiss for air, his forehead rests on yours, both of you trying to catch your breath.

"Omega..."

"Alpha..." You open your eyes slowly to find him staring at you. Your body trembles and Daryl kisses you again.

He stops the shower water and holds your legs lifting you off the floor. You let out a startled cry hugging yourself to his body with both legs and arms, but you know he won't let you fall. Daryl's hands grab you and he walks with you out of the bathroom and into one of the many rooms in the house.

He carefully leaves you on the bed to retrace his steps and close the door. He doesn't want anyone to interrupt you. Whatever happens in there, he wants the privacy of the room to free you, to help you talk freely and come clean with each other, as you should have done long ago.

Daryl walks slowly towards you, his eyes riveted on your body, his breathing heavy and strained, his jaw clenched. He climbs onto the mattress and crawls towards you, trapping your body under his.

"Daryl..." You whisper wanting to know what's wrong, but he kisses you again.

Slowly, like before, but you can sense a certain need in his actions, an urgency that he tries to conceal, but can't quite control. You gasp and he pulls away from your mouth moving down his neck, goosebumps rising on your skin as you feel his lips on your ear.

"I'm gonna get Spencer's scent off ya myself." He growls and moves a little lower making you shiver.

"Daryl, what's wrong with you?" you want to know, but at the same time you feel like you don't want him to stop.

If he's doing all this for Spencer, he's driving you crazy, why now this instinct to protect you? A sigh escapes between your lips as he bites your shoulder, your body shudders and you close your eyes. He wants to erase Spencer's essence and implant his own on you, you're going to let him do it, because Daryl has never touched you or looked at you like he is doing now. You hear the click of your bra, Daryl lowers the straps and pulls the garment aside letting it fall to the floor. Once again his gaze sweeps over you and you hear him growl, you purr in turn, his fingers caress your arms slowly traveling to your tits, which he caresses their shape, massaging them between his fingers, playing with your nipples until they are completely hard.

You sigh and shiver feeling your body react to his caresses, your cycle is close and Daryl is helping it along. You feel heat run through your body, you arch and spread your legs wider as Daryl takes one of your tits into his mouth. He licks and sucks on your nipple, playing with it on his tongue as his other hand moves down to your lower belly and caresses your pussy over your panties.

He wants to claim you properly, he wants your union to be complete, after so long, Daryl has made a decision. No one else will touch you, no one. Only he can do it.

His fingers brush the waistband of your panties before he slips inside, he gasps and grunts as he caresses you, your folds moisten, your clit swells as his fingers rub it, from your mouth escapes a long moan that captures Daryl's attention, his fingers move a little faster, his eyes lose no detail of every gesture and grimace that forms on your face, your body jerks as he touches exactly at the point that makes you lose your mind and you let yourself go.

The little clothing left on your bodies disappears and Daryl lies back on top of you, your legs tremble on either side of his waist as he moves rubbing his hard cock against your core that is still sensitive, but at the same time you need more. The Alpha is in no hurry to enter you, he continues to enjoy spreading caresses and kisses over every inch of your skin. Daryl wants you to ask him, desperation and need forcing you to ask him.

He doesn't have to wait long.

"D-Daryl..." You gasp as you feel him bite the line of your neck. "Alpha..."

"Do ya need it? do ya want me to calm yer desire?"

"Please, Alpha, just you..." You purr when he growls against your skin.

"Yer a good Omega." He kisses you and his hips move again.

Your nails dig into his shoulders as you feel his cock begin to make its way inside you, stretching your walls, making you feel full, complete. You moan and arch under his body, your legs tightening around his waist preventing him from being able to escape. Daryl slowly pulls out and buries himself completely again in a single thrust.

The rhythm is fast, intense, deep. He grips the headboard of the bed to thrust harder inside you, you moan loudly moving with him, feeling yourself at your limit again. Daryl hides his face in the hollow of your neck as you tighten around his cock feeling his knot begin to swell.

"I'm...I'm gonna cum, Omega...I'm gonna knot myself on ya." He whispers moving slower, almost torturing you. "I need to know ya wanna it too."

"Yes, Daryl, please, I need it." You moan moving against him, but he blocks you with his body.

Daryl moans and bites your neck again, like that time, but this time you feel his knot swell completely inside you as he cums, launching yourself into a new high that makes you cry out his name.

When the knot loosens, Daryl lies down next to you, you don't quite know what to do; if you should leave, if you should hug him, maybe do nothing, stay there and wait, but you feel Daryl catch you and hug you, leaning you against his chest.

"Daryl..."

"If ya really want Spencer, I'll do my best to break our bond, I'm selfish, but I can't keep tearing yer life apart, I ain't..."

"Daryl stop it, listen to me." You stop him and sit up to look at him. "I don't love Spencer, I never loved him, he just wanted to show me that you cared about me..." You redden a little, but Daryl feels his cheeks burning too. "I always thought you regretted marking me, but I never wanted to walk away from you..." You confess staring at him, see a shy smile tug at his mouth and he shakes his head.

"Me neither... yer my Omega... yer mine and I am yers..."

"You are mine and I am yours..." You recite as well and lean into him giving him a kiss that lingers until it becomes intense again.

Your heat has been awakened by your bond, by Alpha's influence and you are going to enjoy it.

Maybe you are going to thank Spencer, later.

*

The End...

*

I hope you liked it!!

See you in the next stories!!

#my stuff #norman reedus #normanreedus #smut #daryl dixon #daryldixon #twd fanfiction #one shot #abo dynamics #alphaDaryl Dixon #omega reader #daryl x reader #daryl dixon x femreader #daryl dixon one shot

[gutsby]

Fake It Til You Make It (Or Drown)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Daryl finds out you faked an orgasm. Instead of getting mad, he decides to get even.

Warnings: NSFW. Every TWD character is drunk in this. Unprotected p-in-v. Soiling Michonne’s decorative towels and almost drowning Eugene. Carol-mandated makeup time with Daryl turns to edging and angry sex.

And the Oscar for Best Faked Orgasm goes to…

“Y/N,” Daryl groaned, shooting his load deep inside you.

You arched your back and curled your toes, even let out a sultry little gasp for good measure. Forced your walls to clench around his cock then pulse, periodically—you counted a silent one, two, squeeze in your head every so often and tried to make it so your tremors felt authentic. You practically had this shit down to a science by now.

Women like you weren’t built for quickies. You needed more time to cum, no matter the occasion.

You simply couldn’t and wouldn’t ever make it to climax with fifteen seconds of foreplay followed by Daryl throwing you up against the counter and jackhammering you hard on the edge for three minutes max. This wasn’t a porno, and you didn’t have a clit made of firecrackers.

Men like Daryl couldn’t stand the thought of you not cumming every time you had sex, though, so you sought to ease his mind on the matter during times you knew it was a physical impossibility to reach bliss. A liar you were not, but an occasional teller of euphoric fibs? Hell, you might’ve been tempted to dabble every now and then.

You adored the way he looked down at you when he finished, chocolate locks matted to his forehead and a smile shining bright on his face. He was tender and sweet, always gentle to pry you off of the sink, and he’d be watching you with admiration all the while.

Rick and Michonne’s booze-fueled pool parties had that effect on you both—always scrambling for a spare room to fuck in the second you arrived like you’d forgotten how good the other one looked dressed in swimwear.

