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#soft daryl dixon
acozysoulwrites · 1 year
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The soldier and the poet | D.D
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Description: Daryl listens to the reader as she tells him a story about a soldier, poet, and king.
Warnings: none
Once upon a time, there was a soldier. Upon his back, he carry a bow that had arrows enchanted with the most potent magic. The soldier was accompanied by a poet and a king. Together they could conquer the world. The poet was a witty creature, slaying their enemies with their tongue. No one could outsmart them. And the king... The king was a brave soul. His wisdom is what kept their people alive for so many years... Daryl adjusts himself. His head lays in her lap as she tells him the story. He can't remember the last time someone told him a story. Actually, he doesn't remember if anyone had ever told him a story before.
"Well?" He pushes, eager eyes squinting up at her. "What happens to em?" He feels a bit embarrassed for being so intrigued.
She chuckles, and a warm, familiar smile draws onto her face, a smile that feels like home to Daryl. "You know, in a way, this story really fits ours," She says, looking down at him. Her hand lifts up, and she begins running her fingers through his brown hair.
"Oh yeah? How so" Daryl asks, feeling his heart slow to a calm rhythm as she traces her fingers around his face and down to his chest.
"Well, I'd be the poet. I like to think I'm witty; before all this, I was a writer," She says simply.
Daryl watches her face twist into a pondering expression.
"Ah! Rick is the king. He's always stepped up. We could call him the ruler at this point, right?" She stops and looks down, realizing she has created a mess of his hair.
"What about the soldier?" He asks softly, and she cannot help but smile. It was sweet how interested he had gotten.
"Well, that's easy. It's you of course! You have never failed to keep us all safe" She pauses to fix his tangled hair. "Even if it nearly cost you your life," She scolds, frowning down at him.
It was true. Daryl was willing to lay his life down for everyone he cared about. It was his love language. It explained why he felt so strongly about jumping in front of a bullet for this girl. He'd do it without thought. He loved her.
After a moment of thought, Daryl sits up with a huff. His hair sticking in all different directions. Grass and a few small twigs stuck to his arm and back.
"You look hilarious," She laughs, reaching over to brush his back off.
"That's yer fault," He mumbles, fixing his hair how he likes it, covering his face.
He watches as she reaches toward the dandelion next to them. With a gentle pull, she plucks the thing from the earth and reaches toward him. He stays put, eyes following her hand as it grows nearer. She tucks the flower underneath a few strands of hair and pulls back as if admiring him.
"My beautiful protector," She says with a cheesy grin.
This makes Daryl crack a shy smile. He isn't sure if its due to how much he's blushing right now or if it's that he's embarrassed. He never thought he would ever let someone get this personal with him or that he would let someone put flowers in his hair and call him soft things like 'beautiful.'
Suddenly, Daryl frowns. “You never told me what happened to them…” he says, his voice carrying a more serious tone.
She eyes him for a moment, and then a soft smile tugs at the corners of her lips. Her hand slips around his. “They make it” she says, eyes locked onto his.
He shyly ducks his head, remaining eye contact. “yeah?”
She nods. “yeah… and they’re happy”
--
THIS HAS TO BE ONE OF THE CUTEST THINGS I HAVE EVER WRITTEN!!
If you'd like to be added to my new tag list, please lmk!
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Daryl watched as you paced in front of where he was sitting on his bed. His blue eyes tracked your every movement. You thought you had it together but with every passing moment you felt a scream welling up inside you.
"I will not apologize for surviving!" you burst out.
"Ya dun have to," Daryl said softly.
"I lived."
"I know..."
"I lived! I always lived!" Your voice was raising in pitch and volume and the unsettled and overwhelming feeling of concern tightening the pit of Daryl's stomach increased at the same rate. "I fucking lived and I did my FUCKING best to keep everyone else alive too!" Your voice broke and you suddenly froze, turning to look at him with pure desperation on your face. "I fucking lived," you said, but this time it sounded defeated. "Why? Why did I always live when—when they didn't?" Tears shone in your wide eyes.
Daryl was immediately on his feet. "It ain't yer fault."
"Why do I keep living when so many other people don't?" you asked him as if you expected him to have an answer. The tears broke out on your cheeks and your breath was shaky.
Daryl shook his head. "It ain't yer fault. Ya always do everythin' ya can for ev'rybody else. It ain't yer fault."
You barely suppressed a sob. "Then why do I feel like complete and utter shit?" you asked weakly.
Daryl shrugged and tried to swallow the lump in his throat. "Cause yer a good person." He knew that was no comfort. "C'mere," he said, suddenly folding you in against him. You collapsed toward him at his slightest touch. His chin came to rest on the top of your head. "Dun ever feel bad 'bout survivin'. Yer the one damn person who—who gives me hope."
You pulled slightly back and looked up at him in surprise, your eyes still glistening a little. "R-really?"
He nodded. "Hell yeah."
You sunk against him again and Daryl snuck a kiss into your hair, so lightly you didn't even feel it.
Prompt: "I will not apologize for surviving. I lived. I always lived. And I did my fucking best to keep everyone else alive too." A/N: Soft!Daryl MY HEART SEND HALP
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corvidcrossbow · 15 days
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Daryl's the kinda guy to have a small table in the living room that has the puzzle he's been slowly working on for practically months set out on it – he delicately moves it in front of the couch then sits and silently works on it some evenings, expect for little grunts of understanding when he finally figures out a certain section he was stumped on.
He gets so flustered when you come over to look, standing beside the couch and rubbing his shoulder for a little bit while admiring his work, and he so shyly says a thanks, sheepishly reaching for the next piece while you watch for a little.
He likes to go do it some nights where he can't sleep and feels like he's gonna disturb you by just lying awake next to you in bed, usually when he's having a harder time emotionally – this gives him something to do rather than sulk, even though the thoughts still do get to him while he's working on it sometimes.
Oh god and once he probably went to do that, but Dog came over and had a bit too much energy and knocked the table just enough for everything to slide off and crumble to the floor, ruined.
He just sat there for a moment, looking at the 3d triangular shape his nearly finished puzzle landed in. He didn't even sigh in defeat; he just got up and trekked his way back to your bedroom, gently waking you up by crawling into your arms.
