#norman reedus fanfic

[feral4daryl]

i don't ever post anything here on tumblr but i really wanted to share this one thing with the world because HEBBRJEVEJWVWHWSSBEEJ

btw these pics are all ai generated!!!

yes................ im ashamed

(i have many more if anyone's interested)

#daryl dixon #norman reedus #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl #daryl drabble #norman reedus smut #norman reedus fanfic #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #norman reedus x reader #twd fanfiction #daryl twd #daryl dixon twd #daryl smut #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl fanfic #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead smut #twd drabbles #twd fanfics #twd imagine #daryl dixon imagine #daryl x you #daryl #daryl fanfiction

[theteasetwrites]

Pay Attention

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: Season 5 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: a bit... suggestive, sexual innuendos if you squint, implied dom Daryl ❧ Word Count: 2.3k

❧ Summary: While Daryl works on his bike, you can't help but pay a little too much attention. Not to his bike, though.

❧ A/N: Hiiii I know this oneshot came out of nowhere, but... yeah. Also thank you to @ivuravix, @okaycocoal, @devnmon, and @weretheones for brainstorming (aka drooling over Norman in that new video of him getting his bike) with me!

As he loosened the sprocket nut, cranking the breaker bar with a strained grunt muffled through tight lips, you watched with a languid gaze, only once in a while mustering a hum or two whenever a gruff voice of velvety sandpaper threatened to tear you from your stupor.

But the words were no more than ambiance, a vague collection of obscure sounds that only provided the score to a dizzying display of skilled, smooth movements, the sight of which you had the distinct fortune of beholding. 

With the clatter of metal hitting the concrete, you blinked and felt your senses return to you for a moment, so those indistinguishable sounds turned into words on his breathy, gravelly voice. 

“Now we got the transmission cover off…” He took a breath as he tugged the faded red rag from the back pocket of his old torn-up jeans, in which you had made various stitchings to patch up the holes with new fabrics. Sitting cross-legged, you tilted your head with a barely noticeable little smile on your lips. He wiped the sweat from his brow, raising his right arm until you could see the faded ink of the tattoo on his inner bicep, exposed by the black sleeveless button-up shirt he wore, with the little loose threads from where he’d cut it still dangling from the torn fabric. 

Now your eyes were glued to that spot, where the taut, lean muscles under his tanned, sweat-shined skin flexed and twitched with each movement as he attempted to wipe the grease from his hands. That poor rag had seen so much―grease, sweat, blood, dirt… You’d tried to get him to use something a little less worn, but he always came back to that old rag. He was stubborn about those kinds of things, or maybe it wasn’t so much stubbornness as sentimentality. It was one of the things you loved about him.

Kneeling as he shook his hair from his face, a few sweaty strands still sticking, he huffed another deep breath. Thank God he was so intently focused on his bike, lest he notice your lack of… attention. Well, you were paying attention, but not to the bike. 

When you said you wanted to help him replace the chain on his motorcycle, you did not anticipate he would give you a step-by-step tutorial on the matter. But that was just him, your Daryl―he had a few things he was particularly interested in, and one of them was mechanics. He’d always be the first to volunteer to prepare the cars for the runs, and he was good at it. It came naturally to him, you always knew that. He once told you that he liked to put things back together again, to fit parts together like puzzle pieces. It only made sense that he would build his own bike, and fix it himself. After all, it was hard to find a professional mechanic these days. 

You didn’t mind. Though you had to admit that you weren’t terribly engrossed, you found it quite endearing, his passion as he narrated each movement of his hands, each part of the bike, each tool he used so skillfully. He was always so good with his hands, those deft, yet thick and heavy, fingers. You knew those fingers quite well, quite intimately… 

If only he’d stop fiddling with that hunk of metal and start putting those strong, nimble hands to better use.

“See this nut here?” 

He gestured to a metal protrusion nestled amongst the gears near the back wheel. Though you lacked the knowledge of what a nut was in this context, you nodded with a small, “Mhm.”

“That’s the axle nut. Gotta loosen it, then unscrew this bolt.” He did the actions slowly, careful not to move too quick lest you lose track of him, but it was of no consequence, anyway, because all you could look at were the flexing tendons in his hands, and the bulging squiggles of veins that protruded beneath grease-stained skin. Those little rivers led up into his forearm, where defined muscles tightened and twitched as he clenched his jaw, a few grunts slipping between his tightened lips. He turned the wrench on the axle nut, loosening it with each movement. 

When he’d unscrewed the bolt, he relieved the tension by pushing the back wheel forward, loosening the chain until he could get a grip on the master link that kept the old linking metal pieces together. 

Now admiring the glistening sweat that gave shine to the chest that was exposed by the buttons undone near the neck of his shirt, you did not notice his eyes on you, watching you with a furrowed brow as he spoke.

“Can ya hand me those pliers, hon?”

His voice seemed to shake you awake with almost a startle. In a slight haze, you only blinked at him, your lips quivering without your own awareness, your mind drawing a blank as his sudden attention had hit a reset button on the back of your head. Rebooting, you took a few moments to catch up to speed, but even then, you had become lost in a gaze of ocean blue. 

“What?”

Daryl lifted his chin to nod towards somewhere close behind you, though even your own surroundings were a mystery to you. 

“Can ya gimme those pliers, right behind ya.”

“Oh.” 

You turned swiftly, as if taking your eyes off him for a moment would free you from your stupor. It did not. 

But at least you could locate the tool―nestled atop the other gadgets and gizmos scattered inside the toolbox behind you. 

“These?” You held the red handled tool out for him to see. 

He looked up from the chain that he fiddled with in his grease-stained fingers. “Yeah, that’s it.” He took the pliers to remove the master link from the chain, finally freeing it from the bike. “A’right,” he huffed with a slight satisfaction in his voice. “Now you see this thing ‘ere?”

Leaning forward, you focused your sight on where he was pointing—the long metal rod near the drum brake. “Mhm.”

“We’re gonna take that apart next.”

With the brake assembly dismantled, you watched as he removed the back wheel from the bike, carrying it to his workbench while you dutifully followed, entranced by his confident sway. There weren’t many things Daryl was secure about, but when it came to mechanics, he was assured of himself. In fact, he may have gotten a little cocky, having noticed that each time he instructed you on a new step, you responded either with an absent-minded hum or a dazed stare at his biceps. 

After he replaced the sprocket, much to your confusion with each procedure he explained, he replaced the wheel on the bike, this time adding on the new chain. 

And as he tightened the chain, he cranked the wrench on the locking nut, securing it into place. Again, his arms flexed with mesmerizing strength, the intrigue of which was only matched by the muscles bulging in his neck, the low grunts and redness that pooled in his cheek. It was all too familiar, the way his body moved and the way his muscles contorted in the strain of the activity. 

Though you desperately wanted to squeeze your thighs together, just to momentarily relieve a bit of tension between them, you could only sit still as you watched him, now totally unable to hear a word of what he was saying, despite your admiration for his passion.

But the longer you seemed to be in a distracted state of stupor, your mouth nearly hanging open enough to start drooling, the more he caught onto your lack of attention for the bike, and your excessive attention for him.

“Now… Don’t wanna screw this too tight, it’ll wear out faster, then I’d have to change this chain again. But ya want it just tight enough, and not too loose.”

If you’d been able to concentrate at all on what he said, you might’ve blushed.

But all you could do was watch his fingers work, nimble movements reminding you of how those calloused fingers would tickle your skin in your intimate moments, how he knew just how to touch you and make you shiver until that shiver became a deep, penetrating chill of pleasure. 

He’d always had that effect on you, even in the most innocuous moments. How could this man affect you like this, send a shiver down your spine, without even touching you? Not only that, but he was working on his bike, trying to educate you, and yet, you were still thinking about his filthy, grease-stained hands leaving prints all over your body.

And when he cleared his throat, you were back again, only with no clue what Daryl had just said. All you knew was he seemed to know what he was talking about, based on the assuredness in his voice. 

In a slight panic that you’d missed something important, you replied—“Mm… That’s nice, sweetie.”

His eyebrow arched in slight amusement, your words and the dreamy lull in your voice having confirmed his suspicion—you weren’t paying attention at all. 

Now he looked you in the eye, keeping your gaze with his intense stare, only weakened by a glint of playfulness, with a sparkle of mischief. There was an upward lift to one side of his mouth as he spoke, a smirk so charming that you found your breath getting caught in your chest.

“You payin’ attention?” he asked, though not with any kind of disappointment. 

Back straightening, you nodded as you hummed. “Mhm.”

The man narrowed his eyes at you, studying you with amused suspicion. “What’d I jus’ say?”

You sank a little, your posture weakening as you cleared your throat, buying time to keep you from admitting that you were less interested in the mechanics of his bike, and more interested in the mechanics of his arms.

“Well, uh… You were talking about…”

There was a shakiness to your voice as you lowered your head, focusing on your fingers which fiddled with each other in your lap. With your eyes averted, and your brain being ramped suddenly into third gear, you hadn’t noticed that Daryl scooted closer across the cold concrete, his own focus having separated from his beloved motorcycle completely.

“Hey,” he said, and from the mere vibration of his voice, traveling through the small space of air that existed now between you, you knew to look up at him, as if he had commanded it. And to you, he did.

When you looked up, he broke into a bigger smile, with a flash of faded white from the bottom edges of his teeth, the same ones that had left faint marks on your neck many times before. 

It was your innocence that amused him, made him huff a small laugh under his breath. You matched his laugh with your own nervous one, though you knew not why he made you so anxious, after so long of being his. Well, maybe he just had that effect on you, and maybe he always would. 

You knew he always would.

“You ain’t payin’ attention, are ya?”

Now, out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of his stained, greasy hand, raising to grasp at your chin. His touch was soft, yet deliberate. He knew. Daryl was always observant, after all. Besides, you’d unintentionally made it rather obvious. 

When you failed to answer him, he narrowed his gaze again, just enough so he could hone in on your lips. They quivered now, just like they always did for him. He liked it—how your body reacted to his touch. It was always so predictable, so safe. Everything about you was, and he knew you so well now, that he had no problem making sure you answered him.

“Are ya, sweetheart?”

The very quiet, nearly undetectable whimper that slipped subconsciously from your lips could’ve gone unnoticed if he weren’t so attentive to your every action, but he was, and he heard it. How easily you crumbled for him, and how perfect your mouth looked—split open and plump, wet and aching. 

“No… I…” His fingers rubbed the curve of your jaw as he held your chin with more pressure, as if to punish you with the most affectionate touch. “Sorry.”

But the word went without reply as his grip pulled you forward. No movement on his part other than that pull, bringing you to him, your lips softly connecting as a sigh got caught between wet flesh, your mouth was forced open just enough by his tongue. 

The kiss was ended much too abruptly for your liking, though he punctuated it with small bursts of pecks upon your still quivering lips. On his own lips, a cocky smirk, taunting you. Rarely did Daryl tease you quite like this, though he could never pass up the opportunity. 

“S’all right.” He was still close enough for the vibration of his gruff voice to tickle you. “Long as you just sit there lookin’ all pretty for me.”

Just like that, you melted again, your head only propped up by his hand still caressing your chin. 

“Okay.” The word came out in a dreamy giggle, of which you may have been embarrassed if he hadn’t broken out into his own little snicker. 

It took him a few drawn out moments to peel himself from you, intent on finishing replacing the chain before his recruiting trip tomorrow, but eventually, reluctantly, he removed his hand, your chin now blotched with his oily fingerprints. 

Another huff of laughter escaped from his smirking lips, to which you tilted your head in confusion. 

Loosely, he gestured to his own chin. “Ya got a lil somethin’.”

~

Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments of any kind are always appreciated!

Masterlist

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfic #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #twd #twd fanfiction #twd fanfic #norman reedus #norman reedus fanfiction #daryl dixon x you #norman reedus x reader #norman reedus x you #norman reedus fanfic

[mintspidey]

shotgun - daryl dixon

word count : 6.6k

summary : done with another stressful semester of your university, you invite your friends over for pizza and some pre-rolled joints you were dealt a few days ago. when a handsome stranger tags along, throwing all your plans off course, you fail to anticipate how well you flirt under influence.

authors note and warnings : daryl dixon/f!reader. drugs, shotgunning, unprotected piv sex, cum eating, some dry humping, religious guilt mentioned very briefly, build up, porn WITH plot, nsfw as fuck, high sex (both parties high and consent enthusiastically), daryl jerks you off as you jerk him off, reader with female reproductive parts. song for the fic also mentioned in the fic: girls need love by summer walker.

you don't remember the exact series of events that led a stranger to your bed, smoking your weed.

what you do remember is glancing at a text from glenn, your friend of five years, saying that he would be at yours for movie night along with his new roommate because "he seemed lonely and could use some friends."

to be completely fucking honest, you did not want to make a new friend. you did not need a new friend. you were fine with the way things were; glenn and his girlfriend maggie occupied enough of your social life for you not to feel lonely even in your one-bedroom apartment miles away from your university campus.

after an arduous day of working on your midterm papers, you just needed a good old movie night where you could sit in comfortable silence with your friends and then eventually pass out on the couch. the universe seemed to have different plans however.

it's not like you didn't understand why glenn was bringing his roommate over; you weren't heartless. hell, you have been in his position before: new to the town, no new friends, just you and four cartons of your stuff neatly packed with the help of your mother - who, by the way, did not make the move easy with her empty nest syndrome.

maybe this was a good thing. you often complained to glenn about how you needed to get out more and live out your college days to the fullest before you succumbed to capitalism and worked a dead-end job just to make ends meet. you didn't even have to go out of your house to make a new friend, he would be at your doorstep in about twenty minutes. and besides, glenn would bring free pizza from his work. you could play along for some free pizza.

the clock struck nine pm as you shut your laptop for the day and leaned back on your couch, exhausted. your fingertips hurt from typing incessantly, and your thighs were uncomfortably hot thanks to your piece of shit laptop.

tossing the device beside you, you walked to your bathroom to freshen up, try and look presentable. you wouldn't give a single fuck if it was only your friend group coming over, hell, they have seen you at your worst moments where you were crying over your life or throwing up from drinking too much and vice versa.

this was uncharted territory. sort of. you had seen glenn's roommate once when you visited glenn’s to grab the notes you lent him for intro to microeconomics. you couldn't even catch his name in the few seconds his room door was cracked open, followed by a wary glare through the sliver and a loud thud, shutting you out of his sight.

your eyelids dropped as you splashed water on your face, replaying your interaction with him to somehow analyze him by his dialogue, or lack thereof.

socializing had always been rocky for you, especially following social cues or maintaining a conversation without thinking that the other person could not give less of a shit about you.

if glenn's roommate was anything like glenn, a raging extrovert, he would do most of the talking and all you would have to do is nod and comment. judging by his reaction to seeing you the other day, however, you were afraid that he was more of an introvert compared to you.

as you picked an outfit for the night, something comfortable but presentable, you practiced your smile.

should you smile with your teeth, or offer an obligatory tight-lipped smile? did it seem fake? would it be interpreted as rude?

throwing on a black tank and some red flannel pants, some of your best clothes to sleep in, you felt anxiety glow red hot in your veins, twisting your gut horribly.

the way your body reacted to socializing was a bit much, in your opinion. you wouldn't actively worry about things, but your body acted in ways your brain didn’t. you couldn't figure out for the life of you what it was, and you weren't sure you wanted to.

a few deep breaths settled your stomach as you checked yourself in the mirror. you looked decent, and you could pass out comfortably in your living room. your hair was okay, not much could be done to it so you left it be.

it had been fifteen minutes, and glenn texted you saying that he was downstairs as a heads-up so you could "fix yourself up haha."

that little shit.

rolling your eyes, you texted him to fuck off and did a once-over around you to make sure your apartment was tidy enough. as you waited by the door, right foot tapping impatiently, that feeling returned, the one that made you want to throw up and shit your guts out simultaneously.

you heard a distant conversation from the hallway and straightened your clothes in preparation. as soon as you heard three raps on the door, you opened it immediately.

"wow that was quick, were you standing at the door waiting for us?" glenn greeted you with a box of pizza in his hand. you were about to tell him to eat shit but the smell of the food worked like a charm as you ignored his remarks and moved away from the door to let your friends, well, two friends and the stranger, in.

maggie’s arms caged you in, rocking you from side to side, "i haven't seen you in so long, how have you been!"

the girl smelled like roses, soothing your anxiety one nerve at a time. "i've been okay, just buried in exams and papers, like the usual..." you trail off, appreciating the bear hug she still had you in. you loved maggie, her voice, her energy, her eyes; everything about her made you feel lighter and absolved you of all worries.

so much so that you forgot about the figure standing awkwardly outside your door with a pack of beers in his right hand and his left stuffed in his pocket.

you widened your eyes, letting go of maggie with a kiss on her cheek.

"hey, nice to meet you, um... i'm sorry, i don't think we have met..."

"oh yeah! that's daryl, look at what he brought!" glenn exclaimed, setting the pizza down on the coffee table.

"beer," daryl commented, nodding to himself.

this is going to be fun, you thought, painfully, offering him a practiced smile to lighten his heavy aura.

daryl. his name certainly suited him. clad in all black, a silver chain hanging off his belt loops, and a top that looked like its sleeves had been ripped off. you didn’t hate the way that it revealed his surprisingly buff arms as he walked into the apartment, raising them and holding the booze, "where d'ya want this?"

his voice had a drawl to it; deep like a smoker’s, deeper with that country accent of his.

caught up in your own observations, your delayed response to daryl's simple question had glenn snicker, earning a quick and hopefully stabbing nudge from maggie.

pointing at your coffee table, you started, "so daryl, you new to this town?"

the man grunted a "yes" without any follow-up, which had you frantically search for the remote control of your tv, the best social lubricant at your disposal.

as you passed the remote control to glenn to put on a movie of his choice- since it was his turn this week- your view switched to daryl, sitting on the other side of the couch with his legs parted open and both arms resting on the cushions.

you tried overlooking the manspreading just this once.

he wore his hair down, strands covering his face dishevelledly. you wondered how it didn't bother him to have hair blocking his view or tickling his face. your gaze narrowed in, ignoring maggie and glenn arguing over which movie they wanted to watch.

daryl's eyes were focused… or too relaxed? you couldn't tell. the kajal on his lower waterline certainly made your gut flip in excitement, confusing you momentarily. he looked messy; the torn shirt, the ripped black pants, and even his greasy-looking hair for that matter. but even the short duration you knew him for, it suited him.

you kind of liked it.

“let’s watch jaws! please!” glenn protested, tugging on his girlfriend’s arm, to which she just rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“how many times do you wanna watch it?! no, pick sumn else.”

daryl didn’t care for their argument clearly, scoffing and reaching for a bottle of beer on the coffee table. the bottle looked comically small in his hands as you watched him buck his hips to fetch what looked like a lighter from his back pocket.

at this point, glenn and maggie were basically non-existent as you observed daryl holding the butt of the lighter to the bottlecap and flick it off in one swift motion. the sheer ease with which he undid the seal made you widen your eyes, an amused smile painting your lips.

you heard the faint tune of the theme song of jurassic park. the couple must have settled on a movie, finally, you thought. your eyes trailed every movement of daryl’s, focusing on the way he brought the mouth of the bottle to his lips, chugging down almost half of the drink, his adam’s apple bobbing prominently.

a foreign feeling blossomed at the bottom of your gut, making you shift in your seat. you watched intently as daryl separated the bottle from his mouth, leaving a glossy sheen on his bottom lip.

what the fuck was happening to you?

you didn’t know jack shit about daryl, you didn’t know his morals, or his background, or even had a proper conversation with him before. so why were suddenly fixing your hair and adjusting your clothes?

why did you care?

peeling your eyes away with great difficulty, you turned your attention to maggie who was reaching for a slice of pie, “what toppings did you get?”

“half mushroom and half jalapeno, no pepperoni this time though, they were out,”

you nodded at her, knowing full well your attention was still hung up on the standoffish man sitting across you. turning toward the tv, you leaned back in your seat, puffing your chest out for a deep breath and settling into the soft cushion behind you.

daryl remained silent and focused on the screen, occasionally snickering at the jokes and mumbling to himself as he nursed his beer. he really was an introvert. not the kind scared to talk, but the kind who would rather not; save his breath instead.

at that rate, you weren’t going to get to know him at all, and the tension in the air seemed to grow by the second, at least for you.

halfway through the movie, you exhaled, breaking the deafening silence from the sheer lack of conversation. daryl and maggie’s heads turned to you; glenn’s vision remained glued to the screen.