Daryl shimmied the bottom half of your lime green bikini back up your legs and patted your rear with affection.

“I think Rick would be proud,” he said.

“I think Michonne would be pissed.”

You glanced down at the lovely little decorative towels Daryl had used as a sweat rag and made a mental note to wash those back at your place. You yelped when Daryl dropped his hand back down to your heat.

“Still sensitive?” he smiled.

“Uh huh.”

You were already trying to slide past his frame toward the bathroom door, where the sounds of the party outside were growing louder each minute. In truth, you knew that spot where Daryl’s fingers had almost grazed would have been a lot more sensitive had you actually just came, and that tell alone would have given your act away. You couldn’t have that, so you quickly pulled him in for a kiss and pushed his hands back up to your hips.

Daryl’s tongue traced the seal of your lips and parted them for a far more passionate kiss than you’d expected. You let his tongue roam anyway, but inside, you felt slightly confused as to why your boyfriend was still so…horny when he’d just blown his load a minute ago.

You moved languidly toward the door as Daryl continued to kiss you. He was touching your waist a little strangely, the more you came to think of it. Maybe frisky from the whiskey?

Your hand reached the doorknob the second his did. Daryl pulled away and let the corners of his mouth twist almost cruelly in a grin before turning the handle and nudging you out.

You shuffled a few awkward steps past the door. Daryl was hot on your heels, hand at the small of your back when his lips returned to your ear—just for a second, this time. He leaned in close, now, and murmured real low:

“I know you faked it.”

Then he pushed you forward again, only for you to trip over your own two feet trying to turn and face him.

“What?” you hissed. Playing dumb.

But if you could play dumb, Daryl was more than happy to play stupid as fuck. He ignored your outburst altogether and waved at someone behind you, pretending not to see you staring up at him with exasperation painting your face.

“Eugene! Swim trunks look great.”

Across the room, Eugene extended a lengthy ‘thank you’ and told Daryl that he, too, was looking snazzy, and you knew better than to try and pry Daryl’s attention away. Reluctantly, you turned around and made every effort not to show your present emotions on your face. In truth, you were nervous as fuck wondering what Daryl might do now that he knew you’d faked your climax.

You could try and make it up quick. Minimize the fallout.

The second Eugene departed, and it was just the two of you standing in the kitchen, you shamelessly reached for the outline of Daryl’s dick in his shorts.

Daryl swatted your hand away.

“My penis only goes where it’s appreciated,” he told you quietly, feigning that same stupid smile that signaled to everyone else who might pass by that things were fine.

They weren’t. Daryl probably hated your guts right now.

His seed was still dripping from your cunt, and you longed for the feeling of having him inside you, whole. But you got the sense that that wasn’t happening any time soon, as Daryl promptly greeted two more familiar faces and obliged you to mingle too. You faced Rosita and Abraham with a thinly veiled look of despair, and you gathered that the former picked up on it pretty fast.

“What’s up?” Rosita asked, pulling you to the side while Daryl and Abe chatted.

“I fucked up bad, like— legitimately screwed the pooch.”

“What did you do?”

You pursed your lips and felt the burn of Daryl’s glare over Rosita’s shoulder, sensing then that you’d probably be better off just keeping your mouth shut.

Hurriedly, you said under your breath,

“IfakedanorgasmandDaryl’sreallymad.”

“Daryl’s mad at what? Why?” Rosita said, shrill as ever.

You wanted to clamp your hand over her mouth, but it was too late. Daryl was quick to find your form lingering on his periphery and took your waist in one arm in a lasso-like motion. You guessed you’d be taken off to the slaughter any minute now—which was just getting chewed out by Daryl or given a half-dozen grumpy looks. You almost would’ve preferred the knife to the throat.

Confirming your worst fears, Daryl raised a beer with Abraham and suggested you all go for a swim.

That sounded like a setup if you’d ever heard one.

Perhaps overwrought with paranoia and a few too many Twisted Teas, you found your feet shuffling as slow as you could toward the thick sliding doors and Rosita at your rear asking what the hell was going on.

You made a big, fat ‘O’ with your hands and shook your head, hoping she’d understand—and Daryl wouldn’t see. It turned out neither of your wishes were to come true in that moment, and your boyfriend only pulled you closer to his side while the four of you strolled outside.

“Real mature,” he muttered.

“You’re one to talk,” you retorted.

“Could we please talk at a level most humans can hear?”

That last interjection was Eugene, sidling up to the group with his floaties already strapped to his biceps. You eyed the man, then his beer, then his bright red flotation devices, and hoped like hell Daryl wasn’t about to start playing drunk trivia now that your genius friend was plastered. Or worse yet, encourage him to swim.

“How many lies does the average woman tell in her life?”

You really needed to start keeping your hopes and dreams to yourself. You glared at Daryl.

Eugene was already devising some half-baked formula in his brain, or else retrieving another far-removed factoid that he’d learned on a game show in 2005, and presently answered Daryl’s question with a quirk of his brow.

“I…can’t say it’s a gender-dependent question, my friend. If I were to make an educated guess I’d give—”

“A million more for men,” Rosita interrupted, flashing a wry smile at Abraham, “Most men lie like they breathe.”

“Amen!” Carol called from the tiki bar. You loved and you hated Alexandria’s grown-up parties sometimes.

“Well maybe— maybe men lie more to get sex, but women lie about sex.” Daryl shot the most conspicuous look in your direction, and you’re fairly certain Rick and Michonne shared a look of, ‘Ah shit,’ simultaneously.

Inside, the two were secretly hoping they’d catch wind from the babysitter that Judith and RJ wanted to be picked up, or else learned that a horde of walkers had laid siege on one of the outer-facing walls, because they knew from experience that these fights never ended well. The last time you and Daryl ticked each other off in public there had come a very loud and very obnoxious karaoke rendition of Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Silver Springs’ sung drunkenly between the two of you, and frankly, no one at the party wanted to see a repeat of that.

You wrested your arm out of Daryl’s hold and took a seat opposite Carol at the bar. Nodding when she offered to pour you some tropical concoction with a lot of rum, then pretending not to see Sasha eye Daryl warily.

“Whiskey dick give him trouble?” she murmured to you.

“You say his brother’s name in bed?” Rosita quipped.

“First off, he’s dead,” you said, before dropping your voice to a whisper, “Second, it wasn’t the whiskey or anything, I just…couldn’t cum, so I faked it. That’s it!”

You figured if Daryl was airing out your dirty laundry for the whole group to hear, you might as well beat him to the punch when it came to your closest friends. You could tell Sasha was trying hard not to smirk.

“That’s…that’s it?” she reiterated.

“Just now,” you mumbled, “Don’t tell Rick and Michonne, but we were holed up in the bathroom an—”

“Anyway, okay, no details but you told a little lie, so what?” Sasha proceeded without a hitch.

Carol waved the margarita she was making in vehement agreement and handed it over to you. Telling you to drink, now, with her eyes as soon as she caught a glimpse of Daryl’s disgruntled expression across the way.

“Yeah, so what? You told a fib to keep his ego intact, what’s the harm?”

“I’m saying!” You pointed to her before taking a sip.

