the-dixon-effect

[the-dixon-effect]

Growing up a Dixon - through Daryl’s eyes

Been thinking about Daryl who documented his life through the lens of a shitty stolen digital camera. In a typical loud, rowdy, argumentative household, Daryl learned to appreciate the quiet and peaceful moments in his life.

[the-dixon-effect]

Feral

Shane Walsh/Reader

Warnings: 18+, language, smut (sort of…rated M), blood mention

—

Some men are made of stuff too strong for this world, too bitter. More beast in them than human.

You’ve always liked your coffee black, never minded a bit of teeth in a kiss.

For that taste, you would’ve gone to someone else, first. Certainly not Shane, crouching down to talk softly to children. Shane with the hang-dog eyes the color of freshly tilled earth. Shane with his “morning, ma’am” and his careful counting of heads, making sure nobody was missing.

Does he know that he mouths the tally out, five, six, seven…?

Keep reading

[the-dixon-effect]

thinking about daryl giving you a nickname…

18+, mdni

AN: this was a midnight brain worm while i was working on something else, so just walk with me ok!

daryl wasn't really one for nicknames.

he'd never had one coming up, always just "daryl" or "merle's brother" or something else sneered and distasteful. that was fine with him. to daryl, nicknames were rooted in sarcasm and mean jokes.

it hadn't started any differently with you.

that day in the quarry way back, the morning after the walkers had attacked their people. daryl was already aggravated, sweaty and thinking about merle (alone and hurt and alone), and he didn't much like these fucking people anyway, so when you stood with glenn, insisting on a burial over burning, dried tear tracks on your face (those people were your people too. you were mourning with the rest of them), he didn't hold back, sneering "well ain't you just a fuckin' peach," and watching your face harden in the wake of his words.

daryl didn't mean for it to stick, but he found himself defaulting to the silly name anyway. first when he was annoyed at you. you were soft, unfit for the grime of this new world, then when he was poking fun, and eventually... something else.

in the cdc, with a hangover keeping you slumped over the table, "shoulda stayed out the bottle if ya couldn't handle it, peach."

over the long winter on the road, with barely any food or water, "keep up, peach, i ain’t gon’ carry you.”

in the prison, sharing shifts up in the watchtower (because you were sort of friends now) (because daryl felt almost rewarded when your eyes lit up at your nickname), "don't need to teach you on the bow, peach. you're just fine with a knife."

trapped in the train car in terminus, fussing over his injuries even though you could barely map him out in the dark, "peach. peach. quit it, ‘m alright."

the road to alexandria was long and brutal. 'peach' turned into your name and your name turned into silence. daryl was grieving, you were grieving, and the space between you felt like a chasm, dark and wide. finding that community was a blessing in disguise, not just for the group, but for you and daryl specifically. you came back together behind the walls, both unwilling to acclimate, but knowing you needed to try.

‘peach’ made its way back into circulation slowly and then so frequently that even the alexandrians began to catch on.

when daryl had to leave with aaron for a run, “later, peach. i’ll find ya after your shift.”

laughing over your assigned job, “the hell you know about gardenin’, peach? they shoulda put ya in the tower.”

inevitably your relationship shifted into something more intimate. it wasn’t a secret, hell, the group had seen it coming long ago.

‘peach’ stopped being a nickname and became a term of endearment. something daryl reserved for tender moments.

startling awake when daryl joined you in bed, late after a long run, “just me, peach, go back to sleep.”

when you came back from a run that turned dicey, a little worse for wear, “lemme see it, peach, i got ya.”

and in… other moments as well.

your body pressed firmly against daryl's, his lips a breath from yours, whispering, “tell me what ya need, peach. you know i’ll give it to ya.”

daryl laid between your legs, two fingers curling cruelly against your g-spot while you rode out your orgasm above him, “there ya go, peach, so fuckin’ good.”

daryl had never been one for nicknames, this fact held up even after the world ended. your own family was rarely on the receiving end of a playful moniker. but to him, ‘peach’ was easy as breathing and, to you, it sounded like “i love you” every time.

#peach

[the-dixon-effect]

Would you ever roleplay Negan or Denny?

i would definitely write for these two - i’m not really sure how to get into roleplay but maybe ig 😭

#ask #brandy writes #the walking dead #daryl dixon #negan smith #twd #twd imagine #twd drabbles

[the-dixon-effect]

Need

Character: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader | Prison Era

Summary: After somehow convincing Daryl to let you go on a hunt with him, you stop to admire a pretty flower. Little did you know, the pollen would have an… interesting effect on you.

Warnings: smut, swearing, sexual details, sex pollen??, insecurity on daryl’s part, a little fluffy, a little angsty, apparently no threat of walkers bc they get it on in the woods.

Word Count: 2,500 ish

18+

Convincing Daryl to let you tag along on a hunt was a task in itself. He was the closest thing you had to a best friend these days, so he knew how antsy you got when being behind the prison gates for too long. He felt the same way. That didn’t mean he was going to let you go out into possible danger any easier though. You practically had to drop to your knees and beg him to let you join, swearing you’d bring extra luck for him to catch a deer. Muttering something like “ain’t need no luck” under his breath, he eventually agreed to let you join. You pretended not to see his cheeks redden when you wrapped your arms around his neck in an excited hug.

That was about two hours ago. Now, you were following him through the forest as he tracked some animal. You were doing your best to keep quiet, given the fact that he had scolded you just about five minutes ago for walking too carelessly (whatever that means). You started to grow bored. Sure it was nice being away from the prison, but you figured your best friend would entertain you in at least some conversation. You should’ve known better, this was Daryl Dixon.

You were about to suggest playing a silly game of truth or truth when you saw something pink out of the corner of your eye. You paused and walked over, observing a beautiful flower that looked like it belonged to a storybook. Your internal battle of deciding whether or not to pick it was fast as you assumed a walker would just trample it anyway. So you picked it.

Daryl knew right away that you weren’t following him anymore, so he paused for a drink of water while he watched you get distracted by a flower. He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t fight the smile as he noticed you pick it and immediately bring it to your nose to inhale the scent. As you pulled it away from your face, he saw it left pink specks of pollen on your nose.

“Ya got a lil somethin’ on yer nose.”

Instead of a reply, he was met with a series of four loud sneezes.

“Jeez woman, gonna draw all the walkers in.”

You giggled, wiped your nose, and finally replied with a small, “sorry.”

“If yer done pickin’ flowers, let’s get back to trackin’ this deer,” he said as he grabbed his bag from where he placed it on the forest floor.

You gasped, “You didn’t tell me we were tracking a deer! I told you I would bring good luck.”

He rolled his eyes at you for the second time that day and muttered “stop.”

It started as an ache in between your legs. It wasn’t particularly unpleasant, but it was surprising how strong it was.