“this movie is so fucking boring, glenn!” you interrupted, finally snapping the boy out of whatever spell jeff goldblum's chest hair had him in.

“this is not fucking fair, did i ever complain about any of your movie picks?” he rolled his eyes, setting his fourth slice down inside the box, clapping the crumbs off his fingers.

“ask me if i care. we aren’t even talking, we’re just staring at this screen. look at maggie! she almost dozed off a couple of times!” you responded, leaning forward in your seat and pointing at the poor girl trying to keep her eyes open.

defeat washed across your friend’s face as he swung an arm around maggie to pull her in.

offering him the most shit-eating grin, you began, “i recently bought some pre-rolls as an after-exam-season treat… it’s purely indica so it won’t have us neurotic…” you trailed off, scanning your friends’ as well as daryl’s faces for approval.

maggie straightened her back, a glint in her eye you rarely witnessed. you knew glenn would never say no to a little bit of relaxation, especially after a long day at the shitty job he works.

“fuck yeah, now we’re talking.” daryl sighed, rubbing his temples and setting his beer down.

oh, so he was bored as fuck before.

you knew it had nothing to do with you whatsoever, especially because glenn was clearly at fault, although you couldn’t help but feel like you disappointed him.

a complete stranger who happened to catch your eye and can’t leave your mind.

holding up your index finger, you rushed to your bedroom, giddiness blinding your senses just at the mere thought of being the perfect host for your guests.

when you returned to the living room with a flat metallic box, the movie was turned off and maggie succeeded to connect her phone to your bluetooth speaker, shuffling through her numerous playlists before finally landing on one.

“you’re gonna like this song…” the girl pointed at you, her eyes following your figure the moment you stepped into the living room. tilting your head in confusion, you waited for the song to begin as the speaker turned on with three little beeps.

“honestly…” you heard from the speakers, ears perking up instantly. your eyes widened at maggie in excitement, your mouth falling agape.

daryl and glenn observed the two of you, confused at the sudden change in atmosphere.

as the instrumental in the background progressed, you rushed to your seat, nudging the lid of the box open with the pad of your thumb. the scent of weed, not the kind that stinks but is subtle and almost nostalgic, enveloped your senses. your fingers found themselves picking the well-rolled joint in your hands and asking someone for a light.

daryl grabbed his lighter, which you noticed had a sticker of a skull on it, and extended his hand. his buff, well-defined, muscular-

“you think one joint’s gonna be enough? i’m not a lightweight unlike this loser here,” daryl spoke in a full sentence for the first time, gesturing towards glenn as he flicked the lighter on and looked up at you. placing the joint between your lips, you craned your neck forward and leaned in to meet the flame halfway, two fingers ghosting in a ‘v’ under the cigarette in case it fell.

“i have plenty, daryl. getting high won’t be a problem,” you glanced up at him, through the flame, paying close attention to his eyes for the first time now that his hair was mostly out of the way.

his face bathed in the orangish hue of the flame, as did yours, revealing the true color of his eyes. they were a deep prussian blue; not what you expected but certainly liked. the spark from the lighter chipped away at the twisted head of the joint and bit the ground-up grass eventually.

sucking in, you breathed life into the stick between your lips, the head pulsing red-hot as you inhaled the smoke into your lungs. momentarily holding your breath, you exhaled, feeling an itch in your throat.

you forced a cough or two out of you before leaning back in your seat and processing the hit. your hand mindlessly raised the joint to maggie on your right, who grabbed it a little too quickly.

“honestly i’m trying to stay focused”

the song commenced, curving the edge of your lips upward. it might have been a placebo effect, the fact that you were a lightweight, or that you just hadn’t smoked in a while. but some of those reasons were catching up to you. fast.

glenn took several hits with ease, throwing his head back on the cushion and handing the roll to daryl.

“you must think i’ve got to be joking…”

his fingers, too thick for the small joint, held it with such care. like he would break it if he gripped it a little too hard. you watched the man take a long drag; his lips gently kissing the joint, drawing out the smoke to hold it down briefly before blowing it all out.

“i don’t think i can wait. i just need it now…”

you don’t know what awakened in you; maybe it was because your favorite song was playing, or that smoking looked especially attractive on him, or a combination of both, but your eyes widened unnaturally largely as you traced his movements; the movement of his lips around the cig, his chest heaving after a hit, his sharp collarbones on shameless display as he threw his head back in relief.

you were entranced.

“here.” he offered, reaching across the seating area with the joint in his hand.

you tried to make the exchange non-physical. you really did. but his fingers enveloped most of the joint and you had no choice but to fumble with them until you grabbed hold of the cigarette, his touch leaving your skin burning hot.

“i just need some dick… i just need some love…”

this was not relaxing in any way. you sat with this stranger you wanted to fuck as a song about wanting to fuck played in the background. you monitored your breathing and your posture; all of these efforts to impress this question mark of a man in your living room.

“fuck, i think i’m already high.” glenn coughed out, his head resting on maggie’s shoulder. you chuckled, nursing the joint once again.

you were not going to lie. the drug had gotten hold of you by now; your reactions were slightly delayed, you took longer to process what the other person said, and your eyelids hung lower than usual.

and there's the cottonmouth.

what trumps all of the above, however, is the pure euphoria climbing every fiber of your body. a harmony of numbness and freedom flowing through you, dusting the weight off your shoulders.

“you could be the one. we can start with a handshake, baby, i’mma need more than a hug…”

you might have underestimated the effects of weed on you. not only did it make you giggly and careless and hungry, but it also made you unbelievably horny. you looked up at daryl, a blunt weight on your eyelids having you cherish the softness of the cushions behind you. the pillow resting between your legs brushed against your core, throwing gasoline to the flame.

the nape of your neck felt hot as you swallowed thickly, trying to distract yourself from the situation at hand.

the bass from your speakers stimulated your body, vibrations traveling between your legs.

“girls can’t ever say they need it, girls can’t never say now…”

fuck, you wanted someone.

normally, you were fine being alone; it was difficult enough managing yourself, let alone someone else. and it isn’t like you didn’t have experience with romance; you had a couple of relationships in high school that obviously didn’t last. coming to university, however, made you realize just how not-ready you were to be involved with someone.

“hey can i take a nap on your couch?” maggie began, gently nudging glenn to make room for her head on his lap.

“already?” you teased the girl with no actual annoyance in your voice.

maggie nodded, tired and laying down on her boyfriend’s lap. you swore you heard daryl scoff slightly as glenn stroked maggie’s hair. you flashed a small, sort of obligatory smile at the couple on your couch.

the distance between you and daryl seemed to lengthen as half of your smoke circle was now passed out, leaving no one to pass the joint. your back strained, trying to close the gap between you and the man who did not seem to get high at all.

“hey, uh.. daryl? you high yet?”

“nah, i can go for a few more rounds.” he grunted kicking glenn’s leg in slight annoyance.

your eyes widened, bottom lip jutting out in admiration of his tolerance level, “you smoke often?”

“a lot of shit happens around… just easier to tolerate if you can forget for a while,” he spoke, bringing the roach to his lips.

“why not drink instead? why do you smoke?”

you knew you were testing the limits with this closed-off man, but how else were you supposed to get to know him?

daryl cocked an eyebrow, and you could hear him question why it was any of your business to know anything about his life.

“i’m not a good drunk.”

silence washed into the room, leaving you pouting your lips, trying to segue the conversation into something lighter.

“i like your skull tattoo.” you commented, eyeing the back of his hand. you realized it looked exactly like the sticker on his lighter. that seemed to have caught his attention noticing his slightly raised eyebrows.

“can you guys shut the fuck up?” a drowsy voice interrupted your conversation.

“what the fuck do you want us to do huh?” you retorted, turning towards glenn, who was scrunching his face in irritation.

“go inside or something i don’t fucking know!”

you would have usually kicked him off the couch for behaving like the annoying brother he is, but you had to think this through. there was a way this could turn out well for you.

‘going inside’ meant that you would be alone with daryl, probably on your bed too since there wasn’t any other seating inside your room. you looked at daryl, raising your eyebrows suggestively.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

your room was slightly colder than your living room; something about the building ventilation being fucked up. daryl didn’t seem to care, shedding the sleeveless vest he had on, his biceps flexing in the process. you eyed the posters on your wall with criticism, hoping none of them were embarrassing.

“you like breaking bad huh?” daryl commented, pointing at your wall. you nodded, a smile pulling at your lips.

“good show. you got good taste.”

your chest swelled with pride, muscles around your mouth in pain from how hard you smiled. a chill from your aircon trailed up your spine, your arms hugging either side of your torso in an attempt to warm up. daryl glanced at you, specifically your breasts pushing up against each other, momentarily, before sitting on the foot of the bed with the dying roach in his hand.

you turned off the fluorescent white central lighting in your room before pressing the switch for your calmer, dimmer lamp.

“shit was hurtin’ my eyes, thanks.” you heard daryl chuckle.

“yeah, the landlord hates me, i swear. had to get candles because that light is just so fucking ugly,” you spoke, a laugh bubbling up. the smile on your face had not left since you entered your room. the full-body euphoria made you giggly, even in the company of a stranger.

sitting down on the other side of the bed, you dug into the metal box once again, fumbling with the tempting joints as your vision blurred softly. you felt his gaze burn into your skin as you sat in your dimly lit room.

“you play guitar?” he questioned, looking away from you and at the metallic blue electric guitar placed in the corner of your room.

“a little… i’m still learning though… you?”

“used to.” daryl responded, fishing his lighter out as soon as you stopped fumbling with the joint.

repeating the same routine; sticking the joint between your lips and leaning into him, overestimating the space between the two of you this time, you climbed toward him, fists digging into your mattress as you waited for him to give you the light.

you didn’t pay attention to the way your tank top dropped low in front of him, or how quick his eyes were to check you out before nudging the flame toward the joint.

you sucked on the cigarette, eyebrows knitting in pain from the delicious burn spreading through your lungs, not breaking eye-contact with the man in your bed. you exhaled slowly, the back of your head landing on the headboard with a thud, “fuuuuck… i missed this.”

daryl tilted his head, “yeah? why? you take a break?”

“well, i get addicted to things easily… and religious guilt and whatnot…” you answered, feeling weird about your sudden transparency.

daryl raised his eyebrows, “that’s heavy shit, you don’t gotta tell me twice.”

you pass the joint to daryl, his fingers sizzling against yours for the millisecond-long touch. the scent of weed fogged your senses as he blew the smoke out, coughing immediately after.

your nerves undid themselves one after the other, head swaying to a non-existent rhythm. this strain was strong. you had forgotten how dangerously easy it was to not give a fuck when you were high.

do something, say something, you scolded yourself, scanning daryl’s figure on your bed. it felt like the universe had dropped a gift on your lap and you, for some reason, refused to open it.

your inner teenager activated the second you sat down on your bed with him, letting your thoughts run wild.

the blunt ache between your thighs grew more unbearable by the second as you wondered how his lips would feel; how they’d taste.

you wanted to be near him and feel his fingers, his warmth around you. but nothing was going to happen if you didn’t close the gaping distance between the two of you. you parted your lips, heart beating faster than ever. if he shot you down, it would be the worst high of your life and you would just have to live with that.

your mouth acted before the sober part of your mind did, popping the first question in your mind.

“you ever shotgunned?”

daryl stopped fiddling with his lighter to look at you, darting his tongue out to wet his bottom lip; that same glossy sheen sent a jolt of lightning to the bottom of your gut.

you tried filling in the silence, “you know… inhaling smoke fro-”

the man nodded hesitantly, hair moving toward his face, “i know what it is.” the drone of his accent budded excitement in your chest.

you cocked an eyebrow and inched closer to him, “i haven’t.”

he stopped all movement, looking up at you to process the loss of space between him and you.

“how does it feel?” you tilted your head, shame or dignity nowhere to be found within you.

daryl’s chest heaved as he brought the joint in his hand to his lips. you watched him, processing his movements, heart beating faster than usual. his lips worked fast around the pre-roll, leaving you wondering whether he would look the same between your legs.

your thighs squirmed, body feeling smaller and smaller in front of the man leaning closer and closer to you. his hands cupped your face, the cool metal of his rings contrasting his burning fingertips.

your lips parted as you looked up at him through your eyelashes, surrendering into his hold. pulling your face in, he switched his gaze from one eye of yours to the other.

the strong yet subtle aroma of his cologne mixed with the frankly delicious scent of the drug scrambled your senses. daryl looked down, blowing smoke in a thin stream, refusing to look away from where the smoke met your lips.

like a reflex, you inhaled, hands grabbing at his legs for balance.

the room seemed to darken in comparison to the man holding your face. suddenly he and you were the only objects in the world, floating. daryl’s hold loosened as you inhaled for what felt like years of your life.

“how about that?”

your breath staggered, processing what happened a second ago. you nodded, not pulling away from him.

daryl was definitely high. a pinkish hue masked his eyes, eyelids drooping down lower than usual, and a mindless smile playing on his lips. you could say the same for yourself, still processing the position you were in with a handsome stranger you met, thanks to glenn.

“that was.. um… yeah. fun…” you struggled to find the words, still looking into his cold eyes. you shifted your weight, the flannel of your pants rubbing deliciously against your core, making you hitch your breath.

“you gon’ pull away?” he spoke, not letting go.

“you gonna let go?” you retorted, not pulling away.

you had to grow some balls. here you were, getting high with someone you actually were interested in after a long time. that was not the right time to second- guess yourself.

fingers tracing his jaw, you leaned in.

“daryl. can i kiss you?”

you could see the gears turn in his head as you waited for what felt like years for a response. not a word was spoken. the dim lamps lit the back of his head casting an angel like glow to his silhouette.

he brought the flaming end of the joint to his tongue, putting out the embers with a soft sizzle.

you widened your eyes, “what the fuck, how did that not hurt-”

silence.

the softest pair of lips on yours shut you right up, your nose finding warmth against his skin. daryl pulled you in, fingers reaching for your hair.

what was happening?

you kissed back, sitting up straight to find balance. his hands roamed your back and stopped at the small of it. he tightened his grip around the fabric of your tank top and pulled you in. your chest leaned flush against his, feeling the outlines of his several silver chains on your breasts.

your lips grew hot with every kiss you planted on his, his tongue swiping your bottom lip before biting it gently. the very involuntary moan he pulled out of you, had his chest heaving. your fingers found his small waist, relishing the way he felt under your touch.

daryl pulled away, muttering a string of “fuck”s , eyeing you head to waist, “you sure you want to?”

you deadpanned, mouth open at the man’s obliviousness, “yeah, i’m kissing you back because i don’t want you.”

“hey, no sarcasm. yes or no?”

“yes, daryl. you?”

“hell, yeah,” he nodded, pulling you in with one arm as he made himself more comfortable on your bed.

you pressed kisses on his neck, arms anchoring yourself around him on the cream-colored sheets. his shoulders settle, a long sigh escaping his lips. the grip of your fingers on his waist tightened when you caught the scent of his cologne mixed with the cigarettes you assume he had been smoking all day.

he leaned back on your pillow, eyelids dropping as he spread his legs to sink further down on the mattress. you tugged at the waistband of his jeans, signaling him to undo his belt. as he worked on his pants, you were quick to shed your tank, revealing your bra.

daryl stopped fumbling with his belt to look at you, breathing getting heavier, cock stirring at the mere sight of a topless you.

“daryl!” you reminded, noticing how distracted he was. watching him undo the zipper on his pants and push them down had you drooling in anticipation. you did not know it was possible to drool at the sight of someone, but there you were.

you started unbuttoning his shirt, peppering kisses from the nape of his neck to his collarbones, taking your sweet time to taste him. your other hand, having a mind of its own, palmed him through his boxers, fishing his first moan for the evening.

“you like it when i do that?” your open mouthed kisses made their way to the shell of his ear.

“fuck… yeah, do it again.”

following a soft chuckle, your legs straddled his waist as you helped him remove his shirt. you weren’t surprised when his tattoos were revealed, or his numerous chains for that matter. what you were intrigued about, however, were his scars.

scars scattered across his torso, some covered up with tattoos, some not.

“oh, um. yeah, these-”

“you don’t have to tell me.”

he nodded, relief washing over him. you sensed the hesitation in his voice as he tried to explain. you could tell that was not the time, clearly.

one of your hands slipped under his boxers, feeling his length. daryl’s mouth dropped open, eyes rolling back at your touch.

daryl was big. not just length-wise either; your fingers wrapped around him but barely met as you stroked up and down his shaft. his heartbeat quickened as he bucked his hips into your palm, desperate for more friction.

you had forgotten all about the pathetic state of your arousal between your legs, completely focused on making the guy writhing under your touch feel good.

so imagine your surprise when he mirrored you, his right hand sliding down your underwear to rub at your clothed clit.

you noticed daryl smile mindlessly, wondering what amused him in the middle of getting a hard-on.

“you get this wet for a stranger?”

a jolt of lightning shot up your pussy as you detached your lips from his neck, rocking against his thick fingers to meet his eyes.

“i wouldn’t be talking shit ab-... about someone who’s got your dick in their hand,” you replied, trying to concentrate on your hand and hip coordination.

“just a- fuck … just observing,” he whimpered through heavy breaths, eyeing your chest.

his fingers deftly hooked the fabric of your underwear to pull them to the side. before you could brace for impact, the coolness of his touch met the warmth of your pulsating clit, applying minimal pressure.

“daryl, fuck, can you just-” you pleaded, grinding harder against his fingers.

“nah,” you felt his smile through the kisses on your neck as his other hand unhooked your bra with ease.

you were so fucking close. but this was a competition, an unspoken one, but one nonetheless.

trying your best not to give in to his frankly skilled fingers working your pussy, your own stroked the head of his cock, earning a choked moan from the man who momentarily stopped all movement in utter surprise.

the bouts of energy shooting up your core were ten times more intense because of the weed. and maybe, probably, definitely because of daryl. that toy in your nightstand couldn't make you clench around nothing like his fingers did just a few seconds ago.

your biggest mistake was thinking that you had gotten the best of him. his focus, although seemingly on your breasts bouncing in his face, was on his own fingers, rubbing at your folds before sliding a digit down your slit and dipping into you.

head thrown back and eyes rolling to the back of your head, you gasped in your highest voice, painful pleasure coursing through your veins.

the pad of his thumb rubbed circles on your clit, the rest of his digits gathering your arousal to rub the folds of your pussy.

“this is to- too much, oh i feel so fucking good-”

“hush now, you don't wanna wake them up,” he reminded you, the stubble on his chin scratching against the soft skin on your tits. bringing his mouth to one of your nipples, he nibbled softly, massaging your other breast with his free hand.

you brought the hand previously wrapped around him to your mouth, spitting on your palm and pulling him out of his boxers before covering him with your saliva.

it was his turn to try and be quiet, teeth sinking down on his lower lip as he watched you jerk him off, smearing your spit on his tip and dipping into the slit of his cock with your thumb.

“where’d’ya lear- … learn all this?” the drawl in his voice grew raspier.

“i got my ways,” you looked up at him, mind hazy as ever, yet still focused on what was at hand. literally.

you don’t know what came over you when you pulled away from him entirely to take your pants off. daryl watched you strip, eyes raking your naked silhouette.

“what are you doi-” he began, trying to put two and two together. you climb back into your bed, pulling daryl in by his arms.

reaching for his cock, you straddled his waist, pulling your panties aside and slapping his shaft against your folds, the mere sound of contact sending shockwaves to your gut.

you rocked into his shaft, rubbing yourself up on him, your arousal smothering the tip of his cock almost immediately.

the warmth of your core sent daryl over the edge as his hands gripped firmly at your waist, rubbing his shaft up and down your slit.

your hands grabbed his thighs, massaging them steadily as the two of you continued to grind against each other, the tiniest of frictions bringing you closer to the edge.

“daryl, i don’t think i can last longer i-”

“me neither sunshine, you wanna do the honors?”

you nodded, wetting your lips and chasing your high. the sinful noises of his cock rubbing up against your pussy as you grow wetter by the second only help you as you bounce up and down against him faster and harder.

you panted his name, eyes shut and nails clawing his biceps, the tip of his cock swollen pink and pulsating.

as you focused on cumming, you didn't notice his thumb pressing down on your clit in one swift motion, sending white-hot flashes through your nervous system, your pussy clenching around nothing. his finger did not leave your clit, even when you fell back on the mattress, feeling your orgasm crescendo as your body shook in sheer euphoria.

you gripped your sheets, whimpering through the orgasm as you bit your fingers to stay quiet. tears of pleasure threatened to spill from your eyes when you arched your back at your final clench before letting go in exhaustion, clit throbbing bluntly from the aftermath of your climax.

your eyes flickered to daryl’s cock, the head leaking with precome as he watched you cum around his cock. he swallowed thickly, hands inching closer to your figure.