“I think honesty is the best policy,” Daryl declared out loud like he’d just discovered the Atlantic.

At his side, Eugene eyed him up and down as if to say, ‘What the fuck are we talking about?’ You surmised that probably only half the group understood what was going on between Daryl and you, but most got the gist that the two of you were beefing. Again. Carol proceeded to drain her piña colada like her life depended on it, and Abraham and Rick suddenly gained interest in something inside.

Daryl wasn’t backing down. In fact, he raised his voice.

“And if she’s willin’ ta lie once, who knows how many other times she—”

“Be fucking for real,” you rolled your eyes, “I wasn’t faking most other times, and you know it.”

“Most times? So ya did it other times?”

“Folks, I cannot say with utmost certainty that this is a healthy coping mechanism for a relationship like y—”

“Shut up, Eugene.”

You could tell just how incensed Daryl was by the color of his cheeks. In a world that almost never raised the hue above a baby pink, you were alarmed to see him turn a shade or two shy of crimson. You knew something lewd or unkind was likely to flare behind those cobalt eyes any second now.

“How many times for Spencer, then?” Daryl growled.

He knew that shit was off-limits. A happenstance situationship that started and ended long before you’d ever dated Daryl. Now he was just being mean.

“Alright, guys, how about we take a second to cool off?” Michonne was using the same voice she assumed whenever trying to talk Judith or RJ out of a cranky mood. You saw Daryl already had the insolent pout of the children down pat, that was for sure.

“Maybe if you’d asked Leah she would’ve said the same,” you spat.

Daryl abandoned his beer and moved closer to you, just narrowly checked by Sasha’s warning touch and even more persuasive gaze. He paused for a second, crinkled his nose, and seemed to be considering something a moment or two longer before finally deciding to be petty.

“At least I didn’t have to ask Leah to swallow.”

That was it. You reared back and chucked your bright pink strawberry marg directly at Daryl’s head, unleashing a string of unsavory names as you did so. Daryl easily side-stepped, and the next in line to receive the airborne drink was Eugene. Completely defenseless, per usual, and not at all prepared to be hit in the face by a plastic glass filled with syrup, liquor, and slush, the man was a sitting duck.

He shrieked the second it struck him below the eyebrow. His hand clamped over his eye, and he stumbled back a few steps.

“Eugene!” came more than one voice, including your own.

The mulleted man wailed and spun perilously on his heels, trying blindly to make a beeline for the house but ending up walking straight into the pool ahead of him. Your whole party jumped to their feet and scrambled after him.

Apart from the aid of his arm floaties, the man was completely unable to swim—and still blinking fiercely through a sheet of strawberry-flavored ice as he flailed about in the water and cried for help.

Sasha, Rosita, Michonne, and Daryl didn’t hesitate; all four dove head first into the pool to save their friend.

Two hours had passed, and you and Daryl were still in time-out—courtesy of Carol and Michonne.

Deprived of your right to drink, smoke, fight, or fuck (at least not with condoms), you and your boyfriend had been placed in indefinite non-solitary confinement sitting perched outside the hot tub with instructions to make up, or else. So far, no words had passed between the two of you, and it had just started to rain.

Daryl waved to the kitchen window, where Carol was watching you both with narrowed eyes.

“Can we come inside now?” he groaned, motioning to the storm clouds overhead.

Carol gave him one emphatic thumbs down and turned to stir her broth on the stove.

This was your group-imposed “getting along” punishment: stay outside until you make amends. You kicked your feet in the bubbling water and cursed yourself for ever thinking it was a wise idea to stroke a man’s ego and fake an orgasm in the first place.

Then you lowered yourself into the water, seeing as there was not much else to do.

“Ya tryna be human stew? Get out,” Daryl snapped.

“Great, maybe Carol can throw me in her soup and I won’t have to continue this stupid fucking conversation.” You knew the dangers of swimming in a rainstorm, but you didn’t want to give Daryl the satisfaction of knowing you’d stop for his sake. You sank deeper into the hot tub.

Daryl slid across the wet slab of rock and concrete and reached for your shoulder.

“Quit bein’ difficult.”

“Quit being pushy,” you said with an ineffectual splash in his direction. His fingertips still seared hot on your skin as he touched you just above the shoulder blade.

“Oh, was I also bein’ pushy—” Daryl cut himself short.

You looked up, curious. Still refusing to budge.

“Pushy when?”

“When you took your pretty ass outta this tub before you got struck by lightning.”

Daryl received an unamused scowl in return. When you pressed again, he bent down and took you underneath both armpits, hauling you out of the hot tub with infuriating ease.

“Or when I…wanted to have sex and you clearly didn’t.”

Ouch. You jumped back in the water with an even deeper frown.

“I still wanted to have sex, Daryl! I just couldn’t get off as quick as you.”

“So you lied.”

You hastened to the other side of the mini pool when Daryl climbed inside. Your back flattened on the rock, and your eyes shot him a critical look as if to say, ‘I ain’t coming out.’

“Technically, you never asked,” you shrugged.

Daryl scoffed and straightened his own posture on the opposite end of the hot tub, feigning amusement but likely inflamed with irritation inside.

“I touched— I rubbed your pussy to see if you were sensitive. Don’t that mean somethin’?”

“Means you didn’t ask me shit. I never said I came.” You folded your arms across your chest in defiance, but deep down, you knew that a lie by omission was still a lie. Daryl’s facial expression communicated as much as he swam in your direction.

“So you couldn’t…ask me to wait a little longer to help you finish?” Daryl approached you close enough to graze your knees, so you felt obliged to press yourself harder against the wall, “Ya know I’d eat the cum out yer pussy if I knew it’d get ya off, sweetheart.”

Indeed, you knew. You should’ve known better than to accuse him of selfishness or inadequate communication—Daryl was a generous lover, and one who was always willing to wait, whether that meant delaying his climax or putting a pause on sex altogether. You felt an unlikely shiver in the boiling hot water when your boyfriend’s frame slipped between your legs beneath the surface.

“Even if I’d finished first, ya know I’d lick ya clean and make that pretty pussy cum all over my face an’ fingers. Ya do know tha’, right?”

He wanted to hear you say it. His hands had just started to trail a slow course up your legs as you released a shaky breath and nodded your head.

“I know, baby, I just— I just like seeing how riled up and sweaty you get when you fuck me for a quickie. You always seem so…satisfied pulling out I just hate to make you get hard all over again on my account.” Your voice was quieter then, breaking off in the gentlest whimper when Daryl’s knuckles grazed your heat.

Then, with the other hand, he moved your fingers to feel how hard he was under his swim trunks.

“Thought ya knew me better’n tha’,” he tsked you softly as he rubbed your hand up and down the length of his clothed erection, “I’m always hard fer ya, honey.”

You swallowed and sighed the second you felt him throb in your hand underwater. You wanted him now.

When your fingers fumbled for the drawstring of his shorts, however, Daryl nudged your touch away. Brought his own to the bottom of the bright green bikini you were wearing and slipped a digit underneath the fabric.

“This poor little clit,” he lamented, circling just lightly enough to draw breathy mewls from your mouth.

You spread your legs even wider to allow him access. When he pulled you to his chest, you felt his heart thrumming as fast as yours was. The light drizzle of rain overhead was growing heavier by the second.