You weren’t unfamiliar with the feeling of arousal. You were a girl who knew her own body. At least before the end of the world. There wasn’t enough time, safety, or privacy to bring yourself pleasure. Not to mention the lack of people throwing themselves at you.

Still, it was unfamiliar for you to feel so much arousal on a hunt with Daryl.

Daryl.

You found your gaze wandering to the archer taking sure steps in front of you. His shoulders seemed to be broader than normal… no, he was always this large. Your eyes went lower as you found yourself thinking about what else had to be large, accidentally letting out a whimper.

Daryl didn’t stop walking, just tossed a “ya okay?” over his shoulder.

You shook your head, as if it would cleanse your brain of the impure thoughts you had for your best friend, and answered.

“Yeah, sorry, just tripped over my feet. You know me, super clumsy haha.” Stop talking!

He just grunted in response. Phew.

You wondered if he would grunt like that while he was deep inside of you…

This time you actually did trip, bumping into the firm man in front of you. He whipped around and grabbed you by your shoulders.

“Tha’ hell? What’s gotten into ya?”

Not you, sadly.

He looked at you more deeply and noticed your face was flushed pink like the flower you still held in your hand, and your chest was rising and falling with heavy breaths.

“Are ya okay? Ya bit?” He asked with a worried look as his eyes ran down your frame.

It wouldn’t make sense for you to have gotten bit, he was with you the entire time. No, it was something else.

You looked up at him with a glazed look in your eyes and got out the words “so hot.” You weren’t sure if you were talking about your body temperature or him at this point. His big hands on your shoulders felt as if they were burning holes through your skin. The ache between your legs had turned into a stabbing pain, and your lower stomach felt a different kind of hunger. Lust.

Daryl was beyond worried when he saw you drop your flower to clutch at your stomach. His eyes looked to the flower and recognition finally crossed his brain. Oh no.

He scooped you up bridal style, and you all but moaned. Now that he knew what was happening, a blush reached his face. He carried you to a nearby willow tree next to a lake and sat you down under the shade. You whined when he let go, so he made sure to at least grab your hands with his.

“Sunshine? I need ya to listen to me.”

You met his eyes and nodded, but still had a glazed over expression.

He sighed, knowing this was the best it would get. “I think tha’ flower ya smelled was one of those aphrodisiacs. A really strong one too. I remember reading about it in that unique plants of Georgia book ya found for me.”

Your eyes widened and you let out another whine. “It hurts so bad. I- I need. Ugh.”

“Ya need to just wait it out. Could be a couple of hours.”

“No Daryl I can’t. I need you to fix it. Please fix it.”

He wasn’t sure what you were asking for, but he knew he’d give you anything if you asked him with those big, round eyes.

“Honey, I’m not sure what yer askin’.

“Need you to fuck me.”

That stopped his breath where it was in his chest. His eyes widened as he looked anywhere but your desperate face. He knew you weren’t in your right mind. You didn’t actually want him, you just wanted to act on the arousal you felt. He wasn’t sure he could handle your touch if it wasn’t genuine.

He was drawn out of his thoughts as he saw you strip your shirt off out of the corner of his eye. Somehow, his face grew even more red.

“Nah, you don’t wanna do this. You don’t want me.”

“Daryl please, I only want you. I’ve only wanted you for so long. Since the farm. Not just your body, but your soul and mind and thoughts and oh my god please I just need you to fuck me. Make it go away please.” You cried.

His heart stopped at your confession. Was this true or was it just the drug from the flower talking?

He brought his hands up to your cheeks and looked into your eyes as you nuzzled into his warm palms.

“Need ya to look at me.” He waited until your eyes met his. “Need ya to tell me that you really want this, want me. And that ya wont regret it.”

You brought your hands to his on your face. “I promise. I want you. I want you so bad. Only you.”

With that, he roughly pushed his lips to yours in a heated kiss. You could’ve melted then and there. Especially when you moved your hand to wrap around the back of his hair and heard the sound he let out. A kind of grunt that you had only heard in your dreams until then.

“Imma take care of ya. Don’t worry baby.” He panted.

Clothes were off in an instant, but Daryl’s shirt stayed on. You knew about the scars and had seen them a few times, but you didn’t want to push him. Plus, you weren’t in the state to reassure him much anyway.

He currently had you on your back on the soft moss next to the willow tree, his mouth sucking your clit and fingers deep in your pussy. He said he needed to warm you up, even after you tried to convince him you were warmed up enough. You had a feeling it was more for him to prepare himself anyway.

It was heavenly, his eyes closed and arms wrapped around your thighs. His tongue never stopping at lapping up your wetness. His fingers gently but firmly hooking into you at a steady pace. It was perfect.

But it wasn’t enough.

“Daryl, please, I need more. I need you, please.” You gasped out.

He released your clit with a wet pop and pulled his fingers out of you, licking them clean of your juices. Your eyes could’ve rolled back in your head at the sight.

“Alright,” he rasped out, “quit yer whinin’ girl.”

You grinned up at him as he pumped his cock in his hands. You knew he was big.

He must’ve seen you drooling over his dick because he smirked and gently caressed your cheek before popping his thumb into your mouth for you to suck.

You weren’t sure where this newfound confidence came from, but god you loved it.

He took his thumb out and shushed you as you whined in protest.

“Ya ready for me baby?”

You could’ve nodded until your head fell off. His “warming you up” took the edge off, but the ache was back in full force, begging for you to just jump on him.

“Please Daryl. Need you so bad.”

“Alright, alright. Tell me if anythin’ hurts. I’ll try and be gentle baby.”

Your heart swooned but your lust clouded brain wanted you to yell at him to not be gentle. Instead, you settled on nodding at him.

Daryl placed his tip at your entrance and looked into your eyes as he pushed inside. Any amount of hesitance he felt dissipated as soon as he felt your wet, warm walls squeezing him.

The stretch you felt was the relief you needed. You felt your thoughts clear, as well as your clouded eyes.

Daryl noticed the change immediately and kissed your nose, then your forehead.

“Ya okay? Want me to stop?” He asked with a hint of embarrassment. Now that he solved your “problem” he was worried that you’d suddenly find him less appealing and grow disgusted with him. He tried to push the thoughts away, but his brain has always been programmed to doubt himself. He felt your arms snake up his back and hold on tight to him as your legs wrapped around him to keep him inside of you.

“Don’t you dare stop.” You breathed out, still accommodating to the stretch you felt between your legs. “I still want you. Still need you.”

Even though the effects of the pollen were sated as soon as he entered you, that didn’t stop you from being turned on by the archer. You always knew you wanted something more with him, and now you were finally getting it. So you bucked your hips up further on his length with a moan.

He closed his eyes tight to prevent himself from thrusting the rest of the way into you. He knew he was big, and now that you were thinking more clearly, he knew that he had to be more gentle. When he opened his eyes, he saw you looking at him with wide eyes and your teeth tugging on your lower lip. God, you were beautiful.