“daryl, you wanna come on my tits?”

eyebrows raised, he nodded hurriedly, climbing on top of a very topless you, and stroking himself. it still seemed as if he held back on cumming too soon even though you were the first one to do so.

cocking an eyebrow, you massaged the inside of his thighs, inching closer and closer to his pelvis before cupping his balls.

a guttural moan escaped his lips, the hand on his cock speeding up its pace. his mouth fell open, “fuck fuck fuck i’m coming, im coming-”

his climax painted your chest as his elbow propped himself up near your head, trying not to collapse on you.

your fingers played with the liquid, smearing it on your breasts before bringing them to your mouth and pushing them past your lips.

daryl, still recovering from his orgasm, took notice of that, a small smile playing on his lips before kissing you. the slightly salty taste of his own climax flooded his mouth as he felt your fingers thread his hair.

pulling away, you stared at him, the sheen on sweat on his forehead and chest a pretty reminder of what just happened between the two of you.

“you treat all your houseguests like this?” you heard him through the pulsation now in your ears.

that comment earned him a playful slap on the arm. “gonna help me clean this up first?” your eyes pointed toward your tits.

“depends, can i sleep over?” he questioned, already on his way to grab some tissues, letting you know he was joking around.

you giggled, sitting up to face him, “you can come over anytime you want daryl, you bring the weed next time though.”

you swore you heard him chuckle before saying, “deal.”

__________

hii ! pls comment and let me know if you liked the fic!! <33

#daryl x reader #daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon smut #writers #daryl dixon/reader #the walking dead smut #shotgunning #smoking #norman reedus #norman reedus fanfic #norman reedus x reader

[theteasetreads]

Here is a list of stuff I love/recommend from writers I think are neat. Please be sure to check out their blogs and their other stuff too! I will be updating this list the more I find stuff I love.

*this list is arranged in alphabetical order

❤️‍🔥 = smut (18+) 💝 = fluff 💔 = angst 👀 = suggestive/implied smut

❧ @collecting-stories ↳ I am not sure if this writer is currently writing for Daryl at the moment, but I ADORE their Daryl content! Be sure to check them out, and maybe you'll find that they write for some other characters you like, too!

❧ @devnmon ↳ Rye is one of my pals, and they just so happen to write some of the best Daryl Dixon fanfiction ever. Like, ever. They write some of the sweetest, sauciest, sexiest smut I've ever read, and their writing style is just amazing. I am so bad at describing this kind of stuff, but trust me when I say that they are essential reading if you like Daryl Dixon x Reader!

❧ @haruhey ↳ So much has been said about Haru, but I truly cannot express how amazing their work is. Not only do they write the most mind-blowing, earth-shattering smut on this planet, but they also put so much care and detail and love into their writing. I love how they put tons of effort into creating a real relationship between Daryl and the reader character. It's truly spectacular. Please check their stuff out if you haven't already.

❧ @normanplusdaryl ↳ Ari is just starting on her writing journey, and boy is she already turning out to be another ICONIC addition to the Daryl Dixon x Reader family. I love the way she writes Daryl, how he's true to his character and does/says things I actually think he would do/say. That is a really hard thing to do! Plus, she writes angst super well, and, once again, that is not an easy feat.

❧ @starlessea ↳ This writer's work pretty much introduced me to the world of Daryl Dixon x Reader. In fact, her series, Here Comes the Sun, is what inspired me to write my own series, and my own fanfiction in general.

❧ @weretheones ↳ Madi is not only one of the sweetest, kindest, smartest, funniest, coolest, most talented people you will ever meet, she is also a stellar writer who truly understands the complexities of Daryl's character and basically everything about him. She is truly the gem of Daryl Dixon x Reader. She is an icon, a star, a revolutionary. She rocks my world. Oh, and she is one of the best angst writers. Ever. I don't even particularly like angst, but Madi? She does it so well that it's not even angst, it's just pure art.

❧ Back to Black by normanplusdaryl | 💔 ↳ Summary: Daryl comes home after many years to face the consequences of his actions. ↳ Word Count: 2.5k

❧ Doctor's Orders by weretheones | 💔 ↳ Summary: When a sprained ankle takes you off run duty, the new girl goes in your place. Which would’ve been fine– if she didn’t have that brilliant wit, gorgeous smile, and effortless skill. But she did. And it was only a matter of time before Daryl noticed too. (Season 4) ↳ Word Count: 7k

❧ Gone For Good | Part 1 & 2 by weretheones | 💔💝 ↳ Summary: It was easy to lose hope when everyone around you started dropping like flies. When the flu hit, Daryl saw your optimism drain alongside your health, but it wasn’t until the brutal attack of the Governor that he lost his.  ↳ Word Count: 9k (total)

❧ Hide Away With Me by haruhey | 💝👀 ↳ Summary: Dancing in the dark, with you between my arms. ↳ Word Count: 3.6k

❧ In Vino Veritas by haruhey | ❤️‍🔥 ↳ Summary: After a particularly rough run, Daryl wants nothing more than to shut himself away from everyone with you. However, he’d agreed days prior to be your ‘date’ to one of Alexandria’s welcoming parties thinking you needed someone to share the pain of new people with. Guilt gnaws at him the whole night and he gets wasted to numb the feeling, resulting in you having to carry him home. The alcohol in his system and the way that dress hugs you makes him particularly… talkative, and as the Romans say, in wine there is truth. ↳ Word Count: 30k

❧ Late To the Party by devnmon | ❤️‍🔥 ↳ Summary: Daryl has a knife kink. ↳ Word Count: 7.1k

❧ No Rush by weretheones | ❤️‍🔥 ↳ Summary: Daryl took his time with you. ↳ Word Count: 950

❧ You Deserve the World by devnmon | 💝💔👀 ↳ Summary: Daryl’s been insecure about his age starting to show, and is worried he’ll lose you. You show him every way he won’t. ↳ Word Count: 3.4k

❧ You, You, You by normanplusdaryl | 💝👀 ↳ Summary: After a long night, Daryl comes home and you decide he needs a little break. ↳ Word Count: 1.2k

❧ All You Got by weretheones | 💝💔 ↳ Summary: Daryl Dixon hadn’t known much beyond anger and loneliness his whole life, until he found family at the end of the world. Everything he grew to care about was ripped away the day the prison fell; so when he recognized you, an enforcer of his loss, hiding in that cabin, he almost pulled the trigger. But after you end up saving his life, he couldn’t find the indifference to leave you for dead, even if you’d been on the Governor’s side. (Mid-Late Season 4) 

❧ Georgia by collectingstories | 💝 ↳ Summary: King County, Georgia. In a small town like that, where everyone knows everyone, people can get pigeon-holed into personalities that aren’t their own. Daryl Dixon was a troublemaker, a good-for-nothing, redneck kid who would grow up to be just like his dad. Drinking too much, smoking too much, and cheating his way through life. But Daryl isn’t any of the things people say he is and you’re willing to shoulder the burden of their judgement when you find yourself falling for him.

❧ Here Comes the Sun by starlessea | 💝👀 ↳ Summary: Daryl Dixon scares the hell out of you climbing out of that damn creek. It takes hauling his ass halfway across Georgia and taking a bullet for him to realise that you’re not half bad. He slowly starts to come around, despite grumbling about how much he doesn’t like your singing, or that you can’t use a gun for shit - and don’t get him started on that ugly yellow tent of yours. It takes him a while before he starts to see for himself that he’s found a best friend for life, and that he doesn’t actually mind the colour yellow that much, after all.

Updated: 3/13/2023

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #the walking dead #twd #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #twd fanfic #twd fanfiction #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #fanfiction #daryl dixon x you #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader #norman reedus fanfiction #norman reedus fanfic

[weretheones]

Silver Springs

Plot: Something has always lingered between you and Daryl, even if the world never settled long enough to let it grow. Four years after Rick’s death, that hasn’t changed, but it doesn’t stop you from seeking him out by that river when Judith gets sick. (Set in Season 9, spoilers for 10) 

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Word Count:
 4.8k

Warnings: spoilers for season 9 and onward. especially 10x18... yeah... you already know what this is gonna be. all that fun angsty stuff. 

A/N: decided I've been writing too much fluff lately so i’m going back to my favourite.... angst<3 

thank you to @normanplusdaryl, my lovely friend, for bearing with me through the writing process for this. I love u. I hope it doesn’t make u cry too hard (just a little) <3

and of course thank you to my amazing beta @dreamingdixon. you never miss and your help is always greatly appreciated. ily. 

—————————————————————————————

“How much longer do you think they’ve got?” You asked, overlooking the Sanctuary’s common room. 

The main building was always dark despite its tall windows, surrounded by too many towers of concrete to allow the sun’s rays to slip through. Torches lined the structural columns of the factory below. A soft glow carried across the grey, desolate walls in a futile attempt to cast a feeling of security and comfort. Everything inside those walls was artificial, designed to make the hopeless space appear inviting and homely. 

It wasn’t working. 

More crops were dying by the day and you certainly weren’t the first to question how much longer the Sanctuary had left. It didn’t seem to matter that people were still working hard, weaving amongst each other in the busy room below. The place was slipping away with each sunset. But even if hope was running out, they never refused to help. Everyone that was still here volunteered their labour all for the mere chance of it working out. 

While that fact meant a lot to Rick, it didn’t lessen the weight of a failing community on Daryl’s shoulders. No matter how much work and care went into the place, it just never became what they hoped it’d be. It couldn’t even sustain a damn garden; if it wasn’t for Alexandria’s crops, they’d be starving. Daryl was losing his patience, finding himself more and more displeased within these walls, and it wasn’t just the lingering memories of that dark closet or the smell of dog food that crawled down his throat and turned his stomach.

Daryl shook his head, “I don’t know.” 

You nodded, leaning against the railing Negan used to make his speeches from. Since Daryl had rejected that way of leadership, it became a spot to find quiet, or even a moment between two people who rarely got to be alone anymore. 

“Do you think…” you mumbled, “do you think things will ever settle?” 

Like always, he caught your eye and said more with his look than his words. 

“I hope so.” 

You gave him a small smile. “Yeah. Me too.” 

You could hope until your last breath, but the harsh reality was that things might never settle the way you wanted them to. Just like the sanctuary might never become the community Rick prayed for. That unspoken promise between you and Daryl— that once you had a moment to rest, once and for all, you’d finally let this lingering tension and care grow into something more— might never come to pass. 

After Rick died, you started to understand that. 

In the years you’d shared, you’d always known Daryl as a man of impressive loyalty, and yet, when he told you he had to leave, that he had to look for Rick— even if it was just to find his body, to put him down and bury him— it dug a hole in your chest. 

“I gotta do this,” he whispered, tone so defeated and broken that you knew that just to acknowledge that fact was ripping him apart inside. 

“I know,” you whispered.

“I’ll be back.” 

You gave him a bittersweet smile and repeated, “I know.” 

So he left, and you let him. 

For a while, he was good on his word. Then the weeks slipped into months, and soon enough, it’d been an entire year since he’d come back home. Damn, had you missed him. 

Sometime during the fourth winter without Rick, you were crouched by a river. The air was crisp, the rushing waters smelt a hint of algae. Alexandria had been your home for longer than you ever spent in that dingy little apartment before the world changed, but the woods still had a certain nostalgic warmth, even on a day as cold as this. 

A month ago, the last leaf had fallen and soon after that came the snow. The kids loved it— the way they grinned, radiating blushes even pinker than Gracie’s favourite hat, could’ve been warm enough to melt the snowflakes on their noses. Only after they had spent the entire afternoon in damp jackets and scarves, they learned that the cold invited sickness. In the last two days, poor Judith had come down with a nasty flu. Despite the devoted attention from just about the entirety of Alexandria, the little girl wanted nothing more than her mother’s soothing lullabies and Uncle Daryl’s bear hugs. And who were you to refuse a feverish seven-year-old a small comfort? 

The river’s water was a shock. Sharp needles pricked your skin and instinctively, you curled deeper into your jacket. It only took a minute to wash your hands of the blood completely. Thick splatters still painted your sleeves, all the way up your forearms, but you figured a little mess was better than wet hands and arms in this bitter weather. 

The ground was dry today, only the remnants of soft leaves scattered the forest’s floor. It made it easier to sneak up on that small group of walkers earlier, but it also meant that you hadn’t heard a thing until the threatening cock of a shotgun broke the silence. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” A demanding, female voice snapped from behind you. 

Your shoulders froze, eyes dropped to the river’s reflection. The rapids were too strong and there was only a blur of a figure behind your own. Trained by years of facing the barrel of a gun and the sharp edge of a knife, your movements were calculated. Slowly turning with your hands raised high and defenceless, your eyes steadied on the unfamiliar woman. She was tall, at least from this angle, with a fox fur sewn around her jacket’s collar that was the same reddish shade as her long, tangled hair. 

“I’m no threat to you.” 

“Stand up,” she barked. 

“Alright.” 

“Your weapons.” 

Her eyes followed your hands as you complied, hovering her finger above the trigger. 

“Anything else?” She asked.

“No.” 

In a split second her eyes narrowed and a chill ran down your spine. She wasn’t afraid of you. A feeling sat heavy in your gut that even without her gun pointed at your chest, that fact wouldn't change much. 

“Who are you?” 

You answered. 

She was unfazed by your name, piercing her lips before she asked again, “What are you doing here?” 

You were honest, “I’m looking for a friend.” 

From the way her head tilted, she was intrigued by that. “A friend?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded.

She stayed quiet, watching you– sizing you up. 

“I mean no harm. I’m just trying to find him, it's important,” you reasoned. 

“What’s his name?” she asked, “Your friend.” 

That caused you to pause. You bit your lip. Her shotgun would blow a hole through your chest before you even had the thought to try anything. But, giving out his name to a stranger? That never felt right. 

“I’m not sure that matters,” you pressed. 

“You’re looking for somebody shackin’ up on my land. It matters.” She gripped the gun tighter than before. 

Without another option, your throat burned as you reluctantly answered, “Daryl.” 

Her steely glare softened a second long enough for you to catch her slip. She knew him— or at least, of him— and your heart thumped with new anxiety. 

“Have you seen him?” your tone raised.

She ignored you, glancing down at your clean pants and full backpack, still dropped by your feet. 

“You’re from Alexandria?” 

Then, your expression must’ve softened too. If she knew about Alexandria, it was likely she was also a friend. Daryl wouldn’t be naive enough to give out his home— his family— without building some sort of understanding with her. There must have been at least a hint of trust shared between them. If Daryl could trust her, you hoped you could too— although with the gun pointed to your chest, you weren’t sure you had much of a choice, anyway. 

“Y—Yes,” you stuttered, “so you know him? Where is he?” 

Holding her gun level, her eyes tightened in on you. What she tried to find amongst your expectant look— raised eyebrows and heavy breaths— you weren’t sure, but it must’ve been satisfactory because soon after she soothed that tension growing around your throat, “He’s on a hunt.” 

Oh. You inhaled a breath and a hint of a smile slipped past. Of course, he was hunting. 

“Do you know when he’ll be back?” 

“Soon.”

The gun’s barrel fell to the ground as she finally lowered the threat. 

“We don't see many people around here,” she offered. 

Despite her confidently leveled eyes, the woman seemed to hope you could understand her initial hostility— you did, of course, but that wasn’t what was clawing away at your insides. There was no care in your mind for a lack of trust or whatever you might call it. Rather, a word— a little word that meant so much more than it seemed— nearly made you flinch.

We?

There was no doubt about their friendship, acquaintance— whatever it was— now. The path Daryl had been travelling all these years was entangled enough with this woman’s to be labelled a ‘we’. If she hadn’t been so guarded, you might’ve asked what she meant with an awkward laugh or a gentle smile— something to diffuse the first pierce of your delicate heart. God, even if they were only neighbours, it still burned to think of him sharing whatever time he had left with another. All while you sat back home, pouring love and care into building a future for the kids, for your friends, only wishing you could do the same for him someday. 

Without a hint of your inner turmoil slipping past, you nodded. “I get it.” 

She offered a small smile. Oddly enough, her reserved demeanour almost reminded you of Daryl and the way he used to behave before his walls fell alongside the farm. Though unlike him, her awkwardness was cold and rigid, like she knew the right thing at this moment was to be kind and welcoming to a mutual friend, but the stiffness in her shoulders told you it was mere compliance instead of genuine warmth. 

“His stuff wasn’t where I remembered…” you started, eyeing her expression. After years of this world wearing down even the most trusting people, you knew her worries were likely rooted in bad memories. So you tried to be slightly less eager and certainly less demanding when you asked, “Do you know where he's staying now?” 

She nodded. “I’ll take you there.” 

Your following footsteps were quiet, save the occasional snapped branch. Recalling that she had called this her land, her impeccable footsteps made sense. For her to know the shape of this forest so well, down to the damn sticks, she must’ve been here a long time. 

It only took another second for you to wonder how she met Daryl. Or when. How long did it take for them to meet, and how long until he finally told her about his home? Had they been friends for long? With every step you followed behind, you contemplated voicing the questions on your mind, but the way she behaved had you recalling your first moments with Daryl, back at the farm. If you had asked him anything more than what he caught on his hunt, or if he thought it might rain that day, he’d practically scurry off. It took a whole winter’s worth of nights on the road to get him to warm up to you. 

This woman, whatever she really was to him, a friend or a mere neighbour, seemed similar in that regard. You didn’t have a whole winter to spend with her but you did have questions. A lot of them. 

So you started with her name.

It took maybe a moment too long for your question to register with her, as if she’d almost forgotten you were there, but when it did, she answered, “Name’s Leah.” 

You smiled. 

“Well, thanks for doing this, Leah,” you said, “I really do appreciate it.” 

“It’s uh, it’s no problem.” She shook her head, ducking under a low-hanging branch and trudging forward. 

“And, you know, I’m glad to hear he’s not completely alone out here.” 

Leah turned then, briefly.

“Daryl can be hard to get to know, but he's a good man,” you elaborated. 

That time, her lips curled up into a gentle smile that felt more genuine than any other you’d seen from her. It was bittersweet, her eyes heavy with a type of understanding that once only you held for him. 

That should’ve been your first sign. 

At the end of her lead, there was an old cabin, surrounded by woods, decorated with tools hanging off the worn wooden walls. The porch was surrounded by floor-to-ceiling glass. It must’ve made for a cozy spot to watch the sunset or the rain pour down, evident by the rocking chairs next to the door. 

Two chairs. 

From what Carol had been telling you, Daryl didn’t seem to like company much nowadays. That, and the everlasting need for your presence at Alexandria, was why you’d been reluctant to venture out before. After all, you always expected him to cross your doorstep back home at some point, even if the days had dragged on into weeks, and the weeks into months. Maybe he’d grown lonely, nevertheless. Maybe Leah had filled that gap for him. 

There, in that thought, you felt that first pierce of hurt in your heart sink deeper, tearing you open like a dull knife. 

If he was lonely, he could’ve come back. 

“Daryl should be back soon,” she sighed, stepping up to the porch and opening the door for you, “you can wait inside.” 

You nodded, placing your foot on the first step. 

Something felt… different. Wrong. 

The cabin was nice, more warm and welcoming than Leah had been, and yet, the thump of your boots on the old porch felt invasive. A feeling settled in your gut when you passed through the door, that no matter how comfortable and inviting the home appeared, that comfort, that invitation, was not made for you. 

You weren’t supposed to be here. 

Leah headed directly for the fireplace to your right, at the edge of what looked like a living room. She fiddled with some twigs and other kindles, quick to start a fire while you looked around. 

Light poured in through the windows, handmade curtains half drawn. There was a table to your left, next to a small kitchen. A pile of clean plates sat next to the stove you doubted worked and some of Daryl’s bolts were sprawled across the table. They looked new, and when you inhaled, you could still smell the freshly carved wood. 