This was not the makeup session Carol or Michonne had envisioned when they’d sent the two of you off to talk. You and Daryl just happened to make amends a little differently than most—semi-publicly, sometimes.

“Can’t imagine how bad it’s been achin’ since I last fucked that pretty little hole,” Daryl continued, index and middle finger now rubbing lazy circles over the spot where he’d pried your bikini to the side.

You sat, spread eagle with your mouth ajar and your eyes on his. Oh, how he loved you like this: partly supine and looking so pathetic. His fingers worked even faster.

“Been needin’ daddy’s touch, has it?” he teased before moving his digits to your slick entrance. Then, pressing just a finger inside and feeling your walls instinctively contract, “Now tha’s a believable squeeze.”

He smiled and you realized he knew a real clench from a fake one by now. That dramatized show you’d put on for him earlier almost made you feel ashamed now, gathering just how good a proper fingerfucking felt when you actually gave your boyfriend the chance to try.

He pushed another finger inside and curled them both with expert precision. You let out a helpless moan the second he grazed your g-spot.

“Baby, I need it,” you whimpered, “I need to cum so, so badly.”

Daryl nodded as though feeling your pleasure—and pain. He worked a vicious rhythm against your cunt and let a smile spread across his lips the longer he watched you writhe and moan amidst the hot, churning waters. When your stomach started to flutter and your entrance gave a warning pulse, you didn’t even need to inform him of your impending climax; you closed your eyes and prepared for the sweet bliss in expectant silence.

That was, until, Daryl retracted his fingers and climbed out of the hot tub.

Sorely misled ecstasy withered before your eyes.

You whined. Louder than you meant to.

“Daryl!”

Your boyfriend had taken up a spot standing at the side of the hot tub, pretending to be so overcome with heat exhaustion that he just couldn’t stay in a second longer.

He wiped his brow and watched you smugly.

“You say sumn’, sugar?” he asked as he sat down on the water’s edge to plant a kiss at the top of your head.

“You’re sick,” you muttered, dodging any additional condescending smooches by scooting over. When Daryl slowly leaned down toward the water, you scowled.

Then he patted the wet slab of concrete beside him.

“Jus’ want you to cum on my tongue. C’mon.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world—clearly he couldn’t eat you out underwater, so he was just being kind to give you a place to sit while he tonguefucked you silly.

You pretended not to notice the smirk twisting at the corners of his lips as you climbed out of the hot tub and reluctantly followed his motions.

Your legs spread just a little, now perched at the edge of the sauna while Daryl sank back in the water and positioned his head perfectly with your core. A sidelong glance to the nearest window showed that Carol had disappeared from the kitchen, but you knew you would have to make this quick.

Without ceremony, you yanked a tuft of Daryl’s wet hair and guided his face even closer to your heat. Far past the point of pleasantries, you pulled your bathing suit to the side and presented yourself, bare as ever, to Daryl’s eager tongue and lips.

Your boyfriend supplied you with both in an instant, dragging his tongue up the whole length of your slit with a groan. Wanting to savor the taste, were it not for your quiet pleas for him to finish this, please, Carol could be back any minute.

Daryl lapped between your folds, happy as ever, and left a series of suctioned kisses on the spots where he knew you needed him most. Gripped your thighs in either hand, pulled your bottoms so far he almost snapped the fabric in half, and practically devoured that needy cunt.

The man was a pussy-eating prodigy, to put it mildly. He dove deep between your thighs like oxygen was the furthest thing from his mind and sucked on your clit as if it were a lifeline. Your back arched out of instinct, legs clamping on either side of his head and chest rising and falling in stuttered breaths. You moaned and felt Daryl’s own grunts join the reverberations shaking your body; for a second, you thought you were almost seeing stars.

When Daryl inserted two fingers and swirled his tongue around that sensitive nub, you were certain that moment was soon to come.

“Mmm, just like that, baby, fuck,” you breathed, rutting your hips ever slightly against his face. Daryl, soaked with your arousal and waves of scalding water, just held his place and kept licking over, and over, and over.

Your grip fastened harsher in his hair the second a pleasant coil pulled tight along your tummy. You planted your calves on either side of Daryl’s neck, braced your body to the concrete, and felt a heady bliss make its second appearance of the night.

A quiet slurp marked the sudden disconnect between Daryl’s mouth and your aching core. You almost fell off the edge of the hot tub as your mind and body both stopped devastatingly short of full climax. This time, you almost shrieked.

“DARYL!”

“Got a tongue cramp. Sorry.”

Too bad he was grinning from ear-to-ear with no trace of a muscle spasm anywhere on his face. You splashed him with a massive wave and went scrambling to your feet.

“Fuck this. I’ve got a vibrator at home.” You were already pulling your panties back in place, muttering some less-than kind words under your breath, and kicking yourself twice for ever believing Daryl was mature enough to treat this as anything other than a game.

“Hey! Baby, wait!” Daryl called after you. Then he was getting up and getting out too.

“You blame me for fucking around, and you— you go and pull some shit like this?!”

You waved a silent, dismissive hand when Daryl started after you, trailing hot on your heels with a look that almost would’ve seemed apologetic had he not been fighting a laugh the entire time.

When his hands landed on your shoulders from behind, you moved to shrug him off and told him, with a finger supplanting your words, to get fucked. You groaned internally when Daryl pulled you in for a tight embrace.

“It’s called edging, sweetheart,” he hummed in your ear.

“It’s called being an asshole and shutting my orgasms down on purpose.” You wriggled to free yourself from his arms but found the man behind you unwilling to cooperate; in fact, the more you struggled, the more snug his grasp got. You battled against his far superior strength no longer than a minute or two before Daryl plucked you right off your feet and into a bridal hold.

“What do we say when we really wanna cum?” he asked, almost patronizing. Then, as if to put a finer point on it, he ambled toward the edge of the pool and swayed your soft, soaking frame over it.

“You’re fucking crazy!” you hissed, still wrestling against his chest.

You sensed that might not have been the wisest choice of words given your current predicament, but Daryl didn’t seem fazed in the slightest.

“Did I hear a ‘please’ in there?” he asked, rocking you back and forth over the water’s edge.

“Please put me down.” Your voice was low and importunate, eyes warning him just the same.

“O-kay.”

And down you went. Into the pool. Your boyfriend still cradling you in his arms while you thrashed and splashed and called him every profane name in the book.

You’d just swept the wet mass of hair from your forehead when Daryl pinned you to the wall. Your back was flush to his chest, and his breath was hot on your ear.

“Promise y’ain’t gonna fake it this time?” Daryl murmured through gritted teeth, one hand yanking your swimsuit bottoms to the side and the other pulling his own down his hips.

You gripped the side of the pool and cast a quick look to the kitchen. Carol was nowhere in sight, but who knew how much longer she—and everyone else—would be gone? You bit your lip when Daryl dragged the head of his cock between your legs.

“We can’t do this, Dar—”

“I said, are you gonna fake it? Pretty simple question.”

Your folds had already parted with his length in between them, hole pleading for his entry when all he had done was rut his hips in place and tease your slit. You pressed your ass right into him and tried hard not to whine as you sensed your cover could be blown at any moment. Daryl nipped at the skin behind your ear and repeated his question, this time enveloping your frame with his when he bent you over the side of the pool.