He brought your hands above your head and locked your fingers with his. Then he slowly and finally filled you up the rest of the way. You both gasped and squeezed each other’s hands.

You let out a whine when he pulled out again, but sighed as he thrusted back in.

“Harder, you won’t break me.” You pleaded with him.

“I gotcha.” His next thrust was hard enough for you to release his hands and clutch onto his back. He leaned on one of his arms above you and brought the other to press into your lower stomach. “You feel me right here, baby? So deep huh?”

“Oh my god!” You moaned out for him. “Daryl… feels so good.”

He just thrusted faster and harder in response, desperate to make you feel good like you deserve.

He felt you tighten around him and he read your body signs with ease, as if you two had done this a million times before. He brought the hand was pressing on your lower stomach down to find and circle your puffy clit, getting a reaction immediately. You gasped and scratched your nails down his covered back as you somehow got out the word, “gonna-“

“I know, let go for me baby, c’mon.” He felt himself getting closer, wishing so bad that he could stay inside your cunt and finish there, but he knew the risks.

You tugged his body into yours as you finished around him, squeezing him in more ways than one.

Daryl let you ride out your pleasure before pulling out of the sweet cunt that kept sucking him in. It only took two pumps for him to release all over your inner thighs with a raspy grunt. He sat back on his knees and watched as his cum trickled down the puffy wetness between your legs and fell into the moss below him. He wished he has a camera in a moment like this, but he decided to settle on a mental snapshot for later.

He grabbed his handkerchief from his pants on the forest floor and wiped his cum from your thighs. You smiled up at him even though he wouldn’t meet your eyes. You grabbed his hand when he finished and brought it up to your lips to kiss his knuckles.

You could’ve laughed at the blush that crossed his features. This man just said the dirtiest things to you without shame, but got so shy over a small kiss to his hand.

When Daryl finally met your eyes, a look of relief showed on his face as he saw the smile that graced your lips. He suddenly collapsed onto his back next to you and brought your face to his in the sweetest kiss ever experienced between you two.

“This wasn’t a one time thing, right?” You asked, furrowing a brow at him.

He pecked your pouted lips again. “Nah, now that I have ya, I ain’t lettin’ ya go.”

As you and Daryl enjoyed the blissful silence together, tracing fingers along each other’s frames, you both jumped when you heard sticks cracking a couple of feet away.

You both relaxed when you saw that it was the deer that brought you both out here in the first place. You started giggling uncontrollably, scaring the deer away.

Daryl scoffed. “Last time I take ya on a hunt with me, woman.”

You just continued giggling into his chest with the smile that he adored.

[the-dixon-effect]

Words: 7,737 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader, also features Negan Smith Reader pronouns: she/her Era: post-Negan Alexandria Warnings: language, mild descriptions of injury and blood Summary: Imprisoned in Alexandria still, it seems Negan has a soft spot for Y/N, one of Alexandria’s doctors. With Daryl gone moving the The Kingdom to Hilltop, everyone back home tries to weather the storm, and help comes from an unexpected place. A/N: I love Negan’s redemption arc, so I was stoked to write this fic with some of him, Post-Saviors. I hope it gives you all the right kind of feels.

Your name: submit What is this?

Negan glanced up as heard the outside door open and footsteps approach down the stairs. He was seated on his bunk with his back against the wall when you appeared.

His face slowly grew into a wide smile and he straightened up. He snapped the book in his hands shut. “Well, hey there, dollface. You get my message?”

“First, don’t call me that… You know I hate it. Second, your message? Is that what we’re calling it? I’m here because Gabriel said you’re refusing to eat anything until you talk to me.” You paced over to the bars and peered through them at him.

Negan shrugged. “Isn’t exactly like I can pick up a phone and dial you, now is it?”

You sighed and gripped onto one of the iron bars. “A hunger strike? Really?”

Keep reading

[the-dixon-effect]

Bite the Hand That Feeds

Pairing : Daryl Dixon x f!reader

Genre : smut!!! small fluff

Warnings : unprotected piv, biting, oral fixation-ish, established relationship, insinuation to a marriage proposal, mdni

Word count : 500ish, small little smut dabble

It was a rare occasion for him to let you take control. Though, the longer you'd been together, the older he got, the more willing he was to lay back and hand you the reins. Especially a time like now, when he'd come home from a two-day scavenging trip, bloody and sweaty and oh-so tired.

You'd jumped his bones the moment he walked through the door. He's your man, and you can't stand when he's not here. He was ready for you in minutes, always ready for you.

You move fervently above him, tossing your head back to let out the occasional sigh or moan. Below you, he gazes up at you, eyes glazed over as though he's in the presence of a goddess.

Watching you use him makes his abdomen clench. His hands grip your thighs harder, his mouth falling open into a groan. You look down at him, eyes trailing the path from his open lips to his chest, where your hands lay delicately. It's almost mindless, instinctual, the way you slip your fingers into his open mouth.

You whimper when he closes his mouth around them, sucking and rolling his tongue. Although tonight you're the one in control, he never fails to make you crumble. Grinding down harder and harder, you collapse on top of him, fingers still in his mouth. You trail your free hand up to grip his shoulder, and he moves one of his to squeeze between your bodies, rubbing circles over your clit. As the knot in your stomach draws tauter, your nails dig into the skin of his bicep, making him groan, the sound muffled by your fingers.

You're so close, sweat slicking over your abdomen, tingles shooting down to your toes. And when you finally burst, all you see is white. All you hear is static, and your body feels otherworldly. You're starting to come down when Daryl grabs your hips, locking you over him, thrusting his own hips into you as deep as he can reach. As he finishes, warmth flooding you, he tosses his head back, eyes squeezing shut. He let's out a drawn groan, and then, to your surprise, bites your fingers.

It's not hard enough to break skin, but when you pull them away, they're red and irritated, teeth marks indented along them. He just tosses an arm over his eyes, panting.

When he finally recovers, moving his arm off to look at you, he just gives a satisfied grin.

Unsure of if he even knows what he did, you smile back, not really minding the marks he left behind. You flop down beside him, catching your breath.

"Y'know..." You begin, trailing featherlight touches over his chest. "Instead of leaving your teeth marks on my fingers, you could just get me a ring." You tease.

He just scoffs, ears turning red. "Stop." He groans out. You just hum, closing your eyes and snuggling into his chest.

When you're no longer looking at him, he looks to his nightstand. Inside, lay a small velvet pouch.

[the-dixon-effect]

i just love this so much. the way you write daryl is so accurate - i love this era <3

Eloquence

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: implied injury, implied past emotional abuse

Summary: A short one shot/drabble.