Looking back at Leah, her long hair was dangerously close to the bundle of flames she tended. As if she could feel your eyes on her, she tucked away the loose strands and continued to work with the same pout. Your chest tightened. She really was unfazed by your presence. She knew about Alexandria. She knew Daryl had friends outside of this sprawling forest. Hell, she was close enough to the man to invite you into his house without him being there. And yet, she’d barely flinched at your name, as if she’d never heard it before… 

Looking down at the couch, the stack of books beside it, and the blanket draped over top. There were small holes where the knitting had been loosened; it was handmade. Everything was made for this cabin, made to fit the home Daryl had been building here. A home away from Alexandria, devoid of those photos he secretly kept of your friends— family. A home that lacked any resemblance to the one he’d spent years fighting for before he went off on his own. 

A home without you. 

Maybe that was what really hurt. Daryl had been gone for years now, and while you missed him every single day, you never felt the all-consuming dread that ate away at you now. The idea that he had started over, with no thought of you or the rest of his family back home, was aching deep in your chest, gnawing at every tender bit of your body. 

“How long has—“ you lost track of the words when she looked back up at you. She was so nonchalant, so unaware of— or maybe just unbothered by— your heart ripping apart from the literal sight of him moving on.

Moved on. 

The blank look she gave you reaffirmed what you already knew; your pain wasn’t her problem, not her fault— even if it felt like she was the catalyst for your hope losing its last stand. Swallowing down the lump of tension in the back of your throat, feigning the confidence she so casually had, you continued this time, “How long has he lived here?” 

Leah shrugged. “A couple months. It took a while to convince him to move in.” 

“Move in?” 

She stood up as the fire began to grow. “I figured another winter by that river wouldn’t do him any good.” 

“I— I’m sorry, I thought you said this was Daryl’s place?” 

“It’s just as much his as it is mine.”

The tone shifted, then. Her words were so matter-of-fact, so indifferent to the massive meaning behind a man like Daryl— your Daryl— moving in with someone. 

As if they didn’t make your heart drop through the floor, to be buried in the cold earth. 

You couldn’t even think a single syllable of a reply, nevertheless a word. Your mouth hung open as you stared ahead. Leah walked across the room, grabbing a log of firewood from the back, and before you could even realize your eyes had followed her, they caught on something else next to the pile of wood. 

Long curtains framed a small doorway. They reminded you of the prison’s cells. For a moment, you half expected to see Daryl’s familiar shadow behind your curtains, waiting to walk you to your guard shift where he’d end up sat beside you, spending the entire four hours by your side. A glimpse of the wooden panels lining the walls dragged you down from those heartwarming memories to the living nightmare that was unfolding in this cabin. Beyond the curtains, the room was small and dimly lit by the few rays of sunlight that peaked through, but the sight was undeniable. A bed— one bed— roughly made with two pillows and a big blanket. Sheets sprawled out like they’d been used just the night before. An all too familiar knife placed next to the side that must be his and a hairbrush on the other.

Her side. 

It was so domestic you wanted to vomit. Acidity crawled up your throat, tightening your windpipe until you could barely inhale without a whiff of bile. Your stomach turned, and God, you could actually throw up.

“You know,” you croaked out, “Maybe he uh— maybe I should— should just leave a note. I should— I, uh— I need to get back.” 

The two dinners packed in your bag taunted you; you didn’t need to go back yet. You hadn’t planned on it, at least not until after you convinced him to come back with you. 

“I’m sure he’ll wander in soon,” she glanced out the ajar front door. 

The door called you forward. You all but stumbled toward it, steps quickening with every inch closer to fresh air. Every inch farther from their home and their bed. You prayed the nausea would lift, that the breath in your lungs would fill again, and you wouldn’t feel so sickeningly close to tears. 

“But if you need to—“ she began, before she turned back and saw you. 

There might as well have been a sign spelling out all your deepest worries and heartbreaks hanging off your neck; she looked through you, cold eyes picking you apart down to your very last thought. Your eyes jumped across the room, frantic to find something— anything else— to look at because every time you even thought of her and him, you could still taste the lingering burn of bile at the back of your throat, feel the weight of the anvil pushing down on your chest, and the tears pooling at your eyes.

To look at her? 

You just couldn’t. 

Quick on your heel, you turned your back to her and made a final dash to the sweet relief of the forest’s air; away from walls that seemed to be closing in on you, from those damn crossbow bolts— from any resemblance of him. 

“Just tell him Judith’s—“ your parting words were cut short as you slammed into something strong and warm. 

Familiar. 

Daryl was here, coming home to her. 

Stumbling back, you fell silent. There was something tortuous about the way you just stood there and soaked him in. With every inch of his clean clothes and trimmed bangs that your teary eyes dragged across, something inside you pulled, tighter and tighter, until the string snapped and you— 

You should have known. 

Aaron knew. Michonne too. Maybe they never said it outright, but that was why she never asked you to go looking for him, not even when her daughter cried feverish wishes. What the others could so clearly notice with his visits becoming more and more spaced out, you lived in denial of. 

This wasn’t a sudden betrayal. It wasn’t a mistake he made over a night of one too many drinks. He wasn’t stuck in a pit of loneliness that only she could pull him out of. No. This happened a long time ago, and from the looks of the shape of his— their— home and the cool demeanour of the woman he was sharing it with, it’d been growing for a long time too. 

He found a new home. He made one. And he looked good; healthy and cared for. 

Even if it was all without you. 

Then all that pain, all that boiling rage you sealed inside, leaked out with only a tear. 

“Judith has the flu. She kept asking for you to come…” your eyes wandered around the cabin they lived in, and you couldn’t help but whimper out the last word, “… home.” 

His lips parted, then closed again, and you almost wondered how many times she had— 

Fuck. 

You bit your cheek, eyes fluttering as another tear slipped past. 

There was nothing more you wanted than to keep your eyes low, to keep your expression solid— it should’ve been easy to look away from him, to find yourself anywhere but deep in those tragic blue eyes. Yet, it was as if he was a damn magnet, pulling you in deeper and deeper with every second he held his breath and watched you fall apart. 

He’d always been so leveled, so calm and sensible in whatever situation he was thrown in. It was why he was so good out on his own, able to navigate danger like it was second nature. Now, he had no idea what the hell to do. It was obvious. Not once in those long, brutal years you shared had you seen him look like this before. Not when his brother died. Not when he finally escaped the Sanctuary. Not even when Rick went missing. Every time he was dropped in a dark maze, he was able to find his way out with sheer determination and a bit of hope. 

But right now, he looked hopeless. 

As if the iron grip on your heart wasn’t tight enough, to watch the man you once knew so well almost fall apart by the mere sight of you squeezed out your last drop of hope. And at that moment, no matter how much you despised it, you blamed yourself; for coming, for finding her, for making this into the thing it had to be now. 

You should have fucking known. 

“Judith? Your brother’s kid?” 

Leah spoke up when neither you nor Daryl could. There was a cruel casualness carried along her words for the severity of this moment between you and him. Tear-rimmed eyes flickered across the room, staring at the woman who somehow found a way to grow amongst Daryl’s walls, to weave her way into his heart and his home. A feat you’d never quite figured out how to accomplish. Not completely, at least. 

The longer you looked at her tepid expression, not even a wrinkle of worry or concern in her face, the more you wondered what the hell she could give him that you couldn’t. Which wasn’t fair, to her or you, not when she didn’t even know who you were until you showed up by the creek today. Dragging your eyes away from her, you looked down at your boots, trying to think of the dirt on your toes and not the way your throat almost closed up from the pain and anger trying to suffocate you. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come. I mean, it's been…” you wiped a stray tear from your cheek, “… years.” 

It had been years; years of picking away at his surly exterior with every kind smile you offered, years of promises to always stick together, years of waiting and waiting for the moment everything settled enough to give whatever was blooming between you two a proper chance to grow. 

Then Rick died, and the years lost the optimism that once made the waiting tolerable. 

And just like you had for all those years, you found your way back to those bittersweet blue eyes, once more. The ones that always held a touch too much care for his own liking, that once told what he wanted to say, but never could, with just a look. Except now, you couldn’t tell a damn thing what he was thinking beyond all the pain and regret of his glossy tears. 

Despite your own anguish ripping your heart apart, you couldn’t help but think that if he’d let you, you could’ve loved him with every shade of orange and yellow in those early sunrises and late sunsets you once shared. You could’ve loved him with all your heart— just as well as you could only hope she did— if he'd let you. 

The time had never been right. Not for you and him. 

You swallowed, then offered one last parting, “Just take care of yourself, alright?” 

If he’d let you go then, you could’ve ended it there, with only the knowledge of his shame and her existence to haunt you. But he stepped forward, beckoning you away from the mercy of the forest and back to him. 

“Can I— can we talk?” his voice cracked. 

The shame was potent in his tone, practically dripping from his lips as the words tumbled out of him. If it had been before, you would’ve reached up and brushed that concern away from his brow, desperate to soothe just a hint of his pain. Now, to reach your hand up and touch him just felt wrong. 

Tired, you shook your head, “It’s fine, Daryl.” 

“Nah—“ 

You cut him off, “Don’t. Please, don’t. I just… I got it wrong.” 

“No,” he huffed, like it hurt him to even think that, “no, ya didn’t.” 

Your mouth fell open, eyes turned questioning and almost hurt at the idea that he thought this wasn’t a final, unforgiving answer to every what-if you shared under the moon. Blurred with tears, you looked to her, standing on the sidelines just out of earshot of his whispers, and then dragged back up his frame. He watched your movements, saw the pain the potent acknowledgment of her caused you by the way you chewed the inside of your lip— God, he knew that look. He knew you. To see you so distraught and torn by what he’d done… 

A tear of his own slipped past when you finally mumbled, “I did.” 

There was that look. The one you used to know catch all too often under the stars of the farm, or the prison, or Alexandria. Every time before, you gave him the patience he needed, waited for him to find his words and tell you how he couldn’t even imagine making it through his brutal world without you by his side— how he didn’t even want to entertain the thought. How much he cared for you, how much he needed you. 

Through the first winter, through the loss of the prison, through the war, and then through Rick— you always waited for him. 

Things were different now. 

So you left, and he let you. 

—————————————————————————————

A/N: this fic started with me having a lil idea of “ouch how horrible would it be for poor reader to find out about leah by seeing their BED” and... well... it became this.

leah.. omg leah. not sure if I got her character right but lets be real, she didn’t have much of one to start with

anyway can’t rly blame daryl she was sexy (mariana do not interact pls ily)

if you’re reading this, thank you! I hope you enjoyed this fic. please feel free to leave feedback, it helps so much and I love to read it. have a lovely day <3

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #Daryl Dixon / reader #daryl / reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl x you #The Walking Dead #twd fanfiction #Norman Reedus #daryl dixon imagine #norman reedus imagine #norman reedus fanfic #twd #daryl dixon fanfic #twd fanfic #madi writes

[starlessea]

Your scent lingered

Drabble: Come morning, you leave behind nothing but crumpled sheets and your scent. But Daryl craves more.

A/N I'm starting a 10-min drabble series where I write something on my phone quick before bed. Here's the first.

Your scent lingered but you never did.

Daryl wondered why that was - why you'd pack yourself up and haul yourself out of town before his eye could crack open to the dawn.

It wasn't a commitment thing. You were committed to a lot of things: him, sex, chaos.

And you always came back.

You were always there when he needed - with fingers of ice but breaths of fire, and a heart a few degrees south of molten core.

But then you were gone. Away with the night and like a fleeting dream come morning.

The excuses would vary. "Supply run." "Weapon maintenance." "Some Alexandrian snob got a blocked drain (again)."

Daryl had grown tired. Tired of waking up tired to an empty pillow and a scent that always lingered.

Would it kill you to once stay for the dawn, to stay in his arms through morning and to only leave once the knocks came at the door?

It probably would. He knew that by now.

The only thing in this world powerful enough to tie you down was a headstone. And even then, he wasn't sure.

So Daryl stretched out his arms over the king-sized, royally pompous bed, and felt his fingertips brush the sheets where you had lain.

Warmth lingered there. But you did not.

And so Daryl spent half an hour more wondering where you had scuttled off to in your usual hurry, and why you'd kissed his chest so tenderly as you dressed near his bedside.

He'd been awake then. He always was when you left. And every time, you'd whisper him a chaste goodbye as though it were the last, and Daryl would struggle to feign sleep - fretting that it might really be.

Your scent lingered but you never did.

Yet that alone was enough for Daryl. Because there would come a day when neither would remain. And on that day, Daryl knew, this world would become a drop more cold.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x you #twd fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #the walking dead daryl #twd fanfic #twd #the walking dead fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon drabble #daryl dixon imagine #twd drabble #twd imagines #twd imagine #norman reedus #norman reedus fanfic #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon x oc #daryl x you #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #starlessea #fanfic #fanfiction

[ravendixon]

[A scene I never thought I needed.]

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #norman reedus #daryl dixon fanfiction #norman reedus fanfic #the walking dead fluff #daryl x y/n

[holdmytesseract]

Frozen Hearts?

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Request: "Hi um..this is my first time asking and I don't know if your taking requests but I was wondering if you could do a Daryl and the reader get into a heated argument about how the reader went missing for a couple of days while on a run and Daryl goes after them but can't find them so he thinks that the same thing happened to them like the same thing happened to Sophia (if that makes any sense?) And after a couple days after Daryl lits a building on fire for some reason? And reader comes stumbling out of the building and Daryl sees that and the listener is just trying to get away from the fire and Daryl just grabs them and drags them away. Then he throws them on the ground and starts to yell at them and the listener starts to yell back and you could choose the rest :D Thank you!! ^^" - Requested by a nonny! 😄

Summary: You get lost on a run, due to a herd of walkers overrunning the small town you and your group went to. Daryl spends days outside, searching for you. When he does find you, it comes to a heated argument…

Warnings: the usual TWD stuff - walkers, fire, injuries, angst, fluff

Set in Season 9!

Word Count: 2,9k

a/n: Ahhhh, I love thiiis! Hope you like it as well, nonny! 🥰 Thanks for requesting! 😁

Quick note: I know, it's unlikely for wood to burn, when there's snow outside and so on, but ahhh, it just fit so well... Sorry, I hope you guys don't mind!

Tagging: @lokisgoodgirl (Tell me, if I should stop tagging you in my Daryl fics, boo! I promise, I won't be mad! x) @in-this-minute @thefemininemystiquee @hotgirlsshareaccounts @azanoni

If you want to be added to my Daryl taglist, please let me know! 😊

MASTERLIST

The wind howled around the houses of Alexandria. It was going to be a few hard months, everyone could tell. There wasn't much time left before the start of the winter. About one or two weeks - according to Eugene. So, the goal was to get as much supplies as somehow possible, in order to get everyone through those cold months ahead. Everybody helped as best as possible - including you. Together with a few other citizens from Alexandria, you went on a run to gather some more medical stuff. There was a small town - about a day ride away from the community. Daryl had found it on a hunt a few weeks ago. The town was in the forest, rather hidden, so you hoped it was most widely untouched.

Leading a group of three people, you made your way to the said town in the planned time slot. It took you almost exactly 24 hours. Together, you had searched for a safe place to stay the night. Everything went smoothly. Even the break in of the abandoned doctor's office. But once you all had made it out alive and well, everything went south on a sudden. Seemingly out of nowhere, a big herd of walkers - probably about 30 or 40 literally overran the town. There were too many of them and too less of you to fight them off, and in between all the panic and trouble, you got separated from the group...

Daryl didn't come often to Alexandria these days. He spent the most time out in the woods, still searching for Rick and trying to somehow get over his grief. It wasn't that easy, though. Alexandria just reminded him even more of his lost brother, so he didn't turn up a lot. But when he paid the community a visit, then because of one reason... You. You two knew each other since the prison and grew incredibly close over the time and all the shitty, horrible things you experienced together with your family.

This time he walked through the steel gates of Alexandria, it was the same reason as always... You.

The archer greeted everyone he saw on his way, until he reached your small, cosy house. Just as he wanted to knock at the door, his actions got interrupted by a voice behind him. "She isn't here, Daryl." Michonne. Word had spread fast, that the archer was back in the community. He spun around to face his friend. "What ya mean, she ain't here?" Michonne took a deep breath and stepped closer, pulling the winter coat she wore ever tighter. It was freezing. "Y/N went out on a run three days ago. Things went south. A large herd of walkers overran the small town you found and-" Daryl felt how his heart beat increased, pumping more blood through his veins. "She dead?" He asked dryly, tears already starting to build up in his eyes. Daryl lost his brother... He couldn't lose you, too. But to his sheer relief, shook Michonne her head. "No... Just missing. We hope she isn't dead, but... We don't know. Two people of her group came back and told us." "Did you search for 'er?" The leader of Alexandria squeezed her eyes shut and began to slowly shake her head. "We wanted, but like you see, it already started to snow. Eugene's weather forecast wasn't exactly correct. A snow storm is coming - and we both know it'd be too dangerous to go out there now. I'm sorry." Daryl clenched his teeth, felt how anger started to flood his system. Snow storm or not. It was no excuse to just leave you out there alone with dozens of walkers and other threats. "For you." Daryl simply said, before he rushed past Michonne. "Daryl! You can't go out there now! Especially not alone!" He adjusted his poncho and tapped the side of his right thigh to let Dog know he should follow him - which the dog immediately did out course. "You can't stop me! I ain't sittin' here around 'n lettin' Y/N out there alone, jus' because of a little bit snow." Michonne tried to argue with the archer, but it was no use of course. Daryl didn't listen to another word his friend said, slung his crossbow back over his shoulder and marched straight for the gates. "Come on, Dog." Dog barked at the call of his name and quickly followed his master. Michonne followed the pair as well, still trying to stop her friend. "Daryl!" He didn't listen, of course. Once Daryl Dixon was determined to do something, there was no stopping him. Before the leader of Alexandria was able to catch up with the archer, the heavy metal doors got already closed shut behind him.

Daryl searched for you. Day after day after day. His first destination had been of course the small town you went to on the run. There had been still quite a few walkers - some of them on the verge of freezing to the ground. Daryl quickly got rid of them and searched together with Dog every nook and cranny of the town. "Y/N?!" The small school. Empty. "Y/N?!" The doctor's office. Empty. "Y/N?!" The supermarket. Empty. He searched everywhere, even at the gas station, but he found nothing besides a few other walkers. Usually, the archer had no problem in finding people. He was a tracker, it was his forte, but the horrible weather conditions and the constant snow fall made the situation worse. Together with the constant wind, erasing all traces, it was almost impossible. But Daryl wouldn't be Daryl, if he gave up just yet, so he continued to look for you for another few days, scoured the area around the town for you - but it was no use. He just couldn't find you. It bothered Daryl. More than he was ready to admit. The fact that you were still missing unlocked something deep inside him. Not just fear, no... Awful flashbacks from the beginning. The dreadful day little Sophia went missing. How he and the others - but especially he searched for days - almost weeks, but couldn't find her. He couldn't find the girl. Daryl failed. And because of that, they lost Sophia. The archer would never forget the moment she walked out of that damn barn, hissing and snarling - turned into a walker. He would never forget how Carol broke down, crying. Or how Rick shot her in the head in front of everybody. What if history was repeating itself? What if that was exactly what happened to you as well? Gods, he could never forgive himself if that was the case. Daryl just had to find you.

Another day passed. Over a week and you were still missing. The only good thing was, that the harsh snow storm had stopped. Now it was just bitterly cold outside. Daryl's plan of searching led him even further away from Alexandria.

He and Dog had everything under control, scoured profoundly the area - until the archer found himself in a very unpleasant situation... A large herd of walkers surprised him, caused him and Dog to run for their lives. The archer didn't know how this could happen. They just came out of nowhere. While he tried to get away from the hungry, snarling threat behind him, he tried to think of a plan to get rid of them. Fate seemed to be good to him for once. A small, wooden hut came in sight, as he quickly walked - running was for a longer period not possible, due to the snow. Panting, he searched in his pockets for matchsticks. This could work, he thought. No... It had to work. Fighting them was no option. Taking on twenty plus walkers alone could be difficult. And he couldn't run away forever as well. It would drain his energy - and he hadn't exactly that much left anyways. Setting this hut on fire was probably his only chance. Daryl just hoped, that the wood wasn't too wet from the snow. He had to try it, hadn't he? So, he marched as fast as possible up to the hut.

 After a few desperate tries of getting the old wood to burn and the threatening snarling coming closer and closer, he finally made it. The wood caught fire. Daryl rounded the small hut to bring himself and Dog into safety, watching the fire spreading quickly. Soon, it would go up in flames. Daryl was relieved that his plan worked out - until he saw the back door of the hut bursting open. Someone stumbled out of the hut, coughing. The archer narrowed his eyes, only to recognise that it was... His eyes immediately widened again. You... It was you! Daryl literally jumped up from his hiding spot, "Stay, Dog." and ran over to you. "Y/N!"