Your eyes flickered to the warm glow of the kitchen, and you felt the rain come down even harder—your vision, with the distance and the downpour, was almost totally obscured.

Fuck it.

“Promise I won’t— I swear.” Your voice now scarcely above a whisper.

That seemed to satisfy Daryl well enough. No more than a second later, he was plowing inside you, gripping your hip for support and your hand in his own for what seemed to be encouragement of sorts. You squeezed his fingers back as soon as the first influx of pleasure rolled through you.

“Quiet, quiet for me, baby,” Daryl warned close to your ear, gaze scanning the house for any new onlookers, “Jus’ stay. fuckin’. quiet.”

He wasted no time railing you from behind—an impressive feat for a man standing halfway underwater—and simultaneously kept a lookout for your friends inside. Before him, you’d folded like a lawn chair over the wet concrete, yielding to each thrust like you were born for this position and made to take his cock. Then your walls clenched around him, whimpers came loud and fast, and the rain beat a shrill cadence all around.

Daryl dropped a hand to your clit and smiled the second you whined and almost bucked him off. Finally, that sweet sensitivity was back.

He knew from two false starts and more hard edging than you ever would have liked to endure, you wouldn’t last long. You felt a pressure on your neck bringing you up to his chest and those same, ardent lips almost charring your skin when they pressed above your ear:

“Who’s a good girl?”

Another sharp thrust in your cunt.

“I am,” you cried, clawing at his wrist the second his fingers started tightening around your throat. Almost unable to bear it, but loving it all the same.

“Gonna be honest with daddy ‘bout those orgasms?” Daryl chided, “Make a mess of daddy’s cock like yer s’posed’a?”

You nodded as best you could with your throat trapped in his hold and your lips damn near turning blue the second he got to kissing them. Your back arched into his chest, and your body convulsed with pleasure the deeper he went. Daryl loved the way you watched him as he did.

That was what he’d missed. That was what he knew you couldn’t muster in your piss-poor performances of late, what had tipped him off to the truth of your euphoric state with times like today. This was what he needed to see every time he fucked you from now on—if he had to spend a lifetime or two trying to get you there, so be it.

Daryl caught your lips in a long, heated kiss before bottoming out inside you. The sharp nudge to your insides and the brush against your most delicate spot was more than enough to push you over the edge.

Bliss broke through your body like a bat out of hell, and your moans rang loud in Daryl’s mouth as he fucked you through it. And, sadistic motherfucker that he was, he actually smiled when your teeth sank through his lip and drew blood from the surface.

All he cared was that you came, no bullshit this time.

As a metallic tang and an ecstatic trance washed over you, your body went limp in Daryl’s arms. He pulled out, still hard, and rubbed a hand over your ass underwater.

You could feel him beaming with pride right behind you.

But, just when he moved to turn you around, a sight in the bushes sent your heart in your throat. One dark patch of foliage shook with unusual force a few yards away, and you heard some sticks break as someone, shielded by leaves, appeared to lose their balance.

Daryl’s grip on you locked, then tightened, then dropped altogether when a clumsy form came tumbling out.

“EUGENE!”

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon one shot #daryl dixon imagine #daryl x reader #the walking dead #twd daryl #twd fanfiction #twd imagine #smut

[feral4daryl]

yes i'm sharing more of AI daryl/norman bc we all need this!!

and no i wont ever stop tying him up bc ummm why the hell not??? ik im horny im sorry but i mean, can you blame me?? ughhhhh he's just too hot for his own good. i can't decide if i want him on top or under me 😫😫😫😫 maybe there will be a day when i stop simping for daryl but it wont be today so i might as well just embrace my horniness

once again, these pics are ALL made with an ai image generator and they are NOT real!!

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl #daryl drabble #murphy macmanus smut #daryl dixon imagine #daryl twd #daryl #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon one shot #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl x you #daryl x reader #daryl smut #daryl dixon smut #norman reedus #norman reedus smut #norman reedus x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl fanfiction #daryl imagines

[darylsfavoritegirl]

SUMMARY: fem!reader gets sick after the events of terminus and daryl takes care of her!!

this was requested by @welcumetomyescape thank you for the idea once again!!!

A/N: this could've been a lot longer than this i just got really impatient because i finished early at school today so i was very much eager to write this. i hope you enjoy it and it satisfies the person who requested it!!!

You coughed for the millionth time, seeking your hand to cover your mouth as you leered through your brows at the crowd infront of you.

Your raspy cough caught Michonne's attention as she turned her head lightly to your side, her hands loose on her sides due to thirst and hunger.

"You alright over there?" She worried.

"Ahem." You made it out through your chapped, sore lips and moist eyes as you simply nodded. You scrutinized your surroundings, goosebumps swarming through your entire body in contrast to the heat of the south. You were left behind from the others, leisurely dragging your feet along as you hoped you'd make through the day until you'd find a roof to sleep under.

Michonne turned her head down, observing her shoes as the group halted on the side of a road and you thanked the one who suggested it.

You didn't bother to check to see what they were up to as you collapsed to a pavement, your palm reaching the paving stones eased your fall. You placed your elbows on your knees, your left palm massaging your forehead wretchedly.

You spotted Daryl's boots drawing near you from your semi-shut eyes. You raised your head, feeling dazed due to holding your head high too much. You lowered your head as he knelt down infront of you, grabbing your kness softly to get strength for his position.

You observed his face, dark circles shaping under his eyes and were you so sure you had them, too.

"You look awful." You joked with a withered voice escaping your mouth.

A pityful smile tugged on his lips as he lingered his eyes through your soul. He had been perceiving you all day long, how you'd grown more tired with each passing hour, how you'd been burning up; yet resisting it with the very less brittle power left in your body.

He lowered his head

"Brough' ya water." and passed you a bottle of water that was on his pocket.

"Save it for Judith." You spoke low, putting your hand on the water bottle to push it away as you eyed the others from the corner of your eye.

"She dun' need water."

"She need' formula."

"Sum' damn baby food."

He uttered in a deflated tone. He broke the eye contact, behelding the woods as he kept resting his hands on your knees.

"Plus, yer burnin' up." He shifted his gaze to you with heavy-lidded eyes.

"I'll get through this, too." You assured him, putting a constrained smile upon your face.

"Like hell ya ar'." He disdained as he heaved out a long sigh. He got up, looking down at you.

"Don't make a fuss about it." You hissed under your breath, making sure no one else heard it. A brief silence passed like a decade as you glared at him with stern eyes. His posture didn't shift after all, not taking in to process anything you said. You felt all your boldness flowing away as he didn't seem to give your words a second thought.

"Screw you." You bellowed in a tone above whisper when your hands met on your lap, drawing your knees to your chest as you looked away.

"I'ma talk ta Rick." He grunted, maintaining the eye contact he just forced you.

"And then what?"

"There 's gotta be sum' cabin I know of 'round here." He uttered, scrutinizing the area with his smokey eyes.

"I'm not so sure... After all that cannibal sensation." you huffed as you started scribbling the ground with a damp twig. Your whole journey was about this, escaping the what so-called safe sanctuary terminus.