And he buried his head into your neck, breathing you in uneasily and trying to steady himself. But as you rubbed his back and scratched his scalp, asking him what's wrong, he couldn't help but cry a little cause he already felt so negative and now felt sort of crushed, the time and effort he put into that for nothing. It makes him feel stupid; like why is he crying over a damn puzzle? He's a grown man, in a fucking apocalypse. He doesn't have time to cry over something so childish, let alone be doing a puzzle in the first place.
But your soothing helped to wash away his self loathing, tenderly reminding him it's okay to be upset about those kinda things: that it may be small in the perspective of the world, but it meant something to him. He put his time and his effort into it, and that's what made it something big.
That made him cry harder, your confirmation that it's okay to cry, getting that allowance to. His father surely banned crying, even over major things like his moms death, telling him there's no reason for a man to ever cry – and every time he'd beat him he would repeatedly demand he stop crying, until he eventually did: and the only times he ever cried were when he'd escape to be deep in the forest, sit alone and let his walls down for a little before having to put them all back up and face his homelife again, and shamed himself for doing such in the first place.
You're what finally let him express his love for the little things, and express how he felt when bad things happen with said little things.
He definitely didn't have many toys growing up, so he turned to things like puzzles – secretly doing them in his room late at night then shoving them under his bed when he wasn't working on it cause he knew Merle or his dad would make fun of him for it or destroy it – so doing puzzles now heals his inner child, and it getting knocked over hurt him even more cause it brought him back to those memories.
This was not meant to get sad but now I'm tearyeyed at 4:30 am while writing this. He's just tryna mend the kid his childhood broke :(
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dixonzzgirl · 2 months
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ok sorry but i can see daryl pissing you off for the first time and just not having a clue what to do so he RELUCTANTLY goes to carol for advice
but she wouldn't give him any and would assure him that he knows you better than he thinks and that he can resolve it on his own
i can just see the poor man being so shy and worried about doing or saying the wrong thing and making you MORE upset 😭 i think conflicts would be a hard thing for him to approach with a partner at first
ugh this is actually so sad because his anxiety would stem from him never getting an apology from anyone in his life. y'all think his deadbeat ass father ever apologized for the things he put daryl, merle or his wife through? i don't. do you think merle ever apologized for all of the times he'd torment daryl to make him more 'manly'? not a chance. he's never received an apology, so he wouldn't even know where to start when it came to giving one. he'd get sick over it because he wants you to know how sorry he feels for upsetting you. every time he closes his eyes, all he can see is the way your expression fell when he spoke those harsh words, the hurt on your face.
eventually he'd gather up the courage to find you and make things right. he'd fidget with his hands, shift his weight from one foot to the other, and feel like he's gonna throw all at once. his bottom lip would curve downwards in a frown as he spoke. " 'm sorry.. 'bout what i said earlier. i didn't mean it." it wouldn't be extravagant, but it was enough. the moment you forgive him, he'd feel the weight of the world lift off of his shoulders. suddenly he didn't feel so sick anymore, but he was slightly confused. he was preparing for the worst, preparing for you to end things. why would you stay with someone who says such mean things like that? why would you stay with someone like him? because you knew who he was, not who he pretended to be, but who he truly was. you knew that his hard exterior was a deception. you knew daryl cared. you knew how deeply he felt things.
taglist: @yarrystyleeza @malg333 @Bigbaldheadname @projectaurus @lilgoblinbitch @Daryldixonlover @vana @musically--declined @ufo-believer
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monsterinmyboxers · 8 months
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KINKTOBER! day 17. — breeding with DARYL DIXON.
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it was only supposed to be a bath.
you wanted to spoil him, just this once, feel his muscles relax beneath your fingers. it didn’t take a lot of convincing, much to your surprise. he needed this more than you thought.
it started with you washing his hair, massaging his scalp, sitting on the side of the tub as you did.
then after you rinsed the shampoo and conditioner out, whilst you reached for the body wash, he grabbed one of your wrists. the grip was oddly gentle, and wet as expected. “get in with me.” he suggested, pausing. “please.”
now you were naked, sat in the bath behind him, rubbing the body wash over his skin.
he wasn’t as tense as he was earlier, instead leaning onto your chest whilst you worked. you thought it was cute. but, after a while, he started to squirm, his hands reaching back and gripping your limp dick. guess he was tired of feeling it press against his lower back.
“really? here?” you spoke while he moved to face you, sitting on your thighs. “easy clean up.” his response made you chuckle.
he made quick work of prep, water making the process much easier. once he sunk down on your cock, all the way to the base, he relied on you to carry his body weight and bounce him on your lap.
you did say you wanted to take care of him, right?
so, you do, the water sloshing around at every slight movement, with daryl letting out grunts and shaky sighs.
the more time went on, the more talkative you got, a telltale sign that you were close. “god, you’re perfect.” so, so close. and the moment he noticed, daryl took full advantage of your state. you’d give him anything, especially when you were about to come.
“come inside of me, c’mon.” now he started to grind himself, attempting to coax the cum out of you. maybe, this was why he wanted you to join him. he missed that warmth, your warmth.
he would be willing to take it in any way he can. whether that be whenever it radiated from your smile, or your arms around him, or your lips pressed against his, or your cum inside him.
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sinsandsweetness · 9 months
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💿 I was thinking maybe Daryl and consensual somnophilia ? If that’s alright?
cw- somnophilia. proceed with caution.
18+ below the cut
You’re so fucking close to him. He can’t help the way his body’s reacting. Sharing a sleeping bag as an attempt to keep warm in the crisp autumn evening. It’s working. Oh boy, is it ever working. He’s warm. Hot even. Burning up at the feeling of your ass pressed to his crotch. And not to mention, he’s rock solid. Trying his absolute hardest not to move his hips against you but goddamn, you’re not making it easy. The way you’re pushing back on him in your sleep…
You are asleep. He knows that. You don’t want him. It’s just your body reacting to his. To the closeness. At least that’s what he tells himself.
What he wouldn’t give to pull your pretty little pyjama pants down and fuck you sideways til the sun comes up.