You were still coughing heavily as you tried to get away from the fire. You tried to run, but it was impossible, like the searing pain in your leg reminded you immediately. A painful hiss escaped your lips. You looked down, examined the gaping wound on your thigh again. It was bleeding - again. You somehow made it to slice open your thigh as you tried to escape from the walkers, back in that small town. "Y/N!" You lifted immediately your head at the call of your name - and saw a figure running towards you. You couldn't believe your eyes. Was this...? Could it be? "Daryl?!" You cried out, hissing in pain again. He reached you a few moments later, holding onto your shoulders. "Y/N?! Are ya alright?" You nodded with tears in your eyes. Gods, you were so happy to see him. "Y-Yeah, just... Hurt my leg..." Daryl quickly gazed down to take a look at the wound, but got distracted by the herd of walkers getting closer and closer, reminding him of the threat, which was on its way to the burning hut. "C'mon. We gotta get away from 'ere." The archer wrapped your arm around his shoulder and his arm around your waist to steady you and help you walk.

Of course, was Daryl happy that he had found you, but the bottled up feelings and fears of losing you just like he lost Sophia, caused his blood to boil. It was only a matter of time, until he was going to burst - something you couldn't know. Once he had brought you into safety, he let go of you - literally pushing you away from him, his feelings taking over and resulting in you, stumbling backwards and falling to the snowy ground, because of your injured leg. "Daryl, what-" You wanted to ask, but he didn't let you. "Goddamnit, Y/N! What were ya thinkin'?!" He yelled. You looked up at him confused. What was that now about? You questioned yourself. Why was he suddenly yelling? The sudden off behaviour of your friend turned your mood sour as well. "What the hell, Daryl? Why are you yelling at me? What's your problem?" Daryl scoffed. "What my problem is?!" He looked around, as if trying to somehow compose himself - without success. "You are my problem, woman! Why did ya go on that damn run, alone?!" Now it was your time to scoff. "I wasn't alone! I had a team!" "Ya call those three Savior pricks a team? For god's sake, Y/N... That ain't a team! They left ya alone out there, saved their own asses and went back to Alexandria! Why didn't you take Aaron with ya? Or Rosita? Or me?" You swallowed hard at his words. Did they really do that? Did they really give up on you? "Ya could've died! Bit or eaten by a walker - or worse! What if the Whisperers would've found ya?! Ya could've been killed!" "Right, Dixon! Could have! But I didn't!" You stood up from the cold ground. Your leg protested against this, but you didn't care, ignored the pain and just clenched your jaw. "I can look after myself!" You turned on your heels, ready to walk away. "I don't need a watchdog - and I certainly don't need you!" Ouch. Those words cut deep. It was an invisible punch to the gut. Daryl was like petrified for a moment, as he watched you hobble away, further into the woods. He didn't know, that you regretted the thing you said immediately, but you were too angry to take it back. The archer swallowed hard, now angry at himself for letting his bottled-up feelings take over. Did you really mean that? You didn't need him? This heated argument made Daryl realise two things. One: He cared about you - a lot. And two: No matter if you didn't need him. He needed you.

Afraid, that he might have lost you for real now, he quickly ran after you, with Dog close behind. "Y/N! Y/N! Wait!" You heard him calling for you, but didn't even think about stopping. "Please!" But Daryl was quicker on foot than you were and not injured, so he quickly caught up on you. "Y/N, please! 'M sorry!" He gently grabbed your arm to turn you around. "Oh now you're sorry?!" You yelled at him. "You almost killed me by burning this damn hut down and then you just yelled at me without a reason and now you're sorry?!" Daryl hung his head, long, brown strands of his curls falling into his face. "'M sorry..." He repeated, causing you to just scoff, before you turned around and began to walk away once again. That was the moment Daryl realised, that it was probably time to open up to you. To let the true feelings speak. Not his anger.

"I-I jus' yelled at ya, 'cause..." He sighed. "'Cause I was worried sick. Was almost shittin' myself when Michonne told me that ya didn't come back from the run... That the others lost ya... I went out, searchin' for ya, day after day. I was so afraid of losin' ya... So afraid of failin' to find ya - jus' like I failed finding Sophia." You stopped abruptly in your tracks at his words and felt your heart aching at his words. "I yelled at ya, 'cause I care 'bout ya, Y/N... A lot... I couldn't stand losin' ya. I-I need ya. Dunno what to do with myself if ya would be dead." You expected a lot for him to say - but certainly not that. His words literally left you breathless, as he opened up his heart for you.

Without hesitation, you turned to face him, smiling softly. "Daryl Dixon..." You started, shaking your head. "You never fail to surprise me." Daryl looked at you, stunned. "I jus' poured out ma heart to ya - and you... smile?" "Uh, um, yes, because now I know that the feeling is mutual." He furrowed his brows. "M-Mutual?" You nodded, stepping closer to him, until you could place your hands on his grey poncho clad chest. All the anger suddenly vanished; thrown out of the window. Daryl flinched a bit at your sudden touch, didn't see it coming. "I care about you, too, Daryl. So much that it often keeps me awake at night, when you are out there alone to search for Rick or hunt. I liked you from the very beginning. From the day you and the others saved us from Woodbury and brought us to the prison." You smiled even wider, rubbed your hands affectionately over his chest. "Okay, admittedly, I was a bit scared of you at first, 'cause you were quite a bit intimidating, but... I-I guess with time turned intimidation into admiration. Admiration turned into affection. Affection turned into a crush, and well... The crush turned into love. W-What I'm tryin' to say is... I-I think I l-love you." Daryl blinked, still visibly stunned. He needed a moment to catch up. But once, the words had fully sunk in, a warm feeling started to spread throughout the archer's body. A feeling, he never felt that strong in his life before, but he always knew was there – since the prison. Love. It couldn't be something different. Slightly awkwardly, he lifted his hands to place them on your hips, pulling you gently closer. "Love ya, too." The words he never used in his life before, slipped so easily over his lips all of a sudden.

You were beaming now. Your face almost started to hurt from all the smiling. Quickly, you pressed a short, soft kiss on Daryl's lips, taking him by surprise once again. He looked at you shocked at first, but then started to smile, blushing. "Can we go home now, please?" You asked after staring into his beautiful blue eyes for a long moment. "I'm freezing my ass off and this-" You pointed to your thigh. "Really hurts." Daryl nodded quickly, "'Course." and quickly moved to pick you up bridal style. A soft squeak left your lips, followed by a giggle. "Daryl! What are you doing?" "What does it look like?" You shook your head, still giggling, but clasped your hands around his neck. "You can't carry me all the way." Daryl started to walk, whistling for Dog to follow him. "I can and I will. Gotta take care of ma woman." My woman... You liked the sound of that.

#daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon oneshot #twd #norman reedus x reader #norman reedus characters #norman reedus fanfic

[littlegodzilla]

So it's season 2 of twd, and reader and norman have picked out a house in Georgia and are moving in together.

(both now have 3 season contracts for twd) the audience really responded to both their characters. reader's character is like daryl: good at hunting and tracking. (maybe it's similar to the first movie they did together. the writers have the characters as best friends).

then norman's ex (please make it an imaginary person, not his actual ex helena) is cast in a recurring role. meant to be daryl's love interest.

MEANWHILE reader and norman find out that she is pregnant! they're both so happy. But what about the show?

The show will have to make reader's character pregnant, too. But is daryl the father? someone else? How does this affect their relationship on and offscreen?

(maybe his ex is killed off sooner than expected and daryl gets with reader's character? or shane is the father? or there is another actor (hot actor of your choice) who is cast on the show as reader's love interest?)

Okay, maybe that's a lot. We'll talk. I hope this all makes sense. <3

Hiii!!

As you wish, we have more about Norman and Plus Size! Reader! Thank you very much for the support and thanks @minervadashwood for your incredible ideas, I love them so much.

Okay, enjoy this new part you all!!

Hope you like!!

******************

My Big Girl.

Norman Reedus x Plus Size!Reader.

Part 3.

Requested by: @minervadashwood

Warnings: Little jealousy. fluff. smut (Norman is a horny boy, sorry.) Norman stills blonde.

Words: 3400

Taglist: @phoenixblack89 @browneyes528 @lilythemadqueen @darylsgarden @thefemininemystiquee @green-eyedladywrites @hail-yourselves @ruinedbythehobbit @xxtinasxxblog @ravenwings73 @spenciepoo338 @b-tchymoon @minervadashwood @darylssluttt @let-love-bleeds-red @ravendixon @livingdeadblondequeen

*****************

You open the front door, your heart pounding in your chest. A huge smile forms on your mouth as the inside welcomes you.

Welcomes you.

Norman wraps his arms around your body as he rests his chin on your shoulder. A smile forms on your mouth, reaching up to stroke his hair as he kisses your cheek.

You've finally bought a house in Georgia, nothing too over the top, something comfortable and cozy for the time you spend there filming the new season of TWD. Because yes, you're still on the show. Apparently people have been fascinated by Daryl and Merle's story, getting Norman to sign on for several more seasons. Your character is also being liked, from the first episode they changed some scenes and plots for the first as well as the second season. Apparently they wanted to make a love trio between Rick, Lori and Shane, but they saw the chemistry you and Norman had and decided that your character would be Shane's girlfriend. You didn't mind, you had a good relationship with John and he was fun to work with, Norman found it a little harder to be present in the scenes you shared. Especially if you had to kiss each other.

"Is that necessary?" He'd say, crossing his arms. "I mean, he's already touching her hand, there's no need to kiss." I growled protesting like a child.

"Save that jealousy for your scenes Norman, they'll do us good to make it more real." Scoffed Greg making you all laugh.

Of course things changed with the end of last season, once Shane was out of the game it left a lot of open doors to play with, both in the main plot and in the love theme between your character and Daryl. It wasn't a forced situation, after all, in the original comic Shane Walsh didn't live long either.

Norman's kisses down your neck bring you back to reality, you smile and purr, letting yourself do it. His hands tug at your shirt, hiding under it, squeezing your breasts and you hear him growl in your ear.

"God, they're even bigger than before..." He gasps pushing his hard crotch against your ass.

That's another piece of good news you've recently learned - you're going to be parents! You hadn't really planned it this way, you hadn't really talked about it seriously either, but it was clear to you that someday, if Norman was ready too, you'd like to have a child. Watching him interact with Chandler and Madison made your heart flutter. He was good and kind to them, joking around and helping them get their nerves out of the way in front of the cameras. You knew that being a real father would involve more than just games and jokes, but something told you Norman could surprise you so much more.

"I'm pregnant." You told him one day. When you weren't in Georgia, you had also bought an apartment in New York, near the China Town area. Norman was drinking a beer and got the bottle halfway to his mouth.

"What?" was the only thing he was able to say and it scared you.

"I-I'm pregnant..." You whispered with some fear, now unsure how he was going to react.

"A-and..." He stammered and walked towards you, taking the beer from your hand. "Y-you can't drink, i-it could be bad for our son and..." His voice trembled turning into little whispers.

Maybe it wasn't reaction you expected, at least at first, but as he was aware of the news, the bigger your smile became, as you saw his eyes begin to sparkle and even a smile formed on his mouth.

"Our son..."

"Yes..."

After that you needed to talk to the TWD production after all, it was going to be a long time filming, your belly was going to get bigger and bigger and even though you all end up losing some weight due to the intense temperatures when you were filming, everyone would notice some changes. But it didn't seem to be something they were worried about, they gave you congratulations and it was all in their hands.

"Norman... the door..." You gasp, closing your eyes.

"Right..." He grunts pushing it with his foot, slamming it shut with his heel. A chuckle escapes you and you turn to look at him.

"Our stuff is out..."

"Screw them, I'll get them in later." He assures you, kissing you intensely, making you laugh against his mouth.

He gropingly guides you to your room. He only pulls apart a little to remove your shirt and his eyes look at you with latent desire. You feel your cheeks light up a little, Norman has always been an easy man to read and you can perfectly see the love and lust that is shaking him at that very moment. His hands caress your shoulders slowly moving down to your belly, always round and soft, now it is more bulging and hard, Norman's hands touch it adoringly. You never thought you'd meet someone who loved something you didn't yet have with you so much. He kisses you again with intensity, his hands leave your belly to unclasp your bra, you sigh with relief, your whole body is changing and growing more than normal, wearing a bra is sometimes becoming a nightmare. A moan escapes your mouth as Norman catches one of your nipples in his mouth, licking and sucking, while with his other hand he massages your other tit, pinching your nipple between his fingers. All that attention gives you goose bumps and your panties keep getting soaked.

You push him gently to break the contact, look at each other and kiss him to start undressing him. Norman helps you with quick and somewhat clumsy movements, you kiss his mouth again, bite his chin and move down his neck as your fingers play with his chest hair. Norman bends his head sighing, his fingers caress the red marks on your skin, due to the bra, and kisses the strap line imprinted on your shoulder. He tenses slightly as you pull his pants to the floor and try to kneel in front of him.

"Wait, wait."

"What's wrong?" You look at him confused.

"M-maybe you shouldn't do that... I mean, maybe it's not the most comfortable position..."

"Norman...we both know we've been in 'more uncomfortable positions'" You start to say, watching him redden. "I'm pregnant, it doesn't invalidate, I think I can still suck you off..."

"Yes, but... God, why do you have such a dirty mouth?" he grunts with some desperation, his cock still pulsing inside his pants. "Come." He asks you, preventing you from kneeling on the floor.

He guides you to the bed, where he carefully sits you down and positions himself between your legs, his crotch still hidden by his briefs, in front of your eyes.

"See, this way you're comfortable and I don't feel guilty because I want you to suck me off." He says sincerely and a giggle escapes you at the sight of his red ears.

You settle on the edge of the mattress, kissing his abdomen, following the line of hair that traces your way from his belly button to his underwear. Norman sighs as he feels your lips on top of the fabric, moistening his length.

"Don't play with me, honey..." He warns you with a growl.

You smile and slowly pull down his briefs, his cock rises before you, you hold it rubbing it slowly without taking your eyes off him, before opening your mouth and licking his glans. Norman gasps as he feels you catch him fully in your mouth, you hollow your cheeks sucking harder as your head pumps at a slow pace.

"Oh fuck, I love your dirty mouth, baby." He bites the tip of his tongue, slowly moving his hips against you.

You hum against his length, the vibration of your voice runs all over his cock, seeping pleasure all the way down to his balls, Norman throws his head back letting himself be carried away by the pleasure.

Norman holds your hair and slowly pulls his cock out of your mouth, its tip brushing against your wet, reddening lips.

"So precious and perfect." He smiles and you let out a giggle.

He holds you down and lays you on the bed. He finishes undressing you to stand between your legs. You moan and arch as his fingers enter you, touching those perfect spots he always manages to find as his tongue and lips give due attention to your clit. Your eyes roll every time his fingers twist inside you and his tongue doesn't stop stinging your sensitive muscle.

"No-Norman!" you moan his name as you feel your orgasm jolt you rolling your eyes.

Norman doesn't pull away until your legs stop jerking, unconsciously locked against his head, though he doesn't mind, he loves feeling trapped between your thighs, tasting you, soaking in your scent. Slowly he sits up, licking his lips. He settles between your legs, his lips kiss your thighs, your bulging belly, he plays with your breasts until a new moan escapes your mouth, he keeps moving up and kisses you slowly, moving his hips, the tip of his cock rubbing against your folds. You wrap your legs around his waist, his belly pressing against yours and tensing over your body.

"Hey... "He stops again and you look at him worriedly. "D-do you think we should...?"

"What are you talking about?" Now you're even confused.

"It's just... What if I hit it?" he mumbles and you open your eyes wide. "What if I hit it unintentionally?"

You can't help it, a violent guffaw escapes your mouth, having to cover yourself with both hands. Norman looks uncomfortable, he sits back on his heels looking at you, frowning.

"Honey, this isn't the first time we've had sex, being pregnant."

"I know! But it was smaller, now it's bigger and maybe..."

"Norman, listen to me..." You ask him. You hold his shoulders making him lie on top of you again. "I love your cock, I really do, and yes it's bigger than average, but trust me, you're not going to hit the baby and cause a concussion." You are unable to say that without laughing. Norman fidgets nervously, still a little hesitant. "Besides, the doctor said sex was good for pregnancy." He looks at you cocking his head..

"When did he say that?"

"Honey, are you going to finish what you started or do I have to do it myself?" you sigh with some impatience. Out of the corner of your eye you see his cock straining against his stomach again.

"I love it when you take control..." He grunts and you take it as an invitation, you lean on his shoulders, but. "No." He stops you by holding your wrists, puts your arms above your head and clasps both your hands with one of his. A new cramp of pleasure runs through you. "Not this time, I have to get some of my pride back." He says, a chuckle escapes you that dies in your throat as he slowly enters you.

"Norman..." You gasp his name closing your eyes, biting your lip.

"Fuck, always so tight and wet for me." He snorts and thrusts harder staying wedged inside you.

A moan escapes from both of your mouths. His hand squeezes tighter on your wrists, you wrap your legs around his waist and he begins to move slowly, your hips accompanying him finding that rhythm that drives you both crazy.

The room immediately fills with moans and gasps, the heat of your bodies intoxicating the atmosphere, the increasingly intense pleasure swirling inside your bodies.

"My God Norman, it feels so good!" you cry out arching your back. He releases your wrists and holds your legs apart, spreading them a little wider, thrusting harder, faster, watching his cock lose itself inside you, again and again. "I'm... I'm going to..." You assure him and your hands cup your breasts, playing with your nipples.

"That's it, honey, play with you, let me see you play with your tits." He asks you in a husky voice.

"N-Norman!" you whimper in frustration because suddenly his thrusts are slower.

"What if I didn't let you cum?" He speaks viciously, never taking his eyes off you.

"I'll kill you." You assure him and he chuckles, pausing momentarily, pulling his cock out. "Norman, I swear to God..."

Your threat comes to nothing as he thrusts hard inside you again, your back arches, a guttural moan comes from you, your eyes roll as your orgasm hits you hard, Norman continues to fuck you, feeling your body shudder, your spasms clenching his cock getting himself to cum, he grunts and huffs through his teeth giving a few last thrusts before stopping completely. He lies carefully on top of you, hands bearing his full weight, his face resting in the hollow of your neck. Your arms go around his shoulders, stroking his hair, you hear him purr and smile.

***********

It's been a couple of weeks since you arrived in Georgia, now the whole cast is there, ready to shoot again. You show up on the set to see all your co-stars, Andy and Melissa are the first to come up to you and give you a hug.

"Congratulations" They say at the same time and you laugh.

"You couldn't hold back." You joke and Norman looks at you apologetically.

"You know I can't hide anything from them." He defends himself, but you shake your head, you know how much Andrew and Melissa mean to him, so you have nothing to say.

"Alright guys, I'm glad you're all okay and we have some surprises." Greg wiggles his eyebrows and everyone congratulates you as you break the news. "As you may have seen we've modified the script a bit to introduce pregnancy into the story, plus we have some new people with us that I'd like you to meet." He keeps talking and one by one he introduces the people who will be joining us this season.

Momentarily you notice Norman tense up next to you. Greg finally introduces a tall woman with beautiful hair and striking eyes, she smiles politely and a little self-consciously, but soon spots Norman and her smile grows wider. Clearly they've known each other before.

"Norman!" She greets him and walks toward him to hug him. Norman blocks, but responds to her gesture nervously.

"H-hello, Liz." He whispers pulling away from her.

You know how to read his body perfectly after so long together. You know he's tense, nervous, whoever this woman is, he wasn't expecting her there. Instinctively you take his hand, squeezing it to encourage him, Norman looks at you thanking you for your hand. He smiles and you notice him relax a little.

"How do you two know each other?" You want to know, he tenses his gesture, and shakes his head.

"It's... We were together a while ago..." He looks at you and you nod, there's nothing special about it, you never thought you'd be Norman's first girlfriend, it was stupid to think that. But there's clearly something else.

"And who are you?" Liz asks you and you open your mouth to answer.

"She's my wife." Norman grabs you around the waist and your heart races. "And we're having a baby."

"Ah... congratulations, I guess." She looks at you in surprise, walking away down the set, leaving you alone.

"I'm sorry..." Norman apologizes. "It was a complicated relationship..."