Era: Season 2, the Farm

Daryl has never had much of a thing for words. His whole life he'd toed the line; two steps away from saying the wrong ones and paying the price. Words shine a light upon thoughts (which he preferred to keep to himself), and feelings (which almost always got out of hand.) They had perhaps been the worst weapons of his past, like hammers demolishing and striking down relentlessly instead of building up. Intentional or not.

After Merle left, blessedly taking his limited vocabulary with him, a rather peaceful silence emerged. It wasn't long before the absence grew to become it's own annoyance though, and that's when he found himself drawn to new words - yours. He'd never found words beautiful until he really heard you speak. As skillful and precise as a master practicing their craft, each word a genuine and perfect combination of head and heart. For the first time Daryl was intrigued enough to truly listen.

That didn't change how he was wired though. His frustration only grew each time he proceeded to act on his own impulsiveness and snap at someone, or when he reacted in the way he despised most. It felt as though his admiration for you in that regard was pushing all of his own shortcomings to the surface.

Regardless of his own insecurities, you must've at least found him to be a tolerable conversationalist. With increasing frequency he'd suddenly find himself the object of your attention, inquiring about his opinion on whatever the group had been discussing, or even just asking about him on a more personal level.

Most often though, you'd ask him to explain some aspect of hunting, tracking, or other obscure wilderness knowledge. Every time he immediately felt like an idiot, your patience and attentiveness making him nervous enough to stumble over some words and forget others. 

"See how tha' one got cut off all sharp an' attan angle?" He asked, gesturing with the toe of his boot at a stem eaten off a few inches from the ground. "An', there ain't any leaves left."

You crouched down to get a better look at what was left of the little twig. "Rabbit?" You guessed, squinting up at Daryl's face.

A quick nod. "Yup." He replied.

"Yes!" You stood, pumping your fist in mock victory with a laugh. "You're a good teacher, Daryl." You smiled at him and his heart did a tiny summersault.

Truthfully you were quite intuitive. He'd barely had to teach you much of anything, and definitely nothing worthy of being praised for. "Naw." He grunted, turning to continue on your trek trough the woods. "Best get a move on."

"Hey." You huffed, jogging a bit to catch up with his quick strides. "I really do appreciate you taking the time." You grabbed his arm, pulling him to a stop. You didn't start speaking again until he met your eyes. "You do make a good teacher. Unless you think I'm a liar." Your eyes were as unwavering as your grip on his arm and it made him feel like some unfortunate raccoon caught in headlights.

Your sudden firmness caught him off guard. Where your fingers wrapped around his bicep his skin practically burned, the heavy Georgian heat weighing down on him. He swallowed and then managed to scrape together a, "Course I don'."

Immediately the corner of your mouth quirked up. With a hum of satisfaction you released him, continuing your search for Sophia.

---

The next evening Daryl was more than relieved to hear your voice. Earlier that day the two of you had split up on your search in order to cover more ground, and after barely making it back in one piece himself he couldn't help but worry until your return. 

Breathless, you called out his name, peeking into the bedroom that had become a sort of infirmary, your face twisted up with... worry? "Oh, thank God." You gasped. 

He was pleased to see that you looked no worse for wear, but still he didn't like you being so upset for no reason. It agitated something within him to be anyone's burden. "What're y'all worked up about, woman?" He asked.

You hurried to his side, trying to slow your breathing. "Carol said you'd been shot in the head. I just- I..." You panted, eyes darting around, inspecting all of him enough to make him feel self conscious.

"Ya what?" It came out more gruffly than he'd intended.

You shook your head. He couldn't recall ever really seeing you at a loss for words. "I was afraid that you..." Your hand started to stretch towards him before you pulled away. "You're okay?" You asked, eyes wide.

He almost wished you hadn't pulled away so soon. Just to see if your touch still burned like it had before. "Yeah." He said quietly.

You hovered over him, apparently in no hurry to leave. He realized he didn't actually want you to leave, in fact, he desperately wanted you to stay, to have your company instead of being confined to this perfectly quiet room alone. Selfishness began to bloom inside him and he longed to hear you, to have your attention all to himself. He was certain your voice would soothe and heal more powerfully than any medicine or even time itself. Was it wrong to want that from you? 

"Could ya read ta me?" He asked before he'd even decided to let the words out.

The red on your cheeks from the summer sun began to darken. "What?" You asked, slightly taken aback. Your eyebrows were drawn together as they always were when you were thinking. 

He hadn't meant to say that aloud; sounding like some sort of small, scared kid asking for a bedtime story. Hell, he'd never had any of those even when he was a kid. "Sorry, nevermind." He muttered, pulling the covers up and turning his back to you.

"No, no. I can." You blurted, maybe a little too loudly. "That sounds nice. Haven't had the time to read, what with the end of the world and all." You laughed dryly. Had he made you uncomfortable? You sounded nervous the way you were rambling - he could hear your boots shifting on the hardwood floor. 

The bed creaked as he rolled back over, but there you were, a small smile unhindered by the grime and dirt sprinkled across the rest of your skin. "Any uh... any requests?" You asked.

"Whatever ya like." He replied, then added, "Nothin' trashy."

And as you sat on the bed beside him, the soft candlelight flickering gently across your features in the darkness, his heart slowed and an unexpected warmth filled him. It was as if every kindness he'd ever experienced was multiplied, each one crammed inside of him until he was practically bursting and then the feeling flooded over him bringing the warmth to every part that he thought was doomed to stay cold forever. 

He listened to the melody of your words, watched the way your eyes were losing the struggle to stay open, felt the heat from your side pressed ever so slightly against his. He felt like a child again, the overwhelming desire to be protected that had never been fulfilled when he was young. In this moment he felt more love than he had his whole life. 

As sleep finally claimed you he quietly set the book aside, pulling you down into the comfort of the bed. He hesitated to blow out the candle, secretly relishing the peaceful look on your face. As the red glow of the wick faded away, he promised himself that someday he would have the words to tell you everything.

#baby daryl #twd #fic rec

[the-dixon-effect]

my favourite film ever

the company of strangers (1990)

[the-dixon-effect]

❜𝐓𝐢𝐥 𝐈 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐘𝐨𝐮❜𝐫𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞

Summary ➳ Daryl never liked it when the neighborhood cop Shane came around. You, oblivious to Shane’s attempts to flirt with you and don’t see the fuming Daryl.

(A/n) ➳ Inspired by “You” by Ari Abdul. Those who are waiting for the first chapter of JUDAS, it’s almost done. I’m just finishing the final touches before it’s uploaded. This is also very rushed, I’m sorry.

Word Count ➳ 900

Content Warnings ➳ Female reader, MODERN AU/NO OUTBREAK, DUB-CON, SHANE, jealous Daryl, sexual content, p-in-v, protected sex, phone sex, hair pulling, pet names (baby, darlin’), overstimulation, little dacryphilia…

“Goddammit Daryl!” You clutched the sheets under you as Daryl pulled your head back by your hair. “S-Slow down!” You cried out.