“Mmhm,”
He freezes at the sound of your moan. Was he rocking too hard? Did he wake you up from the throbbing tent in his pants?
But as he listens closely, he can still hear that soft, adorable snore coming from your nose. At the realization, his shoulders relax and he nuzzles his face into your neck.
He knows he’d be way too scared to touch you like this if you were awake. The way he’s breathing in your scent, with his lips brushing your neck. His arm wrapped around your waist and pulling you flush against his chest. Against his painfully hard, swollen erection. The one that’s probably leaking through his flannel pyjama pants if he had the courage to turn around and feel. He doesn’t. He doesn’t even want to know if it’s true. The thought alone makes him cringe. God, he feels pathetic. The only time he can show you what you mean to him is when you aren’t even awake to see it. To feel it. Well… you can feel it. But you’re not aware of it. You’re not even conscious.
The hand around your waist trails lower. Reaching the thin band of your sleep pants, Daryl starts to fidget with the flimsy drawstring. Fighting the temptation to slip his hand underneath and rub you over your panties. Show him how much you really mean to him.
He shouldn’t. He knows better. But for some reason it doesn’t stop him from grinding further into your ass. Squeezing his eyes shut at the feeling, doing everything in his power not to moan right in your ear.
His stomach drops when he feels your hand grab his. The one fidgeting with your drawstrings. His mouth gets all dry and he feels like he’s about to throw up. That is, until you press his hand further down, guiding his touch to your cotton covered cunt.
He’s frozen. Confused. Heart racing so hard he can feel it against the pillow. He can hear his blood pumping through his damn arteries.
You moved. He knows you’re still asleep. He’d put money on it. But you fucking moved his hand in your sleep and now, he doesn’t even know what to do with himself.
His temptations get the best of him and slowly, he starts to rub lazy circles over your clit. Soft, tired mumbles begin to leave your throat. No words, just faint, sleepy sounds. Groans and whimpers. Subconsciously asking for more. Begging for some form of release.
“Fuck,” he breathes out. Continuing to grind into your ass. Slow as his body will let him. He can already feel his orgasm starting to build. Dick throbbing as he uses your cheeks. Chasing the sweet friction of your warmth against his cock.
He can’t help himself. He doesn’t even want to. It’s a miracle you haven’t woken up yet, and it’s giving him this rush of adrenaline that has him wondering what else he can get away with. What else you can manage to sleep through.
That’s when he slips his hands under your waist band. Under your panties too. The pad of his middle finger immediately going to glide up through your drooling slit. Already soaking with arousal.
Shit.
Your warm cunt practically invites him in. He starts pumping to the same rhythm as his thrusts against your ass. You let out a moan at the feeling of his thick digits hitting your sweet spot.
Fuck. He buries himself into your neck as he fingers you. He doesn’t even want to see if he woke you up. You’re not stopping him. So you mustn’t have an issue, on the off chance that you are awake.
You’re still gripping the arm that’s wrapped around you, muscles flexing against your touch as his fingers work their borderline magic below the covers. You feel yourself drifting in and out of that drowsy state between awake and asleep. Feeling the warmth encompass you as your orgasm starts to flow through you. A wave of dreamlike pleasure erupting from your core as the man’s hips from behind you start to stutter. Cumming right there in his pyjama pants. His movements slow to a halt as he’s forced to come to terms with what he’s done. His eyes are still closed. Too scared to look up and see your pretty ones looking back at him. So with his blue eyes closed, he gently removes his hands from your panties, still dripping with your creamy substances.
It’s hitting him. The fact that he just made you come. And he’s starting to feel guilty, the feeling quickly forcing him to come down from his high. Stomach beginning to churn as his heart rate speeds up once again.
Just turn around and go to sleep.
He listens to the voice in his head. Trying his best to turn over without making a sound. Without bothering your limp body laying next to him.
He lifts his fingers to his mouth and he’s convinced he could come again from the taste of you.
Within a few minutes, he starts to doze off, facing the dark, mesh siding of the tent. He feels you rustle beside him in the sleeping bag. Flipping around and snaking an arm around his own waist. Quickly settling your body against his back. Cuddling up like his puzzle piece and tucking your chin on his shoulder.
You press a sweet kiss right below his ear and mumble a quiet, “g’night, D.”, into his skin.
And to avoid the humiliation that rapidly shoots up his core and burns like a fire across his whole face, he decides that it’s probably his turn to pretend to be asleep.
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lilgoblinbitch · 3 months
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The Archer Finds a Soulmate 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔
girl dad!daryl dixon x fem!reader
a/n: this idea was offered by @yummymeee !! was trying to find fluffy daryl prompts and this one stuck with me.
summary: Daryl is a father of a young girl and has always had trouble trusting new people. When he meets you, everything changes.
warnings: none really, typical twd stuff, just some angst and fluff at the end :)
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Daryl Dixon was left raising a child in the apocalypse. He didn't expect to find himself taking care of a baby all by himself after the mother of his child ended up hiding it from him, and on her death bed begging Daryl to keep the baby safe. Of course, Daryl would love his baby girl till the day he died. She was the light of his life. She was the only thing left in this cruel world that reminded him of what made life worth living.
Five years after the start of the apocalypse, Daryl was extremely lucky to have been part of a large community that actually showed not only him, but his little girl, charity and companionship. All he wished for was a safe home and chance for his daughter to grow up happy. Because he never got to have a happy childhood himself, it almost felt imperative for him to manifest his own happiness and prosperity by giving his own kid that opportunity.
"Jasmine! Get outta that pile'a crap and c'mere!"
The five-year-old girl lay on her back in mound of dirt and leaves, swishing her arms and legs back and forth. "Daddy, look! I'm making a dirt angel!"
Daryl scoffed as he peered over at his daughter, who was collecting bits of leaves and sticks and dirt in her hair and probably covering every inch of the fabric of her outfit. An outfit that Carol had recently washed, because it originally got stained with orange juice and pudding. Unfortunately little predicaments like that were bound to happen to any little kid. It didn't bother Daryl, he just didn't want to put more of a burden on Carol.