"It's okay, Norman, you don't have to apologize." You smile kissing him. "We've all had a past and you don't have to explain yourself to me..." .... N-nor lie..."

"Of course I want to tell you, and... Did you say lie? I didn't lie to you."

"To Liz... you said I'm your wife..."

"So what, you don't want to be?" He looks at you worriedly and you laugh with a shrug.

"Way to propose." You scoff and he reddens a little.

"I admit I had it planned differently..."

"You had it planned?"

"A little, maybe..." He rubs the back of his neck, nervous.

You laugh again and kiss him, wrapping your arms around his neck. The conversation ends there, none of you press the issue, you focus on the job now that you're all there. The producers tell you how the new season is going to work, your pregnancy is the little that remains as a memory of Shane, the odyssey of the whole group looking for where they can take shelter until they find the prison. Liz's new character.

"Will she be Daryl's girlfriend?" Doubtful questions.

From the last chapters of the first season there was a slight interest from the hunter for your character, nothing exaggerated, but that became more and more evident as Shane was losing his mind, but now it seemed that they wanted to nip that in the bud and involve a third person. It didn't make sense to you.

"Relax, I'm not going to steal him from you." Liz jokes even though her voice doesn't sound kind.

"Liz..."

"Actually she'll be attracted to our good-hearted redneck, we'll be counting on a confused Daryl which I'm sure Norman will play to perfection."

"Sure thing, boss." He nods, fiddling with his script in his hands.

"Unfortunately Liz's character, she won't last long with us..." He looks at the woman apologetically and she laughs.

"We all know how this show works, it's okay, it'll be fun."

"And we'll get back to our little moments between Daryl and our pregnant girl."

Everyone seems to be okay with this, you now understand the situation a little better, but for some reason you're still not comfortable with it. You know you can't get jealous, it's stupid, it's more than obvious that Norman isn't comfortable around Liz, but... she was his girlfriend once upon a time, maybe there's still something between them that maybe....

"Can I talk to you for a moment?" you jump in your own skin when you hear Liz next to you.

"R-right... Is something wrong?"

"I know why Norman chose you..." She starts to speak and you suddenly feel your defenses rise, ready for whatever she has to say. "You're good for him, just look at him. You can tell he cares about you."

You look over at Norman, he's standing back, talking to the rest of your cast mates, but he's got his eye on you, worried about what Liz are talking to you about. You smile.

"Norman has his good and bad things, but he's loyal and he's never going to do anything to really hurt you." You smile Liz giving you a gentle tap on the shoulder. "He's very lucky to have you."

"No...I'm lucky to have him...thank you Liz." You smile gratefully and the woman walks away.

*************

You enter home after a long and hard day at work, neither of you say anything, during the way, Norman has felt you very pensive and that worries him, he has seen Liz talking to you and he doesn't know what she has been able to tell you. Your relationship didn't end badly, but there were some strains that weren't properly ironed out, Norman knows you know he's no saint, but he also doesn't want your head filled with misconceptions and he can't explain himself.

"Are you okay?" he jumps into his skin when he hears you. Your hands caress your belly and you have a tired grimace on your face. You nod and shrug.

"Yeah, I think, I don't know... Are you okay?"

"Tired and surprised, trying to take it all in, I guess." You smile again.

"Hey, if Liz has told you anything that might have upset you..."

"No, she just... wanted to talk to me." You explain. "I think she was worried about you, I guess."

"Worried about me?" a snort escapes him and he walks over to you, wraps his arms around your waist and kisses you very slowly, enjoying you. "I've never been better, and it's because I have you..."

"Norman..." You feel your eyes fill with tears, pregnancy is making you more emotional than usual.

"I'm serious, I've been happy, of course, I have a good life, but..." He smiles and touches your cheeks with his thumbs. "When I think about my future, you are in all my ideas and plans... you and our baby." He assures you and his hands move down to your bulging belly.

"You in mine too..." You whisper trying to hold back tears.

"I love you." He assures you and you feel something cold slip on your finger, you look down discovering a beautiful ring with simple details, Norman shows you that he wears on his middle finger, the same model, bigger. "It's a promise, okay? When we finish this season, when we have our baby with us..."

"Yes, Norman... yes, I do." You smile and hug him, kissing him again.

You both melt in an intense embrace, a kiss that lengthens, soft, charged with all the emotions and feelings that invade you.

All the love you both feel.

**********

I hope you liked it!!

See you in the next stories!!

#my stuff #norman reedus #normanreedus #daryl dixon #ask me #smut #one shot #request #smut request #one shot requests #norman one shot #norman reedus request #norman reedus x reader #norman x reader #norman reedus x plus size reader #norman reedus smut #norman reedus fanfic

[darylsgirl]

Norman Reedus Fan Fictions

Missing Him

When Norman goes away to Georgia filming the walking dead, You find yourself frustrated missing him more than ever. Deciding to give the 50 shades books a chance. He comes home early catching you in the act. 

Word count: 2.7k

Georgia Livin

After a clumsy mistake sent you head first into a walking dead set and into his arms. You were surprised that they had loved it and used that as the new season ending. Going back to work and pretending that it didn’t happen you Run into Norman again. Unable to keep your hands off each other this time.

Word Count: 11k

Chapter Two

After becoming Norman’s love interest on the walking dead, You had received a distressing phone call from home, Were your secrets about to be revealed? You thought Norman would never speak to you again after that one night of passion but another guy making a move forced him to come and admit his feelings for you.

Word Count: 9.9k

Chapter Three

You and Norman had managed to keep your relationship a secret even with him making love to you on camera, When your secret finally comes out live on air the past comes back to haunt you.

Word count: 9.2k

Chapter Four

This was it, Norman was finally showing his love to you by making you his wife. You had to do some damage control once you found out someone had leaked your history to the press. What you didn’t know was who had done it. After a huge shock he seems to betray you.  

Word Count: 10k

Chapter Five

After breaking some big news to Norman, The temptation of the fans almost causes him to betray you. Hurt you leave going home to England. When you have to go back to Georgia for Filming your past comes back to haunt you.

Word count: 10.5 K

The Assistant

Summary: When Norman gets a new Live in assistant who seems set on keeping you apart, Feeling hurt and rejected after not hearing from Norman you decided to confront him. Smut

Word count: 6k

Back to Master list

#norman reedus #smut fanfiction #norman reedus smut #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon #daryldixon #twd daryl #twd #norman reedus fanfic #love norman reedus #american actor #actorslife #actor fanfiction #norman reedus imagines #norman reedus x reader #norman reedus fanfiction #norman reedus icons #norman reedus imagine #melissa mcbride

[feral4daryl]

norman reedus doesn't usually smile this big, specially for pictures where he tends to keep a straight face. even though he looks breath taking either way, i find it so cute when he smiles this wide, all natural, no posing 🥺🥺 also, can we talk about how his canines are a bit more pointy?? it might be my favorite detail about him

i want him to bite me.

#the walking dead #daryl dixon #norman reedus #daryl #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon smut #adorable baby #literally babyboy #daryl dixon twd #twd daryl dixon #norman reedus fanfic #norman reedus icon #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl twd #twd #i love this man sm

[theteasetwrites]

Daddy's Home | Part 1

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: Season 5 (Alexandria) ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: SMUT (18+)—oral sex (male receiving), dominant-ish Daryl, doggystyle, so much dirty talk, like one tiny spank (just a little one), mutual masturbation, vaginal fingering, oh yeah and DADDY KINK, language ❧ Word Count: 4.3k

❧ Summary: When Daryl comes back home from a week away, he doesn't want to sleep. He just wants you.

❧ A/N: Ok so yes I know the title is ridiculous, but like... what else was I gonna call this oneshot ok? Anyway, here's some major daddy kink. Like a lot of daddy kink. Daryl is just daddy. Sorry but he is. I can't explain it. Actually, yes I can. He's a protector, a provider, a big softie. He's a daddy, and I don't even have daddy issues but just let me have this. Goodbye I am never showing my face here again. <;3 Also I simply cannot get over how hot he is in this gif holy mother of god.

The quiet was nice, late nights in Alexandria, gentle summer breeze prickling at your skin. It was nice to leave your bedroom window open through the night. Daryl hated it, always going on about how someone could climb the trellis outside your window and sneak in while you slept, but when he was gone, you’d indulge yourself in that one simple luxury.

When he told you that he was Alexandria’s newest recruiter, you knew you’d be in for some lonely nights ahead. Still, you also knew Daryl was the best man for the job—you’d seen him bring dozens of people to the prison, providing them shelter while expecting nothing in return, and then going out the next morning to do it all over again. That was when he wasn’t going out on his hunts to find food for everyone, often bringing home the biggest deer you’d ever seen, until he’d do it again next week, and bring home an even bigger one.

Yes, there was no doubt about it—Daryl knew what he was doing out there, but it didn’t stop you from worrying about him. Missing him. So while the quiet was, indeed, nice, you still could not get used to being alone, in this perfect little suburban townhouse, waiting. 

Your waiting became so monotonous, sitting up in your bed and reading another old Agatha Christie novel, that you decided, at length, to migrate downstairs, the living room. When Daryl would come home, you thought, you’d greet him right away. That was how much you were anticipating his arrival. 

One week was nothing, really, but it was the longest you’d been apart since knowing each other, and with the world the way it was, a lot could happen in seven days. A lot of bad, bad things. 

So you flicked on the lamp, snuggled yourself into a knitted blanket, and curled up on the sofa, book in hand as you let out a quiet huff. “Daryl…” you said to yourself, scanning your book to relocate the exact sentence where you left off. “Where are you, you big meatball.”

Your nervous jitters only worsened with the passing hour, your legs shaking involuntarily, your finger tapping on the edge of the book, your toes wiggling nonstop. All you needed was the sound of that bike, that big, stupid bike. That would ease your fretful heart. Well, what would really make you happy was seeing that man of yours, no doubt in need of a shower, but still, your man nonetheless. 

Speak of the Devil, as they say, and he doth appear.

It started out as just a distant hum, perking your ears and making your spine straighten in anticipation. Still frozen, you listened intently. A rumble, now, mechanical and getting louder with each second your heart began to beat faster. At one fateful moment, the roar of the makeshift machine was at its highest volume, and before you could even stand, a bright beam of white light shone through the blinds of the front window. 

All at once, the light and the rumble ceased, punctuated by a low huff, followed by an exasperated grunt. Heavy footsteps plodded along in a familiar pattern—you even recognized the sound of his no doubt mud-caked boots scraping against the edge of the steps leading to the front porch. You could only hope that this time, he’d take the extra precaution of removing his boots before he stepped over the threshold. 

There was a spring in your step, you wrapping the terry cloth fabric of your robe over your chest as you flitted towards the front door. Finally, you stood just a few feet back, your eyes transfixed on the shiny bronze doorknob. Inevitably, a wide grin made your cheeks swell until they almost ached, but the wait was worth it. 

When he came through the door, his head was hanging low, until he felt your presence. Lifting his gaze, he met your great big smile with a smaller one, though the movement of his body betrayed him. The door shut with a strong thud, just before he stepped forward to let his crossbow fall from his shoulder. With a soft grunt under his breath, he buried his nose in the warmth of your shoulder, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. 

For a good while, he stayed like that, only taking in the sensory relief you provided him—your faint scent of rose, your softness, your tender chuckle as your hands rubbed in vertical motions up and down his aching back. Despite the rigidity of his tired muscles, he melted into you, letting himself bask in the comfort you provided him. To hold him like this was nothing short of a ritual between you two, whenever you were apart for long enough to begin missing each other to the point of near grief. 

A man like Daryl—who’d been through so much as he had, who’d seen so much and had still so much room in his heart to give of himself to others—deserved to be held the way you held him. Few people in this world had a heart as big as him, though he did not show it in ways most people would recognize. He showed it in acts of service, in providing for people who could not provide for themselves, in the ones he loved safe. It was what you always adored about him: how he gave of himself, and expected nothing in return. 

“Hey, there, tough guy.” Daryl buried his face deeper into you, now snug in the crook of your neck, where he caught the scent of your perfume, applied much earlier in the day, yet still lingering sweetly. Though you adored how much he clung to you, you longed so much to see his face. Your hands grabbed a hold of either side of his head to lift his gaze to yours. 

As usual, his disheveled hair hung low over his forehead, obscuring one of your favorite features of his—his eyes. Between strips of tattered brown curtains, you could make out the blue-grey hue of his irises. Pushing them back, you smiled again at those deep-set pools of silvery cobalt blue. You always found their mystery to be intriguing. 

“How are you?” you asked, though you knew from the state of him that he must’ve been exhausted. He hadn’t even muttered a word, and yet the more prominent than usual bags under his eyes spoke for him. “You must be tired, hon. Let’s get you in bed.”

But as you turned towards the staircase, a firm grip pulled you back by the wrist, until you were in his arms now, laughing at his sudden burst of energy. Despite your amusement, he did not smile, only looked at you with a heavy, dark gaze, and a lick of his lips.

In your surprise, you hadn’t even noticed that both of his hands were now wrapped around each wrist, so tight that you nearly feared he’d cut off your circulation. 

Something was wrong, had to have been. You’d never seen him so… intense. Of course, Daryl could often be intense, when he was angry especially, but this wasn’t that. Anger was something you could recognize in Daryl. He’d never directed it towards you, but you knew it, and this was something different. 

“Are… are you feeling okay, sweetie?”

Silence, just that gaze holding you hostage, and a heat rising from his body that you could’ve sworn caused a bead of sweat to form on your brow. 

Now he was scaring you. 

“Daryl?” 

Your voice tempted him further. If only you knew just how much he missed you, how much he needed you. A week was too long. A week without you, a week without your touch, a week without your sweet, dulcet voice. And oh, how that voice awoke in him a terrible burning, a conflagration of deadly proportions, a fire that could only be extinguished by the one he loved. 

Entranced by his stare, you hadn’t noticed that he had you pinned against the wall, his strong, heaving chest keeping you there. 

And when he pressed himself against you, you knew. It was obvious, the way he nearly thrusted into you. 

When you realized what he wanted, you felt a wave of relief wash over you: he needed you just as much as you had needed him the past week. From the night he left, you’d not stopped thinking of him, and when you’d turn in your bed to feel for him, and he wasn’t there, the ache for him only worsened. 

There was no way in Hell, though, you were going to initiate sex when he got home. You knew he’d be tired, and a good night’s rest was what he needed before you even thought of asking him to make love to you, but now, with that wild look in his eyes, that hungry snarl in his lip, that flare in his nostrils, that beating of his heart… 

“Oh,” you sighed, your teeth biting back your lower lip as your eyes trailed up and down his body. With your hands finally free, you ran them up his arms, letting them settle on the broad, firm shoulders you loved so much. 

For just a moment, he leaned forward, forehead and tip of his nose meeting yours. With his hardening cock beginning to dig between your thighs, and his vaguely tobacco tinged musk tickling your senses, you could only utter one word. 

A soft, nearly whimpering mewl: “Daddy.”

By the time he got you to the sofa, each of you were already panting, hands moving relentlessly as you both clawed for any part of each other’s body you could get your hands on. Your mouths worked tirelessly, tongues spinning sloppily around the other’s in your haste to finally have each other again. 

When you successfully removed his leather angel-winged vest, you worked on unbuttoning his black shirt, but his hands stopped you. 

“Need your mouth,” he said. 

Leaning back on the sofa with a low grunt, he began unbuckling his belt, while you slotted yourself between his legs, hands massaging his clothed thighs, thick and flexing against your palm. 

When his cock sprang out of its confines, you’d already stripped yourself of your underwear and your robe. In only a transparent silk nightgown, your hips swayed instinctively as you watched his hand begin to stroke himself, up and down the long, thick shaft you’d come to know and love so much. 

“Come ‘ere.” His hands reached out to grab either side of your head, bringing you down to his cock. Panting lips began to drool a bead of saliva down the side of his growing erection. Knowing what he wanted, of course, you took the reddened, swelling tip into your mouth, much to his immediate relief.

“Fuck.” As your mouth slid a little lower, your hand wrapped around the base of his cock. His grip on your hair tightened as his head fell back on the arm of the sofa, a soft breath of your name on his lips. 

Returning to watch you, he lifted your hair into a makeshift ponytail, tilting his head to get a better look at you, your eyes fluttering up to meet his gaze.

“Pretty angel.” Even just the utterance of that affectionate pet name made you feel an overwhelming need to touch yourself. With your free hand, you lifted your nightgown to slot your fingers between warm, velvety folds of aching flesh. “Ya look so good like this… Suckin’ on Daddy’s cock.”

It was somewhat of a tradition now, using that phrase, though only in the context of sex, in your most private, intimate moments. It was silly, you knew it, and he knew it, too, but you both found it excruciatingly sexy all the same. It was sacred in that you’d probably die of embarrassment if anyone else besides Daryl knew of your little… kink.

But neither of you could quite help it, you adoring his strong, protective nature, and him just finding it so alluringly sinful. Guilty pleasure type of thing, with emphasis on pleasure.

And besides, his dirty talk was sex all on its own. 

As your mouth took him in progressively deeper, your fingers moved faster, increasing the friction against your sensitive spot, then slowly dipping down into the embrace of your entrance. 

Not only could he admire your mouth, and your sweet soft moans, but he could watch your fingers enter you, your hand shaking as you penetrated yourself to match the rhythm you knew he liked when he had his cock in you.

“Love when you fuck yourself like that.” He only wished he was the one doing it. “You thinkin’ of me?”

Well, it was hard not to think of him, with his cock in your mouth. 

Taking the opportunity to catch your breath, you answered him. “Yes, Daddy.”

His hands pulled you back down onto his cock, your lips forced open by his tip. “Just don’t make yourself come,” he said. “That’s for me.”

Yes, Daddy. 

Sliding over your tongue, his cock dug deeper, towards the back of your mouth. Going down on him was always a bit of a challenge, given just how big he was, but the weight of him inside you, wherever that may be, was far more rewarding. And when you got to feel that little twitch, his cock moving all on its own as it begged for release… It only made you suck harder, sliding your mouth up and down, taking him in deeper until you were nearly gagging. 

But he liked that, the sound of you struggling just a little to take all of him. Daryl was a sensitive man, yes, but he was still a man—proud of his big cock, even if he was insecure in most other areas. At least he was big, and at least he knew how to use it. 

With his hand on the back of your head, firm, but still gentle enough to let you up if you needed it, he pushed you down just a bit more, hearing your gag become more guttural, more strangled. It did not hurt, though. It only turned you on, your fingers curling inside you to tickle that special spot, and your other hand fondling his balls, tightly drawn to the underside of the base of his cock. 

For several moments, the only sounds coming from either of you were your strained groans, his slipping from between his agape lips, yours muffled by his length filling your entire mouth. Between those sounds of pleasure were the sloppy squelches of your lips soaking him with your saliva. You were always so messy when you went down on him, but how could you not be? His cock provided you no room to lick up your drool, stuffing you until your spit had nowhere else to go but down his veiny, hard length.

Of course, he’d have to tease you about it, how sloppy you were. “Messy girl,” he said, his hand gripping your hair to pull back your bangs. You fluttered your eyes open to meet his, and you were greeted by his crooked smile, with just a sliver of those shiny teeth showing. “Gettin’ Daddy all wet, huh? Nice and wet so I can fuck you good.”

Yes, Daddy.

Eyes rolling back slightly, he bucked his hips up with a jolt, your sucking beginning to tip him over the edge. Just in time, too, for your hand was getting tired of rubbing, and you needed him to finish you off.

“F-fuck, angel. Imma need ya to get that pussy ready for me.”

Whatever he wanted, you’d give him. After all, you were his good girl. Always his good girl. You couldn’t think of a time you’d ever been a bad girl for him. Daddy deserved his good girl.

Yes, you were a good girl, but you could still be… needy.

“Oh, Daddy.” Now straddling his waist, your fingers went straight for the first button on his shirt. “Want you.” He loved when you whined, just a little, and when you were so needy for him that you couldn’t quite make out a completely proper sentence. “Want your shirt off.”

He let you undo just a few buttons, exposing the hairs on his chest that drove you crazy, made you want to feel those wiry hairs between your pursed lips as you trailed your kisses all over his broad chest, made so strong and big by all the manual labor he did, and that heavy crossbow he always used. 

That very same strength pulled at your wrists, then raised you up only to lay you down, sprawled out on the other side of the couch. Now he hovered over you, the tip of his cock hanging down to be tickled by the fabric of your blush pink nightie. He always liked pink on you, matched the color of your cheeks when he talked so dirty to you, made you feel like a whore, but not in a disrespectful way. Never in a disrespectful way.