Daryl seemed to ignore your plea, his eyes remained on your ass and how it jiggled by each hard thrust. He continuously slammed into your g-spot, doing so without mercy.

You had no idea what’s gotten into him, he was perfectly fine this morning…

But Daryl knew what was wrong, he was angry, maybe at you but most of his anger was focused on that shitty cop.

Shane Walsh.

Daryl never believed Shane’s bullshit excuses whenever he came around your neighborhood. It was like he knew when Daryl was around, he knew of his record and his brother’s which is why he always stood back and remained silent.

Daryl was out on your driveway working on your beat-up car. He used his arm to wipe away the layer of sweat on his forehead. You had brought out a glass of ice-cold water for him, you went back inside to retrieve a rag as he asked.

“Dixon!”

Daryl froze at that voice, he cursed Shane under his breath. He turned his head slightly, enough to get a view of Shane who exited his car and walked up to him.

“(Y/n) home?” He asked, his hands on his belt as a shit-eating grin was plastered on his face.

“Busy.” He grunted in response, going back to your car.

“Mind if check?” He took a couple of steps towards your door before Daryl stood in his way.

“I’ll get ‘er.” He didn’t bother taking a second glance at him because he knew Shane had won… Yet fucking again.

You had come down the stairs, a couple of rags in hand. “I didn’t think one would be enough-“

“Cop ‘ere.” He told you, taking the rags. “Lookin’ for ya.”

“Shane? Again?” You lifted an eyebrow and peered through your window to see Shane standing there, giving you a wave. “What’s he here for?”

“The hell should I know.”

You made your way outside, seeing Shane leaning up against his patrol car. “Hey, Shane, what brings you here?”

“Just checkin’ in, makin’ sure you’re alright. Y’know, keepin’ the neighborhood safe.” Shane’s eyes lingered down your neck, he fixed his posture, getting himself a better look at your cleavage.

“Well, everythin’ is fine here. Nothin’ to report.” You let out an awkward chuckle, fixing your shirt.

Back in the house, Daryl stayed by the window, jaw clenched as his hands formed into fists.

Shane leaned in, way too close for comfort. “You free tonight?”

“I- What?” It took you a couple of seconds before his words sunk in. “No, no. I’ll be here… with my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” Shane mocked. “Hard to believe a redneck like Daryl Dixon could be your boyfriend.”

“You don’t know shit, Shane. Find some other woman to ask out.” You sighed, growing frustrated.

Shane pulled out his pen and notepad, writing something. “It’s only a matter of time before he disappoints you. Call me when he’s gone or you want somethin’ better.” Ripping the paper, took your hand, and pushed into it.

Shane Walsh had crossed a line…

Daryl remembered snatching the number out of your hands and nearly ran out of the house just to punch him. You dragged him back to the room just to get him to call him.

“D-Daryl!” You mewled, shutting your eyes as you felt your hot tears slip.

“That’s it, baby, say my name.” He growled. He didn’t stop, even when you tightened around his cock, another orgasm coming down on you.

He released his hold on your hair, letting your head fall onto the pillow. He picked up his phone and began to dial the number. He left it by your head and on speaker.

“C’mon baby, let ‘im hear you.” He turned you over onto your back and shoved a pillow under your hips, letting him go deeper inside of you.

It felt like you were screaming, you couldn’t focus anymore. Not on Daryl, not on the sound of the headboard slamming into the wall… It’s a surprise that nobody had called to complain.

“Keep ya eyes on me darlin’.” He said, his hands coming to your wrists to keep them from covering your face when you tried to. “Look at me.” He demanded.

You opened your eyes to meet his blue ones, he licked his lips as his eyes were clouded.

Your nails dug into your hands. “Daryl! Daryl! Daryl!” You chanted his name over and over again, your legs coming around his hips to pull him closer.

That’s when you felt the pit again. “Daryl-!”

“C’mon, cum ‘round my cock. Let ‘im know who’s makin’ you feel like this, scream like this.” Daryl let out one final grunt as he came.

Your eyes shut instinctively as your back arched from the bed. Everything became white noise as you were sure you screamed louder than you could, waves and ripples.

Daryl slummed over your body, too tired to push him off or say anything.

He picked up the phone and smirked when he saw the call’s duration, he could hear panting on the other side. He hung up the phone and tossed it across the room, hearing it hit something.

“Stay with me darlin’.” Daryl sneered at your fucked out face. “I ain’t gonna be done with ya for a long time.”

© Intoxicated-Chan 2024, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission.

[the-dixon-effect]

THIS

We need mean!reader, angry!reader, misunderstood!reader, creepy!reader, gross!reader, toxic!reader, nonforgiving!reader, selfish!reader, narcissistic!reader, dark!reader, FEDUP!reader. That bitch is way too nice, passive, and sensible. ✋🏾😂

[the-dixon-effect]

Whumpuary Day 21-22

Prompt: Blood loss (alt)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Blood; injury; stitches

“We need to keep moving.” You panted, stumbling to one knee. You were dizzy, nauseous. Daryl’s quick reflexes and hand on your bicep kept you from toppling forward. The way he hauled you up seemed effortless. 

“Yeah, we do, but not ‘til we take care’a that.” The archer threw a hand out in gesture toward your blood soaked jeans. “Sit down ‘fore ya fall down. Again.” You pouted at him but lowered to a conveniently placed stump and presented your injured leg. When Daryl’s knife sliced through the fabric to grant him access to the tear in your flesh, you gasped indignantly. “These were my favorite pair!”

“We’ll hold a service for ‘em when we get back.” His expression remained stoic as he worked, digging through the first aid kit for what he needed. Glancing up at your unamused face, he sighed. “Carol’ll patch ‘em. Dry your eyes.”

The stitches hurt like a bitch, but watching him care for you with such gentle touches, his tongue peeking out at times in concentration, the pain and the loss of your favorite jeans were quickly forgotten. 