Daryl stood up from the log he was sitting on, setting the dead rabbit he was working on skinning to the side. "Jas! Ya want food or not?" He called out, waving the playful child over to him. She perked her head up at him, her dark curly hair now decorated with bits of colorful leaves and sticks, almost making her hair look like a Christmas tree in some way. The child obeyed and jumped up from the ground, shaking off the dirt that layered her clothing. And of course, they needed to be washed again.
Joining her father by the fire, Jasmine plopped down on the log across from him and simpered at him. He smiled back after examining her youthful grin and spotting the smeared dirt on her face. "Ya got dirt on yer face, silly girl. Here, wipe yer hands and face with this." He handed her a towel, one that was adorned with pink and purple flowers. She loved that little beach towel. She snatched it out of her father's hands and hastily rubbed it all over her face and hands, then tossing it on the ground. Daryl sighed in distress.
"How many more things of yers we gotta ask Carol to wash?"
"We're outside, daddy. There is dirt, and you say dirt makes us dirty. So it's got to make everything else dirty, right?" Her enthusiasm never failed to make him grin and forget what he was even upset at her about.
"A'ight, watch me, ready?" Daryl grabbed the dead rabbit and continued skinning it, making sure Jasmine was watching him. Her face contorted in disgust.
"I don't wanna do that, daddy! It's gross and it hurts the rabbit."
He ignored her complaining and continued skinning it. "It's dead already. Didn't feel any pain, I promise," he reassured the child. "I just needed to show ya how yer dad makes yer all-time favorite food: rabbit stew."
The little girl shook her head. "No, my favorite food is Carol's cookies, and the Kingdom's cobbler!"
Daryl rolled his eyes, finishing up skinning the rabbit and then sticking it on a stick and placing it over the fire. Throughout their meal, Daryl told her about the time he first ever had to eat rabbit, and how he was around her age. His daughter was always absolutely thrilled to hear stories, especially from her father. She admired him more than he realized. And she looked forward to every Thursday afternoon, because that's when Daryl took her out for walks in the woods, pointing out various plants and showing her how to differentiate between animal tracks and walker tracks. Of course, she was too young to fully understand everything he taught her, but it made him more comfortable knowing that she was learning early on.
Some nights Daryl lay awake, tossing and turning only to say "fuck it" and go out in the woods where he could ease his mind, while his daughter was already fast asleep in the room across the hall. He loved being alone in the woods; just him and no one else to disturb him for a few hours.
However, one night he ended up acquiring company from an unexpected individual: you. Daryl didn't know very much about you, besides the fact that you joined Alexandria not too long after he and his group did. You were quiet and reserved, always keeping to yourself and never being found in large crowds because you were always more content when alone. Daryl often found himself following you into the woods to see what you even did out there, but you were just too quick to spy on. And truthfully, you were afraid of Daryl. You had seen how similar he was to you in some ways; his love for nature and serenity and the comfort of being isolated from the loudness of the community you lived in. You observed him going into the woods and not coming back out for hours, just as you did. He ended up becoming a valued member of Alexandria as he helped Aaron recruit new members to the community. He was becoming more outspoken than you, and that seemed to make you nervous.
Tonight, curiosity got the best of you and you decided to go and see what it was that Daryl the archer father did late at night in the woods, all alone.
Daryl did not anticipate anyone to be as good of a tracker as he was, especially in the dark of night. But being the daughter of a hunter father ended up advantaging you with that skill. So when he heard footsteps and prepared to send an arrow flying and landing between the eyes of a walker, but ended up being face to face with you, he was surprised to say the least.
"Hey, um, Daryl right?" Your flashlight beamed onto his face, and he squinted. "Sorry," you turned it off and shoved it in your pocket, "I just, um...I always see you out here, and I'm always out here, so..."
"So what?" Daryl wasn't in the mood for visitors, especially not annoyingly beautiful women such as yourself. You made him nervous.
Daryl kicked the dirt around with his feet, not looking up at you as you continued to speak to him. "Look, I'm not really a people person, and you probably want nothing to do with me because I never talked to you before...but I–" you stopped to look down at the dirt and shuffle your feet in it as well, involuntarily mimicking Daryl. "I dunno, I just need a friend, I think."
You could feel Daryl's eyes on you now, the glow of the small fire illuminating his auburn hair and the specks of hair on his beard. You swallowed hard, becoming a nervous wreck under his hard gaze. "Why me?" Was all he managed to say after studying your face. You finally made eye contact with him after mustering up the courage to do so. He had pretty eyes.
"Because I think we're alike in a lot of ways." You tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and leaned against the thick tree beside you. "And honestly, you're one of the only people I know of that has better tracking skills than me," you added, voice soft and unsure. Unsure of what the mysterious man in front of you was thinking. It seemed like he had so much going on in his head all the time, and that's because he did. His thoughts raced, thoughts about you and how pretty you looked under the sparkling fire and why the hell you were talking to a loser single dad like him.
But you didn't see him like that. You were intimidated by him – always have been, except this time he intimidated you in a way you never expected. He made you want to open up to him, because you could tell now that he was just like you. You went your whole life never wanting to be seen by anyone, but Daryl changed that.
Daryl's lack of words left you in your thoughts once again. What if that was his sign for you to scram? What if he hated you? What if he thought you were a fucking creep for sneaking up on him in the middle of the night in the woods? You couldn't handle the fear of rejection so you took matters into your own hands.
Sighing in defeat, you turned on your heal and started for the other direction back to Alexandria, until you were abruptly stopped in your tracks.
"Wait."
Daryl did not wish for you to leave. He believed you. You were like him. "Ya wanna come hunting?"
Your eyes lit up in elation, and you smiled at him. "Yeah, I'd love to."
After a only a few weeks, you and Daryl became friends. He properly introduced you to his daughter Jasmine, who when meeting you for the first time told you, "You're pretty!" It melted your heart. Yours and Daryl's friendship grew drastically from then on. You respected him a lot, as he did you. The two of you were able to teach each other things about nature and hunting that the other had no clue about; you taught Daryl which herbs were best for different things, and he taught you how to shoot with a crossbow. Of course, your bow and arrow and your dagger were just enough for you already, but it pleased you to know that Daryl actually wanted to teach you.