Besides, you knew you were more than that to him. You knew he loved you. Two years together, through some of the most abject pain and suffering imaginable, would do that. But in moments like this, it felt good to be just his personal whore, whom he happened to love very, very much.

Tenderness blossomed between your lips and his, where he kissed you so deeply, so sweetly. And yet, you still clawed at his shirt, your fingers begging for him to let you see his gorgeous body, after so long away from him.

“Shit,” he laughed into your mouth. Sitting up, he began to undo the rest of the buttons, then peeled off his shirt with his chest puffed up, clearly a bit cocky. When your hands shot up to grasp at his pecs, the faded ink of the tattoo above his left nipple having taunted you, he chuckled again.

“Daddy,” you laughed back, your voice a drawn out, dramaticized whine. “Come on.” 

Now you were testing him, and he held back the rest of his laughter to put on a stern, domineering face. “Hey, now. Be a good girl.”

He felt your thighs squeeze together underneath him, and your hips jolting upwards. He knew what you wanted, and he’d give it to you, but this position wasn’t quite right. 

With a breathy grunt, he grabbed you by your waist, flipping you over, then lifting your bottom until it was sticking out at just the right angle. Lifting your nightie, he licked his lips to watch you move your hips from side to side, as if to taunt him. 

“Cute little ass,” he practically cooed. Leaning over you, his chest pressed firmly to your back, he nuzzled his nose against your pillowy cheek. All the while, you felt his hand slide between your now nearly dripping wet folds. Eyes closed softly, you hummed a soft whimper at the feeling. His hands were always different from yours, so much bigger, stronger, rougher. You’d never felt a touch quite like his, and part of it was because he touched you with such tenderness, even if he tried to manhandle you a little. He was still always gentle, somehow.

In the most honeyed, silky, yet scratchy, voice, he rasped in a whisper, “Did ya miss me, angel?” 

“Yes… Daddy, I missed you so, so much.”

“Mm, I missed you, too. So much.”

Finally, you felt his tip just barely graze your hole. Not only was he torturing you, he was torturing himself, but he loved it. He needed it, otherwise he was sure his peak of pleasure would go away just as fast as it would come. With you, in this moment, he needed to prolong the desire as much as he could. He could feel it coming soon, though, that tensing in his muscles, that tingling in the pit of his stomach, that twitching that made his cock seem to bounce against your folds on its own accord. 

As he slid further into you, you felt his lips find the back of your neck, where he left little kisses the more he sank into you. It felt so good to feel him again, that fullness. It was a feeling only he could give you, his unique way of moving, his cock fitting so perfectly inside you. 

Underneath your nightgown, his hands found your breasts. Tense, strong fingers curled like claws at the soft tissue. Even in his dreams, of which he had many while he was away, he could not recreate that texture—that pillowy soft flesh swelling against his fingers. And the inside of you, the warmth and tightness that hugged his cock and accepted him with each pass, in and out. 

Soon, he leaned back to watch your body envelope his, the shiny, milky coating of your arousal making it easier to slip in and out of you, his hips thrusting in ever increasing speed.

“Daddy…” 

God, he loved being called that. Much more than he should’ve. But, then again, he’d probably find you sexy even if you were calling him “dickhead.” He really didn’t mind, as long as you were calling him something. 

“Mm, angel… Daddy’s here now, sweetheart.” He delivered a harder, stronger thrust, pulling a loud, strangled moan out from deep inside of you. “That feel good?”

“Fuck, yes!” 

As if to praise you, he delivered just a small, weak slap to your bum. That was about as hard as he was willing to spank you, given how much he hated the idea of hurting you, but he knew you liked it, and he liked it, too, the clench of your body from the slap making him jolt forward. 

“Takin’ it good… Real good.”

With one hand still squeezing your breast, the other now drawing tight circles over your clit, he made your lips tremble and your muscles tighten as you began to approach the height of pleasure. You could feel it, just on the brink of release. And he felt it, too, which was why he pulled himself out of you, flipping you over again like a ragdoll. 

You were startled when he pulled you down by your ankles, until you were closer to him. He gave his fingers a good, long lick, then let them sink into you, where his cock had left you stretched wide open and dripping wet. 

Three fingers. Three thick, strong fingers, curling up inside you, making you writhe and groan as your hands shot up to grasp at his shoulders. Through half-lidded eyes, you watched his neck bulge with the strain of trying to keep himself from coming, and it only aroused you more—those muscles flexing and throbbing and burning underneath hot, sweat-dripping skin, tanned by days on end out in the sun. 

What he needed so badly was his own release, after so long of working so hard out there, risking his life for the good of Alexandria. As his forearm and biceps flexed with every push of his fingers inside of you, his chest heaved harder and harder, while you reached between your legs to find his cock. With your hand pulling on his length, and your walls clenching around his fingers as your release reached a tipping point, you both would soon be giving each other much needed relief. 

“Daddy,” you sighed, tugging harder on his cock as frustration overtook you. The closer you got to orgasm, the more you couldn’t wait any longer. “Make me come… I wanna come.”

“Ah, angel… I’m gonna come, too.”

Just moments later, you tensed and gasped and writhed and moaned, rocking your hips upward as his fingers stayed inside you, squeezed by your contracting walls. “Oh, Daddy!”

He leaned forward to lay on top of you, his sturdy weight keeping you in place as you rode out your high, soaking his fingers with your arousal. The heat of your cheek seemed to burn his lips as he kissed you there, then rubbed his button nose in delicate circles to soothe you. “Yeah… Daddy’s got ya, sweetheart.”

With your hand still tugging on him, he gasped a heavy breath, spilling out over you right then and there, his hips thrusting into your hand in desperate, sloppy motions. The orgasm was so strong that he lost his composure for a moment, his head falling into your chest as he groaned your name, over and over and over again. 

And now he freed his hand, using it to rub up and down the sides of your torso, your skin like fine silk under his worn, calloused fingers. In his hair were your hands, massaging his scalp the way you knew he liked, until he lifted his head to offer you a gentle smile. 

“Mm, I’ll never get tired of that.”

You tilted your head with a wide grin. “I didn’t think you’d want to do it tonight. I thought you’d be exhausted.”

He breathed a low huff before rolling over onto his side. You did the same, letting him hold you with his chest pressed firmly to your back. There wasn’t much room on that tiny couch, but you made it work. After all, even if you were in bed upstairs, you’d probably still be this close to each other, clinging for dear life, never wanting to be separated again, though you knew someday you’d have to.

“I am,” he said. “Just… I dunno, needed you, s’all.” Observant as he was, he took notice of your shivering, and reached back to grab the knitted blanket that had been draped over the back of the couch. He covered the both of you, then tucked his chin into your shoulder, where it seemed to fit perfectly. “Missed ya so much, could hardly stand bein’ without you.”

Even now, after you thought you’d be used to his sweet words, he still had a way of sending those butterflies aflutter. “Well, now you’re back home.”

That sounded so good to him—back home.

~

Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated!

Masterlist

Part 2 (coming soon)

#daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfic #twd #twd fanfiction #norman reedus fanfic #norman reedus #norman reedus fanfiction #norman reedus x reader #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead smut #twd smut

[sugar-sweets-fanfic]

Dark Harbor

Young Man × F!Reader

Word count - 1,636

WARNING(S) - 18+ DNI MINORS; F!Dominance, pegging, oral, dirty talk

Author note - Since this character has no name he is referred to as 'Baby'.

Plot/Background - You have been friends for a long time. You living on the streets just like him. But eventually you get back on your feet. You work at a pub and live in a shitty flat. Getting by, by paycheck to paycheck. You let your friend crash at your place. Until he decides to travel somewhere else. Things become pretty intimate as he feels the need to pay you back.

Another late night shift at the pub. Working your tail off to get some decent tips. Dealing with drunk douchebags was your specialty. The best part was locking up and cleaning your workstation. Leaving with your associate, waving them goodbye. Living so close was a plus, didn't have to drive. Paying for a car wasn't a possibility at this time.

You force the old busted door open to your flat. Soon shutting and locking it up. You stay leaned against it, taking a moment to relax your body. A yawn creeps out of you. While you rub your baggy eyes.

"Welcome home.."

Your body froze, soon letting your hands fall to your sides. Eyes fixating at your old friend. Causing you to smile uncontrollably. Biting your bottom lip to try to hide it. "Hey, baby." You tease, pushing off the door. Kicking off your converse and hanging up your coat.

"I made dinner..since you said you'd be home late. Hope ya like pasta." He pulled out a seat for you. Eyeing you through his dark bangs.

"I will eat anything." You chuckled, taking the seat he presented you. Grabbing your fork to twist the noodles around.

However, your motion came to a halt. As his hand engulfs yours. "I could feed ya." He soon lifted the few noodles up. Blowing on them to cool them off. The whole time he didn't break eye contact with you. You simply just watched with a faint smile gracing your lips. "That's nice of you..but I can feed myse—"

His index pressed against your lips to hush you. His finger slid down your bottom lip. He brought the fork close to your mouth. "Open wide…" His head slightly tilted to the side. Of course you do as he says. Opening your mouth for him. Soon feeling the warm noodles fill your pallet. The fork sliding out from between your lips. You begin to chew as he continues to watch. "Pretty good..guess I should keep you for a while." You chuckle.

"I do have to repay you. I hate to mooch off of ya. Whatever I can do to make things easier."

"Oh shut up.. you're fine. I don't want you to repay me. You're my friend. I'm sure you'd do the same for me."

"Still. I want to do things for you." He sits down next to you.

"...fine, you can start with eating for yourself. No more toying with me, baby." You slightly smirk. Trying to decline his offer in a light hearted way. In which, he nodded in response. Although it seemed like a forced agreement. The rest of the night was relaxed. Finishing up dinner and both getting to bed.

●●●

Still deep in sleep you feel an interesting sensation. Like a soft warm sponge against you. Causing your body to shudder a little. You moan softly as your legs naturally stretch out. This amazing sensation continues and wakes you up. You raise the torso half of your body up. Resting against your elbows on the mattress. You gasp deeply feeling a deep sucking against your clit. So you peek under the blanket. Your eyes widen at the sight of him. His face buried between your legs. Instantly, you push the blanket off.

Even with you two making eye contact. He continues to eat you out. His lips massage your clit as his saliva trickles down your folds. Knowing he had your full attention now. He breaks from your sensitive bud. His tongue slithers down to your entrance. Forcing its way inside of you.

"H-Hey! What are you doing!?" You are finally able to create a sentence. Even pushing him away.

He slightly sits up, still looking into your eyes. "I'm being a good roommate." He lips his lips.

"..you…I don't underst—"

He cuts you off with a kiss. Clashing his lips against yours. As if he was hungry for your attention. You couldn't resist it. He knew exactly what made you weak. So you just went along with it now. Kissing him back with more force. Sliding a hand up to his hair. So you could tug it, doing so with force. Earning a light whimper from him. "Shhh…you wanna earn your keep right?" You ask with a slight smirk plastered on your face.

He stares at you with those intense eyes. Before finally nodding to inquiry. "Then get your clothes off.. I'll be right back." You gift him a gentle peck on the lips. Before getting up and heading to the bathroom. You were more ecstatic than you expected. Maybe it was just from his earlier actions. But you were a needy mess now. You kept your baggy tee on. Digging under your sink to find your pride and joy. Haven't used it in a long time. Taking your time getting the straps nice and tight against you.

Coming out of the bathroom to see him. Your eyes glued to his appearance. He laid, leaned against the headboard. Giving you the signature gaze through his bangs. Smoke slipped through his lips. A blanket covered his bottom half. Leaving room for some imagination. The look in his eyes made you aware of his excitement. Even if he wasn't very forward about it. You walk over to the edge of the bed. Lifting your knee to crawl onto it. Your rubber cock swaying side to side. As you crawl closer to him. Soon moving on your hands and knees.

Inching closer to spare a few kisses. He raises his arms, cupping your face. "Mm…I need you to wet me up." You demand in a soft manner. Kissing down his chin and across his jawline. "Okay." He sighs.

Standing up, doing your best to keep your balance. You place a hand against the headboard. Gripping it tight as the other grabs the base of your rubber shaft. Pressing the tip against his lower lip. Giggling lightly as you tease him. You always enjoyed playing with your baby. However, he usually took it like a champ. Like at this moment, he simply starts to kiss your tip. Giving it kitten licks before taking it into his mouth.

"Good boy.." you sigh softly. Even if you couldn't feel it. It was still exhilarating to watch.

Your hips start to move. Thrusting carefully into his mouth. Your hand lets go of the shaft. Finding its way to his hair. Grabbing a bundle of his dark locks. The more drool coats your rubber. The faster you move, the deeper you push. Yanking his hair lightly as your grip tightens. His hands move up your outer thighs. He was holding them so tight you knew you'd have bruises later on. Biting your bottom lip as you watch him struggle. Struggling to handle your size.

His brows knit as he gags and lets out muffled whines. Once you were satisfied you pull your hips back. Hearing his initial gasp for air. Some of his saliva ends up on his chin and dribbles down his chest. "Nnn…fuck. Please, put it in me." He begged softly. The comment melted you. "Then take the blanket off."

He follows your command as you get down to his level. Seeing his hard on throbbing. It was so erect, you could tell it was probably painful at this point. "Turn over.. give me that bubble butt." You laugh. Exchanging one last kiss. Before he scoffs playfully and turns over for you. Once he was on all fours. You shake your head in disapproval. "No, no, no…not like that." You move closer and push him down. Forcing him to lay on his stomach. "Bury that dirty cock in the sheets.." you whisper to him.

He physically shifts and squirms a bit. His dick so sensitive from the slightest friction. You let him get more comfortable. Seeing him grab a pillow to hold onto. Now you position yourself. You were so slick between your legs. Even if you weren't being touched. Doing such things to him was more than enough. By the end of this you knew you'd be more than satisfied. Guiding your silicone prick up against him. You feel his eyes on you. Soon eyeing him back. "Impatient, huh?" You ask as you begin to push inside of him.

"Ahh..! Be gentle.."

"I'll try, baby.. just keep still."

You placed your hands on his lower back. Rolling your hips sensually. His moans were making it hard to keep steady. All you wanted was to rail him. But, you would try to refrain til he adjusts to your girth. Slowly, you pushed deep inside. Every push you felt him tense. You urged him to relax and trust you. All he could respond with was soft cries. "Shhh…it's okay baby. You'll cum soon enough." You move down closer. Wrapping your arms between his torso and the mattress. Hugging against him, giving light kisses against his back.

You begin to move faster, pushing harder in. "Fuck!" He gasped. Which only made you go harder. Pounding against him so aggressively. The room filled with sounds of pleasure and clashing of flesh. He buried his face in the pillow to silence his moans. You could feel him push against you. Signaling he wanted more. You prop yourself up again. Holding onto his shoulders as you thrust as fast as you could. Hell, the friction you felt against the strap on was getting you off.

"Oh baby! Ahhh…p-please cum fo-for me!" You begged in heavy pants.

"Ahh! I-ahhmmm..mm..I ahh-amm! Fuck! I'm cumming..!" He groaned sharply.

His audible response filled you with lust. Ending it by jamming your cock all the way inside of him. Giving you one last blissful whine from him. Until the room now filled with harsh pants and sighs. "..your rent this month is paid." You shakily snicker.

#dark harbor #dark harbor fanfic #young man #norman reedus #norman reedus fanfic #dark harbor x reader #young man x reader

[scuddisher]

꒷꒦꒷ NORMAN REEDUS MASTERLIST ꒷꒦꒷

DISCLAIMER: all content here is 18+, minors do not interact! do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my permission. do not post my content on other sites, especially claiming them as your own! reblogs and feedback are seriously appreciated <3

[ UPDATED: DEC 14TH | RECENT | RECS | NAVI ]

DIEGO ☓ SKY (2015) 

none yet! see my wips!

JEREMY ☓ MIMIC (1997)

FOR WHAT IT WAS WORTH.

18+ | 2022 | 6.1k - What was once a youthful dream of playing in a band and gaining a loving relationship with the bass player quickly becomes a cold memory as Jeremy leaves you behind for his work as a medical examiner. But as a sudden redemption of his passion for being a musician brings him back into your life, you find yourself holding on to the love and lust you once had—and begging for the future you once dreamed of together.

NORMAN RILEY ☓ AMERICAN GANGSTER (2007)

none yet! see my wips!

© scuddisher — all rights reserved.

#norman reedus smut #norman reedus fanfic #norman reedus fanfiction #norman reedus imagines #norman reedus scenarios #norman reedus x reader

[n0-way-0ut]

- MINE ⋆☆ 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧

PAIRING— pre-apocalypse!daryl dixon x fem!reader

SUMMARY— your long time - childhood - friend daryl dixon drops you off at the local bar for your first summer shift, and an encounter from your childhood is recounted.

MORE CHAPTERS— chapter one | chapter two | chapter three

“so?” you spun around to reveal the new summer uniform for your job. you had been working at the bar in town for a few weeks now, but they had just brought in new uniforms for the summer and to say they were a little revealing was an understatement: “whadya think?” you asked, trying to pull down the short black mini skirt just a little further.

daryl scanned your body, looking at you from head to toe in complete awe from the transformation you have had over the past few days. only the day prior, you had gotten the majority of your hair cut off to sit just above your shoulders. as his eyes moved down he noticed the black uniform that was only a thin black v-cut singlet with a black mini skirt leaving the majority of your long legs bare. the mini skirt only managed to cover half of the tattoo you had gotten a few months ago with daryl and merle, making him smile.

“hello?” you sang, a smirk growing on your lips as you watched daryl sit on the edge of your bed, completely stuck for words. “earth to daryl.” you giggled, finally snapping him out of his trance.

“ye-yeah, looks good.” he almost choked, finally diverting his eyes from your body. “not coverin’ much.” he scoffed, personally knowing the types of creeps that hung out that the bar.

“yeah, i know.” you frowned, turning around to adjust the tight-fitting clothes in your mirror. “it’ll get me some good tips though.” you grinned.

“i’ll make sure to send merle ‘round.” daryl chuckled as he watched you spin back around to grab everything you needed for your shift. “some of his mates’ill love the new uniform.

“that’s what i’m hopin’ for.” you scoffed, grabbing an old jacket of your dads before threading your arms through. “hey, d’ya mind givin’ me ride?” you asked, searching for your bag.

he nodded, standing up as he headed for your bedroom door. you quickly found your bag before following daryl out into the hallway of your small home. you yelled out a goodbye to your bedridden mother before running out to the front yard where daryl had parked the old motorbike that belonged to merle.

“you sure you can get on ‘ere in that?” he asked, his eyes motioning towards the black mini skirt that continued to ride up with almost every step you took.

“you underestimate me dixon.” you smirked, securing your bag across your chest before straddling the motor bike, your arm’s instinctively wrapping around daryl’s torso. “when are ya gonna let me drive thing hunk a junk anyways?” you asked as you watched daryl start the engine.

daryl scoffed, a laugh escaping his lips. “m’lucky i can even drive it.”

you let out a breathy laugh as daryl began to drive out of the long dirt driveway that connected with his before connecting with the highway. the small town where the bar was located was only a short five minute drive down the highway. it wasn’t a very big down, most of the population coming through where tourists on the way to atlanta or the locals that lived near the area.

as daryl pulled into town, the roaring engine blearing through the small town as he made his way to the bar. it was only about noon but you knew the regulars would already be waiting at the bar for your service. as he pulled into the parking lot that neighboured the bar, daryl turned off the engine allowing you to dismount the bike, your legs left feeling warm after being pressed up against the engine.

“thanks for droppin’ me in.” you thanked, pulling your skirt down as you stepped away from the bike.

“s’nothin’.” he mumbled. “you need me to pick ya up?” daryl asked.

“i’m on until close.” you noted, a downturn smile fading on your lips. “i can jus’ walk home.”

“you’d get lost.” he scoffed.

“correct me if i’m wrong but last time i was walkin’ about you were the one to get me lost.” you smirked, the memory of the day before your thirteenth birthday coming to mind.

“nah, that doesn’t count.” daryl shook his head, trying to hide the smile ghosting over his lips.