@thegeorgiahuntsman @livingdeadblondequeen @feral4daryl @deansapplepie @walker-bait-1973 @lazyneonrabbitt @bizquake @littlelovingideas @ririi-3 @ankhmutes @blackvelveteen1339 @sokkasimp101 @lehhos @loganlostitall @callmeyn @she-who-writes-for-multi-fandoms @gutsby @isakyakiisak @in-this-minute @eljaynosine_triphosphate @abbyreedus @wifeof-barnes @bigbaldheadname @bananafire11 @graciepies @georgiadixon @esgoraths @hutchersonsgurl @she-could-never @Kenzimae67 @nessa-mayfield @ilovedilfs4eversthings @KatelynAngel @richardsamboramylove55 @m0ss-g0blin @annhells @abi67sblog @nessieart @imgeorgeclooney @brinteylovesaliens @eduardast4rgirl @ass-butt-themusical @daryldixmedown @willowaftxn83-87 @ashtonbabe @atyourmomshouse01 @dixonzzgirl @unhingedbiatch @bultamer @lumimon47 @easystreet07

[the-dixon-effect]

Sharp Stick (2022)

[the-dixon-effect]

[the-dixon-effect]

centre of the universe ✧.*

a/n: 4 months later i'm back, so sorry guys. i got a little caught up. been missing daryl most of all too. i'm feeling a little rusty and tired but here's a cute little thing ig!

requested by: @pandarooooo-blog find the request here :)

summary: having married Negan in order to rescue Daryl from the Sanctuary, you found yourself, 9 months later, raising a kid of your own. the baby being Negan's, you hadn't been particularly enthusiastic to embrace the situation.

words: 1.2k

era: season 8-9, post-saviours

Sitting around Rick and Michonne's dining table embraced by the warm glow of the sky late into summer - what felt like a fever dream at it's best. The past year had left you bruised, emotionally and physically, Hell, you hadn't caught break since the world went to shit. But today, the air was pregnant with sweetness and laughter as you bathed in the company of your family. You stood up from the table once the feast was presumed finished. Your daughter giggled softly, cradled in your arms - her innocence a trait that you only mirrored while everybody fought for her attention.

Rosita imitated her best baby-voice, babbling some nonsensical rhetoric about her being "the cutest" and the "sweetest", while Rick reminisced about the days back on the road with Judith years ago. Noticing this, you thanked him sincerely, "You built this Rick, for Judith, for her," you gestured down to the precious being in your arms. "For all of us." The atmosphere was silent despite the extent of nods and smiles in agreement - the only sound was the sweet laughter of your darling girl.

Daryl, who had been standing by your side, broke the silence "She looks jus' like her mama," he spoke proudly, as though there were a part of him somewhere that wished he was the father; a notion that only remained at the forefront of Daryl's mind when he saw your sweet figure.

"Right?" you agreed, pursuing Daryl's gaze aside from the rest of group. Daryl, as loyal as ever, had stuck by your side during the pregnancy and made sure you were never hungry, uncomfortable, God forbid you were ever unsafe inside the walls. For that you were grateful. He remained your 'best friend', though, and a part of you needed him to know that you wanted him in other ways.

Tears came streaming down your face faster than you could register the situation. Two weeks ago, you kneeled before Negan and the Saviours in the depths of the night. A week later, you were married to Negan, letting him use you to his will only to set Daryl free from the cage they had him locked in. And sure, if that wasn't traumatic enough, this morning you discovered you were pregnant. With Negan's kid.

You were scared, hurt, resentful, but most of all in shock. The overwhelming emotions contained you thoroughly inside your house, and you had not been seen by anyone all day. When a knock arose at your bedroom door, you sprang to your feet and swiftly wiped away the tears that painted your face an unforgiving shade of pink.

"Who is it?" you sobbed, trying to hide your quavering, pitiful tone beneath the question.

"'S jus' me," It was Daryl. You could tell from the husky, gravelly voice behind the door. He sounded concerned. Composing yourself, you took one last look around the messy room before slowly clutching the cold doorknob and twisting it open. His figure towered over you, not threatening - the kind you had been used to - but barricading you from any dangers that stood between him and the rest of the world.

Daryl stood before you, not knowing what to say or do, searching for some trace of an answer in the absent, glassy expanse of your eyes. Absent, there were indeed, for each moment your body stood inside the walls of Alexandria, your mind was back there, in that 'Sanctuary'.

Another wave of tears came down your face before your clouded mind could form a coherent expression.

"Hey, hey, I got ya'," he soothed, drawing your frame into a tight hug, sheltered from anyone's presence, even in your own mind Negan's shadow seemed to dissipate into the encompassing swell of his chest. At least Daryl's stature provided you some respite; it was healing, momentarily. That was until he pulled way, wishing to understand, perhaps, why you were so upset. "Come on, let's siddown'-"

"I'm pregnant, Daryl, I don't know- I don't know what to.." you sobbed, returning to the embrace in an attempt to suppress the rhythmic pound that lay waste to your mind. Daryl, in his own state of shock, could do nothing but hold you. In truth, you did not wish for him to do anything else. Slowly, he walked you to your bedside, his touch not once faltering. With strong arms now safely caging you into his figure, you lay your head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Daryl..." you sighed, closing your eyes in search for some calm.

"Hey, no. You don't ever gotta say sorry, not to me," he gravelled, in that sweet, low voice of his. As he spoke into the crown of your head, you felt his words reverberate somewhere deep inside, moreso than you heard them. He was so tender with you.

"I'm scared," you began. You were embarassed to appear in this manner in front of Daryl. You didn't want to speak. Though you thought you owed him some expression of how you were feeling. "I hate him so much, y'know. I know you know. I hate him, for what he did to you. And me. I just thought," you weeped uncontrollably into Daryl's shoulder, at the notion that Negan - that evil man - would never escape your world. Daryl tried to console you, lifting your head up inches away from his own, though, he too, was flooded with memories and resentment indistinguishable from your own.

"What if my baby turns out like him?" you asked, in rhetoric. Lord knows, what kind of answer you expected.

"Shh.. Dun' think like that," he drawled, laying a gentle kiss on your forehead. The two of you had never been this close before.

"Yer' kid is gonna be strong, and kind, and beautiful.." he trailed off, cursing him damn mouth for running away from his brain. "Just like their momma."

"Daryl?" you spoke, softly, painting a number of maternal images at the forefront of his mind.

"Yeah?" he replied. Not once did he avert his gaze from your tear-stricken face.

"Will you stay.. with me? I'm scared... I don't wanna do this alone,"

"Of course, darlin'." From that moment on, Daryl never left your side.

The warm Virginian sun dipped below the walls of your home in the distance, evening winds stirred, gently, hardly noticeable. You cradled your beautiful baby girl in your arms, your mind empty of all negative thoughts. Just for a little while, everything was perfect. It seemed almost strange, that you were now happier than ever in this post-apocalyptic world.

Daryl strolled up to the gazebo where you perched with your daughter. The setting sun lit up your face like you were the centre of the universe. The centre of his universe, perhaps. It was hypnotic, seeing you in this way, so loving and maternal, more beautiful than ever.

"Hey," you smiled, watching the archer approach cautiously. He was always like this - acting as though his mere presence was a disturbance. You thought quite the opposite. "You can sit down Daryl, you won't wake her," you said sweetly. He simply stood there, an arm leaning on the gazebo fence, smiling down at you. So you stared right back up at him, wondering if he would take you up on your offer.