Soon enough it was evident that you and Daryl were growing a deeper connection than the two of you originally anticipated. But somehow you weren't scared of it. You felt content around him, and it was clear that he felt that way about you, too.
"Jasmine!" Daryl called out, frantically searching the woods for his pesky little daughter. The sun was setting over the tree line ahead of him, clouds painted orange and pink. It was going to be dark soon, and he had no idea where his daughter had run off to.
Daryl found his feet moving on their own, eyes shifting around his surroundings while he attempted to track the footsteps of his daughter. "Jas! C'mon let's go!" Suddenly the sound of a twig snapping filled the air. His heartbeat quickened, and his paternal instincts kicked in. He raced toward the sound, crossbow at the ready.
He was just about ready to shoot whatever was hiding behind the tree but when he saw you walking with Jasmine he stopped in his tracks, lowering his weapon. You and Jasmine both glanced up at him simultaneously, and the little girl ran up to her father and hugged him. A sigh of relief overcame him as he bent down to hug her back. You beamed down at the two of them, admiring how touching the sight was.
"Where were ya?" Daryl stood back up, moving his focus between both you and his daughter. You could tell he was trying his hardest to stay calm, but the fact that his daughter was running off in the woods without him made him feel uneasy and on edge.
"Don't worry, I found her by a stream back there. She told me she wanted to learn how to catch frogs," you reassured him. He grinned and looked down at the girl, who was carrying a red bucket full of croaking amphibians.
"Look how many I caught, daddy!" She lifted the bucket up to Daryl and he peered into it. "Well someone's a professional frog catcher now, ey?" He teased.
The three of you reached the gates and Jasmine hurriedly ran down the street to the other kids outside. You smiled and turned to Daryl, who was already staring at you. You blushed and looked down at your feet.
"Sorry, I should have told you she was with me. She just seemed so excited and I couldn't say no, so–"
"Nah. Don't need to apologize," he interrupted, reaching his hand up to brush a strand of hair out of his face. "I, uh, thank you, fer watchin' her."
A gentle breeze drifted through your hair and you brushed stray strands out of your face, all the while Daryl shifted his weight and gathered the pith to express his feelings at that moment. He needed to get it off his chest.
Your doe eyes only impelled him further.
"Uh..." his anxious eyes finally met your passionate ones. "I think Jas might enjoy having ya over fer dinner t'night."
This time you tittered, nodding your head enthusiastically. "If this is your way of wanting more of my company, just say it, Daryl." Your face muscles seriously ached from smiling so hard. "I... I like you. And I would love to come over, honestly, any time."
Daryl's face flushed a shade of pink you'd never seen on him before. It made you giddy. "I like ya too."
That moment felt so cliche – it felt like you and Daryl were part of a silly teenage romcom film. But you two earned that cliche moment. You were surprisingly capable of harvesting a healthy connection with someone who really meant a lot to you.
The magnetic pull between the two of you grew stronger and stronger, reeling your body closer to his. Your hand instinctively brushed against his, making Daryl's insides mushy.
A smirk ran across yours lips and you grabbed Daryl's hand firmly. "C'mon, let's go make some food for tonight."
That evening you cooked venison stew for Daryl and his daughter, by gratitude of the huge buck Daryl scored earlier that morning. Secretly you loved to cook, but you'd only ever cook for someone who was special to you; back in the day you'd always cook for your father after he'd go out hunting and bring back game that gave you an opportunity to create a mouth-watering recipe. Today, that special someone was Daryl. You truly believed he deserved a decent meal from you after everything he'd done for you. He won your trust and respect – even more so your love.
"Thank you."
Daryl was sprawled out on the couch, staring up at you as you had finished cleaning up the dishes. He had already tucked Jasmine into bed up stairs, afterward coming back down to gawk at you.
You wiped your hands on a towel and set it on the counter, turning your attention the the comfortable man on the couch. "No need to thank me. I wanted to cook for you." You joined him on the couch, drowning in the soft cushion and taking in the homey vibe of his living room.
He sat up, turning his body toward you. That expression was painted on his face again – the one that told you he was doubting himself, or that he was trying really hard to articulate his emotions. You took his hands in yours, a decision that caught Daryl by surprise. "You don't need to doubt yourself anymore. I know what you're feeling, trust me."
Your reassurance kindled the spark of courage Daryl so desperately needed. It was as if you were his god, his creator – the one to send him the message from the sky to tell him it was his time to listen to his heart. And so he did.
The archer's rough, calloused fingers traced shapes over the dry skin of your hands. Your gaze melted him like plastic by the fire, and the words your spoke to him spilled from your lips like a prayer.
"Kiss me, Daryl."
Carefully Daryl parted his lips while searching your face for any uncertainties; there were none. And so he kissed you. He kissed you like you were a porcelain doll, suppressing his strength as to not break you. He wanted this kiss to last forever, and so did you.
Daryl trusted his gut that you were the one for him, and boy was that the best decision he ever made right there and then.
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grimesgirll · 4 months
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you were never the type of person to need someone to help you fall asleep before meeting rick and daryl.
not even as a kid did you need your parents to hold your hand to fall asleep. but now? after having two men warm your bed, you could hardly stand to sleep alone.
this became a problem whenever daryl got into one of his moods of wanting to be alone or even when he went on hunting trips. usually, it could be quelled by rick holding you and lavishing you with his attention at night but when they were both gone? you hated it.
you typically spent your nights without them tossing and turning, a hand between your legs trying to relieve yourself of the itch that only they could scratch.
it was all the same that night. after eating dinner with carl and judith,and getting the toddler to bed, you skulk over to your bedroom. ready to spend the night staring at the ceiling until boredom finally kicked in like a nyquil.
you’d told rick before how you missed him when he was out on runs or taking watch shifts. his solution? count sheep.
looking back, you wish you would’ve strangled him. sleeping wasn’t as easy as counting sheep. you should know; you were the one who typically dealt with judith’s sleep troubles after all. some nights the girl couldn’t go down without another story or another hug, or being rocked in your arms.
not even judith was keeping you up tonight. she’d fallen asleep easily after a day of playing outside and running around with carl. had you regressed so much that a toddler was sleeping better than you?