"We got real far off." He shrugged his shoulders, the water bottle swinging on his fingertips as he eyeballed the others. His eyes met with yours.

You simply heaved a sigh, whimpering under your breath to the unbearable aches on your joints and entire body. You lifted your head, not uttering a word. You were very well aware of your condition, sweat beading your neck mixed with dirt repulsed you with nausea.

"I ain't jus' gonna sit 'ere and watch yea torture yerself." He stated with furrowed brows. You, once again remained silent as you lowered your head at your doodles covering the soil.

A part of you would give worlds to stick to one place with roofs and a tender bed with pillows for a while, yet it wasn't the time nor the place to mull over for such self-centered ideas.

You ran your fingers through your hair as you hunched your shoulders. You refused to gaze at him, though you felt his penetrating gaze sticking through you.

"Tha' wound ain't gon' heal itself, neither." He mumbled, resting his body weight on his left leg.

"It's just grazed me." You shrugged your shoulders, embracing your legs even thightly with your left arm. You wished to be as small as possible, as invisible as possible.

He stood there with complete silence briefly, seeing that you weren't lifting your head even an inch to meet with his gaze nor saying anything else, he left you there. You heard him exhaling abruptly.

You observed him approaching Rick from the corner of your eyes as you shook your head in apace as if it'd heal your maddening migraine. You screwed your eyes shut, resting your forehead on your knees as you gradually let go off your clutch on the twig.

All you could hear was your shallow breaths along with the muffled conversations from your people that wind carried all the way to you.

You opened your eyes. It was almost like your wide-eyed gaze gave you your five senses back. You were suddenly sweating buckets, though sane part of your mind notioned it was like that all along. You leered at the center of your shorts zip and your hair obstructing a clear view when you heard shallow footsteps drawing near you.

You raised your head, saw Rick looking down at you with his hands on his waist.

"Damn, you look awful." He exclaimed in a raspy voice owing to thirst.

You failed to find strength in responding back so you stayed put, waiting for him to talk again. You sighed as you spoke

"It isn't safe."

You noticed Daryl rolling his eyes lightly as he shifted his position.

"You got Daryl." Rick remarked with self-confidence.

You slouched your posture, locking your eyes on the opposide direction.

"C'mon." Daryl grunted as he reached his arm to grip you by the biceps.

"I can't." You breathed out as you shook your head and gave him a stern glare.

A brief silence as no one said a word.

"Y'ain't gon' do nothin' but slow 'em down." He growled, getting looks from the group, some of them you'd just met a few days ago.

"Come on y/n. Daryl's right." Rick mumbled, inattentiveness bearing his features.

"I got it." Daryl huffed under his breath to Rick.

Daryl clucthed you by the biceps with his firm grip as he held his other hand close to your waist.

You couldn't comprehend how sitting down for 5 minutes had an unbelievable impact on your body as you almost toppled over him. Your legs were practically useless as Daryl caught you by the waist and lingered through you with his smokey eyes. You leered back at him through your lashes, failing to find the might to speak.

"We'll catch up with you all in a few days." You mumbled as you turned your body towards them, your right hand was over his shoulder, he held your hand securely.

"Well, don't you look like shit." A new bulky ginger guy called Abraham uttered, sniggering under his long ginger mustache.

"I've heard that many times today." You forced a smile as you narrowed your eyes at Michonne and Rick friskfully. He scoffed tauntingly with his girlfriend.

"Ain't yea a chatter now?" Daryl quipped low, not loosening his grip on your hands as Rick approached you. You rolled your eyes, craving nothing but to spend atleast a day in a safe cabin.

Your hair danced with the breeze as you tucked strands of it behind your ear. Rick started walking to your direction as he passed you a pistol, giving you an assurring look then shifted his attention to Daryl.

They exchanged silent agreements by nodding their heads consecutively. A sense of safeness washed all over you.

"Can ya walk?" He inquired with cautious eyes incase you'd lie.

"I'm fine." You whined as you started walking toward the woods, peeking a glance at the others for the last time.

You strolled through the woods, then a hilly, then a road. Your head felt like exploding at the heat, sweating buckets hence leaving your body sticky.

Your undertaking of not letting out moans due to your pain grew to fell short swiftly.

"Where is this cabin, Daryl?" You puffed sharply as you halted in the middle of the road.

"Ain't so far." He lifted his shoulders, scanning the area.

"Can we stop for a minute?" You asked, glancing through your brows as you put all your effort to maintain your heaving chest.

He clattered a sound to indicate it was ok. You tossed your backpack to the ground as you sat down on the warm surface.

Your placed your hands on your knees as you observed the area.

"Should'n be out in the open like dis." He spoke, lifting his brows to scrutinize his surroundings with a wrinkly forehead.

You kept quite as your head sagged on your shoulders out of lassitude. You squeezed your eyes.

"Hey hey, stay wit' me." He rushed next to you, taking out a water bottle out of his backpack.

"Need yea ta stay hydrated." He muttered as he cupped your neck softly. He passed the water bottle near your lips, almost forcing you to drink. You heaved a sigh and wiped your mouth with your thumb.

"Gon' cook ya up a nice squirrel or sumthin' once we get there." He joked.

You creased your brows and painted a smile on your lips.

"I'm good with anything as long as it's not a snake." You uttered tauntingly. A sense of darkness hovered his features as if he was insulted and it passed within seconds. You sat like that for quite a long time.

Your flu got worse by the time you got to the cabin. Plus, it was almost like you were at the brink of a seizure with your wound on your leg. Daryl had to carry you all the way down to the cabin, safe to say you were slowing him down.

Your bottom lip trembled as he put you on the bed, tucking the hair behind your ear that was soaked with your sweat. Your eyes were heavy-lidded, seeing only a blurry view infront of you.

His eyes darkened as he observed you with concerning eyes. He knelt down on the wooden floor, opened the backpack's zip in a rush and took out the rain water he stocked earlier that day. Thankful thoughts lined in your head to the rain, your friends most likely had benefited from it aswell.

He got up and placed the jar on the broken table. He scanned the cabin in a flustered manner as he patted his hands on his denim jeans.

Daryl made his way to the thin sheets laying on the floor and cut a piece of cloth and rushed back over to you. Your gaze followed his every move.

"Dis ain't gun' do much."

"Still, better than nothin' " He spoke to himself as he inserted the cloth into the jar, making sure it absorbed the liquid equally.

You looked over him, your eyes fighting to hide behind the lids. You swallowed dryly as he came near you. Water droplets were sliding down his forearm to his elbows and to the floor. Goosebumps flooded through your entire being as some of them hit your skin.

He pushed your baby hairs aside, placing the soaked cloth on top of your forehead. He gazed upon you, then your clothes and how incompetently you tried to cover yourself up.

"That ain't gon' fly." He huffed as he pushed the covers aside.

"I'm cold." You whined, eyes semi-shut. You weren't aware of your surroundings, condition and Daryl being with you. You tried to grab the covers to your chest.

"Yer burnin' up." He grunted as if to correct you.

A moment of bickering passed with him persuading you.

"Might wanna lose the shirt, too." He spoke.

You whined once again as he didn't let you utter a word. He grabbed the hem of your shirt as your fixed your posture, the cloth on your forehead fell on your lap. He grabbed it and tossed it on the table.