"I love ya', Y/N,"

"I know. C'mere,"

#brandy writes #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fluff #daryl x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl x you #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x female reader #twd daryl #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl dixon fic #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl dixon twd #daryl drabbles #daryl fanfiction #daryl imagines #daryl fucking dixon #daryl the walking dead #daryl twd #daryl x y/n #the walking dead daryl #twd x reader

[the-dixon-effect]

media literacy seems to leave the building the second a sexy man walks in

[the-dixon-effect]

Using You

Summary -> you love him, you really do - he’s your best friend, however you’re scared if you choose to be with him you’ll lose him; you’d already lost too much. However, Daryl thinks that you’re using him to distract yourself with sex. It’s up to you to prove him wrong (2.9k)

Warnings -> 18+ minors dni, smut, unprotected sex, unrequited love (or so Daryl thinks), oral sex (male receiving), shower sex, angst, fluff, mentions of death, swearing, smoking

The bed was cold whilst your body continued to be heated by another, shoved up against the wall, with a large masculine hand covering any sounds that threatened to escape from your lips.

You were lost, the Governor had attacked the prison, leaving all of your friends and family to run for their lives and evade the invading walkers that had entered through the broken fences.

And so here you were, in the home of a stranger that was probably dead, being fucked by the archer, clawing at his broad shoulders to escape the loss of your reality that haunted you each time that you closed your eyes. If anyone could understand the horror that tormented you each time you closed your eyes, it was him.

There was no need for words, there were other distractions that were far more pleasant. And you had found it with his dick inside of you, stretching your walls to the point where you felt lightheaded.

Daryl was your best friend, this was seen as wrong on so many accounts, but since the first time you couldn’t find the strength to not repeat your actions. The initial act had made you addicted to feel your bodies intertwine, however it was all physical. And that was exactly what you craved, any emotions didn’t matter, the chances were that you were going to die out here anyways, so it was in your best interest to enjoy the time that you had while you were alive.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum Dar.” You mumbled against his palm, puffs of air from your nose creating friction against his hand, as your eyes began to roll back upon their own accord.

The man that was bringing you so close your release grunted in reply, aware that he would shortly follow with his own euphoric bliss, he mashed his hips closer to your own, wanting nothing more than to be as deep within you as possible.

He continued to thrust, until you reached your peak which gave him the go ahead to race towards his own, quickly pulling out of you before he could fill you up, to his own dismay. And as soon as you were both finished you crawled out from his grasp, standing on your own two legs and shuffling through your clothes, tugging them on to conceal everything that you had already exposed to him.

“Where ya goin’ now?” Daryl shook his head, walking towards you to wrap his burly arms around your waist. You closed your eyes and tugged his grip away from you, reaching into your pocket for the pack of cigarettes that you had found downstairs.

“Outside. You coming Dixon?” You didn’t wait for a response, and he was complied once dressed to follow after you, sitting on the steps of the forest surrounded house.

There was no sign of any walkers, only sparse bodies that you had taken down when finding the hideaway, it made the world almost feel normal, but you couldn’t fool yourself. It would never be the same again, it was a danger just to breathe let alone travel anywhere, you’d learnt that from witnessing how many of your friends had died through the last couple of years.

Daryl looked at your form, taking in every speckle marked on your skin, each scar that peaked out through the articles that you donned upon your body. You were the reason he had kept living, striving for something better, and he needed you to know that… even if it killed him.

“Y/n.” You hummed in reply, not daring to look at him, watching the silent trees in front of you rather than adorning him with attention. “Y/n, I- fuck, I love ya dammit!” That seemed to have gained your focus and you stared at him with wide eyes, Daryl stood, pacing on the shabby porch, waving his hand in your direction, and running the other at the back of his head.

“Never mind. Was a stupid thing ta say, jus’ forget it.” He went to walk inside but you rushed up, grabbing him by the arm and spinning him around to face you - his greatest fear. If anyone else would have handled him in such a way, they would have been scared for their life, but you knew him, all the good and bad, and the traumas he had survived through.

“I won’t forget it.” You pried, serving him a sad smile. “But you don’t love me like that, I’m your best friend. You’re just saying that because of the things we’ve been doing, I don’t want you to confuse yourself. You’re allowed to care about someone without it having to be romantic.”

“I ain’t confused.” Daryl stared at the ground, kicking his boots against the rotting wood beneath him. “I love ya, always have. Was just too scared to say it, afraid that you wouldn’t love me back, clearly I was righ’.”

“Daryl don’t.” You warned him, you could feel your heart breaking from the broken, hopeless expression that he weaned in your direction. “It’s- I do love you. I do! But there’s no point in starting something that we won’t get to finish, I’m not going to live forever, not in this world. And the last thing I want is for you to blame yourself if you lose me!”

“You ain’t going nowhere.” Daryl stated, stepping towards you once more, nervously reaching his hand up to embrace your jaw. “I ain’t gonna let anything happen to you. Yer stuck with me.” He would

“We should go back inside.” You flicked the cigarette out and stepped on its stub, prepared to walk past him to enter the doorway, however he stopped you. He leant down, pecking your lips quickly so he wouldn’t be hurt if you didn’t reciprocate it. “It’s getting dark.”

You spoke softly, grabbing his hand and pulling him inside with you. If you were to leave Daryl to his own devices he would no doubt disappear into the woods to clear his loud head, and that was the last thing that you wanted.

Everyone else was already lost, out of sight and possibly deceased. You wouldn’t allow Daryl to leave you, you needed him by your side. If it weren’t for him, you probably wouldn’t have made it out of the prison that you had called home.

“I ain’t scared of the dark.” He muttered gruffly to himself as he walked over to the kitchen area, rifling through the cupboards to see if he’d missed anything within his initial inspection. “Don’t need ya keeping me locked up like some pet.”

“Daryl, that’s not what I meant.” You rolled your eyes, wishing that he could understand your rejection of a relationship. You’d had your heart broken far too many times, despite trusting Daryl, to risk something so important in the new world. “I’m turning in, you can either come and join me, or sleep on the couch. Just stay inside please.”

If he wanted to go hunting in the morning you’d happily go with him. The last thing you wanted was for him to be ran off by some walkers or men with bad intentions like the Governor. You didn’t want to be alone, you couldn’t be alone.

If you were left by yourself, you’d see no point in staying inside. It would mean that you had lost everyone, and you couldn’t allow that to happen.

“Fine. Guess I’ll keep yer bed warm since that’s all you wan’ from me.” You wanted to turn on your heel, to fight back with your own words, but that would only spark his agitated fuse to a whole new extent. To be at each others throats could be the difference between life and death in some worldly situations, and you’d rather live with him hating you than him risking to take a bullet or a bite for you.

Tears threatened to fall from your eyes but you harshly blinked them away; it was always your route of dealing with emotions, to shelter them away. But you were struggling with knowing that Rick may have been beaten to death by that dreadful, power hungry dictator, Carol was god knows where when the prison fell, Judith could…

No. Thinking like that wasn’t helping matters. You couldn’t think of the horrid things that could have taken place after you and Daryl ran.