you think so as you pull back the covers, shifting into the empty bed. it was unnecessarily cold without your boys. they were out on a long scavenging trip - most trips turned out to be long nowadays with how depleted everything nearby was. you’d wanted to go with, but they always insisted that you needed to stay home and take care of the kids. great! you loved hanging with rick’s brood and you loved alexandria too but was it worth being without rick and daryl? debatable.
before attempting to close your eyes and count sheep, you pop a sleep supplement, summoning the bottle from your bedside table and downing a purple capsule. you weren't the first person in this house to have night terrors and you wouldn't be the last, so you guys opted to keep some sleep medicine in stock, just in case.
it still takes a few minutes of rolling around in the comforter to fall asleep. then, you're in a deep, dreamless sleep.
you don't hear them when they come in.
you're catching up on the much needed z's that you missed the past four sleepless nights when the bedroom door opens and two pairs of feet thud on the carpet. with their muddy boots and battered outside clothing discarded, the pair of men slip into bed beside your sleeping form.
as daryl curls into your side, he's disappointed that you're not awake to witness him tucking himself in beside you not smelling like blood, or guts, or the woods for once.
they'd showered at a cabin, which actually not too far from alexandria. the cabin was nestled into a hill and some dense woods between two white picket developments, left to the dead who inhabited it. he, rick, and tara had found some bodies - middle aged - in the basement in a panic room, and evidence of a small, long gone group of survivors. their abandoned shit scattered throughout the place was the win alexandria needed. these scavenging trips weren't always successful, especially with every fucker in a fifty mile radius selfish, cruel, or insane. it was rare they met decent folk. but at least after going hours out and finding jack, they could bring back enough MREs, preserves, and siphoned gas to have those needs off their minds for a while.
daryl's mind immediately wanders to you as he lays back on the satin sheets you'd picked out. you're splayed out in the middle of the bed with your arms wrapped around a round pillow. lips parted; you look peaceful in a way that makes daryl's dick twitch in his boxers.
rick's already leaning against you, a hard outline starting to form in the pajama pants he'd pulled on before jumping in bed. odd choice given how fast they usually came off. his arms are wrapped around you as he settles in for the night.
"so glad we're back," rick exhales into your rising and falling chest.
daryl nods from where he is.
"thought i was gonna combust."
you and me both. he thinks, but just stares at the ceiling, enjoying the soft bed and the feeling of you next to him.
it's not long before the bed is creaking and he knows rick is yanking you closer, whispering in your ear, asking, "you awake, doll?" you don't stir. rick shoots him a look that daryl obliges by sinking down between your legs to work them open, testing a finger lightly against your entrance.
while your leader peppers your chest with kisses and slowly tugs down your tank top, daryl presses his finger inside of you. he hisses. "she's tight after all this time, man."
rick chuckles against your collarbone. "course she is."
you're still asleep when another two fingers are added to your cunt and you're starting to turn on like a fountain. "god, she's gushin'," daryl observes with a hard on while he scissors his fingers in and out of you.
rick has your tank top laying somewhere on the floor to make way for his mouth on your tits, alternating between the two. how you're not awake? they'll never know. not until you wake up the next morning and tell them about the sleep supplement you took before you crashed.
the sheriff's mouth rampages across your chest and up along your pulse point, before working back to your breast. when you were awake, you loved the feeling of rick's mouth on you. you loved it when you were asleep too.
"remember how wet you were when you woke up?" rick whispered in your ear, one time when he had you snug in his arms before you fell asleep, reminding you how good you would feel the next morning after they fucked you through the night.
okay, it wasn't all night but enough to make you feel the stretch the next morning and get your mouth watering at the thought of them enjoying your sleeping cunt. to get distracted during the day thinking about what you'd be up to that night, while you were asleep.
you stir now, body slightly tensing at the feeling of arms around you and three fingers in your pussy. "what?" you murmur, barely quelling a yawn.
rick holds you tighter in his arms, meeting your eyes when you ask when they got in.
"not soon enough," daryl mutters as he detracts his fingers and starts to shed his boxers.
before you know it, rick's pajama pants are nowhere to be seen and you're sinking down on his thick cock. daryl's on your left before you know it and suddenly rick's facing you toward his friend. you're met with the sight of his dick, which you take eagerly into your mouth, pumping what you were too busy waking up right now to swallow with your hand.
"you're always so good for us when we get back, darlin'," rick commends you as you slowly rise up and down on his cock.
you nod, moaning all over daryl as rick's fingers cement into your hips and he drives into you. "oh," you gasp into the man in front of you. he thumbs your cheek while you fit more of him into your mouth, thrusting shallowly.
"i'm sure you’re gonna wanna wake up like this every night now, huh, doll?"
with him buried in your nerve wrought pussy and daryl almost down your throat now, all you can do is nod and hum a sweet garbled yes. it's gonna be a long night, but at least they're back.
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msbethgreene · 5 months
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blackvelveteen1339 · 4 months
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I love how delicately he signs with his pinkie finger out😩 Everything about this man is so soft but masculine at the same time 😩✨️
~Norman signing a fan's picture at the Atlanta Comic Convention on February 10, 2024, Atlanta, Georgia
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darylsdelts · 5 months
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DARYL DIXON HEADCANNONS
(Very) random personal headcannons, how I view Daryl, your opinion may be different.
(mdni, nsfw, 18+)
So socially awkward (obviously)
Will let you use tweezers on his monobrow but only if you swear not to tell a single soul.
He likes to lay his head in your lap and have you gently trace his eyebrows with your finger tips, it makes him so sleepy.
Mostly enjoyed dad rock before the outbreak but would never admit to liking lady gaga.
He’s super uncomfortable with PDA, the most he’ll do in public is rub your shoulders or ruffle your hair. If you kiss him in front of others and they see, it actually kinda upsets him since he would’ve told you he doesn’t like it, he saves that part of himself for only you and only in private.
That being said, in your own home he can be sort of clingy but not in a needy way, more of a “I don’t want you out of my sight” way.
He’s more touchy and affectionate in private, hugs from behind, squeezing your hips.
He knows you well enough that if you sit between his legs on the floor whilst he’s on the couch it means you want your hair played with, and he will do it without you having to ask and won’t stop until you ask him to.