“bullshit!” you teased.

daryl had only known you for about a week, but here he was lost in the woods the surrounded his family property with you. the pair of you had been wandering around for hours trying to find your way back home. only hours before you had run into the woods to escape your fighting parents, accidentally bumping into daryl who was collecting some sticks and twigs for a fire he planned on building with his brother later that evening. but by the time daryl had chased after you, making sure you were okay you had both gotten completely lost.

“will you admit we’re lost!” you demanded, slowly trekking behind him as he desperately tried to search for any familiarity.

“we ain’t lost!” he scoffed, not bothering to turn back to look at you.

letting out an aggravated sigh, you continued to follow him, your feet beginning to ache after what felt like hours of walking. behind you, the sun began to set as a cool breeze rustled the trees towering above you both.

“it’s gettin’ dark.” you mumbled, the fear of being lost and having to spend the night in the woods beginning to set in. “shouldn’t we be findin’ shelter or somethin’?” you asked, knowing daryl knew more about this sort of stuff then you.

daryl stopped walking, turning around to look at the sun as it began to dip beyond the horizon. “guess so.” he mumbled. continuing to look around for somewhere to spend the night. “m’gonna look for some stuff to make some shelter.”

“okay.” you spoke quietly, watching daryl as he looked around for areas that would be a suitable place to sleep.

just before it got dark, you had spotted a small ditch big enough to fit the both of you. with the last few minutes of sunlight daryl had managed to cover the majority of the ditch with foliage creating a little hollow for the pair of you to sleep in. without needing to exchange any words, you both climbed into the small space, your knees both tucked up to your chest as you sat opposite each other.

“you shouldn’t have follow me out ‘ere.” you noted, feeling terrible that you had not only gotten yourself lost but you had also gotten daryl lost.

“well you shouldn’t have run off into the woods.” he retorted, his voice still soft whenever he spoke with you, no matter how angry he got.

a soft white glow came from the moon, offering little light as you sat together in the confined space. all around you, you could hear the noises and growls of the nocturnal creatures that inhabited the woods, only making you more nervous.

“aren’t there mountain lions out ‘ere?” you asked in a soft whisper, bringing your arms up to sit on top of your knees resting your chin on your forearms.

“i dunno.” daryl shrugged.

daryl didn’t consider himself a genius or even an overly smart kid but he could tell you were scared and weather he liked to admit it or not, he was a little scared as well. he was lost in the very woods his big brother and father had warned him about time and time again.

“but… we’re safe under here.” he reassured tried to. “merle used to come out ‘ere all the time with his buddies, n’they’re all a bunch of idiots.

you didn’t know it yet but merle had been shipped off to juvie only a few days prior. you had only heard about him through daryl, having only briefly seeing him on the porch of his family’s property. you had noticed how daryl would always find a way to weasel a story about his bigger brother into almost any conversation. he did look up to merle.

you woke up the following morning to the sounds of bird chirping in the trees above you. your eyes fluttered open to find daryl curled up, his face mere inches away from yours due to the tight space. today was your thirteenth birthday. if you were being completely honest, you thought your parents had forgotten about your birthday. they were so busy with the move they hadn’t mentioned it all week.

crawling out of the small hut, you looked around the surrounding woods. your eyes scanning for anything that might be remotely familiar to you but you had little lucky, until your eyes landed on a stream of dark grey smoke coming from beyond the horizon. you quickly bent back down, your hand reaching out to grab daryl’s leg, shaking and tugging at his jeans.

“wake up!” you hissed as he began to stir. “daryl, wake up!” you spoke a little louder causing him to finally wake up, his head rising from the dirt to give you a bitter look of annoyance for waking him up so early.

“i think we’re close.” you grinned, taking a step back as daryl hurriedly crawled out of the small confined space before standing up, his limbs stretching out into the open space. “see!” you pointed, your finger pointing in the direction of the growing cloud of smoke.

“holy shit.” he breathed, caught in a moment of disbelief, slowly beginning to walk towards the smoke. “come on!” he encouraged, his walk beginning to turn into a sprint.

without needing to think, you immediately followed daryl, running through the unlevelled terrain as you followed the cloud of smoke. climbing over one last hill you both finally realised what was causing the smoke.

“we’re home.” you breathed, turning to look at daryl as he watched smoke come from the chimney located at the back of his small family cabin.

“see?” daryl mumbled, his head flicking in the direction of his home. “told yer we’d get back.” a smile beginning to tug at the edges of his lips.

“i bet my parents didn’t even know i was gone.” you huffed, remaining still as you both stood at the top of the small hill. daryl looked over to you sympathetically. he knew that behind the doors of his cabin was no doubt his father, waiting for some reason to give him a beating. “what about you?” you asked, finally looking across to daryl before he quickly diverted his gaze.

“merle n’ i went missin’ once for a week n’they didn’t notice.” he noted, lightly shrugging his shoulders. “or they didn’t care.” daryl added.

“wow.” you breathed. “guess that beats my parents forgetting about my birthday.” you joked, finally deciding to slowly walk down towards the property.

“i guess.” daryl laughed weakly, beginning to follow you down the small hill. “when’s yer birthday?” he asked, briefly looking over to you before focusing on the ground beneath his feet.

“today.” you weakly smiled. as you reached the bottom of the hill, your house came into view causing the both of you to stop. “thanks by the way.” you spoke quietly.

“for what? i didn’t do much.” he grumbled, bringing his hand up to his mouth.

“i dunno.” you shrugged. “i would have definitely freaked out if i was alone.” you spoke a little softer, your tone more serious as you began to play with the tips of your fingers.

“you would’a been fine.” he shook his head. “i was the one that got us lost remember.” he nervously chuckled, desperately trying to deflect your thanks.

you watched daryl closely as he avoided your eye contact, not even daring to look in your direction as if he had done something wrong.

“hey, do you wanna come in for some food?” you offered, daryl finally looking up from the ground. “my parents always have heaps of shit to eat.” you chuckled, daryl remaining silent as he thought about the offer.

“sure.” he shrugged, causing you to smile.

you spun around on the balls of your feet, beginning to walk in the direction of your house with daryl closely following behind you. the back door had been left unlocked as you parents had gone off to work. as daryl walked into the cabin, no bigger then hid he was shocked to see how differently styled everything was. daryl’s house had always been quite dark and cluttered and there was always the lingering smell of cigarettes and liquor but you place was so different. it almost didn’t looked lived in.

“want a sandwich?” you asked, wandering down to the kitchen as you headed straight for the pantry.

daryl hummed in response as you began to pull out spreads. he stood beside the small round table that was in the centre of the kitchen as he watched you pull together the ingredients to make a sandwich. as you pulled out four silences of bread and placed them onto the kitchen table you looked up to find daryl standing by your kitchen table, almost as if he were waiting for an invitation to sit down.

“you can sit down.” you mentioned, sitting down across the table. daryl pulled out a chair and sat across from you, his eyes still wandering around the room looking at the small photos stuck to the fridge with magnets that were from atlanta city. “i hope you like pb n’ j.” you smiled as you began to open the tub of peanut butter.

“yeah.” he hummed, watching you closely as you began to spread the thick paste over the slices of thin white bread. “where are your folks?” he asked quietly.

“probably at work.” you mumbled nonchalantly. “they work crazy hours so i’m here by myself a lot of the time.” you mentioned, closing the lid on the peanut butter before unscrewing the lid for the jelly.

“since ma died it’s mostly just been me at home too.” daryl mentioned, not particularly because he wanted sympathy but because he wanted you to know you weren’t alone.

what about merle? isn’t he home?” you asked, spreading the purple jelly across the bread.

“nah.” daryl mumbled, briefly shaking his head. “he’s in juvie.” he answered plainly.

“isn’t juvie a kids jail?” you asked, pinching your eyebrows together as you finished off the sandwiches.

“pretty much.” he replied quietly, worried you might suddenly become freaked out by the whole ordeal.

“what’d he do?” you asked, passing one of the sandwiches over to daryl before screwing the lid back on the jelly.

daryl took a bite of the sandwich, almost melting at the taste of real food, not some piece of meat his dad had brought home after a long day at work.

“beat up some kid i think.” daryl shrugged, his mouth full of food as a smirk crept onto your lips.

you let out another laugh as daryl scoffed at your response. “but hey, i’ll head to yours for merles party after i’m finished up ‘ere.” you grinned.

“i think those dickheads are comin’ ‘ere then we’re headin’ back to ours.” he mentioned, his hands resting on the handle bars of the bike.

“so i guess i’ll see you in a few hours then.” you smirked. “you are included in that group of dickheads right?” you teased, flirtatiously winking at daryl before spinning around to head towards the main door.

“yeah, yeah,” he scoffed. “see ya later.” daryl mumbled so quietly you couldn’t hear.

as you pushed open the bar door - the little bell strapped to the top of the door ringing - you heard the revving of the engine causing a smile to creep onto your lips as you walked inside. you soon greeted by the regulars sitting in their usual seats as you made your way behind the bar, dumping your bag in your locker before unzipping your fathers jacket.

“how are ya sweetheart?” one of the regulars asked as they waited to be served, watching you as you pulled back your jacket to show off the revealing uniform.

“not too bad.” you smiled, walking back to the bar to begin serving each of them their drinks. “who let y’all in here so early?” you teased.

“harry.” he grumbled. “said he had some shit to sort out.” he noted, taking the ice cold beer from your hand.

“alright.” you smiled, moving on to the next person to take their order. “who’s next?” you called out.

#daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon x original female character #the walking dead #norman reedus #pre apocalypse #twd fanfiction #twd #twd prison era #norman reedus fanfic #fanfic #ao3 #ao3fic #fan fic #fan ficton #pre apocalypse daryl #merle dixon

[sourwolf-sterek32]

Broken Trust

Summary: Y/N Walsh meets Daryl Dixon while working as an undercover Police Officer. But, when Daryl finds out the truth about you, you’re forced to move back to King County.

While on duty, a bullet puts you and Rick Grimes in hospital and when you wake up, the whole world has changed.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Language, brief suicidal thoughts 

Previous chapter

Chapter 25-

The next eight or so months was spent crashing from building to building, never staying in one spot for too long. 

You used to have an old ford pickup truck, until the engine died. After that you stuck to traveling on foot with nothing but your weapons and a duffle bag full of supplies to your name.

It was strange being on your own. It was quiet. It was lonely and it was scary at night while you slept and hoped nobody dead or alive killed you in your sleep.

You missed your brother, you missed Carl, you even missed Lori. But you missed Daryl most of all. You missed the shit out of him and you found yourself often dreaming of him. Dreaming of the life you could've had together in the old world.

It was just another day.

You were following some road you had been walking on for the past week, killing any walkers you came across and scavenging any buildings you happened to pass. You thought you had seen it all during those past eight months on the road by yourself, from herds of walkers to gangs of wanna be bikers, but you had never seen anything like this. A community.

There was a community. You never imagined something like that could exist in this world.How'd they even get those walls up before the walkers came through? How many people were inside? Were they good people? Did they have any weapons? You had so many questions, but you figured knocking on the front gate and asking was a good way to get killed.

Instead, you stuck to the woods and scoped the place out. They had guards on every side of the community, all of which were carrying what looked to be assault rifles and they did not look friendly. As much as it would be nice to be safe inside those walls, you were not going to risk your life for it. You didn't know those people and frankly you were better off alone.

You sat crouched down in the woods for a few more minutes as you stared at the community before you figured you should probably keep moving and find a camp before it got dark, but before you even had the chance to stand up something hard collided with the back of your head and everything turned black.

-

You woke up slowly. Your eyes fluttering open and it took your foggy brain a few moments before you realised that you were lying in an unknown room.

Quickly, you sat up in sudden panic, reaching for your handgun, but it wasn't there. Your entire duty belt was gone, all your weapons, gone.

You glanced around the room, frowning when you realised you were in some kind of medical room. Medical equipment and medicine stacked the cupboards along the wall, not to mention you were sitting on a old hospital gurney.

"Oh, good you're awake. How are you feeling?" An unfamiliar voice questioned causing you to quickly jump off the bed.

You grabbed a pair of scissors from the bench and held it up in front of you as you stared at the woman in the doorway who was wearing nurse scrubs causing you to frown.

"Whoa. It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you." The nurse quickly said, raising her hands in surrender.

"Where the hell am i?" You questioned, your eyes never leaving the woman as you fingers tightened around the scissors. "Where are my weapons?"

"You're at Woodbury. You're safe, but we took your weapons. Couldn't have an armed stranger inside our community."

That community you were scouting out... you were inside it. Whoever hit you, must have taken you inside, but why?

Your left hand was cuffed to the side of the bed, so you couldn't really get far. They were definitely your own handcuffs and that annoyed you.

"Well shit, look who it is." A familiar voice called out.

Your head to snapped towards the door just as Merle fucking Dixon walked into the room and you froze.

He now had some kind of metal prosthetic on his left arm which had a knife strapped to the end and you had to give him credit for that. Of course, Merle Dixon would figure out how to make a weapon out of a cut off hand.

"Heard the news about some chick in a cop uniform showing up outta nowhere. Had to be sure ya were real."

He lent against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, staring at you and you stared back, not really sure what to say. Hell, he probably hated you for leaving him for dead back in Atlanta and you weren't sure why he hadn't killed you already.

"Where the hell am I?" You questioned, getting straight to the point.

Although, you knew exactly where you were. You were inside the community you were scoping out. Someone must have saw you and took you inside, but why not just kill you?

"Woodbury. It's a community and you're lucky to be alive, usually they just kill strangers who are found sneaking around the place." Merle answered as he walked into the room and grabbed a chair from the wall before he placed it near your bed and sat down.

"You going to kill me?" You asked, glancing down at his metal hand causing Merle to chuckle as he shook his head.

"Ya know, when they found me, I was near bled out. Starving. Thinking to myself a bullet might make a good last meal. Take myself a nice long nap after and wait for Daryl on the other side." 

You just nodded because those exact thoughts had run through your mind too many times to count during the past few months. Just one shot and it would all be over and you could be with your brother again.

"Ya seen my brother?" Merle asked, snapping you out of your thoughts as you shook your head.

"Not for a few months. He went back for you in Atlanta. A group of us did, but you were already gone."

"That prick who cuffed me to the roof top. He was a friend of yours ain't he?" Merle asked and you just shook your head as you thought back to that day.

"Not anymore." You muttered, looking away from Merle as you looked around the room. "Look, Daryl wanted to keep looking for you in Atlanta, but shit went down. People died. A lot of our group died. Jim, Ed, Amy, Jacqui... Shane."

"Officer Walsh? That other pig? Wish I coulda seen that." Merle chuckled, but that was all it took before you snapped as you yanked on the handcuffs on your left hand and glared at Merle.

"Shut the fuck up." You warned, growling as you struggled with the cuffs, but there was no way you could get them off. "He was my brother, asshole."

Merle's expression quickly sobered up as he took in what you just said and he lowered his head.

"I didn't know that, I'm sorry." He apologised and to your surprise he sounded genuinely sorry. "Is my brother dead too?" 

"Dunno. Shit went down with a herd, we all barely made it out alive and I left the group. Haven't seen any of them for months."

Merle didn't say anything after that before he stood up and began to walk over you and unlocked the handcuffs causing you to frown.

"You're weapons are in that cupboard over there. There's drinking water from that tap. When you're finished come outside, the Governor wants to meet you." Merle explained before he walked out the room, closing the door behind him as you sat there rubbing your sore wrist.

Who the hell is the Governor?

To your surprise, Merle was right. All your weapons were in the cupboard and you clipped your belt back on over your pants and checked to make sure everything was there. Your gun, baton, torch, OC spray and now your handcuffs back in the pouch at the back of your belt.

Once all your weapons were secure, you walked over to the sink and turned on the tap as water started to flow from it and you couldn't stop the smile spreading across your face as you stuck your head under and began to drink the fresh rain water.

A few minutes later, you had made your way outside and walked out the door, but stopped and looked around the area, taking in just how big the community was.

Houses lined the street as people walked around the area, talking, playing, laughing, like the world hadn't died and that there weren't walkers wandering around outside the walls. There were kids running around and flowers and grass growing along the footpaths. It was like nothing had happened inside this community, like the world outside didn't exist.

"It's beautiful isn't it?"

You turned around to find a man walking towards you with Merle beside him as he gestured towards the community around him.

"I'm guessing you're the Governor? You run this place?" You asked, looking over at the stranger who nodded. "How? How does something like this last? How'd you even get the walls up in time?" 

"A lot is possible when people work together. Once we got the walls up everything came together. We have food, shelter, supplies, weapons, we're a well sustained community." The Governor explained as you looked away from him and continued to glance around the community.

This was too good to be true. Something like this couldn't just exist, nothing this good ever lasted. There had to be a catch.

"My house is at the far end of the street, I share it with a few of my men and there's a spare room. You're welcome to stay there for as long as you like." The Governor offered a few moments later.

"I'm a stranger, why would you let me stay?"

You glanced over at Merle who had been way to quiet for the Merle Dixon you used to know, but he just shrugged his shoulders as he glanced around the community.

"You're a cop, could be useful having someone like you around." The Governor simply answered causing you to chuckle.

"I could have just stolen this uniform and gear." You responded causing Merle to snort as he glanced over at you.

"Ya could have, but ya have the word cop written all over ya. C'mon I'll show ya around the place." Merle said and the Governor nodded, saying something about seeing you later before Merle began to lead you down the street.

"Somethin' ya should know." Merle began to say as you reached the front gate and looked out through the gap between the two metal gates.

You could see a few walkers stumbling along the street outside, but they had no idea you were in there. None of the walkers did, this entire community was a safe zone.

"What is it?" You asked, glancing over your shoulder towards him just as you spotted a familiar face jogging down the street towards you and your jaw dropped when you realised who it was.

"Y/N?! Dixon, told me you were here, but I didn't believe it until now. How did you get here? Are the others here?" Andrea questioned breathlessly as she reached you, but before you had a chance to answer, she wrapped her arms around you, taking you by surprise not expecting the other woman to hug you.

"It's just me here, how'd you get here?" You asked once she pulled away from you.

"Phillip and Merle saved me. Saved us." Andrea answered, looking over her shoulder towards some other woman who was sitting on a bench on the footpath across the road.

You studied the woman for a moment, taking in her dark skin and long dreadlocks. You had definitely never seen her before, but clearly Andrea knew her.

"I'll leave you girls to catch up, Governor and I got stuff to do." Merle spoke up and you nodded, watching as he walked off before you looked back at Andrea.

"Who's Phillip?" You asked in confusion.

"The Governor." She answered and you couldn't stop the smile forming on your face. She was on first name basis with the Governor, they must be close. "I've only been here for a few days. It's good here. Michonne on the other hand doesn't think so."

"Why's that?" You asked, glancing back over at the Michonne woman. If someone else was getting bad vibes about this place, then maybe there was a reason for it.

"I don't know. She has trust issues, I've been with her all winter, she saved my life when the farm fell. How'd you get out anyway? Did you get separated from the group too?" 

"Something like that." You answered as your eyes scanned the area, trying to map out everything inside the community.

"Come on, I'll show you around." Andrea said and with that the two of you began to walk around the community. 

She showed you around the whole community, pointing out various buildings and people. She told you how they had armed guards on every wall, although you already knew that from when you were scouting the place earlier. She told you more about Michonne, how the two of them survived all winter together and how they ended up inside this community. 

Andrea seemed to really like this community, seemed to be really attached to this Governor, but there was still something about this place that didn't sit right with you. There was something about the Governor that didn't sit right with you.

"Hey, we've been looking for you. This is Y/N, the one I've been telling you about. Y/N, this is Michonne." Andrea introduced as you walked into some house to find the other woman sitting at the table in the middle of the room as she zipped up a duffle bag on the table.

Michonne just nodded at you and you nodded back before she turned her attention towards Andrea. "You ready to go?" She asked causing you to frown.

Go? Where are they going?

"I think we should stay for a few more days-" Andrea began to say before Michonne cut her off.

"We had a deal."

"I think we should stay here a bit longer get our strength up. The Governor is throwing a party tomorrow. We can always leave after it or the following day." Andrea quickly suggested, but that clearly didn't sit right with Michonne.

"The following day?" Michonne repeated, raising her eyebrows at Andrea.

"We don't want to walk into trouble that we can't get out of it. It's just for a day or two."

"I heard you the first time." She muttered before she walked out the room.

"Sorry. She's usually not like that. Umm, you can take the couch over there, there's blankets and pillows in the cupboard, make yourself comfortable. I'm gonna go talk to Michonne." Andrea said, following after the other woman, leaving you standing in the middle of the room wondering what to do.

-

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