"Sit up." He stated.

You got strength by your knuckles from the mattres. The bed sinked under your weight as he pushed the table aside. You raised your arms up high as he took off your shirt and helped you lay on your back. Your teeth chattered as you rubbed your arms on your biceps. A wash of despair washed all over him as he felt useless, that he couldn't do more.

He observed you for a while, contemplating what more he could do. He then, made his way to the end of the bed and started taking out your boots. He held you softly by the leg and tossed them to the ground. A groan of relief escaped your chest.

You raised your head lightly, getting strength from your elbows and chuckled at the scene.

"What a caretaker you are?" You joked as your head fell back.

He mumbled a "Stop." as he came next to you, a subtle smirk tugging on the corner of his lips at your teasing words.

He put the cloth in the jar and let it sink to absorb more water. His attention shifted to you as he sat on the edge of the bed. One could sense that he was in a huge dilemma, that he wasn't completely sure which course of action to take.

You swallowed dryly once again. He reached for your hair, your eyes widened at him. He clattered an "Sssh." between his lips without looking at anywhere else besides your hair. You had to lift your head for a brief moment. With stiff and an upright neck, did he grab all of your hair in his fist and spread them on all over the pillow. Your hair was no longer sticking to your back and neck and you sighed in relief at the feeling.

You lied down as you crossed your hands together on your stomach. You peeked at him with weary eyes, so did he. His attention spaced out to the wall as you uttered after observing him all the way down.

"Help me sit up?" He turned to you, immediatly grabbing your torso with his big hands and helping you sit up without questioning. He couldn't help but ponder in his head how you'd heal more quickly if you didn't try to be the tough one once.

Your fingers digged his bare shoulders as you groaned out of pain. You raised your head to meet with his gaze. You could sense the hesitation on his features as he looked back and forth between your lips and eyes. Safe to say, his hesitation wasn't because of your sickness but because of your potential reaction. He, then let go as he leaned forward.

"Ew, no. Disgusting." You grimaced as you pushed yourself away from his touch and leaned back on the wall.

You avoided an eye contact as he came closer on the bed, forcing you to look at him. You finally gave in and stared upon him, face rosing with heat.

His hands clutched you by the side of your faces and slowly leaned in for a kiss once again. You didn't pull away this time, letting his balmy lips leaving you overstimulated and shaky. So many thoughts, worries ran through your mind. You didn't want him to get sick if he hadn't already catch it, yet you could never resist his touch, his lips. Your face loosened at the feeling of his body against yours. Your grip on his left wrist fell loose as you breathed out after a short kiss.

He gazed through you for a hot minute before he got up.

"Sleep." He grunted as he grabbed his crossbow that was hanging on a hanger.

"Get sum' rest."

"I'll be in the front." He uttered before leaving the cabin

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[thewalkingthread]

Space - D.D.

daryl's pov

pairing: daryl dixon x reader

summary: things aren't the same between you and daryl.

warnings: sad

a/n: Heard a devastating song on Tiktok and it inspired this little one shot

You can't remember the last time Daryl held you while you slept. Or the last time he whispered sweet nothings into your ear as you drifted off to sleep.

Something shifted in your relationship around the time Michonne left. You chalked it up to him having more responsibility. Daryl's always put a lot of pressure on himself, but it was a lot worse this time around. With Michonne and Rick gone, the people have looked upon the two of your for guidance and leadership. Not to mention taking in RJ and Judith. There was a big shift in your life, but you didn't expect it to create a rift between you and Daryl.

Every night you would laid down on the bed, your body turned to it's side. Your hand always reached out and rested on the empty space that Daryl will occupy much later in the night. You never went to bed at the same time anymore. Typically, you'd go to bed first once the kids were asleep and the house was clean. Daryl would sit outside on the porch, smoking a cigarette or sharpening knives. No matter how tired he was, he'd do anything that make sure you were asleep first before he tiptoed into the bedroom to get ready for bed. Sometimes you'd pretend to be asleep, you've gotten really good at it.

You would lay completely still, keeping your breathes at a calm and slow pace. You'd listen carefully as he hummed to himself in the bathroom, the sound of his toothbrush tapping against the sink, his deep sighs as he examined himself in the mirror. You knew his routine all too well from the years you've been together.

Then he'd slowly sink into the bed, careful not to wake you. It wasn't a sweet gesture of him wanting you to rest and get good sleep. He didn't want to wake you because he didn't want to talk to you, he didn't want to argue.

Just like clock work, Daryl woke up extra early today. He slipped out of bed before the sun even peaked onto the horizon. The sound of the shower turning on woke you up. You couldn't stop yourself from scooting closer to his side of the bed, pulling his pillow close to you. You close your eyes, trying to imagine it was him you were holding. Your fingers grazed the sheets, hoping it would provide you any sort of resemblance of your lover. It didn't.

The sound of the bathroom door creaking, makes your freeze in your place. The soft pads of his footsteps approach the edge of the bed. You know he's right behind you, you know he's looking down at your "sleeping" body.

You feel his finger graze your skin and you do everything in your power to be still, not to flinch at his touch, not even twitch. Daryl gently moves a strand of hair out of your face. Your heart is racing inside of your chest and you think he might even press a kiss to your head.

All that he does is breathe out a deep sigh before retracting his hand. Your skin, where his calloused hands just were, now exposed to the cold air. His footsteps shift away before disappearing down the hall.

You let out a breathe you didn't realize you were holding and you opened your eyes. The sun just started it's ascent and the room was a soft yellow tint as the light snuck its way through the window.

You wanted to cry.

You wanted to scream.

How did you go from real love to roommates?

You wanted your lover back. You wanted your Daryl back.

You missed the nights when you and Daryl would stay up late talking. You'd sit on the porch, looking up at the stars in the sky. Neither one of you cared if you had to be up early for a watch shift or for a supply run. You'd stay up to talk and spend time with each other because that was the only time you'd be able to.

"Reckon this shit will ever end?"

You glanced up at him before looking back out at the dark sky. You shook your head.

"Don't think so." You mumbled. "But if it weren't for all this shit... I don't think we'd have met."

Daryl let out a grunt, with a small nod of his head. "I suppose that makes it all worth it." He mumbles, pressing his lips to the side of your head. "You make it all worth it."

You grip his pillow close to your chest, letting the tears slip from your eyes.

When did this bed get so wide?

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[nameless-ken]

"Ofc I came for you, it'd take much more than that to stop me." For Daryl, please? :)

Thank you so much for the request! I loved this one! Hope you like it :)

Requests

Masterlist

You’ve been in this situation before except you weren’t alone. You, Daryl, Rick and Glenn were on a run when a hoard of walkers came out of nowhere. You tried to stay with any of the men but lost them in the crowd of zombies trying to eat you. 

You ran off to an abandoned building, finding a way inside and barricading the door as best as you can. You breathe heavily, not just from running but the thought of not making it out alive. You pace around, trying to calm yourself and figure out an escape plan. 

What has Daryl taught you? 

Daryl has been your closest friend since they all welcomed you into their wonderful but chaotic family. He’s always sitting there, quiet as a mouse, but with the most knowledge on how to protect yourself. 