He gets grumpy about the fact that dog always chooses you over him for cuddles on the couch or in bed.
He doesn’t mind having his shirt off in front of you, it’s not his favourite thing but he appreciates that you make no big fuss about it considering you know the reasons why he hasn’t always been comfortable with doing that.
❤️‍🔥Contrary to popular belief, he’s not very dominant at all, he’s either vanilla and will take the lead sometimes but not in a very dominating way or he’s submissive, that’s it.
❤️‍🔥there have been a few times when the word “mommy” has slipped out when he’s super stimulated and kind of out of it.
❤️‍🔥he likes overstimulation.
He’s often the most submissive when he’s had a hard day or he’s tired, and this doesn’t have to mean in a sexual way, he’s just a very soft and gentle man with you and you only.
However, although he’s not a very sexual person in general, a man has his needs.
❤️‍🔥He wants to initiate things but he’s never really sure how and is afraid of making you feel like you have to do anything, sometimes he’ll get hard just by looking at you and he’ll try to cross his legs to hide it but will scoot closer to trace his fingers on your thigh, you understand that him doing that means he’s in the mood.
❤️‍🔥you’re really his first experience of having a partner so he’s learnt everything from you, your first time with him he got so worked up that you didn’t even manage to get him out of his pants before he accidentally finished but you don’t ever bring it up, you know he felt guilty but you assured him it was perfectly okay.
❤️‍🔥that doesn’t happen anymore but the man does tend to get sexually frustrated since the apocalypse doesn’t leave much time for self indulgence, sometimes he’ll come home from a run, straining in his jeans. These are the times when you can tell he’s eager because he gets all messy, hands roaming over your body and he’s so breathless, you tell him you’re gonna take care of him and you do.
❤️‍🔥sometimes Daryl will leave love bites on you, he tries to do it in places people won’t see but sometimes people do see and he tries to play it cool every time when people ask him if he put them there. “Put what where?” “Mind ya damn business” “s’just s bruise”.
One time you told him he was a dilf and he was DISTRAUGHT. “I’m a what?!” “Ain’t a dad, girl!” “The fuck is a daddy kink?”
And no he’s not into the whole daddy kink.
❤️‍🔥he prides himself on how good he is a using his mouth and fingers on you, he once got you off in just over a minute and he’s striving to bear his record. (HAHHAAH)
We all know he’s got daddy issues but his mommy issues are strong.
He likes how maternal you can sometimes be in the relationship, for example if he’s sick or hurt you tend to treat him like he’s younger without even meaning to, he pretends he doesn’t like it but you both know he does.
Daryl used to get panic attacks sometimes before the outbreak, more often when he was younger and in school but he’d sometimes get them randomly when out and about with Merle. Merle was hard minded but he knew how to calm Daryl down and make sure he was alright. Merle was a good brother.
The panic attacks came as a result from all the stress he got from his father and losing his mother as a child and pretty much just not having a stable life.
He rarely got them after the outbreak, in a way the new world was a blessing in disguise for Daryl as he became his own person.
But he’s still get them sometimes, usually there was no particular reason for them but stress and a build up of emotions that he holds in too much. You’ve come to learn that when these happen there’s no telling what he needs, sometimes he needs help calming down and other times he just needs to be left alone.
He doesn’t talk about his feeling with people but he knows that you much prefer to talk things through and you want to know how he’s doing so he tries to tell you when he’s not feeling good but he always waits until he can’t keep it in anymore.
This results in him crying in front of you which he hates but you’re so good at comforting him, he lets you hold him and he hide his face in your shoulder.
He’ll pretend nothing happened once he’s okay.
❤️‍🔥he likes his dick sucked. That’s it. He’s not too vocal during sex, maybe a few grunts but when you suck him off that’s when he whimpers and moans although he’s still quiet. He’s just a quiet guy.
❤️‍🔥his dick twitches when you tease him, you tease him under the table sometimes and it gets him all leaky in his pants and he has to hide the small damp spot when he stand up. He tries to grab your hand to stop you under the table and leans his head in his other hand to cover his mouth a bit to try to keep his breath steady.
❤️‍🔥teasing him under the table is a common occurrence, he loves it, the fact that people are around but can’t see and he has to keep quiet, one time you made him cum at dinner and his eyes got a bit glossy causing Rick to ask if he was okay, he just cleared his throat and grunted out a “yes”.
he talks very fondly of his brother Merle and his mother even if she wasn’t the best, he rarely talks about his father for obvious reasons.
Such a mommas boy.
He calls you “sweetheart” and “Darlin’”
He giggles around you instead of just scoffing.
Lmk if I should do more!! Idk if these are good or not but it’s how I see him❤️❤️
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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 2 months
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"What's the matter? That was a big sigh," Daryl said, glancing over at you beside him on the steps, looking out over Alexandria.
"I was just thinking that there was a time when I would have felt right at home here in this little... Stepford Wives suburbia. Now... it kind of makes me feel sick. Probably means I'm broken or something, right?" you said with a wry laugh. "Just—sometimes I miss who I was before all this. Maybe not all of me, but pieces."
"I don't," Daryl said quickly.
You laughed and gave him a look. "Course you don't. You didn't know me."
"No. But I dun gotta. I know ya now," he said with a nod. "And I can't imagine ya bein' any better back then than ya are righ' here, righ' now. Dun think it's possible."
You stared back at him, searching his sincere face, looking somewhat startled at his words. Speechless.
He felt suddenly self-conscious and ducked your stunning eyes. "S'true..." he drawled, biting his bottom lip.
You sighed and scooted over closer to him until your sides were touching, then you looped your arm through his, and leaned against the strong man who was always there for you.
Prompt: "Sometimes I miss who I was before all this."
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silk-spun · 9 months
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😚
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dixonzzgirl · 8 months
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“good morning, sleepyhead.” you coo at the drowsy archer, rubbing up and down his muscular arm. in return, he nuzzles his face into his pillow and groans, hiding his faint smile from you.