But guilt was bubbling within you as you thought of how Daryl had opened up to you, and you had outright and in the moment pushed his affection away. You wanted nothing more than him to shamelessly be allowed to love you, but once more, the prison had proved that if anyone chose to care about you they died.

It was exactly the same in the old world. You came into this new one after the outbreak with nobody, and you had found a family of people that would have never interacted in the past. Yet you’d lost your family again. It was heartbreaking, and you’d been foolish enough to practically stab Daryl in the chest.

But he had to understand, somehow it really wasn’t him. It was you. You were a torch that brought a plague of mourning to those that surrounded you, and it wouldn’t be fair for him to pursue the grim reaper herself. Even if he wanted to, he would only end up in more pain.

It would be your time eventually to leave this earth, and it wouldn’t be fair for anyone to miss you. Instead they should in theory be relieved that you were gone, it would mean that their chances of not dying had thickened.

Silently you crawled onto the bed frame, Daryl watched you. You wanted nothing more than to cut into yourself and sob, however you had no intention of doing it when he was present, you had upset him, acting as the victim would only infuriate him. For all the time that you’d known him, if he was resenting someone or something in his mind, he was quick to snap if they pissed him off.

Your head fell onto the pillow as you faced the wall on the left side of the bed, it was large enough for the both of you, and so you felt the mattress dip behind you, from where Daryl had joined you.

It was stupid of you to have pushed him away, you yearned for his arms to encase your waist to comfort both of you, but after your outburst of insecurities, you didn’t deserve it. Not in your eyes, and definitely not in Daryl’s.

To fall asleep easier, you closed your eyes and imagined that you were in the cell block you had taken for your own in the prison, in your bunk without any company. In the morning, you would see all your friends and the people that you had saved from Woodbury eating their rations of breakfast that Daryl had hunted and Rick had farmed. You wished you could remain asleep forever so that you wouldn’t return to the scarce reality where you were picking up your own broken fragments of your shattered mind, and that you could mentally remain in the time where everything was easier and you felt happier.

You had fallen into a deep sleep until the early morning, you groggily sat up, noticing that Daryl was no longer by your side, facing away from you.

He was gone, and it made you panic, until you came to your senses and noticed his crossbow in the corner of the room, and the hush sound of the shower in the room next door. It was a surprise that this place still had access to water and that when the outbreak happened it hadn’t been shut off, it must have had its own power source to conduct such a blissful thing.

And so once your eyes were completely open and you had rubbed the exhaustion and spilt tears from your sleep out of them, you stood, tip toeing towards the bathroom, and noticing that the door wasn’t completely closed, it was ajar just a little, and you could see Daryl’s build stood there under the falling water, the scars on his back enticing you closer.

You shouldn’t have been doing this, you had pushed him away for a reason, but your heart ached to be close to him. You did want him, all of him, in every way there was, but if you started falling down you were certain that you would never stop. It was cease to be something of light of heart, and you would have to mourn someone else that you loved.

He must have heard you, he was swift when it came to tracking, so it came as no surprise. “Wha’ d’ya want?” He asked, eyeing you suspiciously, thinking you only wanted to have another escapade as just friends. You shook your head, eyes threatening to spill over as you realised this was the moment to take the risk. The risk that had your breath getting caught in your throat, and the risk that threatened the happily ever after you dreamed of.

You’d rather be loved by Daryl than have regrets in regards to your friendship. All along you had been fooling yourself, to think that the two of you could ever be less than lovers.

“I meant it when I said I loved you. I’m scared- I want to be with you, I just don’t want to lose you.” He stared at you, watching as you chewed your lip and tugged nervously at the bottom of your shirt. “But we have nothing else to live for than each other. I can’t ignore how I feel, I’ve been doing it for too long.”

The rest that you had gotten had really cleared your head, and as much as you were scared of the future, the priority was to live just another day. “I mean’ what I said, yer stuck wit’ me.” Daryl stated, turning to face you completely through the foggy glass, and your eyes examined the seriousness on his face. “Get in ‘ere, I need ya.”

There was no argument from you, it took you less than a minute to strip yourself of your clothing, aware that this time wouldn’t be a distraction. It would mean more, or everything since the pair of you were lacking any emotional barricades between you now.

You stepped into the shower, walking until your head leant against Daryl’s chest, and his arms encased you, as you mumbled against his skin. “I’m sorry I tried to push you away.”

“I’m sorry I was a jerk.” He replied, holding your face so that he could breathe against your lips. “Didn’ mean anything I said, ‘cept that I love ya. Always have, was jus’ too scared to say it before, figured we had nothin’ more to lose.” He gripped your waist, his knuckles turning white under the cool spray of the shower head as he pulled you flush against him so that you could feel the affect that you had upon his body.

“We don’t.” You agreed, grabbing gently at his shoulders as you met his gaze and the two of you simultaneously leant toward one another. Your lips met, slowly, exploring this newfound feeling of requited love, giving all you had away. Your fears were gone, they didn’t matter anymore, they were locked away in the back of your mind as Daryl effortlessly lifted you up and into his arms, resting you between him and the tiled wall.

“Wish we never had to leave ‘ere, wish we could stay here like this forever,” he spoke against the flesh of your neck as he released kisses to everywhere he could reach. His hand that wasn’t supporting your weight grabbed his cock, tracing the outside of your cunt, causing your breath to hitch, a gasp escaping you as he pushed into you.

He huffed against your warm skin, feeling how your pussy fluttered around his length, as your hands wove through his hair. Once you were fully adjusted, he began to rock into you, pulling in and out, relishing in the glory of your bodies colliding.

Your lips found purchase on his again, silencing the loud moans that threaten to spill over and alert any nearby walkers of your destination. “Fuck. You feel so good Dar.” You whimpered, your eyes closing to avert the falling water from joining the pleasure emitting tears that were spilling, as you felt the notion of love beginning to creep upon you.

Daryl reached down, rubbing at your clit, which causes you to fall over the edge. The edge of endless love, that you had been too frightened to witness. You came around his cock, drenching him with his affection as he pulled out and you instantly dropped to your knees, too weak to stand up.

He leant down to help you, however your mind had different ideas, as you leant forward and shoved his cock in your mouth, gifting the man above you with surprise. His hand rubbed at your scalp adoringly as he heaving inhaled and exhaled, lightly thrusting into your mouth.

You happily choked on his cock as you stared up at him with eager eyes, wanting nothing more than to feel his cum slide down your throat. And the release didn’t stretch out much longer, he emptied his first load since realising that you loved him, and you drank it down without any resentment.

This was all he had wanted, for a long time, to feel as though he mattered more than a tracker and a hunter. He wanted to be loved by the woman of his dreams, and after a dragging of unrequited time, he had finally, for the first time, gotten what he wanted.

You.

#my favourite type of fics