He didn’t take a liking to you at first, mostly because who can you really trust nowadays? But eventually he warmed up to you. You stayed up with him through the rough nights and early morning guard duties. He taught you how to use his crossbow and how to properly shoot a gun. 

He’s been your protector ever since. Until now, you’re stuck, all alone. 

You look around the abandoned, rundown shop, seeing if there is anything that will help you get out but it’s all empty. Not a single thing but broken down shelves and trash scattered around. 

You press a hand to your chest as you back away slowly from the loud bangs on the door. The noise overtakes your ears and you feel your chest heaving. You slide down against the wall at the far end, cradling your knees to your chest with fresh, hot tears pouring down your cheeks. 

You know this is how it’s going to end, one way or another. There’s no avoiding it. You just weren’t prepared for it to happen today. 

You and Daryl made a pact that if one of you goes, you both do. You cry to yourself for losing him in that crowd. He’s probably cursing your name right now for not sticking by his side. You hate this feeling in your chest, like your heart is going to explode with the grief overpowering your body. Of all the times he’s gone out on runs without you, promising to come back safe, you never appreciated it as much as you would now. 

Your sobs break through, giving up on being quiet. You collapse on the floor in the fetal position, tears continually streaming from your eyes. You’ve never felt so defeated and alone. Even when this all began. You bounced around from various groups, never getting too attached to anyone until you arrived at the prison. 

Just as your eyes close, feeling too weighted, something touches you. You sit up quickly, backing away as fast as you can. You reach down, feeling around for your knife but nothing is there. 

“Hey, hey. It’s just me. It’s just me.” Your vision clears. Daryl crouches in front of you, blood and dirt covering him. “Come on, we gotta get out ‘ere.” 

You feel like you’re in a dream. There’s no way he made it through that hoard of walkers. 

“Y-You’re h-here.” You sniffle, staring at him like he’s a ghost. 

“Yeah. I’m ‘ere.” He grabs your hands in his, helping you stand to your feet. You stumble slightly, catching your breath. 

“You came back for me.” You mumble, holding onto him tightly. He lifts your weak body up, carrying you in his arms. 

“Of course I came for you, it’d take much more than that to stop me.” Daryl carries you out of the building, running once you’re back out in the sun. You look around, walker bodies scattered around on the ground. 

Daryl makes it to the car where Rick and Glenn are waiting. He sets you down before sliding in next to you. Glenn takes off driving. 

“You alright Y/N?” Rick looks back at you with a relieved expression. You nod, shaking a little bit. 

Daryl reaches over, resting his hand over yours. You look over at him, scooting over to lay your head against his shoulder. You intertwined your fingers with his, squeezing his hand. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead as you close your eyes. 

“It’s either both of us or none of us.”

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[angelbreak]

Lost

Summary: Daryl takes Layla into the woods. She's convinced they're lost, he proves they aren't. Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Layla (female!oc) Pov: Layla Setting: Alexandria | pre-commonwealth Rating: All ages Warnings: slight gore? pretty much just fluff. Word count: 948

"Dixon, just admit we're lost." I sighed as I slumped against a tree and Daryl kept quiet as per usual. I tapped my feet against the ground as he glanced around, "Can I just fire a flare so Rick can find us or are you gonna continue to be stubborn?"

"We ain't lost," he grumbled as he looked at the leaves on the ground and the twigs snapped under his feet slightly as he began walking away.

With a huff, I pushed off the tree and followed behind him before mumbling, "Guess it's the latter then."

He didn't say anything in response, only held his crossbow close to his body as we wandered through the woods and I followed him blindly. We were supposed to be back at Alexandria by now and the sun was going to start setting soon meaning the walkers would appear soon after. I hadn't been prepared to be away from home this long and I was growing impatient.

After another 5 minutes of creeping behind Daryl and wondering where we were headed, I once again asked, "Can I fire the flare gun yet?"

I once again got no response and I was growing frustrated with the silent treatment he was giving me, "Dixon!"

"Shut up!" he held his hand up as we came to a clearing in the trees and I looked up to see a small shack ahead of us that I hadn't seen before, "We ain't lost. I was bringing you here."

He walked towards the shack and I noticed a walker near the front door but Daryl had shot it with his crossbow within a blink of an eye. He trudged over to the body, pulling the arrow out and a splatter of blood sprayed onto the door before he carefully opened the door, making sure no one or nothing was inside. I held my switchblade close to my body but I followed after him. Once he cleared the place, he gave me a nod and I closed the blade, sliding it into my pocket as I closed the door we walked in.

"Why did you bring me here?" I asked as I threw my backpack on the floor beside the door as he made sure the back door was locked closed. He motioned for me to follow him as he walked into a small hallway and I did just that. I saw him enter a bedroom to the right of the hallway and I crept in after. He sat down on the edge of the old and dusty bed that looked like it hadn't been used in months.

He pointed towards the corner of the room, "That's why."

I walked towards the corner he pointed to, seeing a stack of novels and art supplies before he continued, "Came here a few weeks ago. Know you like those books and shit but didn't know what to grab."

I smiled to myself as I crouched down, looking at the other novels and the various pencils with sketching paper that looked untouched. I picked up a few of the books as I scanned through them, seeing that they were classics by Jane Austen and J.D. Salinger. I looked at the bottom of the pile, picking up a book I hadn't read in years and my breath caught my throat.

"I used to read this book every night before bed," I mumbled as I ran my hand over the dusty cover to reveal the title of 'Little Women' by Louisa May Alcott, "I didn't know if I'd ever find it again."

"Good thing I got ya here then," he muttered from the bed and I looked up to see him nervously chewing the inside of his cheek. His eyes met mine as I gave him a thankful smile and his mouth twitched into the smallest smile I'd ever seen.

I dropped the book on the floor and looked at the art supplies, seeing a whole pencil case of colouring pencils along with some watercolour paints and paint brushes. As I sifted through the art supplies, I noticed there was a drawing on the ground of a small bird. I picked it up, admiring the work of the artist who was here before me. I placed it back where it was before looking over at the man on the bed to see him chewing the corner of his mouth nervously as he looked at me. I shot up from my spot where I was crouched down and bolted over to him, tackling him into the bed with a hug as he let out a grunt from the impact.

I wrapped my hands around his shoulders as I buried my head into his neck and after tensing for a long while, he relaxed and wrapped his arms around my back as I mumbled, "Thank you, Daryl."

"It's just some books and pencils, blondie." he muttered back, trying to brush off the caring gesture he had made. I pulled my head back to look at his face properly as I shook my head.

"It's more than that and you know it," I whispered with a smile, placing a kiss on his cheek. I didn't miss the way his eyes widened and he tensed ever so slightly but didn't make any effort to push me off. I pulled back to study his reaction only to find surprise and uncertainty with a hint of something unknown in his eyes. My eyes darted from his blue irises to his lips which were parted like he was going to say something, but nothing ever left his lips. Instead of probing him further, I nuzzled my head back into his neck as his breathing slowed and I let myself relax into him, feeling safe for the first time in years.

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[daryldixonswifeyyy]

Need Daryl Dixon Fics

Hey, can someone recommend good Daryl Dixon fanfictons, one shots, head cannons.

I love me some Angst, especially with Daryl being an asshole and feeling guilty, love some of that Shi.

PLEASE IM DESPERATE.

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