“you still wanna go on that run today?” you ask, leaving small, lazy kisses on his shoulder, that trail down to his bicep. he tilts his head up to answer, but his gaze lands on your lips. he glances up at you with puppy eyes that beg you to close the gap. to make matters worse, he lets out a weak groan that came out sounding like a whimper. you love how whiny and needy he is for you in the morning. it stirs something in you .. knowing he craves you as much as you do him. you make him work for it .. make him tell you how badly he wants your sloppy, wet kisses all over his face. ducking down, only inches away from his lips, you smile devilishly.
“hm?” you ask in an innocent and taunting tone, hovering right over his mouth. he nods, eyes never wavering from your lips. his lips part slightly and he breathes in your existence, ready for your lips to crash down. however, you dip down slowly, giving into him at your own discretion. his hand squeezes your body flush up against his. you can feel his hardened cock under the blanket. it makes your pussy throb knowing he’s already so desperate for you. you pull away to whisper against his lips in a cocky tone.
“might have to push the time back a little.” with one quick motion, daryl pushes your shoulder flat against the bed and hovers over top of you, taking every ounce of power back. he uses one of his rough hands to force your legs wide open.
“yeah... we will.” he grunts out, only centimeters away from your open mouth. he couldn't take anymore teasing, his cock was so hard it hurt. your brain went fuzzy, feeling his weight over top of you. it was going to be a long (and girthy) morning.
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itsmeatballworld · 1 year
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| to the night sky |
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pairing | daryl dixon x f!reader
summary | It’s autumn in Virginia so Daryl invites Reader to spend a night cuddling under the stars.
wc | 857
warnings | kisses, autumn time in Virginia, and soft boyfriend!daryl... so nah, no warnings <3
a/n | note this has some spoilers for season 9 but nothing crazy. Also posted on my ao3!!
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His eyes were so bright. Bluer than the sky. Bluer than the sea.
You’ll remember that ‘til the day you die.
You tore your gaze away for a second, just to glance up at the tiny twinkling lights above.
His callous hand latched onto yours as the hearth outside flickered in and out. “Should get some rest,” Daryl whispered.
“We should.” Your fingers twirled across his rough palm. “But look… damn, look at those stars. They’re beautiful. You gotta look. The clouds are gonna block them.”
Daryl smiled, his eyes never leaving your face as you watched the sky. “Yeah. Beautiful.”
“You didn’t even peek,” you murmured as his hands snuck around to caress your round hips.
“I did too.” His tone was playful as a smirk etched across his lips.
Tonight, the sky was black and painted in tiny twinkling lights. Dark and looming from the east, thick grey clouds slowly began to shadow the moonlight cascading through the trees.
You were somewhere in Virginia between a dried up creek and spacious woods. Location never mattered anymore. You were living—surviving—and enjoying the brief moments of peace left for the breathing.
Colors of cinnamon, brick red, and yellow as bright as corn litter the ground in piles. It was the fleeting beauty of Autumn, until the heavy rains and mud blur the colors in a dark, murky haze.
Atop the little hill was your makeshift campsite. Daryl tugged and tied each layer down as tight as possible. The lopsided tent with a worn clear-plastic sheet roof showed the sky. An old pail near the zipped-up entrance used as Dog’s water bowl. Wool and cotton blankets dragged from Alexandria covered the thin tent floor. The dying light of a small fire pit was nearly out after hours of ignoring its plea for more firewood. Daryl wanted to keep you safe when visiting. Less light, less problems, he’d murmur.
Tonight, you were snuggled up to Daryl. His arm around your waist, pressing your chest to his in a tight embrace. He loved holding your warm body close, trailing his hands up and down your hips and thighs, as if you were his lifeline.
Tonight was perfect. A peaceful autumn night alone with your lover.
“Aye.” He drops his voice. “You should head back in the mornin’. Safer in the sunlight.”
Back. Back to the group. Back to your home in Alexandria. Back to safety and walls.
“Sure,” you mumbled.
You didn’t want to admit it, but you liked being outside the walls of safety. You liked the wondrous and dangerous world surrounding you. Life was precious but you never wanted to waste time living in a bubble. “Come with me?”
Daryl paused, his fingers drawing light circles into your skin. It might not have been words, but you knew his answer. No. He had a job to do. Look for Rick.
You sighed, resting your head into the crook of his neck. “Alright… but if you change your mind, you know where to find me.” Breathing in deeply you tried to bury the smell of him in your memory. He smelled like homemade soap and tobacco.
“Carol stopped by, huh?”
The stoic man let out a soft chuckle. “You can tell?”
“Soap… a new haircut… blankets without holes? I’d say she prepped you with the good stuff for this weekend.” Those blue eyes were glued on you. His fingers trailed your side until he dug in a bit deeper. He hugged your curves into his body like he never wanted this to end.
“Mmhm.” Daryl smiled. “Good stuff.”
Your hands slipped up his chest, digging your fingers into the cotton tee. “Hole-less blankets,” you giggled. “Gosh, Mr. Dixon, you know just how to please a girl.”
He grumbled as he tugged the waist of your pants down an inch. “Anythin’ for my girl.”
That deep, raspy voice scratched an itch deep in your soul. “Your girl, huh?” Your lips pressed into his as those rough hands wound underneath your clothes.
He grumbled a response as he continued to kiss you deeply. Every morsel of your being tingled and buzzed with excitement to be near him. To be so close to him.
Maybe it was the forced time spent together, but Daryl Dixon is someone you never thought you’d get after the world stopped moving forward. You never thought you’d have a man who loves you so deeply. Who pines for you. Who finds you funny—and genuinely laughs at your jokes. Some days he doesn’t talk much but hugs you from behind and kisses the crook of your neck. It was love. Pure, endless love.
He pulled back from your lips. The hazy look of exhaustion mixed with lust washed over him. “C’mon, I mean it. Get some sleep.”
“How can I when you kiss me like that?” You smiled as those blue eyes lingered on your swollen kiss-stained lips.
Daryl grunted. He pecked the edge of your smile before pulling you into a tight cuddle. “Sleep.”
You closed your eyes.
The night sky was beautiful but all you could think about were those bright blue eyes.
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a/n 2.0 | ily *mwah* and ily daryl dixon
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blindinghope · 24 days
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MY HEART ACHES!!! i think shooting me in the leg would hurt less
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